Whisper Falls (30 page)

Lucky felt out of breath now. He’d been sure Duke’s blood was gonna flow any minute and he was gonna lose his best friend. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. “So I picked up the heaviest thing I could find—this big, antique beer stein sitting on a windowsill—and I brought it down on Hammer’s head as hard as I could.”

He stopped then, overwhelmed by the memories, by his own words. He’d never told anyone this before. He’d never said it out loud.

“Lucky?” she said softly. But her voice seemed to come from somewhere far away—it sounded muted, distant. At some point, she’d drawn her feet down from his lap and now leaned forward to touch his knee. “Are you okay? What happened after you hit Hammer?”

“He died,” Lucky said, his own voice sounding small to him now, as well. “He hit the floor, and a big pool of blood started growing around his head. I killed him.”

. . . soothe him; save him; love him; tell him you love him and will be his.

Charlotte Brontë,
Jane Eyre

Fifteen

C
hrist. He felt his own words like a punch in the gut. They seemed to echo inside him now.
I killed him. I killed him. I killed him.

Beside him, Tessa’s voice shook. “Oh God. What then?”

He sought out her gaze in the dark, took in the glint in her eye. Felt as he had for years after that night, as if he wasn’t sure he deserved to be alive, living a normal life. Damn, that hadn’t hit him quite so hard in a while—maybe he’d even thought he was over it. And now his eyes felt wet, and a tear rolled down his cheek. “We ran. We got on our bikes and rode like hell, like the devil himself was chasing us. And he probably was—for a while anyway.”

Lucky stopped once more, closed his eyes, willed away the damn tears. “We rode east, day and night. And we dumped our colors—our vests with the club’s emblems—in a trash can somewhere in Nevada. And we lived in fear for a long time, because a gang’s reach can be long and far. But that was the end of it.” He paused, drew in a deep breath, and tried to quit feeling everything so much.

“So now you know,” he finished. “I killed somebody. And I ran away from it and never looked back. Except in my head.”

“It was self-defense,” she pointed out. “And in defense of your friend, too.”

“Yeah, but . . .” He looked down, not quite able to face her right now. “I took somebody’s life. And it wasn’t mine to take. And yeah, the guy was a scumbag. But I was a scumbag, too, at the time, and . . . it’s possible for people to change. So
he
could have changed, too—and . . . I took away that chance. I mean, everybody counts, don’t they?”

When she reached for his hand, he looked back up at her. God, she was beautiful. Even in the pale light of a crescent moon, he could see that, drink it in. At the moment, it seemed . . . too nice a thing for him to have, to look at. He didn’t deserve something that good. “Listen to me,” she said. “You didn’t have a choice.”

“But I had a lot of choices
before
that. And if I hadn’t made all the wrong ones, I never would have ended up there.” He shook his head, the shame oozing like a freshly reopened wound inside him. “When I think of all the shit I did in those days—from stealing cars to fights with rival gangs to what happened with Hammer . . . damn, babe. The world can be pretty fucking ugly sometimes. And I just hate that I added more. And . . . if you don’t want to be around me anymore, I would understand.”

She stayed quiet for a minute, and despite her comforting words, he began to fear—to know—that he’d been right; she didn’t want him anymore. And he couldn’t blame her. Sometimes it was easy to forget just what a bad person he’d been for a while, what hideous things he’d done—but when forced to put it out there, to lay it on the table, it was a lot. He’d been the kind of man he wouldn’t want anyone he cared for to be around. How could she feel any different?

Finally, she began to speak and he braced himself. “Maybe I should be afraid right now. Maybe I’m crazy to still be sitting here with you, holding your hand. Because, yeah, you just told me some pretty terrible stuff. But . . . it’s hard for me to imagine the man I know doing those things. So . . . I have to believe you’re not that guy anymore. I have to believe you’re a changed man.”

He swallowed past the tightness in his throat. “I am, Tessa—I swear it. I swear it on everything I have.”

“I believe you,” she whispered.

And he was amazed at her. Amazed at her faith. Amazed because right now, more than ever in his life, he felt like his nickname made sense: He was one hell of a lucky guy if a woman like this was willing to stand beside him after what he’d just dropped on her. “Why?” he asked, a little dumbfounded.

“Because I can see it in your eyes.”

And Lucky just said, “Come here to me, babe—please,” and opened his arms to her. A few seconds later she was sitting on his lap, wrapped in his embrace, and he was burying his face in the soft spot where her neck curved into her shoulder, and drinking in the feminine scent of her, and knowing once again that he didn’t deserve her, but he was so, so thankful she wasn’t running away from him.

And he realized in that moment, Tessa didn’t do that—she didn’t run. She had a health condition she couldn’t run from; she just toughed it out like a bruiser. And she could have run from him on the very first day they’d met or lots of times after that when he knew he’d made her so nervous. But she’d stood her ground—that’s who she was. And it was probably one more reason he’d fallen for her.

After that, he told her the rest. How he and Duke had ended up in this area on sheer instinct since they both had family in the region. And Duke had liked Crestview enough to stay—while Lucky had decided to move on, not only because he didn’t want to face his family but because he was afraid he’d endanger them. They’d also been scared enough then—paranoid maybe, but who could say?—that they’d decided it was safer to just split up. And they’d both had different ideas of what they wanted anyway—Duke had sought a quieter existence someplace small, while Lucky had felt it would be easier to blend into the woodwork of a city.

“What do you want
now
?” she asked him softly. And God, it felt good just to hold her. There for a few minutes he’d been sure he’d never get to again.

He thought her question over and said, “Now that I’m older, and hopefully wiser, I’m starting to think being in a small town’s not so bad after all. And getting back with my family . . . that was hard, but the truth is, it’s made me feel more . . .
human
or something . . . than I have in a real long time.”

“I’m glad,” she whispered.

“But Tessa, I gotta tell ya . . . leaving the gang the way we did was dangerous—that’s why we went so far. And by coming home—by coming in to Johnny’s life, and yours . . . well, I wouldn’t have done it if I thought there was still any real risk, but it’s only fair to tell you—the last contact I had with the Assassins, they were trying to hurt me, bad.” He thought of Vicki—dead now.

“I’m sure it’s long in the past,” Tessa assured him, kissing his cheek, and he kissed her sweet, soft mouth in return.

“And one more thing,” he said, his gut pinching up all over again. “If Mike ever found out the things I’ve done . . . I’d be in big trouble with the law.”

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I would never say anything.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her, still a little astounded. “And so . . . after everything I’ve just told you, you’re really not afraid of me now? Even a little?”

She leaned her forehead over against his. “Want to know a secret? When we first met, I
was
kind of scared.”

He let a soft grin unfurl, their faces still touching. “That’s not a secret, babe.”

“But now I know what a good man you are. So no, Lucky—I’m not afraid of you.”

T
essa held Lucky’s hand as they walked quietly through the woods near Whisper Falls. Nothing much was different since he’d told her about the Devil’s Assassins—except that now she knew. And it truly didn’t matter. His smile was still just as sexy. His love for his new son was just as endearing. And his concern and care for her remained just as powerful.

Sitting on her deck listening to his story had felt almost surreal—she didn’t know people who went through things like that; she’d never been near such danger. But what had stayed with her the most was his honesty, and also his remorse. The shame had practically dripped from him—and even as she respected him for feeling so strongly about it, it also broke her heart a little. Lucky’s life had taken some unfortunate turns, and that didn’t excuse him—but she could understand, and she could also forgive.

And maybe she
was
insane—as she’d told him, maybe she
should
be running from him. But she felt his love so strongly now, covering her as warmly as any blanket—and didn’t that count for a lot?

As promised, she’d kept it all to herself. Maybe it would have been nice to use Rachel and Amy as sounding boards, but on the other hand, even if she could have, they’d both think she was nuts for staying with him. She couldn’t expect anyone who didn’t know Lucky the way she did now to understand it. They didn’t know about the boy he’d been. They knew even less of the man he’d become.

And so as they strolled through the forest, now filled with warm shades of green—from the leaves above to moss-covered tree roots below—it was almost as if he’d never told her. And yet, everything was different, better, because there were no more questions. She no longer had to fear the mysterious and wonder where Lucky had been. Now she knew and she was making peace with it so that, hopefully, both of them could move on to something better.

As they reached the top of Whisper Falls, where the surface of the water was smooth as moving glass, Lucky said, “Let’s try out that legend, see if it’s true.”

“About whispering across the falls? How? You’d have to be on the other side.”

He just shrugged. “Water’s shallow here, and . . .” He looked upstream a little. “I can jump from rock to rock up there. See?” He pointed to where a few large rocks littered the creek bed.

But she was skeptical. “What if you fall in and go over the edge?”

He just laughed. “If I fall in, I’ll be lying in water about six inches deep. Don’t worry, hot stuff—I don’t risk my life that easy anymore.” And off he went—releasing her hand, he hiked up the creek and skipped across, as effortlessly as a kid playing hopscotch. Then he jogged back down the opposite bank until he stood across the water from her.

“All right, babe,” he called. “You ready to whisper something and see if can hear it?”

“Okay,” she yelled back. But she knew it wasn’t going to work. As she’d told him before, most people had concluded that it was either an old wives’ tale or that you both had to be standing in precisely the right spot.

And since she was so sure he wouldn’t hear her anyway, she shielded her mouth and said what she’d been thinking but just hadn’t found the right time to tell him yet. Softly, she whispered, “I love you, too, Lucky.”

And then she lost her breath, because she saw the look in his eyes—he appeared positively stunned. And shockingly vulnerable.

He’d heard her.

And she understood more than ever before that this big, strong man with the tattoos running up and down his arms perhaps hadn’t felt loved by very many people before. It made her sorry she’d waited so long to say it. But glad she’d said it now. Her heart missed a beat just peering across the stream at him. And she fell more in love with him than she already was.

The first time Lucky drew his eyes down to the water, she thought it looked as if he was wondering if maybe he could actually walk across it. But then he took off, running back to the shallow area with the rocks, again skipping comfortably back to her side. And she began to move toward him until they were both running just to reach each other a second or two sooner.

They fell into each other’s arms and she basked in his warmth, his strength, the hardness of his body against hers. He ran his hands through her hair and spoke low in her ear. “I don’t know the right way to say this stuff, Tessa, but . . . you’re the best thing that’s happened to me. I’ve never felt like this before, I’ve never . . . been happy like this.”

She pulled back to smile up at him. “For a guy who doesn’t know how to say this stuff, you’re doing pretty damn good.”

“Yeah?” he rasped.

“Oh
yeah,” she promised him, and then his mouth came down on hers and she forgot all about talking and words altogether. She closed her eyes and let Lucky’s kiss consume her from head to toe.

Then she let him draw them both to their knees on the ground.

Just before he laid her down on a carpet of ivy.

Unlike the last time they’d been like this outside, neither of them went slow. She shoved his T-shirt up, then helped him yank it off over his head just before reaching for his belt buckle. She worked at that as he unbuttoned the summery blouse she wore, just before unsnapping the center clasp on her lacy white bra. She undid his jeans as he undid hers, and once their clothes were off, he shoved his T-shirt beneath her back to keep her from lying directly on the ground—but it hardly mattered since they were soon rolling around there in each other’s arms.

As soon as Lucky was inside her, he pressed her to the forest floor, and she loved the frame the foliage made around his handsome face, loved the powerful rush of the waterfall nearby. It echoed the excitement coursing through her veins.

And when she later got on top, straddling him, she felt wild, like some kind of untamed animal. She knew leaves stuck to her sweaty skin and twigs adorned her hair. She wiped at a smudge of dirt on Lucky’s face, only to make it worse, and realized they were both filthy—and then she leaned back her head and laughed.

“What’s so funny, babe?” he asked, his grin wicked as sin.

“This
is grabbing life,” she told him gleefully. “You make me feel like I’m experiencing every wild, wonderful thing there is!”

“There’s more where that came from, hot stuff,” he informed her darkly.

She raised her eyebrows “Oh?”

And he answered only by thrusting firmly upward inside her.

“Ohhh
,” she said.

When he did it again, she braced her dirty palms on his chest and he reached up to mold and massage her breasts. Moving on him, letting her body take over, Tessa knew a freedom she’d never known before. She wasn’t sure if it had come from telling Lucky she loved him, or if it was about Lucky being so honest with her, or if it was because she felt as if they were one more wild part of nature right now. Or maybe it was all of that together, but she rocked her body on his with utter abandon, without a care in the world, losing her inhibitions as she never had.

And as the orgasm built inside her . . . oh God, the intensity of the pleasure, the passion she felt for the man beneath her, it all filled her with pure, unadulterated joy. And when the climax hit, it rushed over her with all the power of a waterfall, crashing through her being with a maddening force that nearly buried her. Her body jolted with a pleasure that made her cry out, again, again, until finally she slumped to Lucky’s chest in pure exhaustion.