Games of Zeus 02- Silent Echoes (13 page)

“Why are you here, Taylor?”

“Because I need to take care of my house. I needed to see what was going on. This is mine, Ian. Mine. Nobody has a right—you think they can come in here and destroy—”

He shook his head. “But, right now isn’t the time for that.” His hold relaxed.

She yanked free and trudged off toward the caution tape corral. The pile that had once been her shed laid out in pieces like a puzzle ready to be put together. The area where she’d found the bones held nothing but dirt and a large hole.

Even with the footsteps behind her, she stared ahead, wishing she could see beyond what the moon illuminated for her. “This is my land, Ian. My home. And under the misguided belief that I killed someone, they jumped to conclusions. Dammit! Everyone around me jumps to conclusions. Here. In Alabama.” She stood with hands on her hips. “Why do people do this to me? What is it about me that people want to mess with? What did I do?” Her breath caught, but she refused to let tears form, to succumb to her own plight.

Ian stepped closer, his scent filling her with comfort. “Bad timing, maybe?”

“Well, then. That answers that.” Her hands flew into the air and dropped against her thighs.

A hoot called through the silent air. Across the road, lights blinked off, signaling the end of her neighbor’s day. Around them both, the earth moved into the night’s sleep.

Taylor knelt in the dirt. “I had peace, Ian.” She cupped the clay mixture and let it slip through her fingers. “It’s mine. It’s supposed to be mine.”

The hold on both her upper arms caused her body to freeze.

“Please let go.” A torturous battle of wills began—her body’s versus that of her mind. “I’m sorry. Can you take me back to Tripp and Lexi’s?”

“Sure, but are you okay—I mean physically? Do we need to go to the ER again? You tensed under that touch. I felt it in my entire hand.”

Taylor tilted her head low. “I have an issue with my arms being brought behind my back or having anything hold me that way.”

“But I didn’t—”

“I know.” Nerves that had momentarily frozen tickled and teased back into existence. “It’s just a thing. I have … a few quirks.”

“We all have those.”

“So, you see my face trying to drown you, too?” She dropped her head into her hands. “I’m sorry. That was wrong.”

Ian stood in front of her and took her cheeks between his palms. “Do you, for a minute, believe I had anything to do with that?”

On a low whisper, she said, “No. I never did. It was just … so real.”

A scream froze them for a moment. They spun and separated.

“What the hell was that?” Ian turned toward Taylor and she to him.

The cry came again—a blood curdling sound muffled as if by a pillow.

She ran toward the empty hole but twisted back toward him before he could take a step. “You heard that, didn’t you?”

13

For a moment, Ian didn’t answer. “I heard something, but by the way you trembled, I’m not sure we heard the same thing.” Given the night’s events, the fact she’d drowned, come back to life and checked herself out of the hospital, Ian wouldn’t discount any rational or irrational explanation. For anything.

Taylor stopped. Each tiny shift toward him came with a low growl. “Why do men do that?”

“Do what?”

“Just answer the damn question when I ask.”

“I did.”

“Okay then, what … exactly … did you hear?” Irritation coated her tone.

He rubbed at the side of his ear. “Uh … like on the order of a howl? Could it have been a coyote?”

“No. This was …” She ran a hand into her hair and tightened her fists around the tendrils. “It was a scream. A woman’s scream. I heard it. Clear as a bell.”

“Probably just animals.” No way could he say the sound he’d heard had been anything but wildlife given he and Taylor stood alone on her property. Ian opened his eyes wide, searching beyond the edge of her land, to her house, to the only other barn on the property, hoping he would find the animal in question.

He found nothing.

Taylor stood at the yellow tape. “Here.”

“Here what? You mean the sound? No, not there. Out there.” Ian pointed toward the line of trees.

A bend and duck put Taylor on the other side of the barrier.

“Wait!” The thought of her imprint on the earth—the scene of the crime—made him cringe. Tripp would roast his balls over coal for letting her touch it. Her shape flitted to the outer edge, and a cold chill caused goosebumps to pop up on Ian’s arms. “What’re you doing?” His voice carried off with the wind as the only light from above disappeared.

“Looking.”

Air swirled around him as darkness took a deeper hold. “For?”

“Her.”

“Her who, Taylor? There’s no one here.”
Except animals. Ones that bite. And hurt.

“The voice.”

Ian itched to jump the yellow line and grab Taylor. “That was a coyote.”
Right?

“Maybe to your ears, but not to mine. It was a woman.”

“Please, come back.” The hair raised higher on Ian’s arms. “To me. To this side of the yellow line. Out of the dirt. Even I’m not stupid enough to put my footprint on it.”

“I won’t mess this up.”

“Dammit, woman, you’re standing in the middle of it!” Ian’s voice pitched deep and serious. “Come back here.” He stepped toward the barrier, but before his foot hit the dirt, he stopped.
I am not putting myself on the line for her. No, don’t do it. Not for a crazy woman who thinks I somehow drowned her. Twice.

“Ian?” Her voice trembled like a bass violin.

His body tensed, feet failing to take him any closer, his gut saying he should remain as far away as possible.

“Ian!” A hitch took her breath.

Another cry echoed through the dark. Taylor still stood in the middle of the spot, her body upright but unmoving.

“Come here already.” His own voice shook as the thought of being mauled by wild animals failed to appeal to him. Ian and camping would never cross paths.

“I—I—can’t.”

Dammit. What is wrong with her?

“Help me, Ian.”

“Oh, for the love of all that’s human.” Ian chucked off his shoes, flung them to the side. He rolled up his pant legs and ducked under the yellow tape.

Three steps took him to the center. A thunderclap shook the earth, and the sky broke. One grab pulled her from her frozen spot and into his arms as he trudged back across the line and into the wet grass.

“Shh.” Ian soothed when she didn’t let go and trembled against him. “We need to go back to the car.” Her head shake and the jerk of her chest against his warred with his desire to get out of the rain. “We’re getting soaked,” he said.

She stayed quiet, her cheek nestled against him.

Water poured from their heads, drenching them both. Droplets bounced from the dirt up onto his legs. The rush of falling water continued, drowning out anything else.

Ian tipped Taylor’s chin up. She blinked as rain soaked her face, dripping down her chin. With a tentative movement, he touched his lips to hers.

Each pulled back but not out of the embrace.

Taylor returned her lips to his, an intoxicating mix of lust, desire and the sweetness of honey. His hands moved upward to take her face between his palms. Their tongues danced against each other. The softness bore down on his heart and caught in his throat.

He’d never hurt her. Ever. Not on purpose.

• • •

Taylor poured herself into the kiss, the warmth, the radiance, the beauty of it. While the water dribbled all over her, she ran her hands up Ian’s chest and around his neck.

Opening her eyes, she found the face of the man she loved.

“We shouldn’t be here,” he said.

“I know, but I missed you.” She ran her hands down and to the belt around his waist, one fashioned of braided wheat stalks from the farm where he worked.

“Your mama ever finds out about this, she’ll skin me,” he said.

She smiled up at him, the rain drenching every inch of them, even underneath the oak’s broad arms. “Mama need never know.”

His lips took hers again as she pulled him toward the tree’s trunk, leaned against it and tugged until his body fit hers. He’d always been so welcoming, yet shy.

“You’re the man I love. Why must there be these here rules?” Fingertips to face, cheeks, forehead, eyelids and nose. She loved to touch him, to run her hands over his skin, against the hard planes of a working man’s muscles, and lower when time allowed.

“Them townsfolk say you’ve taken up with the belt man.”

She pulled back, shock and dismay coursing through her. “And you believe them?”

He shook his head. “Never.” His hands gripped her waist, tugging her closer, tighter against the growth in his breeches.

Above them the tree’s branches rustled, water falling through and upon them.

“Someday, someday we won’t need to hide,” she said. “Nor make love only in the dark or in the rain.”

His lips curved. “I’d like that, milady. One day, I would like to make love to you under the auspices of the night sky without the fear of death.”

“I will make it so, John. I will make it so.”

• • •

On a rush of air, Ian pulled away from Taylor. He stared at her, the sad eyes, the tormented soul, the weariness. The rain slowed, trickling to just a mist as the only streetlight blinked on. Drips hit him between the eyes and snaked down his nose, but the tremble didn’t come from the cold or the tickle.

It arose from the memory. The vision. The thoughts that had passed through his mind while they kissed.

Not real. Just weirdness from being outside.

“Ian?” Taylor asked.

“Yeah?” His voice escaped breathy and unsure.

“Did you … I mean …” She exhaled against him. “Never mind.” Taylor leaned up, laid a touch to the side of his lips. At her shiver, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her tighter against him, and rubbed up and down her back. “I think I’m going crazy. I have to be.”

He feared his question, but it had to be asked. “Why?”

Taylor angled up to him. “Because … because I’d have sworn I had an out of body experience just now.”

“Like … aliens from space came and snatched you?”

She giggled but bobbled her head side to side against him. Into his shirt, she said, “I called you John.”

“You did, yeah.”

Taylor jumped back, out of Ian’s arms. “You heard that?”

As loud and clear as the coyote that doesn’t exist, yup.
“Do you want me to have heard it?”

Her lips quirked up. “Can I … can I try something?”

“Sure.”

Taylor moved toward him again, slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. She tugged him toward her and merged her lips with his.

Ian accepted the kiss without hesitation, tilting his head left as she went right and reversing their positions a moment or two later.

Taylor slowed their progress, pulling back and meeting his gaze. “Nothing happened,” she said.

“What did you expect?”

Her head shook. “I don’t know. Something. Something … weird. But you felt it, right?”

“I’m not sure
what
I felt, but you did call me John, and if you want to kiss me in the rain again, I’m happy to oblige.”
Always. Forever.

“We better go.” Taylor slipped her hand to Ians, and together they walked back to the car.

Standing at the driver’s side door, Ian gazed out at the yard, and in his mind’s eye, a large oak loomed in just the spot where Taylor had stood.

When he blinked, it disappeared.

14

Ian woke calm, nude and alone. He’d slept the sleep of the dead, waking at no time during the night. Rested and with as clear a head as he could believe possible, he slipped to the side of the guest bed, grabbed the robe Lexi always left draped over the chair and tied it on tight enough so Emma couldn’t yank it off and attempt to embarrass him.

Muffled sounds of chatter reached him from below. A check of the clock showed it to be close to nine, yet no one had bothered to wake him. The stair creaked beneath his foot, and the sounds in the kitchen stopped, but the scent of sweetness spiraled toward him.

Bypassing the empty living room, Ian ended up in the kitchen, where Lexi and Tripp sat on one side of the table with Emma across from them.

“Where’s Taylor?”

“Who?” Emma sipped from a mug.

“Want some breakfast, Ian?” Lexi pushed to stand, but Tripp pressed her back down and rose.

“Uh … Taylor?”

“Again, who?” Emma tipped the cup up.

Ian pulled out a chair and plopped into it. “What the hell are you up to, Emma? Taylor. I brought her here last night.”

“Maybe you were dreaming?” Not a hint of smile broke through.

“Huh?”
Dammit, is that what’s happening to me? Am I dreaming these out of body experiences?

“Dude, do you see Taylor here?” Emma asked.

Ian twisted left and right. “No.”
What the hell is going on with me?

“Exactly.”

He dropped his head into his hands. Had it all really been a dream?

Lexi chuckled.

Tripp’s slap to the back of the head had Ian popping upright. “Emma’s been ready to play that little charade since Taylor woke and told her about your midnight kiss in the rain. She’s in the shower, by the way.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “You’re one conniving little—”

“Sister.” Lexi’s interjection couldn’t stop his thoughts or the smile.

“Payback’s a bitch, Emma. Be prepared.” He inclined his head toward her. “How are you, Lex?” Ian twirled a finger in her direction. “I mean … you know.”

“Well, the docs claimed there was nothing they could do so early in the game, and everything on the inside looked good, and I haven’t had any problems since, so … I think we’re good.” The bags under her eyes said her worries hadn’t disappeared. She leaned into Tripp’s body when his arm draped across the back of her shoulders.

Ian grabbed a banana from the bowl in the center. “What did Taylor say this morning?”

“She said you snore.” Emma grabbed a lemon poppy seed muffin from the tray.