Jagged Hearts (15 page)

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Authors: Lacey Thorn

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BOOK: Jagged Hearts
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“This time, I’ll do the right thing,” Vivian said from above her.

Paisley blinked again and saw her mother’s wavering form, one hand holding a gun. She whimpered at the pain in her head and struggled to find the strength to move. She didn’t want it to end like this. She’d just started to live again.

“This time, I’ll be the grieving mother,” Vivian jeered. “Kidnapped along with my daughter, forced to watch her tortured and killed, helpless to prevent it. The press will eat it up. They’ll all clamor for me. Your little press conference will be forgotten as they all vie for my attention, begging me to share my story. You’ll be far more valuable to me when you’re dead. I wish I would have realized it five years ago.”

Paisley’s vision faded. She’d spent too much time mourning the past and not nearly enough grabbing at the future. And now, she’d lose it all. Bare. Her father. A chance for happiness. All because she’d never noticed the lengths her mother would go to just to get what she wanted.

“Bare,” she whispered, and for a moment, she thought she saw him framed in the doorway behind Vivian.

“I’m sure he’ll move on quickly,” her mother vowed and lifted the gun, pointing it at Paisley’s head.

She blinked her eyes closed, bringing an image of Bare to her mind. She wanted him to be the last person she saw before she died. She felt tears mixing with the blood she knew already coated her face. This time, when the blackness beckoned, she let go, succumbing to its pull. She heard the shot of the gun, but blessedly felt nothing as the world slipped away.

* * * *

Bare’s heart stopped as he heard the sound of gunfire from the house. He jumped the body of an unconscious, trussed up male and slammed the door open, gun drawn as he dropped to a crouch just inside. He faced off with Seth. They both shifted their guns back down at the same time.

“Over here,” Seth told him.

“Paisley?” Bare asked, hurrying over.

“She’s alive. She’s got a cut on the left temple. It’s bleeding pretty good. Knot on the back of her head. Probably still suffering from the chloroform the guy out there used on her. My phone’s still synced in the car so Levi could track me. We need to call nine-one-one.”

Bare holstered his gun and jerked his phone free from the belt clip. He tossed it to Seth before hitting his knees beside Paisley. He spared one glance for Vivian, just long enough to know she’d never bother Paisley again. He heard Seth on the phone as he moved out of the room, but his complete attention was on the woman lying far too still beside him.

“Paisley, I don’t know if you can hear me or not. I’m here, baby. I’m here, and I’m not leaving your side.”

Seth walked back in and tossed him a kitchen towel, and he pressed it tight against the bleeding wound on her head. He took hold of one of her hands with the other, lacing his fingers through hers and squeezing her palm against his.

“From what I heard, her mom was the one behind the whole thing,” Seth said.

“Her mom had her brought here?” Bare asked.

“Yeah,” Seth answered. “But she did more than that.”

“The attack,” Bare said, his heart breaking for Paisley.

“The attack five years ago and the shooting a few days ago,” Seth said. “She admitted it to Paisley. I heard it while I was tying up the guy in the garage. Knocked him out but didn’t want to take the chance of him waking up while I was occupied. Heard most of it, though. I stepped in as soon as I could. Vivian admitted she’d set up the murder that night, and had Paisley stabbed to eliminate the baby. Thought Paisley would turn to her for comfort.”

“Jesus,” Bare muttered. “Her own fucking mother! Christ!” He let his glance slide over Paisley’s face. This would hit her hard, knowing Lance was dead because of Vivian.

“Paisley!” Jamison yelled as he entered the room with Tuck tight on his tail, arm immobilized in a sling.

“She’s alive,” Bare said, seeing Jamison’s face go white under his tan.

“What happened here?” Jamison demanded, and Bare focused on Paisley while Seth went through the story again.

Tuck bent down by Vivian, taking a few seconds to slip her eyes closed before moving over to stand by where Jamison had gone down to his knees on Paisley’s other side.

“She’ll be okay,” Tuck said, placing a hand on Jamison’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

“She has to be,” Bare asserted, desperate to press his strong will onto her.

“She’s a survivor,” Jamison said.

“No,” Bare countered. “She’s a fighter.”

“That she is,” Tuck agreed.

Jagger showed up next with Sterling. Then Rusty ambled in followed closely by policemen and finally EMTs. Bare tossed his keys to Sterling and went in the ambulance with Paisley. He wasn’t leaving her. He’d planned to pull back a little bit to give her time to adjust to the two of them as a couple before pressing her into moving in. Those plans were gone. As soon as she was okay and ready to leave the hospital, he was taking her home and keeping her there. Forever sounded just long enough.

Chapter Fourteen

Six weeks later…

Paisley was still contending with the media storm following her mother’s death and the bombshell that Vivian had been the one behind the attack that had left Lance dead and Paisley clinging to life. It was a lot to take in. The man Vivian had hired was officially behind bars, which meant Paisley no longer had to wonder if the attacker was coming back for her. She was safe.

Bare had also informed her Vivian had been essentially broke, which made no sense to Paisley. She knew the kind of money Vivian had pulled in over the last five years. Still, it turned out her mother had gotten in over her head financially. She’d been frantically scrambling to make ends meet and cover all her debts. Paisley still wasn’t sure where all the money had been going, but Gilly was digging into it for her. He said he liked the challenge.

Paisley had days where she woke up, thinking it was all a dream. But it wasn’t. It was reality, her reality. Thank God for Bare. He was her source of unwavering strength and support. Her rock. They were basically living together at this point, and she had no doubt he was the man she’d spend the rest of her life with. He showed her how much he loved her in a million ways, every day.

Every time she woke from a nightmare, he was there beside her, pulling her close and loving her until she fell back to sleep, wrapped in him. He was there in the morning, kissing her awake. There at night, plying her body with orgasms until she was too exhausted to even move. He was always there.

Andromeda had arrived amidst the chaos while Paisley was still in the hospital. The other woman had seized complete control of the media, arranging everything for when Paisley was up to it. She’d fielded questions, given interviews in Paisley’s stead and basically kept everyone at bay until Paisley was ready. And she’d annihilated Vivian in the press, painting a very clear picture of a sociopath who’d manipulated her daughter and ultimately tried to kill her.

“Hey, you okay?” Bare asked as he joined Paisley in the bedroom. They were planning to have dinner with her dad and Tuck tonight, and she’d just stepped out of the shower.

She met his gaze in the mirror when he stepped in behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her back against his chest and cradling her there.

“I called your name twice, baby,” he whispered. “Didn’t you hear me?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, I was just thinking about the interviews Andromeda set up for next week.”

“More of them?” Bare questioned. “How many times do you have to put yourself through this?”

“I’m okay,” she said, turning in his arms, facing him and resting her hands on his chest. “I am. Promise. This will all wrap up soon, and the media storm will die down a bit. But you realize it will all start up again when the book I’m planning comes out. Right? Plus, I’ll have to make the talk show circuit and other interviews.”

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Bare asked, and she knew he was only concerned for her.

“I need to do this,” she admitted.

“None of this is your fault. Vivian did this. Only Vivian.”

“I know,” she vowed, and she really did. She’d gone through a bad moment when she’d blamed herself for Vivian’s actions, but Bare, her father and Tuck hadn’t let her take the blame. They’d made a point of reminding her she was just as much a victim in all this as Lance had been. They were right.

“This book isn’t just for Lance. It’s for me, too. I need to tell the world who Vivian was in my own words. Mine. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, baby. I understand completely, and I support you. You know that.”

She smiled. “I do.” She went up on her toes to give him a soft kiss.

Bare had made a point of setting up a writing nook for her at his house as well as getting an office put together for her at Knight’s Watch. He wanted her to have everything she needed when she was ready to begin. And she finally was. She’d already started sorting through her journals and planned to share some of her personal thoughts and feelings in hopes of helping others who’d loved and lost. The book would have a different ending than she’d originally thought, though, because now, she knew who had been behind everything.

“We don’t have to go tonight,” Bare said. “We all know you’ve had a lot on your mind. No one will blame you for wanting to stay in.”

She laughed. “Of course, we have to go. If not, dad and Tuck will show up here. They’ll hover, and we’ll have no control over when they leave. It could be hours, Bare. I might be so tired by then that I won’t be able to keep my eyes open.” She leaned up again and traced the edge of his jaw with her tongue. “Too exhausted for anything other than falling straight to sleep.”

He lifted her, sitting her ass on the counter and leaning into her. “Maybe, we should go ahead and take the edge off before we go over?”

She grinned. “So you think we should go, now?”

“Definitely,” he said, nuzzling his way up her neck to her mouth. “After.”

He took her under with his kiss, hands moving to tug her robe apart and slide it off her shoulders, revealing her freshly scrubbed skin to his avid gaze. She yanked at his shirt, pulling it free of his jeans and pushing it up until he freed her long enough to rip it over his head and toss it aside. Then his mouth was back, tongue rubbing sensually against hers in a preview of how they’d soon be joined.

His hands were everywhere, plying her nipples into greedy need before skating over her belly then heading even lower. She caught her breath and moaned as he found her clitoris and plucked it between his fingers, making her channel go slick with desire. Hell, he had only to look at her for that to happen.

“Bare,” she moaned again, calling his name this time.

His husky chuckle washed over her as he followed the same path with his mouth, setting her body on fire by the time he replaced his fingers with his lips and sucked. She jerked her hips toward him, and his hands came up to catch her parted thighs, holding her in place while he feasted, wringing cries from her until her throat grew hoarse. Only then did he scoop her up and carry her into the bedroom, dropping her on the bed then quickly discarding his jeans and joining her.

He came over her, the hard length of his cock grazing her skin as he moved up her body. His knees forced her thighs wider, allowing him to settle between them. He reached down between them, guiding his cock to her opening then thrusting inside. He slid both hands up, gripping hers and holding them prisoner beside her head while he made love to her.

“Bare.” She breathed his name out on a sigh of pleasure, and he lowered his head, finding her mouth again.

She loved his kiss, the way he conveyed so much emotion in one simple touch. His kiss told her how much she meant to him, how much he loved her, even more than the words he spoke to her. He slid his lips from hers and nuzzled her throat, rubbing his nose up her neck to her ear where he caught the lobe with his teeth and tugged.

“Harder, Bare,” she begged him. “Faster.”

“Shh,” he crooned. “Let me love you.”

With her hands held prisoner by his, she couldn’t grip his shoulders and dig in her nails to urge him to her pace. The man was driving her crazy with pleasure, and he knew it.

“Please,” she implored, undulating her body against his, again and again. She rubbed her breasts against his chest, her beaded nipples dragging through the spattering of hair covering him. “I need,” she whispered to him. “I burn.”

“I’m burning with you,” he told her.

She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist and rising into his thrusts, grinding against him.

“Harder,” she begged again. “Faster. Please.”

He gave in with a groan, releasing his grip on her hands to slip one hand down to cradle her hip while he braced the other by her shoulder. He pounded into her, setting up a relentless rhythm that had her clutching him, holding tight. This was what she wanted, what she needed. Bare, completely untamed, holding no piece of himself back. Challenging her to meet him thrust for thrust, to surrender to what he offered and pull him under with what she gave.

They were a pair, two jagged hearts that had loved and lost and still managed to remain open to the possibilities. With him, the possibilities were endless.

“Yes,” she cried, climbing higher, edging closer toward orgasm.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, and she caught her breath at the heated look in his eyes.

She moved her hand from his shoulder, sliding under his armpit to scrape her nails along his chest, finding
his
nipple and tweaking it. He jerked against her, his cock slamming deep as he groaned. She used her nails to scratch a path, following the line of hair down his rippling abdomen to the spot their bodies joined. She traced around the base of his shaft, slipping her grip around him and giving a squeeze before moving over to her body.

“You are so incredibly sexy,” he vowed, panting as his gaze trailed her fingers.

“You make me feel sexy,” she confessed. “The way you look at me, touch me. You make me feel as if I’m the only woman in the world.”

Paisley found the nub of her clitoris. She captured it with her fingers, tugged it then rubbed her thumb over the hardened bud, moaning in pleasure.

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