The Alignment (20 page)

“I understand what you mean.”

He turns away from me and starts the engine. I wonder if I should say more. Too many seconds pass and I feel like I’ve lost my chance. We drive home in silence, my brain feverish with unspoken words. It’s impossible to express how I feel about him, how badly I want him, while still acknowledging his marriage, his family, and the fact that he may not even be mine to want.

When we pull up to the house, he gets out of the truck but I remain in my seat. He comes around to open my door for me, a question in his eyes.

I slide down from the truck and look up at him. “I understand what you mean, and I agree.”

His face relaxes, and I can tell he aches to kiss me like I ache to kiss him. We lock eyes, daring each other to make the first move, until River bursts in between us. He grabs our purchases from the truck bed and we go inside.

Chapter 23

Trey

A
fter I hang
the new heavy bag, I pop it a few times to test it out. It feels good. That other one needed to be replaced a long time ago. I just never got off my ass to do it. I collect the pieces of the old one and carry it upstairs.

“Another body to dispose of?” she asks when she sees me. “So what do you do with them, anyway?”

“Family secret.”

“I thought I was in on all the family secrets.”

“Not all of them.” This reminds me of the last thing I need to tell her. By the end of the day, I will tell her. I go through the shopping bags to find the fleece-lined winter gloves I bought her, and her face lights up as I hand them to her. It takes so little to make her happy.

“You didn’t have to!” She puts them on. A perfect fit. “Who knew you were thoughtful?”

“I’m not. I just got tired of you using mine.”

She takes the gloves off and puts them on the table. “Why’d you come to the clinic that day after the crash? Why didn’t that one heal?”

I glance at her, surprised by the change of subject.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’ve been meaning to ask you that.”

“Sometimes they don’t have a chance to heal before I open them back up again. Stitches can help.”

“So, that cut I Steri-stripped at the clinic. You didn’t get that when we crashed?”

I try to remember. I should probably keep track of when they come, of how many I kill, but I never thought it was important. “I don’t think it happened in the crash. I don’t remember.” Wait. The guy I was too lazy to meet outside and allowed to come into my house and use one of my own kitchen knives on me. “Yes. It was an old cut. It reopened in the accident.” Once it finally comes back to me, I’m thankful for the reminder. I’ll be dead before I allow myself to become that careless again.

“If I’d known back then what I know now…” She shakes her head. “Crazy.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I go to bed early.”

She frowns as River stands up on the back door, hackles raised. This does not look good. I step outside with River, pulling the door closed behind me. It’s just as I thought. Not good. I go back inside and plod downstairs for a revolver and my rifle with the night vision scope. Liv tenses as she realizes what’s about to happen.

“There are three of them out there,” I tell her on my way back outside with the rifle, after setting the revolver on the table. I scan the large ponderosa pine that hangs over the house and fire once midway up. Branches break under the weight of the falling body, and a dull thud announces its landing in the yard below.

I go back inside. “That was one of them.” I lay the rifle on the table and put my hands on the back of the chair, bowing my head and closing my eyes. “God I’m so damn tired.”

“What can I do?”

When I look up, I can’t tell if her expression is panicked or excited. Maybe it’s a combination. “Just stay inside.” I stick the revolver in the back of my pants and go out the front door.

Come on, punks, let’s get this over with so I can go to bed. I wait and listen. I move over to the garage for some cover. Motion on the roof of the house sends me sprinting back. He lands next to me and I throw my elbow into his throat. I grab his arm, twisting him to the ground, yanking the knife out of his hand as something hits me in the leg.

Cursing, I fall back and pull a throwing knife out of my thigh. I push away the pain and replace it with rage. I shove myself up and lead them away from the house, away from her. Instantly, they are both on me. I twist, grabbing a throat, and throw him to the ground. The other one catches me in the same thigh with a knife. I hear a growl that must be me. I catch his wrist, break it and take the knife. I remember my gun but can’t get to it. In a split second, I’m on my back on the ground. I jab the knife deep into a stomach, and he falls to the side so I flip to my feet. The remaining one kicks my wounded leg, and I fall again. I lunge for his legs, but he moves, and then he’s on top of me.

A gunshot sounds from the house, catching him in his shoulder, spinning him, and I see my chance and land my fist in the back of his head. He slumps to the ground, unconscious. I roll away so she can finish him off, but she doesn’t shoot. She’s on the porch, her gun lowered. I limp back to the house.

“You’re hurt!”

“It’s okay. You saved my ass, do you know that?”

She nods.

“He’s not done though. You need to finish him off.”

“I know.” She hands me the gun. “I can’t do it.”

I take the gun from her, go out into the yard and put a lethal shot in each of them. She helps me back into the house and sits me down at the kitchen table. My revolver digs into my back, so I pull it out and put it on the table.

“Really bad night for them to send three.” I can barely hold my head up.

“Just give me a few minutes and you can lie down.” She’s already removed both my shoes and she’s pulling off my pants. I put my head down on the table, thankful she’s here to do this so I don’t have to. I’m vaguely aware of her flushing the wound, and I hear her say, “They got you here twice!” Then she makes me move so she can wrap it.

“Give me your hands.” She wipes the blood off my hands and dries them. “Now sit up and look at me.” I raise my head, and she wipes off my face and neck with a warm wet cloth. The cloth comes back red. I’m not sure if it’s my blood or theirs.

“I’m putting you in the bed.”

I’m too weak to complain. She leads me to the bedroom, pulls off my shirt, and I fall into bed. The covers stretch over me and the light goes off. She leaves the room and comes back to put a gun on the nightstand.

Sometime later, I awaken to her getting in bed with me. I turn toward her, take her in my arms, and fall into a dead sleep.

In the morning, I wake like I’ve been in another coma, like I’ve been washed up on the beach, healed by sun, massaged by waves. It’s still early, so I lie in bed and savor the moment. I doze back to sleep and wake up again to her unwrapping my leg.

“How do you feel?” She’s wearing one of my T-shirts. Her legs are bare.

“Better rested than I’ve been in a long time.” I drag her into bed with me. Her back is smooth through the shirt. No bra. What’s on bottom? I casually skim her hips with both hands. It feels like thin panties.

“You should have the doctor look at your leg. Will you come with me to the clinic? Please?”

“It’ll heal today. No worries.”

“Then I’ll wrap it again after you take a shower.”

I nod and pull her to me, my lips to her ear. “I owe you big time. If you hadn’t been here, I would’ve fallen asleep on the kitchen floor and bled to death.” She smells like citrus. Like something I want to eat, to hold inside me. Although I’d rather be inside her.

“Oh, you wouldn’t have bled to death—”

“I would’ve been dead out there. That makes two times you’ve saved my ass.”

She pushes away. “But it was easy. You don’t owe me.”

“Yes I do. What do you want? Anything. Except for one thing.” Other parts of my body oppose me, and I’m sure she can feel it.

She sighs. “How did I know you were going to say that?”

“Think of something you want. I won’t be satisfied unless I can make it up to you.”

She presses her lips together. Her eyes move to the side, then back to me. “I know. Take me to dinner. With my gift certificate.”

I laugh. “You can have anything, and that’s what you want?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to have to think of something better than that.”

I suddenly remember what I was supposed to tell her yesterday. Yesterday was my deadline and I missed it. But considering the circumstances, I’ll allow myself one more day. I pull her against me and bury my face in her neck, grazing her perfect skin with my lips. Responsibility melts away with all this temptation so close.

She groans. “You are so bad… Oh you are so unfair…”

“Shh.” I entertain the thought. Would it be so wrong? I roll, flipping her on top of me. Taking advantage of the new position, my hands slide around the backs of her legs, and I run my fingers along the inside of her thighs as they part on either side of me. She kisses me passionately, and I don’t resist. A physical pain similar to drug withdrawal tears through me when she pulls away.

“More?” Her innocent expression is the worst kind of tease.

I pull her toward me and kiss her again. The pressure on my dick is just right. Too right. I grab her ass and press her against me. Two thin pieces of fabric separate us, but they could easily be gone. I feel the layers of my control peeling away, until only a sliver remains.

Yes. It would be wrong.

I lift her off and lay her back on the bed. She reaches for me, and I take her hands and hold them. “This is why I need to sleep on the couch.”

She closes her eyes and her chest falls, letting all her breath out.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“We need to get up anyway.”

We get out of bed, and she flips down the quilt to reveal sheets smeared with blood. She starts stripping the bed. “I’m going to believe this is all your blood, not theirs. It’s all over the pillowcases, too.”

“It must have been in my hair.” I run my hand through my hair to check it. Nothing. At least not anymore.

I take a quick shower, drawing the sound of the water deep into my ears, trying to center myself and regain control. It seems like such a pointless undertaking. As I step out of the tub, my thoughts spring back to her with a vindictive jolt. I towel off and notice my leg bleeding again. I throw on some clothes.

“You’re going to have to take those right back off, buddy,” she says, noticing my jeans when I join her in the kitchen. “Don’t you
ever
shave?”

No time for shaving today. I catch her and kiss her hard. Her lips welcome mine, but when I slide my hands down her back to pick her up, she pushes me away.

After we eat she retrieves the bandages. I drop my pants to the floor, and she wraps my leg. “Does it hurt?”

“Not bad.”

“Is that an honest answer or are you being macho?”

“Definitely being macho.”

She hands me some ibuprofen and I exaggerate the act of taking them. I’m only taking them for her. Might as well make a show of it.

“Smartass,” she says.

Her body beckons me again. Maybe I should just accept my failed willpower. Calming my hunger for her proves to be a wasted effort as soon as she’s near me again. I already have a long list of sins, one more isn’t going to make a difference, and adultery pales in comparison to the others. I run my finger along her cheekbone, remembering how it felt to be wrapped in her legs, controlled by her whim.

“Stop it. You’re the one who keeps saying no.” She ducks around me.

She disappears down the hall, and I forcibly block the image of what would happen if I followed her. I go outside and drag the two bodies into the woods so she doesn’t have to see them on her way out. The one that fell from the tree is still there so I toss him in the woods too. All three of them left big messes, but there’s nothing I can do about that now.

She comes outside dressed for work, and I walk her to her car. I can tell she’s trying not to look. I watch her car roll away then clean up the best I can with my less than ideal mobility. I’m going to have to make a short day of it today. As I head to my first job, all I can think of is the heady scent of her neck. It leaves me wondering what I thought about every minute of every day before she came here.

I luck out on my job today—installing some electrical outlets in a new construction. When I finish, I make calls to the next two jobs and find out they aren’t even ready for me. I sit in my truck, going through my notebook to find another small job to keep me occupied today. There’s nothing. I call Wayne to see if he could use me. He tells me he just hired a new guy but if anything comes up he’ll give me a call.

I hit the grocery store for food and first aid supplies. The amount of bandages I’m going through is a clear indication of how much they’ve boosted their offense. Fuck them. They’re just going to run out of guys faster this way, and I’ll get a nice vacation until they stock up again. The cashier looks sideways at me as she rings up six boxes of bandages, and I suddenly feel a smile on my face, which I quickly drop. Maybe I should ask Liv if she can get me a pallet.

When I get home, I unwrap my leg to check the wound. Even I’m surprised how good it looks. I have a few hours to kill and the weather is perfect for a good run, which is probably too strenuous for freshly sealed skin. The guns need cleaning, but it’s hard to imagine spending a day like today in the basement.

All of a sudden I think of the Ninja parked in the garage. It’s been too long. I grab my riding jacket and go outside. It starts up like a beast, raring to be freed. I happily oblige.

The speed is intoxicating. I push the turns too far, daring myself to go faster. Each dangerous move feeds the next. And out of nowhere, the memory of that guy hugging Liv pops into my mind. I’ve got to do something about that guy.

Chapter 24

Liv

T
here’s no way
I can smuggle anesthetic out, but I take some supplies for the things I can do at home. I know he won’t come to the clinic if the wound opens again, so at-home care is what he’s going to get. It’s one of the many advantages of saving his life. He feels obligated to indulge my wishes. Well,
most
of my wishes. I hurry to get my bag, a physical thrill running through my body at the thought of seeing him soon. As I blast out the door, I hear my name.

Shawn is waiting to walk me to my car. “What’s the rush?”

I’m unable to think of an answer that would please him. “You know I’m going to tell you no, right?”

“You don’t know what I’m proposing yet.”

I laugh. “I think I have an idea.”

“It was a tease just seeing you for a minute yesterday. I need at least five. So tell me about your day.”

“My day was great, except for the end when I got harassed in the parking lot by this weirdo.” I try to remain straight-faced but fail.

“Sounds like you need a bodyguard. At all times. I’m pretty cheap…”

The hot whir of an engine coming closer drowns out our conversation. I see what’s making the sound, but it takes a few seconds to hit me. Oh no.

Trey turns off the engine, removes his helmet, swings his leg over the motorcycle. Then he’s coming toward us and I’ve had no time to break away. I look back at Shawn, who doesn’t even realize. He brushes my hair out of my eyes, and I’m not fast enough to stop him. Oh
god
no.

“Shawn,” Trey says, offering another aggressive handshake.

Shawn meets the handshake and seems to size Trey up for the first time.

“Ready for dinner?” Trey says to me.

“Oh hold on, she hasn’t answered me yet,” Shawn smiles his friendliest smile and crosses his arms on his chest.

I stare at both of them. Maybe I should just let them brawl it out. That’s what it seems like they want. But I really don’t want Shawn to get brutally murdered. With the two of them standing side by side, I notice they’re both about the same size. Trey only has about an inch on Shawn. Trey has more muscle tone, Shawn carries more mass. They’re probably matched in weight. But that’s where their similarities end. Trey’s dark expression is a harsh contrast to Shawn’s light-hearted charm.

And comparing the bodies of fighters to determine the outcome must be another way I’ve been warped by Trey Bevan.

“How about I get some clubs and you can pretend you’re cavemen?”

Neither one of them finds this funny. But I really didn’t intend it to be. I glance between the two of them, waiting for someone to make the first mature move.

“I’m sorry. Liv and I already had plans,” Trey says, seeming to sense my irritation. His sinister civility, coupled with the predator’s stare trained on Shawn, raise a glaring red flag I refuse to acknowledge. This is beyond ridiculous. “I owe her dinner,” he adds for my benefit. I’m sure he’s hoping I won’t blow his story.

Before I can control myself, I say, “We could do it another night.”

“I might not be available another night.”

Ooh. A threat. He should know better. “That would be a shame.”

Shawn chuckles. “You two don’t seem to be getting along anyway. Maybe it would be best if you just went on home.” He’s taken one step and turned in the slightest way, ending up facing Trey and blocking me out of the conversation at the same time.

Sounds around us muffle. Our air has become trapped in an invisible enclosure. Although Trey’s made no sign he heard the taunt, I see his muscles become rigid and his eyes fill with violence. His intentions were clear before, but now they have been set in motion. All my hostility toward Trey’s behavior is pushed aside by my fear for Shawn.

I step between them, facing Shawn. “I’m afraid I did already promise Trey.” I take Shawn’s arm and walk him toward his truck. I need to get him away from Trey, and I don’t want him to have to stand there, rejected, watching Trey and me leave together.

I realize my mistake when we reach his truck and he gives me a long, drawn out hug. In my ear, he says, “You know you’d have more fun with me than with that guy.” He kisses my cheek.

Trey revs his engine across the parking lot.

“Get in.” I shove him toward his truck.

I walk back to Trey and get in my car. Since he’s already on the motorcycle, I assume I’m following him, so I wait for Shawn to leave then start my car. Trey peels out and I follow him, but it’s impossible to keep up. I’m not opposed to going a little over the speed limit, but the speed he’s pushing isn’t possible on these roads in my car. Every time I lose him, I catch up to him waiting for me on the side of the road. I don’t know what he’s trying to prove, but this is absurd.

We arrive and park. He comes over to my car with his helmet in his hand, and I glare at him as he opens my car door for me. He throws his helmet into my seat and shuts the door.

“Are you happy?” I hope he hears the sarcasm.

“Yep.”

He knows what I mean. He makes no attempt to hide the victory in his eyes.

“So you’re okay with being a troglodyte?”

He laughs. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“No. Very fitting, actually.” My mood is already being altered by the effect we have on one another. My hostility turns to flirtation right before my eyes. It takes my conscious mind a few minutes to catch up and realize I’m not actually mad any more.

He laughs again. “I missed you.”

We sit at our table and I look at the menu. He just looks at me. I try to ignore him.

“How’s your leg?” I ask him into my menu.

“Fine. Just like I said.”

I lower my menu to look at him. “For some reason I don’t trust you. You have no sense of self-preservation. What was up with the driving, anyway?”

The server comes with water. Trey orders a scotch.

“So now you don’t like my driving?”

“It’s not that I don’t like your driving. It’s just when you’re leading another car, you should try to keep it to a speed their vehicle can handle.”

“I knew you’d catch up. I can’t go slow on that thing.”

“You didn’t need to go slow. But how about a speed that showed a little responsibility for your health?”

He leans forward. “You know my health is relative.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“Sure it is. I have nothing to lose.”

“You have a lot to lose. What if you lost an arm? Would it grow back?”

He ponders that a moment. “I’m not worried. It would never happen anyway, not with my driving ability.” He tilts his chin in the air and rubs his knuckles along his lips.

He did look like a professional stunt driver, but I’ll never admit that to him, especially not now when he looks so smug. His machismo doesn’t need any encouragement. “How did you learn how to drive like that?” I poke an ice cube, trying to make the question appear nonchalant.

His scotch appears in front of him. He takes a long drink. “Easy. When you don’t have the fear of death in your mind, you’re a lot more willing to try things. Push limits. Do the extreme. And then you get good. Everyone could drive like that, but most people don’t ever try.”

“Because they’re afraid to die.”

“Exactly. It’s a limitation. On living.” His eyes have a glint they’ve never had before.

For some reason I think he’d be like this, immortality or not. “Were you like this before you knew…?”

“To a degree.” He drains the scotch and scans the room for our server.

“If you have another one, I’m going to take advantage of you.” I rest my chin on my fist and watch his face, waiting for him to respond.

He meets my eyes with a look that returns full-on seduction so powerful I can practically feel his hands all over my body. If it’s just in play, I wouldn’t have this body tingle that could bring me to the floor. He has me so charged I’m afraid to touch something metal.

Our food arrives, and our server asks if we need anything else. He orders a water.

“You don’t need to get me drunk to take advantage of me.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” As if I could forget it.

Since a neighborhood pub is not a good place to lose my sanity or my clothes, I decide to change the subject. “When can we do the beach again?”

He groans. “I need time to recuperate. It kind of kicks my ass, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“So we can do it again?”

“Is there something else you’d like to learn?”

“Not necessarily.”

“You just want to do it for the experience itself.”

“Yes. Is that silly?”

“No, not at all.” His eyes focus past me and move around the room as if he’s trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he gives up and goes back to eating.

“What are you thinking?” He’s not getting off that easy.

“Nothing really. I’m just…surprised. By all of this. Who the hell knew. I—” He stares at me intensely for a few moments.

“I, what? You didn’t finish. Please finish.” I wish our brains could be linked right now.

“I…would have never believed all of this, if someone had told me all of this was going to happen. Yet here it is, happening. I… I don’t know.”

I get the impression he’s editing himself. Like he’s saying what he feels, just not
exactly
what he feels. Either the thoughts are in there and he can’t find the words to explain, or he’s got them on lockdown. I find myself reaching across the table for him. I want him to trust me. He takes my hand and turns it over to kiss my palm where the mark still dyes my skin. The contact has the strength of an electric jolt—we’re the charged particles and his lips are the ground. His grip on my hand tightens as if he’s preparing to jerk me across the table into his lap. When he raises his eyes to me I can see the familiar look. He feels it too.

“We should get dessert,” he says.

“Good idea.” Maybe it will calm us down.

We each order a dessert, and I realize something that might benefit me later. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. I don’t have my gift certificate with me.”

He holds up his finger, reaches into his back pocket, and drops the gift certificate on the table between us. “Wouldn’t be fulfilling your wish without it.”

Part of me is sad to see it go. Without it, I won’t have an excuse to go out to dinner with him again. “Can we do this again?”

“No. This is it, so you better enjoy it.”

“I guess I’ll just have to save your life again then.”

“I’m counting on it. I plan on driving into a tree on the way home.”

“So let’s see. You’re jealous, reckless,
and
a smartass. Unless I’m forgetting something?” I put my forearms on the table and lean toward him.

He focuses on my mouth, licks the middle of his bottom lip, and looks back up to my eyes. “You forgot vengeful.”

“Oh yes, how could I forget vengeful? It’s the whole reason for your existence.” I laugh and lean back against my seat.

“Should we move on to you? Let’s see—”

Our server appears with the bill. Trey hands it straight back with the gift certificate, drops a tip on the table and stands. “There’s a tree out there with my name on it.”

Outside, the temperature has dropped several degrees, and the wet mist that developed while we were inside curls my hair. I feel his jacket go around my shoulders and I hold it closed, savoring the smell of him. I unlock my car, and he retrieves his helmet. I pass him his jacket but he puts up his hand to refuse it.

“You’re going to freeze in this air. Take it.” I push it against his chest and let go. He catches it without effort.

He mounts his bike and blasts ahead of me, the tires slipping on the wet pavement.

“Please be careful,” I say to him, although I know he can’t hear me. He drives slowly enough for me to keep up until we reach a familiar road, then he shoots away from me, his headlight bobbing under the powerful engine. As he disappears around the corner, his tires slip out from under him but he corrects it and speeds away. I swallow a lump of worry and take my time getting home. I picked the wrong guy to hang out with if I can’t handle a little anxiety now and then.