Whispers in the Dark (22 page)

Still, Shea waited until they were on the road and Nathan reached over to touch her arm.

“You can sit up now.”

“Where will we go?” she asked as she pushed the blanket down her legs.

“I want to turn south and head back toward Crescent City. The jet is hangared at the airport there and is the most expedient method of travel, not to mention the safest if we can manage to get there in one piece.”

“We can’t leave yet! We don’t know if Grace is here. Or where she is. We need to be able to watch that surveillance footage.”

“I said I want us there so we have that option,” he said calmly. “I’m going to call my brothers in. I sent the footage to Donovan. I just hope to hell it was all uploaded before they blew the shit out of that room.”

“Who were they, Nathan? I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of it. No normal people come into a house and blow a hole in the wall. They looked…military.”

His expression tightened. His face darkened into a cloud and his eyes took on a brooding heat. “They certainly looked professional.”

“I’m scared. If these people are military, what chance do we have against them?”

Nathan dropped one hand from the wheel and reached for Shea’s hand. Her fingers trembled against his palm and he squeezed, unsure of what to say to reassure her.

Hell yes, they’d looked military. Black ops. Off the books. Just like KGI. Who knew who was running the show, but they damn sure meant business.

Shea stiffened as if just remembering something and then pulled out the small leather journal that she’d found in the tunnel. She ran her finger over the surface, a mixture of grief and uncertainly in her eyes.

“You can turn the light on. It won’t bother me,” he said softly. It was getting dark enough that he doubted she’d be able to read for long in the fading light.

She let out a sigh that was tinged with sadness. “I don’t want to draw that much notice. I’ll read it when we get to wherever we’re going.” Then she glanced up. “Are we getting a room? What are we doing exactly?”

“I’ll get us a room. Not the same place as before. Then I’m going to call my brothers. After we talk, you and I will decide—together—what our next step will be.”

She stared at him in a way that made him want to pull the jeep over, forget the danger they were in and haul her into his arms.

It was like he hung the damn moon, and all he could think was that he’d damn near gotten her killed because he hadn’t listened to his first instinct, which was to get her as far away as possible and lock her in the deepest, most secure vault he could find.

“Thank you,” she said in a sweet, husky voice. “It means a lot when you say
we
. It makes me feel like I’m not quite so alone. It makes me not quite so afraid.”

A possessive snarl rose to his lips. He had to swallow it back. This caveman reaction he had around her was baffling. It took over his senses and rendered him incapable of rational thought where she was concerned.

Getting so crazy over a woman simply wasn’t him. He liked—no, he loved—women. He mostly understood them or at least he knew the right things to say and when to keep his mouth shut.

He never had a shortage of women friends or even sexual partners. At least before his captivity. But none ever commanded this overwhelming insanity that seemed to grip him when he was with her. Hell, not even with her. All he had to do was think about her.

“It’s going to be
we
from now on,” he bit out. “There is no
you
. No
me
. Only
us
.”

Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened but then shut as if she had no idea how to respond to his directive. Good. Some things she just needed to accept. This was one of them.

Their lives—their souls—had been inexorably entwined from the moment she slid into his mind. There was no easy way to separate her from him, and he had no desire to try.

He wasn’t some helpless captive. It wasn’t like he had no choice and was stuck with this connection to Shea. He wanted her with every part of his heart, mind and body. The connection that had been forged in hell was only growing stronger the more time they spent together physically and mentally.

“We have a few hours yet. I know you’re pretty keyed up, but is there any chance you can rest? Are those cuts bothering you?”

In response, she frowned and lifted her fingers to touch the nicks and cuts on her neck. The blood had long since dried and her obvious puzzlement told him that she hadn’t even realized she’d been injured.

There was one particularly long gash where a larger piece of glass had caught her. The blood was still wet there. It didn’t look too serious but it needed cleaning and possibly a stitch or two.

“I’m fine,” she murmured. “Not sure I can sleep, but I’ll
try.”

“We’ll figure this out, Shea. My brothers are the best there is at what they do. We’ll find Grace. We’ll find out who’s behind this.”

“I want to believe you, Nathan. I want it more than anything. I’m trying. I trust you more than I trust anyone.”

“I know, baby. Soon this will all be over and we can focus on more important things.”

She raised one eyebrow but he left the statement dangling. She knew damn well he referred to him and her, but now wasn’t the time to press further. He’d let her know she belonged to him. For now it was enough.

CHAPTER 23

 
NATHAN
pulled off at a rustic lodge situated on Lake Talawa. He left Shea in the jeep and went inside to inquire about vacancies. There were several empty cabins situated along the shoreline and one deeper into the woods, away from the others. The clerk jokingly referred to it as the honeymooners’ lodge.

Nathan played along, grinning his delight over being afforded privacy. He made the appropriate jokes about getting away for a few days, took the keys and then hurried back out to Shea.

The road leading back to the cabins was narrow and dusty. The moon shimmered over the water, reminding him of home. In other circumstances, he’d be thrilled to be on the lake. Throw back a few beers with his brothers. Do a little fishing. Be lazy and talk about old times.

In truth he wasn’t looking forward to a reunion with his brothers. They were going to be understandably pissed that he’d taken off. Not just taken off on his own, but appropriated a KGI jet in the process. Yeah, Sam was going to have a kitten over that one.

But if they could help him keep Shea safe, he’d take whatever ass kicking they wanted to dole out.

He parked behind the cabin so the jeep was out of sight. Then he gathered his gear, motioned for Shea to get out, and they headed toward the dark cabin.

Soon they were inside. It was a little musty but otherwise clean. It had all the basics, but Nathan didn’t plan to be here long enough to worry over whether the kitchen was stocked.

His first priority was to see to Shea. She looked shell-shocked. Her eyes were glazed, whether in pain or confusion, he wasn’t sure.

“You need to hit the shower,” he told her. “I need to take a look at those cuts. One of them looks pretty bad.”

She lifted the backpack that contained the new clothes they’d purchased and shuffled toward the bathroom. Exhaustion and adrenaline letdown radiated from her. Imminent crash. He saw it coming a mile away.

He followed her inside the bathroom and found her sitting on the closed toilet seat, her shoulders sagging. She looked so damn vulnerable, but he knew her to be anything but. Okay, so maybe she was vulnerable, but she definitely wasn’t a shrinking violet. She was a big surprise in a little package. Fierce and unafraid to get the job done.

His admiration for her grew with every passing minute he spent with her.

He tossed his bag onto the counter and then knelt in front of her, gathering her hands in his. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I will be. I promise. I’m not freaking out on you, Nathan.”

He smiled. “I never thought you were. Can you take that shirt off? I need to get a look at those cuts. You caught several shards to the back as well. Cut ribbons into your shirt.”

She glanced up in surprise and then tried to turn to look over her shoulder. It didn’t surprise him that she didn’t realize the extent of the cuts. She likely hadn’t felt a thing at the time. But now that she was coming down, she would start feeling the discomfort.

Carefully he peeled away her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her breasts bobbed free of constraint, soft and so plush. He stood and glanced down her back, relieved to see only knicks and shallow cuts along her shoulder blades.

There was one cut in the curve of her neck, running over the ridge of her neck. That was the one he suspected needed stitches. The rest could be cleaned, medicated and allowed to heal without dressing.

“You’ll be okay taking a shower on your own?”

She gave him a disgruntled look and then waved him away.

“When you get out, stay undressed long enough for me to take care of those cuts.”

She nodded and rose to turn on the shower. Taking his cue, he left the bathroom and went into the living room to call his brothers.

He turned on his cell phone, ignoring the cacophony of notifications of voice mails, missed calls and text messages. Still, the most recent message, from Joe, caught his eye and he clicked to read the full text.

You’re pissing me off, bro. We’ve never worked like this. You’re holding out on me. Since when did we ever keep shit from each other?

Joe was right, and it didn’t make Nathan feel any better to know he’d hurt his twin. Joe might sound all pissed off, but deep down he was hurt over Nathan’s avoidance and, worse, his refusal to tell Joe what was going on.

He sighed. It would end now, but it might not be enough to make up for the last months in his brother’s eyes. It had taken him the entire drive to work up the nerve and figure out exactly what he wanted to say and in the end, he still didn’t know how to explain it all. He had to just believe his brothers would take his word on faith.

He punched in Sam’s number, irritated with how nervous it made him to make that call.

“It’s about goddamn time,” Sam snapped as he answered the phone. “What’s going on, Nathan? Are you all right? And where’s my goddamn plane?”

Nathan grinned at the pissiness in Sam’s voice, because despite the anger, there was a deep thread of worry and relief coming through loud and clear. He thought of all the things he’d decided to say, but the only thing that came to his lips was the simple truth.

“I…I need your help, Sam.”

“Was that so goddamn hard?”

Nathan’s brow wrinkled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Sam sighed. “Was it so goddamn hard to ask your family for help?”

“Look, I know I’ve been difficult. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t give a shit about that. Tell me what you need. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Really. But Shea’s not. She—we—need help.”

There was a long silence. “And Shea is…?”

“She saved me, Sam. She’s the one who sent Van the emails. I can’t even go into all she did for me. You’d never believe me anyway. But she’s in trouble and we need help.”

“Tell me where you are,” Sam said sharply.

“In a cabin on Lake Talawa. About eleven miles south of the Oregon border. Last cabin on the path past the sign for the campsites. Place is called Wilderness Camping ‘with all the modern conveniences,’ or something like that.”

“Sit tight. And don’t move.”

The line went dead and Nathan ruefully put the phone down. Just like Sam. Few words. To the point. And always with the orders.

He fiddled with the phone for a moment, contemplating the urge to call Joe. Guilt weighed heavily on him. The one person he should have called first was the one person who’d have to receive the news from Sam.

He tossed aside the phone again because what the hell was he supposed to say? Joe would have to understand. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t, but right now Nathan’s focus was on Shea. It had to be. Shea didn’t have the support network that Nathan had. She had no one. Just him and, by proxy, his family.

The bathroom door opened and Shea padded out, a towel wrapped around her slender body. In that moment he felt like the biggest asshole on earth because he wasn’t thinking about tending her cuts. All he could think about was pulling the towel away and wrapping himself around her as tightly as he could.

His dick agreed because, as she neared him, it swelled painfully against his jeans.

She stopped in front of him and then moved into his space, positioning herself between his splayed knees. She was so close, he could smell the scent of her soap. Light and floral. He leaned in closer, inhaling as his mouth hovered just above where the towel covered her breasts.

He touched her legs and then ran his hands up her thighs underneath the towel until he cupped her rounded bottom. Only when he glanced higher to see the ragged edge of the more serious cut on her shoulder did he let his hands fall.

“You make me forget what I’m supposed to be doing.”

She leaned toward him, allowing the towel to slip the barest amount. If anything, it made her look even more alluring and vulnerable, standing before him, her eyes soft, her curves barely hidden by the scrap of damp material barely clinging to her body.

Her lips hovered just above his as she stared down at him. And then she pressed her mouth to his. Warm. A shock to his senses.

She framed his face in her hands, and it took him a moment to realize that the towel had slipped down her body and pooled at her feet.