But in the end, it had all worked out for the best. Mikaela was no match for Fate. She was out of their lives forever. Lacie was especially nice to him, and lavished attention on Shelly. Shelly adored Lacie. And Lacie would be a better mother than Mikaela had ever been. Soon she would realize that they were meant to be together, and they would finally be a real family.
Lacie would be a better wife than Mikaela, too. She would never have to stoop to tricks to have him in her bed. Already she was pleasing him beyond his wildest dreams, providing him the haven he so desperately needed. And soon she would willingly welcome him into her body and scream his name in orgasmic pleasure.
He just needed to be patient for a little while longer, capturing these stolen, intimate moments when he could until they could enjoy them together.
* * *
“T
he Endless Mountains,” Ian said, pulling up a map and pointing near the Pennsylvania-New York border. “Sullivan County, to be more specific.” It had taken a lot longer to narrow down the source of the text sent to Corinne’s number than he had hoped, but he had done it.
“Shit. Are you sure?”
“Positive. Can’t get an exact location, but that’s where the signal originated from.”
“That’s right in Kane’s backyard.” Unlike the others, Kane and his wife Rebecca chose to spend most of their time at the family compound high up in the mountains, and only ventured down into the valley of Pine Ridge for special occasions and brief family visits.
“Yeah, he’s on it. He’s got the whole area mapped out, knows every hunting cabin within a hundred square miles. He’s going to do some checking, see if there’s been any unusual activity.”
Shane nodded. They were closing in, he could feel it. The familiar hum resounded through his gut, preparing him for action. Soon he would have Lacie back where she belonged, and Craig Davidson would learn what it meant to beg for death.
“Something else came up, too,” Jake said, his face looking especially somber. “I got a call back on the bat phone today from Commissioner Gordon.” Shane raised his eyebrows at the reference to the direct, secure line used only for official – or “unofficial” - business. “The Commissioner was very careful about what he said, but he hinted at a couple of things.”
“What kind of things?” Kieran asked, curious. He was always up for a mission, anytime, anyplace.
“Things that might be well suited to our particular area of expertise,” Jake said slowly.
“Extraction? Recovery?”
Jake nodded. “A very specific recovery, as a matter of fact. One that involves a local boy who went missing about three years back.”
They all looked toward Jake. “Brian McCain?”
Jake’s eyes glistened.
“Jesus. Lacie was right, wasn’t she?”
“Maybe,” Jake said carefully. “Apparently there’ve been a few new developments – thanks to what Ian was able to find - but not enough to sanction official action.”
“What’s your gut telling you, Jake?” They always deferred to Jake’s instincts when considering which missions to accept. They all had them, but Jake’s were flawless. He hadn’t been wrong yet.
Jake paused for a moment, then blew out a breath. “It’s legit. God knows what we’re going to find, though. Three years is a fuck of a long time to be in hostile territory.” He looked pointedly at Shane. “Your call, man. How do you want to play this?”
Shane considered carefully before answering. Until he had Lacie safely back in his arms, he wouldn’t be worth a shit, and he needed his brothers in on this. But if he could give her her brother back, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
“Lacie’s my first priority,” he said. “Once I know she’s safe, I’m going for her brother.”
Jake nodded knowingly. “Thought you’d say that. Go on, then. Take Kier and get your ass up to Kane’s tonight. Pick up Mick on the way. The rest of us will handle the prep on this end and have everything ready to go when you get back.”
“Something you’re not telling me, Jake?” Shane said. Jake had slipped in the suggestion to pick up Michael casually enough, but Shane sensed it hadn’t been an off-handed thought. Jake met his younger brother’s eyes. Kane might have been the alpha among them, but Jake was a close second. It was an effort to hold his gaze, but this was Shane’s woman they were talking about.
Jake reached out, placing one hand on Shane’s shoulder. “Just a precaution, little brother. We don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with here, but we already know she sustained some injuries the night of the storm. I’d feel better knowing Mick was there with you.”
Shane nodded, appreciating Jake’s candor, even if he did sense there was more to it than that. This couldn’t be easy for him. The situation was too reminiscent of one Jake’s wife had been in a few years ago. Shane remembered what it had been like when they went after Taryn, the shape she’d been in by the time they got to her. She lost the son she’d been carrying, but if Michael hadn’t been there, they would have lost her, too.
Everything in Shane stilled at that moment as he felt the blood drain away in a rush, leaving him weak. What if Lacie was pregnant? They hadn’t used protection. He’d released in her several times. It was possible. Hell, it was more than possible. Jake got Taryn pregnant in one night. Ian, Mick, and Kane got their wives with child right off the bat as well, in no more than a week. The only reason Sean and Nicki didn’t have a kid right away was because Nicki had been on birth control when they’d first hooked up.
His eyes met Jake’s head on. He didn’t need his psychic sensors to tell him Jake was thinking the same thing.
Fuck
.
“Y
ou need to eat, Lacie.” Craig held the spoon up to her lips, trying to coax a bit of soup into her. It had been days since she’d had anything solid, surviving on little more than juice and broth. Even that had been an effort; in those few hours when she was awake, she said she felt weak and dizzy; her appetite was non-existent.
“I can’t.”
Maybe he would need to start cutting back on the meds. But every time he did, she started talking about wanting to go home. She wasn’t ready yet. She was still recovering. And he wasn’t willing to let her go.
“You want to get better, don’t you?”
“I’m trying,” she whispered. “I want to go home.”
Damn it
. He hated seeing her like this. Each day she seemed a little weaker than the day before. She was supposed to be getting better under his care, not worse. How else was she going to see how good he was for her?
“Come on, Lace. Just a few more.” Dutifully she opened her mouth and allowed him to feed her. She had barely any fight left in her. The fever, while low-grade, was still tenaciously hanging on, sapping her strength. Combined with her injuries and the potent pain killers he was pumping into her, and her inability to eat, it was taking everything out of her.
He’d wanted her compliant, but not like this.
“No more,” she murmured after he’d gotten a few more spoonfuls in. “Please.” She pushed feebly at his arm, and he was alarmed at how weak she was.
“You did good,” he lied encouragingly, wiping gently around her mouth. “Want to go out on the porch for a bit?”
Her eyes brightened a little. “Yes, please. Maybe the fresh air will help.”
“I’m sure it will,” he said. “It’s raining lightly, though. That okay with you?”
She nodded, her eyes half-closed. She liked the rain, said she liked the way it made everything smell so fresh and clean.
“Alright, baby. Wait there till I take this stuff out to the kitchen, then we’ll go outside.”
When she didn’t answer, he turned to look at her and saw that her eyes were closed. He exhaled heavily. This was turning out to be much more difficult than he’d thought. He wasn’t giving up, though. He had waited too long for this chance to prove his love.
* * *
L
acie let herself relax into the pillows while she waited for Craig to return, trying to keep from going under again, but she was just so damn tired. She hated this feeling of helplessness. Surely she should be showing some signs of improvement by now. How long had she been here? Three days? Five? Longer? Days and nights ran into one another; she spent so much time sleeping that everything became a blur.
Her aches and pains had lessened considerably, but she suspected that had a lot to do with the pain killers Craig was giving her. That, in addition to whatever bug she’d happened to pick up, was keeping her down and out. She was as weak as a newborn kitten and shaky, with frequent bouts of dizziness and general wool-headedness. Even when she was awake, it was hard to focus. The days, dreams, nightmares, and reality were melding together, overlapping and interweaving, and it was becoming harder and harder to distinguish what was real and what was not.
She liked the dreams the best. In them, she was with Shane, making love for hours on end in some remote location, just the two of them. He would hold her in his arms, whisper words of love and endearment against her skin, tell her how they were meant for each other and that they would always be together.
Then the dreams would morph into something inherently darker. It wasn’t Shane’s voice whispering to her anymore, it was someone else’s. Shane’s gentle lover’s touch became harder, rougher, almost punishing. She would try to scream, but no sound came out. Her arms and legs were useless; no matter how much she struggled she could not move, held down by an impossibly heavy weight draped over her, battering her already-broken body over and over again as she fought for breath until she was suffocating beneath him.
Just when she thought she couldn’t bear any more, the pain would lift, the heavy weight would ease, and she could breathe again. Then the darkness would return – the blessed, lovely darkness – and shush quietly in her ear, stroke her hair, tell her that everything would be alright. She was safe, she was loved, and all she had to do was let go...
Eventually she’d swim up through the darkness into the light again, and her world was recognizable once more.
In her brief periods of lucidity, Craig was kind, caring, and attentive. He massaged her arms and legs. Made her tea and soup. Read to her when she couldn’t focus on the words herself. Carried her out to the porch for fresh air and to watch the sunset each evening.
But the darkness was always there, lurking just out of sight, hiding in the shadows, waiting for her to succumb and start the vicious cycle once again. It was exhausting.
Craig was taking good care of her, but all she really wanted was to go home. Craig would hear nothing of it. She was safer here, he insisted, away from all the ‘negative influences’. It was clear by now that Craig was quite well aware of the fact that Corinne didn’t like him hanging around Lacie so much, and had alluded to that fact more than once. And they both knew what he thought about Shane’s influence. She’d learned not to mention Shane’s name; it only agitated Craig and made things more difficult.
No, her best option was to bide her time and try to get better. The only way she would be leaving this place was by her own power or on a stretcher. Unfortunately, with each passing day the stretcher was looking like the likelier of the two. Something inside Craig had snapped, and she needed to get him some help. He refused to listen to reason, and actually believed that he was protecting her by keeping her here.
“Craig?” she called out feebly, wondering what was taking so long. He was probably making her tea. He often did after a meal, saying that it would help settle her stomach and relax her. It did. But right now, the last thing she wanted to do was fall asleep again. She still had chills from her last series of dark dreams. Unable to recall them clearly – as if her mind was shielding her, knowing it was beyond her ability to cope - she dreaded the idea of falling prey to them again.
A cold shiver ran up and down her spine, punctuating that last thought. She couldn’t dwell on those. It was best to focus on the here and now. If she could manage to stay awake and absorb a little more “reality”, she’d be better equipped to fight her unseen demons.
Taking deep, cleansing breaths – her ribs were feeling much improved – Lacie attempted to shed the residual fear of her dreams and concentrate on her body. Her head still ached, but it was a dull, manageable throb. Ribs, better. Hand, wrist, ankle – sore if flexed – but otherwise manageable. It was too bad her limbs weren’t listening to her. It seemed to take several minutes of concentration before she could get them to move the way she wanted them to.
With much effort, Lacie struggled to sit up. A wave of lightheadedness conspired with her protesting and underused muscles, but she clenched her teeth and breathed through it.
There
, she thought proudly.
That wasn’t so bad
.
Once she had silently celebrated her small triumph, gravity and her new position provided her with her next challenge: the increasingly urgent need to use the bathroom.
She called out again. Ah, hell, she thought when Craig still didn’t answer. She could do this. It wasn’t that big of a room. Surely she was capable of making it those few steps to the bathroom by herself. Craig had been helping her whenever she needed to get from point A to point B, but as long as she took it slow, kept one hand on something, it was totally do-able.
Feeling encouraged by the fact that she’d eaten twice today and managed to hold everything down (even if it was only a couple of spoonfuls of broth), she forced her legs over the sides of the bed, giving herself a moment to let the blood flow back into her feet. She winced a little at the pain in her ankle, but was glad for it. It felt like she had been numb for so long, and any little sensation – even the pins and needles firing up and down her calves, was welcome.
Her brief sense of accomplishment shattered quickly a few moments later when she attempted to stand. Apparently sitting up and standing up were vastly different. The room spun all around her; her stomach lurched sickeningly as she felt herself falling.