Familiar Strangers (15 page)

But Galen was getting close and she didn’t know how to stop it.

The gray sky was swirling with lighter clouds pushed across the sky by warm ocean breezes. Regin searched the clouds and looked for signs of more rain. Nothing came behind the small pale ones.

Regin felt the pain in her chest knowing that, with the passing of the storm, her time with Galen was over. It shouldn’t hurt, but it did. Logic wasn’t having any effect on her emotions. All of her other senses were too overwhelmed.

She knew Galen by scent. Knew there would be a small scar above his right nipple from a fall in the water when he was eight. Regin was willing to bet her next book that he would have three moles on his left arm shaped in a pyramid. It felt like she was reliving a memory, but whose? She’d never seen Galen Matthews until that night in Killeen.

“What the hell is happening to me? What is he doing to my life?” she threw the question to the waves that lapped at her feet.

Regin stumbled over a washed up piece of driftwood and sank into the damp sand. The truth was there. It was time to bring it to light even if only in her mind.

The undisclosed truth she kept hidden from everyone. The threat Damon wasn’t aware of. The risk Regin buried so deep within herself it never saw daylight.

There was no choice now. After the night she’d spent in Galen’s arms, the choice had been taken from both of them. If Regin didn’t leave Galen and his island, he wouldn’t live long enough to regret it.

Townsend had made sure Regin knew he followed her; where she lived, who she came in contact with, and how intimate the friendship became. No matter where Regin ran or how deeply she hid, Townsend found ways to let her know he hadn’t forgotten her. Warning her when he thought Regin was getting too close to someone.

The letters arrived from different states around the country. Never the same city; no clues to follow and no leads to chase.

Regin’s mind knew Townsend was locked behind steel bars, being guarded by men with guns, but her heart fluttered with each letter. Her nightmare would never be over. When Townsend got out, he was coming for her and no one and nothing could stop him.
She watched storm debris float in the water, not focusing on the damage inflicted by the hurricane, but by the threats hovering over her head night and day. If Townsend ever caught Regin with a lover, the man would die. After all these years, she knew it was more than a boastful threat. It was a promise.

Galen would be in danger because he had felt pity and lust for a woman he didn’t know. His blood would be on her hands. Regin still had a few days grace before the letter would arrive. It would give her time to make plans.

She would leave without a word. She’d done it before, but this time Regin wouldn’t have Tatum’s sources to back her up. She’d be on her own. She couldn’t burden Damon with this. She knew he would lose his infamous temper and there wouldn’t be a prison strong enough to keep her best friend from killing Townsend.

Regin didn’t want Damon spending the rest of his life in jail because she couldn’t handle her own problems. Townsend was her problem. She wouldn’t let anyone else suffer because a madman was obsessed with her life.

****


Galen reached his arm out to have the close heat of Regin’s body pressed against his. Maybe he could talk her into a different kind of wake up call. His lower body rose in happy agreement.

With a half-smile on his face, eyes still closed, he leaned over to draw Regin back into his arms. His eyes immediately popped open when he encountered nothing but empty covers. A quick look around the room showed no sign of Regin.

Galen was awake and in full panic not being able to find her. His terror multiplied when he saw Annie scratching and whining at the door, demanding her morning release. He bolted from the bed, taking time to throw on a pair of jeans before he hit the stairs running and calling out Regin’s name, knowing there would be no reply... Just like the last time.

Chapter Fourteen

He shook his head as his bare feet flew over the chilly hardwood floor. Where were these thoughts coming from? Galen had never run through the house screaming Regin’s name. Or maybe he had last night but he couldn’t remember.

Annie flew by him and pushed her nose against the kitchen door. Galen knew better than to deny the animal’s natural instinct. He was right when Annie bolted out the door heading straight to the beach.

Everything seemed different this morning. Colors were both muted and more vivid than he’d ever seen. Sounds swirled and danced around him, but Galen couldn’t pin point what they were. Everything moved slowly, but with purpose.

With a jolt he understood the world around him was nothing more than a dream. But with a smile of pleasure Galen also knew he could shape and influence the events in this realm.

Even in a dream his panic and fear for Regin wouldn’t leave him. It wasn’t Galen’s nature to overreact in any situation. He’d been trained to evaluate, contemplate, and then initiate.

But years of training and his own innate survival instincts were being pushed aside in his fear for Regin.

Relief swept through his so quickly at the sight of Regin on the beach, he felt his legs buckle. It took every ounce of discipline to lock his knees and force a casual tone and smile to his face.

“You’ve been waiting long?” he tried to joke, tried to convince his body to move off her luscious form, but it wasn’t listening.

He could feel the heat of her through the layers of cloth separating them. She had to know the effect her lush body was having on him. The proof of it was nestled against her and rapidly growing harder and longer with every breath.

He saw the confusion cloud her eyes by his question. Could she be as struck by this passion as he? Was that why she wasn’t struggling out of his hold like any good Catholic Creole girl would?

It was the excuse his mind needed to follow his body’s demands. He swiftly lowered his head and captured her lips.

Her taste was everything he imagined and more. She tasted of both sunlit gardens and moonlit walks. He nibbled her lips teasingly, coaxing her to open to him. Her lips parted under the pressure and his tongue swooped in like a conquering army. He tasted every inch of her mouth, running his skilled tongue along the perfect lines of her teeth. Their tongues intertwined, thrusting gently mimicking the gently rocking motions of his hips.

When she gave a breathless moan, he made sure to capture the sigh with his mouth. He felt her arms tentatively latch around his neck, her fingers delving into the thickness of his hair. A strong shudder of desire swept through his body at the feel of her hands touching him. He felt like an unschooled boy with his first woman. He wasn’t so callous. He was a full grown man in control of his own desires and passions. No woman had made him lose control. He would gather what was left of his senses and take her home, then never see her again.
His resolve lasted until he felt the tentative movement of her hips thrusting hesitantly against his own. His intentions, good or otherwise, fled as desire like he’d never known flooded his body and claimed his mind.

He made love to her there on the sandy beach in the morning light He didn’t know her name. It didn’t seem important, nothing but the feel of her in his arms was important—not the problems that came before nor the ones he knew to come after. His only concern was for the woman in his arms and how he could make her his forever.

He peeled the satin gown from her skin, kissing every inch of skin revealed. She whispered a token protest when he undressed her, but once he lay beside her, skin to skin, her whispers changed to passionate pleas.

He joined their bodies, hearts and souls. Her virgin body was tight around him, but he knew this woman was made for him. She shuddered beneath him, her warmth tightening even more around him as she emitted moans and gasps and panted for breath. His roar of completion dared the devil himself to try and take her from him.

He lay beside her content for the moment. Her heart beat rapidly under his cheek. He rolled to his back, clasping an arm around her and bringing her head to his shoulder. He absently stroked her back, enjoying the feel of her skin against the roughness of his hand.

The scene suddenly changed. It was night. He was screaming out her name, listening as his words echoed back through the sound of the falling rain.

He’d lost her. She was somewhere out in the dark woods alone. He ran, heedless of the branches slashing against his face and cutting into his pants.
He knew she was out there. He had to find her before it was too late.
Then the pain of the memories caused him to drop to his knees and grip his head. ****

“Regin!”

The shout cut through the brisk wind. Galen’s voice was singed with anger. How was she going to face him? Did she want him to think last night had meant nothing to her? It would make leaving so much easier if Regin fed his rage.

Regin looked over her shoulder when the sound of the kitchen door slamming was followed by a grunt of pain. Galen kneeled on the ground, body bent, hands clutching his dark hair. She flew across the yard to the man kneeling in the rain soaked grass, clutching his head and groaning in pain.

Oh God, she was too late. Townsend had been here. Fear froze Regin on her knees in front of Galen’s rigid form. He must have woken, seen she wasn’t there, and come to find her. His jeans had been hastily put on, zipped but left unbuttoned.

“Oh God, Galen, please open your eyes. Please.” Regin tapped his warm whiskered cheeks. “Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought there would be more time. He’s always given me more time. Why wasn’t there time? How had this happened?” she whispered to herself.

Galen was one of the strongest men she knew. How had Townsend managed to catch him unaware? Was he still lurking in the shadows, stalking her? Rage pushed aside the body- numbing fear.

Damn her, if she would just sit here and fall apart like she had last night. If that madman wanted his shot at her, then he could damn well take it. Regin wasn’t leaving the yard without Galen. Quickly running her hands across his clammy stomach, down his arms and legs, she could find no signs of injury, no blood, no swelling.

Rocking back on her heels, Regin’s mind rapidly absorbed what must have happened.

Townsend somehow had escaped or the henchman who sent the letters had found her here; saw them together last night and now Regin was being punished. Galen was the one suffering for her lack of willpower.

“Galen, I’m so sorry,” she whispered over his bent form. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know,” she repeated, her voice breaking under the weight of guilt. “He didn’t send the letter. I didn’t get the letter. There should have been more time.” She backed away slowly shaking her head. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

Assured Galen would be fine until she called 911 and sent help. There were no obvious wounds, but there were many different ways to cause pain.

“I’m leaving, Galen. I’m calling for help then I’m leaving. I promise. I’m taking the nightmare I brought with me. I won’t have your blood on my hands.”

Regin leaned in, kissed his face softly, and walked around him. She had taken no more than two steps when her wrist was shackled.

“You not going any damn place, woman.” Galen’s husky voice warned her.

Regin’s eyes widened in shock as she looked down to where Galen’s hand wrapped itself tightly around her wrist. What was going on? Just seconds ago she thought him to be dying. “Wha...what?” She couldn’t get the breath to speak.
His eyes narrowed in anger as he looked up from his seated position in the damp grass. “What, Regin? You were going to sneak away to avoid me? I’m not going to make it easy. Sorry, babe.” Galen’s voice sounded anything but sorry. ****

His grip tightened as Galen struggled to rein in his anger. There were too many sensations roaring through him. There was too much shit, memories, emotions, playing tag in his head. He couldn’t deal with it, didn’t have the time to deal with her childishness. He knew she’d been running. He wouldn’t allow her to run from him again, once had been enough.

Head throbbing, stomach jumping, he rose slowly to his feet never freeing her wrist. “We’re gonna talk, Regin. Now.”

Dragging her feet, Galen pulled her none too gently behind him. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts, he was only dimly aware of Annie as the dog raced toward the water covered bridge, barking as she struggled to gain their attention.

****
Swearing softly, the man lowered his gun, slinking silently into the woods before the dog swam over. He didn’t want it catching his scent. He didn’t have the luxury of shooting the mutt yet. The noise would only alert them. Quietly he merged back into the trees, carefully removing any sign of his nightlong vigil.

There would be another time and a better place to take Regin’s man out. After all, he had made a promise to her. He was nothing if a man who kept all his promises. With one last look at the house, he vanished into the dank swamp foliage.

****

“Why you were leaving?” Galen’s voice was calm, soft, and laced with steel. She was in deep shit.

“Galen, please.” Regin tried to reason with him. “You have to understand there are things about me you don’t know. Things I can’t tell you. It would be better for you if I left.” Granted, it would have been rude to leave without saying goodbye, but hell she thought the man was dying. A point Regin didn’t think wise to bring up given his present mood.