Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1) (46 page)

“I can send a clean-up team,” Asa said. “Crime scene techs. Very competent.”

“The ones that come in after detectives and coroners are done? Don’t think so.”

“They’re not affiliated with law enforcement,” Asa said calmly. “Private cases only. Discretion assured. Expensive as all fuck.”

“I’m rich, you’re rich,” Noah said. “Do it.
But
I don’t want the slave soldiers wrapped in plastic and thrown in a muddy hole. Those two did the impossible. They’re heroes.”

“They’ll be handled with respect. I’ll get you their ashes to spread. Will somebody help me get my men out to the van? Or do I have to hold you guys at gunpoint to get that done?”

Sisko and Zade obliged. Fortunately for Noah, since his body did not respond to his brain’s commands. He stood there, empty and hollow. Alone with the corpses.

Caro came back after a few minutes, and found him there. She took his arm and towed him around the cadavers, through the rotting, crumbling house, circling around garbage and tumbled bricks. He left a trail of bloody prints in the dust behind him.

Then she drew him out in to the cold, sweet air of a new day.

Chapter 35

He was so beautiful, it broke her heart. Even ghostly white with plaster dust and smeared with blood. She’d never seen that look on his face. Raw, open and unguarded. The sapling firs that had grown up around the front entrance bent and swayed in the gusts of raw wind. He had to be so cold, wearing nothing but those stretchy boxers.

Then she clutched his arm to steady him on the broken, uneven steps, and realized that he wasn’t cold in the least. He radiated roaring, bonfire heat.

Asa’s van braked abruptly in front of them. His window hummed down.

“I’ll be in touch about the confession,” Asa said. “Give me a day or so.”

Caro looked at him blankly. “Huh?”

Asa’s voice was impatient. “For the police, remember? Four different vantage points, audio and video. We both heard Mark say loud and clear that he killed Dex Boyd. And Tim Wheaton. Now the police can hear him say it, too. Didn’t you want to clear your name? Wasn’t that a thing for you?”

“I forgot all about it,” she said. “In all the excitement.”

“Lucky for you, I didn’t,” Asa said. “Anyway, do what you want with it. I imagine you don’t want the cops to see everything on it, especially that weird shit with the slave soldiers, but you guys can work that out for yourselves. I’m gone.”

The van surged forward. The red taillights retreated into the dripping greenery.

Zade’s van pulled out next. She glimpsed Hannah’s pale, exhausted face in the window of the passenger seat as they exchanged weary waves.
Then Mark’s big truck rolled away, driven by Sisko.

“Do you have a vehicle here?” she asked Noah.

He squinted against the light. “No,” he said. “We came with Sisko and Zade. And they all just left.”

They gazed after the disappearing taillights, and Caro began to laugh. “Oh, man,” she said. “That is funny. We do battle with the forces of evil, avoid death by a hair, ransom our lives back from the pits of hell . . . and forget to arrange a ride home.”

“My fault.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said quickly, before he could. “Why is it your job to think of everything?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Because it is?”

“Not anymore. Welcome to the new world order.” She tugged his arm. “The emergency getaway car you guys hid for me is thataway.” She pointed. “I’d say maybe less than a mile if we cut straight through the woods.”

He stared at the thick forest. “And if we take the road?”

“Much longer. Obviously, we can’t hitchhike. No cars.”

“And if there were . . .” He looked down at his briefs like he just realized that’s all he was wearing. “I wouldn’t stop for myself.”

“What happened to your clothes?”

He coughed, rackingly. “The soldier who picked me up after the drone shot me took them. He was packing me up for transport.” He stumbled again.

She hurried to wrap her arm around him. “Can you walk? Where are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Just sore. And having an adrenaline crash. Food would help. Or lying around in bed for a few weeks with you. Naked.”

“Do you ever not think along those lines, Noah? I mean, you’re barefoot, and your feet are bleeding. Stop. Sit down.”

“I’m not going back in that place,” he said.

“Then go sit over there, by those birches. You can sit on that big one that fell. I’ll hike to the car and come back for you.”

“No,” he said forcefully. “I’m not taking my eyes off you ever again. For the rest of my life. My feet will be fine.”

Her face went so hot, the cold, misty rain against her face felt good.

He probably didn’t really need her to hold onto him. Still, she had no way of knowing if he was injured internally. He wouldn’t admit to so much as a twinge of pain.

So she walked with him to the clump of birches, taking everything she saw, from the dark gray clouds that hung heavy and swollen to the rustling patter of rain and the earthy sweetness that it released from the forest floor. The swish and murmur of wind in the firs, the raindrops glittering on every leaf, twig and pine needle, each detail was jewel sharp and clear. The forest around them was infinitely deep, growing deeper every second as her senses opened and merged with it. And Noah’s eyes had that thrilling amber glow that made her heart quicken and her thighs quiver.

Amber?
Suddenly, it dawned on her. “Noah. You’re outside in daylight, with no shield lenses or even any shield specs on.”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “I know.”

“And are you—I mean, is the AVP—”

“It’s running hot, but I’m OK. It’s not driving me crazy, for some reason. I’m fine. I still can’t believe it. You’re alive. We’re all alive. We did it. Holy shit, Caro.” His voice cracked, and he pulled her into his arms “That was so fucking close.”

God, it felt so good to hold him. Pleasure and relief shuddered through her body. He was so warm and strong, and his tender grip was just what she craved. The love, the care, the belonging.

She cupped the back of his head and kissed him. He tasted coppery and hot. And beneath that, there was the essence of him, the feel of him. Lithe and vital and strong. Still here. Still hers.

She realized that she was crying only when Noah began kissing the tears from her cheeks. He rested his forehead against hers, swaying slightly. Unsteady on his feet.

“You’re hurting,” she said.

He flinched as he dragged in a painful breath. “It’s nothing.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said. “Just let me take care of you for once. Please.”

“I’m fine, and I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he said stubbornly. He ignored her outstretched hand as he lowered himself onto the fallen birch.

She sat down beside him, resting a hand on the white bark stippled with black. He covered it with his, adjusting his position with another subtle flinch of pain.

He stared blankly at the birch trees for a few moments. He looked exhausted. “You know, when I was a kid, I used to think those black lines were writing that I couldn’t read.”

“Maybe it is,” she said. “And you know what? I thought the same thing.”

“Yeah. Well . . . Caro,” he began. “
Guess this is as good a time as any for us to talk.
I have to say something to you. Before I lose my nerve.”

Her belly clenched. “Go ahead.” Here it comes, she thought miserably.
It’s not you, it’s me. I’ll always be a loner. What happened between us was just one of those things.
Which would he pick? And did it matter? Male rationales were more alike than not.

“I saw the look on your face, after my fight with Mark,” he said. “It looked like you were scared of me.”

Apprehension gripped her. “I was in shock. That was all.”

“You had reason to be,” he said. “Because this shit is scary.”

“Noah . . .” She cut herself off. Didn’t want to relive any of it.

“Just listen.” He lifted his head, and stared into her eyes. “You know, you could have your life back. Your old life. As Caro Bishop.”

“I suppose I could, thanks to you. So? What’s your point?”

Noah sighed. “This isn’t easy to say. I did a lot of chest beating the other night. How you’re mine, mine, mine. But now that we’re here, I can’t ask you to stay. It was different before. My mods protected you from Mark before. But that’s all over. And everything that I am just puts you in more danger. Again.”

She lifted her chin. “Are you done yet?”

“You’d never have a normal life with me,” he persisted. “There will always be life-or-death secrets to keep. You have a chance to walk away. Have a real
life.”

“I tried that, Noah. Somehow I never got the hang of it. Maybe I’m not cut out for normal, whatever that means.”

“Caro.” He sighed raggedly. “I love you. But I can’t keep you safe. No matter how much I want to. Walk away. Send one of the guys back for me. Go to the car. I won’t try to stop you.”

She stroked his cheek. “No,” she said simply.

“Why not?” His eyes blazed with fiercely controlled emotion.

“Because it’s too late,” she said. “You’ve changed me. I can’t go back to being who I was before you came along. Maybe we are too different . . . but I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you.”

“You sure about that?”

She thumped the solid tree they sat on. “Yes.”

“What if you change your mind?”

She shook her head. “About you? Never.”

He grinned. His big, wide grin that didn’t fade away. “OK, then. We’re on.”

She was too rattled and exhausted to decode that. “What the hell are you talking about now?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I wanted to do this before all hell broke loose. Just in case we didn’t make it. But here we are.”

“Do what?”

“We belong together, Caro.”

She couldn’t quite believe he’d said the words. “And that means . . .”

“I have to improvise. Can’t kneel right now, though. Sorry.” Noah peeled off a strip of birch bark and took her hand, curling the speckled white shred of papery bark around her finger. “Caro,” he said. “My goddess. My warrior woman.
Mistress of my bedchamber. Keeper of my heart and soul. Please, marry me. Eventually, or as soon as we get back to Seattle. I don’t care. Just so long as you say yes.”

She gulped. Dumbstruck.

His beautiful amber eyes searched hers.

The smile started in the depths of her being and radiated out from there.

“Yes.” The single word held so much she couldn’t say. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Caro,” he whispered. “I love you.”

* * *

He held her for the longest time. It still seemed too short.

They kissed with desperate tenderness. Talked too, rushing the words, then falling silent. Then kissed again. He was too injured to make love, though it pained him most of all to admit it.

Only when fat raindrops began pattering down in earnest did they come to their senses and start moving.

They headed ever deeper into the lush, tangled woods hand in hand, slipping and sliding on wet leaves and mud and pine needles as the rain beat down on them.

Laughing and crying. Heading home.

THE END

About the Author

Shannon McKenna is the NYT bestselling author of fifteen action packed, turbocharged romantic thrillers. She loves tough and heroic alpha males, heroines with the brains and guts to match them, villains who challenge them to their utmost, adventure, scorching sensuality, and most of all, the redemptive power of true love. Since she was small she has loved abandoning herself to the magic of a good book, and her fond childhood fantasy was that writing would be just like that but with the added benefit of being able to take credit for the story at the end. The alchemy of writing turned out to be messier than she'd ever dreamed, but what the hell, she loves it anyway and hopes that readers enjoy the results of her experiments. She loves to hear from her readers. Contact her at her website,
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