Parker's Passion (6 page)

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Authors: Sabrina York

BOOK: Parker's Passion
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“Emily?”
Holt scrubbed his face with a palm.


Still in bed?” Bella muttered.

“Is she?”
Kaitlin knew she wasn’t, knew Emily was not in this house. And hadn’t been for some time.

Why, oh why hadn’t s
he sensed it sooner?

Because she’d been distracted that’s why. She’d been too focused on herself. Heat crawled up her neck. A prickle of dread
blossomed as Bella stomped upstairs to check on Emily. She returned, subdued. “Emily’s not there. And her bed hasn’t been slept in.”

“When is that last time anyone
saw her?” Holt asked.

Bella tapped her lip.
“Last night.”

Jamie nodded.
“She came back from Darby’s with us.”

“And no one saw her leave after that?”
Kaitlin wandered to the slider and stared out at the ocean. It was calm, deep blue. The sunlight skipped on the waves.

“Shit.” Holt raked his hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“Oh, God.” Jamie went pale.

Kaitlin drew in a deep breath as she focused on Emily, dear Emily
…and peace descended. “She’s fine.” She had no idea where the words, the certainty had come from. But she knew. Knew there was no reason to worry. Every eye snapped to her.

God, she hated that. When people stared.

“Are you…sure?” Tara asked.

“I’m sure.” In fact—

The back door opened and Emily slipped in, making herself small, as though she might go unnoticed.

She did not.

She looked disheveled. Her hair, which was always perfectly coiffed was decidedly…
uncoiffed
. Her makeup was slightly smeared… and her aura was all swirly. Kaitlin tipped her head in an attempt to read the colors.

Something had happened.

Something big.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bella bellowed
. “I went to your room this morning and your bed hadn’t been slept in.”

“I told you she was safe,” Kaitlin murmured.

“Damn it, Emily,” Bella’s voice rose into a wail. “We’ve been worried sick.”

Emily
nibbled her lip. “I’m sorry. Ash took me out for a ride on his Jet Ski last night—”

“Last night?” Tara
chirped. She glanced meaningfully at the clock on the wall.

Bella’s nose
wrinkled. “Ash?” She shot a look at Holt, who bristled.

“And the motor conked out.”

Holt snarled. A little bit. “The…motor conked out?”

“We-we had to spend the night on the island.” A blush
flooded her cheeks.

All hell broke loose.

Drew wandered in on the scene, and both he and Holt went into Neanderthal mode, bellowing at Emily and barking questions.

Oh dear. Poor Emily. She was nearly as sensitive as Kaitlin.
They had no idea what they were doing to her, battering her with these hostile waves. This interrogation—about something so intimate—must be mortifying. Her colors, which had been so clear and sparkling when she’d come in, were now cloudy. Kaitlin set her hand on Emily’s back and stroked.

The questioning continued with Drew and Holt and everyone joining in.

Emily’s tension rose to an unbearable level as they all peppered questions at her until she finally snapped and ran up the stairs to her room. And slammed the door.

Kaitlin winced. Emily never slammed anything.

“Well you’ve done it now.” Bella glared at Drew, who had done most of the yelling.

“What?”
He waved his hand manically. “She went out with some strange guy. Spent the night with some strange guy! Emily!”

Emily. Who had always been as timid with men as Kaitlin. And for good reason.

“You upset her,” Kaitlin said softly.

Drew
’s expression fell. “I’m sorry Kaitlin. I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

His shoulders slumped. “Should I go talk to her?”

“No!” A
chorus. All the women. In tandem.

“Make her breakfast,” Bella said, patting him on the shoulder. “That will make her feel better.”

“Breakfast?”


French toast.”

“Pancakes,” Jamie countered.

“And don’t forget the bacon.”

“Do you think she would like that?”
Drew asked Kaitlin.

Bella nodded
solemnly. “Yeah. She would.”

 

 

Chapter Six

 

Jamie and Bella followed Kaitlin up to Emily’s room—which was annoying. She needed a friend right now, one who understood better than anyone what had really happened. Not overzealous friends who wanted to
barrage her with more questions.

As it was, Bella and Jamie only made things worse. It took a while for Kaitlin to get them to shoo and by the time she did, Emily was crying in
earnest.

It broke Kaitlin’s heart.

Emily was the gentlest soul she knew. Whatever had happened to her, she needed healing, support. Her colors were tangled in a way Kaitlin couldn’t interpret. But there was something different about her. Something had changed.

A vision filled her mind. A cabin. Darkened but by a crackling fire. A man and a woman. Entangled. A—

Good gravy.
Kaitlin froze. Heat walked up the back of her neck. Emily…and Ash. 

And yes, it was as Kaitlin had suspected. Emily had, indeed, spent the night with Ash Bristol. Given herself to him.

For someone like Emily, who had been as scarred as Kaitlin by an incident long in the past—someone who had deliberately and determinedly avoided men—this was monumental.

She folded her friend into a hug. “Oh, Em. Are you going to be okay?” she murmured into her hair.

“I think so.”
But she wasn’t. Her aura took on a murky gray hue. “I’m not sure what happens now. I kind of got the sense he was withdrawing. You know, when we came back. He didn’t want to talk about it or hang out together or anything.”

A skirl of trepidation washed through Kaitlin. If Ash had used Emily, just for a one night stand, it would devastate her.
Especially after everything she’d been through. “Men can be that way,” she said calmingly, as though she knew. “Do you really like him?”

“Yes.”

“Then we need to talk to him. To see where he stands.” It would be better for Emily if she knew, for certain, where Ash stood. Otherwise she would make herself sick fretting over it. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Now?”

Kaitlin nodded. “Now.” There was no sense in letting her worry fester.

When they came downstairs the others lunged forward—perhaps to pepper Emily again. Kaitlin shot them all a warning look. She wrapped her arm around Emily’s waist and led her out the door.

No one followed.

Thank God for small favors.

 

They said nothing on the short walk to Ash’s house. What was there to say
? Kaitlin focused on calming Emily, sending her healing energy, urging her to be brave. This was one of the defining moments in her life—and there weren’t many. How she handled this could change the course of her life journey.

Kaitlin’s steps faltered when she saw Ash lounging in a lawn chair by his dock drinking beer. It was early. Far too early for drinking. And then her breath caught when she saw who he was with.

Oh, Parker, certainly—a trill of excitement at that—and Devlin…but Richie too.

Richie ogled her as they approached. Sent her a snarky smirk. Her fingers curled into fists.

Devlin said something and Parker’s head snapped up. He stared at her with eyes wide. She shook her head, an unspoken warning, and glanced at Ash.

Emily lifted a hand. “Hey Ash.”

“Her?” Richie hissed. “Is she the one?”

Kaitlin winced as she felt pain spearing Emily. She felt it, tasted the
chagrin that he had told his friends about their night together. Kaitlin shot Ash a glower. How dare he?
How dare he?
She nodded to Emily, encouraging her to be bold. To ask what needed to be asked.

“Ash, could we…talk?”

“Sure.
What do you want to talk about?” He set down his beer and stood.

“I think you know.”

“Over here?” To his credit, Ash guided Emily away from his leering friends, where they could speak privately.

Kaitlin tried to focus on Emily, to keep her surrounded by a protective light. At the same time, dueling energies battered her. S
omething gentle and sweet from Parker—which she really wanted to focus on. And something nasty and bitter from Richie.

He was thinking about fucking her.

Her blood pressure rose.

Thinking about tossing her on the ground and forcing his cock into her—

God.

Heat scorched her, and not a pleasant kind.

She whirled on him and sent him a blistering glare.

He smirked.

She allowed her rage to rise—which she rarely did. Her gift was not to be used for revenge or power, but she couldn’t help herself. His thoughts were filthy and violent and disturbing. She never wanted him to touch her, talk to her or think of her again.

So she did the only thing she knew how to do. The only thing she could do to protect herself from his
malevolence.

She went on the attack.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” she snapped.

He threw back his head and laughed. “You liked it,” he smirked.

She’d known such an anemic rebuke would wash over him like water off a duck’s back, but she’d thought to try reason before she brought out the big guns. This was the way he wanted to play it? Fine. She sucked in a deep breath and searched his soul, dug deeper. Flinched. It was a foul and wretched place, his soul.

“What would your
mother
say if she knew what you did?”

Richie froze.
Paled. “Wh-what?”

“Would she be proud of you, Richie?”

“What are you—do you know my…m-mother?”

“Or your sister? What would she say?”

He began to shake. Took a swig of his beer, but kept his eyes locked on her. “Jesus…”

“Do not—ever—touch me again. If you so much as
think
about it, I will take you out. Do you understand?”

“I have no idea what she’s talking about. Do you know what she’s talking about?” Richie
snarled at his friends. Devlin looked away, but Parker leveled Richie with a cold frown.

“I do. I was there last night
, remember ass wipe?”

“Last night?” Devlin
’s head jerked back. “What happened last night?”

Parker glowere
d. A muscle bunched in his cheek. “And I promise you this, Richie, if you try some shit like that again,
she
won’t have to take you out. I will.”

“Jesus God.” Richie snarled and focused his attention on the trees. “Not this shit again.” He turned to complain to Devlin, “He’s been on me like a terrier about it.”

“About. What?” Devlin’s fingers curled into fists.

“I was fucking drunk, okay. Jesus, woman. I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t sorry. Kaitlin knew it. They all did. Parker bristled, but Kaitlin sent him a speaking glance. She didn’t need him to defend her. She might be small, and she might be slightly fey, but she could defend herself. She knew how to wound.

“Drunk or not, if you touch me again, you’re going to lose something you value.” She stared at him, letting the message sink in. She didn’t specify what he might be losing, because it was not necessary. Rather, she let her certitude suffuse her words. Let her psychic power off the leash.

Like a thundercloud, her energy swept toward him, slammed into him, engulfed him. She let her fury out. Let it rain on him.

Shame curled around him, twined with displeasure
and mortification. He gasped for breath. His face went white. His beer wobbled.

“Leave me alone,” she repeated
in a low, hard voice, underscoring the spiritual message she’d sent. 

His head bobbed. Lips flapped. S
he doubted he’d learned his lesson, but she was certain he would avoid her like the plague in future.

Being a little crazy had its advantages.

Shaking with reaction, she whipped around and refocused on Emily and Ash. And—

Oh dear.

Emily’s expression—usually open and bright—was shuttered. Her face paled and her and her body shook. Her fingers were curled and her spine straight. The colors swirling around her—sorrow, pain, betrayal—were horrifying. She said something to Ash and turned back for the house, without even waiting for Kaitlin.

Oh. Oh dear.

Her gaze shot to Ash. And she knew.

It had been a one-night stand. He’d used
Emily and tossed her aside.

She had no fury for him, this poor sad creature who had just broken her friend’s heart. Because he’d thrown away the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Without a glance at Parker, she followed Emily back to the house. Emily would need her.

Parker had needed her this morning, and she’d given him what he sought. She’d done it with a whole heart and didn’t regret it in the slightest.

But deep in her soul, torment reigned. How on earth could she want to
be
with a man who chose friends like this?

 

Parker watched her go, torn between regret and a swelling pride. It was amazing the way she stood up to Richie, the way she’d taken him down a peg. He’d never seen such brazen courage in such a tiny package. She was like a warrior princess, there with her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing fire. Her hair flowing over her shoulders and teased by the breeze. He hadn’t understood her references to his mother and sister, but whatever it had meant, it had hit Richie where he lived. He’d never seen anyone or anything have that effect on the jerk. In fact, he limped around the house for the rest of the weekend like a whipped dog.

Kinda fun to watch.

As satisfying as it had been to watch her
spank
Richie, he wished the turd hadn’t been there when she came by. Wished no one had.

He hadn’t seen her coming, hadn’t realized she was there until Devlin had muttered something about a hot chick. He’d
looked up. Seen her. And been pole axed.

Not that she’d been on his mind, filling it with hopes and dreams about what could be with a woman like her…but she had.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Her face, her curves, her smile. Her touch.

Something about her
touched him where it was dark and deep. And lit the shadows.

He longed to see her again.

But he didn’t.

Even though he wandered on the beach all afternoon
on Saturday and the better part of Sunday, he didn’t see her again. Not until he boarded the ferry to go home. She was there, with her friends, in the corner. She was surrounded by them.

Whenever he glanced at her or tried to catch her eye, one of the men in her group would glower at him.

It probably didn’t help that he was sitting with Richie and Ash. If they knew what had happened at the bar on Friday night, or what had happened between them on Saturday…he was lucky all they did was glare.

He couldn’t take it. Sitting there, not looking at her. Knowing
whatever it had been
was probably over—especially after what had happened between Ash and her friend. So he went out on the deck and stood at the back of the boat and peered down into the frothing wake and thought about her. The wind was cold for summer. It buffeted him. He didn’t care. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker.

“Parker.”

Her voice was soft, but still, a punch to the gut.

He whirled around. “Kaitlin…”

She smiled.
Oh, thank God,
she smiled.

He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t form words. She was so beautiful, her hair a
tousled tangle in the wind, her cheeks pink. Her eyes bright. Lovely. An angel.

She leaned on the rail by his side and
stared out at where they’d been. “Oh!” she cried, pointing up into the sky.

It was hard, following her gaze. Hard ripping his focus from her face. But he did. An eagle soared overhead, wings wide, calling to the wind.

“Beautiful.” A whisper. All he could force out.

“Isn’t it?” She sighed. “I love living here.”

“I do too. Um, have you always lived here?” Yeah. Small talk. He could probably do small talk. Plus, he really wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about her.

She shook her head. “We lived in Los Angeles when I was a child. Well…” she snorted a laugh. “Not Los Angeles. Encino. Like, the Valley?”

He tried to bite back a smile at her Val Girl accent and then didn’t bother. “Did you like living there?”

“I did. The sunshine, the
vibe. The bustle of the place. But my mother hated it. So we moved here.”

“Is it
just you and your mom?”

She nodded.
“My aunt joined us when I was twelve.” Her smile dimmed. “She just passed away.”

“I’m sorry.”

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