Sliver of Silver (Blushing Death) (27 page)

“There shouldn’t be any problem with the insurance. Dahlia had taken out arson coverage so they can’t deny her claim,” Patrick said, reading from my policy.

I wasn’t sure where he’d gotten it but I wasn’t surprised he had it either. Nothing about Patrick surprised me anymore.

“I’m not worried about money, you know that. We need plans to start rebuilding,” Dean said.

“She could live here,” Patrick said, raising his dark glare to Dean.

“Not a good idea,” Dean said with a low grumble in his chest. Not quite a growl but not a nice friendly tone either.

I cleared my throat as I came around the corner. They both stared up at me in surprise.

“We were just discussing living arrangements,” Patrick said with a smile.

“I heard,” I said, noncommittal. They both eyed me as I sat on the opposite end of the sofa.

“Let me know what you want, and I’ll have my guys start as soon as we get the permits,” Dean said with a reassuring smile.

“Clear the land and sell it. I can’t go back there,” I said in a hollow voice, sounding distant and lost, even to me.

“Sure,” Dean said cautiously. “If that’s what you want?”

I nodded then focused on my fingers as I twirled them around each other in my lap.

“We can talk about the rest later,” Patrick said in a hurry as the phone rang.

Alex’s stern voice rang on the other end accompanied by the heavy bass of the club thumping behind her. There was a problem at Damsel. She needed him there. Concern furrowed his brow. He glanced at Dean with a quick dart of his dark intense eyes. Dean nodded. “Very well, Alex, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said and then hung up the phone. He came over to me and stood, waiting, until I tilted my head up to meet his gaze.

Kneeling, he took my face in his hands, pressing his soft, full lips against my mouth in a delicate caress like I would crack if he used any more strength. “Get some rest,” he begged.

I nodded. He didn’t argue with me but he didn’t believe me either.

“You don’t have to stay here,” I said after Patrick left.

“I don’t need to be anywhere,” he offered as he sat back in the couch and got comfortable.

“I don’t need you here,” I snapped. I couldn’t tell him why, but I just needed to be alone. I needed all of them to leave me alone.

“I know that,” he said. “Everyone feels better to know there’s someone here if you need them.”

“Fine,” I snapped. “I’m going upstairs.”

“No problem,” he said, flipping on the television. He didn’t move or follow me as I stalked out of the office and up the stairs.

I thought about all the people I loved and were responsible for as an overwhelming sense of dread settled over me. I couldn’t protect them. They were there for the slaughter, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

I got on the laptop in Patrick’s bedroom. He didn’t know I had the password. I checked my email and set up another email account. I wrote it down on the back of a receipt lying on the nightstand and slipped it into my back pocket.

I stared at the screen, trying to remember what I’d been, the fear that had protected me and kept me safe. I’d let too many people in and gotten too careless. I had to stop this before someone else I loved got put in the ground before their time.

Patrick will never let me go.

As the thought of leaving him settled into my being, hot tears streamed down my cheek and soaked my neck. I loved him more than I thought I could ever love anyone. Somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with Dean, too. I couldn’t say when or how but one day I’d woken up and knew I needed him.

If I wanted to protect them, I couldn’t stay here. If I stayed, I’d lose one of them, or maybe even both. I couldn’t survive that, not after everything else. Something had happened to me; I’d broken inside. I was lost and all of the anchors I’d had to keep me grounded were dead and gone. I needed to remember who I was. I couldn’t be forgiven for all the pain I’d caused. I didn’t deserve it.

About an hour later, Patrick came through the front door and went directly into the office. I waited in his bedroom for him as dawn approached. I could feel it in my being as the darkness thinned from that deep, pitch-black to something shallower, something that wasn’t so daunting. Dawn was less than an hour away as the bleakness of night dissipated like smoke.

Through the window, I watched as Dean got into his truck and drove away. I drew the blinds and closed the blackout curtains, a routine I’d performed so many mornings since meeting Patrick that I couldn’t count anymore. The door creaked opened behind me and I turned.

“What are you still doing up?” Patrick asked, shutting the door behind him. Taking the several steps across the room, he closed the distance between us and brought me into a tight, sure embrace.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I mumbled into his chest. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I held on as if I could take him into me and keep him there.

“What’s all this about?” he asked with a smile in his voice. He shifted back to stare down into my face, tracing my jaw line with cool fingers as he searched my face for some sign of life. He leaned in and pressed a delicate, chaste kiss. He was being careful but I didn’t want him to be careful. I needed him to want me, to burn the emptiness away. Holding him to me with desperation making my knuckles ache around my grip on his suit jacket, I kissed him as if it were the last time. His tongue found mine, dancing in a familiar tango, slow and intimate, inside my mouth.

“Dahlia, I don’t know that I have the energy to fight the dawn a third day.” His tone was breathless and pleading.

“Please,” I breathed as I ran my hand up his chest and pressed my mouth against his, licking across the seam of his lips.

He picked me up, carrying me to the bed. He laid me down over the comforter, gentle as if I were breakable.

His touches were soft and delicate, begging me to allow him more. I slid the jacket over his shoulders, unbuttoned his dress shirt, one slow button at a time, and ran my hands up the smooth expanse of his muscled chest. He was cold. Everywhere my fingers touched, his skin turned a soft pick where my body heat transferred to him. He laid soft kisses down my neck and over the spot that belonged only to him. My legs quivered with anticipation and the first signs of feeling since the fire.

I ripped my T-shirt over my head and threw it across the room as he shoved my jeans and panties down to my ankles. I kicked them to the floor with each foot, unbuttoning his pants and forcing them down over his hips in a flurried need to have him inside of me.

I glanced down at his hard and ready cock and wrapped my legs around him as I squeezed his pelvis down to meet mine. Devouring my mouth, he thrust his tongue between my teeth, claiming me for his own.

He slid easily inside of my waiting heat, groaning in my mouth as my warm wetness sheathed him. The world slipped away as he moved inside of me. I was home, both possession and possessor. Nothing in this world could touch me and, for a moment, everything else was gone.

His strong hands moved over my body in a gentle caress that spoke more of his love for me than any one word could describe. His easy rhythm caressed and pulsed inside me. The familiar ebb and flow of pressure grew deep within my body with each thrust of his pelvis. He pounded the tip of his shaft against my cervix and I took a quick intake of breath as I slipped over the edge. A wash of pleasure flowed over me, making my knees clench, my legs quiver, my toes curl, and my mind go happily blank as I shattered into a million pieces.

“There isn’t much time,” he whispered as I felt the sun crest over the horizon, coercing her way into my being and his.

“Finish it,” I said.

A devilish grin lit his face above me and he began to move. His thrusts were hurried and he set a fevered pace, trying to beat the dawn. Swelling inside of me, he climaxed, driving me over the edge with him again. He breathed a heavy sigh, carrying my name through the silence of the house.

“I love you,” he groaned, hoarse and exhausted.

“I love you. More than you know,” I said, suppressing the small sob at the back of my throat.

He rolled over and left me empty and alone, scrutinizing me with both happiness and dread in his dark eyes. Stroking my face with the back of his hand, he said, “I can’t fight it any longer, sweetheart. I’m sorry, but we’ll talk when I get up tonight,” he said with a faint smile, sensing my need.

I could already feel him slipping away into that in-between place where his body was still but his mind was alive and dreaming.

“Sure,” I breathed. “Tonight.”

He smiled, content and satisfied, his eyes already closed. Before I could say another word, he was gone.

I laid there for a moment, watching him, trying to memorize every pore in his skin, every hair on his head, and every pale scar that littered his body. Finally, I got up and covered him up with the blanket. I got dressed and went to his desk. I removed a piece of paper and a pen.

Dear Patrick,

I started to write. I didn’t know what to say after that. How do I say that I didn’t want to risk anyone else? That I loved him too much to watch him die? How did I say that I didn’t know who I was anymore and that I didn’t want to continue to hurt him? How did I say that I hated myself and that he is part of the reason why? I couldn’t put that in a letter. After 15 minutes of trying to explain myself, and failing miserably, all I was able to say was:

Dear Patrick,

I’m so sorry. I love you.   

D

Folding the piece of paper, I left it on the desk. He’d find it when he couldn’t find me. I left the house with a single tear on my cheek, then hopped on my motorcycle and drove off. There was one stop I had to make.

Chapter 24

It was early still. The sun had crested over the skyline as I left the mansion. Fifteen minutes later it wasn’t much higher. The moon was still out as I parked the bike on the street. I hated the suburbs but this was a stop I had to make.

Derek lived in a cookie-cutter subdivision where the houses were mirror images of each other, with an open floor plan, and the bathroom was as plain as any rental.

Following the manicured walk, just like the rest of the Stepford lawns in Derek’s cul-de-sac neighborhood, I approached the front door and knocked. When no one answered, I knocked harder. The sound of a burly man tripping over something and swearing in a groggy rumble was audible through the door. Any other day I would’ve smiled at causing him a little grief. Today was different.

Derek yanked the door open, standing in the doorframe dressed only in his boxers and seeming annoyed.

I rolled my eyes and folded my arms over my chest. The last thing I wanted was to see him in his boxers. It wasn’t that he was bad looking. He was Derek and I didn’t want to see it.

“Here a little early, aren’t ya, Kid, or is it late for you?” he asked with sleep still thick in his voice as he rubbed his eyes. He leaned on the doorframe and rolled his neck.

“Both, I imagine.”

“You wanna come in?” he asked, yawning as he swung the door wide.

“No,” I answered probably a little too quick, shoving my hands into my jeans pockets. “I came to tell you that I’m . . . I’m leaving,” I blurted. His eyes narrowed on me with suspicion. The stern cop façade fell over his face, eclipsing everything else. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as my friend disappeared and the cop emerged.

“Oh yeah?” he asked in his controlled cop voice. He was awake now.

“Yeah.”

“Where ya goin’?” he asked, folding his bulky arms over his chest. His muscles bulged like a body builder’s as he tried to hide his tension.

“I don’t know,” I said, suddenly unsure, as my voice cracked.

“How long ya gonna be gone?” he asked, and this time he sounded worried.

“Dunno,” I said again, plucking the receipt from my back pocket and handing it to him. “That’s an e-mail account I set up. No one knows about it so if you need to get in touch with me, use this. I’ll check it as often as I can.” 

He was quiet for a moment as he watched me squirm.

“I just wanted you to know so you didn’t think I was skipping out on you,” I offered with a sad attempt at a smile.

“Does he know?” he asked. Suddenly, instead of the cop badgering me, Derek was my friend again. His body relaxed and his arms fell to his sides as he took a step toward me.

“He will soon enough,” I said as I wiped a tear from my cheek. “Don’t let him push you into searching for me, either,” I snapped, suddenly defiant.

“Sure, Kid,” he said with an accepting nod. “You’re gone, and I don’t know where, I get it.” He peered over my shoulder. “I think there might be someone else you need to talk to though before you skip town,” he offered, nodding his head to something behind me.

I spun to face the street.

Dean leaned up against his truck on the opposite side. I’d been so distracted I hadn’t heard his truck. Turning back to Derek, I gave him a quick hug.

“Remember what I said. Don’t let him push you around, either one of them,” I said against his ear.

He hugged me back and said, “Yeah, I’ll remember. Try not to get into trouble.” He stepped away. “Good luck, Kid.” He gave me a quick nod then backed into the house and closed the door.

I shuffled back the way I’d come, passing my bike parked on the street. Stopping a few feet away, I stood before Dean, tall, with my shoulders back, and on my own two feet.

“You can’t stop me,” I said.

“Didn’t come to stop you.”

“Then why are you here?” I asked, confused.

He yanked me into his arms and pressed me firmly against the solid bulk of his warm chest.

“To give you a reason to come back,” he huffed in a husky, dangerous tone. His lips crashed down upon mine with a hunger I’d been feeling for months and had not words to describe. His lips were full, heated with power and passion, and clung to me with a possessiveness of white-hot need that seared into me. He parted my lips with his tongue and drove past my teeth as that voice whispered inside my head,
safe . . . warm . . . home
.

I collapsed into his embrace like I’d always been there, like coming home. His scorching hot power rushed over me, filled me, and consumed me whole as his mouth devoured mine.

My body grew warm and expectant as my hands ran up the hard lines of his back and clasped onto his shoulders, clinging to him as he licked and tasted me. My breasts grew heavy with want as a pool of heat lingered low in my body.

The scent of him, musk and a spring forest, filled my senses, making my knees buckle. I was
home
, just as I had been
home
in Patrick’s arms. Something inside me clicked into place like the pins aligning in a lock. He jerked away from me, his breath heavy and ragged like mine.

“That’s not fair,” I grunted.

“I never said I played fair.” He chuckled, his lips swollen and still a kissable distance away. I could feel his breath graze my skin.

I loved him.

I loved his strength, his silence, his patience, and I loved that he didn’t expect any of that from me.

“I have to go,” I pleaded, still wrapped in his strong, muscled arms.

“I know,” he said, defeated.

I found my knees and stood on my own, stepping out of his strong embrace. It was harder than I’d thought it would be, putting that distance between us.
She
kept growling in the back of my mind to stay with him, to protect him and the Pack. I couldn’t. Even standing there, knowing that I loved him, I had nothing left to give.

He let me go, then leaned back against his truck with an ease I didn’t believe. His shoulders were too stiff and the muscles along his jaw jumped and pulsed as he ground his teeth.

“You know?” I asked, suspicious.

He hung his head and nodded, releasing a heavy breath that sounded just as tired as I felt.

“Yeah, I’ve been watching you for days, months, really.” He shifted, meeting my eyes with pain and understanding. “You’ve had an expression on your face for the last two days that . . .” he started, but hesitated. “I’ve seen that look in the mirror a thousand times since Janey died but something always kept me here.” He touched my face, his light fingers trailing a hot trail of desire down my neck straight to my core. “I could never do what you’re about to do.”

“What?” I scoffed. “Run away?”

“No,” he growled. “Stand on your own two feet. I relied on the Pack and Patrick, sometimes too heavily. You’re braver than you know. Braver than I was.”

“I don’t remember who I am or why . . .” I said, but I couldn’t finish. I didn’t want him to hear me admit how irrevocably broken I was.

“Or why we love you,” he finished for me.

I nodded and tried not to cry. He watched me force back my tears in silence. I didn’t want any of them to know but he seemed to read me like a book. I couldn’t hide from him and I had too much to keep secret. If I really loved them, I had to get away. The only way to protect them was to leave them.

He seemed to see it all play out behind my eyes. “Danny and Amblan’s deaths weren’t your fault.”

I turned surprised eyes up to him.

“I know that’s what’s been playing over and over again in that pretty little head of yours. Since Danny died and now Amblan.”

“They were,” I said.

He took my face in his hands, forcing me to focus on him and really see him.

“No, they weren’t,” he said, frustration clear in the growl.

I nodded, not daring to contradict him, knowing that he’d smell the lie. His lips disappeared into a thin line as he shook his head in disbelief. He didn’t believe me. I didn’t believe me, either.

He released my face and turned to open the door of his truck. He grabbed an envelope from the front seat and handed it to me without ceremony.

I opened it with a questioning glance up at his stoic expression. The envelope was filled with hundreds. I snapped my head up to meet his waiting grin.

“There’s six thousand there,” he said with a smile. “Let’s call it an advance on your wages.” I handed it back to him but he shoved it back at me. “You’ll need this and you won’t be able to use your accounts. Pat’ll find you if you do?”

I nodded. I’d already ditched my phone and taken out as much money as the ATM would allow. The minute Patrick found out I was gone, he wouldn’t stop until he found me. That was one of the reasons I loved him.

“I didn’t tell anyone but Derek. Don’t let Patrick pressure Jade to find me,” I said, shoving the money into my inside jacket pocket.

“She’s Pack,” he said.

Patrick would have to go through Dean for Jade’s help and Dean would regulate Patrick’s access to her. I nodded. Dean would protect her when I couldn’t.

There was so much I wanted to say. So much I didn’t know how to say. I stared up at him and simply leaned in. I kissed him, a brief caress of lips that was somehow filled with all my sorrow and regret. He held still, accepting my kiss for what it was.

“Thank you,” I whispered against his lips.

“When you get back, we’ll talk about this Eithina thing,” he said with a warm grin, echoing my words back to me.

“When I get back.” I nodded, meeting his soft, olive-green eyes. The first signs of Caribbean blue bled in to his irises, showing his fight to keep control of his wolf and remain calm . . . for me.

He raised his head toward the fading moon and the rising sun. “Baby, you’re burnin’ daylight and your 12-hour lead.”

I nodded and turned back toward the bike.

He grabbed me by the hand and held me to him one last time, pressing his lips hard against mine. His warm mouth crushed against mine. His kiss was radiated his need, promising other things later, things I wanted. My eyes fluttered and I felt the warm tingle of arousal between my thighs. As he stepped away, I wondered if this would be the last time.

“I love you. Be safe,” he said as he let me go. I crossed the street to my bike without looking back.

“I love you, too,” I breathed as I shoved the helmet down over my head. I don’t know if he heard me or not.

I got onto the bike and started it up. I allowed myself a glance back at him and everything I was leaving behind. I gripped the handlebars, twisted the throttle and shot out in a roar of engine noise.

I weaved through the suburban maze until I reached the highway and headed West. I had a lead. I had money in my pocket and the means to disappear. Patrick loved me, Dean loved me, and God help me, I loved them both. I just didn’t love myself, not anymore.

I didn’t know where I was going or how long I’d be gone. I didn’t even know if I was coming back. All I knew was I had to fix this, and I couldn’t do it in Columbus.

The moon’s waning crescent, still faint in the distance, lit my way and I chased that small sliver of silver in the sky until it disappeared into midday, and I kept heading West.