Fighting Fate: Book 2 of the Warrior Chronicles (5 page)

And she really didn’t want to be here. Meeting the woman who gave birth to her just wasn’t on the agenda, today or any other day for Taryn.

Jesse saw the tension riding her in the tightening of her fingers into fists, the rigidity of her posture and in the measured depth of her breath. She wanted to run. He wanted her next to him more than he wanted his next breath. Jesse held his hand out to her, palm up and waited for her to take it. She hesitated only a second before placing her palm in his. He enveloped her hand, warming it, lending her some of his strength when he knew her own was waning.

They walked hand in hand, side by side, into what she probably equated with the Lion’s Den or a Pit of Vipers.

“What’s so funny?” Taryn asked when he laughed without mirth.

Jesse looked into her expressive eyes, now more blue than green. “Nothing.” He said, wishing that were true. Then he surprised himself and told her exactly what was in his heart.

“I’m sorry about what happened this morning and I’ll get to the bottom of it. I won’t let anyone hurt you from now on. Not as long as I’m alive, anyway.” He squeezed her hand and stopped their rapid progress toward the rabbit hole. “I’m sorry about the way it happened, but I’m really glad you’re here.”

Without waiting for her permission, or second guessing himself and his very selfish motives, Jesse bent and kissed her. Refusing to let go of her hand, he placed his other palm on her cheek. Her lips parted softly for him. She tasted like oranges and tea. He wanted so much more and he wanted it now, but neither circumstance nor sanity would allow him to indulge in his own wants and needs.

Jesse’s gaze moved from her softly parted lips to her eyes and back again. “I
will
protect you.” He vowed, more to himself than to her. Then, he reluctantly led her to the library where his family and hers were waiting.

…

Taryn wanted to push away. She wanted to scream at him:
I protect myself. I don’t need your assistance.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t true. Not as of this morning. She also wanted to pull him back to her, kiss him for all he was worth, then have him stripped, bathed and brought to her tent.

Problem one, this wasn’t her tent.

Problem two, she didn’t know where Jesse’s bedroom was or if this was even his house. Odds were it wasn’t unless he lived with his mother, and something told her definitively that was not the case.

Problem three, she’d probably run into his extended family before she could strip him and that would just be, well…awkward.

Deciding that three hurdles were plenty to curtail her lascivious desires for the time being, Taryn decided to think pleasant thoughts and muddle through the next five minutes, certain that would be all it would take to meet, greet and say ‘thanks for giving me life’. She’d applied a similar strategy when she muddled through every museum fundraiser Lauren MacBain dragged her to as part of her contract. Those encounters, like this one should turn out to be, were perfectly polite, pro-forma exercises in pretense and pleasing the patrons. They were perfectly painless in small doses, and forgotten within moments of a bath and a beer. Nothing to be afraid of.

Oh, how wrong she turned out to be.

…

She’d been introduced, displayed like an exotic animal at the zoo, and been the recipient of not-so-subtle scrutiny by various members of the Mohr-Bennett family. Taryn felt out of place, a unique experience for her, and that set her on edge almost as much as having the one person she wanted most to comfort her standing across the library from her.

What a birthday
.

She sat quietly in Jesse’s mother’s library, a beautiful room done in shades of yellow, hunter green and royal blue. It was tastefully decorated with museum quality watercolors in delicate frames, and filled with books that didn’t seem to carry dust like the ones on her shelves. Taryn should have been comfortable. Instead she began to itch, but she’d be damned if she’d scratch or squirm.

She sat across from Reed Mohr, on a rounded chair that felt claustrophobic instead of comforting, sipping tea laced with Irish whiskey, not scotch which she would have preferred and silently wondered how this tiny redheaded doll of a woman, who didn’t look a day over forty, could possibly have given birth to the Amazon of Shorewood.

Taryn placed the impossibly delicate Irish Belleek tea cup she’d been sipping from onto the equally delicate matching saucer, pushing the set away from her so she wouldn’t inadvertently knock it over as she stood. One didn’t drink from Belleek, one sipped. Taryn was painfully aware of, and for once grateful for, her impressive size. Sometimes being what Mary Campbell generously called ‘statuesque’ was a good thing. Today it was definitely a good thing, it gave them the impression of power, when Taryn felt anything but powerful on the inside.

She was proud of herself though. Her oversized hands didn’t shake or rattle the translucent china as she set it down and her knees didn’t shake as she stood, drawing herself up to her full five foot eleven and a half inches. Taryn moved around the sea-glass and bamboo table, seemingly out of place in such an elegant room. Every room she’d passed through in this megalith of a house was an odd mixture of sustainable and what looked to be handmade furnishings and fine art. She stood in front of the woman laying claim to her parenthood. And Jesse’s.

Therein lies the rub, as the Bard would say.

Taryn took a deep breath, held out her hand and said with only the slightest hitch in her voice, an octave deeper than usual, “Thank you for your hospitality. It was nice to meet you-

Taryn paused, her guarded gaze flicking to the odd collection of strangers in the library she was supposed to be related to.

“- and your family. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
Or not.
“I’ll be going now.” She moved to leave the room, unsure of exactly how she was going to effectuate her escape, but needing to get out of this house. She had her cell phone. She’d go outside and call Merlin for a ride.

Jesse intercepted her, blocking her way out of the library. Taryn stared into his eyes willing lightning bolts to issue from the volcanic core of her and sear his flesh with her righteous fury. He stood firm, immune to her inner torment.

One word echoed through Taryn’s soul as reason fled, a right roundhouse punch to his chiseled jaw taking its place:
Traitor.

CHAPTER NINE

Jesse stopped her punch from connecting, one handedly and with little effort. Taryn’s anger fueled her aggression but she telegraphed her intent long before her hand fisted. He was going to have to teach her some basic self defense, and soon, if the events of the morning were any indication of what tomorrow held for her. The thought made him angry with himself, mostly for inadvertently putting Taryn in danger with his pursuit.

Whether she read his anger and mistakenly believed it was aimed at her, or she was reacting out of sheer frustration, Jesse didn’t know, but either way he’d poked the hornets’ nest. She yanked at her hand. He held fast. When she tried again he pulled her to him, wrapping her arm behind her, never letting go of her fist. Taryn fell into him harder than he intended and let out what he could only describe as a growl. It was low and fierce and he prayed his mother hadn’t heard it.

He lowered his head and spoke into her ear, hoping like hell she didn’t decide to bite him. “Be still. It’s not safe out there. I got you into this, and for that I’m sorry. You have no idea the lengths some people will go through to get at Jordon’s fortune.”

She tried to pull away. Jesse held her tight, lifting her chin so she could read the truth of her situation in his eyes. “They tried to kidnap you this morning, Taryn. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be chained, beaten, or worse by now. And maybe, just maybe, we’d get you back battered and broken once the ransom was paid, and maybe we’d be given a body to bury.” Jesse swallowed hard. His next words were no more than a harsh whisper. “I may never have found your body at all.”

The fire left her eyes and the fight went out of her as she seemed to melt into his chest. Jesse let her arm go, both of his arms pulling her tightly against him, one hand gently stroking her hair. Her breathing was labored as if she’d just run a mile.

“I can’t stay here. I can’t.” Taryn said through what seemed to be painful breaths.

Jesse made eye contact with every person in the room, silently telling them to back off. Mary Campbell, who walked silently in with Merlin, wasn’t spared his don’t-try-to-take-her-from-me narrow eyed glance. She stopped where she was, then she pulled Merlin from the library. Jesse couldn’t fathom why, but he wasn’t about to argue with that piece of good fortune. Jordon was still holding Reed down with a hand on her shoulder. Jesse’s gaze softened when it met hers so full of pain and hope it hurt his heart just to look.

Satisfied that his message was received, Jesse turned his attention to Taryn. “You won’t have to.”

Taryn pushed away from him. Reluctantly he let her go. She stepped back, searching his face for something he couldn’t fathom. Her eyes darted back and forth focusing on each of his. He’d seen that look before, usually on wild animals.

“What do you mean?”

Jesse looked at her, letting his face soften and his eyes warm, willing her to trust him for the twentieth or so time today. If the situation weren’t so damn tense, he would have laughed.

“You’re coming home with me.” He said, brooking no argument from her or any member of his security obsessed family.

Jesse grabbed Taryn’s hand, turning away from the library. They were almost to the threshold when Reed’s voice stopped them. “Taryn, please wait.”

Taryn stiffened, her back going ram-rod straight, shoulders back as if to demonstrate her power. Little did she know that her mother, tiny though she may be, was the most dangerous person in the room, and that was saying something.

Jesse turned first. Taryn followed. Reed was standing now, waiting for some sign, it seemed to Jesse, to move forward. In a move that shocked everyone, Taryn let go of Jesse’s hand and crossed the room to Reed, stopping about a foot away. She still held herself stiffly, without any noticeable anger in her, just a wary curiosity.

Jesse saw the tears in Reed’s eyes and hoped like hell she didn’t let them spill. Seeing his mother or his sister cry shredded his guts. Thankfully he’d only had to experience that particular pain a few times in his twenty-nine years on the planet, and that was too much.

Reed held out an ornate, hand-painted box about eight and a half inches wide by eleven inches long, and about four inches deep. On top of the box was an envelope of pale yellow with brightly colored butterflies gracing one corner. It was Reed’s personal stationery, hand inscribed with ink from the special italic fountain pen Reed used to sign her Christmas cards every year. The finely precise lettering read:
For My Daughter: Happy Birthday Darling Girl
.

When Taryn’s hands met Reed’s, Reed said “Happy birthday, Taryn. This is for when you’re ready.”

Reed’s hands lingered on the box a moment longer than was necessary to ensure Taryn didn’t drop it. She gave Taryn a small smile, which Taryn acknowledged with a nod. Taryn turned away, took two steps and then stopped. Her back to Reed, she asked, “Why would anyone want to kidnap me? No matter how rich he is, Jordon’s not related to me.”

Reed started to answer and Jordon’s calm voice cut her off. “
If
what happened this morning was because of Jesse’s inadvertent carelessness tracking you down,
and
those men know of your connection to Reed, then Jesse’s right. You are a target because anyone who knows me knows there is nothing I won’t do to keep my family safe.”

Taryn turned around. “I’m not your family.” The words weren’t harsh or accusatory, in fact they sounded confused to Jesse.

Jordon flashed Taryn what Jesse had come to learn was his lethal intent smile. He’d seen Jordon use it before and it rarely boded well for the recipient. “You will be.”

Taryn seemed to let that go. She shouldn’t, Jesse thought. When Jordon used that tone with that smile the things he said became facts. Since Taryn didn’t know Jordon she had no reason for trepidation at his words. Jesse felt it for her, hoping like hell this wasn’t the first time his stepfather was wrong.

“My cable company keeps kidnap insurance on me.” She shrugged. “I sometimes go into dangerous areas for my documentaries. Why would anyone expect you, who, no offense, I only just met and may not stick around long enough to get to know, to pay a ransom for me?”

“Because, my dear, I am my uncle William’s only heir, and even though he gives most of his liquid wealth to Reed’s foundation, he’s still considered the second wealthiest man in the United States.” Jordon’s tone turned to steel. “And, I protect what’s mine. My family most of all.”

Jesse could tell the exact second the name William Bennett registered in Taryn’s brain by the blood draining from her face. He caught her before she hit the floor. Curiously, Taryn never let go of the box Reed gave her as she fell.

CHAPTER TEN

Shannon O’Shay toweled the sweat from his face, before throwing another round of punches, elbow strikes and kicks to the heavy bag Jesse was holding for him. They were both bare-chested, barefoot, wearing only cut off sweat pants and the grimaces that came with physical exertion.

They were in the house they shared for the better part of a decade, the house he and Jesse started building the day after Jordon gave Jesse five acres abutting Potter’s Woods for his eighteenth birthday. Shay poured a lot sweat and love into this house, and he loved every minute he’d spent helping create what had become his home.

Shay was proud of it and comfortable in it, but no room appealed to him more than the training room they were now in with its own dojo. It was octagonal shaped and looked like a turret from the outside. Clerestory windows let in light from just below the fifteen foot high ceiling. The three walls overlooking the pond had windows that ran the full height of the walls. It wasn’t a mansion or even a large country estate, but it was beautiful and he and everyone else at Potter’s Woods had had a hand in crafting it.