Rogue Alliance (46 page)

             
“That’s probably a good idea,
”
he chuckled.

             
Shyla
made it out the front door and
,
as soon as the fresh, crisp air hit her nostrils
, she felt instantly better;
still woozy, but better.

             
The parking lot was nearly empty with only three cars including her own. There was a light dusting of snow covering the landscape. One streetlight farther down the street was dimly lit. Otherwise it was dark and quiet out.

             
She wondered if she’d made sure to lock her car and crossed the parking lot to check. It was farthest away, on the edge of the small lot, by the garbage and recycling bins. With a flick of her wrist she pulled on the handle and confirmed it was locked.

             
“You gotta lot of fucking nerve coming back to my town.”

             
Shyla spun on her heel. Between a wave of dizziness and the pavement being covered in snow and ice, she nearly toppled over. Instinct kicked in and she quickly regained her footing, facing the man with the
dark, edgy voice. It
was
one of the me
n from the bar. He had a baseball cap over his balding head and a grungy denim coat with fleece lining zipped over his red shirt. But his menacing, bold stare was still the same.

             
“I
didn’t know this was your town,” Shyla retorted,
“
I guess I missed the memo.”

             
“You always were a smart-ass little brat. Your dad and I were best friends all through high school. We grew up together. We hung out a lot less once he married your mom, and then when you came along even less, but I worked with him at the plant and we’d hang out at the bar when he could get out of that damn house. He’d tell me about your sassing him.”

             
The warmth that had been in her gut from the burn of the drink suddenly dissipated. This was
the man who’d thrown the brick; s
he knew it without a doubt.

             
“
You got
a good memory, and a good arm. Takes a real brave man to throw a brick through a window and drive off.”

             
Her reflexes were slow and her mind was muddled. When he rushed her, plowing into her gut with his fist, she doubled over and nearly vomited. When he came at her again, she was ready
,
despite
the intoxication. Fighting off
the wooziness, she locked in on years of training and bolted upright, landing a solid upper-cut on his chin. He fell back with a thud. Blood was pumping through her veins and the world was tilting. She squeezed her eyes shut tight then opened them wide before she rushed him, hoping to keep him on the defensive.

             
She straddled his thick body and pressed her forearm against his throat. Suddenly
,
she was lifted up and set to the side. All she saw was a flash of color.  Someone had intervened and was now snatching her attacker off the ground and slamming him up against her car.

             
Brennan had her assailant’s jacket in a vice grip and was holding him up off the ground. The man kicked and flailed about, banging his heels against her car, to no avail.

For a moment, Shyla feared Brennan would rip out his throat as he’d done to the man in his studio apartment above Victor’s shop. Relief flooded her system when he head-butted him with one solid crack instead. The man instantly lost consciousness. Brennan released his grip and let him slide to the snowy pavement.

             
Before she could speak or regain her composure, he turned and plucked her off her feet. He carried her to his car, opened the door and plopped her into the front seat, slamming the door and walking around the car in swift, purposeful movements.

             
“I have a cab coming,” she said stupidly
,
still reeling from the large intake of alcohol and the sudden change of events. Everything had happened
so quickly.

             
“Are you okay?” Brennan asked. His tone didn’t convey worry. He sounded like a different human being, his voice raspy with suppressed rage. She imagined that he was figh
ting more than just anger, reminding herself that there
was an instinct to kill built within him.

             
She hit the button on the passenger door, rolling the electronic window down. Pulling in a few deep breaths, she nodded.

             
“I’m okay,” she turned and looked at him,
“I don’t want to go home yet. Take me for a drive.”

             
Brennan
didn’t answer but his grip tightened on the steering wheel and he took the exit out of town.

             
Twenty minutes later, they were at the lower end of Shasta Lake. The moon was high and shone brightly over the new blanket of snow. They were both silent, reverent, as they stared out at the shimmering, calm water.

             
“You were watching me,” she whispered.

             
He shot her a quick glance then looked away.

             
“I’ve been watching you. You know that. It’s a good thing too, or else you’d probably be dead right now.”

             
She ignored his clipped tone, but was all too aware that his anger was simmering hotter and hotter. What the hell was he so mad about? She was the one who had just endured a physical attack from one of her father’s old drinking buddies.

             
“Oh,
that’s an exaggeration,” she said,
“
I was managing
. He caught me off guard
but I had it under control
.”

             
“Yeah, sure and you’re not drunk
either, right?”

             
“Oh, no,”
Shyla laughed, “
I’m drunk all right. But I’m tired of this conversation.”
             
Irritable and woozy, she opened the door and marched out of the car towards a gravel path that cut through the woods. In seconds
, Brennan
was
back
beside her.

             
“Where do you think you’re going?”

             
He spun her around and she nearly toppled over. He grabbed her by the front of her shirt, pulling her closer, in a hold resembling the one he’d just had with her attacker.

She didn’t like to be grabbed like that. With as much force as she could muster she slapped him across the face.

             
Her breath was coming in short, quick gasps. She was mad at the world and especially at men. Why did they always have to push her over the edge? She stared at him. His eyes were unreadable. When she tried to turn away her grabbed her again and spun her around.

             
“Just leave me alone,”
she wailed as she started slapping him over and over again on his chest and arms, each one stinging her hands. It felt crazy and horrible and sensational all at the same time.

             
His arms crushed her in a vice grip, pinning her arms down to her sides. She flailed and kicked to no avail as he stomped down toward the lake. One moment she was in a fit of
rage, t
he next she was completely submerged under the icy waters of the lake.

She came up spitting mad and gasping for air
. He hauled her up by the shirt.

             
“Settle down or you’re going under again,” he warned.

             
She kicked out in fury and down under the frigid waters she went. By the third dunk
,
she was sobere
d quite thoroughly and realized
it was useless to fight him. He was too strong for her and determined to win.

             
“Fine!
” she screamed out as she ca
me up for air the third time, “F
ine, I’ll stop. Just don’t dunk me again.”

             
Her body was shaking violently as her body tried to fight hypothermia. The fight was completely drowned out of her and she was suddenly fatigued and weary.

             
Brennan
hauled her out of the lake and to the car. Numb inside and out, she let him strip of
f her pants and top and wrap
her in a thick blanket which he pulled from the trunk of the car. Without a word
,
he put her in the front seat and shut the door. Her teeth where still chattering when he slipped into the driver’s side and turned the heat to full blast. They sat there in silence as the heat filled the car.

             
As her muscles relaxed from the warmth, she settled into the blanket and gave him a trepid sideways glance. He was staring out his side window so she saw only his profile. His jaw was clenching and she imagined he was still struggling with his temper. Then
,
she noticed that his clothes were soaking wet. Of course, there was no way that he would have managed to stay dry through that fiasco. An image of the ridiculous scene they’d just displayed came to her mind. She laughed.

             
He turned and gave her an incredulous look.

             
“You think this is funny?”

             
Suddenly serious, she kept her voice calm but hard.

             
“No, I don’t think anything about t
his whole fucking mess is funny,” a
s she spoke
,
everyt
hing that had happened in the last few months came to a head,
“I don’t want to have bricks thrown through my window. I don’t like be attacked by crazy old men with a vendetta to hash out. I don’t want to be here in goddamn Redding, California where I’m still just the girl who stabbed her rapist father to death. I don’t want to be chasing my tail in circles trying to catch your ruthless, amoral boss, which I can’t even do lately because I’m trying to find a thirteen year old girl who I care about but hurt her anyway. I don’t want to be burying my fears and sorrows in a bottle anymore
,
but i
t’s all I know how to do right now
. But more than anything, I just want the nightmares to stop and this hole that’s in the center of my chest to go away.”

             
Her chest was heaving with pent up emotion. Brennan’s eyes flickered back and forth, searching her eyes. In one swift motion, he pulled her to him and closed his mouth over hers.

             
She’d been desperate for that kiss ever since she’d had that brief taste of him before. She may not have admitted it to herself before, but now
,
as she opened her mouth to invite him in, she knew it. There was no denying it.

             
As she swept her tongue
over his, he hesitated,
as if surprised by her reaction. Sensing he might pull away
,
she reached up and clutched his hair in her fingers, pulling him closer. An animalistic growl rumbled in his chest. The deep chill that had soaked through to her core was now replaced with a burning inferno of heat. Through the mist of her passion, it occurred to her that Brennan could kill her so quickly, so easily. With her mind and emotions mixed up and betraying her as she struggled with her recent failures, she felt desperate and weak. Those were emotions that she abhorred. The thought trickled into her mind and she flirted with it. She pressed her throat to his lips and quivered not just from passion but with the idea of what it would be like if he killed her right then and there. The nightmares would end. The history would cease to exist. She’d never had thoughts like that before. But suddenly the option was more than tempting.

FIFTY

             
His arms were filled with her. His mind was consumed by her. The sweet taste of her made him heady and irrational. But underlying that passion, that need to satiate his desire, was another, more ruthless instinct.

             
Though Brennan had taken his daily supplement and had
been successful at curbing his unnatural and ingrained yearning for weeks, the smell of her just under his nostrils, so close and so warm, triggered that hated thirst. It made him sick to his stomach to think of how badly he wanted to give in to both desires. Which was the strongest, he wasn’t sure.

             
As if sensing his weakness, she tipped her long neck back and exposed it to him, daring him. With her fingers in his hair, she pulled him closer until his lips touched the smoothness of her skin. The pulse was quick and strong under his lips. His body was straining. His muscles were taught and he sensed that the smallest provocation would send him over the edge. Not for the first time, he didn’t trust himself.