High Energy (34 page)

apartment as fast as she could.

She needed to—had to—reach Tyber. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew

she wasn't thinking rationally.

She was probably in shock. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except

reaching Tyber.

Somehow, she was in her car, driving to the mansion. Horrifying, disjointed

thoughts raced across her mind. What if LaLeche had headed out to the mansion?

What if he had already harmed them? These tortured thoughts hammered at her as

she sped along the highway to the house, miraculously not stopped by a trooper

for speeding.

Overlying everything was the gut-wrenching irrational fear, the unqualified need

to see Tyber. To have him hold her. For him to rub her back and whisper in her

ear in that special way he had, telling her not to worry, that everything would

be all right.

Fumbling in her purse, she found the gate opener, letting herself onto the

grounds. She turned into the curve of the drive, her tires squealing as the car

braked to a stop. It was still rocking when she slammed the door, racing up the

stairs and into the house.

Passing the parlor, she noted Hambone lying in the sun in front of the large

picture window. She closed her eyes in relief, not stopping her frantic search.

She headed toward the rear of the house and the kitchen. Before she could get

there, the hall door swung open.

Tyber padded out of the kitchen in stockinged feet and jeans, a half-eaten

brownie in one hand, a stack of computer sheets in the other. He didn't notice

her right away because his attention was focused on the readouts in his hand.

He looked so completely normal, she had the absurd desire to cry.

When he realized that she was standing there, he stopped, staring at her in

controlled silence. His raking glance did a swift survey of her torn clothes,

her cut and swollen lip, the already purpling bruises.

"Where's Blooey?" she demanded in a quivering voice.

Tyber regarded her intently. "He's out in the far acreage planting spring bulbs.

What happened to you?" His voice was evenly modulated steel.

Her bottom lip began to tremble. Suddenly she covered her face with her hands

and sank to the floor, sobbing.

The computer papers and brownie fell unheeded to the floor. Instantly, Tyber was

beside her, kneeling down, gathering her in his arms. "What is it? What is it,

baby?" He rocked her in the security of his embrace.

"It-it was LaLeche." She sobbed.

Tyber went still. "What did he do?"

"He-he cornered me in my apartment. I don't know how he found me—he must have

been watching me." The very idea brought tremors. Tyber rubbed her back,

silently urging her to continue, dreading what he was about to hear.

"He said he wanted revenge… against both of us. He said he could—he could d-do

whatever he wanted to me and there was nothing I could do about it." She

clutched his soft flannel shirt in an iron grip. Above her bent head, Tyber

closed his eyes in pain for what she had suffered.

"Are you hurt, baby? Let me take you to a hospital."

"No! I want to stay here with you! I don't want to go anywhere!" She seemed

almost hysterical. Tyber tried to soothe her.

"I understand, sweetheart, but if he… hurt you, you need to go to the hospital."

"He didn't… get that far. I was so scared, Tyber. I told him we had a file on

him. He stopped. I don't know why. Before he left, he told me he would come for

me again. He—" She couldn't go on.

So LaLeche hadn't raped her as he had feared. Tyber sent a silent thank you

heavenward. Silly, he knew, but faith showed up at the oddest times.

No, LaLeche didn't rape her, but he had scared her witless. She would carry the

scars of this for the rest of her life. It would be a long time before her

spunky confidence came back. She had lost a lot of her bright-eyed innocence

today. And the bastard had physically hurt her, used violence against his baby….

Tyber wanted to kill him.

"What if he comes here, Tyber? He threatened Blooey and Hambone—said he would

poison the poor cat." Still clutching his shirt, her tear-streaked face

beseeched him. Tugged at him. When he looked at her, he wanted to cry himself.

The bastard had really done a number on her.

He would pay. But not now. Now he needed to take care of her, reassure her as

best he could.

"Don't be frightened, baby; you're safe here. I would never let anything happen

to you." To reinforce his words, he pressed kisses tenderly against her eyes,

her forehead, her cheeks. His tender ministrations opened up a flood of emotions

in her, and she sobbed in great wracking spasms; she broke his heart.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her upstairs to their bedroom. Afraid

she would go into shock, he gently removed her clothes, placing her tenderly

under the heavy quilts.

Knowing that his own body heat was the best remedy, he quickly shed his own

clothes, getting under the covers and wrapping her to him.

"Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry." He rocked her in his arms. "You're safe. I

won't let him touch you, I swear. I love you too much to let anything happen to

you. Kiss me, Curls— that's right. Again. So sweet. You're so sweet."

"Hold m-me, Tyber."

"I'm holding you. See? I'm holding you right against me; there's nothing to be

afraid of."

"You won't let him—" She shivered against him.

"No. Never." He held her tightly to him.

She put her arms around his neck, drawing him down to her. "Make love to me,

Tyber, please. Erase his touch, his memory, his words. You won't let him hurt

me?"

"Shh." He kissed her gently on the mouth, cognizant of her emotional and

physical fragility.

Her lips clung to his in need, in passion, in reaffirmation of all that was good

and decent in her life. This was Tyber, her safe haven.

He came over her, covering her with himself. A human blanket of warmth and

security.

His lips played with her ear. Lulling. Calming.

"What did I say to you?" he whispered.

"You—you said you loved me."

Tyber did not want her to think of anything but his words to her. He wanted her

thoughts only on him; he wanted to eradicate the ugliness, the horror she had

experienced. He inserted his leg between hers, opening her to him. "Tell me

again, baby."

"You said you loved me—Tyber!" He entered her with one sure, even stroke.

"Yes, I love you," he breathed softly in her ear. Purposely, he moved in her,

gently at first, his stroking actions, designed to be soothing, slowly became

more powerful with each drive against her.

"Again," he insisted of her, wanting her to know him now, to feel him and never

forget that he was the one.

She moaned against his shoulder. "You said you loved me."

His tongue swirled around her lobe; his hands slid down under her derriere to

cup her hard against him. He rocked tight to her, locked deep inside.

His hand came up now to caress the side of her face, pressing it flush to his

own so her lips were against his ear, and his against hers. In this intimate

pose, he asked her the one and only thing he wanted to hear. His voice was a hot

vibration against the inner folds.

"Tell me," he demanded breathlessly.

"I love you."

"Yes," he groaned. It was a deep, heart-felt sound that came from somewhere

around his soul. He rubbed his cheek against hers. "Always. Always."

"I love you," she whimpered. "Oh God, Tyber, I love you."

"I know, baby. I know." His mouth covered her own, melding with it, fusing with

it.

The culmination of their union came to them both at once, complete and

everlasting. An ending. A beginning.

Tyber slipped quietly from beneath the blankets so as not to awaken Zanita.

She had fallen asleep in his arms shortly after they made love. The events of

the day, the emotional roller-coaster she had experienced, and finally, this

last physical act had taken their toll. Her energy resources depleted, she had

fallen into an exhausted slumber.

Good. Sleep was the best healer.

He slipped his clothes back on, silently leaving the bedroom on stockinged feet.

When he reached the foyer, he picked up the hall phone, punching in a set of

memorized numbers. The call was answered promptly. Tyber did not waste time on

preliminaries.

"Where is he?"

"Who?"

"Don't play games with me, Sean. I know you would have followed him when he left

my house on Sunday. Now, where is he?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"He threatened Zanita. Scared her. Bad."

There was a brief pause, then, "He's renting a little cottage outside of Hill

Town up on Blue Ridge Road. Yellow paint. White trim. Number 109." Tyber made to

hang up, but Sean forestalled him. "Evans!"

"What?"

"Don't do anything stupid. I'll be right behind you. You'll have fifteen

minutes."

"I owe you one, buddy. Thanks."

Tyber searched out Blooey, giving him an edited version of what had happened.

Blooey was furious, threatening to take up arms himself and go after the scurvy

toad.

Tyber calmed him down, asking him to check in on Zanita while he was out,

instructing him not to wake her. Blooey knew exactly what Tyber was about. The

Captain took care of his own. Aye, he was a good man to serve with.

"Ye don't have to worry none about me, Captain. I'll take the watch for ye. Go

about yer business now."

The small house was dark except for the one light shining in the right front

room.

Tyber debated the best way of gaining entrance, finally deciding that the

simplest ways usually worked the best. He knocked on the front door first. He

didn't really expect LaLeche to answer, so was taken off guard a little when he

did.

LaLeche appeared faintly surprised to see Tyber Evans on his front stoop. He

made to shut the door, but Tyber stopped him by shoving his way into the house.

Gaining entrance, he slammed the door closed behind him.

"I want to talk to you, Xavier." Tyber's soft tone held a lethal intensity.

"Maybe some other time. As you can see, I'm a little busy right now." LaLeche

ignored Tyber, busily emptying out a bureau and throwing the contents into a

duffel bag.

Tyber ground his teeth together, resisting the urge to choke the life out of

this scumbag. "I ought to just kill you, but I guess I'm going to have to be

civilized and warn you first. Stay away from Zanita. If I ever see or hear of

you coming near her again, I'll—"

LaLeche stopped packing. He turned and faced Tyber, a knowing smirk on his face.

"You'll what? Don't jerk with me, Doctor Evans. For christsakes, you're a

physicist."

"Sometimes," Tyber responded smoothly.

LaLeche regarded him in a new light. "Interesting. I'd love to stick around and

discover all of your intriguing facets, but I really need to be going."

"I don't think so."

"Now there's where you're wrong, Doctor. Get out of my way." He made to push

past him, but Tyber slammed him against the back of the door.

"You're going away all right, and for a long time, pal. But before you go, I

intend to reach an understanding with you. I want you to forget all about

Zanita. I want you to forget about ever coming near my lady or anything else of

mine again. I want you to forget all about any twisted notion you have for

revenge. And to make sure you do"—Tyber slammed his fist hard into LaLeche's

groin—"a little something to remember me by."

LaLeche doubled over, clutching his middle. The man had a fist like iron. "You

son of a bitch," he rasped.

"You don't know the half of it. If you think you're cute with special effects,

you should see how adorable I can become with lethal substances."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a regular MacGyver."

"What's that supposed to mean?" LaLeche tried to straighten up, gasping to

regain his breath.

"If anything should ever happen to Zanita, or me for that matter, I'll make sure

that certain plans are set into motion. For instance, have you ever seen a man

suffering from radiation poisoning? It can be a slow, painful death. First your

hair falls out; then your teeth. You bleed—"

"You're bluffing."

"No, I'm good at solving problems. Do yourself a favor—don't become one for me."

"Shit."

LaLeche believed him. Tyber shoved him roughly aside, almost causing him to fall

to the floor. He threw the door open. With a last look conveying his deadly

sincerity, Tyber quietly closed the door behind him.

As soon as he cleared the walkway, Sean and his men began surrounding the house.

Tyber got into his truck, closed his eyes, and exhaled deeply. He had been

bluffing. But like any good pirate captain, he knew when to face an enemy down.

Even when he didn't have any cannons on board. Regardless of what happened,

LaLeche would never bother them again.

Zanita was still sleeping when he crawled back into bed with her.

She immediately turned toward him, burrowing into his warmth. He enfolded her in

his embrace, rubbing the top of her head with his chin.

"Where were you?" she mumbled.

"Miss me?" She nodded sleepily against his chest. "I got a phone call. How are