Circle of Danger (21 page)

 

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
F
OUR

M
arie flinched from his bitter tone.

“I see. You're determined to hear it all. You've already seen it. You know what I was to . . . Theo.” Every word he said cut.

He was right. Theo had set it up for her to see. She'd been so happy to have a new friend. Though Ryker was much older than her, he treated her like she was special and worried about her happiness. He'd made sure The Circle's cook fixed at least one item at each meal that she liked—to fatten her up, as he would tell her.

Theo had found her in Ryker's room during a thunderstorm. She'd explained how the thundering had scared her, and Ryker only comforted her until she calmed. He appeared to understand, but when Theo's latest mistress informed her that Master wanted her to come to his study, she'd been afraid of being punished. He wasn't known for being patient. When she arrived, the study door was closed. She'd been instructed to go inside and wait. As she carefully opened the door, the rhythmic thumping caught her attention before her gaze found the source. Bending at the waist across Theo's desk with his jeans and underwear at his knees, Ryker gripped the far edge as their master thrust from behind. Ryker stared at her as if he'd been waiting for her. Such despair and shame filled his gaze and pulled at his mouth and scars before she could back from the room and ease the door shut.

Looking back, Marie understood Master wanted her to see Ryker being used as she would be soon. But she never understood why.

“Marie. It was a long time ago.”

Adjusting her eyes to the present, she looked up. “Why did he want me to see that?”

“The next morning after the thunderstorm, Theo told me he'd decided to bring you into his bed. The sick son of a bitch believed you were nine, but he didn't care. He hated the thought of anyone getting to you before him. He never once understood the concept of caring for someone without expecting sex in return. I did the only thing I could think of to stop him.“ Ryker sighed. “The last time he'd tried that, I was sixteen and determined to make him stop. So I threatened to cut his cock off if he touched me again, and it had worked for several years. Until you. When he caught you in my room, it didn't matter that I never touched you, that I only treated you as an older brother did a little sister. He perverted it. He wanted to punish me because I had your affection, and he knew I cared for you. There hadn't been anyone to look out for me but him since my parents died. Theo had already destroyed any tender feelings I had for my brother, even when I thought he was dead. “

How sad and horrible to lose his parents and then to be taken into the home of a pedophile, a pervert who taught him to hate his own brother. She wanted to comfort him, but the way he held himself from her, she knew he'd reject her touch. For now, he needed her to listen and do no more.

“We came to an agreement. He could use me, if he promised to wait until you turned thirteen before taking you to his bed. I had hoped to find a way to take over The Circle by then, but he was smarter. He made sure I languished in the Northern Sector for eight years before I could return.”

“You knew I was twelve. After the life I lived with my parents, I could've handled it.”

“But he didn't know. He expected people to be too afraid of him to lie. In the meanwhile, I'd hoped to find a way to save you before the four years were up.”

She thought about lying to him and letting him believe Theo had waited. She couldn't do it. Theo had loved to twist the truth to his advantage. She refused to do the same. “He lied.”

“Damn him! He took you after he had me hauled off?”

“Not exactly. But he took me three years later. Though I was fifteen, he thought I was twelve.”

“I'm sorry. I tried.”

“Ryker, it was probably because of you he waited as long as he did,” she whispered. Moving closer, no longer able to hold back, she placed her hand on his chest and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“Marie—”

“Shh!” She placed a finger on his firm lips. “That was a lifetime ago. Come to bed.” She turned and entered the tent.

R
yker watched Marie slip into the tent. His gaze travelled the horizon over the Gulf, the stars dividing the water from the sky. A slight turn and lightning bugs danced above the bushes inland. Only the sounds of buzzing insects and waves hitting the shore assured him that they were alone. He should rub on more of the mosquito repellent and keep guard.

His hands began to tremble. His fingers blurred. He squeezed them into fists.

With all the horrible memories, one thought always saved his sanity over the years: if he had the opportunity to kill the bastard who abused him and Marie, he would take it. And he had. When he slid the sword into the man's gut and the blood gushed over his hand, a powerful relief engulfed him. The words he whispered into Theo's ear as he heard the man take his last breath were often his mantra leading up to that day.

G
o to hell knowing that Marie is mine.

“Are you coming?” Marie's voice, low and promising, broke him away from his gruesome thoughts. All those years of fearing he would turn out to be like Theo came crashing down on him. No. He couldn't use Marie like that. Shit! He was no better than Theo, using her like he had for months. He ducked into the tent, prepared to apologize for his treatment of her on the island and before.

Naked and on her side, she smiled. Elbow bent, her hand held up her head as she waited for him.

“Here. I'll help you.” Her fingers deftly unbuttoned the shirt. When she started on the snap of his shorts, he stopped her.

“Marie, the drug has nearly worn off. No need to do this.” His cock stretched and hardened as he wanted to lick and bite every square inch of her soft skin. Though he wanted to leave her alone, he ached. She was every good dream he'd ever had in his life.

“Don't you realize it has gone further than taking care of our physical needs? I swam underwater for you. I braved sharks in the water and on land for you. I care about you deeply. Don't you understand I have a huge crush on you?”

All the air left his body. Was she delusional? Had she been sniffing too much insect repellant?

“Don't look so shocked. I believe everyone at Sector knows but you. At least that's what Charlie told me.”

He forced his lungs to inhale. He wanted to tell her he had more than a crush. That he loved her beyond life, but she deserved so much more. “We've been through a lot, especially the last few months. You're under a lot of—”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Arms open, she waited. He covered her mouth, moving his head to rub their lips together as he filled her mouth with his tongue. He thrust hard, alternating between stroking and sucking on hers. He pushed at his shorts until his cock popped free. Her hands wrapped around his length and squeezed.

She leaned her head back and gasped. “Wait. I want . . . I want you in my mouth.”

All his willpower directed toward not coming with those words, he nodded. Kicking off the shorts the rest of the way, he picked her up and flipped her around as he laid back.

“What are you doing?”

“I want you in my mouth too.”

He spread his legs as her breath tickled his cock. Her knees rested next to his shoulders. His hands pressed her buttocks down, making it easier for his mouth to reach the sweetness waiting for him between her legs. His tongue swiped her from clit to anus. The smell of woman and earth had him hard as the poles holding the tent up. He licked, sucked, and ate at her moist center and the hard bead at one end.

His pulsating cock parted her lips. She bobbed her head, taking as much of him as she could. Every time her lips reached the cap, she sucked, smacking her lips as if she tasted sugar. He fought the urge to pump into her mouth and down her throat. When her fingers lifted his balls, rolling and licking them while they were in her hot mouth, tears came to the corners of his eyes as he strained not to come.

He spread her folds wide and drew on the nub while he dipped two fingers into her, coating them as he swirled his tongue over the taut bundle of nerves that swelled some more. Then he rubbed the moist fingers around the nearby tight opening. Her legs began to tremble. She knew what he planned to do next. He sank those fingers into the small, tight, hot hole and pushed in and out quickly, going past the second knuckle.

Her mouth released his balls and they drew up. Panting, she didn't hesitate in filling her mouth with his cock. She humped his face as wave upon wave shook her body.

Before he could stop himself, he rolled over and jabbed his cock down her throat, needing the release only her touch could give him. His fingers continued to work her ass as he ate her sweetness. Small fingers gripped him and jerked as her nails bit into his tender flesh and her body continued to climax.

Her hands wrapped around the base of his length stopped him from choking her. When the waves eased up, he nipped at her clit and the waves began again. Then she scraped her teeth across the sensitive cap. He climaxed, pumping until too weak to do more than move them onto their sides.

She suckled and licked at his cock as he did the same to her clit. With two fingers still deep in her, he finally slid them out after the last tremor eased. Her soft, warm breath tickled his limp cock. He inhaled the sweet scent he would never forget.

Before they dozed off, he moved until her head rested comfortably on his chest and his arms held her tight, their heartbeats slowing until they both fell asleep.

 

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
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IVE

M
arie used the dogwood twig Ryker claimed could be used to brush her teeth. At this point, anything would help. She ran her tongue across her teeth. Wonderful. It did work.

She brushed her hair—he'd found a brush in the bag—and avoided looking at him as he washed up in the salt water, shirtless with his shorts riding low on his hips. Fanning her warm cheeks, she knew the feeling wasn't from the sun topping the bushes and trees to the east. Never in her life had she'd been more embarrassed than when she woke up with her hand on his stiffening penis. By the time they'd untangled their arms and legs from each other, and pulled their clothes on, her face had been so hot, she was certain blisters would bubble up.

Bad enough that she'd enjoyed their oral satisfaction so much she'd become light-headed. A gasp escaped as the image of Ryker's mouth less than an inch from her mons flashed though her mind. Nothing sexier. The man knew what to do. And his dark five o'clock shadow—and even his one eye of amber and other of white—added to his dangerous look.

“Marie!”

She stood, tossing the brush into the bag, and looked at Ryker. Kicking up water, he ran toward her, waving his arms, indicating the dense bushes and trees behind her.

Movement in the water caught her attention. Of all things she could imagine, she hadn't expected Jet Skis in the middle of nowhere. Six of them were speeding toward the shore in their direction. The riders looked as if they had wings. She edged backward. No. Those were M16s strapped to their backs.

“Run! Head into the trees; I'll be right behind you!”

She grabbed the bag and headed for cover.

The further she ran into the bushes, the softer the ground became, and then her feet splashed into water. Praying she wouldn't come across any snakes or other wildlife that would make her scream, she headed toward the trees. As she reached the stand, she heard splashing behind her. The trees were so close to each other and their roots so thick and bunched together, she jumped on top and climbed over one to another until she could turn and see if Ryker had made it.

He wasn't in sight, but she spotted three of the men running toward another stand of trees to her right. Had Ryker lost sight of her and headed into another direction?

“Marie!” Ryker said in a loud whisper.

She jumped and turned, her hand over her racing heart. He stood on roots a few yards away, a gun sticking out of the band of his soaked cargo shorts.

“Where did you get that?”

“It was on the boat. I have only one magazine for it.” He handed it to her. “Keep this with you.”

“What about you?” She looked down at the small Beretta, so similar to the one she'd practiced with over the last few months.

“I'll be fine.” He pulled out a wicked-looking knife. The curved black blade and razor-sharp edge ending at a point were not made for show.

“The boat?”

He nodded, his gaze searching the trees surrounding them.

Someone shouted, “They're not over here!”

“What should we do?” She wanted to grab his hand and run, but by the way he held the knife, it appeared he had a plan.

“Climb.” He pointed his thumb up. “Then stay put until I come to get you.”

Above her, the thick limbs grew in every direction. When she looked back at Ryker, he was gone again. Not wasting any more time, she looped the heavy bag over her shoulders, placed the gun in one of the outside pockets for easy reach, and scrambled up. She'd never had the opportunity to learn how to climb trees as a child, but she quickly figured it out. Twice, she placed her hands on bugs and almost screamed, catching herself with a small squeak.

By the time she reached a branch high enough to feel safe, breathing hard, she pulled out the gun and checked the magazine, full with fifteen rounds. She wedged a shoulder to the trunk to keep her balance. One look down and she quickly jerked her gaze up. Maybe she'd climbed too high. Then she heard gunfire. En masse, birds took to the air, drowning out any chance of her hearing the men.

Oh, please don't let them kill Ryker. He should've kept the gun.

A few more minutes seeped by, and then more gunfire and a scream.

The quietness of the woods surrounded Marie. No birds chirping or the incessant buzzing of insects broke the silence.

Then she heard the crack of a twig. When she looked in the direction of the sound, nothing was there. Then there they were: two men edging in between the trees, their rifles pointed ahead and ready to fire. Would they look up and see her? Would they fire, shooting her out of the trees like a squirrel? She lifted the pistol and aimed. How good had she gotten? Shooting at a paper target was different from a moving, thinking human being.

Realizing she'd been holding her breath, she opened her mouth to take a deep, quiet lungful of air. Then a hand covered her mouth as she was hauled against a broad chest. Before she could scream or raise her gun, her body registered something about the touch and heat. Ryker.

“Shh,” he said close to her ear, barely making a sound.

She nodded. He released her as the men walked by, eyeing their surroundings but never looking up.

Being careful not to shake the limb, she twisted a little to look at him. Sweat covered his pale face. Was he sick?

“Are you okay?” she mouthed.

He swiped his forehead with the upper sleeve of his shirt and then nodded.

Why was he lying? She ran a hand over his chest and down his sides. He flinched from her touch. When she examined her palm to see if the wetness was blood, only dirt and clear moisture coated her hand.

When she glared at him, he rested his head on the tree trunk and stared at the foliage above them. She pinched his thigh.

“Damn it. You're going to make me fall.”

Somehow his face became whiter with a bit of a green cast around his mouth. Then she remembered. He hated heights. She knew why he sat there in the tree, fifteen feet off the ground. Her safety was more important than his fear of heights.

“I'm sorry.”

His gaze met hers. He gave her a lopsided grin.

“Don't move. Stay here.” His lips brushed her ear. Then he was gone again.

If they ever got out of the Everglades alive, she would make certain to never leave Sector again.

For now, she needed to help. But the familiar feeling of helplessness engulfed her. She hated it. Every move she imagined trying would endanger Ryker further. So she sat on the limb, letting her ego have a rest. His words at Sector came back to her. If she stayed at Sector she wouldn't need to learn how to protect herself. Problem was she wanted to protect him too.

Talk about being a hindrance in the field—she was a disaster. Maybe they'd allow her to do some investigative work online when she returned to Sector.

More birds took off in a flutter of wings with new gunfire breaking the unnatural silence.

Marie fisted the gun but moved her finger from the trigger. In her nervousness, she could easily discharge the gun without thinking and alert Mulcahy's men. Stiff from sitting on the limb for so long, she leaned a little to the side, bending and popping her back. Oh, hell. She hoped the cracking sound didn't carry to the ground.

A large grasshopper jumped from one leaf to another, shaking twigs in a nearby bush. Nothing else moved. Even the wind had died down.

She leaned back against the trunk and closed her dry eyes. Tiredness melted her body to the rough wood.

A
bird chirping on a nearby branch woke her up with a jerk. She scrambled to regain her hold, almost dropping the gun. Her heart pounded with the close call. A breeze caressed her arm, the air several degrees cooler. What time was it?

Ryker? While she dozed, was he out there bleeding to death?

Unable to wait any longer, she placed the safety on the gun and stuck it in the bag's side pocket. Taking her time, as quietly as possible, she worked her way down the tree while keeping an eye out for Ryker and any sign of the others.

Once she reached the ground, she headed in the direction she'd heard the gunfire. A few yards later as she edged around a thicker stand of trees, she found a footpath. Following alongside of it—the beaten ground showed regular use—she stayed alert. Twenty minutes later she came to a large sawgrass marsh. Several yards away another stand of trees framed a shack. Weathered board exterior, it looked to be a hundred years old and empty.

She remained still. A creepy feeling warned her to be patient. Then she caught movement at the opposite end of the building. Someone opened a door and walked inside.

Was it strangers willing to help or another threat? Had Ryker found more trouble than he could handle and left her in the tree, believing she would be safer?

She looked at her mosquito-bitten feet. No one in their right mind would walk in a snake-infested marsh with only flip-flops on. She stooped to take a closer look at the sawgrass. Each blade had what looked like little teeth on it. Well, that explained the name. No way could she walk, dressed as she was in shorts and flip-flops.

How could she reach the shack without being seen and getting cut up? The end of the house opposite the door didn't have a window, and the marsh butted up almost to the pilings supporting the shack.

The sky had darkened in the time she studied the only way to get a peek inside. She would have to come from the front between the cypress trees standing guard near the marsh and shack. On the other side of the bulging roots, she spotted another trail. The only way in.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped back into the shadows and waited for the sun to sink a little lower.