Honor Unraveled (27 page)

They turned to the south as they caught a dirt road up around an incline. The trees became thicker and the road less defined. When they came out of the trees, they were on a high plateau that dipped down to a valley along a gently rolling slope. Kit steered around some huge boulders, moving the Jeep over to the lip of the valley.

Ivy couldn’t believe what she was seeing far below. She leaned forward and gripped the support handle.

An old, abandoned town was down there. Complete with a church, several houses, and a smattering of old commercial buildings. “What is this place?”

“An old ghost town.” Kit turned the Jeep down the hill, loosely staying on a rutted trail that led straight into the town.

“No one lives here?”

“Only ghosts.”

“Wow. Look at it. It’s so well preserved.”

“It’s pretty low here at the bottom of the valley. I think that may have helped protect it from the wind.”

“What town was this?”

“Don’t know. Never researched it.”

He parked in the middle of the road. They both got out. Ivy took a few steps in front of the Jeep. When Kit joined her, she reached for his hand again as she looked around. The first building on the right had big sliding doors that were open. A sign hung down, over the opening, as gray as the building it labeled. She could make out only enough letters to see it had been the town’s livery.

“I hid Blade here the summer after I first got him out of his house. By the time it started to get cold, people forgot about him. They believed his dad’s story of his running away. Course, he was eighteen then, so that was his choice to make.”

“Wasn’t he afraid to be here alone?”

“I don’t think Blade’s ever been afraid of anything.”

“Mandy said he wouldn’t stay at his house when you guys first came back.”

“Not wanting to revisit bad memories isn’t the same as being afraid.”

Ivy looked up at him. “Sometimes, it is.”

He smiled, a sad kind of smile. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he turned her down the street. “C’mon. I’ll show you the town.”

Ivy hooked an arm around his waist. The gun strapped to his thigh brushed her leg every now and then, a reminder that while they were having fun, he was still primed for danger.

The wooden buildings were in bad shape. Time and neglect had made the wood gray and brittle. The handful of structures that were brick-sided fared better. Piles of tumbleweed spilled from open windows and doors. Short prairie grass, in blotches of dead and live growth, crept from the dilapidated boardwalk into the wide dirt road.

The sun was getting lower in the sky but was still hours from setting in the long July night. Still, it cast warm, orange-hued rays over the old village, and the shadows from the opposite side of the street stretched across the road in thick, bluish stripes.
 

Kit took her hand as they walked the quarter-mile length of the main road, stepping through a few of the buildings safe enough to enter. The only things the former residents left behind were broken bits of furniture and faded wallpaper.
 

“Don’t you wonder what happened to the town?” she asked when they headed back to the Jeep.

“I never gave it much thought. Maybe they moved over to Wolf Creek Bend when the interstate came through. Maybe cars and better roads made Wolf Creek Bend more viable. I don’t know.” At the back of the Jeep, he opened a satchel. “Think you’ve got a feel for the town?”

Ivy frowned. “There’s not much to it. Why?”

He reached into the satchel and pulled out a set of heavy black denim clothes. “You might want to put these on.”

“Why?” she asked again.

“Because after two boring dates, I figured you were due a fun one.” He grinned at her. “We’re gonna have a paintball fight.”

“You’re assuming they were boring.”

“True. One gave you nightmares.”

Ivy glared at him, but sat on the Jeep’s bumper and removed her shoes. She unzipped her jeans, then pushed and wiggled them down her legs. She felt a little silly standing in front of him with bare legs and footies on, but he wasn’t looking at her ankles. She watched his blue-eyed gaze move from her lacy briefs up to her breasts.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Why? I don’t care if I get paint on this.”

“Because I want to see you.”

She gave him a dark glare, then took the heavy denim pants and turned her back to him. When she bent over to step into the pants, she heard him draw a sharp breath. “This isn’t that kind of date,” she said to him over her shoulder as she drew the pants up and fastened them.

“Sure it is. Didn’t you get the schedule of events?”

She ignored that comment as she reached for the padded shirt and zipped it up. “They fit! How’d you know my size?”

“I asked Mandy.”

“You’ve been planning this for a while, then.”

The humor left his eyes as he touched his fingers to her face. “Have you ever paintballed before?”

“No.” She grabbed her sneakers and put them back on while Kit laid out two black vests, two paintball guns, tubes of tiny paintballs, CO2 tanks. He showed her how to load her gun with the paintballs.

“Let’s take some practice shots.” They walked over to the old livery. “Try taking some shots at the sign that’s hanging down.”

Ivy lifted her gun, then lowered it.

“What’s wrong?”

“This doesn’t seem right.”

“Why not?”

“We shouldn’t be defacing this old town. Someone might want to restore it.”

“Iv, this is the most action this town has seen in a hundred years. No one even remembers it exists. They aren’t going to want to restore it. But if they did, they couldn’t use the old, rotten wood anyway.”

“But the old brick buildings could be restored or moved.”

“Okay. We’ll stay clear of the brick buildings. Deal?”

She nodded. “Deal.”

They took turns hitting various areas of the livery, dotting it with brilliant splotches of yellow and pink. Ivy laughed, surprised how much fun it was. Kit showed her how to sight in her target a little better and they had another practice round. When they came back to the Jeep, he loaded up her vest, then helped her put it on.

“How will we know who won?” she asked as he pulled his own tactical vest on.

“Whoever has the least paint on them wins.” He tugged a bit of white fabric from one of her vest pockets and held it up. “Of course, you can always surrender—but when you do so, the victor names the forfeit.”

“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” She winced, looking at his gear. For a minute, it didn’t feel like a game when he looked fitted out for war.

“Won’t hurt me a bit,” he answered, slowly grinning. She realized he thought she didn’t stand a chance. “One last bit of gear. Gloves, masks, and head covers.” He put on a black head wrap that was like a loose scarf, then tied a striped headband around it. His head wrap was knotted in the back and hung down like a ponytail. The one he set over her hair was loose. “Covers your hair from paint splashes.” He fastened her wrap with a pink headband. “And masks.” He pulled two full-face masks out of his satchel. One was black, one burgundy, both with ghastly decorations of grinning skulls.

Ivy picked one up and shook her head. “Really? Skulls? How old are you? Twelve?”

“Don’t mock the skulls. You’re a paintball warrior now. You need to act like it.” He took up his gun. “Ready?”

“I guess so.”

“No shooting the other person if they’re closer than fifteen feet. And no shots above the shoulders. Clear?”

“Clear.”

“Then you better run. I’ll count to ten.” Ivy looked around, trying to pick the best place to start hiding. “One. Two. Five.”

“Wait a minute. You’re already cheating.” She’d only gone a few steps, but she turned around to call him on it.

He pushed the fierce skull mask up. His face was not friendly. He crossed the space separating them in a couple of long strides. She didn’t know if this was part of the game, but a strange thrill kept her from running. He slipped his hand between her arm and back, pulling her up against his body, lifting her as he took her mouth in a savage kiss that pushed every other thought out of her mind. She hooked her free hand up around his neck and held on as he worked her mouth. She opened herself to him, unable to stop the groan that worked its way up her chest and out of her mouth.

He lifted his head. “You’re right. We should fuck now and fight later.”

She gasped and pushed free of his hold. “Kit Bolanger. You’re incorrigible.”

He grinned. “No? Then start running, little girl. Six. Seven. Eight.”

Ivy squealed and took off, running across the street and zipping through a narrow alley to the back of a building. She pressed herself flat against it, then realized she’d lost sight of Kit. She looked around, figuring he could find her pretty easily if he came behind the buildings. She ran as quickly and quietly as she could, moving forward a couple of buildings. Dipping behind an alcove, she ventured a peek behind her. He wasn’t following. Yet. She popped out to advance to the next building, but he was there, standing at the other side of it with his horrible skull mask. She shrieked and turned around as a yellow splat of paint blossomed on the wooden boards next to her.
 

“You missed!” she shouted as she ran back between the buildings and found another cubby to hide in. This time she was ready for him. When he stepped out of the alley, she shot a paintball that hit his side. Then, laughing, she ran away to find another hiding spot.
 

He was sneaky, always seeming to anticipate where she would go. But she was too fast for him, picking spots where she had easy paths of retreat so his shots hit the walls near her but never hit her. Again and again, she was able to get in a lucky shot, hitting his legs and midsection. When she was out of paintballs, she thought about waving the white flag, but she was the victor. She’d gotten in more hits than he had.
 

Instead, she decided to make a run for the Jeep. He fired at her retreating form. She screamed and braced herself for the pain of the paintballs hitting her, but none did. He must have been running, too, for all of his shots landed wildly around her, hitting the dirt.
 

When she got to the Jeep, she set her gun down on his satchel and spun around to face him. He was too close to shoot now, but he couldn’t be happy having lost to her. She didn’t know if he’d take a last vindictive shot.
 

He didn’t stop moving until his knees touched her legs. “Are you surrendering?” he asked, pushing his mask up.

“I’m not surrendering. I won. Look at you.”

He didn’t look at himself. He didn’t need to to know he was covered with paint and she wasn’t.

“Waaait a minute. You didn’t miss. You didn’t shoot at me.” She frowned. “Why?”

A muscle worked in the corner of his jaw. “You were afraid it would hurt.” He shrugged. “And I thought you maybe had a little anger to work off with me.”

Ivy forced herself to breathe. She shut her eyes, blocking Kit from staring into her soul. She knew what he was doing. But you couldn’t undo the hurt of those six terrible years with a mock fight. You couldn’t relive that time differently. You couldn’t undo the decisions they’d made. And she wouldn’t if she could because then she wouldn’t have Casey. You couldn’t do a goddamned thing about what had been, except learn to live with it.
 

Those years, hard as they were, had made her strong. They’d made Kit strong, too. Perhaps, just maybe, they were coming together with more strength having been apart than if their past had been different. Perhaps their hell had been a gift.

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she ignored it. She opened her eyes and looked up at Kit. Lifting her chin, she asked, “So you forfeit?”

He smiled. “Everything I have. Everything I am. My heart. My soul. My body. I forfeit to you.”

She reached up to hold his face. “Make love to me.”

Heat flashed through Kit like an electrical shock. He leaned forward and kissed her as his hands ripped at his gloves. Dropping them on the ground, he pulled his mask from the top of his head and tossed it in the direction of the back of the Jeep, never breaking contact with her mouth. He pulled the Velcro straps on his vest, then moved away from her long enough to slip it over his head. Another quick pause as he took his long-sleeved tee off. He was back again quickly enough to catch her giggle against his mouth when he kissed her.

He hooked a hand around her neck, holding her against his face as he yanked at his boot laces. When they were loosened, he kicked them off and dropped his trousers. He was rocking a hard-on that pulled at the elastic waist of his black boxer briefs. He went around to the back of the Jeep and withdrew a sleeve of rubbers, which he draped over the side panel.

“You’ve got way too much on,” he said, grinning as he opened the straps on her vest and pulled it off. Then, as fast as their hands could go, they peeled off her layers of clothes until she stood before him in her black bra and panties and footie socks.