Jamie (18 page)

Behind the black mask, eyes narrowed. “I don't like you, Kyle.”

“And you think I give a shit?”

“You will. Get up.”

Kyle's eyes glittered when he smiled. “Yeah, I'll get up, you ignorant puke.” He rushed to his feet with a feral growl, plowing forward with all the momentum of a linebacker.

At the last second, one fast step to the side sent Kyle face-first into the dirt. A knee landed in Kyle's back, and with a hold on two fingers, he ended up with his arm painfully twisted back and high.

“Now do you care?”

“Go to hell—
ahh,
stop it!”

“Do you know how easily I could break your fingers, your wrist, or even your elbow?” The arm went higher—and so did Kyle's squeals of pain. “There, you see, Kyle? A good fighter knows how to use leverage in hand-to-hand combat, to make use of the natural movement of his body, which places his opponent's body in a position of
unnatural
movement.”

“Fuck you,” Kyle ground out between clenched teeth.

“It's not about strength, Kyle. A person half your size can defeat you by using smarts—something you seem to be missing.” The knee pressed harder, making Kyle fight for every breath. “So tell me, why are you carrying so much cash and hanging out here alone?”

“I was gonna buy some dope, okay?” He groaned. “Turn me loose.”

Oh-ho. Talk about unexpected news.
“From who? Who's selling you drugs?”

It took a little more twisting before Kyle spilled his guts. But as promised, once he did, he got released. However, the second the pressure eased on his arm, he lurched to his feet and again tried to attack.

“Idiot.” The word barely emerged before bodies collided. Knowing how to go with a fall had its advantages, as did speed and agility. They rolled, and in the process, an elbow deliberately met with Kyle's balls.

His muscles suddenly useless, Kyle went limp, groaning in pain.

Oh yeah, that hurt.

Satisfaction started to grow—and a noise intruded. Had someone else joined them? Listening hard provided only the sounds of birds and insects and a gentle breeze rustling tree leaves.

But there was no reason to take chances.

Another roll, a quick adjustment to make sure the disguise stayed in place, and it was time for a quick retreat.

Standing over Kyle made the fallen man feel more defeated, more helpless—just as intended. “You're a coward, Kyle.”

“You won't get away with this,” Kyle wheezed, still holding his crotch.

“I'm standing. You're on the ground crying like a baby girl. I'd say I've already gotten away with it.”

Kyle tried one more surprise attack—and got knocked out cold for his effort. Damn idiot.

Time to go. And if the buzzards ate him . . . well, it was no more than he deserved.

While dodging across the street toward the concealment of trees and a hidden car, the attacker grinned.

A few more tricks, and Jamie Creed would expose himself. He wouldn't be able to resist.

 

 

Damn. Mosquitoes seemed determined to have a fine feast. But there'd be no leaving the concealing weeds until Kyle . . . oh, good. The idiot finally started to groan, then sat up. He dug a cell phone out of his pocket and made a call, then stood and walked—more steady than otherwise—to his car.

So he'd survive. And maybe, just maybe, Kyle would learn a thing or two.

The smile came unexpectedly, but this was almost fun. Of course, if things continued, a report would have to be made. But for now, it seemed safe enough to just observe.

Timing was everything.

And surely a little more time wouldn't hurt.

 

 

Jamie actually enjoyed his shopping trip. Throughout the year, there were occasions when he had to purchase things that the moonshiners couldn't provide. He'd gotten used to the stares, to feeling out of place, to hearing the thoughts of fear, pity, sometimes even disgust as shoppers moved in a wide arc around him, unwilling to get too close.

But before shopping this time, Joe had taken him to the outskirts of the adjoining town, where they visited a small barber first. Jamie now had a smooth jaw and neatly trimmed hair that curled a little over his ears and nape, but wasn't long enough for his usual ponytail.

During the rest of the drive, Joe kept peering at him in wonder. At one point he'd said, “Don't take this the wrong way, Jamie, but you're actually a good-lookin' guy.”

Jamie had almost laughed, except that Joe did enough laughing for the both of them. It had felt ... companionable. Comfortable. The same sort of camaraderie he'd often seen between Scott, Bryan, and Bruce. He'd denied any yearning then, but now he could admit how badly he'd wanted to be a part of their group.

Once they reached the town, they split Jamie's list and went separate ways. Joe would get some of the food and medicinal supplies that Jamie needed while doing his own shopping, and Jamie roamed the various shops in the mall, picking up things for Faith.

He enjoyed buying her clothes. Panties, shirts, shorts. More clothes than she'd asked for, but so what? He had money that he never spent, because there was very little he needed.

Amazing how a few small changes could make him reputable to the other shoppers. His clothes were the same, well worn and faded from age and wear. His manner was the same, aloof and wary. Yet everywhere he went, women glanced at him—but only with admiration, not out of some swooning melodrama because he reminded them of a spook. Hell, here in the bordering city, no one even knew him. They didn't know that he'd lived for years as a recluse, isolated because of a stark fear he wouldn't have admitted to anyone.

For only a moment, Jamie paused, opening his mind to the crowd around him. For the most part, people's thoughts were mundane at best, ridiculous at worst. So much silliness annoyed him, and he turned his focus back on Faith.

A big mistake, that.

Her image hit Jamie like a kick in the guts, stopping him dead in his tracks. He saw Faith clearly, standing in the shower, her face turned up, her hair slicked back, lingering just as he'd suggested. Water ran over her throat, her breasts, and down her belly, onto her thighs.

As Jamie concentrated on her, she turned her back to the spray, and this time her head dropped forward. She covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders shook.

Shit.
Was she crying?

Someone bumped into Jamie, and with a start, he recalled the here and now. The middle of a busy mall wasn't the best place to lose himself in remote viewing, but he couldn't quite force himself to leave Faith yet. He repositioned against a wall, away from the stream of human traffic, and stared off in the distance until he located her again.

She'd turned the water off and used a towel to dry herself. Jamie felt like a pervert, a damn voyeur. Hell, he'd already seen her naked. Every inch of her. From various angles. And remembering that wasn't appropriate to time and place either.

At least there weren't any tears on Faith's face, just a very sad expression, laced with worry. She flipped her hair forward to wrap in the towel, and Jamie surveyed the graceful line of her back, all the way down to that heart-shaped ass that begged to be enjoyed.

Jamie had enough packages in his arms to hide his sudden erection, but he couldn't conceal the flare of heat just under his skin, or the way his hands shook. He wanted Faith. She was willing. That would have to be enough.

With new urgency, Jamie headed for an exit to wait for Joe. His life had been forever altered. That fact both exhilarated him and scared him spitless. He wasn't sure he could handle all the changes.

But making love to Faith ... he'd have no problem handling that at all. In fact, it was top of the list once he got back on the mountain.

There were still a lot of questions that needed answers, but Jamie would be patient. He'd gain Faith's trust, wear her out sexually, and eventually she'd tell him everything he needed to know.

Bright sunshine reflected off the blacktop parking lot when Jamie stepped outside. A second later, Joe's truck pulled up close, proof that he'd been waiting for Jamie.

Through the open window, Joe asked, “You find everything?”

“Yeah.” Jamie stored the bags in the bed of the truck before getting in. He'd have a load to carry up the mountain, but he didn't mind. He'd been carrying things up that mountain for a good portion of his life.

This time, however, there'd be someone waiting for him when he got there.

After a moment, Jamie realized that Joe watched him. “What?”

Shaking his head, Joe half grinned. “I was just thinking about how the ladies are going to react when they see you now. I expect at least one of them to faint. And Jamie, keeping them away isn't going to be easy, you know that.”

“Buy me as much time as you can.”

“Spoken like a man who doesn't have to deal with a wife.” Joe left the parking lot and merged with traffic. “Luna is already fussing, Bruce says Cyn isn't sleeping, and Shay has grand plans on organizing a posse to come after you. Only Julie, who's caught up in wedding preparations, ever lets it go for more than an hour at a time. But even she's pushing.”

“I know.” Jamie sighed, as lost to the workings of the female mind as any other guy.

“I'm guessing tomorrow will be the big day. If not, then the day after for sure. An elephant couldn't hold the ladies off any longer than that.”

Chagrined, Jamie laid his head against the seat back. “They think Faith is going to hurt me.”

Joe shrugged, and ventured cautiously, “She might. ”

“No. I wouldn't let that happen.”

“Jamie . . .” Joe fell silent, then cleared his throat. “Damn, I hate this kind of shit.”

Swiveling his head toward Joe, Jamie asked, “What kind of shit?”

“You know.” He gestured helplessly. “Butting into other people's relationships. It's usually a no-win situation. But the truth is, where women are concerned, no man is immune from heartache.”

Because Jamie's experiences with women had stopped after Delayna, he was curious to hear Joe's thoughts on the subject.

Of course, he could have just taken those thoughts from Joe, but their relationship had changed, and now it seemed grossly impolite to intrude into the head of a friend. Especially when no threat existed. And besides, he enjoyed talking to Joe.

On a roll, Joe continued to share his opinion on the fairer sex. “No one and nothing can twist a guy inside out like a woman can. I swear, it's a talent they're all born with. Or maybe it's a weakness in the male species. But whatever the hell you call it, I'm telling you, Jamie, even you can't avoid it.”

“Faith can't hurt me.”

“Yeah, I forgot. You're all-powerful, all-knowing.” Joe made a disgusted face. “You're still a man, and you let it happen once with Delayna, right? So who's to say it couldn't happen again? None of us wants to see that.”

Jamie stared at Joe, half insulted, half bemused. “You think I'm fragile.”

“Physically, no. I imagine you could hold your own. ”

Male ego surfaced. “I'm a damn good fighter. I'm strong and fast, and I stay in shape.” Jamie tapped his forehead. “And I always know what the other guy is going to do.”

“Sure. The other
guy.
That doesn't count with a woman, though.” Joe squeezed the steering wheel and again flashed Jamie a look. “Listen, all I'm saying is to take it easy. Maybe go slow.”

Not likely. He'd been celibate for damn near a decade, and now Joe wanted him to go slow?
No, thank you.
Besides, making love to Faith would go a long way toward defining his ability. Jamie knew, once they were intimate, he wouldn't be able to stay indifferent to her. When he was deep inside her, when her heels dug into the small of his back and she tightened around him, then he'd see if he could still read her.

And thinking things like that weren't making the long drive back any easier. Jamie swallowed a groan, counted to ten, and then, already knowing the answer, he asked, “Did you go slow with Luna?”

Predictably enough, Joe stiffened. “That's different.”

“How? You didn't want to marry her when you met her. You just . . . wanted her. And you went after her. You even followed her here just to get her in bed.”

Judging by the flush of red on Joe's neck, he didn't appreciate the reminder. “Yeah, maybe. But I wasn't a damn recluse, floating down off my mountain only long enough to send the ladies into a swoon and to royally piss off the guys.”

Jamie blinked at that description, and half smiled. “Floating?”

Joe's brows lifted and he grunted in surprise. “Good God. Now you're smiling, too? Incredible.” He shook his head. “At least take some good advice.”

“Which is?”

“Take charge. You be the one in control. That's the only way to make sure your heart won't get trampled. And hell, sometimes that doesn't even work.”

“Control,” Jamie repeated, intrigued by that idea. “In bed?”

“Ha! Well...” Joe shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, sure. Especially in bed.”

Jamie considered that for a moment, imagining Faith stretched out naked atop his mattress, following his every instruction, doing anything and everything he asked—and he'd ask for a lot, enough to make up for ten years of abstinence. It wasn't a bad fantasy. “All right.”

Joe did a double take. “Why do I have the feeling you just misconstrued the point of everything I said?”