Next of Kin (18 page)

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Authors: Sharon Sala

BOOK: Next of Kin
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Thirteen

 

B
y the time night came to the mountain, Beth had gone through something of a transformation. The first shot of fear had passed, leaving her feeling fatalistic. She was beginning to understand that whatever was coming, she would eventually have to face.

Quinn had disappeared right after the phone call, and she was worried about the effect on his fragile state of mind if this came to actual gunfire. She was also debating with herself about whether to call Agent Ames or not. There were still some minutes left on her throwaway phone, so it wouldn’t be traceable if she kept her calls short, but it was the thought of being tracked down by Ike Pappas’s killers that settled the decision.

They’d already had their supper and Ryal was taking a bath when Beth got the phone and went outside on the back porch, hoping for a good signal. The sky was clear and the moon was full. Her daddy would have said it was a good night for running the dogs. As she settled down on the porch swing to make the call, she heard an owl hoot from a nearby tree, and a few moments later she heard another one call from farther away. She wondered what owls said to each other on a nightly basis, then knew if she was wondering about what owls discussed, she was definitely delaying the inevitable.

She made the call.

It rang four times before he answered.

“This is Ames.”

“It’s me. Beth Venable.”

“How are you?”

“Still alive. Is there any news?”

“Not yet.”

“No arrest? No talk of indictment?”

“No arrest, but there’s talk. So far that’s all it is, though.”

“My time might be running out,” Beth said.

“What do you mean? Where are you? Are you in danger again?”

“I’m fine so far, but I won’t be forever. Make something happen soon.”

“It’s not my call,” Ames said. “Please come back. Let us help you.”

“No. I’ll call again.”

Beth hung up, dejected and disappointed, then heard the hinges squeak on the screen door and looked up. Ryal was wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else.

“You heard?” she asked.

“Yes. I take it nothing has changed.”

Even though it was dark, he saw her shoulders slump.

“Don’t be discouraged. It hasn’t been long.”

She nodded but wouldn’t look up for fear she’d start crying. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want pity. She wanted to be happy. She made herself focus on something else.

“Have you talked to Quinn?”

“Yeah. He’s okay.”

“Is he coming back tonight?”

“No.”

“Is there something else I should know?”

“Does the fact that I want to make love to you count?”

She heard passion as well as uncertainty in his voice, and knew the latter was something only time could erase. She smiled.

“I already knew that, and yes, it counts.”

Ryal pulled her up from the swing and into his arms. “They’re playing our song,” he said, and began slow-dancing her up and down the length of the old porch.

The only things Beth could hear were bullfrogs and crickets. The absurdity of it made her smile, but the tenderness with which he was holding her stole her heart. For the first time in years she was happy, and she kept wondering why it had taken a tragedy for her to come back to the place where she was born.

She leaned back against Ryal’s arm and looked up to meet his gaze.

“It’s a little dark out here.”

“It’s never dark when I’m with you. You are my sunshine, Bethie. I will be forever disappointed in myself that I let other people control what happened in our lives.”

“I was just as complicit,” she said.

Ryal stopped moving, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her hard against him. His breath was warm against her face, his lips demanding. When they finally paused to take a breath, he swung her up off her feet and into his arms.

Beth gasped, then laughed. “Where are we going?”

“The music is over. It’s time for bed.”

Beth laid her head against his shoulder as he carried her back into the house and into their bedroom, then put her down.

“I’ll lock up,” he said.

Beth put her hand in the middle of his chest, where his heartbeat was the loudest, and felt the rock-steady thud beneath her palm.

“I won’t be long in the bathroom,” she said.

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes, I’ll be waiting when you come out.”

As she headed for the bathroom, she could hear the sound of Ryal’s footsteps moving through the house, checking windows and doors.

She took a quick bath, then slipped across the hall in the dark. The door to Ryal’s room was ajar. She walked inside, closing it quietly behind her.

His jeans were hanging over the back of a chair, and he was standing at the window looking out at the surrounding forest, completely nude. When he heard the creak of the old door as it swung inward, he turned around.

She saw his erection, and then he came toward her as she crawled up on the bed and rocked back on her knees.

Ryal paused to look his fill. Her skin glowed like alabaster in the ambient moonlight. For him, she was woman personified, from her slender body and long legs to the lushness of her breasts. He heard a catch in her breathing and knew she was anticipating this as much as he was.

“What do you want, Lilabeth?”

“To know if this means as much to you as it does to me.”

“If you’re looking for forever, you’ve come to the right place. Does that answer your question?”

“Yes. Make love to me, Ryal.”

His answer was a sigh as he climbed into bed beside her and pulled her down into his arms.

Once he’d been the beginning and end of her world. She wanted that back and more.

Ryal slid a hand beneath her hair and pulled her close. Her mouth opened beneath the pressure of his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her skin was like silk to the touch as he cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger until she moaned from the pleasure.

He tore his mouth from her lips, then moved to the hollow at the base of her throat, pressing kisses all the way down the front of her body until he reached the juncture of her thighs.

At that point he parted the velvety folds and leaned closer.

The rush of blood that shot through Beth was like being struck by lightning. Breath caught in the back of her throat as her body reacted. She had a moment’s impression that she was about to take flight and grabbed onto Ryal’s shoulders for an anchor. Rational thought was gone. All she wanted was for that mind-bending heat building in her belly to never end. And for a while, she got her wish. One minute rolled into another and then another, while sweat beaded on their skin and the old bed thumped against the wall in rhythm to their lovemaking. She rode the pulse-pounding throb as if it was a rocket to heaven, until it blew up, taking her with it.

The moan that came up her throat was what Ryal had been waiting for. He parted her legs and slid inside her before the orgasm was over, then began to ride it with her. The tiny quivers pulsing around him were like aphrodisiacs. He’d been hard and hurting too long to bother maintaining control. He thrust hard and fast while she met and matched him. Within moments a second orgasm exploded inside her.

Ryal buried his face in the curve of her neck and let go, spilling his seed in one spasm after another, until he was spent and shaking. He rolled over onto his back, taking her with him until she was sprawled on top of his body. He kept thinking,
How have I lived all these years without her?

Beth was stunned by the flood of emotions. There was too much on the line to wait for the perfect moment. She’d learned the hard way that some people never have a tomorrow. She rose up and looked down into his face.

“I love you, Ryal. I’m saying it because I want you to know, in case this doesn’t turn out the way we want it to.”

Ryal chuckled as his arms tightened around her. “Ah, God, Bethie…you would say all this when I’m so damn weak I can barely breathe. I love you, too. More than I thought possible. I touch you, and it feels like the years we lost never happened. And just for the record, nothing is going to happen to you. Your daddy’s people are looking out for you. Your mother’s people are looking out for you. That’s close to half the population of Rebel Ridge. No stranger will set foot here without one of us knowing it first. Understood?”

“Understood,” Beth said, and kissed him.

Ryal groaned beneath his breath as the need for her rose within him again, but this time they took it slow and easy all the way.

The Pappas lodge near the San Gabriel Mountains wasn’t really a lodge as lodges go. There were no hunting trophies hanging on the walls, no pelts decorating the floor as rugs. Just the fireplace and the massive mantel. The rest of the two-story structure was a little too elegant to qualify. The walls in the kitchen were a soft butter-yellow. The rest of the walls through the house were the color of old ivory. The furniture was soft leather in varying shades of brown with gold accents. The same colors were picked up throughout the house by throw pillows, curtains and shades. It was beautiful, but a little too classy for Adam’s taste. He remembered when his mother had been with them; back then, the place had been a fun, lively place to be. Now it felt hollow—almost sterile.

His arm was throbbing where he’d stabbed himself with the knife, but he refused to take the pain pills the doctor had provided. Guilt over what he’d caused was eating him alive. He’d known his mother wanted him to go straight, yet he’d ignored the one thing he could have given her—and it had cost her life. After all he’d learned, he was certain his father had murdered her to keep her from making good on her threat.

There was a part of him that felt like a child. His mommy was dead, and his daddy was a bad man. But he couldn’t go there, because he’d known most of his life what his father was capable of. He’d just never thought he would ever be on the receiving end of that grief.

He glanced at the clock, and then palmed a couple of the antibiotic pills and chased them with a big drink of cola. He eyed the pain pills, but again wouldn’t allow himself the relief. He needed to be sharp, not drugged out of his mind. He had no idea what time his father would return from New York City, but he knew when he did, the shit would hit the fan.

Beatrice would tell his father he’d been there. Ike would be shocked, then incensed, and even more importantly, he would recognize the anger behind what his son had done. Adam hadn’t decided if he would answer the call when it came. He might make his father sweat. The bastard deserved to be worried.

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