Forsaken (The Found Book 2) (33 page)

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Authors: Caitlyn O'Leary

BOOK: Forsaken (The Found Book 2)
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“Shut up, dick,” he laughed. “I don’t mean like that. Besides, I don’t get my world rocked when I fuck a woman, I rock her world.” Keanu smirked.

“Man, you’re so full of it. I heard Cathy calling you all kinds of names and none of them good.” Hal punched Keanu’s arm.

“Damn, she’s one crazy-ass bitch. Seriously though, have you ever gotten a feeling nothing is gonna be the same again?” Keanu brought the conversation back around, avoiding the unwanted reminder of his ex.

Hal bumped his size fourteen feet against Keanu’s before answering. He felt like a pussy for voicing his fears.

“I don’t discount any mysterious crap. For real, my grandmother used to talk about the berserkers in my family, and how they came back every hundred years or some shit. I’m the first blond giant in over ten decades.” He gave Keanu a pointed look. “My Nana’s words, not mine. Sometimes, when I’m in the middle of a fire, I feel like another person is in my body. Ya know what I mean?” Color spread across Hal’s face.

Keanu knew exactly what he meant. Every member of their Smokejumper group had special abilities. Hal was clearly a human wrecking ball. He just hadn’t realized Hal wasn’t always in control, or didn’t feel like it at least. “I think we all feel like that to an extent. Have you talked to the captain about it?”

Hal pinned him with a look brooking no argument. “Nothing to talk about.”

They fell silent. Keanu let the quiet of the night soothe his soul. One of the reasons he and Hal were such good friends was because neither man pried into the other’s business.

“I’d better get going. You want me to help clean up?” Hal nodded at the dishes on the table.

“Nah, I got it.”

“Hey, I owe you for cooking, but I haven’t mastered the art of making anything other than Ramen noodles yet.”

Keanu blinked his eyes. “Because you have the poor little boy look down to an art. You bat those baby blues and all the ladies line up to cook for you.”

“Well, you just smile that bright cheesy-ass grin and the ladies are lining up to take their panties off for you. I think that trumps my free meals.”

Both men laughed at the familiar argument, since neither man lacked for food or companionship.

They were opposite in looks. Keanu had dark hair hanging past his shoulders, dark brown eyes, and topped out at six foot. Hal was built more like a swimmer, and had at least three inches on him. Keanu had the physique of a body builder and spent his off-time working out or participating in extreme sports.

Brax, the co-leader of his team of Smokejumpers, recruited Keanu at twenty-two when he’d made national headlines. Now at thirty-three, he was ready to head home and settle down. Being seven years older than Hal, he considered him like a little brother. As the unofficial leader of the team it was his job to watch over the guys, but he’d taken Hal under his wing. Knowing he’d possibly done his last jump, and he and Hal would no longer be working together, Keanu already missed his friend.

He walked Hal to the door and watched as the big man took the stairs two at a time, before jumping into his oversized four-wheel-drive pickup. Hal waved one big hand out the window before executing a U-turn to leave. Keanu waited until the taillights disappeared down the long drive before going inside. After cleaning up the mess, he shed his clothes and stood under the rainforest-like shower he’d installed on his deck. Sighing, he closed his eyes.

 

****

 

Cammie Masters loved the little town of McKinley Landing, and the way it was tucked into the side of the surrounding mountains. But, and this was a big but, she hated the way it had grown. The town used to be only thirty-eight hundred people. Since the pork plant had moved in, the population had almost doubled, and so had the crime.

Many of the residents of McKinley Landing were a mix of races, but she connected best with her mother’s Native American relatives. Her red hair was the only thing that was different. When she was a child, she’d played with the other kids and wished she’d had their black hair.

The summer Cammie had turned twelve, she'd fallen in love for the first time. She’d climbed one of the big pines bordering the Cascade forests and her shoe got stuck several feet up, between two branches. She thought back to the afternoon that changed her whole life with fondness.

“I’m a big girl. I am not gonna cry.” Cammie shivered, looking down at the ground from the tree she was stuck in. “Dang you, Mazey Otto,” Cammie whimpered.

Mazey called her a fire demon because of her red hair. When she told her it didn’t mean she was evil the other girl called her a liar. She hadn’t intended to hurt the brat, she’d only wanted her to shut up. It wasn’t her fault. Mazey was clumsy and fell down the stairs. Now everyone was calling her names, so she ran away.

Swiping at the tears dripping down her cheeks, she didn’t want to admit she was crying. Cammie tried to wiggle her foot free, but only made it worse. The sound of something crashing through the trees caused her to nearly jump out of her skin. From her viewpoint, something really big was running straight for the tree—for her.

Cammie held her breath, closed her eyes, and prayed whatever it was wouldn’t see her and decide she’d make a tasty snack. Her mama always said there were things in the forests that would kill and not to go into them. But Cammie loved the big pines, and the noises the animals made were her favorite sounds. Now, the wilderness seemed to stop and wait, like it knew a greater predator was in its midst.

The beat of her heart filled her ears. Cammie opened her eyes. Surely if the beast was hungry it would be growling or shaking the tree, right? Looking at the last place she’d seen the thing, she relaxed, or tried as much as she could with her arms wrapped around the trunk.

“Are you ready to get down?”

Cammie jumped. “Oh my God. Please don’t eat me. I’ll taste really, really bad. I promise.”

A deep laugh had her looking at the speaker. He had to be the most beautiful person in the entire world. Long black hair and two dimples in his cheeks, if he was gonna eat her, he wouldn’t smile at her, Cammie thought.

“I’m not that hungry.” The gorgeous man snapped his teeth together. “Yet.”

She shivered, and the tears she tried hard to hold back, dripped down her cheeks.

“I was only joking, don’t cry. I’m going to climb up and see what’s going on, okay?”

He didn’t give her a chance to answer before he scaled the big tree like a monkey. She was a good twenty feet in the air. What had taken her at least fifteen minutes to climb, he did in less than five.

“Wow, you’re a really good climber.”

“Why thank you, my tiny damsel in distress. I’m Keanu Raine. What’s your name?”

Cammie’s brow furrowed. “Um…I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

He held out his hand. “Well, since you’re kinda stuck in this tree and it’s getting dark, let’s become friends.”

Cammie gazed at the man she decided she would marry someday. He told her about himself, patiently telling her he was a local firefighter, and about his grandfather, the shaman of their tribe. Her mother was so gonna love him. Cammie adored the name Keanu, figuring it would go down in her diary as her new favorite.

“I’m going to be grounded for life if my mama finds out I was here,” Cammie groaned.

“Let’s worry about getting you down and then I’ll take you home. I’m sure she’s already worried about you.”

She nearly fell out of the tree when Keanu pulled out a little knife. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“What? This?” Keanu held it up. “I’m going to trim some of the bark off between these branches, so we can get your shoe loose.”

Watching closely, Cammie held completely still until the pressure eased on her foot. She jerked her leg, nearly kneeing her knight in the jaw.

“Thank you, thank you, Keanu.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“All right, now we need to get down. I want you to climb on my back and hold on. Can you do that?”

“I can get down by myself. I got up here, didn’t I?”

“Yes, little lady, you did, but you also got yourself stuck. Besides, it’s my job to rescue people, so you’d be letting me do my job.”

He made it sound like she was helping him. With a huff, Cammie wrapped her arms around Keanu’s neck and held on for dear life.

He descended the tree like he’d been doing it all his life. She didn’t want to let go when they reached the bottom and he obviously thought she couldn’t walk. All the way back to town, he told her about his new job. When he told her he was leaving to become a part of a group called Smokejumpers, she wanted to weep.

Cammie decided she was going to be just like him when she grew up.

“Hey, Red, how ’bout you and me going out tonight?” Ted Grossman asked.

The question jarred her out of her memories. She used to consider Ted to be one of her best friends. Any time Cammie was in a jam, Ted was there to help pull her out. When her high school boyfriend had been cheating on her, it had been Ted whose shoulder she’d cried on. Luckily for her, Ted was also the one who had broken the news to Cammie. Otherwise she may have made the biggest mistake of her life, since it was prom night and all.

Now, the thought of Ted and his new friends made her skin crawl. There was something about the three men he’d been hanging out with that didn’t sit well with her.

“Um, not tonight, Ted.” She smiled to lessen the blow.

Cammie tried to walk around the pack of idiots standing outside the bar. One of them grabbed her arm, making her flinch at the rough treatment. The hand wrapped around her bicep held her in place. She looked at the man, at his hand where it rested on her arm, and back to him. She raised her eyebrows. Ted gave her a beseeching look.

“Listen, you little bitch. You think you’re better than us? Well, I have news for you.”

She recognized Bob Thompson and his sneering voice immediately. “Guys, I’m tired. I really just wanna go home and get some rest. Why don’t you go back into Sully’s and have another beer?” Cammie looked at Ted, a guy she used to consider a friend.

“Aw, come on, Cam. You can have just one drink. You know you’re the hottest piece of meat in town,” Ted said with a drunken leer.

Cammie shuddered. “Did you just call me a cow? No, don’t answer that.” She held up her free hand. “Seriously, I really appreciate your flattery, but I’m going home.” Cammie looked pointedly at the hand still holding her arm.

“Let’s go, Bob. I’ll buy you a drink,” Ted offered.

“You are a fucking pussy, Ted,” Bob snarled.

Cammie had enough. Using Ted’s distraction, she shoved her palm into Bob’s chest, pushing him away, and twisted out of his grasp. He lunged, but luckily for her his friends dragged him back into the bar. His curses still rang in her ears. Tossing her ponytail over her shoulder, she shook her head and quickened her pace.

Walking to the firehouse yesterday had seemed like such a good freaking idea. Why hadn’t she considered the danger of leaving at midnight the following night? She decided to claim temporary insanity. With the string of fires, and one of her teammates injured, it worked for her.

She picked up her pace, pushed her bag over her hip, and tapped her pocket to make sure her phone was still there. She’d be totally lost without her iPhone. The hair on the nape of her neck prickled. Cammie glanced over her shoulder and saw a Jeep sitting idle at the stoplight. The late hour and the dark tinted windows didn’t allow her to see the driver, and a shiver wracked her frame.

With some kind of pyromaniac running around, the last thing she needed was a stalker for crying out loud. The engine roared and she watched from the corner of her eye as the Jeep turned at the light. “Thank you, Lord Jesus,” Cammie murmured.

 

****

 

Ted wanted to hit Bob for the way he treated his Cammie; he also wanted to call back his own words. When he saw the woman of his dreams walking alone, he thought he’d invite her in for a drink, but it seemed he had no control over his mouth. He had no clue Bob and the other guys would follow him. Her rejection nearly gutted him, but he still didn’t want her hurt, and she’d be a lot more than hurt if Bob got ahold of her. Ted had seen firsthand what the man could and would do to those who didn’t do as he wanted.

The images sent ice through his veins. “You owe me more than a drink, Teddy.” Bob’s voice slurred.

The overwhelming urge to smash the empty bottle over Bob’s head heated his once chilled body. The knowing glint in the other man’s eyes made Ted knock his knuckles on the table instead. He signaled for the waitress to bring them another round. At the rate they were going, Ted was going to owe more than he made in a week. The alternative was something he didn’t want to consider.

Since Bob and his friends had come to town, Ted didn’t know what was what. One night he’d had too much to drink and the next he owed his soul to the devil, or in this case, Bob.

Memories of that night were sketchy, but Bob and the other guys were only too happy to fill him in, with video proof. Ted shook his head. He thought of the saying there’s no use crying over spilled milk, and wanted to yell at the absurdity. If only it was milk he’d spilled. His stomach churned.

The waitress brought over the tray of tequila shots and beer bottles. Ted didn’t wait for her to place them on the table, and grabbed a shot glass off the tray. He needed more liquid courage, and the sooner he finished the drinks, the quicker she would bring more.

Ted tossed his head back, letting the liquid burn his throat before a pleasant numbness stole over him. If he could always feel this way, maybe he’d stay drunk for the rest of his life, which might not be much longer if Bob had any say in the matter. He raised his hand again, happy to see the bartender already refilling their order.

 

About the Author

I’m a wife and mother who is a retired stay at home mom of 2. I say retired because my youngest is 14 and my oldest is 21 eeek. When my baby went to school, reading saved my sanity, and then the same year he started school, I was diagnosed with Cancer, again reading saved my sanity. When I recovered and realized how quickly life could change, I made a bucket list. The number one thing was to live. Check. On top of that list was to become a published author. Check. Eight years later I have accomplished that goal and several others. Now, I continue to add to the list and check them off as I go.

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