Blackout (30 page)

He groans, grinding me with the spear of my indulgence. My eyes finally crack open to watch him and the muscles tightening on his abdomen with each scintillating push against my wall.

It feels like nothing else. He slides slowly in and out of me, bringing me close to nirvana then easing me back down from the precipice.

“Tease,” I moan, my fingers digging into his muscle-corded back.

“I may be slow…” He nuzzles my neck and pushes deep into me. “But I’m good.”

“Yes you are.” I wrap my legs around his back to drive him home. Nothing feels like this. Like him. “You feel so good.”

“So do you.” His rhythm increases until sweat drips from both our foreheads and drizzles into the pit of my bellybutton. I laugh but suddenly a guttural “Ah” escapes my lips. He kisses them and steals my breath away.

Overwhelmed, I impatiently clutch onto his ass, begging for release, desperate for him to surge deeper. Our breaths quicken. I ache for him, the buildup winding me up. I want it harder, faster, rougher, now.

I scream from the radiating heat convulsing inside me. His whole body shudders and goes slack from the sudden relief, his hot seed spurting inward and melting me onto the sheets.

We fold into a heap on the bed. Dare pulls me close to him and whispers, “I won’t let another man touch you, and I can’t stand for anything to happen to you, Teal.”

During the night, I keep waking. Nightmares plague my sleep, some of Graham ripped apart, some where Dare is searching, hunting, and others rimmed with blood.

The house alarm blares, and I bolt upright. Dare is no longer sleeping next to me, and the clock bleeds 4:20. I switch on the light, searching frantically around me.

His gun is gone.

A little disoriented from lack of sleep, I stumble from my bed and slip on my robe. My hands tremble as I reach for the knob. A groan comes from the living room. I fumble for the hall lights, but they switch on, blinding me. The alarm blares.

Daddy stands over Dare, who’s only in his shorts and lies prone on the floor. Dare rubs his head. Blood dribbles down the nape of his neck.

My world tilts on its axis. Pain shoots through the top of my head. I was clubbed. I remember now. Before I black out, I suck in deep breaths of oxygen that fill my lungs and quell the sickening pitch into the abyss. I straighten myself, watching my world come into focus.

Daddy looks at me then Dare.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Daddy spews.

“What did you do to him?” My voice trembles, not only because Daddy is standing over Dare’s body, but Dare grunts from being struck in the head.

Dare lies crumpled on the walnut-stained hardwood floors. Blood moistens the back of his hair.

“Dare?” I kneel beside him. He squints his eyes in pain, his hand reaching for the back of his skull.

I thought Daddy wasn’t coming home until Wednesday. I cinch my robe tightly around me, hiding my naked body underneath. The blush warms my face. It doesn’t take much to put together Dare and I are sleeping together.

Daddy’s fists are clenched tight. “I found him like this. What is he doing in my house? Answer me right now.”

“Are you okay?” I smooth back Dare’s hair. The blood sticks to my fingers. “Why are you home?” I ask Daddy.

“I told you I was coming home, and this is my house. Or have you forgotten?”

“Shut off the alarm,” Dare mumbles, lifting himself up on one elbow. “I’m fine.”

It’s still blaring. I run to it and disengage it before the police come. The phone rings, probably the police.

“Get the phone,” I yell at Daddy while I drop again to the hardwood floors next to Dare.

He crawls to his knees and frantically searches around him. “Shit. Where’s my gun?”

Dad answers the phone, anger spilling over in his tone. “Everything’s fine. Goodnight, Deputy.” He marches back to us.

“You brought a gun into my home?” Daddy reaches down for Dare, but Dare shoves Daddy’s hand away.

Dare holds his head like it’s killing him. “It’s the best way to protect Teal.” He climbs to his feet while I stand motionless. How could this get any worse? Dare and I are both practically naked, and he’s been hurt.

Dare pokes Daddy in the chest. “Where’s your wife? What did you do to her?”

“Lynn’s in Paris,” Daddy says, disgust riddles his expression at the bitter taste of her name on his tongue. “Somewhere.”

Dare stands practically in Daddy’s face. Dare’s maybe an inch or two taller, but it’s hard to say with all his hair and what little Daddy has left. Dare is solid muscle while Dad is lean.

“Do you have an address?” Dare asks. “How does Teal reach her? Why haven’t you let Teal see her? As far as I know she hasn’t had any contact with her mother since she left.”

“I don’t keep tabs on her, and it’s not my fault she broke all ties with us. I don’t even know exactly where she is in Paris.”

“That’s very convenient.” Dare’s hand searches behind him for me. It snakes around my waist to pull me into him. “Are you all right?”

I nod, the heat of his hand penetrating my hip. “Why were you out here?”

“I heard a noise, came to check on it, and then I was hit on the head.” He glances at the clock. “I’ve been out for a few minutes. Where’s my gun?” He’s staring at my dad. “I want it back.”

“I didn’t take it, nor did I hit you in the head. I found you this way.”

Dare studies him, looking uncertain whether to believe him or not. “I should call my brother and make sure he got home okay.” There’s renewed tension in his voice.

Daddy points to the door. “You need to leave this instant.”

Dare goes to my room. I start to follow him, but Daddy grabs my arm to stop me.

Hurt shines in Daddy’s eyes. “How could you after what he did to you?”

“Dare never touched me ever.” I hurry to my room and find Dare calling Randy.

“He won’t pick up. Something’s not right.”

“It’s early,” I say. “He’s probably in bed.”

“Not for him. He’s supposed to let the dog out before he goes to work. I need to go home.”

“I’ll go with you. You’re in no condition to drive.”

He wipes the blood from the back of his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Please.” I don’t particularly want to be here with Daddy. He’s only going to yell at me, and I don’t need that.

He reads me. “Fine. I can drop you off before I go to work.”

While Dare tugs on jeans, I dress. Daddy said he wouldn’t be home until the middle of the week.

“Where are you going?” Daddy asks as I grab my house keys and my purse.

“With Dare. I’ll be back in a few.”

Daddy blocks my path. “You are not going anywhere with him.”

“I’m eighteen.” I skirt around him and swivel back toward him. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you, but you have to let me make my own decisions.”

“But…” Daddy reaches for me, but I walk out the front door.

I leave with Dare. He drives over the speed limit to his house, and thankfully, no cops pull us over. Though darkness still cradles his house and garage, the first thing I notice is the Shelby is parked outside, and its windshield is shattered.

I slowly get out of the truck but not Dare. He leaps out and runs to the car. The hood is pock-marked with baseball-sized dents, the headlights are smashed, and the passenger-side is battered, like a ram repeatedly butted into it.

Dare tries to reach Randy on his cell again, but a thrashing in the woods alerts us. Randy totters out of the trees.

“Oh no.” Randy’s face falls while assessing the vehicle. “I didn’t have the key to put the car in the garage.”

“When I called, why didn’t you pick up?” Dare asks, anger flaring in his tone.

Randy yawns. “I slept in. I have a dentist appointment this morning, so I don’t go into work until ten.”

“Shiloh,” Dare mutters. He races to the house. The door is wide open.

My heart collapses in my chest, draining the blood from my head.

I run after him. Dare switches on the lights. His place is a wreck, chairs are overturned, the kitchen drawers yanked out and the contents pitched onto the floor, and trash litters his cabin.

Shiloh whimpers and lies in the corner, curled into himself. Squeak is not in her cage.

Dare drops to his knees. “Oh God, Shiloh,” he whispers, stroking the dog’s head.

While he picks up the dog, I search for the squirrel. I lift up chairs and kneel down to look under the bed.

“Squeak,” Dare calls.

The slightest chatter comes from the bed. I tug the blankets back then the pillow. She’s lies flat, trembling. When she sees me, she immediately crawls up my shirt and into my arms, chattering, trying to tell me what she saw.

“She seems okay.” I can tell by the way Shiloh can barely lift his head that he is not.

“Call the vet and tell him to meet me at his clinic,” Dare says to Randy.

“I’ll call him,” Randy says, tugging his phone out of his pocket. “You two should hurry.”

“Put my pillow into that box,” Dare nods toward a cardboard box in the corner stuffed with car and racing magazines.

I dump the contents onto the floor and place the pillow into the box. Dare carefully puts Shiloh into the box. Squeak climbs up onto my shoulder, and we hurry to the truck. Dare sits the box onto my lap, then he speeds to the animal clinic on Roanoke Island. Squeak climbs into Dare’s lap and chatters up a storm.

With the back of his arm, Dare swipes a single tear from his eye. He’s the Dare I remember, the animal rescuer, the sweet patient boy fretting over a broken wing or an otter trapped by fishing lines.

Dare doesn’t slow down until we reach the clinic where a single car is parked. After Dare stops the truck, he and I rush inside, and he puts Shiloh on an examining table and Squeak into an open cage on the shelves. The vet is waiting for us.

“Her abdomen is distended,” Dare says in a low voice. “My house was broken into, and I found her lying in a corner, whimpering.”

The vet examines Shiloh. “My techs didn’t pick up and the other one has the flu, so I need you both to prep for surgery. Shiloh probably has internal bleeding.”

Dare nudges me to wash up in a sink and gathers scrubs for each of us.

My hands shake. I don’t think I can do this. “Dare, you know how I am around blood.” I passed out cutting open the frog drowned in the overpowering formaldehyde.

“You’ll be fine.” He kisses me, and despair crinkles around his eyes. He clutches onto both of my hands. “Please, for Shiloh. The doctor will tell you what to do.”

Dare shows me how to wash up past my elbows, then he dons me in scrubs, gloves, and a mask. I gather this isn’t his first rodeo.

The operating room isn’t like the ones at the hospital. It’s just a stainless steel bench covered by a sterile pad where Shiloh lies already sedated. A drip of glucose is hooked up to the dog, but a bag of blood hangs next to it.

As the vet cuts into the dog’s abdomen, my hands tremble and sweat streams into my eyes. Blood seeps through where the incision was made. I gulp in air, and the doctor glances up at me. Dare rests his hand on mine, and my breathing steadies. I take in several deep breaths and watch the doctor open up Shiloh. I don’t want to let Dare down. The one time we watched the park ranger shoot a wolf ensnared in an illegal trap it almost killed Dare. I had to help him dig a hole and bury the animal while he prayed for its soul.

“Suction,” the doc says.

Dare applies just enough pressure to remove the blood, like he’s done this before. “I’ve worked on the side here as a tech assistant,” he says to me.

The vet searches inside the open cavity of the dog. It brings back memories of dissection in biology. I almost puke but swallow it back down. I look away from the blood.

“Ruptured spleen.” The vet takes my index finger and places it on the organ leaking blood.

My heart thumps against my chest.

Dare gives me a tight smile. “You’re doing good.”

The vet removes a small organ then waits. “The cavity isn’t filling up with blood anymore. We’ll close him and I’ll give him more blood. He’s lost a good deal.”

I exhale slowly. No visions or smells interfered with me. When the doctor completes suturing the dog, I leave the room to find a chair to sit down in. While they finish giving the dog blood, I find Squeak in her cage and let her out. The vending machine contains peanuts, so I buy a pack and feed her. We’re instantly friends.

The vet and Dare walk out of the operating room. The vet’s hand cups Dare’s shoulder. “We’ll leave him here for the next day or two to ensure he’s okay. If there’s any change, I’ll call you.”

Dare nods, his eyes shining from the pain.

He calls the police to report the vandalism and his stolen gun. When he ends the call, he picks up Squeak and steers me to his truck. As he opens the door for me, he says, “You did good in there. I owe you.”

His lips seal mine, and the kiss deepens so that I want to do nothing more than spend the day in his arms, but we have much to do now.

He presses his forehead to mine. “Teal, I would hate to lose Shiloh, but I couldn’t stand to lose you. This man is tracking you, and I don’t know how I’ll protect you. It’s good that your Dad is home.”

“You think he killed my mom though.”

“I don’t know, but he would be a suspect. He isn’t the one stalking you though.”

“Graham is probably dead.” Sobs heave in my chest. “Because of me.”

“It doesn’t look good for him or us.” He squeezes his eyes shut while his hand fondles my cheek. “I couldn’t bear for anything to happen to you.”

We return to his cabin where I help him clean up. He doesn’t mention the car.

Jimmy finally drives up, gets out, and says, “Well, that’s a shame. Hope you have insurance on that honey of a car.”

Dare doesn’t say anything. He lets them dust for prints, but it’s doubtful they’ll find anything.

“No word on Graham?” I ask, worry eating away at me.

The nonchalance in his expression irritates me. “Nope. There’s nothing else I can do here. I called the feds to help us with the search.”

It’s the first positive news I’ve heard. “Thank you.”

“We’ll find him.” Jimmy tips his hat. “Good day, Miss Covington. Tucker.” He gets in his cruiser and drives away.