Stolen: A Novel of Romantic Suspense (3 page)

“You’re shitting me.”

“No.” A title caught her eye and she reached for the book. Skimming the blurb, she pursed her lips. It actually sounded almost intriguing. She dropped the book into the basket by her feet, but when she went to grab the handle, Elliot already had it.

“I can carry a few books,” she pointed out.

“So can I. And I didn’t just get out of the hospital.” The resolute look on his face made it clear that arguing with him wasn’t going to do much good.

It never really had.

Still, she had to at least try. “I didn’t
just
get out. I left the hospital a few days ago.”

“Yes. And you spent nearly a week in a coma, several days in ICU, and another week recovering. I’m carrying the damn basket,” he said. He paused and then added, “You know … I would have come down to be with you … Hell. If I’d known it was that bad, they wouldn’t have been able to keep me away. I figured you’d call if you wanted me around. If you’d called, I would have been there.”

Shay swallowed. “I know you would have. But we’re not together anymore, right?”

“Does that mean you can’t need a friend with you?” He touched her shoulder.

That light touch sent her heart skittering around in her chest, a mad little dance that made her breathless. Breathing was already difficult. Being near him made it so much worse.

“We’re not friends, though, are we, Elliot?” she said quietly.

“So not dating means we can’t be friends?”

“You didn’t want to be friends.” She hugged herself tightly and closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see the truth in them. She couldn’t handle being friends with him anyway. It would hurt too much. “You just wanted us to be over, remember? You said we were done. So we’re done. Besides, I managed okay.”

“Always gotta be so tough, huh, Shay?”

No
. Miserable, she gave him her back and circled around the back edge of the store. She wasn’t tough at all. She was miserable and lonely and she wished like
hell she could be what he needed, give him what he wanted. She just didn’t know
how
.

At the back of the store, she headed for the fantasy section, bypassing the romance. Once upon a time, it had been her first stop in the store.

“A couple of your favorite writers had books out last week. Don’t you want those?”

“I’m not much into romance these days.” Depressing as hell, reading about a happily-ever-after when it was painfully clear she wasn’t very likely to find one. She’d have to settle for a humdrum-ever-after. Besides, as grim and moody as she was these days, she found herself connecting to action or gore or violence better.

Stopping in front of the shelves featuring the newest releases, she studied them, all too aware of Elliot standing at her back. “You’ve probably got business to do, paperwork and all that crap. You can go back to it.”

“Thanks for your permission,” he murmured.

A warm hand settled low on her back. As he bent his head, Shay shivered at the feel of him.
Damn it
. Coming in here had been a BFM. Big fucking mistake. She should have just waited in the car …

“I miss you.”

Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Don’t.”

His lips brushed across the side of her brow. “Don’t what? Tell you that I miss you? Miss us?”

“Us?” She laughed hollowly as she turned to face him. “There
is
no us, remember? You said that. There’s
me
 … and there’s
you
 … and sometimes we’re together, but there’s no
us
.”

His gaze held hers. “I never wanted it to be that way. And maybe there was more of an
us
than I realized. Seeing you …” He paused, took a deep breath. “Seeing you just drives that home.”

Those intense, hypnotic eyes held hers. Her heart kicked up a few beats, stealing her breath away. As he
started to dip his head, Shay stood there, frozen.
Shit. What now
 …

His mouth, so warm, brushed against hers. She gasped and then almost wished she hadn’t as he used that opportunity to tease the inside of her lips with his tongue, moving deeper and deeper. His hands came around her waist, tugging her closer.

This is a bad idea …

The warning was already screaming in her head. She couldn’t give him what he needed. And he couldn’t accept what she had to give. They would just hurt each other again—

Tearing her mouth away, Shay ducked to the side. “We … we can’t do this.” She pressed a hand to her buzzing lips. “I’m just getting to the point where I’m used to going through the days without you calling. I’m just getting to where I can pass a few nights without dreaming about you.”
Liar
.

Well, she
did
manage to go a few nights, she told herself. Usually, on
those
nights, she had nightmares, but so what? She wasn’t dreaming of Elliot, and that was all that counted, right?

“Shay …” He reached up and touched her shoulder.

But she didn’t want to hear what he had to say. She wasn’t going through this again. She wasn’t whole inside and she had to accept that and stop pretending otherwise, and it fucking
hurt
.

Stooping down, she grabbed the basket of books from where he’d placed them on the floor. Without looking back at him, she headed for the front of the store.

She had to get out of here. She could pay for her damn books and meet Lorna at the Italian place. It was two doors down—she could walk two fucking doors.

Maybe not
well
. She was already weaving a little, lethargy and weakness still pervading her body, but she damn well wasn’t going to linger—

She stumbled, her feet all but giving out under her. Crashing into a book dump just next to her, she flung out a hand, but there was nothing to grab. Books from the display went flying and just before she would have crashed to the floor, a pair of strong, steady hands gripped her waist. “I’ve got you,” Elliot murmured.

I’ve got you …

The room stopped spinning around her, even though her legs still felt like spaghetti noodles. Her heart slowed back down to its normal speed for a few seconds before embarrassment settled in. Swallowing, she closed her eyes and reached for some level of control.

Stumbling all over the place.

Running away from Elliot.

She needed to get herself together.

Sucking in a desperate draught of air, she blew it back out. Carefully, she eased away from Elliot, checking her legs. Okay, she could walk. This was good.

Grimacing at the book dump she’d knocked over, she opened her mouth to apologize. The display had been holding a
lot
of books, she thought inanely. Foil lettering on one of them caught her eyes.

Familiar lettering the shade of blood.

Familiar …

Her stomach dropped to her knees, and the waning strength in her abused body disappeared. Sinking to the floor, she reached out to touch one of the books.

“Shay, I’ll pick it up,” Elliot said.

His voice seemed to come to her from a tunnel. Her blood roared in her ears and black dots danced in front of her eyes for a long, ugly second.
Stop it, Shay—breathe!

No more panic attacks. She didn’t do panic attacks anymore.

She looked down at the book in her hands—a book
with a gold foil sticker on the top right corner that read,
Signed by the author!

Touching that sticker, she swallowed.

No.

This … this wasn’t happening.

There was no way the author signed books here.

Ever
.

He’d never seen Shay look
that
pale before.

Considering she had a milk-pale complexion, that was saying quite a bit, too.

He hunkered down next to her and reached out, touching his fingers to her cheek. There were still bruises there. The sight of them flooded him with fury and pain, and the need to touch her,
really
touch her, was almost overwhelming. Touch her to assure himself that she really was okay. Touch her … and try to convince her that she could trust him. Come back to him.

But it wouldn’t happen. He should know that by now.

“Shay … it’s okay,” he said tiredly, watching the way her hands trembled as she scooped up one of the books. “I’ll take care of it.”

She jerked her gaze to his, but he had the weirdest feeling she wasn’t seeing him. There was a glassy, disconnected look in her eyes, one that had him worried. Hell, should she even be out of the hospital?

“Can you stand?” he asked quietly.

Two seconds later, she was lurching to her feet, clutching one of the Shane Neil books she’d picked up from the floor. “I need to go home.”

She barely made it halfway upright before she wobbled again. Scowling, he rose to his feet and steadied her. “I think you should sit down. Eat. Have a drink or something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Her head swung to the left, then the right.

Searching for Lorna, he knew. “You’re never hungry. Maybe that’s why you’re feeling so awful.”

“No.” And to his surprise, she started to laugh.

It was a harsh, ugly sound … one that hurt him just to hear it.

“I need to go
home
,” she said again.

She still clutched the book. He stared at it and then shifted his gaze up to her face.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

Something’s off
. Those dark eyes of hers, a color caught between the dusky purple of a twilight sky and the darkening navy of the coming night, stared into his, and he could see her trying to hide it.

She was afraid.

He could see it as clearly as he could see the bruises on her face, and the faint scars along her left cheek.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said softly.
Please, damn it … for once, will you talk to me?

Her lips parted. Something flitted across her face.

His heart skipped a beat as she took a deep breath and looked down at the books all over the floor.

Then the bell over the door rang and the moment shattered.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said hoarsely. “I just need to go.”

It was a lie. He knew it. And she knew he knew.

But still, she turned on her heel and slowly, carefully, made her way to the counter.

Once more, she’d pulled away.

It was why they’d broken up.

It was why he never should have kissed her.

Setting his jaw, he crouched down to gather up the books. It wasn’t until he heard the bell over the door again that he looked back to the front of the store. She was gone.

He righted the book dump and put all the books back
in place, positioning Neil’s latest release at the top, the gold foil of the autograph sticker displayed.

“Hey, where’s Shay?”

Looking up, he saw Lorna heading his way. He jerked his head toward the door. “Outside. Upset. She won’t tell me why. Maybe she’ll tell you.”

Although he wasn’t counting on it. She didn’t open up for his sister any easier than she opened up for him.

Lorna’s face fell and he sighed. “Lorna … it’s no good. We tried, but it just isn’t going to work.”

As she walked off, he tried to convince himself of the same thing. He’d seen her. Seen for himself that she’d come through the wreck okay. And he’d seen for himself that, without a doubt, Shay wasn’t any closer to changing
now
than she’d been a few months back.

That was why they’d ended.

That was why they had to
stay
ended.

He started to go back to his office but stopped when the toe of his battered hiking boot kicked something. Looking down, he saw the basket with all of the books Shay had picked out.

She’d left without her books.

But she’d been at the cash register …

Frowning, he called out, “Hey, Becca … did Shay buy anything?”

“Yep. A book by the thriller guy you like—Shane Neil’s newest.”

Shane Neil.

Shay didn’t read him. Hooking his hand over the back of his neck, he continued to stare at her books. He’d tried before to get her to read the Neil books—they had similar tastes—but Shay had told him, more than once, she wasn’t interested in reading any of them.

But she’d just bought one …?

THREE

S
HAY HAD BARELY STEPPED FOOT INSIDE HER HOUSE
when the phone started to ring.

She ignored it.

“You want me to get that for you?” Lorna offered from behind her.

Glancing over her shoulder, Shay shook her head. “No, the machine can get it. And see? I’m fine. I made it up the steps and everything.”

Sure, she’d shuffled and shambled along like a zombie, but so what? People really didn’t give zombies enough credit.

“It was too soon for us to try and do lunch,” Lorna said quietly. “I’m sorry. You should have been resting. What did the doctor say? You’re acting awfully weird. Are you sure everything is okay?”

Okay?
A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat, but she fought it back down.
No, nothing is okay right now, but I’ll deal. I’ll fix it. I just need to be alone for a while
.

Instead of saying that, she made her way into the kitchen. She wanted to sit, but if she sat down, she’d have to fight herself to get back on her feet and she had things to do once she got Lorna out of here.