tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23348534152735122102024-03-05T00:30:10.110-08:00ScribblesUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger67125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-23063285544989218142015-05-21T15:09:00.000-07:002015-11-04T10:30:05.760-08:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Fourteen<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Kate
closed her eyes, unexpected rescue warring with sick apprehension. What
was Mitch doing here? Damn the man, he just couldn’t listen. And
thank god for that. She tried to twist toward him, to see him, but could
only catch a glimpse from the corner of her eye before her captor yanked her to
her feet, pulling her against his chest like a shield as he turned to face
Mitch, the knife tip pressing into her throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">There
was a long, tense silence, then Mitch drawled, “Well, if it isn’t Dumbass
Boudreaux.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Hissing
between clenched teeth, the man barked, “It’s Dumas, asshole.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Ignoring
him, Mitch turned his gaze to the other man, eyes skimming quickly over Kate’s
body in passing. “And I see you brought little brother, Roach.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“My
brother’s name is Roche,” the man called Dumas snarled, “and ‘bout time you
showed some respect, all things considered.” His grip tightened in Kate’s
hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> Mitch
had had enough. His head was pounding, his shoulder was on fire and if he
hadn’t locked his knees, he’d already be on the ground. His power play
was all bluster and he was going to lose the game if he didn’t finish this
quick. “Get your hands off the woman and step back, Boudreaux. I’ll
give you half a second then it’s a bullet to the brain. Mood I’m in, this
cluster fuck could go south in a heartbeat with two dead Cajuns laying in the
dirt. You think I’m kidding, try me. Please.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Roche
piped up from somewhere to Kate’s right. “She fucking stabbed me,
Cartwright and kicked my nuts bad. I get a piece of her,” he whined.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Mitch
sighed, deep and long, then shook his head. “Time’s up.” Dumas had
pulled her head back so far she didn’t see Mitch’s movement, but when the
pressure of the knife eased on her throat and Roche suddenly yelled, “No,
wait!” she didn’t hesitate and slammed her head back, catching Dumas hard
on the chin. Twisting out of his grasp, she spun and kicked out, hitting
him behind one knee. As he staggered, she wrenched her knife out of his
hand as he fell and before anyone could do much more than blink, Kate had reversed their
positions, the knife now pressing into the man’s neck as she jammed her knee
between his shoulder blades and yanked his head back with a hard grip under his
chin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Roche
slid off the log, one hand gripping his bloody thigh, the other raised, holding
her pistol. “Tell her to let go of my brother or I’ll shoot you both
dead.” His threat might have been more effective if the gun hadn't been
shaking in his hand. “She kicked me in the balls,” he complained again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Kate’s
eyes had locked on to Mitch the second she had Boudreaux under her blade.
He held the Sig Sauer like an old friend, easy and controlled in his
grip. But he was a mess, all wild-eyed and flushed. Even his
three-day scruff of beard couldn’t hide the deepening grooves of pain furrowing
beside his mouth. His blue eyes were molten, heat like an inferno raging
in the depths, growing hotter as they stared, each assessing the damage to the
other. She didn’t like the feverish glint, or the way he kept clenching
his jaw like he was holding on by sheer will power alone. He was getting
sick, in deep pain, and yet ready to drop, he’d come for her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">No
one had ever done such a thing, not once in her entire life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">One
sharp, knowing moment, and her heart burst right out of her chest, flew across
the space between them, and fell at his feet. While she straddled
Boudreaux, still stunned at the significance of what Mitch had done and what it
meant to her, she heard a sound, so familiar, her head snapped around and a
wide, welcoming smile crossed her face as she took in the force of nature that
was her boy, Menace. All was right with her world now. She flashed
a glance at Mitch, including him in that world. He saw the look, basked
for a moment in the warmth, then saw her smile fade into a scowl as she glared
at him. Anger, worry, and a deeper emotion that Mitch wanted to explore
at his leisure in a big bed with room service and a Do Not Disturb sign on the
doorknob, washed over Kate’s face before she turned back to watch Ace prowling
toward them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Mitch
needed this to be over now. Feeling hazy and unsteady, he wanted Kate’s
hands on him, cooling the heat fogging his head, burning the marrow out of his
bones. And he needed to tend to her injuries, because she had them. He
could tell by the way she was leaning over Boudreaux, slightly favoring one
side, and her neck was bleeding, the narrow trickle of blood curling down into
her shirt, soaking the collar. She had dirt on her face, pine needles and
debris stuck in her hair and she looked tough and beautiful and he just wanted
to lay down with her somewhere, wrap her up tight in his arms and have a nice,
long nap. So, yeah. He was done here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“You
don’t shut up about your balls, Roach, I’m going to hand them to you
myself. And you’d better drop the gun or that pissed off dog behind you
is gonna take you apart.” Mitch shook his head as Roche spun around, took
one look at Ace’s snarling fangs as he padded closer and tossed the gun aside
like it was too hot to hold before scrambling on top of the log.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Then
Mitch eyed Boudreaux. “Okay, here’s how it’s going down. First, you
and Roach leave your weapons here and go back to the swamp and the gators.
You pass along to anyone you might bump into that any interest in this
woman means messing in my business.” He smiled, eyes cold as the heart of
a glacier. Softly, he murmured, “I don’t like people in my business,
Dumbass, don’t like it at all.” Mitch lowered his gun as he
advanced. Kate still had her knife at the man’s throat, so Mitch crouched
on the opposite side and said close to his ear, “You need to find a new line of
work, asshole. You fucking shot at me and were going to murder a
contract. You’re done.” He straightened, held the other man’s
gaze. “And brother, you'd best go deep into that bayou of yours because I
hear a mention of you or your kin and I’m the next knock on your door.”
He nodded to Kate and she pulled back the knife, stood up and went to retrieve
her gun from the ground where Roche had thrown it. Mitch’s voice was a
whispered hiss. “Tried to kill me, Boudreaux. Even if I could let that
slide—which I can’t—my brother won’t.” He eased back, stared down at the
man, his features hard. “For now, you spread the word this woman is my
business and only my business and get the fuck back to the swamp. In the
meantime, I’ll try working on my anger issues.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Back
off, Cartwright,” Boudreaux snapped as he got to his feet. “You know how
much this bitch is worth, you saw the contract and I hear there’s more on the
table than just the retrieval...” Boudreaux drifted to a halt as if
something monumental had just occurred to him. His eyes darted back and
forth between Mitch and Kate, then he smiled, nasty and vile, and bobbed his
head several times. “Ah,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>mon
ami</i>, I should have known. You are a clever, clever man.” He
looked over at Kate, Ace at her side and shook his head, reluctant approval in
his mean eyes. “Beautiful woman to heat the blood, nice bonus, my friend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Mitch
growled. “Dumbass, you and I have never been friends and never will be.
I’m damn sure you’d sell your grandmother for a dollar. I don’t like you
and unless you’re looking to die, don’t ever want to see you again. We’re
done. Take your brother and idiot cousins—I’m guessing the other two
morons you brought are Dwayne and Cletis—and get the fuck gone, all of
you.” His voice was steadily rising. “I’m fucking tired, hungry and
done with this shit. Go. The. Fuck. Away!” The roar at the end of Mitch’s
rant rolled out of the trees and down the valley. It was clear to everyone that
the bear had been poked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Several
minutes later Kate sat with her back to a tree, Ace pressed into her side,
purposefully keeping her distance from the three men arguing across the
clearing. Beside her was a jumble of weaponry, the cause of the argument.
Mitch had confiscated everything from the two men except their compass and now,
as she watched his gestures, listened to the low, deep tone of his voice
barking orders, she was amazed he was still on his feet, though she didn’t
think that would last much longer. She didn’t want to interfere, or
meddle in how Mitch handled the situation, but he was about ready to drop and
she knew he would die standing up before he’d show any weakness in front of the
Cajuns; they still didn’t know how badly he was hurt. She’d give it another minute, then step in,
wave a cookie under his nose or something. The thought made her smile and
he turned his head just then, caught the look on her face and lost track of
everything for a moment as his focus locked on her. Abruptly he
interrupted Boudreaux, who was yammering on about something Mitch didn’t give a
shit about and bluntly said, “Go.” He narrowed his eyes at the two
men. “I’m sending the dog along for the first leg of your hike, so step
lively. He has less patience than I do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“No!
Not the dog!” Roche began to back away as Mitch again looked over at
Kate. She was on her feet, hand on the dog’s head as she met Mitch’s
eyes. There was a silent tug-of-war for a moment, but Kate backed off,
not willing to usurp Mitch’s authority in front of the men, or stop them from
leaving, and though she wasn’t happy to lose Ace again so soon, she lifted her
hand when Mitch whistled for the dog.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Use
this.” Boudreaux handed his brother a large, twisted branch to use as a
crutch. “I'm not waiting, so keep up or the dog gets you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Boudreaux
walked away without a backward glance, Roche stumbling down the slope after
him, their peevish, argumentative voices growing fainter as they went out of
sight. Mitch kept his hand on the dog’s head until it was quiet, then he
lifted Ace’s chin, snapped his fingers once, said “One klick,” and sent Ace
after them. He watched Ace weave silently between the trees, staying
above the trail to shadow the men like a ghost. If all went okay, Ace
should be back in under an hour. It would be full dark by then and Mitch
didn’t know where they were going to make camp, or how much longer he’d be able
to hold out before falling on his face. His head was thumping
erratically, in sync with his stuttering heartbeats, blood from the bullet
wound was seeping out the bandage and down his chest, sticking his tee shirt to
his skin in a soggy, unpleasant mess. And damn, he was tired.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He
turned slowly toward Kate. She was still standing by the tree, but now
she stalked toward him, fire blazing in her eyes, so pissed heat was rolling
off her body like a blast furnace as she came in close. And damn if,
battered, seeing double and bleeding like a stuck pig, he didn’t go hard as a
rock just watching her. Long legs eating up the ground, she came at
him. “You stupid, stupid man! Why aren’t you two miles away, far
from here and safe, instead of weaving on your feet, covered in blood…”
She stopped talking when the toes of her boots rammed into his and she
wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him in, her tongue in his mouth
before he could draw breath. The kiss was wet and hot and filled with a
whole lot of<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>thank god you’re
alive</i>. Panting, Kate broke the kiss, looked up at him, her hand still
at his nape, and in the next moment showed him the future.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Holding
his gaze, she finished her sentence as if they hadn’t just swallowed tongues
and chewed lips. “…and saving my ass just in the nick of time.” Then she
threw her head back and laughed, throaty and wild. And yeah, there it
was. His future. She was dauntless and brave. He knew she’d been
scared, had seen the look on her face just before he stopped the Cajuns from
doing worse to her than the threat of slitting her throat. Yet, even
afraid, she’d been determined, would have fought to the bitter end.
Strong, dangerous, beautiful. So passionate and willing, he’d pretty much had a
nonstop erection since the beginning. And she made the best damned cookies he’d
ever tasted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Another
laugh, softer, gentle, her fingers sliding from his neck, knuckles skimming the
scruff on his cheek as she raised her eyes. They gleamed like green jewels
in the setting sun, a new awareness lurking behind the glow, a mix of relief
that he’d come, elation that they were both still alive, and a heat meant just
for him. She grinned at him, shook her head. “Outmanned, outgunned,
my head in the noose.” On her toes, kissing him sweet. “And
my man saves the day. It doesn’t get much better than that.” She
sighed happily, then realized what she’d just blurted out and went still for a
second before ducking her head. But Mitch wasn’t having any part of that
and took the opening. Putting his good arm around her waist, he hauled
her in. “Your man? You thinking of me that way, baby?” Low, smooth.
Whiskey neat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Kate
opened her mouth to deny it, because crap, what if she said what she really
felt and he wasn’t feeling it the same? She shut her mouth. Then
opened. Shut. Opened again. Shut.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Honey,
you’re creating your own weather system.” When she opened again, he
leaned in and helped himself. Tongues and lips, slow and soft, they were
both breathless when he lifted his head. “Nothing you can’t say to
me.” But before she could reply, he suddenly swayed, over-compensated,
then tipped too far the other direction and had to stagger to balance
himself. Kate grabbed a handful of leather jacket to steady him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Ah,
Kate,” he said softly, “I’m sorry about this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“About
what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"> His eyes rolled back and Mitch sank to his knees, forehead
resting gently against her stomach as he blacked out.</span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-45097431895997942242015-04-18T10:30:00.000-07:002015-04-18T10:52:40.178-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Thirteen<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Kate
stood in the deep shadows and silently watched Mitch and Ace walk out of sight.
She had to grit her teeth and force herself not to go after them, even more so
when Mitch tripped and would have fallen if not for Ace. Turning away before she did something stupid,
she made her way through the forest until she was far enough beyond where the
men had last been seen before angling back toward the trail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It
hadn’t taken long to halt the progress of the two guys still trying to climb up
the ridge. A pile of large, loose
stones, a strong branch and a little fulcrum action had sent them frantically
scrambling to avoid the sharp projectiles. She
smiled at the howls and curses, grinned in the silent aftermath, then eased out
from behind a boulder and cautiously peered over the edge of the trail. Dusty plumes followed the rocky
debris hurling down the mountain in a bone-breaking landslide. She took a
minute to study the area for the sniper, but after seeing no one, slipped back into the forest and headed after Mitch. By the time the men regrouped, she
would be long gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Walking
fast, her mind on Mitch, worried that he was in worse shape than he’d let on,
she stumbled on a root and fell to her knees with a grunt. Cursing under her breath, thankful her fall
was cushioned by the pine needles, she was just getting to her feet when the
low drone of a male voice wafted toward her.
She couldn’t understand the words, but knew if one man was speaking,
there had to be another listening. Crawling behind the closest tree, she
shrugged off her pack, jerked the rifle off her shoulder and sighted down the
barrel, eyes narrowed as she looked through the scope. Slowly scanning, taking her time, Kate was
rewarded by a slight movement in the underbrush about sixty yards to her left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Was
this the sniper? She knew the other two
were still below, city boys lost in an unfamiliar environment being chased by
rocks, but if the sniper had made it up the mountain so quickly, he obviously had more experience. Her mouth went dry at her next thought. Or were there more men that the three she'd initially spotted?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
sound of a twig snapping to her right dropped Kate to her belly behind an
enormous fallen log, half-rotted and covered with moss and lichen. She breathed easy through her mouth, not
moving a muscle as she listened to the forest, searching for what didn’t
belong. Several minutes ticked by, then
faintly, above and behind her, the soft <i>snick</i>
of a pebble glancing off other small stones sent a chill down her spine. <i>Behind
her?</i> Mitch and Ace were back that
way. Her heart began to pound, but she
forced herself to stay still, all her senses focused on the sounds around her before she slowly turned to look over her shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Another
man, several yards away, muttered a few words into a headset, his voice so low
she wouldn’t have known he was speaking if she hadn’t seen the slight movement
of his lips before he turned his back and stealthily began making his way
north, eyes on the ground, tracking, searching.
Kate remained motionless and watched him stop, crouch down and shuffle a
handful of pine needles between his fingers like he was reading a coded
message. Then he straightened, tipped his head back and inhaled deep like Ace
would, scenting his prey, reading the air.
Her stomach clenched. He could
find Mitch. All he had to do was follow the signs, and the rich, coppery scent of fresh blood. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
had a perfect shot at the guy, could take him out in a heartbeat. She was skilled and proficient, more than
capable, but to shoot someone in the back, in cold blood? Murder wasn’t really something she wanted on her
resume.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Change
of plan then. She needed to get to
Mitch. In the shape he’d been in, this
guy could knock him over with a feather.
Or shoot first, who cares about later.
<i>Move, you bastard</i>. She couldn’t go until he did and with all his
sniffing and pine needle reading, she was getting tired of waiting for him to
get on with it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But
then he did the most unexpected thing, catching her so off guard, she froze like
a deer in headlights in what felt like the longest moment of her life. He abruptly turned, the smile on his face
thin and cruel as he raised his rifle and aimed it right at her. With no time
to think, Kate rolled to her back and fired, the recoil slamming the rifle butt
into the ground at her hip. The man
returned fire, but as his shots rang out, sending splinters of rotten wood and
chunks of wet moss into the air, she was already scrambling around the log. After a quick glance over her shoulder to make
sure the other guy hadn</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">’</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">t seen her yet, she adjusted her rifle and risked a look
up the slope, prepared now to shoot, the hell with her resume, but the man had
disappeared, vanished like smoke into thin air.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Frowning,
her eyes flew around the area, searching for anything that would reveal his
whereabouts. With two men this close,
she had to get away, now. Fear tightened
her stomach but she ignored it, her mind racing as she weighed the risks and
the danger. She took a couple of strong,
even breaths, tensed her muscles and prepared to make a run for it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Her
heart jammed in her throat when she rolled away from the log to stand up and saw a man less than three feet away, grinning down at her, rifle casually pointed at her
chest. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Pretty good with that rifle.” He nodded, all chatty, like neighbors over
the fence. “And that shooting from the
hip thing? Like a Lara Croft movie.” He laughed, showing that what little teeth he
had were stained dark brown, no doubt from the tobacco stuffed into the side
of his cheek. His beady eyes darted from
her face, to her hands still gripping her rifle, to her chest, though the draw
there might not have been her breasts, but the sight of Mitch’s blood smeared all
over her jacket and shirt. He talked with a strange southern drawl and looked like
a ferret, skinny and sly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She had to get on her feet. Not only was she at a disadvantage on the ground, but her pistol was at her back, knife in the
sheath at her side. Dressed for hiking, her thick shirt and jacket were blocking access to her weapons. She kept her eyes on him and slowly began to rise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
let her sit up, but when she made to stand, he scowled and bent to snatch the rifle out of her hands. “You just sit right there, girl. No quick-like moves.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Can
I just sit on the log? I’m tired and cold. I’ll stand up, but then sit right back
down again, okay?” She smiled like a
Barbie doll, head tilt and all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After
giving it way more thought than the simple yes or no required, he finally
jerked his chin once and she wasted no time standing. She turned, as if inspecting the log for a
place to sit, though in truth was studying the area, looking for the other man,
because this guy wasn’t the true threat. She’d
fucked up. At least four guys, not the three
she’d figured. Looked like she might have to pay for that mistake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
picked a spot near one end of the log and sat.
“So,” she said, unbuttoning her jacket, “what happened to the other
guy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ferret
smiled wide. Kate had reached a total
count of seven teeth when she felt the hard press of a muzzle at the base of
her skull. Taking a slow, deep breath,
she said calmly, though her heart had nearly reached critical mass, “Ah, there
you are.” Silence for a minute, then
Ferret started to laugh, shaking his head as he walked closer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Shut
the fuck up,” growled a cold, mean voice at her back. It was him all right, the boss who meant
business. He jabbed the pistol in her
nape hard enough to make her head snap forward.
Now or never, she thought, kicking a leg out and nailing Ferret so hard
in the balls with her steel-toed boot, his eyes nearly popped out of his head
as he collapsed, moaning and writhing to the forest floor. Before he hit the ground, she had already
twisted over the log and hammered a solid fist into the boss guy’s throat,
reaching out to grab his wrist with her other hand. His head snapped back as he choked for breath, but
he still managed to keep his grip on the pistol, livid eyes locked on her
face as they grappled. She plowed a fist
into his belly then hopped back to avoid his reach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So
many ways to play the next few minutes, Kate’s mind boggled at the
choices. Ferret was out for the count,
crying and sniveling, his knees drawn up tight to his chest, hands in his
crotch as he blubbered. But this one, rubbing his throat, gun unwavering from a
spot right between her eyes, he was a different. Lean and wiry, he stood a few inches taller
than her, bald head glistening with sweat, an obvious family connection to Ferret
with his thin lips and long, sharp nose.
She could see in his dark rattlesnake eyes this wasn’t going to end well
for somebody.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Why’d
you shoot Mitch?” she asked, stalling for time.
<i>Knife or pistol, pistol or knife</i>.
“He’s the one who tracked me, has the contract.
What are you doing?
Poaching? That won’t sit well
once word gets out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“He
was in the way and word ain’t getting out.”
Poor guy, his voice sounded funny, like he’d just been throat punched.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Oh, come on.” She couldn’t stop the burst of laughter. “You
thought taking down a man like Mitch Cartwright was a good idea?” She snorted.
“Even if you did manage to do the impossible, somebody will get word to
his brother.” Kate shrugged, letting her
jacket slide off one shoulder. “Your funeral.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“But
I did the manage the impossible,” the guy sneered. “Not here now, is he? I got him, saw him drop.” He stepped close and hissed in her face, “Like I said, word ain’t getting out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Finally,
close enough. She leaned in, eyes locked
with his as she edged a hand to the small of her back. When her arm was suddenly wrenched up between
her shoulder blades, forcing her up onto her toes, the pain was so unexpected
and excruciating she couldn’t register what was happening at first. Her gun was
yanked out of her waistband and Ferret’s tobacco breath slid hot into her ear,
oily and rancid. “You gonna be sorry for that kick, bitch.” He yanked hard on her
arm. She was powerless to stop the
shriek as pain tore through her shoulder.
Panting through the agony, she was vaguely pleased that her voice wasn’t
as impaired as the rest of her. “You
guys don’t seem to understand the concept of bounty hunting. You’re supposed to catch the runner, then
return them for compensation. Torture
and murder aren’t usually on the table this early in the game.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Boss
stepped close, pushing his chest into her, forcing her back against Ferret,
pinning her between their bodies. Her
arm throbbed with the unbearable pressure and her calves were screaming. <i>En
pointe</i> in hiking boots wasn’t exactly the prescribed ballet movement. She let herself fall hard into Ferret’s
chest, biting her lip against the pain as it tore through her, but it was worth
the agony when he stumbled, lost his grip and fell. Her arm flopped like a piece of dead meat,
razor-sharp pain ripping from her neck to her finger tips as muscle and tendon uncoiled. Right arm numb and worthless, she stretched across her
belly with her left hand, jerked the knife out of its sheath and without a
second’s pause, stabbed it into the boss guy’s shoulder. The blade was sharp,
her aim true and it went deep. Her grip
tight on the hilt, she jammed it in harder and twisted. He roared, shoved her back and raised the
butt of the pistol to strike her, his face contorted with rage. “You’re fucking dead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Shifting
her feet, she prepared to strike again when he came closer, but
Ferret, like the fucking Energizer Bunny, was back on his feet and had moved in
behind her, pinning her arms in a forceful embrace.
Going limp, she let her weight throw him off balance again, this time
they fell back onto the log and she used his tight grip as a brace, pulling her
feet up to her chest then kicking out, making solid contact with Boss man’s
stomach. As he staggered back, she
stabbed her knife into Ferret’s thigh.
He surged up so fast, she tumbled off his body and landed on hands and
knees, jarring her injured shoulder as she fell. Bellowing, Ferret slumped back onto the log, hands
clutched around his thigh as blood welled like little fountains between his fingers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Before
Kate could get to her feet, Boss kicked her in the side, the blow rolling her
five feet down the slope. Sucking in a shaky breath as her ribs burst into flame, she dodged the second kick, but he caught
her in the injured shoulder with the third and she did a face plant, her breath
wheezing from the pain, the arid scent of old pine filling her nose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
ground his boot heel into her wrist until she released the knife, then bent
down and grabbed a handful of hair, yanking her head back to expose her throat. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Time we had us some fun, little girl.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Kate felt the blade dig
into the skin just below her chin when she swallowed. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> A
snarl rolled like thunder across the forest floor, followed by a deep, rough
voice filled with hell-to-pay fury. “And I can’t wait
to get the party started.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-78055772818999726502015-03-28T14:59:00.001-07:002015-03-29T10:05:50.392-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Twelve<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Kate crawled beside Ace where he hunkered at the edge of the
trail. His growl was a low, continuous rumble as she stared down into the
trees. Mitch quietly asked, “Can you see them?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Shifting back, she crouched beside him. “I spotted two on
foot, the sniper makes three. Let’s get your jacket on, I’ll tell you
where to go, then you and Ace head out and I’ll be right behind you.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Not a chance. I’m staying and you’re going—”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Her hand shot out and clamped over his mouth. She
leaned in, fire in her eyes. “I understand you’re finding this
hard to accept, Cartwright, but try to focus on the facts here. You’re hurt,
I’m not. You need medical attention, I don’t.” She glared and
tightened her fingers when he tried to pull away. “I know you’re used to
doing things your way, controlling every situation, but that is not happening
right now.” She dropped her hand, grabbed his jacket and began to
carefully work his arms through the sleeves as she spoke. “I have to be
lead dog on this one, Mitch, and you’re going to accept it. I’m not going
to die on this mountain today because you’re too stubborn to let someone else
take charge.” Adjusting the jacket across his shoulders, she said impatiently,
“And if I have to order Ace to drag you out of here by your hair, believe me, I
will.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He stared, enthralled. She was so damn hot when she
got riled. “Is it totally wrong that I want you right now, hard and fast
and deep?” he growled.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Kate blinked, then one side of her mouth curled up and she
shook her head, anger dissipating as fast as it had come. “Not wrong, just bad
timing,” she said with a grin. Grabbing
the rifle, she moved back to the bluff and carefully scanned the lower terrain
through the scope. She could see two men trying<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to make their way toward the ridge,
the attempt more one step forward, two back as they fought against the
landscape of fallen trees, loose shale and underbrush. “Where are you?”
she whispered, panning through the trees for the sniper. “Remember the
muzzle flash,” Mitch murmured. “Start there and work out.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Picturing the spark of light that had gleamed for an instant
in the dark forest below, she aimed the rifle down the ridge and within moments
had located the tree and the shooter, who was slowly making his way to the
ground. Kate carefully gauged his descent, took a deep breath and
fired. The branch shattered under the man’s feet, his rifle flying as he
lost his grip and abruptly dropped out of sight.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Scuttling back from the edge, she met Mitch’s gaze.
“You get him?” He hated that she had to do this, he didn’t want
another monster haunting her nightmares, but they had no choice now.
Still, when she smiled and said, “Killed the branch he was standing on,”
Mitch grinned back at her with relief.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Setting the rifle aside, Kate called Ace to her, strapped
his saddlebags around his bulk, then quickly secured the two packs she and
Mitch were carrying. When his felt too heavy, she bent to switch some
items to her own pack, but he took it from her. “It’s okay, the weight
won’t matter. I’ll carry it over my good
shoulder.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“I’m more worried about your head. You could get
disoriented, lose your balance, compromise your vision.” A memory
teased. Mitch riding the Harley up her drive, his aviators an irritating
impediment. “Where are your sunglasses?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Using the boulder to steady himself, Mitch slowly got to his
feet, though he swayed for a second, then held a hand over his eyes while he
fought to stay upright. “Sunglasses? I don’t remember.” He frowned.
“Was I wearing them?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“No, not this morning.” She bent to her pack.
“Mine will work, if they fit.” After rummaging in a side pocket, she
found the case, snapped it open and handed him a pair of Ray-Bans. “The
lenses are really dark and should help with your light sensitivity.” She
polished them with the hem of her tee shirt, then stood in front of him and
slipped them on. “Better?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He groaned at the soothing absence of harsh sunlight.
“Much better.” Then he pulled her against his uninjured side and held her
tight for a moment before saying, “Okay, </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">what’s our next move?”</span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Use Ace, for balance and support. Stay on this trail until you come to a large
tree on your right that was struck by lightning. It’s split down the
middle and burnt to a crisp on one side. That’s your signpost.”
Turning to face him, she met his eyes. “I won’t lie, the hike is short, but
it’s a bitch. There’s a narrow track
behind the tree, follow it until you
reach a fork, go left and hike until you get to the top.” She paused, eyes
roaming over his face, noting the flush on his cheeks, the tight clench of his
jaw muscles. “Ace and I have easily done it in under an hour, but you’re hurt
so take your time, go slow, stop and rest. I’ll meet you at the summit.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Mitch put his hands on her shoulders and scowled down at
her. “You fucking promise that you’ll be right behind us, and I’ll
go.” His fingers griped hard. “Otherwise, you’re coming with me
now, no arguments.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“We need to know what we’re dealing with. I know these woods, they don’t.” She raised
her hand to stop him when his mouth opened to argue. “It’s simple surveillance, Mitch. I’ll be careful, find out where we stand, and
muddy our trail. When I’m done, I’ll be
right behind you.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He tried to shake his head, but a bolt of pain shot through
his temples, stabbing into his brain. The best he could do was growl, “Hell
no.” His voice sounded raw, like the words had scraped his throat on the
way out. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“I thought you were
just going to bring up the rear, watch our backs or something. No way you’re
stalking a hit team by yourself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">She moved away from him without speaking and knelt beside
Ace, wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, “You keep our
guy safe, okay? Don’t take any chances or try to be the hero, Ace.”
After a quick hug, she straightened, picked up Mitch’s pack and slid it up his
arm to hang over his good shoulder. Eyes burning a path across her face, fueled
by anger and helplessness, he snarled, “I</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">’</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">m not going to let you do it, Kate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Smiling ruefully, she shook her head. “Still trying to boss me." When his scowl deepened, she said, </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.6666669845581px;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Look, Mitch, I know what I’m doing. Four years on the run, dodging death at every
turn, remember? I got this.”</span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“But you shouldn’t do it on your own, and definitely not
without me at your back.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">She gave him a searching look, then said softly, “Would you
question anyone on your team, Mitch? Ever have this conversation with
Mike? And when did I give you the impression I can’t handle myself?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He scowled, opened his mouth, snapped it shut, then hissed
angrily, “Just because you can handle yourself, doesn’t mean you should do this.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“You</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">’ve </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">made
it clear we’re in this together, Mitch, so prove it. Trust me to do this while you go with Ace.”
She shrugged into her pack, adjusted the rifle strap over her shoulder and ran
a quick scan around the area to make certain they weren’t leaving anything
behind, then lifted her eyes to meet his. Was he looking feverish, or
just furious? “Stop and rest every fifteen minutes or so and drink plenty
of water. If you feel sick or faint, find a place to lay low and I’ll
find you. Just don’t deviate too far off the route, I don’t want to lose
you in the wilderness.” She gave him a small smile. “And be sure to
stay under the pines as much as possible so you can’t be tracked.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“For fuck’s sake, Kate. You know what I do for a
living, right?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Sorry,” she snorted, “until you, I’ve been used to a male who
actually listens to me. I tell Ace what to do,” she shrugged, “and he does it,
no arguing, no debate.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">There was a moment of silence, then he laughed, low and deep
and her breath caught. She wanted that sound to belong to her, wanted to surround
herself in the warmth and never be cold or afraid again. <i>If only</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Kate, I…” He swallowed, then tipped sideways when Ace
bumped into his leg. Putting out a hand to steady him, Kate said softly,
“Hold that thought. We’ll talk tonight when we’re far away from here and
not dodging bullets and bad guys.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“I swear, woman, if you’re not wrapped around me tonight,
safe and sound, I will tear this fucking forest down, tree by tree until I find
you.” Pain carving deep furrows beside his mouth, he barked, “You
understand me?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Yes, sir.” After a mock salute, she moved closer and
got serious. “And if you aren’t at the summit when I get there? Same goes.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He pulled her hard against him and she knew it had to hurt,
also knew he wouldn’t care. His kiss was intense, almost brutal as he took her
mouth, heat and power rolling off him. He smelled of spice and sweat,
blood and fury. Lifting his head, he murmured against her lips, “</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">We’ve
got things to settle between us, baby.”
Forcing himself to step back, he said soberly, “I’d better see you soon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“You will.” She took
a deep breath to clear her head, hitched her pack and readjusted the
rifle. “Now go. At this rate, I’ll get there before the two of you.” Reaching up, she cupped his cheek. “Stay
safe,” she whispered, then quickly turned away and moved silently into the
trees before the haunted look on his face changed her mind.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Mitch waited until she was out of sight before gesturing to
Ace. The dog walked beside him on the left, his body between Mitch and
the rugged drop-off, every so often lightly nudging Mitch back on track when he
stumbled. Several minutes later, however, Mitch dropped his pack and rushed
behind a tree to throw up everything he’d ever eaten since the day he was
born. At least that’s how it felt when he found himself on hands and
knees, weak and exhausted, head pounding, shoulder throbbing and his gut aching.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">When he could move, he crawled several yards away and
collapsed on his back with a low moan. Ace sat next to him, whining
softly. “I’m okay, boy. Just need a minute.” Christ, he
sounded like he needed last rites. Without opening his eyes, he fumbled in Ace’s saddlebag for water. Slowly, carefully
sitting up, he took a long pull on the bottle and swished out his mouth before
taking a drink. He had a queasy urge to retch when the water hit his empty
stomach but with slow even breaths, the moment passed.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He had to get his shit together. For some reason he
couldn’t quite remember, he’d actually agreed to Kate’s stupid plan. It was almost impossible to think around the piercing
headache, but that was no excuse for letting her take charge, and no way was he
leaving her to deal with three men, possibly more, who’s only objective was killing
or capturing her. He had to get back in the fucking game. In tiny
increments, he cautiously raised his eyelids, thankful the intense pain he’d
experienced earlier had been lessened by the sunglasses. It seemed his sight had improved, too. Maybe barfing helped, because he’d gone from a
nauseating vision of fours, to just doubles now. It was pure dumb luck that he’d managed to
kiss Kate on the mouth instead of her ear; a fluke that he’d picked the real
Kate from the four weaving in front of him after he’d cracked his head. He took
another drink of water, feeling slightly better. All he needed now was a
minute to recuperate and he’d be ready to go after her.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Gunfire erupted in the distance, bringing Mitch to his feet.
Too fast, head spinning, he fell back against a tree and
fought the gathering shadows, his sight narrowing to a pinpoint focus of two enormous
dogs, two narrow, dusty trails, two bright orbs dancing over two jagged peaks
in the hazy distance. Mitch slid down the
rough bark and sank into the darkness.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-7389335488150351842015-03-07T20:43:00.002-08:002015-03-09T18:59:30.750-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Eleven<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
</div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">An hour later,
taking a break beside the trail on a huge boulder overlooking a long, narrow
valley that cut a brilliant green swath through a sea of pines, Mitch leaned
back against the stone and sighed contentedly. Before Kate, he honestly<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":z.1" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">couldn</span></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">’t remember when he’d had such a feeling, but finding her three days ago
had altered his world, filling it with colors and flavors and scents he’d never
imagined.</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Since leaving
the cabin, she had tormented and badgered him to explain his plan. He</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">’</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">d
turned it into a game, responding to her endless questions with foolish and
ridiculous answers until she was either scowling or trying to hide her
laughter. He bit into a protein bar and watched her twist the cap off a
bottle of water, the early morning sun lighting up strands of her hair in a
striking fusion of reddish hues. He loved her hair, the texture, the
color, the way it felt tangled in his fingers</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">—</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“So,” Mitch said
hoarsely. He cleared his throat, tried again. “So, when’s your
birthday?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Kate froze, the
water bottle halfway to her mouth. “What?” She looked over at him,
a troubled unease in her gaze, her distrust at the
question was immediate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Looking forward
to the day I can just ask a simple question and it won’t freak you out.” He bumped
her shoulder with his own. “It was just an innocent question, Kate.
I want to know about you.” He had to tread lightly, too bad that wasn’t
one of his skills. “Just wondering if I’m robbing the cradle,” he smiled
wide, “or you are.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Her smile was
small, tense, then she met his gaze, her eyes searching for hidden motives,
hoping for sincerity. He could almost see the analytical gears grinding in her
head, hear them weighing his words, probing the meaning behind his question,
judging his reason for asking it. He was disappointed when she looked away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Okay, that
didn’t work for him. Time to lay it out and hope he wasn’t about to step
on his dick. “Kate,” he said quietly, “we need to get a few things straight
between us.” He grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb gently over her
knuckles in a gesture he hoped was soothing. “I took this job as a favor
for my brother. I didn’t want it, had things at home to deal with, but
I did it, for Mike. I expected to find a woman willing to listen, to
accept the help. I figured I’d locate you then hand you over to Mike and
Lisa and it would be back to business as usual.” He tugged on her hand
until she raised her head and met his eyes. He grinned down at her.
“But instead, I find a wild woman, gorgeous and tough, holding me at gunpoint,
never once showing an ounce of weakness, and I know how my size can
intimidate. Being a gorilla helps in my line of work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Gorilla,” she snorted.
“When you climbed off that Harley, I saw Kodiak bear.” A small corner of
her mouth curved up. “Kodiak trumps gorilla any day.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">He chuckled.
“Either way, it helps that I’m a big, scary guy with few regrets and zero
tolerance for fucked up losers. My point is, I’ve never met a woman like
you. You’re brave and audacious and skilled, and you had me at ‘you speak
English?’ Which I gotta tell you, baby, was the funniest thing I ever
heard.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You didn’t
laugh,” she said softly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“How could I
laugh? You’d just handed me my balls. I’m a guy, I had to save
face.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Her laughter was
a thing of beauty. It animated her face, gave her eyes a bright gleam,
chased away the fucking shadows that haunted her…and him. He flung an arm
around her shoulders and yanked her close. “You owned me. Right
then, in the blink of an eye, and you didn’t even realize it.” He kissed
the top of her head and murmured into her hair, “I don’t think you understand
yet how far down the rabbit hole I’ve fallen, baby. I’m still reeling, if
you want the truth of it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">She looked up at
him. He was either a consummate actor, or he meant every word. She
thought of Mike and Lisa—good, decent people who’d been kind to her—and the
bond Ace had with Mitch, something that wouldn’t be possible if he were a cruel
man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Just before
Thanksgiving,” she murmured, “I’ll be 32.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">He squeezed her tight
for a moment. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? And just so you
know, I’ll be 36 in January.” Quietly, his words like soft kisses against
her skin, he murmured at her temple, “I want so much to make things right for
you.” He sighed with reluctance and shifted so she could stand. “And
that means, we need to get moving.” He kissed her quickly, not allowing
himself to linger, then stood and turned to gather his pack and the rifle, resting against a boulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">She bent to her
own pack and was stuffing the empty water bottles into an outer pocket when Ace
suddenly growled. Her head spun, eyes zeroing in on her dog, rigid and
quivering with tension as he stared down the ridge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What do you
see, boy?” She knelt down beside him and put an arm around his neck,
lining her face up with his as she tried to gauge the distance and direction of
his line of sight. Was that something there, off to the left, glinting in
a beam of— “Mitch,” she shouted, “get down!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">The
reverberation from the shot cracked down the valley, but she’d already seen the
muzzle flash and dropped to her belly, tugging Ace down beside her.
“Mitch! Hand me the rifle, I know where the shooter is!” Expecting
to find Mitch armed and dangerous beside her before the words had left
her mouth, she turned toward him and snapped, “Give me the damn—” Kate froze
in disbelief and rising horror to see him lying motionless on his side next to
the boulders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Oh god, oh god,
oh god,” she babbled, scrambling on her hands and knees toward him.
Everything around her fell away, sounds died, leaving behind a silence that was
so crushing, her heart faltered. “Mitch?” Gently rolling him to his
back, her hands darted frantically over his face, his neck, down his
chest. She couldn’t see an injury at
first, then a dark stain began to spread across his tee shirt and her breathing
accelerated into a thick, painful rhythm that nearly choked her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Yanking open his
jacket, she saw the bloody hole, high on his left shoulder. Cursing, she grabbed
the wide lapel on his leather jacket and carefully pulled, raising his shoulder
just enough to slide her hand beneath it. She found the ragged exit hole,
relief making her head swim. Straight through, and from a bullet that didn’t
tumble and tear, shred or mangle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Ace,” she
ground out, “stay low. Guard.” She didn’t spare him a glance, knew
he’d dropped flat to the ground and would warn her instantly if there was
movement from any direction. Shaking with her need to hurry, she reached
for her pack, tore the first aid kit out of a large side pocket, opened it and
grabbed a thick wad of gauze pads. Up on her knees and using both hands,
she pressed them hard into Mitch’s shoulder, incredibly pleased to hear his low
moan. “Hey, big guy, need to see those eyes. Come on, Mitch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">His eyelids
fluttered, his gaze unfocused. She needed him to wake up, needed to get
the bleeding stopped, needed to make sure he was all right. Needed<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>him</i>. A sob broke through
her control, making her bite down hard on her bottom lip. Digging deeper into her pack, she found a tee shirt, folded it several times and applied more pressure against his
wound. This time he hissed and slapped at her hands as he tried to sit
up. “Mitch, honey, lay still.” He settled at the sound of her voice
and slowly lifted his eyes, met hers. “What the fuck…” he croaked, his
voice weak and confused.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Mitch, I need
to get your jacket off. Can you help me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Dazed, he stared
at her for a long, anxious moment, eyes racing across her face. His body spiked with a violent rush of
adrenaline when he saw the blood on her hands, smeared on her jacket. He jackknifed straight up, dragging his gun
out of its holster on autopilot. Then, “Jesus,” he hissed, falling back, the pistol
limp in his grasp. Eyes closed tight, he took several deep breaths against the pain, then
rasped, “Blood on you. Hurt? Ace?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“No. Ace
and I were down, but you, you’re a really big target.” She helped him sit
up when he tried again. Leaning back against the boulder, he winced as
she gently pulled one arm then the other out of his jacket sleeves. “The
bullet went clean. I can bandage you, slow the bleeding, but we need a
doctor.” She cut his tee shirt open with her knife, grimaced at the
wound. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Who did this,
Mitch? Is it the men from my house?” She
gave him a bleak look, one he didn’t like seeing. “So, the bounty isn’t to find
me, it’s to kill me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Nobody’s going
to fucking kill you,” he said heatedly, “but somebody’s for sure gonna die
after this shit.” He glanced at the
first aid kit, met her eyes again. “Fix
me up, but do it quick, we have to get out of here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You’re not looking so good, Mitch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I can make
it. Been shot before, been in worse shape.” He jerked when she
applied a stinging ointment, then hissed as agony roared through his
brain. “Though don’t remember a bullet splitting my head in two.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Kate stopped
taping a thick gauze pad over the entry wound and palmed his jaw, lifting his
face to meet her eyes. She narrowed them when he threw up a hand to block
the weak morning sun. “Look at me, Mitch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Can’t. Too
bright.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Shade your eyes
and look at me,” she ordered. His eyes were dilated. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Damn</i>. “Close your eyes now and let me feel around your head.” Calmly, tenderly, she ran her fingers
lightly over the back of his skull until she found the gash. He groaned as the pain lanced like a blade through his head. Her stomach clenched.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Mitch, we’re
kind of in trouble here. Bullet wound is one thing, but you hit
your head when you fell and I think you have a concussion, maybe even a
fracture.” She finished taping the second gauze pad at his back, then
began to wrap his whole shoulder with a long roll of gauze. “You can’t
hike with a concussion. You’ll be dizzy and nauseous and you could pass
out, fall down and I won’t be able to get you up.” Tying off the gauze,
she turned to dig in his pack and pulled out a heavy wool shirt. Using
her knife, she cut off his tee and carefully got him into the new shirt, fingers
flying as she quickly buttoned it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">He kept his eyes
on her, soaking in every nuance, every beautiful inch of her face. “Is there
anything you can’t do?” he asked softly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Yes, resist
you. Now hold still and let me finish.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">A smile touched
his mouth before a look of resignation, followed by a deep regret crossed Mitch’s
face. “Leave me,” he ordered. “You can make it to Bear Claw, get
the car and hightail it straight to Montana. Mike will keep you safe and
I’ll catch up when I can.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">She didn’t even
acknowledge his ridiculous words. “We’ve got two choices,” she mumbled,
more to herself than to him. “Hour back to the cabin, hour ahead into
town.” Her eyes roamed over Mitch, assessing. “I’m not sure either
option will work, not with a head injury on top of your shoulder wound.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Goddamn it,
Kate. You will grab your pack and the dog and get the fuck away from
here. Right fucking now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Kate frowned at
him. “Are you done being an insufferable, overprotective ass?” she snapped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Am I dead?” he
growled, his glare fierce.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">She glared back,
but before she could speak, he barked, “Then no, I’m not done.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Ignoring him, she looked back the way they’d come then turned to look further
along the path in the other direction. Narrowing her eyes, she surveyed
the landscape above the trail. “There’s another place, closer, though the
hike will be harder.” She folded a smaller piece of gauze and pressed it
to the back of Mitch’s head, instructing him to hold it while she tore off
strips of tape. When he started to argue again, she leaned close, met his
eyes and said with a sharp edge, “If our positions were reversed, if it were<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>me<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>hurt, would you leave me behind?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Of course not.” Outrage flashed in his eyes. “I would carry you out. Keep you safe.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Which is
exactly what I intend to do,” she said, stowing the first aid kit in her pack. “Minus the carrying you part.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">When he started
in again, she pressed two fingers against his lips. “Stop arguing. We
stick together. Drink this water, take these aspirin and rest for a
minute while I get things sorted.” She gently touched his face, then
leaned in and softly kissed him. “I’ll keep you safe, Mitch. I </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">swear it.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.6666669845581px;">”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">Behind
her, Ace began to growl. The sound rumbling up his throat was so dangerous, the hairs on the back of her neck rose in primal warning.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-17866016062430827392015-02-28T14:04:00.000-08:002015-03-09T18:53:10.171-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Ten<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Dawn was just easing into the cabin when Kate woke to the
soft tickle of several strands of her hair wafting gently against her cheek from
Mitch’s deep, even breaths. His arm was draped over her waist, a
large hand tucked under her side, holding her body tight against his. She
stayed still and quiet, not wanting to lose the moment or the feel of Mitch
wrapped around her like a blanket, legs tangled, arms enclosing her in his
heat. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Taking your back</i>. She didn’t know what to think about how deep those words had gone or how much
they meant. Her eyes wandered around the
cabin, the early morning light casting the space in a mellow glow, disguising
the worn, aged reality of the rundown building. Ace was watching her from
his place by the door, only his eyes moving as his head rested on huge
paws. Kate smiled to herself, thinking he and Mitch shared that feature
as the man stirred at her back, sliding his big hand over her stomach before
resting it on her hip.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Morning, baby,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep. “I could
get used to this, waking up with you all warm and soft.” He nestled his
face into her neck and breathed deep, sending goose bumps down her body.
Kate felt his chuckle rumble against her back when she shivered. “Can’t wait to
have you in my bed, be inside you.” His splayed hand moved down, tightened on her
thigh. “Kiss you to sleep, kiss you awake.” He made a low humming
sound and rocked his hips into her.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Before she could decide what to do, Mitch rolled to
his back, taking her with him. Stretched out on top of him, her head
tucked under his chin, she was drawn into his warmth, her traitorous body
overruling her head with alarming ease. When a long sigh of resignation
drifted across his chest, he smiled and languidly ran his fingers up and down her
spine, repeating the seductive gesture over and over until she was boneless and
limp, happy to never leave the perfect cushion of his body or the cozy comfort
of the little cabin. The heady thrill in not looking over her shoulder in fear
for the first time in years washed over her. And that brought her
straight out of tranquility and into hardwired tension. What was she
thinking? </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Stop thinking,” he murmured, lifting a hand to the side of
her head, tangling his fingers in her long silken hair. “Let me
have just a few more minutes to savor the best morning I’ve ever woken up
to.” He grinned when she snorted, then laid a hand on her head to keep
her still, safe and warm against him. <i>His</i>. At least in his
mind she was, though he suffered no illusions she’d fall at his feet without a
fight. No, not her. Winning this woman was going to be the biggest
challenge of his life. Mitch stroked her hair as visions of the myriad
ways he was going to convince her there was something truly good happening between
them swirled through his head.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Kate fidgeted against his hold, then trembled at the feel of his semi-hard
erection rising temptingly under her belly. Mitch rubbed both hands up
and down her back. “Be still, honey. Give me one more minute of you being quiet and biddable before we have to get up.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Biddable? In your dreams, Cartwright.” He
chuckled, then abruptly rolled her to her back, taking his weight on his
forearms as he made himself at home in the cradle of her body. Staring
down at her, absorbing the feel of her under him, he was </span><span style="font-size: 14.6666669845581px;">imbued</span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> with a potent confusion of deep hunger and intense satisfaction. Eyes wide, Kate skimmed over
his features, studied the look on his face, tried not to read the serious undercurrent
of his gaze. </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Mitch lowered his
head to her mouth. Kate wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his
kiss with heat and need and utter recklessness. She didn’t want to look
at that serious look on his face, didn’t want anything to ruin this time with
more questions or painful decisions. She just wanted to pretend for a
little while longer.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He raised his head, met her eyes, then crooned, “’The wheels
on the bus go round and round,’” as he tapped lightly on her forehead.
She grinned, the child’s rhyme so unexpected coming from him.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“How in the world do you know those words?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Rug rat, otherwise known as my nephew. It’s his
favorite book.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Kate blinked. “Are you saying Mike and Lisa had a
baby?” She stared up at him, shocked and thrilled at the news. She
pushed against his chest and sat up when he shifted. “When?
How old is he? What’s his
name?” The questions flew out of her mouth, excitement sparkling in her
eyes.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Crawling off the bed and getting to his feet, Mitch pulled on his jeans and walked to
the fireplace to stir the coals before tossing on the last few pieces of
wood. As he worked, he said, “Yeah, Mike and Lisa had a babe. He’s
a few months over a year, his name is Jake and he’s just as handsome as his
uncle.” He grinned over his shoulder at her. “That would be me, of
course.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Lisa wanted a baby so much,” she murmured. “We talked
about it many times. There seemed to be some kind of problem, though
whatever it was, it obviously got worked out. I’m so happy for them.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“What worked out is I sent them to Hawaii for a month,”
Mitch laughed as he started a fire in the stove and filled the kettle. “Not
long after you’d left Montana, I suppose. I came home after finishing a
job in Australia and overheard them talking one night. Lisa was pretty
upset about not getting pregnant and I knew being worried wasn't helping matters. So, as a thank you for taking care of my dogs whenever I need it, I gave them a nice, long vacation.” He met her gaze across the
room. “She was pregnant before they even made it home.” His smile
was so irresistible, her breath caught and butterflies began to flap wildly in
her stomach.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“What a wonderful thing to do,” she said softly, “and doubly
wonderful that it gave them such a gift.” She felt the prickle burn in her
nose and quickly crossed the room toward her pack, trying to navigate through
the tears shimmering over her vision. And bumped straight into Mitch’s
hard chest and enveloping arms as he stepped into her path.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He nuzzled, nipped the soft place where her neck met her shoulder, then wound his fingers in her hair and pulled her head
back. He held her tearful gaze, then kissed her
hard and hot. When she was breathless and weak-kneed, he lifted his head. “No wonder Mike and Lisa befriended you. Does everyone
fall under your spell?” She closed her eyes and shook
her head, whispered, “I need to go out, and so does Ace.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Mitch released her and grabbed a tee shirt, pulling it over his head before settling the heavy weight of his leather jacket over her shoulders. “This will keep you warm,” he said, and as she opened the
door, he added, “Don’t go far and keep the cabin in sight.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">She gave him a two-fingered salute and followed Ace around
the house and into the forest. Standing under the thick canopy, night had
yet to give way to dawn, though Kate could see the shadows retreating with
every passing minute as she looked toward the cabin. She took a deep
breath of the cold mountain air, flavored with the sharp, heady aroma from the
pines and in the quiet, away from Mitch and his force field, her<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>thoughts
broke free and began to unravel.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Three days ago her life had been simple, uneventful and
solitary. She’d actually thought maybe the threat was over, she was at
last forgotten, lost in the shadows. But then, out of nowhere, the soft,
throaty rumble of a Harley had changed everything,</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Mitch had barged in, knocked her off her feet with his wit
and humor, then enticed and teased with a skill and intensity she could never
hope to withstand. He was smart and tough, resilient and effective.
He’d gotten under her skin, burrowed right in and laid claim to her while her head was still spinning. In just three frigging days. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Maybe she<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>had</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>lost her edge. Not once in four
years had she allowed anyone in—other than those brief weeks spent in Montana
with Mike and Lisa—and yet now, here was Mitch, melting her resolve with his kisses, igniting a need in her she couldn’t resist even as she struggled to deny it. The intimacy he’d shown her, the glimpse of what could be, made
her want to rage against that tiny seed of hope because it was going to cripple
her when she had to walk away. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Shaking her head to dislodge the worst of her thoughts, she
walked around the house to the front, calling Ace as she made her way to the
door. It opened just as she put a hand out for the rusty knob, a beaming
Mitch grabbing her arm and hauling her inside. He whistled for Ace, then
shut the door when the dog was over the threshold. Pulling his jacket off
her shoulders, he tossed it in the general direction of his pack and said, “Open wide.” When she just stared, Mitch raised a dark brow and waited, one hand hidden behind his
back. “Okay then, if you won’t cooperate,” he said impatiently and yanked
her against him, his tongue licking between her lips until she opened for him, then abruptly, between one thrust of
his tongue and the next, he pulled away and stuck a half-eaten cookie in her open mouth.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Laughing at the look of surprise on her face, he turned to
the stove, lifted a mug and handed it to her with a slight bow. “Your tea, Madam.” Still chewing, she took the steaming mug and smiled at him;
he looked so pleased with himself, she couldn’t help it. “Thank you,” she
murmured, “though first I have to give Ace—”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Done.” She looked over to see Ace near the front door
happily munching his dog food. “All you have to do is sit down
with me while we drink our tea and have a little something to eat while we figure out the game plan.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Mitch,” she began, trying her best to put some distance between them.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He stepped closer. With a finger under her chin, he
lifted her head to face him. Their eyes connected and held, then he murmured, “Wheels on the bus, baby.”
Grazing his knuckles down her cheek, blue eyes vivid as a summer sky, he said
gently, “I know what you were doing outside, Kate. You were plotting
your escape, figuring out how to ditch me—for my own good, of course, and maybe try to convince yourself there</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.6666669845581px;">’</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">s no hope for us.” He
grinned at her scowl, leaned in and kissed the twin furrows on her
forehead. “Three days ago, everything
changed. For both of us.” He took her elbow and maneuvered her over to the bed, gently pushing her down. “We need to talk.” When she opened her
mouth, he shook his head and sat down beside her. “While you’ve been out
there thinking, I’ve been in here thinking. Within the next half hour</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.6666669845581px;">—</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">sooner if possible</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.6666669845581px;">—</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">we’re leaving, no discussion, no debate.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Wrong. Plenty of discussion and debate. Years of
answering to no one fired up Kate’s temper. “As we </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">already know, Cartwright, you don’t listen well.” She
glared up at him. “I’ve made it very clear that you aren’t the boss of me.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Mitch laughed, then bent into her glare. “You've dealt with this on your own long enough.” He kissed the
soft skin behind her ear. “It's time you had help.” He bit her lobe, then
sucked gently to remove the sting before murmuring, low and rough, “Don’t know
what this is between us, but it’s something big and I want more.” His
lips burned up her throat, found her mouth and nibbled at her bottom lip. “I’m
not looking to be your boss, baby, just your man, so don’t fight me on this,
it’s too important.” He kissed her, spoke against her lips, “Let me
in. I’ll keep you safe, slay your dragons, work your body till the only
thing you’ll ever know or want is me.” He pulled back, held her
gaze. “I’ll do anything for you.” Then he smiled, eyes hot with
promise. “Except let you go.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">They stared at each other for a long time, then Mitch nodded his head in that way she understood meant he'd made his point
and there wasn't anything more to be said. The look that made her want to reach for her pistol. But since she was trying desperately to hide the fact his words had left her speechless, she could only silently watch him walk purposefully across the cabin to his pack. “We have to get out of here, Kate. I’ve
got a feeling.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">She cleared her throat, moved to crouch at Ace's saddlebags and began to sort and arrange the contents. “A feeling?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Yeah,” he muttered, “I’ve been getting a lot of those
lately.” Taking a pair of socks from his pack, Mitch propped himself against the wall to
pull them on, then stomped his feet into his boots and bent to lace them
up. “What was your escape plan, before I showed up? You walking
to…wherever?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Kate shook her head. “No. Along this ridge and down
the other side is a little hamlet called Bear Claw. It's a fairly easy
hike, under two hours. I rent a small garage unit there, with an old
beater car, some weapons and a few supplies. My back-up.” She met
his gaze. “I haven’t been there in a few months, not since I made my yearly
rent payment, but everything was okay then.” She sighed. “I almost gave
the unit up, thought I wouldn’t need it anymore.” She gave
him a forlorn little smile. “Good thing I didn’t.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Proving how brilliant you are, honey, because we need to
get gone and an old beater will do us just fine. We get out of these
mountains and over the border into Nevada, I’ll take it from there.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Frowning, she said, “Nevada? Why are we going east?
Shouldn’t we be going north toward Montana instead?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Wagging his brows, he smiled. “I’ve got a plan.”
One he was going to have to convince the most stubborn and self-reliant woman
he’d ever known to get behind, though how he was going to accomplish it was
pretty sketchy at the moment.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Care to elaborate?” she asked, glancing up at him, a bag of
dog bones in her hand that she hadn’t packed yet. Ace came over and
leaned into her, nearly tipping her over as he locked onto
the bag. Smiling, Kate gave him one, though her eyes stayed fixed on
Mitch. “So, the guy with all the answers suddenly doesn't have anything
to say?” She cocked her head. “If you're not playing boss man,
Mitch, then share the plan.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“I don't have all the details worked out yet.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Oh, so you really <i>don't</i>
have a plan.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“I have a damn plan,” he snapped, “it just needs some
tweaking.” When she laughed at him with easy amusement, he smiled in surprise at the rare sound, </span><span style="font-size: 11pt;">then knelt to pack his gear. “So, quick hike to town, </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">get into the garage without being noticed, and we
can be on our way before anyone’s the wiser. Works for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">She narrowed her eyes. “Mitch, just so you know? I can recognize a diversion
when I see one, so don’t think this is over.
We’ve got two hours ahead of us with nothing to do but talk.” She smiled sweetly. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.6666669845581px;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">And to tweak those plans of yours.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.6666669845581px;">”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> She went to the bed and began folding the blankets. “The garage is behind a gas station off the
highway. Not many people around, even during the day. I have the
key, rent’s paid, car started right up the last time I was there. We shouldn’t
have any problems.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">“Good,” he said, “then let’s roll, baby.” </span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">Now that gears were turning, things
falling into place, he was eager to get moving. </span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">His preferred method was fast and
light so he grinned with approval when Kate</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">immediately
finished packing and within fifteen minutes had everything taken care of and was ready to walk out the door.</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">Christ, talk about a pro. She was
fucking made for him.</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"> He paused
for a moment to wonder just exactly how hard she was going to fight him tonight when he explained his idea. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">His grin widened in anticipation.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-68069929283403331102015-02-21T17:24:00.001-08:002015-03-09T18:47:45.822-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Nine<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">His
kiss was sweet, gentle, though when he raised his head and they stared at each
other, she saw something in his eyes, something serious and irrevocable. Concerned, she frowned up at him, but he just
smiled, rubbed his thumb over the crease marring her forehead and murmured,
“What did I say about the frown, baby?”
Nudging her toward the cabin, he added, “Can’t wait to get cleaned up,
settle in for the night.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Walking
around the little building to the front door, his hand felt warm and familiar
on the nape of her neck, his heat seeping into her skin like sunshine after a
long, cold winter. She tried to marshal
her thoughts, ignore the heat. She couldn’t
let Mitch burrow deeper, but she didn’t know how to stop him, or how to fight the
way he made her feel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As
they walked into the cabin, Mitch dropped his canteen near his pack, the mesh
bag of bottles by the stove and strode to the fireplace while Kate wrestled
with how quickly he was taking charge—exactly what she knew he would do. It was in his DNA to be a bossy, <i>do it my way</i>, kind of guy. So she gave him a wide berth, clicked on her
LED lantern and knelt to dig in the saddlebags for Ace’s kibbles. Filling his
bowl, she set it on the floor then went to the door, needing distance from the man and her thoughts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Standing
at the threshold, she caught the first tiny flickers of light above the dark
silhouette of the mountains. It was quiet and beautiful, so when he came up
behind her, enveloping her in his solid warmth, she didn’t pull away, knowing he’d
just yank her back against him anyway. They stood together for several minutes
watching the stars twinkle across the night sky, then Mitch broke the spell
when he lifted a hand to her hair and gently tugged, tipping her head back
until their eyes connected. “Listen,
there’s something I wanted to ask you and I should have done it sooner.” Grinning down at her, he said, “I meant to do
it at the pool, but, well…you’re very distracting.” Then he frowned slightly and murmured, “I
don’t want you to think sex is the only draw here because believe me, it
isn’t. I'm going for the whole package.” He ignored her scowl. “Earlier today I wanted to know two things: your name,
and the reason you were crying this morning.”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Why did
he have to know everything? She didn’t
owe him an explanation. It was bad enough he was chipping away at her mile-high
brick walls, but that didn’t mean she had to like it, or spill her guts. She shrugged. “Nothing that concerns you, so—” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Kate.” She sighed, recognizing Badass Biker Dude was
back as he growled her name like an irate bear.
“All right, damn it,” she snapped, “I was upset because I let my guard
down. I wasn’t cautious enough and you
just came in, took my weapons and made yourself at home.” She swallowed, her voice rough as she
whispered, “While I was asleep and completely vulnerable.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Oh,
honey,” he said, “I’m sorry about that.
I was trying to make a point.” His
words were soft with regret, “It was an asshole thing to do, though in my
defense, I didn’t mean to scare you, and you must know I'd never hurt you.”
His eyes held a hint of amusement when he said, “I expected you to shoot
me, that’s why I took your weapons, but I wanted you to get me, to show you
that I’m here for you, want to keep you safe.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Know
what you really showed me? That I’ve
lost my edge. What if it hadn’t been
you, what if it had been those other guys, the ones at my house?” She took a shuddering breath and said solemnly, “If I don’t take care of myself, Mitch, I’m dead. Literally. And today you clearly proved that I can’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
turned her around, pulled her into his chest and squeezed tight. “Kate, let me explain something.” She raised her head, met his eyes. “This is not a boast. I’m not looking for ego hits or back
slaps. Just facts and truth now, okay?” When she nodded, he continued, “I’m good at
what I do. Really, really good. It’s a gift, one honed in conflict, shaped by
instinct and feared by anyone with a brain who knows I’m coming for them.” He kissed her, just a brief touch of lips,
wanted more than anything to take away the look of defeat in her eyes. “You haven’t lost your edge, baby. Come on, you drove me off your property with
no problem and</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">—</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“But
you got in here, while I was sleeping—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Wait, let me finish. Only I could have
done that. Just me. No one else could
have found your home, let alone followed you here. I’m the only person on the planet who could and
it’s not because of skill or talent, but because of the GPS.” He smiled down at her. “And that, my sweet woman, is the only way I
found your house and was able to follow you.
Without Ace’s chip and that device?
My ass would still be blowing in the wind like everybody else who’s
tried to find you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Still, you got in and I never even heard you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And I don’t have a clue how you did it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
chuckled. “Part of Ace’s training was
removing obstacles. To him, it’s just a more
complicated game of fetch. When I got
here this morning, I looked through the window, saw your brace against the
door, gave the command and let Ace do his thing.” He pulled her close with a laugh. “No one
else could have done that either, Kate. You haven’t lost a thing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
gave him a long, serious look. “So then,
from the hunter’s perspective, you think I’ve done okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Okay? You kidding me? Way better than okay. You’ve
been on your own, kept yourself safe, for a long time.” When her head dropped to his chest, he said
softly, “This mean we’re all right, baby?”
He grinned as he felt her head nod in assent, liked being able to
reassure her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Thanks
for making me feel better,” she mumbled into his jacket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“You’re
welcome.” He bent to kiss the top of her head then stepped outside. “Going for wood, then we’ll clean up, have
some food, and get some sleep.
I want an early start in the morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Mitch,
wait.” She watched him walk away without a word, a man on a mission. He
was like a bulldozer, barreling into her life, shaking the ground under her
feet, leveling the playing field until it was his ball game. And it didn’t help any that in a small corner
of her mind she wanted him to help her, wanted to believe he actually could. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But no, she sighed with regret, somehow it
never worked out that way. Reaching into the mesh bag for a bottle, she filled Ace’s bowl with
fresh water. He took a long drink, then bumped
her leg for attention. She gave him a
good scratch before bending to the wood stove and throwing in a bundle of
kindling and lighting it, the crackle and pop making a cheerful sound in the
quiet cabin. Setting the kettle and a large pot on the stove, she filled them with water too, ready to heat when Mitch
got back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Just as she was pulling a thermal shirt, sweats and a pair of wool socks from her pack, Mitch came through the door with a stack of wood. She helped him unload, then took two pieces
to the stove and laid them over the kindling.
“Water shouldn’t take long to boil.
Do you want to eat now or later?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch
stirred the embers in the fireplace with a long stick, then tossed in some wood and as the fire quickly began to blaze, he turned and walked toward her. His eyes roamed over her body, her face, then held her gaze as he said, “I could eat. You hungry?”
He ran his fingertips lightly down her neck, smiling to himself when her skin flushed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Hungry
took on a whole new meaning as she studied him.
Traveling across his cheeks, down his jaw, her eyes settled on his mouth. Kate knew just how soft those
lips were, and at the thought, her belly went hollow, like she hadn’t eaten in
a month. She tried to swallow, couldn’t find her voice, so she just nodded like
a bobble-headed doll stuck on the dashboard of an old Buick.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">While
he’d been outside gathering wood, Mitch had also been mulling things over. It killed him to admit he had
to step back. Right now Kate was too
wary, had been alone far too long, didn’t trust anyone except Ace. If—<i>when</i>—she
let him in, he was going in one hundred percent and wanted the same from
her. So, yeah, much as his dick wanted
to cast a different vote, it was too soon, her trust too fragile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I
came to a decision when I was out,” he said quietly.” She stared up at him,
waiting, suddenly nervous. “No telling
what’s going on out there,” he nodded toward the mountains, “but I want you out
of this wilderness and out of danger.” Then
he paused, eyes sweeping over her before he took a
very deep breath, threw back his head and exhaled at the ceiling. “What I'm saying is, I can wait for it—not for
long—but I can wait until we get off this mountain, maybe even until Montana
though I’m not sure—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Montana?”
she blurted, her head banging into his chin as she reared up. “Are you crazy? I can’t go back to Montana. I’m on the run, Mitch, there are rules. Keep your head down, no paper trail, cash
only, and <i>never</i> stay in the same
place twice.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
smiled indulgently. “Going to Montana,
honey.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">”</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">She glared at his arrogance. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tomorrow</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">.”</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Pushing
against his hold, she replied angrily, “Damn it, Mitch, you can’t just order me </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">around.” Frustrated, she twisted out of
his grasp and moved back. “You presume much, Cartwright. I don't recall having a conversation about </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">doing </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">it</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">, or how long you'll now be waiting for </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">it</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> She glared. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And just to be clear, you do not get to tell me what to do.
I won’t go to Montana and you can’t make me,” she hissed between
clenched teeth, not caring that she sounded like a toddler on the verge of an
epic meltdown.</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When
he laughed, her hand slid behind her back and settled around the Ruger’s
familiar grip. Damn him. One minute she wanted to jump his bones and
ride him into next week, then all she wanted to do was shoot him full of
holes. She glared when he leaned close
and said, “Don’t be thinking about pointing a weapon at me, Kate. You know what happens when you do that.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
held his gaze and quietly thumbed off the safety. He heard the soft <i>snick</i> and cocked his head, a wide grin spreading over his face,
blue eyes twinkling as he murmured, “You want to dance, baby?” Curling his fingers, he made a gesture that
said bring it on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Staring
up at him, his confident power wrapping sinuously around her, she doubted there were many who could hold their own against this man, but she
certainly couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried. Her shoulders
slumped at the realization, and her head dropped to his chest again. She wondered for a second what her head used
to do before his chest was there to catch it.
And that made her say in a low, pained whisper, “I can't work this, Mitch. It scares me how weak I am around you. I can</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">’</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">t afford weak.”</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Cupping
her face with his large hands, he drew her eyes to his and whispered back, “What
you’re feeling isn’t weakness,
Kate.” He leaned in until their
foreheads touched. “I make you feel safe and you don’t know how to deal with it.” He pulled her close, but just for a
moment, his will power slipping with every touch. “Nothing about you is weak,
honey.” Stepping back, he said gruffly, “Come on, let’s see what we can rustle up for dinner.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch
dug in his pack and handed Kate a bag with a variety of freeze-dried meal
packets, the portion of cheese Ace hadn’t eaten and more protein bars. She shared her own supplies and between them managed
to put together a decent meal that they ate sitting comfortably together on a folded
blanket in front of the roaring fire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When
they were finished, Mitch got to his feet and held out a hand to help her rise. “I’ll take Ace out now, if you want to clean
up,” he said. She nodded, “I’ll just need fifteen minutes or so.” He put on his jacket and whistled for Ace,
who bounded out before the door had barely opened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">By
the time Mitch and Ace came back, she was clean, cozy in her thermal and sweats,
and tucked into bed watching the flames dance in the fire. He walked over, ran a long finger down her
cheek and smiled at her sleepy murmur, “Plenty of hot water left…mix it with
the cold though…don’t burn yourself.” He
bent over, kissed the corner of her mouth and said, “Get some sleep. I’m here, Ace is here. No worries.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
vaguely heard sounds of water splashing, Ace crunching one of his bones, then she
knew nothing until much later when the fire had been banked, the lantern turned
off and in the darkness the sleeping bag shifted and she felt Mitch begin to crawl
into bed with her. “What are you doing?”
she asked, rolling over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“You’ve
got my word I’ll behave, but I’m taking your back, baby.” When she didn’t move, he said, “Shove over,” and
slid under the covers, filling most of the bed.
She tried to scoot away but a large hand shot out, covered her belly and
pulled her back, spooning his body around hers. Nestling his face into her neck, he
murmured, “Go to sleep, Kate. We’ve got
to leave at first light. I need to make
contact with my team and—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Your
team? What are you, Rambo?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
felt his grin against her skin, “Yeah. Only better looking.” Her giggle made her butt wiggle against his
groin and he sucked in a breath. “Don’t
wake the minion, baby,” he growled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“The
minion?” He bucked his hips into her once
to make his point, then murmured low, “Sleep now. Talk tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
was such a Neanderthal, she thought, but fell asleep with a smile on her face
and the first, tiny glimmer of a future she’d never dared hope for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch slept with Kate’s fresh, sugary scent wafting around him, the feel of her in his arms and the way they fit together deepening his certainty. He snuggled closer, knew he would fight hard
to keep this, keep her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Ace
stretched out by the door and closed his eyes, content that his two favorite
humans were in the same place. That made it much easier to guard them.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">He drifted to sleep, visions of a world
filled with mountains of dog bones flitting through his mind.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-38377120700648695102015-02-13T14:46:00.000-08:002015-03-09T18:41:15.187-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Eight<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">She’d
taken a deep breath, her decision balanced on the tip of her tongue, but for
the second time Ace interrupted, butting his head between them, forcing Mitch
to release her.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">When he laughed and bent
to fuss over Ace, she used the disruption for what it was: a chance to step
away, clear her head, try to think past his overwhelming pull. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Of course she wanted him, what woman in her
right mind wouldn’t?</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">But being involved
with a man like Mitch meant exposing her secrets, relinquishing the control she
needed to keep herself safe. She would snap like a cheap rubber band if she let
go.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch
glanced up at her with a smile, then abruptly frowned and stood, reaching out
for her. His frown deepened when she
staggered a few feet back. “What’s
wrong?” he asked, moving closer, running his eyes down her body, searching her
pale face for clues. “Why are you
upset?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When
he was near enough she could feel his heat, she threw her hands up to ward him off. “Stop. Don’t
touch me.” His glare was fierce as he
ignored her, stepping into her space until his body was just a hair’s breadth
from contact. “Talk to me,” he growled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
stared up at him. “You’re like that
frog, the one in South America,” sounding puzzled, as if she’d just learned something startling and was trying to
understand what it meant. “It has venom on its skin,</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">”</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> she murmured, </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">that causes confusion and hallucinations.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“So, you think I’m
a frog that isn’t real?” Just his luck, he finds the woman of his dreams and she’s a nut bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“No,”
she snapped, impatiently, “you’re real, too real. That’s the problem.” She took another step back. “Every time you touch me, my brain
disconnects, I forget what I’m doing, my judgment just…fails.” Her words were whisper-soft when she said, “Lust
venom.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch
made an odd sound, half choke, half stifled laughter. “Lust venom,” he repeated. And then he smiled, so open and true, her
heart stuttered. His blue eyes sparked
with amusement, his dimple flashed, and for a moment she saw the boy behind the
man, mischievous and playful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Her
eyelids slammed shut as she fought not to sway into that smile. “And no more
smiling at me.” Under her breath, she
muttered, “Definitely no smiling.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Sweetheart,”
he said, biting back his laughter, “look at me.” When she shook her head, he leaned
close. “Eyes open or closed, you can’t
hide from me, honey. You need to get
that.” She felt him move away, heard his
quiet, “lust venom,” followed by a low rumbling laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Risking
a quick peek, she watched him cross the room and crouch to rummage in his pack. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught her
looking and said easily, “How about we take Ace for a walk? It’s too late in the day to head out now, so
we might as well kick back for tonight.”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
nodded, then seeing her gun and knife on the small table where Mitch must have left
them, she grabbed her weapons and crossed the room to sit on the edge of the
bed. “There’s a small pool not far from
here,” she murmured, shoving her boots on, “filled by run-off from higher up
the mountain. It’s where I usually
refill my water bottles.” Boots laced,
she stood, slid the Ruger into the back of her waistband and fastened the knife
in its sheath. Briskly now, keeping it all business, she said, “Since we’re
here for the night, we’ll need the water.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch
watched her round up the empty bottles and stuff them into a mesh bag she took from
her backpack. He smiled that she was always
prepared for anything, then his brow furrowed, wondering at the secrets driving
her and how long before she’d trust him enough to share them. Eyes on her, he shrugged into his jacket and
adjusted the canteen strap over his shoulder.
When the time was right, she would talk.
And he’d be there to listen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
trail was narrow and uneven, forcing them to walk single file for the first twenty
minutes of the hike, an exuberant Ace leading the way up the ridge behind the
cabin, but deeper into the forest there was more room so Mitch moved in and took
her hand. She resisted, tried to pull
away, but he held fast. When she scowled
at him, he grinned, made frog noises and kept walking. She should have tried harder to untangle
their hands, but there was no resisting the way his fingers wrapped around hers
like a glove, covering her whole hand in warmth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Needing
something to take her mind off him, she casually said, “I’ve washed, brushed,
scratched and wrestled with Ace too many times to count over the past couple years.” She paused, watching Mitch out of the corner
of her eye. “So, where’s the tracking
device?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">His
hand tightened around hers for a second, then he sighed. There went his
advantage, but no use denying it. “How’d
you figure it out?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“You
might be really good at your job, Mitch, but nobody can follow a trail that
isn’t there.” She shrugged. “It had to be Ace, though I don’t understand
why.” When he tensed, she looked up at
him, just in time to see something flash across his face. Pain?
Regret? “What is it?” When he didn’t answer, she let the silence go
on, giving him time to decide if he wanted to talk or not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“After
the military,” he finally said, “I couldn’t settle, didn’t know what to do with
myself. Mike was doing some work for a
private detective out of LA and he came to see me in Montana, convinced me that together
we could do it better.” He steered her
around a fallen log. “Mike set up the survival school, we both worked investigations, and I started my kennels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“About
six years ago, I had a Rottweiler puppy.
Leda was my star, beautiful, strong, smart as a whip. When she was old enough, I found her an
equally solid male. They were going to
be the foundation of Cartwright Kennels.
Her first pregnancy, she had one big ass puppy, healthy and solid.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
could almost hear his back teeth grinding when he paused. “One day this guy
came to the ranch, representing some eastern European asshole who’d heard about
my dogs. The guy was too slick, pushy rude,
thought his boss’s money could buy anything or anyone. He saw my girl, offered me more than I could
make in a year. I said no. Several times. Then we had a slight…disagreement
and I threw him off the property.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This wasn't going to end well, she knew it, the tension pouring off him was too strong,
but she’d asked for an explanation and all she could do now was hang on and hear
him out. “What happened?” she asked gently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“The
bastard waited until the time was right, broke into the kennel and took her.” His words fell heavy in the
quiet. “I made it my mission to get her back, no matter who stood in my way or
what I had to do.” Bitter words hissed
between clenched teeth. “She was used as a fucking fight dog at one of the boss
man’s clubs, then he lost her to a Bulgarian warlord, who gave her up to pay
off a debt to the owner of an exclusive underground fighting ring in Germany.” He took a deep breath, let it out long and
slow. Regret burned in his throat when
Mitch said quietly, “By the time I found her, it was too late.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Oh, Mitch.” Her stomach churned as tears clogged
her throat. “Did you find that man, the one who took her?
And the others?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I
worked with a few government agencies in Europe, and some animal rights groups. We managed to rescue some animals, shut down the fight rings, though it was just the tip of a very large, very powerful iceberg.” He glanced at her, eyes shadowed. “I’m
still after that slimy bastard and his boss and I’ll get them, one way or another.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">They
walked together in silence for a while, then Mitch said, “Back to your
original question. After what happened
to Leda, I had to find a way to always track my dogs, so I developed a way to
do that, starting with her big ass puppy.”
Nodding toward Ace as he came bounding out of the woods with a large
branch between his teeth, he smiled. “Meet big ass puppy.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Ace? Ace was her baby? Oh no,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Mitch.” Then her anger flared. “But why did Mike let
me have him? Knowing how you would feel? Why would he do that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I
won’t lie, I was so pissed at Mike I came real close to forgetting he was my
brother. I wanted his head on a pole
until Lisa stepped in. They tried to
convince me this woman they'd befriended needed Ace, and not just for protection, that I had to trust that Mike had made the right
call.” Mitch snorted. “I called bullshit. I wanted my dog and was ready to head out the
next morning to track him down, but funny thing.” He reached into his jacket, pulled out a small
electronic gadget and thumbed it on before turning the display toward her so
she could see a red dot moving across a green background. “The GPS had gone missing and I had no way to
trace him.” He smiled, eyes hot, as he
said sarcastically, “Imagine my surprise when Mike told me a few weeks back
that their friend Jane might be in trouble, and oh, by the way, look what turned
up.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
tipped his head, met her anxious gaze. “But
you,” he murmured, “you have nothing to be sorry about. This isn’t on you in any way.” He kissed her with just a bare touch of
lips. “You’re now one of a handful of
people who know about the tracker. I’m
trusting you with that secret and the welfare of my dogs.” He held her gaze for a long moment, hoping
his point was being made. When she
didn’t react or say anything, he tapped a finger on the end of her nose and
said, “But right now, we’re going to take it easy, let things ride until
tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">His
smile dimmed when she said, “I don’t have the option to let anything ride,
Mitch. And even less time to take it easy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“You
have all the time in the world because you have me and we’ll get it figured,
whatever it is.” Pulling her into his
arms, he rested his chin on the top of her head and gave her a little shake
before he whispered, “You can count on me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
pushed out of his arms. “I can only count
on myself and Ace. Don’t take this
personally—if this were another time and place things might be different—but I
don’t have the luxury of trust, so this, between us? It can’t happen because Ace and I are gone in
the morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Annoyingly,
he laughed. Cupping her face in his large hands, he kissed her again, not with
heat, but with tenderness and care. Then
he lifted his head, eyes drifting over her features for a long moment before he
grinned and tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “Christ, you are so adorable.” Taking her hand again, he tugged her along. “But honey,” he said, “just so you know? You aren’t going anywhere without me.” He caught the look on her face. “And stop frowning. What if your face freezes like that?” When her frown deepened, his laugh echoed
around the forest and damned if the lunatic didn’t start cheerfully swinging
their clasped hands like they were two lovers on a stroll in the park.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Before
she could disabuse him of a multitude of wrong-thinking ideas, Ace came
charging out of the trees, bounded in a circle around them, and ran off
again. A rush of insight washed through her. Ace was exactly who he was because of the man
walking beside her. “Mitch?” When he looked down, brow raised in question
at the tremble in her voice, she said softly, “Thank you for raising Ace like
you have, for making him strong. He’s
the best dog ever.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
stared at her, throat working as he tried to swallow the strange lump lodged
halfway down. Or up. He didn’t know which, had never felt such a thing
in his life. It was so girly, he almost
flushed with embarrassment, which would have killed him on the spot. “You’re welcome,” he managed, his voice rough,
even to his own ears. “He loves you, and
that has nothing to do with training and everything to do with you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Her
sweet smile went straight to his dick and he ached to have her, to take her
right now in this forest, just lay her down under the trees and be inside her in
a heartbeat. He buried the low moan that
threatened, searching frantically for something to distract his thoughts before
he fucked things up. And that brought
him up short. He’d imagined them wrapped
around each other tonight, sated and content, but was he being a total ass
here? Should he wait until they were off
the mountain and in a hotel? Or until he got her back to his place in Montana?
She didn’t know it yet, but that’s where they were going. He needed access to his contacts, network,
even his brother and there was no way he was letting her out of his sight. But damn, Montana was a long wait away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Trying
to clear his head, he concentrated on the two questions he wanted to ask, two
things he needed to know. He started to
ask her the first, when she dropped his hand and pointed. “Look.
Isn’t this just the most beautiful place? I love the moss and the waterfall and the
light glittering on the water as it tumbles over the rocks.” She went to the edge and bent to stick her
fingers in the icy pool. Gasping, she looked
over her shoulder at him with a big smile that dropped the blood from his head
to his groin so fast his head spun.
“Beautiful, yeah,” he muttered, transfixed. <i>Fuck</i>.
He was so screwed. She owned him with that smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I
take it the water’s going to be torture?”
Was that his voice, growling like a man who drank whiskey in dark, seedy
bars and smoked three packs a day?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Well,
I for one won’t be stripping down and jumping in, that’s for sure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“So
sorry to hear that,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “Though I should get in, cool down.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Straightening,
she walked toward him, concern in her eyes. “That's not a good idea, it's far too cold. What are you </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">thinking?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
knew he shouldn’t do it, knew it was crude, uncalled for, wrong in a dozen ways,
but he couldn’t stop himself, he wanted to feel her hands on him, needed her to
understand what she did to him. Reaching
for her, he splayed her hand over his erection and pressed her palm against the
hard length. He closed his eyes, absorbing
her warmth as the moan he’d shut down earlier rolled up his throat, long and
low. When her hand trembled under his,
he said softly, “That’s what I’m thinking.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Raising
her head with a knuckle under her chin, he smiled at the dazed look on her
face. “What you do to me, woman. Not legal in some parts of the world, I’m pretty
sure.” As her hand eased away, she laughed softly, the sound resonating in his belly, filling his head with possibilities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ace
appeared at the top of the waterfall, his tongue lolling. Mitch chuckled up at the silly mutt, then
bent to kiss her, just a quick one because his dick was still too eager and
night was coming. “Time to hustle,” he
murmured against her mouth before reluctantly letting her go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">They
knelt at the edge of the pool and filled the canteen and the bottles. “Can’t
wait to have hot water from the wood stove later,” he said when they were done,
“be nice to clean up.” He swung the
canteen and the mesh bag over one shoulder before taking her hand, pleased she
didn’t try to remove it from his grasp. He whistled for Ace, who vaulted out of the
trees with another large limb in his mouth, leading the way home as the gloaming painted
the sky in shades of orange, purple and red.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">They
walked in companionable silence, hands clasped tight until his questions resurfaced. Taking a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t making a
mistake, pushing too fast, too soon, he said quietly, “Would you tell me your name? Your real name, not one of your fakes.” He felt her withdraw immediately. She went still and he could actually feel her
fingers go icy before she tried to pull away from him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“No,
I’m not letting go. You don’t trust me, I
get that, but know this.” He put a large hand on her back and tugged her close. Lowering his head, he whispered, breath warm against her cheek, “I intend to have you, in every sense, on every
level. That includes dealing with your nightmares and who gave them to
you.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I’m not asking for much, just give me
something. A nickname, the name of your childhood doll, make up a name, I don’t
care.” But then he straightened, looked
down into her face and slowly shook his head.
“No, that’s not what I want.” He
paused, choosing his words. “I want real.”
Her head dropped, thunked into his chest, and he waited long moments for
her to speak until disappointment edged out hope. Sighing, he took her hand again and they
moved down the trail. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When
they came out of the trees at the back of the cabin, she hesitated, then
stepped in front of him, searching his eyes, taking his measure. She opened her mouth, snapped it shut, looked
at the ground, took a deep shaky breath. And reached up to grab the lapels of
his jacket, drawing him close, fear and apprehension making her voice waver.
“Kate,” she murmured into his ear, “my real name is Kate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
pulled back to look into her face. She
was terrified that she’d just made a fatal error, her eyes huge and filled with
dread at what she’d done. He understood
with a piercing clarity that she had just taken a giant leap of faith. In him.
Suddenly he felt too many things at once burning hot in his chest. Running his fingers down the velvety contours
of her cheek, he traced the shape of her bottom lip with his thumb before
meeting her eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Hey,
Kate,” he murmured softly, bending to kiss her, sealing a vow she didn’t know
he’d just made. It might only be a scrap
of trust, but she’d given it to him and he was more than ready to earn the rest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-63235968031485008252015-02-07T12:31:00.000-08:002015-02-07T12:45:46.640-08:00Slight GlitchMy goal has been to post a chapter of <i>No Place To Hide</i> every Friday and I was doing really well on that schedule until this week. Even with the chaos of having a new kitchen floor installed, I was making headway on the story and still thought I would get the chapter finished yesterday. But I didn't factor in a quick eye appointment for new glasses in the afternoon that turned my world into a hazy blur after the eye drop stuff...blurry vision that lasted late into the evening.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned. I'll be posting next Friday, for sure.<br />
<br />
Just for fun: Here's what the main characters look like to me, except Mitch has longer hair. And Ace, of course, handsome scene-stealing boy that he is...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NkwKBKCI9X9K1Zn2FhxEf-ooAarRHECrGdFCLHzY79kLuZ9tusOq_v3DjeFH4xdwN6RN0egre6dqgcfL3XNNYWHLhKyrY9_yf69hAps9KHqdMiyot2lsSw14HMbndYOITSvlJaf8fL-x/s1600/kate1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NkwKBKCI9X9K1Zn2FhxEf-ooAarRHECrGdFCLHzY79kLuZ9tusOq_v3DjeFH4xdwN6RN0egre6dqgcfL3XNNYWHLhKyrY9_yf69hAps9KHqdMiyot2lsSw14HMbndYOITSvlJaf8fL-x/s1600/kate1.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQ7zw1Af99wCxlCk2_CHnHTCizVaRJ67kcLz_tjLYc2zYGno3CQNcjybCJQ4YPb-DwjdlP3595n6-nFA_4weB8AKFPBEAU34oU9Du6wgIbAdXJFBcr5wMUgql0AUC85hPpQR98JxiiC7B/s1600/Ace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQ7zw1Af99wCxlCk2_CHnHTCizVaRJ67kcLz_tjLYc2zYGno3CQNcjybCJQ4YPb-DwjdlP3595n6-nFA_4weB8AKFPBEAU34oU9Du6wgIbAdXJFBcr5wMUgql0AUC85hPpQR98JxiiC7B/s1600/Ace.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibHcUk0NT3GTPQs2oOa6ocGXdVO-ctooR_LikU79mIGi9NVijV2nTOzSV8-5ylKbZDoy31orBduSHy7JhiO2219UKb82znh8tnDxTxR9OV7dEAla8uu5KdRlRVId2i_8xej0lNj4SBHSlX/s1600/Mitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibHcUk0NT3GTPQs2oOa6ocGXdVO-ctooR_LikU79mIGi9NVijV2nTOzSV8-5ylKbZDoy31orBduSHy7JhiO2219UKb82znh8tnDxTxR9OV7dEAla8uu5KdRlRVId2i_8xej0lNj4SBHSlX/s1600/Mitch.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-74973644512541535522015-01-30T16:34:00.000-08:002015-03-09T18:34:26.410-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Seven<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Waking
to the sharp crackle of a fire and the heavenly aroma of coffee, she yawned and
rolled to her back, stretching muscles stiff from sleeping on the hard wooden
platform. Covering her eyes with a forearm
against a beam of sunlight slanting through the window next to the bed, she dropped a
hand over the side and murmured for Ace.
“Hey, buddy, how did—” Her eyes
flew open, panic slamming through her. Fire?
Coffee? Frantically groping under
the pillow for her pistol, not finding it, she leaped off the bed, slapping a
hand to her hip. The sheath was empty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Looking
for this?” Her nemesis was sitting
cross-legged on the floor by the fireplace using a small whetstone to sharpen her
knife, her gun lying beside him. And on
his other side, happy as could be, sprawled her dog, chewing on the sturdy tree
limb she’d used to wedge the door closed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
opened her mouth to call Ace, eyes darting around the cabin, her mind racing with avenues of
escape, places to hide, seizing her pistol, but before she could form the words or get her body in
motion, Mitch gave her a look, then quietly said, “Don’t.” That was it.
One word. His eyes were dark, his
tone implacable as he held her captive with just his raptor gaze. Here was the bounty hunter, ruthless,
cold. There wasn’t a hint of the teasing
man who joked about weapons and hard-ons.
They stared at each other for several long moments, then he nodded his
head once—like she’d agreed to his arrogant command—and calmly went back to honing
her blade.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Anger
erupted like lava, racing through her veins, burning away her initial shock that he was here, had her weapons.
She stomped toward him. “Do I
have to kill you to stop this? Why can’t
you just fuck off? I’m sure there are
dozens of criminals out there that you could be chasing besides me—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“You
admit you’re a criminal?” he asked softly, not bothering to raise his head as
she loomed over him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Of
course not,” she snapped. “Why are you
always twisting my words?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I
can’t help but wonder. You seem pretty
violent, always threating me and—” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“It’s
you! You bring out the worst in me. It’s not my fault that I want to shoot you,
or stab you, or jump on you and punch your brains out!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
finally looked up, a wicked gleam in his eye and a seductive smile that would
make a nun want to dance with the devil.
“You want to jump me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Seriously?” Her hands fisted at her sides.
“Do you only function in one gear? Everything I said and all you heard was ‘jump on you?’” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Chuckling,
he said, “Sit down, honey. I’m just
giving you a hard time. Have a cup of
coffee and something to eat. You’re sure not a morning person, so let’s
call a truce, then we’ll talk.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Without
a word she walked past him and out the door, barely registering that it was not
morning at all, but already late afternoon. Her mind was in turmoil at
the thought he had somehow gotten into the cabin, taken her gun out
from under the pillow and removed the knife from her sheath...while she slept.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When had
she lost her edge? Always vigilant, prepared
for the slightest danger, and she hadn’t even heard him, let alone felt him
strip her of weapons. Horrified at her
vulnerability, she staggered behind the building and dropped onto an old log,
mossy and slightly damp, the rich scent of the pines wafting in the cool
mountain air. Tears began to clog the
back of her throat as frustration and anxiety swept over her. She clenched her teeth and fought against the
burn in her eyes, the sharp pinch in her nose.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But
between one shaky breath and the next, she lost the fight. Hunching over, she propped elbows on knees
and covered her face with trembling hands as the tears began to fall in silent
rivulets down her cheeks. Her stomach
felt hollow and her head too full.
Memories, choices, decisions, swirled in a maelstrom through her mind,
circling around the biggest mistake she’d ever made.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A
moment in time. That’s all it took. One tiny little cluster of seconds. If she’d spent one minute longer in the
shower that day. Got stuck in
traffic. Stopped to buy coffee at the
Starbucks around the corner from work.
Any number of things could have prevented her from walking into that
room at precisely the wrong moment, destroying her life forever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">God,
she was so tired, of the running, hiding, being alone, never able to just be
herself, even if she didn’t know who that was anymore. Maybe she should just give up, accept that it
was over, let Mitch earn his money. A sob broke through her
clenched teeth. She bit the inside of
her cheek, hoped the pain would help her get control. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Baby,
come back inside.” She jerked at the sound of
his soft voice. How did such a big man move like a wraith? He gently ran his hand over her bowed head. “It’ll be all
right. Whatever it is, I’ll make it
right.” He came around behind her and
sat on the log, positioning her body between his long legs, wrapping his
arms around her. The sudden warmth of
his chest heating her back, the solid strength in his legs, the intimacy of his
body surrounding hers was more than she could stand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Perfect,”
she whispered through her fingers, “a witness to my humiliation.” Wiping her cheeks, she muttered, “Can’t you
just forget about me and go away?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
softly pressed a kiss behind her ear, then returned the whisper, “No. I can’t
forget about you.” Nuzzling his face
into her neck, he murmured, “I’m not going away and neither are you. I’ll help you, I swear it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Dropping
her hands, she straightened and tried to move away, but he just tightened his
grip. “Let it go, Mitch. I can figure
things out for myself.” Her voice hitched
on the last word, he heard the resignation, could feel the defeat as her body slumped. Without responding, he
surged up, swinging her into his arms and striding to the house in one smooth,
effortless motion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
didn’t object or struggle as he carried her which he was thankful for, although
her passivity bothered him. She never
gave up, was always ready to do battle, accepting help absolutely not in her
playbook. This sudden acquiescence
bothered him more than finding her a few minutes ago, dejected and alone, silently
crying her eyes out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch
walked into the house and set her down by the fireplace. “Stay,” he murmured, walking to the bed and
gathering up blankets and the sleeping bag.
Worried when she just stood there shivering, he quickly folded a couple
of blankets into a long rectangle and settled her on the floor before tucking
the sleeping bag around her. After
stoking the fire, he filled a mug with hot coffee, added two packets of sugar
and handed it to her. Her quiet thank
you was almost lost beneath the roar of the fire, but he heard, grateful that she seemed more composed now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Sitting
on one side of her, he gestured for Ace to take the other side so between them
and the fire, she would warm up faster.
Then he gave her a small plate of cheese, a protein bar and one chocolate
chip cookie. She set the coffee down in
front of her and rested the plate on her lap, taking a small bite of cheese as
she glanced at his dish.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Why
do you get four cookies?” she asked, staring at the thick wedge of cheese, two
protein bars and the cookies piled on his plate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Because
I’m a growing boy and need the extra nourishment.” He took a huge bite of cookie. “Plus, pretty sure I’m addicted and need the
fix.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“If
you grew any bigger, villagers would chase you with pitchforks.” She hid a smile behind her piece of cheese
when he laughed, the sound warm and easy, touching deep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“You
don’t realize this yet,” he murmured casually, “but now that I need your
cookies to make my life worth living, that means we’re bound together for all
time.” He gave her a pathetic look, then
sighed deeply. “I can’t survive without them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I’ll
give you the recipe,” she retorted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“No,
that won’t do at all. They must be made
by you.” He lightly gripped her chin,
raised her face to meet his eyes. “And just
for me.” He held her gaze, conveying
something with his look that she didn’t want to decipher. To avoid it, she lowered her eyes to
his mouth, which was a mistake. His lips
were full and soft and, well, mouth-watering.
Her tongue ran back and forth across her bottom lip as if she could
still taste him from yesterday’s kiss in her kitchen. His slight groan brought her eyes up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
was focused on her mouth, but then he raised his head and when their eyes
locked, she drew in a shuddering breath at his intense look. “Mitch,” she whispered, as a rush of heat
swept through her. “Why are you doing this?” His smile was slow, rife with promise as he
carefully reached for her plate, setting it next to his on the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Sweet
Jesus, woman.” Leaning closer, he nuzzled
her hair out of the way, the scruff of his whiskers giving her
goose bumps as he kissed his way up the curve of her neck. “I want you, that's why.”
His voice was a low, deep rumble in her ear. “About two seconds after you walked out on
your porch and faced me down, I’ve wanted you.”
He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, tracing the contour, relishing
her taste. “And that was before the
cookies.” He groaned when she opened her
mouth, didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue between her lips, delving and
exploring, learning and savoring. She clung
to the sleeping bag for dear life, her fingers tight in the fabric as he kissed
her breathless. With another groan, he
pulled away, but only far enough to meet her eyes. “Please say yes,” he said, lightly kissing
the corners of her mouth, her nose, her temples, as he waited for her answer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Does
anyone ever say no to you?” she asked softly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Your
answer is the only one that’s ever mattered.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Solemnly,
she stared at him. Was she really
thinking of doing this? Okay, she had to
admit there was some kind of weird connection between them, and yes, it had
been so long since she’d been with anyone her judgment had to be impaired. And damn, he was hot and he wanted her. No one had wanted her like this, ever. But none of that made it the right thing to
do. He was here now because he’d hunted
her down, threatened her, chased her and had used Ace against her. Her eyes roamed over his face, taking him in,
seeing him clearly, without the distortion of anger or fear to cloud things. Mitch was also funny, strong, and confident;
kind and sweet and loyal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
shifted slightly when her eyes settled on his mouth, then she met his gaze and
saw the need, could feel how still he held himself under her scrutiny. She could also see that behind the hope of yes,
was also the man who would accept no. He
was truly leaving the decision to her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
took a deep breath, a different kind of fear making butterflies dance wildly in
her stomach as she tried to weigh the consequences between those two small words, yes or no. He gave her a crooked little smile, his
dimple flashing and she was lost. Even
if this was the biggest mistake of her life—or the second biggest—even if it was
just for tonight, she didn’t care. At
least she’d have some memories that weren’t filled with blood and terror. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But
as she opened her mouth to tell him, the sound of a metal plate rattling across
the wooden floor startled them both. Ace
had eaten all the cheese and was just carefully picking up a cookie with his
enormous teeth when they both shouted, “No!”
Surprised at being yelled at, the cookie dropped out of his mouth and fell to the floor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch
rose, gathered the remaining food, mugs and plates, setting everything in the kitchen sink out of reach. He walked back, held out a hand to help her rise, then
wrapped his arms around her, his arousal pressing full and hard into her belly,
making her almost dizzy with nervous tension.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“You
feel how much I want you?” he said roughly into her ear. She nodded, too breathless to answer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">When she dropped her head to his chest, he gently stroked a large hand up and down her back, soothing her as he whispered, </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.6666669845581px; line-height: 15.6933336257935px;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">I</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.6666669845581px; line-height: 15.6933336257935px;">’</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">m thinking maybe the better question here might be...do you want <i>me</i>?</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.6666669845581px; line-height: 15.6933336257935px;">”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-15522391939102262032015-01-23T15:30:00.001-08:002015-03-09T18:30:16.326-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Six<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stumbling
in the dark, she bumped into Ace and would have fallen if not for his solid bulk. “Thanks, buddy,” she muttered, voice rough with exhaustion. God, what a freaking long
day and night it had been, bouncing from one adrenaline-spiked moment to the
next. Scrubbing her face with cold
hands, she leaned into the nearest tree and took her bearings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">They
stood at the edge of an alpine meadow, one last climb to the old
forest service cabin and she’d
be warm and safe. With a yawn that almost cracked
her jaw, she surveyed the meadow in the waning moonlight. Hungry, beyond tired, she needed food and a long, dead-to-the-damn-world sleep to recharge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“’Member
last time we were here, Ace?” She smiled
when he looked up at her. “The meadow
was full of flowers.” Scratching behind
one of his ears, she chuckled. “And
butterflies. You ran like a goofy puppy,
jumping and pouncing, chasing them all over the field.” They leaned into each other in companionable
silence, his heat warming her thigh.
When she lifted her hand, he nudged her for more and she obliged for a moment, then said
softly, “Time to go, boy. We both need a
time out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Instead
of taking the shorter route—straight across the meadow—she skirted the large, circular clearing, staying beneath the shelter of towering Ponderosa
pines. She didn’t expect Mitch to be following
her now, but he’d surprised her twice already. Besides, crossing the meadow
would leave traces of their passing and she was all about staying under the radar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As they made their way around the perimeter, she wondered about that
radar. Unless Mitch had super powers or talents beyond mortal man, how had he unearthed the information on her false identities, tracked her to this wilderness? Her gaze settled on Ace, walking at a steady pace slightly in front of her. Frowning, her eyes skimmed over his large body as a thought began
to niggle. Two thoughts actually, and both were troubling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">First,
how had he located her cabin? It’s not
like it was right next to the road, or in the middle of some mountain hamlet with nosy neighbors and busy-bodies. She purposely lived in seclusion, shopped in
different towns miles removed from the one closest to home, never talked to people unless
it was absolutely necessary, paid cash for everything. She'd made cautious an art form.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But most worrying was the relationship between Mitch and Ace. He's trained Ace and clearly they had a bond, a history. When Ace had become hers, she’d had him
micro-chipped and always made sure his immunizations were up to date. There
wasn’t a way to track a dog through that little chip, was there? No, it required the dog’s presence and a
gadget for scanning the chip. It wasn’t
a homing beacon or tracking device.
Damn it. Maybe she should have questioned
Mitch before leaving in such a hurry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Or not. Getting as far away from him as possible was the only way to
stay safe. Not only was he a threat, but he messed
with her head, something she really didn’t need. So what if he could kiss like nobody’s
business, and really, what did that mean except he was a man very adept at manipulation. Her cheeks
flushed just thinking how easily she’d been taken in, barely putting up a
token resistance to his charms. Still, was it her
fault his lips were as soft as velvet, or that his scent was a narcotic blend of leather and spice and hot male?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Making
their way around the clearing, she tried to forget his mouth, ignore the way
his blue eyes had darkened when he pressed himself into her belly, erase how he
sounded moaning over her cookies. She shook
her head, hard, angry at herself for letting even the memory of him seduce her. Breathing deep to clear her head, she stopped for a minute, tired eyes narrowing to quickly scan the trees before heading up to the cabin. It was more difficult to see now, the moon edging slowly behind
one of the mountain peaks, bringing the eerie shadows that grew between dark
and dawn.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Nudging Ace, they moved deeper into the forest, coming to an intersection where a
network of trails converged, the wildlife leaving dusty furrows in crushed pine needles like the worn tread on an old carpet. Unerringly, Ace took the third left
and began to climb. On their many hikes,
they’d taken each trail at one time or another to see where they led and if Mitch managed to get this
far, it would take him too long to find the right route; by the time he
figured it out, she and Ace would be long gone. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Except...there was his uncanny ability to find her. Had he slipped a device into one of the packs at her house? She liked that idea until she remembered he'd found her cabin before ever coming inside. Her stomach churned with the need to know if Ace was the source, which meant she had to get to Maggie, the local veterinarian, as quickly as possible. Because as much as she understood Mitch had the skills and experience needed for a bounty hunter, there was no way he was <i>that</i>
good. Unless he had an Ace up his
sleeve. She didn’t appreciate the irony.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And deep down it hurt that he'd used her dog as a means to an end. Didn't he understand what being found would mean for her? But maybe that worked for him. He delivers on the contract and not only gets
paid, but has his dog back too. Win-win
for him. Dead for her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">With
a low woof, Ace dashed through a small opening in a jungle of undergrowth and
tangled shrubbery that covered the majority of a little dwelling. When she’d first
set eyes on the place, she’d been fairly certain that vegetation was the only
thing saving the house from collapse. Two massive rhododendrons nearly enveloped the entire structure. Someone long ago must have planted them
beside the house, but over the years they’d grown into trees with broad, tough branches that hugged the sides and snaked over the roof. A climbing rose at the back had gone feral, crawling up and over the walls, razor-sharp thorns merging with the rhododendrons, burying the cabin like a well-kept secret.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After
another glance down the trail and around the perimeter, she sidled between two branches
that had grown together into a thick, twisted arch, guarding the front door like
wooden sentinels, and followed Ace onto the dilapidated porch. Months ago when she’d found the cabin and managed to push the door open, screeching over the warped threshold, she’d
been surprised and charmed by the place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Just
one room, cozy and dry, with a narrow window beside the door, another next to the platform bed built into the wall on
the right, both with glass so thick it was impossible to see anything outside except distorted shapes. A rough stone fireplace was directly opposite the door, and an ancient pot-bellied stove, three makeshift shelves and a stained, cast iron sink set into a handmade wooden frame made up the kitchen area to the left. A small, scarred table was pushed against the
wall near the stove where she'd found a handful of faded forest service maps and an old calendar that went back nearly 70 years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After
several visits, she had also discovered
the remnants of an outhouse, a dilapidated shed and the jagged, rocky outline of what might have once been a garden enclosure. She thought
perhaps a trapper had originally built the house before the forest service had
claimed it, but even their presence was long gone, the cabin forgotten. And she was very grateful for that, because right now she desperately needed a place to stop and catch her
breath where no one could find her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Dropping
her pack, she knelt to dig out the small LED lantern and set it on the table, then
rolled her shoulders and heaved a deep sigh of relief to be rid of the weight
and the worry. She hung her jacket on a
nail beside the door and bent to unfasten Ace’s saddlebags, laughing when he immediately
threw himself on the floor, rolled to his back and with legs flailing in the
air, wiggled back and forth like he had a serious itch between his shoulder
blades. “I know just how you feel,
big guy.” Flopping to his belly, tongue lolling, he beamed
a big toothy grin at her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
filled bowls with bottled water and food for him and as Ace dug in, she pulled the small camp stove and more water from her pack. Several times, when they'd hiked up here to stay overnight or for a long weekend, she’d cooked on the old wood stove, enjoying the
primitive feel of being alone in the true wilderness. Over time the place began to feel
like a haven, a safe place away from home, so whenever she and Ace made trips
to the cabin, she’d brought a few extra things to leave behind. Now there was a
spare sleeping bag, some ready-to-eat meals, cans of soup, old towels and blankets, a few
dishes, a dented second-hand tea kettle and a large plastic container filled with a variety of tea
bags and sugar packets. She would be
okay here, at least long enough to eat and sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Firing up the camp stove, she poured water
into the kettle and had tea made in no time.
Folding one of the blankets into a thick pad, she sat on the floor and
leaned against the wall, Ace tucked next to her munching on a dog biscuit.
Taking a sip of the hot brew, she sighed with a mixture of
relief and utter exhaustion. She was
hungry, but for the moment all she wanted was to sit with her dog and
not move again until sometime next week. Then her stomach rumbled, loud enough to make Ace cock his head at the noise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Smiling at his curious look,
she scratched under his chin, set her mug on the floor and with a groan got to
her feet to snag his saddlebags. Settled back on the blanket, she opened one
side, pushing Ace’s inquisitive nose out of the way as she burrowed for the bag of cookies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
ate two, sharing chocolate-free pieces with Ace while the night began edging toward dawn. Dusting off the crumbs, she was
taking a last swallow of tea, her body finally starting to unwind, when an
overwhelming lassitude washed over her. Suddenly
weak and trembling, she knew this was a reaction to adrenalin overload; to a fear and panic she hadn't felt since her early days on the run; to belated sorrow at losing her cabin, and the conflict in her mind from those blasted kisses. Her body was letting her know in no uncertain terms that she was on borrowed time and ready to drop. If her eyes closed right now, she’d be dead asleep on
the floor in an instant, and far too vulnerable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Fighting the urge to just give in to the enervating weakness, she forced herself to stand, grabbed the lantern and went outside with
Ace. As he made a circuit of the cabin, she searched the back near the trees until she found a thick, sturdy branch lying on the
ground. Back inside, she jammed it between the rusty door handle and the floor, wedging it tight. She knew this wouldn’t actually keep anyone
out—certainly not someone like Mitch—but another layer of security never hurt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Picking
the blanket up off the floor where she’d been sitting, she refolded it for Ace and laid it by the front door. She
spent a few quiet minutes with him, murmuring nonsense words as he settled, until her eyelids began to droop. Weaving toward the bed, she spread a blanket on the wooden platform, folded another for a pillow
and sat to take off her boots. Falling back onto the makeshift mattress, she covered herself with a sleeping bag, but just as exhaustion began to drag her
down, the Ruger bit into her back. With
a soft sound, too close to a whimper to be comfortable, she shifted to one side, pulled the gun out of her waistband and slid it
under her pillow. She had a vague thought about removing her knife and sheath, but the maneuver just seemed far too complicated at the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Weary to her bones, she was asleep between one breath and the next, too deep to hear the soft scrape of a boot on the porch or the low growl rumbling from Ace's throat.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-88054550232769506142015-01-16T13:48:00.001-08:002015-03-09T18:28:20.339-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Five<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
was on her feet, gun in hand, before the hiss of angry words had faded. In the darkness she couldn’t see much more
than a large shape backlit in moonlight looming in front of her, but there was no question Mitch had somehow found her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Why
the hell did you run?” His voice was
rough, more than annoyed as he stepped toward her. "You understand English?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">No way. He didn't really just say that to her. Rage boiled as her own words were thrown back in her face. “Stop
right there,” she ordered. “Don’t come one inch closer. I’m just mad enough to do something I won't regret, you
lying bastard.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ignoring her, he moved closer and lifted a hand toward her. “What are you talking about?” Whatever he might have said next died in his throat when he heard the slight click of the safety on her pistol being thumbed off. Hands up in surrender, he eased back a step.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“You
can either hike back the way you came, or stay here until daylight, I don’t
care either way. I just want you to leave me alone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Sweetheart,</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> he murmured, </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">you know I can’t do that. I
managed to throw Solares and his goons off your scent and they’ll spread the
word that I’m involved which will eliminate half the idiots who think they’re
trackers. But there will be others, and
they won't care that I've got this. They’ll come looking for that target
on your back faster than you can run.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“You <i>managed</i>
to throw them off?” She snorted. “That's not what I heard. I know I’m nothing more than a contract, a payment
for services rendered.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Jesus,
would you just hold on a sec and let me explain?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I’ve wasted enough time listening to you. Drop whatever weapon I'm sure you’re carrying and move over by that tree,</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> she said, gesturing behind him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Crossing his arms over his chest, she had no trouble reading his belligerent stance or the scowl he was broadcasting that gave new
meaning to bad attitude. “Hear me out,” he said between clenched
teeth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Not
interested.” Slowly backing up, she reached
down for her pack and shrugged the strap over one shoulder. When Ace stood next to her, she grabbed his
collar. “Stay away from us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
moved into the trees, hoping to lose him in the solid darkness off the main trail,
but before she’d gone more than a few yards, a soft series of low whistles brought Ace to a sudden stop next to her. He looked over his shoulder toward
the dark silhouette that stood at the edge of the trees, then back at her, a low whine loud in the silence. Mitch's voice slid like ice down her spine,
ruthless and cold. “You leave? It will be alone. The dog stays with me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">There
had never been a time, not through four years of running, when she thought she'd actually have to shoot someone. She knew she could</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">—</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">and would</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">—</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">defend herself and protect Ace if it came down to a choice, but to
actually </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">feel</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> it, relish it, savor
the compelling urge? Not until this man, in this moment, when she wanted him writhing at her feet more than she wanted her next breath.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She dug deep for control before saying in a cool, almost casual
tone, “You really don’t listen well, do you Mitch?”
Shifting, she tightened her hold on Ace’s collar. “I’m struggling not to shoot
you where you stand for that threat.”
She bent to whisper in Ace’s ear, then murmured, “But what you don’t know,
smart guy? I can stop anyone</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">—</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">including you</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">—</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">from taking control of <i>my</i> dog.” Before he could
digest that news, or the fact his brother was the only one who could have set up a fail-safe and given it to her, she unsnapped the strap on the saddlebags. Before they'd hit the ground, she was snarling, </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Strike!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In
an odd, slow-motion flash of disbelief, Mitch watched as his favorite dog, all
one hundred and thirty pounds of him, leaped into the air and hit him
dead-center in the chest, knocking him backwards with the impact of a head-on collision. He hit the ground hard enough to painfully
jar his spine, followed by the air whooshing out of his lungs in a loud burst when
the weight of an intensely focused predator landed on his upper body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Wrapping
his arms around the dog, Mitch rolled, straining to contain the brute, though
really he only hoped to survive long enough for the annoyingly clever woman to
call the dog off before he lost some vital piece of his anatomy. She kept surprising him, throwing him
off-balance. His threat had been nothing
more than bluster to stop her from leaving before he could explain himself, but
she hadn’t hesitated to counter with her own, more effective move. If he wasn’t in danger of having his throat
ripped out, he’d be laughing at being bested by her. Christ, she was amazing and there was no doubt in his mind that he was going
to have her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Hold,”
she said, voice clear and commanding. Man and dog both stopped wrangling and without
much effort, Ace again had him pinned on his back. The only thing keeping teeth from his neck was the sheer strength in his arms as Mitch pushed against the
dog’s chest. She was very tempted to let
Ace have him, but it didn’t feel right.
Not that she didn’t want the bastard brought down a peg or twenty, but
she didn’t want Ace to be the one to do it. Setting her pack on the ground, she walked over and plucked his gun off
the ground where it had fallen in all the rolling and grappling. Ace didn’t move, intent on
holding Mitch down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Arms
shaking from the effort to keep the dog away from his face, Mitch wheezed,
“Please, baby, let me explain. It’s not
what you think. None of this is what you
think.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“What should I be thinking instead, Cartwright? Yo</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">u clearly threatened to </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">take my dog! I told you what he means to me and you didn't hesitate to use that against me.” She threw his gun as hard as she could into
the underbrush then tucked her own into the small of her back before retrieving
the saddlebags. Reaching into a pocket,
she quickly pulled out a thick roll of duct tape.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Come
on, honey. Let me up.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> He was having trouble breathing, his words gasped out in a staccato rush. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I was desperate. Just
trying to stop you. From leaving. Already told you. I’d never really. Take him away—”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Save your breath. You don’t have anything to say that
I want to hear.” She crouched down at
his feet and began to wrap the tape in tight bands around his ankles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch tried to shift Ace off to one side just far enough so he could take deeper breaths. “Duct tape?” He grunted when the dog moved, though breathing was easier now. “What are you thinking? That won’t work, though I’m pretty impressed that
you carry a roll in your gear.” When she paid
no attention, he went on. “But I should
point out. Unless you plan on letting Ace eat me for dinner like a trussed
turkey, I’ll be loose five minutes after you’re done taping me up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Five
minutes is more than enough time.”
He almost missed what she muttered under her breath, “I’ve had lots of
practice being a ghost.” A tiny nugget of information
to mull over later, he thought, feeling the tape wind around his boots and
partially up his legs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Once
he was secured, she stored what was left of the roll in the saddlebag, called Ace to her and fastened
the pack around him. Then she stood for
a minute, her hand on the dog’s head as they both looked down at Mitch. Taking in great lungfuls of air, he stayed flat on his back, rubbing the tremors out of
his arms from pushing against the force that was Ace, beads of sweat glistening
across his face in the moonlight. Even dirty,
disheveled, and on the losing end of a bad day, he was still handsome, strong. She scowled, reined in thoughts that had no business being in her head. He was nothing more than a lying ass out for the money.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After
struggling for a moment, he sat up though didn’t make any attempt to free
himself, instead rolling his shoulders, then shaking out his
arms. “Damn, that dog is powerful,” he muttered
as he reached down toward his boots. Then he froze, staring at the complicated loops and twists that bound his legs. He raised his head and locked eyes with her, frustration mixed with respect as he realized what she'd done. He made a last attempt to convince her to wait, to listen. “Come on, give me a minute. I can help if you'll just</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">—</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
laughed. Even under the circumstances,
he liked the sound, husky and warm.
“Let’s see, you’re on the ground, big ass dog just sat on you, and your
legs are duct taped.” Smiling, amusement
in her voice, she said, “While I, on the other hand, am standing here, in
control of said big ass dog, legs free to take me anywhere I care to go. Huh. Seems like <i>you’re</i> the one in
need of help.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Bending
to reclaim her pack, she settled it over her shoulders, made a slight
adjustment in the straps and stepped back under the dark canopy of trees. “Ace, to me,” she said softly. After a long look at Mitch, the dog trotted quickly to
her side. Resting a hand on the back of
his thick, muscled neck, she watched Mitch begin to pick and pull at the layers of sticky tape. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Good luck getting that blade out of your boot," she said, her laughter like salt in a wound. "And stay
away from me, Cartwright. I’m done with this
crap. Go home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
looked up, mouth open to snarl a reply, but she was gone. Silently, both woman and dog had
vanished into thin air. Mitch wrenched at the bindings,
but damn, as with her other skills, apparently she was also proficient at wrapping
fucking tape. It took several long, pissed off minutes before he finally managed to make a decent enough hole in the tape to pull his knife out of his boot, then he hacked savagely through the remaining bands, luckily without shredding his jeans or stabbing himself. His
admiration for her had morphed into deep irritation by the time he was able to get to his feet and brush off the dirt and debris. Walking a short distance back down the trail, he
retrieved his pack and her rifle, stashed behind a tree, glad now he’d
had that foresight. What she didn’t know
made it easier on him, and obviously he needed every advantage he could get.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Opening
a side pocket in the pack, he drew out a bottle of water and downed it in one
long, continuous swallow. Then he looked
up at the moon and smiled. She was going
to be spitting mad when he showed up again, something he was
anticipating with an eagerness that should have been embarrassing, though he
didn’t give a fuck that it wasn’t. His
only real concern was the dog. And damn, it would have been nice if his brother had given him a heads up on the fail-safe
deal, at the very least shared the damn word
with him. Still, he'd get
around Ace and he’d figure a way around
her, too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He’d
marked the general direction where she’d tossed his gun and spent some time getting
scratched and more irritated while he searched in the brush for it. Finally, gun in place at the small of his
back, he returned to his gear and sat down.
He’d give her a little more time, let her cool down, then maybe by the time he caught up she’d be ready to hear him out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Rummaging
in the pack until he found a trail mix bar, he ripped the paper off and sat
munching contentedly as he stared up at the sky, his thoughts bouncing from her
to the dog to his brother. He wanted
more of that mouth and her sweet sugar scent. All over him. He wanted to hug Ace and praise him for
protecting her, even from him. He wanted
to beat the shit out of his brother because…well, the list was growing longer by the hour.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> But he also had to get out of these mountains and connect with Mike, get an update and more details about the woman—for starters,
her real name and who she was running from. And he wanted to check on things at the compound. Mike was in charge when he was out working, but
Mitch had two litters due within the next week or so and always tried to be there
for the new arrivals.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Although
his career was hardcore and sometimes sucked him dry, once he was back home with his dogs, he found solace and a refuge. Proud of his kennels, his dogs were trained in security and as body guards; they excelled in law and drug enforcement. People might not know his face from the next guy,
but most of the criminal element knew a Cartwright dog just by looking…usually moments before the dog ripped them a new one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ready to go, he dug into his jacket, taking out a small GPS device and thumbed it on. A
little red dot flickered against the green glow of the map on the screen. He got to his feet, put an arm through one
strap of the pack and carried it loosely over his left shoulder; in his right
he hefted the rifle and walked into the dense forest, his steps soundless on
the pine needles. Less than a handful of
people knew that he didn’t trust anyone with his precious dogs and that each one
had a tiny, almost microscopic device—one he’d developed himself—implanted in
the bottom edge of the left ear. He
could track the location of every dog he’d trained.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch
smiled. Oh yeah, she was definitely going to be bent when he turned up out of
the blue again. His chuckle, quiet and
soft, followed him into the trees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-62210959546331063572015-01-09T19:33:00.000-08:002015-03-09T18:22:19.715-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Four<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In
the moment between one heartbeat and the next, Mitch pushed her down behind the
kitchen counter with a tight grip on her shoulder. She struggled against the pressure, freeing
herself for a moment only to have him crouch beside her and growl like a rabid
dog, his eyes feral and dangerous.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Get
away from me,” she snarled, scooting across the floor on her butt. “If you didn’t bring them here, then they
followed you.” She narrowed her eyes and
snapped, “Some bounty hunter you are!”
Reaching out, Mitch grabbed her ankle before she made it around the
counter and dragged her toward him. Squirming
on her back, she kicked out to loosen his grip, hitting him hard in the upper
arm. His eyes blazed and lightning quick,
he twisted her leg in a move that spun her onto her stomach, then he threw
himself on top of her, pinning her to the floor as he wrenched the gun out of
her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Breath
rasping, his furious whisper scorched her ear.
“You <i>want</i> to die? For fuck’s
sake, woman, calm down. I’m trying to
help you!” His weight was crushing, forcing
her to gasp for what little air she could pull into her lungs. “Get off,” she panted, the words almost lost
in the commotion coming from the front as the two men began to kick at the
door. Mitch rolled off her body, but
kept her down with a large hand in the middle of her back. They could hear the deep growls escalating in
the hallway. Ace could handle most
situations, but he was just as vulnerable to a bullet as anyone else. She
fought to break away from Mitch’s hold, hissing low and furious, “Ace.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
rolled her over, one arm tightening around her waist before whistling a soft
bird-like trill that brought Ace charging into the kitchen and skidding around
the counter where he dropped to his belly and wedged himself beside her, his massive
body vibrating with the need to protect her.
Flinging Mitch’s arm off, she rolled toward Ace and buried a hand in his ruff, grateful to have him close.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Fuck,
fuck, <i>fuck</i>,” Mitch muttered as he
popped the clip out of her gun, checked it was stacked, then slammed it
home. “This is my punishment for messing around,
losing sight of the objective.” He made
to stand and move toward the door, but she grabbed the back of his jacket and
yanked hard. “You’re not leaving me
without a weapon.” He shook her loose,
his words sharp with authority. “You
will stay here while I take care of this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">If
her house wasn’t currently being attacked by unknown assailants , she would
have shrieked with frustration and made every effort to beat the crap out of the
arrogant jerk to get her gun back. Years—four
long, bitter years—she’d taken care of herself, prepared, trained, expecting
the worst while she stayed off the grid, flew under the radar. She might not have a love life, friends or
family, but by god she’d had her dog, her weapons, and the intelligence to keep
the devil from her door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Until
today. And this man. This pushy, overbearing ass had not only
brought the devil right to her, but left her weaponless and trapped in her own damned
kitchen. She unfastened the strap on her
knife sheath and went after him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It
was quiet. Too quiet, Mitch considered
as he crouched at the edge of the kitchen doorway and risked a quick look down
the hall just as the front door burst open, smashing roughly into the wall. Fury rose as he watched the door swing wildly
back and forth, the thought of her dealing with this on her own adding fuel to
his rage. What if he hadn’t gotten here
first? His head snapped around when she dropped
down next to him, and he fumed that she hadn’t listened to him. Again. Her face was a blank, emotionless mask of cold
detachment, then they locked eyes and he saw the truth. She burned, her anger red-hot and palpable. He wasn’t at all sure at that moment, looking
down at her fingers white-knuckled around the hilt of her knife, if she
wanted to stick <i>him</i> first or the intruders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Give
me my gun.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“No.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Her
glower could have shattered concrete. “Hand
over the weapon.” When he
ignored her, she had her knife under his jacket and pressed against his body
before he could draw another breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Goddamn
it, can you just hold on a fucking minute?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Not
without a weapon.” She pressed the blade.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch
snorted. “You’ve got a weapon, it’s
sticking into my ribs.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I
have to be close to use it. I don’t like
close.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Dipping
low, he spoke in her ear, quiet and soft.
“Use your head, honey. We can’t
fight what we don’t know. Judging by the
shouting, breaking in the door, we’ve got at least two guys who don’t care
about being polite and friendly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I’m
not feeling too polite myself right now.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
shook his head. “I’m not putting you in
the line of fire.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Her
turn for a head shake, anger flaring hotter as she whispered sharply, “I’m not
your business, Cartwright.” She gave the
knife a slight twist. “If you hadn’t
come back, I would be long gone by now instead of trapped in my own fucking
house,” she grated. “Enough. I want my
gun.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch
edged back a step, relieved as </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">she sheathed her blade, but it was relief
short-lived when she held out a hand, her glare assuring him she wasn’t going
to back off without a fight. He had no
idea what had happened to hone her into the woman facing
him down, though he fully intended to find out.
Unfortunately, that would have to wait as the hushed murmur of voices
refocused his attention on the front porch. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Trying to resist the need to keep her safe, he slapped the Ruger into her waiting hand. “Back to Ace.
Now.” Mitch expected her to start shooting, but she spun away without an argument and disappeared behind the
counter. He shot a quick glance down the
hall before following her to the kitchen.
Striding toward the door, he grabbed the rifle propped beside it, twisted
the knob and quietly eased the door open.
Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as she checked her pistol before
wrapping her free hand firmly in Ace’s collar.
Both woman and dog stared fixedly at him. The moment was significant in ways he didn’t understand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
sound of boots treading closer jerked him back to reality. Pointing a finger at her, he mouthed, “wait here”
and slid out the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
second it was shut, she was throwing on her jacket. Pulling both packs off the counter, she
quickly adjusted the saddlebags over Ace’s back, strapping them securely around
his girth before moving to the back door with her own gear. Slipping out, she signaled Ace to
guard, dropped her pack beside him and followed Mitch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Moving
silently, her back against the side of the house, she clutched her gun and
edged toward the front. She could hear
men talking, one voice agitated, one sounding furious, another laughing. She froze when Mitch said in a cold, hard
voice, “What the fuck, Solares. You know
this is a Cartwright retrieval. What kind of bullshit move is this?” At his next words, the rush of disbelief and anger
that roiled in her belly convinced her she’d not only been an utter fool to
think of trusting this man, but it was well past time to escape. “You maybe thinking to fuck up my contract?” Someone began a heated reply in a rapid-fire
Hispanic accent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
didn’t wait to hear more. He’d played
her like a banjo. Pluck, pluck here and
twang, twang there. She’d fallen for
every move, every sincere look and hot kiss.
Her cheeks flamed and if she hadn’t been outgunned, she would have shot him
where he stood, talking to his cronies, no doubt fellow bounty hunters, or
contract killers, or whoever the bloody damn hell they all were. <i>Shit!
</i>If not for her determination to get her Ruger back, she’d have been virtually
weaponless. He even had her rifle now. The bastard had disarmed her on every
level.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Moving
back to Ace, she gave him the command gesture for stealth, slid both arms into
her pack and they quickly walked down the back steps, circled the garden and
entered the thick forest behind the house.
Her feet glided over the heavy bed of pine needles, leaving no trace of their
passing, one of the main reasons she’d bought the cabin in the first
place. Falling for centuries, covering
the ground nearly a foot deep with fragrant, durable needles, not even the best
tracker would be able to follow their trail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">At
first her outrage and fury kept her moving, then embarrassment and humiliation
fueled her for another hour as she followed Ace through the dark wilderness, guided by the little beacon affixed
to his pack, until the three-quarter moon rose over the
mountains. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Calmer
now, anger and shame just a bitter taste in her mouth, she softly whispered to
Ace. He stopped immediately, turned and
pressed into her thigh as if he knew she needed comfort. Crouching, she wrapped her arms around him,
burrowing her face into the soft fur at his neck. Ace.
Her one and only, a true friend, her family. Tears burned at the back of her throat but
she wasn’t about to let them fall. Screw
that. She’d learned a valuable, painful
lesson today, one she wouldn’t forget any time soon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Unzipping
one of the pockets on Ace’s saddlebags, she dug out a bottle of water and filled his travel container. He eagerly lapped it up, then crunched a large dog biscuit as she shrugged off her backpack and
sat down, resting against the trunk of a tall pine. The late September air was chilly in the mountains
though the hike—and her mortification—had helped to keep her warm. It was getting cold, but they were nearing
the forest service cabin now and she wanted to stop for a break, make sure no
one was following before the last push, just one more mile, then she could settle in for the night. After taking a long drink of water, she rubbed a hand over
her face, fatigue washing over her. It
had all happened so fast today. One
minute she was making cookies, the next her life was in tatters at her
feet. She should be used to the feeling,
it certainly wasn’t new after four years on the run, but each time felt like she'd dropped one level deeper in her own personal hell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Sighing,
she finished off the water and tucked the empty bottle back into the
saddlebag. She was tired, like <i>really</i> tired. And not just from the hike tonight, but from everything. She needed time, to think, plan, figure out
what to do next. Tipping her head back,
she caught the bright twinkle of stars between the long branches, the sight
jamming her throat with a raw, aching pain.
Oh, if only wishing on a star could change things. It hurt so much to remember that once she’d
had a home, happiness, a life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ace
stirred at her side, looking into the trees. She held her breath, closed her
eyes to concentrate on the night sounds, but other than a soft, throaty rumble
from Ace, nothing in the forest seemed alarming. “Silly boy,” she murmured, scratching behind
his ear. “You’re hearing ghosts.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;">“No ghosts. Just a very pissed off guy who told
you to wait,” the voice growled out of the darkness.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-56048444304821511892015-01-02T18:30:00.001-08:002015-03-09T18:16:56.329-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Three<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“What—”
She stopped, swallowed the shock as her brain tried to wrap around the fact
that somehow this man had done the impossible.
“What have you done to my dog?” she hissed. Visions of leaping across the distance between them and
pounding him into a bloody pulp made her smile, though it was more a baring of
teeth and must have conveyed a small measure of her fury because his
irritating grin abruptly turned to a scowl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I
haven’t done anything.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“He’s
been trained to—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Shoving
the huge dog off his lap, the guy got to his feet. “I know what he’s been trained to do.” He put a large hand on the dog’s head, her anger
rising as she watched Ace lean into the man’s hip like it was an everyday
occurrence. “I’m the one who trained
him. He’s my dog.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
blinked. Shaking her head, she growled, “What
are you talking about? I bought Ace from Mike two years ago in Montana, and I've got the papers to prove it.” Her eyes were lit with fire. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with if
you think for one single goddamn minute you’re going to take my dog.” Raising the Ruger, she thumbed off the safety
and aimed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
bastard laughed, completely unfazed by her gun pointed at his chest. “He was my dog first and Mike shouldn't have sold him without my okay, but I’m willing to discuss terms of ownership.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Really? You think this is funny?” She took a step toward him, almost
against her will, but the urge to do some damage was overtaking her smarts. “He’s my dog!
<i>Mine</i>!” She really would shoot him if he tried to
take her boy. “Ace! To me!” And damn if her dog didn’t first look to the
man for permission before trotting to her.
Once he was sitting at her side, she wrapped a tight fist in his collar and focused on the guy. Leaning
casually against the house, arms crossed over his chest, he returned the
scrutiny, his eyes covering her body, her face, settling on her mouth. She felt a wave of heat rise from her neck to
flame across her cheeks. She knew he saw it, couldn't mistake the satisfied
gleam in his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Good,”
he murmured, “glad it’s not just me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Who
was this jerk? </i> It didn’t matter,
she’d had enough. With a calm she
definitely didn’t feel, she said quietly, “Can’t read, doesn’t understand
English, and now plays the sex card.”
She shook her head. “Neanderthal
isn’t on my list of desirable assets in a man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Cocking
his head, he ignored her sarcasm, an intent look of interest on his face. “You have a list of desires?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“That’s
not what I meant!” she snapped, then scowled when he smiled. Taking a deep breath, she tried a rational approach. “Look, I don’t know how you
tracked me down, but really, I don’t want or need your help. I do just fine
on my own. So for the last time, go away.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m seriously warning you now. Get off my property and stay off. If I see you again, I won’t hesitate to take action.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As
if his brain hadn’t heard a word she’d just said, his voice deepened as he asked,
“What kind of desires?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Oh
my god!” She stepped to the screen door,
opened it and shooed Ace through before shutting him inside. Ignoring his whine, she turned back to the
man and was startled to find he had moved right behind her. Standing so near, she had to tip her head back to
look at him. Up close, his eyes
were magnetic, sucking her in, trying to drown her in the blue depths of his
gaze. Fighting the pull, she barked, “I’m about one second from kicking
your ass, buddy, so I’d advise you to get going while you can still walk out of here with functioning man parts.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
smiled, and against her will tremors flowed down her body, a low, almost
painful stab of need awakening deep inside her.
<i>What was wrong with her? Okay, so it had been a while since she’d been
with a man—a really, </i>really<i> long while—but
this wasn’t happening, and sure as hell wasn’t happening with him</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Lazily,
voice deep and rumbling. “Think you can take me?” He waggled his eyebrows, swept his eyes over
her body, then lifted his hands and beckoned her with his fingers in a come-on
gesture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
returned the head to toe appraisal, taking her time, scanning from his scuffed
boots to his tousled dark hair before meeting his eyes again. “Let me count the ways.” <i>Wait.
Did that come out wrong?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">His
laugh was as big as he was, boisterous and loud. Genuine.
And against her will, she felt a smile tug at her lips. When his gaze settled on her smile, or more
accurately her mouth, heat flared between them like static electricity. She tried to step back, break the unwanted
connection, but he reached out and with a large hand snared her upper arm. “You can take me any way you want, beautiful,
but unfortunately, not right now. We
really need to motivate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
tried to wrench out of his grasp. “How
many times do I have to say this? I’m
not going anywhere with you, you damn lunatic!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
pulled her close, wrapping large fingers around her pistol hand before pointing
the weapon at the ground. Drawing her against his body, he held her with
a strong arm around her lower back, then said softly when she glared up at him,
“Name’s Mitch, Mitch Cartwright. And
yeah, honey, you <i>are</i> going with me.
We’ve wasted enough time, should have taken you out of here earlier.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Struggling,
she realized, was pointless. He just tightened his hold. Now she was pressed so close,
she could feel the zipper on his jacket pressing down the length of her torso, ending in what
was either a very substantial weapon tucked in his jeans or an incredible
erection. Maybe one and the same. Gulping, she tipped her pelvis away from the
contact. “Let me go.” Her voice wobbled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I
don’t want to,” he murmured, dropping his head into her neck. She felt the slow inhale as he breathed in her scent, sending shivers down her spine.
“God, you smell like cookies.”
Brain disconnected from mouth, she whispered inanely, “I baked some today.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
chuckled into her ear and said softly, “I’m thinking you smell this good even
on days you don’t bake.” He pulled her
close again, his arousal straining as he rode the
shiver that coursed down her body. Teeth gently nibbled her ear lobe, then he paused just a breath from her mouth
and said, “And I can’t wait to test that theory.”
He sighed and stepped back. “But
not now. Now we leave.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Slightly
dazed, she felt like she’d just staggered off a ship after a turbulent voyage when
he released her. The ground didn’t seem
steady under her feet and neither did her
thoughts. He turned her toward the front
door, opened the screen and propelled her through, coming up behind her,
closing and locking both doors. With a
low, two-note whistle, he instantly had Ace standing at attention guarding the
front. His actions abruptly reminded her
that somehow he’d taken control, not just over her, but also her dog. In a heartbeat she was clear-headed and
angry. Losing Ace just wasn’t going to
happen, no matter what steps she had to take to ensure that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When
he tried to move down the hallway, she stepped in front of him, gun again
lifted in his direction. Eyes burning
with resolve, she said fiercely, “You can’t have me, and you sure as hell can’t
have my dog.” She narrowed her eyes,
then hissed, “And stop bossing me around.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Moving
right into her, he put big hands on her shoulders, ignored the pistol and
backed her into the kitchen. “I should maybe
warn you, baby, that every time you get all pissed and point that thing at me,
I get hard.” Without thinking, her eyes
immediately dropped to his groin and yeah, there it was. “I never knew
I was into bloodthirsty women,” he grinned.
“I’ll probably need therapy when this is over,” he muttered, “won’t be
able to get it up unless you point weapons at me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I’ll
quit pointing my pistol at you,” she dropped her gaze to his crotch for a moment, then raised her eyes to meet his, “if you stop pointing yours at me.” Ignoring his burst of laughter, she glared. “You need to back off. I don’t want any part of you or your…arsenal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Grinning,
he leaned in and whispered, “I bet there’s at least one part of you that
does.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Don’t
be stupid,” she said, her tart reply ruined by the breathless way the words
came out of her mouth even as she thumbed the safety and tucked the pistol
at the small of her back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I’m
not being stupid.” He held her gaze, his
tone slightly puzzled. “Honestly, I
don’t know what this is,</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> he said, waving a hand between them. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It could be your sweet
sugar scent, or your temper, or maybe,” he paused, looking down at her bare
feet, “it could be your red toes.” Staring at her for a moment, he said thoughtfully, “Though, I suspect it’s just…you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“What
does that even mean? You never met me before
today!” She glared as a new thought
crossed her mind. “Is this some kind of
ploy to steal Ace?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
reached out a hand, ran the back of his fingers down her cheek and smiled. “How do you feel about sharing?” he teased.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I
don’t share,” she retorted. “He’s mine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Suddenly,
he wasn’t playing anymore. “Good to know.
I don’t share what’s mine either.”
His eyes were hot, intense and focused on her. She felt like she was missing something, an
important something, but he was talking in man-code and she didn’t understand
it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I
can’t lose Ace.” Just the thought hurt, making
her voice hoarse as she forced words past the painful lump in her throat. “He’s all I have, Cartwright. He’s just…all I have.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Her
admission made something shift in his chest.
Who was she, this strong, yet oddly vulnerable woman? How had she come to be here, alone in the wilderness with just a dog for company—albeit a seriously badass
dog. “Sweetheart,” he said gently,
pulling her into his arms, “you’re not going to lose Ace.” He hugged her for a moment, then lifted her
chin until she was looking up at him.
“Though we'll have to discuss visitation rights.” He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose
when she frowned. “And at the risk of going
lightheaded if you point a weapon at me again, we really have to go, whether you want to come with me or not.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
stared at him for a long moment, eyes shadowed with loss and fear. Again he felt something shift, this time in
his gut. He decided at that moment on a
new mission, one that would utterly change his world as he knew it, and strangely he didn’t care, actually looked
forward to it with a rush of anticipation that he hadn’t felt in a very long
time. What he wanted to see in her eyes
was burning passion as he moved inside her, the feel of her breath on his skin as
she moaned his name, the afterglow of satisfaction when he held her safe in his
arms. He ached to tell her these things,
take her out of harm’s way, assure her of his protection, but it was way too
soon and her cautions ran deep. As did
his. He didn’t understand what was going
on between them, but this clearly wasn’t the time or place to find out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Get
your shoes on, baby. Tell me what needs
doing, then we’re gone.” He waited for
her to move, but she stood frozen in place, staring at him with a look of
bewilderment on her face. Frowning, he
said impatiently, “What?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
blinked, shook her head, then said tersely, “How can I trust you? You’ve commandeered my dog and now you’re
just…just taking over like that’s supposed to be okay with me.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’d be a fool to go anywhere with a man like
you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Quietly
he asked, “Do you trust Menace? Trust
him to know good from bad?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I
did until you came along.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“You
trust that dog?” He snapped the question. Her face softened as she looked down the hall
where Ace stood on high alert, then jerked her chin once. “Okay then, get your damn shoes on woman, and
tell me how you want to shut down the house.”
He gave her a long look. “You
might not be back for a while.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Her
eyes searched his implacable face, then resigned, she sat in a chair at the
kitchen table and pulled on warm wool socks as she told him to lock all
the windows and close the curtains, then dump the compost bucket in the garden at the
back of the house. Once he was gone and she had her boots laced, she rechecked
her gear, redistributed the weight a bit, and after a moment’s reflection, took
two chocolate chip cookies out of one saddlebag and set them on the counter. She was turning to close the curtains over
the kitchen sink when he came in from the garden.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Chores done. Are
we ready to...” His voice drifted to a
halt. She looked over her shoulder and
couldn’t help the smile, or the warmth that bloomed in her stomach. He was staring at the cookies like a kid
ready to die of hunger. His eyes met
hers, then a devilish grin curled his lips. “I hope those are for me,” he
murmured, “otherwise there might be bloodshed.”
He reached for a cookie and took a bite that demolished half of it. He closed his eyes while chewing and moaned. Flushed, she turned back
to the window and whisked the curtains closed, his sounds filling her
head with thoughts and images she couldn't afford to dwell on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When
he’d finished the last bite, he came up behind her and bent to her ear. “Those
were the best cookies I’ve ever eaten,” he murmured, his breath
warm against her cheek. “I love those
big chunky bits of chocolate.” He slowly
turned her around. His kiss started slow
and soft, just a touch, the flavor of cookie on his lips adding an extra sweetness. The sensation of his tongue running along her
bottom lip made her gasp for breath, but he took it as
invitation and with a low groan yanked her hard against his body and plundered her mouth, his tongue tasting and savoring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Before
she could think how many ways this was a bad idea, his hands were under her
shirt, one large palm spread over her breast, his arousal pressing hard into
her belly. She was just sliding her arms
around his neck when a deep warning growl came rolling down the hall, followed immediately
by a loud pounding at the front door and two threatening male voices demanding entrance. Shocked at the unexpected intrusion, they
both went still, then she pushed him away with all her strength—a move that
never would have worked if Mitch’s brain hadn't been taken over by his dick—and had her gun out in
an instant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
was furious, tense and trembling with rage—at herself, at him, at whoever was
trying to beat in her door. “You led
them here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“No," he hissed, shoving her behind him, "I just got here first.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-78170346178035397772014-12-18T15:40:00.000-08:002015-03-09T18:12:43.888-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter Two<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mitch
Cartwright stood under a large Ponderosa pine and silently watched the woman
moving about the house. She was
preparing to leave. He smiled to
himself. Good to know his instincts were
still right on point. Because even
though she had an impressive poker face and appeared to have no tells that gave
anything away, the fact she went stone cold whenever his words hit home <i>was</i> the tell. He grinned outright, looking forward to how
pissed she was going to be when he reappeared on her doorstep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">There
was no way she was hightailing it out of these woods without him. Whatever was driving her, whoever was after
her, didn’t matter anymore because now that he’d gotten a good look at the
mysterious woman that Mike had coerced him into finding, he would be keeping
her safe, whether she liked it or not. She
might be tough, but from what his brother was hearing through his contacts, whoever
was looking for her was deadly serious.
Emphasis on dead. And he was way
too intrigued to let that happen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
was in the kitchen now, scraping what looked like burnt cookies into the
garbage. Her rich, dark auburn hair was probably shoulder-length when it wasn’t piled in a messy
heap on top of her head. When she’d come
out onto the porch earlier to confront him, the sunlight had shot sparks of fire off the strands, vivid and bright as the anger in her eyes. Mitch grinned. He thought her eyes were some shade of green, but hadn’t gotten close enough to see, although he’d had no trouble spotting those full, sweet lips.
She had a cleft in her chin that was tantalizing and yet for some odd reason also made her seem
more vulnerable. Slender but
with nice curves, she’d been in jeans, a thermal tee and an oversized
flannel shirt. With bare feet and painted toes.
His grin widened. Red toes, red
hair, and a red-hot temper. Add in the
weapons—because yeah, he knew she was carrying more than that rifle—and
he’d just found the woman of his dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He
leaned against the tree trunk, eyes fastened on her movements:
efficient, calm, precise. She washed the
cookie sheet and other dishes, straightened the kitchen then packaged up
cookies she’d obviously baked before he’d shown up. His mouth watered. He hoped they were
chocolate chip, with the big chunks. The
cookies and other food items went into what looked like saddlebags, along with bottles of
water and a large Ziploc bag of dog food. She turned in a wide circle, like she was
memorizing the space, then scrubbed her hands over her face a couple of times
before shaking her head and walking out of sight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Wanting
to get closer, still trying to work out exactly how to approach her without
losing body parts, he straightened away from the tree. The low growl at his back made the hair on his
nape rise in primitive awareness. Slowly
he turned, then braced as the dog padded silently toward him, head down, fangs
bared, eyes filled with hungry promise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">~*~*~*~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Thumbing through the handful of false
identities, a sense of hopelessness swamped her. She’d used them all. Ella Bennett was her current alias, and her
last. Four years of running, hiding, endlessly starting over and yet she’d never imagined this moment, never
thought there would come a time when she’d be out of options. She’d read once
that—just in America alone</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">—over a</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> million people disappeared every year and were never heard
from again.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">How was it possible then
that no matter what she did, how many names she’d used, places she’d left behind…here
she stood, <i>found</i> in the middle of the freaking wilderness.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Sitting
on the edge of her bed, she shuffled through the drivers’ licenses, Social Security
cards, birth certificates. Chloe had
long blond hair—a wig that had itched like crazy—and blue eyes, contacts that
also irritated by the end of each day.
Sara had been a brunette, with brown eyes, frumpy clothes and wire rim
glasses. Jane, blond again, hair short
and spiky, blue-gray contacts. Marissa,
long black wig, brown eyes, lots of tats and piercings, all fake. Ella had been as close to her real self as
she’d been in years: her own auburn hair and hazel eyes. She raised her head and stared across the bedroom
into the mirror above the dresser. Her
face was leaner, eyes calculating and sharp, body honed. There was nothing left of fashionable Katherine
Lancaster, concierge extraordinaire for the exclusive Fordyce Hotel in
Washington, D.C. That woman was well and
truly gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stomach
churning as she forced the memories away, she shoved her alter egos back into
the small zippered pouch, then into the side pocket of a leather pack. Grabbing underwear, socks, another pair of
jeans, two sweaters and a thermal shirt, she crammed them into the bag as well,
then walked into the bathroom. She
filled a small cloth make-up case with bathroom essentials, then grabbing a handful of hair ties, a brush and the first aid kit, she walked to
the bed and stuffed everything into the pack with the other items. After another long look around, her heart
aching at having to leave a place she’d finally thought would be her home, she
went back to the kitchen and dropped the pack next to the saddlebags.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
plan was to leave as soon as it got dark. She wasn’t leaving in her car, or going down the drive to the highway</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">, just in case Scary Biker Dude was out there somewhere on the road waiting for her.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> In the nearly two years she’d lived in her
cabin, she and Ace had hiked, camped and explored the area for miles in every
direction. She had an escape route in
case of emergency, a safe passage through the forest that she’d never thought
would be necessary, not after all this time.
So stupid. And stupid would get
her killed if she didn’t get her head back in the game.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Opening
the hall closet, she punched in the code for the safe and took out three boxes
of ammo for her pistol, two extra clips and a box of bullets for the rifle,
stashing everything in the pockets of her winter parka along with a small gun cleaning kit she’d found in Montana at a military supply store. Her
eyes closed as another glimpse into the past bubbled to the surface.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Missoula. Running on empty, no idea where to go after
leaving Wichita two days before, she’d been reading the local newspaper at a
diner on the outskirts of town. She
always had a book or a paper when she was in a public place. It kept people away and gave her a reason to
keep her head down. On that day, eating
a piece of very tasty cherry pie, she read an ad for survival training being
taught in the Rocky Mountains at a compound close to the Montana/Canadian border; an intensive
three-week program, catering to body guards, security personnel and retrieval
agents. She finished her pie and drove
north.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It
had taken some serious convincing, but eventually Mike had let her take the
course. It had been a defining moment
for her, changing everything. Mike said
she was a natural, Lisa argued that it was time women were included in their
training program. And she'd learned how to survive in almost any situation. Against her better
judgment she’d stayed on for a few weeks after the course finished because she
really liked Mike and Lisa and it had been so long since she’d allowed herself
to make friends. She helped out around
the compound, then one day discovered the kennels. One look shared between her and a
two-year-old Rottweiler named Menace and the rest was history. Mike said the dog was promised to someone
else, but when he saw the instant connection, he gave in. It took a huge chunk of change, but she didn’t
regret a penny. He was the best thing
that had ever happened to her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When
Mike and Lisa tried to get her to open up, made overtures that she could stay and work for them, she knew it was time to go. It
was hard, almost too hard. She’d made
her first friends in years, but she also realized her mistake. Her life had been reduced to a few simple rules: Head down, keep moving, no contact, but for a brief moment in time she'd forgotten all three.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Shaking
her head to dislodge the thoughts, she lifted out the last bundle of cash. The twenty thousand would have kept her safe
in her forest hideaway for a long time, but now she had to move and with no
destination in mind, no ID to cover her ass—which meant finding someone to make
a new set—the money was going to be gone before she knew it. With a sigh, she closed the safe and grabbed
her jacket, gloves, wool scarf and hat. Dumping
them on the kitchen counter next to the rest of the gear, she glanced out the
window at the gathering dusk. Almost
time to leave. Going to the back door, she whistled
for Ace, surprised he wasn’t already waiting on the porch. With a frown when he didn’t come bounding
into the house, she paused, trying to think how long it had been since
she’s seen him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Maybe
twenty minutes? While cleaning the
kitchen she’d watched him chase a squirrel around the side of the house, then
before going into the bedroom to pack, she’d seen him stalking something in the
woods by the big Ponderosa pine. Still,
no matter the temptations, it wasn’t like him not to come running the minute
she whistled or called.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She
walked to the front door, opened it and pushed the screen. Even in the forest gloom, the bright white
card that Scary Biker Guy had flicked at her seemed to glow on the
landing. She bent to pick it up, then
heard an odd snuffling noise to her right.
Her hand whipped to her back, the Ruger out and pointed before she had
fully straightened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
sight before her was so strange and inexplicable, she froze in jaw-dropping
astonishment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Her
dog.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Her beloved partner was laying on
his back, feet in the air, all one hundred and thirty pounds of lethal sprawled
across Scary Biker Guy’s lap.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">The guy
who was currently sitting on the porch, lounging with his back against her
house, rubbing Ace’s stomach while the dog's tongue
hung nearly to the ground in rapturous joy.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">
</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">But it was the man's wicked grin and his expression as he held her
gaze that made her finger itch to shoot the smug right off the rat bastard's face.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-46613143365819031762014-12-11T21:07:00.001-08:002015-03-09T18:01:37.681-07:00No Place To Hide - Chapter One<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> As
she started to pull the last cookie sheet out of the oven, the soft purr of a
motorcycle in the distance sent ice down her spine while the blast of heat from
the oven billowed around her. The
combination made her whole body shiver. Closing
her eyes, she focused, quickly estimating sound and location, judging how much
time she had. When the purr grew louder—Harley
by the throaty rumble—she spun, tossed the cookie sheet into the sink and ran
toward the hall, Menace on her heels, his deep growl announcing that someone was
determined enough to ignore the No Trespassing signs, the double-locked steel
gate and two miles of bad mountain road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Wrenching the knob to the hall closet door, she tapped a code into the key pad on the right-side
wall. Before the gun safe had opened completely, she had the Ruger in her hand and was reaching for
the clip. Menace was standing by the front windows, his growls deeper, hackles standing straight up like the Rottweiler
version of a Mohawk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Quiet,”
she murmured, “stand down, Ace.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> The
glare as he looked over his shoulder at the command was so male, she wanted to laugh. “No tearing a lost biker
limb from limb, my man. Let’s see who’s
come calling first.” She grinned at his low
grumble of dissent, though Ace obeyed and sat facing the front door, no doubt hoping
a tasty chew toy was headed his way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Slapping the clip in place, racking a bullet in the chamber, she tucked the pistol at the
small of her back, then quickly unbuckled her belt and added a sheath with her
favorite blade, re-buckled and covered both weapons with her long flannel shirt.
Just as she reached for her rifle the motorcycle’s engine cut off in front of
the house. Ace stood, going rigid in the
sudden silence, his intensity ramping up to ballistic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Stock
tucked into her side, she held the rifle in a loose grip and walked to the
door. Laying a hand on the dog’s head,
she bent and whispered in his ear, “Down, Ace.
If this goes bad, you’re my secret weapon.” He held her gaze, refusing to move away from the door for a moment, then reluctantly dropped to the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Opening
the thick oak door, she pushed on the screen and walked out onto the
porch. The afternoon sun had warmed the
boards and felt good under her bare feet as she crossed the landing, her eyes
on the man still sitting astride his bike, hands on the grips, long legs
balancing the heavy weight with ease.
The Harley was old, a bit beat up, but it was easy to see there was history between the man and his ride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> They
stared at each other over the fifteen feet that separated them, though she was
at a disadvantage: his mirrored aviators blocked any chance of seeing his eyes.
That annoyed her. She shifted the rifle,
raising the barrel a few inches. “You speak
English?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> He
lifted a leg over the bike, hit the kickstand, then sat sideways on the seat
and stretched out his legs, crossing one ankle over the other. “Yeah, I speak English. What kind of question is that?” His voice was rough, rumbling from deep in his chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “You
<i>understand</i> English?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> He
scowled. “What the—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> She
cut him off. “Because I’m wondering what
you’re doing on my property, two miles off a dirt road that’s ten miles off the
highway, <i>not</i> reading a dozen No Trespassing
signs, or understanding a locked gate means the difference between my privacy
and you sitting on that bike in front of my house.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> He
stood, took a step toward her. She
raised the rifle higher, held her ground.
Standing, he was huge and every inch of his six and a half feet screamed dangerous. Arms loose at his sides, he stopped and said softly, “Cut right to it
then. You know a Chloe Jones?” When she didn’t respond, he began a
litany. “Sara Matthews? Jane Franks?
Marissa Wilson? Ella Bennett?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Outwardly,
she didn’t give herself away, but hearing each name conjured images of the past and
fear rocked through her belly. Chloe <i>Chicago</i>.
Sara <i>Wichita</i>. Jane <i>Missoula</i>. Marissa <i>Portland</i>. Ella <i>log
cabin in northern California wilderness staring at a man who had no business
knowing any of this.</i> She was only
marginally relieved that the only name <i>not</i>
flying out of his mouth was her real one.
“Nope, never heard of those women and if you’re looking to add to your harem, I’m
not interested.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> He
took off his shades, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. She
took the moment to study him. Broad shoulders, dark brown hair tangled
from riding with no helmet, long enough to touch the collar of his black leather jacket. His tee shirt, faded jeans and scuffed boots
were also black—his go-to color then. And damn he was big. If he got too close, she wouldn't stand a
chance against his brute strength. Then
he raised his head and speared her with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Even from a distance the color was
mesmerizing, vivid and intense, like falling into the heart of a sapphire. He might be the poster boy for badass, and
with those eyes, chiseled face and a body women probably worshiped on a
regular basis, it was obvious he was a player. A major one, with too much information about
her and an unknown agenda. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> She
opened her mouth to order him off her property, but he spoke first, low and
serious. “You’re in danger here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Yeah,</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">” she snorted,</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">and I’m looking right at
it.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> He
took a step. She raised the rifle. He cocked his head. “You willing to shoot me?” he asked, a hint
of laughter in his voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “I
learned a long time ago that if you point it, you’d best be prepared to follow
through.” She smiled through cold eyes,
the rifle not wavering from a spot dead center on his chest. “I don’t know you, you’re trespassing on my land,
I’m a woman alone in the middle of nowhere.
You think I’m <i>not</i> willing?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “<i>Fuck</i>,” he growled under his breath, no
longer amused.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Like
I said,” she snapped, “don’t know those women or why you want them, so you need
to saddle up and go before somebody gets hurt.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Turning
his back, he walked a few paces then stopped and bowed his head, hands clasped
over his nape. She let her grip loosen
and lowered the rifle for a moment to relieve some of the tension in her arms. At her back Ace chuffed softly at the bottom of the
screen door, growing agitated by the confrontation.
She knew how he felt. While her
stomach roiled and her mind played a continuous loop of bad memories, she kept
her eyes locked on the man. Goddamn
it. She loved her little cabin, her hard-earned safe<i> </i>life. Now she had to run. Again.
<i>Goddamn it!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Hey mister,” she half shouted at his back, “I
need you gone. I’ve—” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Okay,
here’s the deal,” the guy barked as he spun to face her. “No bullshit now. I know it’s you, all of
those names belong to <i>you</i>. I’ve been tracking you for weeks. I don’t know your reasons for playing hide
and seek. Yet.” He paused, nailed her
with a look. “But I will.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Her
eyes iced over, the rifle again aimed steadily in his direction. Raising both
hands, palms out, he said quickly, “Hold on now, just hear me out.” After a long stare she tipped her chin in the
barest acquiescence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “My
brother sent me to find you.” Scowling,
he lowered his arms. “Though I’m
beginning to wonder why he thought you needed help.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “I
don’t.” She hesitated for a second, then
asked sharply, “Who’s your brother?” Her only mistake in four years might have just come back to bite her on the ass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Two
years ago you took a survival course in Montana. My brother was your instructor. He liked you, his wife liked you, hell, I
heard even his damn <i>dog</i> liked
you. Mike knew you were in some kind of
trouble, wanted to help, but you left before he could offer.” He took a deep breath, then said evenly,
“Month or so ago he hears questions are being asked about a certain
woman.” He took a step toward her. “My brother had a hunch, called me, I did
some poking around. I followed a lead,
worked my way back and forth across the country, took a photo off a security
video at the bookstore where Sara Matthews worked in Portland, showed it to
Mike. That woman looked real familiar to
him, even with the short, blond wig.” H</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">is
gaze swept over her, taking in the tumble of auburn hair, the alabaster skin. She'd felt secure enough here to be herself. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After I left the military, I started my own business, but also do contract
work, sometimes for my brother. I’m good
at surveillance, better at digging deep.”
His voice lowered, eyes locked with hers as he strode closer, paused a few feet from the bottom step and looked up at her. “Best at finding things.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Stalling
for time, mind racing, she decided to drop the clueless act. He knew who she was—or thought he did—so maybe
admitting it would get rid of him faster, because if he could find her, <i>they</i> could too. “I don’t remember hearing anything
about a brother.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Not
around much, mostly on the road or out of the country.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> She
stiffened. “So what, you’re some kind of
bounty hunter?” Her eyes narrowed as her
grip tightened on the rifle. “You can <i>claim</i>
to be Mike’s brother all day long and it still won’t mean a thing. You’re trespassing.” Her eyes blazed. “Get off my property.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Holding
her gaze, he slowly reached into his jacket, pulled out a small white card and
flicked it toward the porch. She didn’t move, didn’t try to catch it, didn’t
break eye contact. The card bounced off her left leg and landed at her feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> A
hint of respect flashed in his eyes for an instant before he muttered, “I’ve
been all over the world, fought my share of battles, hung with some good men
and bad, but I gotta say woman, you’re damn cool under pressure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> She
shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter what your
little card says. For one, anything can
be faked, and for another,” she gestured with the rifle toward the Harley,
“you’re leaving. Yesterday.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Now
honey, here’s the thing. I promised my
brother I’d find you. I did. I also promised him I would take care of you until he says it's safe.” He took his last step before hitting the
stairs. “I intend to do just that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Well
<i>honey</i>, here’s <i>my</i> thing. Get on your ride,
head back to wherever you came from and along the way tell your brother I
appreciate his concern, but I don’t need anyone’s help.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Okay,
that’s it,” the man barked in frustration as he moved to climb
the steps. “I’m only trying—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Before
he could finish, there was a low, deeply serious growl from behind the screen
door, followed immediately by a crash as it flew open and slammed into the side
of the house. A dog, huge, bristling,
and way into the red zone stood solid beside the woman, vibrating with barely
controlled aggression, dark lips curled back over sharp teeth. The man stood frozen, one foot on the bottom
step, held in place by the dog’s hard, unwavering focus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “I
think that’s your cue to leave,” the woman said quietly. He lifted his eyes, caught the smirk, knew
she’d won this round. One side of his
mouth tipped up in grudging admiration, then he slowly backed away from the porch. “If it will make things easier, tell Mike
thanks, but like I said, I take care of myself.” She gestured toward the Harley with her
rifle. “Please. Go away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> He
cocked his head, scanned her from head to toe, and stared intently at the dog
for a long moment before turning on his heels. Kicking the motorcycle to life, he adjusted his
hands on the grips and slowly maneuvered the half-circle turn in her dirt and
pine needle drive. He stopped for a
brief, taut moment, looking from her to the dog, then without another word slowly
rode out of sight. She listened to the
low, unmistakable rumble of the Harley for several minutes until silence returned to the forest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Good
boy, Ace, good boy.” She lowered the
rifle and reached down to scratch behind one of the dog's ears. “Extra treats
for that dramatic entrance.” Smiling,
she turned and let them both into the house.
Heading toward the kitchen, the dog at her side, she began to laugh. “You accomplished more in one minute than I
did in ten with a loaded weapon.” She propped
the rifle near the back door and opened the pantry, grabbing two large dog
biscuits. “You eat these, then I’ll let you
out while I pack things up.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Menace, dangerous and lethal when necessary, sat with tongue lolling and tail twitching, waiting patiently for his treats. Gently he took first one, then the other from her hand, crunching happily. When the last crumb was gone, she opened the back door and ordered quietly, </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Patrol</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">”</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He stood on the porch for a minute, head raised to sniff the air, then charged down the steps and began to circle the house, searching for something to chase, or better yet, something to catch.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-4301729145967414032014-08-01T00:13:00.001-07:002014-08-01T00:28:51.830-07:003. Leap Of Faith<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Kardeeb shoved an elder out of his path and started toward Rafe.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">“Are you saying this woman is </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">not</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> yours?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">His dark, beady eyes heated as he stared avidly at the unconscious woman.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“No, I didn’t say that.” Rafe held the woman against him with one large hand on her back, using the other to reach under his djellaba for the bag of gold. Tossing it at Kardeeb, he said tersely, “Your payment. We're done.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Snatching the money pouch out of the air as it flew toward him, a cruel smile spread over the Mor’Abat’s face. “I think not, my friend.” Gesturing at the two guards, he shouted, “Seize them!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Before the words had left Kardeeb’s mouth, Rafe had tossed the woman over his shoulder to free his fighting arm and was on the move. It wasn</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">’</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">t</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> his habit to unman a guy, but outnumbered, one-handed and hampered by dead weight, Rafe didn’t hesitate to boot the first guard in the balls and snatch the man’s sword as he dropped with a low, guttural cry.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">In the slight pause as the second guard eyed the painful writhing of his fellow tribesman, Rafe lunged forward, smashed his fist into the man's face and ran for the exit.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The two men who’d taken his weapons had scimitars drawn, blocking the only way out of the pavilion. Behind him Kardeeb was screaming for his weapon, women wailed in high-pitched ululations, and the elders scrambled frantically to distance themselves from imminent bloodshed. Rafe smiled, tossed the sword aside and pulled the cloth fully away from his face. As the guards stared, transfixed in horror, Rafe slammed into one, sending him in a violent spin out of the tent, then wrenched his Jambiya out of the second man’s belt and hammered the pommel down on his head with a satisfying crack.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">His way was clear, but now there was a loud, growing commotion outside the pavilion. Over the chaotic sounds at his back, Rafe could hear the shouts of men rushing toward the Mor’Abat’s tent. Spinning to his left, leaping over cushions and cook pots, he ran to the far wall, slashed an opening and vaulted through.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">~~**~~**~~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Master Treb!” The shout from above was sharp, edged with excitement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Treb looked up at the small enclosure circling the topmast. Henri leaned precariously over the edge of the wooden basket as if she could get closer to the image in her spyglass. “Aye lass,” he shouted back. “You see him?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“He’s on the run.” She looked down at Treb, her grin slightly feral. “With half the Red Tribe on his arse.” Laughing exuberantly, she climbed out of the basket, danced like a monkey along the yard and down the rigging, landing gracefully in front of Treb. Henri was small, lithe, with a delicate face, guileless blue eyes and freckles sprinkled in a band across her nose. She wore her thick auburn hair in two long braids, tied at the ends in bows of silk ribbon, color determined by her mood; today they were blood-red. She exuded a child-like innocence, an illusion she cultivated. No one ever saw stone-cold lethal, until it was too late.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Guns primed and ready, Master Treb,” she said with glee. “Time for a bit of fun?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Aman!” Treb bellowed. He walked to the port side, raising his own spyglass as the quartermaster joined him at the rail. “All provisions and supplies aboard? Jai-Li’s medical paraphernalia? The ballonets of lifting gas?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Aye, we’re loaded to the gunnels, ready to sail at your word.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Lowering the spyglass, Treb turned, gave both Henri and Aman a broad smile and said, “Then let's go get the captain.”</span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">With a loud whoop, Henri ran forward to the three men who worked under her command in munitions. Handpicked and trained to her exacting standards, they could handle any weapon with calm efficiency, including the two long cannon protruding through either side of the prow. Running a hand along one sleek barrel, stroking it like a beloved pet, Henri smiled at her team in anticipation.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Treb kept his spyglass on the area outside the el-Ahmar compound as the </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Dark Wind </i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">began to ease away from the docking poles, bracing himself against the rail as the ship gently moved forward. The soft whisper of lifting gas, drawn from a ballonet in the chamber beneath the deck, was as sweet as a lover’s kiss to his ears. Rafe might love wind billowing the sails, but for Treb, liquid helion transformed into lifting gas that would allow an airship to fly? Well, that was just magical, as far as he was concerned.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Rafe suddenly came into view. Treb frowned and quickly spun the outer brass ring on his spyglass to bring the image closer as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing: Rafe, firmly gripping a body draped over his shoulder before disappearing behind a row of tents. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Aware Rafe’s plan had been to get in and out with the least amount of damage and make his way back to the ship by nightfall with Elissa, Treb knew the body had just buggered that scheme. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">As a large group of red-clad tribesmen began to spread out in a search pattern around the marketplace, Treb barked an order to the helmsman, directing him toward the center of the city.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">~~**~~**~~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Rafe set the woman down, then crouched in the narrow space between two tents. Slumped against </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">his thigh, her head lolled and she softly groaned.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Rafe leaned close to whisper, “Hush. No sounds.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">He watched her eyelids flutter as she struggled to lift them, but then she shuddered and went limp.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Sliding his dagger into its sheath, Rafe put a hand to her neck and quietly waited to feel a pulse, his mind racing with questions.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">He went still at the approach of running feet and harsh voices.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Kardeeb’s men were close.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Laying the woman flat on the ground, Rafe stretched out beside her, gathered her close and swiftly rolled them under the bottom edge of the nearest tent. He had chosen this area of the market for its selection of rugs, carpets and silks, tents that would provide ample places to hide. Pleased to discover row after row of colorful bolts of material, Rafe burrowed into a mound of sky-blue silk and held the woman against his body, one hand around her waist, the other securing her head beneath his chin, ready to cover her mouth if she made the slightest noise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Minutes passed while Rafe listened to Kardeeb's men searching, shouting, threatening. He breathed easier when the sounds moved further away, giving him a chance not only to consider his next move, but to ponder the unconscious woman. What was wrong with her anyway? Had she been drugged, or was she one of those females prone to swooning? And if that were the case, what insane circumstance had brought her—and supposedly Elissa—to this uncivilized and brutal corner of the world? </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Rafe shook his head. Answers would have to wait for now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> Prepared to rest until full dark, he was just getting comfortable when a familiar dark shadow passed over the tent, followed by a swelling roar of outrage and fury. Rafe laughed out loud. It was strictly forbidden to fly over the city, yet his crew were blatantly making a point by putting themselves <i>above</i> the rulers of the Four Tribes. And from the sound of it, the entire city was howling for blood.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Still chuckling at the audacity of his crew, Rafe eased his large frame over the woman's body, gently wedged her back into the fabric niche and slipped out the tent. Looking skyward he caught a glimpse of the rudder and the starboard propeller before the ship was out of sight. Digging under his robe for the small reflecting device that all airship sailors carried, he pulled out the round disk—a comfortable fit in the palm of his hand—and rubbed the battered, tarnished metal. It was probably time to get a newer, shinier version, but this one held far too many memories in each scratch and dent to ever be replaced.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Flicking up the lid, he walked to a small path that ran behind the silk merchant's tent and waited. When his ship came back around, Rafe quickly lined up the reflecting mirror with the sun and shot a beam of light toward the <i>Dark Wind</i>. The response was immediate. Flashes traveled back and forth until both he and his crew knew exactly what to do and where to rendezvous. Hurrying back to the tent, he yanked up the edge and pulled the still unconscious woman out of her hiding place. Settling her over his shoulder once more, he stood in the shadows, tense and ready.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">When the first explosion shook the ground, sending shock waves through the tents, Rafe took off, running toward the center of the market. He plowed into a few guards, too busy shouting up at the airship before being knocked flat and barely avoided a large, irate group of fist-waving tribesmen. Sliding around a corner, the fountain in sight, he hurdled over a fruit cart, and jabbed a hard fist into the nose of a basket merchant who foolishly tried to grab him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Overhead he heard a crazed laugh—Henri in her element—followed by another explosion just as the hawser dropped through a veil of smoke and dangled near the fountain. Tightly gripping the woman, Rafe put on a final burst of speed, bounded off the rim of the fountain and with a flying leap, grabbed the thick rope as the <i>Dark Wind </i>rapidly ascended. Grinning, heart pounding, he savored the heady rush of exhilaration that thrummed through his body as he was quickly hoisted aloft.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Treb was there to help him aboard, then they laughed with shared relief. “Excellent rescue, my man,” Rafe said, pounding his second on the back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“It was a joy to see you move, boy. A pure joy.” His gold tooth sparkled in the sun. “And that great leap at the end?” Treb shook his head in amazement. “Songs should be written.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Rafe started to laugh again, but the woman stirred, reminding him that he couldn't plot their course until he had the necessary information. Swinging her off his shoulder, Rafe carried her determinedly toward his quarters, a frowning Treb on his heels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“If memory serves, Cap’n, wasn't your brother’s wife a small and dainty thing?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Aye, indeed she was. This is not Elissa. I don’t know who this is, but I aim to find out right now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Stalking into his cabin, Rafe laid the woman in his berth, thoughts already on reviving her with the brandy in the bottom drawer of his desk. As he turned, a shocked gasp from Treb stopped him cold. “What? What's wrong?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Damnation boy, you never said you were hurt!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“I’m not.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“What's all that then?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Rafe peered down at his blood-soaked djellaba, met Treb’s gaze, then they both stepped toward the bed and looked at the woman. Her hood had fallen back, revealing blue-tinged lips in shocking contrast to her white, nearly translucent face. Frail, labored breaths sounded ominous in the quiet cabin as the two men stared at several wet, dark patches on the front of her brown robe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“She doesn’t get to die until I have answers,” Rafe hissed. “Find Jai-Li.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-69765520007594900682014-07-09T20:40:00.001-07:002014-07-31T11:18:41.990-07:002. Complications<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Rafe
let go of the rope several feet from the ground, dropping easily to the wooden
dock. He didn’t have to glance back to
know it had been quickly draw up behind him; no one would be given the
slightest chance to board the <i>Dark Wind</i>
in his absence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Nearly
a head taller than most of the local residents, he tried not to draw attention
to himself. Rounding his broad shoulders
and stooping slightly, he walked toward the center of the city and in the quiet
of the early morning had no trouble sensing the three shadows at his back,
men he’d easily spotted while being lowered from the airship. Although expecting the unwanted company, he had no intention of arriving at the el-Ahmar compound until he was damn good
and ready, so losing them was vital.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">But
first, a good strong cup of caffé was in order and if things hadn’t changed over
the last thirteen years, he knew just the place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Half
an hour later, Rafe sat at a small table under the awning of a colorful orange
and yellow tent, sipping his second cup of the dark, rich brew Ha’Roon was
famous for. One side of his face
remained hidden, but he’d loosened a corner of the cloth to drink the
caffé. Savoring the delicious drink, his
gaze focused on the <i>Dark Wind</i> in the
distance. Surrounded by the other ships—large
frigates, provision carriers and a few pleasure balloons—tethered along the
harbor pilings, she stood apart from them like a jewel. Watching a large wooden pallet, laden with
bundles and baskets, being hoisted to the supplies hold, Rafe didn’t need his
spying glass to see that Treb and Hamson were directing the lift and that Aman’s
skill in procuring anything, anywhere remained true, even in Ha’Roon. She would be ready to sail well before
nightfall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Rafe’s
eyes wandered over the sleek lines of his ship as he took another taste of the
strong, potent drink. Her hull gleamed with a richness that rivaled the ebony
hue of his caffé, the Piedra wood light as air, durable as stone; her sails,
black silk woven from the strongest threads, had been made in a tiny village on
an obscure island in the Sea of Storms by a handful of ancient, skilled women—repayment
for saving Jai-Li, though in truth, she had saved him first. The <i>Dark
Wind’s</i> decks and rails were hewn from the Canela tree, the heady scent of
cinnamon permeated the air whenever it rained.
There was nothing more exhilarating to him than watching those sails
fill with wind, and feel the power surge beneath his feet as she raced through
the skies, glorious and free.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Never
could he have imagined, as he lay dying in the jungles of Amazonia, that his
fevered dreams and ramblings would result in such an exotic and beautiful
vessel, the one thing left in this world that he truly loved.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">His
musings were interrupted by a slight shift in the air behind him. Leaping to
his feet, Rafe pivoted and grabbed the man’s raised arm in one fluid motion,
twisting it painfully until the cudgel dropped with a clatter onto the table before
rolling to the ground. Hard, icy gray
eyes narrowed on his assailant. “You
spilled my caffé.” Pulling the
struggling man toward him, Rafe hissed, “Tell your Mor’Abat I will see him
soon.” Then he bent lower, purposefully
allowing the shemagh cloth to shift, revealing the whole of his features. He only had to wait a moment before shock washed
over the man’s face, his eyes wide in disbelief. Satisfied at the reaction, Rafe shoved the
man away, waiting until the el-Ahmar spy had disappeared before quickly covering
his face and entering the caffé seller’s tent.
Nodding to the old man seated next to a large samovar, Rafe slipped out
the back, the delicious aroma of freshly brewed caffé floating in the air
behind him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Standing
in the gloom between two large tents, Rafe looked across the dusty market
street and watched as two men joined the one who had tried to bash him over the
head a few moments ago. Agitated, the
man punctuated his account with wild, slashing gestures toward his face as the
other two listened in dawning horror. Rafe chuckled quietly to himself,
perversely amused that all it had taken to rid himself of the Mor’Abat shadows
had been to show his face.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">~~**~~**~~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">A
few hours later, Rafe had managed to slip past the compound’s armed guards,
then narrowly avoided a run-in with his three shadows, fortunately too busy hurrying
toward the great tent at the end of a long, wide avenue to notice him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">After
carefully searching numerous tents for Elissa, he was concerned to hear she was
being kept isolated and under guard in a small tent next to the Mor’Abat’s pavilion. Rafe had hoped for a simple rescue, though that
had been more wishful thinking than a belief that things would ever be that easy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">With
one final look over his shoulder at the <i>Dark
Wind</i>, Rafe stepped out of the shadows and walked across the avenue toward the
two men standing guard on either side of the pavilion’s main entrance. They stiffened when he approached and drew
their swords, bristling with hostility as if he had appeared from thin air by some
foul magic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“The
el-Ahmar’s most illustrious and benevolent ruler is expecting me.” He nodded his head slightly, glad the shemagh
hid the grin behind his bullshit. “Tell the exalted one that Batiste is here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">One
of the guards turned sharply and strode into the tent while the other blocked
the opening with his body and the wicked scimitar used by all the desert
tribes. Rafe waited patiently, appearing
completely at ease though he was aware of everything around him even as myriad
obstacles, plans and scenarios played through his mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The
first guard reappeared and motioned him inside, holding wide one side of the
tent flap. Rafe ducked through the
opening, then stood for a moment to get his bearings while his eyes adjusted to
the more subdued lighting after the harsh desert sun. When his weapons were taken, he didn’t
protest, nor did he volunteer the blade in his boot when the guards overlooked
it in their excitement with his pistol and Jambiya. Rafe made a mental note of which guard held the
dagger. He didn’t care about the pistol,
but he definitely wasn't going to lose a weapon that had been earned under fire and paid
for in blood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">A
prod at his back moved Rafe forward into an opulent and flamboyant space.
Blood-red dominated, in the silken cushions and pillows, in the beautifully
woven carpets, and the long, gossamer streamers that covered the walls and draped
in billowy folds from the vaulted ceiling, the slightest hint of air giving
them graceful movement. Several women
worked at various chores around the fringes of the room, and a score of tribal
elders sat cross-legged on the floor, divided equally along both sides of the
central aisle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">At
the far end of the room on a raised platform, lounging casually against a mound
of cushions, Kardeeb, leader of el-Ahmar, the Red Tribe, was being fed large, ruby-colored
grapes by one of his handmaidens. An ugly
man, with an enormous, bulbous nose, small black eyes, and hair of an odd,
burnished shade of copper that hung in dozens of braided tangles past his
shoulders. A long, thin mustache,
framing a cruel mouth, was woven into a wiry beard that reached the middle of
his chest. His robe was brilliant red, the
hem and sleeves edged with intricate designs stitched in gold thread.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Rafe wasn't fooled by the nonchalant posturing.
The malevolent glitter in the man’s eyes was clearly evident, even from
a distance. Out of respect, he partially
uncovered his face, bowed deep, then carefully said, “I am arrived, Mor’Abat,
as requested.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Kardeeb
slapped the girl’s hand away, several grapes bouncing down the steps of the
platform and rolling across the carpet.
He sat up, stiff and angry. “You
are here, but not as requested! You
should have come before me the moment you arrived in Ha’Roon, as is required by
tribal law.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Slowly
walking down the center of the room, Rafe said softly, tempering the edge of his
own anger. “I have not broken tribal law.
I am not the accused, I am the negotiator.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Murmurs
rose and fell between the elders.
Kardeeb waved a hand for silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“And
yet, your past transgressions have assuredly broken—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“I
am not here to answer for whatever crimes you imagine have been committed in
the past, Kardeeb. Although, if you want
to get personal, I could lay several at <i>your</i>
feet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Leaping
off the cushions, Kardeeb began shouting and stomping across the platform, sending
pillows flying as he viciously kicked them out of his way, servants cowering from
his rage. Swallowing his loathing of the
man, Rafe took a deep breath, determined not be goaded into making a mistake…like
killing the bastard in a room full of his loyal tribesmen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When
Kardeeb paused in his rant for breath, Rafe interjected calmly, “You have my
brother’s woman. I am here to pay the
death penalty fees as required by your laws. There is nothing else to
discuss.” He hesitated, his next words risky
if he was wrong, but he had to keep Kardeeb from doing something stupid, and
right now, stalling was the only idea he had.
Certain the flag of el-Azraq—the Blue Tribe—had </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">not</i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> been flying over that ruler’s pavilion—meaning the Mor’Abat wasn't in residence for a legal ruling on tribal law—Rafe murmured, “Don’t force me to
call for an arbitration of the Four, Kardeeb.
All it would take is one word.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“You
dare threaten me?” Kardeeb spat, hate
thick in his throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Ignoring
the question, Rafe said, “Instead, here’s my proposal: You take the money,
we go merrily on our way, and I don’t bring the wrath of the <i>Dark Wind</i> down upon your heads.” At Kardeeb’s shout of outrage, Rafe raised a
hand to forestall another long, boring tirade and walked determinedly to the base
of the platform. Coldly he said, “Enough,
Kardeeb. I want to see my brother’s
wife. Now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The
two men faced off, barely an inch between them as the anger grew; a small spark—a
word, a gesture—and the fire would ignite.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Sensing
the danger, six of the elders quickly approached. Rafe allowed one old man to push him back a foot
or so, then ignoring the furious hissing and sharp rebuttals of the group, he
was contemplating how best to retrieve his dagger with a minimum of bloodshed, when
Kardeeb barked an order. In the sudden
silence, Rafe heard a small commotion at his back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Turning,
he watched as a tall, slender woman was brought into the tent. Completely covered in the drab brown robes of
a servant, with a veil hiding her face, she shuffled toward him, held at the upper
arms by two of his shadows. When the
figure was a few feet away from where Rafe stood, Kardeeb ordered them to halt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This isn't right, Rafe thought. Granted, he hadn’t seen Elissa in well over a
decade, but how would she have grown taller in that time? Surely his memory of a small, delicate woman held
more truth than this female standing before him now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Take
off the veil,” he ordered. “Let me see your face.” When she made no move to comply, Rafe began
to laugh. He glared over his shoulder at the treacherous Mor'Abat. “You think to trick me with
one of your slaves? You will get nothing
but dishonor for this deceit, Kardeeb.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The
promise of a reckoning in his voice, Rafe stepped close to the woman. “Where
did you get my brother’s ring?” Before
anyone could react, his hand shot out, ripping the veil off her head. The hood
of the robe kept him from seeing her clearly, though dark green eyes met his,
swimming with unshed tears, bright with pain. He growled low in his throat. “Who are—?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> His words were choked off when she wrenched away
from the guards and threw her arms around his neck. “Please,” she whispered frantically in his
ear, “you must help me. Elissa was taken
in the desert. She gave me the ring,
made me hide, told me to find you.” Rafe
felt every tremor in the body pressed against him; felt heartbeats racing in
her chest, felt the struggle as she tried to breathe. “Please, you have my vow to tell you
everything, just help me get away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">With
her voice ringing in his ears, Rafe pulled back and looked full into her face,
just in time to watch her eyes roll back in her head and he found himself reluctantly
holding an unconscious stranger in his arms instead of the woman he’d come to
rescue. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Damn. Here was a scenario that had never crossed his mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-66124522224509919582014-06-20T09:39:00.001-07:002014-07-31T11:19:24.871-07:001. Demands Are Made<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tales From The <i>Dark Wind</i></span></b></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Prologue</div>
<br /></div>
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> At the dawn of time, the earth
was a vast supercontinent surrounded by churning seas. Over millions of years,
in endless cycles, the land shifted, broke apart and reformed; islands rose and
fell, mountains crumbled, oceans ebbed, ice conquered and retreated. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Eventually life,
in all its myriad diversity, covered the earth. Dinosaurs ruled with a
ferocious tenacity until falling stars burned through the skies destroying everything in lethal balls of fire.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The land drifted,
the seas boiled, air became a poison that eradicated most living things, though
not the burrowers or denizens of the deep oceans. They survived and became stronger, more
adaptable, deadlier.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Eons pass, the
earth settles, and humans begin to evolve.
After thousands of years the structure of civilizations are built; laws
and politics are established; wars are fought in defense of ideologies; borders
and boundaries are claimed and disputed.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">But then, without
warning, another star falls from the sky, striking the southern ice cap, shattering the enormous plate, melting unimaginable tons of ice in mere seconds. The cataclysm that followed scoured the
land as tsunamis tore around the globe in relentless waves, drowning countries, erasing entire populations, ravaging and reshaping the earth once again.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">In the aftermath,
climates changed, air and water currents shifted in wild, turbulent eddies. And Mankind was brought to its knees. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br />
<i style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The New World </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">One Thousand Years Later</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Tethered
fore and aft to iron rings attached to docking poles, the airship <i>Dark Wind</i>, swayed gently
in the warm breeze wafting off the desert. Leaning against the railing, Rafe Batiste absentmindedly wound several lengths of the shemagh around his head as he stared down at the
bustling port below. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> The early morning
light sparkled on the water of the wide seaway that divided the Great Desert from Ha’Roon,
the thriving tent city of the Four Tribes.
From his vantage point, fifty feet above the harbor, the city's colorful layout was beautiful to see. Like a giant wheel with
four spokes, the individual bands of color vividly identified each tribe in reds, blues, greens and golden yellows. At the hub of the wheel, like the many facets of an exotic jewel, the market tents circled the oasis fountain in a burst of rainbow hues. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Rafe could see the merchants rolling up their tent flaps, preparing to open for
business; watched groups of women with jugs and baskets gathering at the fountain to draw water, laugh and gossip. With the sun warming his back, he idly followed
the meandering trail of red tents down the south spoke of the wheel, narrowing
his eyes at the largest tent, the blood-red flag of <i>el-Ahmar</i> fluttering listlessly in the desert air above the Mor’Abat’s stronghold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Of
the Four, the <i>el-Ahmar</i> were the most
mercenary, the least likely to negotiate.
Die now, talk later was their preferred method, unless substantial
amounts of money, jewels or favors were involved in the bargaining. In Ha’Roon, the leaders of each tribe ruled
with ruthless authority, none more so than the man Rafe was soon to meet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Leaving
a long flap of cloth hanging over his shoulder, Rafe gripped the rail and
stared into the distance at the endless, undulating sand dunes that filled the horizon past the city gates. He let his thoughts wander, running through every possible scenario as he tried to anticipate what might arise in the coming meeting, but there were just too many variables, too much that didn't add up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="tab-stops: right 6.5in; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“I reckon this could be a trap, Cap’n,” Treb murmured, coming to stand beside him. “Any one of those desert rats would sell their favorite harem girl to get
their hands on you again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Rafe
reached inside a pocket in his djellaba. “It most likely is a trap,” he said quietly, “though
I don’t plan on being caught.” He gazed
thoughtfully at the black onyx ring laying in the palm of his hand. The gold band around the stone gleamed in the
sun as he murmured, “I would have ignored the ransom demand if this hadn’t been
wrapped inside the note.” Slipping it back inside his robe, Rafe said, “The last time I saw that ring was thirteen years
ago on my dead brother’s finger.
It would have been given to my sister-in-law on his burial day.” His mouth
twisted in a bitter smile. “An event I did not attend as my father had disowned
me, throwing me out of his house the previous night.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Treb
felt anger burn hot for a moment. He had been there, remembered that night, remembered the lost, broken young airship captain, and a
cruel, heartless father. Shaking his
head to clear the past, he asked, </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">“I just don't understand w</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">hy his widow would have come to this blighted land? How could
she, a pampered society woman, have traveled halfway round the world to this
place? And what was she doing out in the
desert?” They looked toward the massive eastern
wall, a barrier fiercely guarded from all but members of the Four Tribes. To
gain access to the land beyond the formidable gates required permission from
one of the Mor’Abat who ruled in each region, and much money in exchange for
the privilege.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“The
note said she’d been found wandering alone in the <i>el-Ahmar</i> region without authorization. That’s a death penalty transgression, but because she’s not dead and I have the ring, I’m
assuming Elissa told them who I am.” Rafe
tugged the scarf lower over his forehead and wrapped the last piece of cloth across his
face, leaving only a narrow opening for his eyes. “The Mor’Abat no doubt thinks he’s stumbled
upon a fabled cache of lightning gems.
Not only does he have an aristo woman at his mercy for breaking
tribal law, but his enemy, the devil Batiste is coming to bargain for her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“I
don’t like it, Cap’n. I don’t like it
one little bit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Nor do I, but if he has Elissa, I can’t leave her to die. I
owe my brother that much, at least. If she's not here and this is some kind of <i>el-Ahmar</i> plot to seek revenge? Well, I haven’t been
in a good fight to the death lately and I’m in the mood.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> Briefly scanning the scene below, he
focused once again on the blood-red tents, the colors wavering now in the rising
desert heat. “If I’m not back by
nightfall, you know what to do.” Rafe
turned to his ship’s master. “See that she’s
ready to take off at a moment’s notice, Treb.
I don't know how this will play out, but smooth or rough, I'll want
out of here quick. Make
sure Aman gets the food stores list from Bertoni, have him talk to Jai-Li about medical supplies and tell Hamson to load as
much lifting gas as the old girl can hold in her ballonets. Without fail, I want everything on board today.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Nodding at his orders, Treb handed over a small cloth bag. Rafe hefted it, judging the value in the weight of the heavy coins,
then slipped the pouch next to the onyx ring and quickly checked the pistol at
his back, the blade in his boot, and the wickedly curved Jambiya knife strapped
in a sheath on his left side. Reaching
for the hawser attached to a winch near his shoulder, Rafe swung over the
railing, looped a foot around the thick rope and nodded at two crewmen standing by to
lower him to the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Ten
feet below the airship, Rafe looked up and met Treb’s eyes. “Tell Henri to get the guns primed and the
cannons ready, just in case.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Sunlight glinted off the small diamond embedded in one front tooth as Treb grinned broadly. “That’ll
make her day, Cap’n. I’ll go tell her
now.” But before he turned away, the man glared down at him and said roughly, </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">“E</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">xpect you back before dark, boy, no excuses.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Rafe barked a laugh, gave Treb a mocking salute, then cleared
his mind of everything except the immediate trouble. His misfit crew would take care of the ship; now his job was to get everyone out of Ha’Roon alive.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"><i>[FYI: At the top of the page, under the </i>Scribbles<i> blog title, there's a link </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"><i>to a map and brief intro of the </i>Dark Wind<i> world, if anyone is curious]</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small; text-indent: 0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-60268585467606304472014-05-09T12:13:00.001-07:002014-05-09T12:13:23.488-07:00It's A Big Box<br />
I spend a lot of time thinking before I go to sleep. I'm not one of those people that fall asleep the minute their head hits the pillow. I mull, cogitate, review; rehash what's happened during my day, consider what I have to do the next day.<br />
<br />
Last night, in the midnight dark of clear thinking, I wandered through the plot of the story I'd posted earlier in the day. And arrived at the jarring conclusion that I don't like it or where it's headed; that somehow I missed the signs this isn't the tale I want to tell.<br />
<br />
I'd been working on a different story, one wafting in and out of my head for a week or so, but yesterday morning whilst walking the dogs, the wraith story popped into being. Intrigued, I came home and wrote it. Unfortunately, I wish I'd thought it through before posting, figured out beforehand that it wasn't really going to work...or just ignored the distracting whispers in the storytelling part of my brain and stayed focused on my original idea. <br />
<br />
However, the beauty of writing--or the agony, more often than not--is that, as the goddess in charge, these are my creations, my worlds, characters, stories. I can do whatever I want with them and if I don't like any of it...well, into the box at the back of the closet it goes, along with all the other notes and research, lost chapters and stories to nowhere that have filled my head over the years.<br />
<br />
So. I'm forging ahead to write something else, though what that might be is unclear at the moment. Writing is not rocket science...it's much, much harder.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-19893525139701428482014-05-08T18:30:00.002-07:002014-05-09T11:16:38.759-07:00Every Dog Has His Day<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The
wraith stood motionless beneath the trees, his form indistinguishable from the
dark shadows under the thick canopy. His gaze narrowed, intense and
piercing as he focused on the woman angling toward the parking lot as she crossed the east edge of the college
campus. His fists clenched as an
old, vicious rage swept through him. The centuries of torment, the
years of searching, the cruelty in the endless chase. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep, quiet breath and willed those bitter memories away. None of that mattered. Not now. At last he had found her and
nothing was going to stop him from taking her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Nora
Carter glanced uneasily in the direction of the small grove of oak that marked
the end of the campus property. For some reason she felt nervous and unsettled as she stared into the deep shadows. When a voice called
out behind her, she jumped in fear, her heart thumping painfully in her chest. Spinning, she aligned her car keys into small, metal weapons
that poked out between her fingers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Dr.
Carter, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you!” Her
research assistant, Ben Jolson, had been running toward her, but one look at
her face and defensive stance had brought him to an abrupt halt. Eyes wide, he held up both hands as if she were pointing a gun at his head. “You
forgot to give me the encryption code so I can access your manuscript files,”
he murmured cautiously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Taking a
relieved gulp of air, Nora dropped her hand and patted the large laptop case
that hung off one shoulder. “I decided to take the manuscript with
me instead, Ben. I forgot to tell you earlier today.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“But, how
can I proof your research if you have the manuscript?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The
wraith, impatient for the boy to leave, paused for a moment and cocked his
head. Was there something...not quite true in the question? His
focus shifted from the woman to consider the male.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Ben,”
she said gently, “I’m going to be gone for eight weeks. I’m sure at
some point in my vacation I’ll be able to find the time to edit the manuscript
myself.” Nora patted his arm and smiled. “Time for a
break, to enjoy yourself. There’s more to collegiate life than
slaving over a boring old manuscript about ancient rites and rituals.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Please,
Dr. Carter, I’ve been looking forward to this all term. You know how
interested I am in your work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“We’ll
have plenty of time for final edits next term, Ben. Now go, have a great summer
and I'll see you in September.” Nora turned and resumed her
walk toward the parking lot, missing the tight fists as Ben stared darkly at
her receding back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The
wraith saw his reaction, however, and was edging out of the shadows to have a
quick chat with the boy when his senses were overwhelmed by the familiar and
unwelcome stench of an abattoir. He stiffened, braced for the
confrontation he’d been expecting for days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Hot,
rancid breath curled over his nape and around his throat like a garrote. “You
went over my head, dog.” The voice was more a growl of words than
actual speaking, though the wraith had no trouble understanding, he’d been
listening to it for close to four thousand years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“You left
me no choice, Malphas. We struck a bargain, you and I, which I have
fulfilled three times over but you still fail to honor.” He turned
and met the red, fiery gaze of the foul creature he’d called master for far too
long. Unflinching, he leaned in. “I gave you the one thousand and
two hundred years of our pact and did everything you asked of me. My
reward for services rendered was <i>her</i>.” Though the wraith
jerked his chin toward the parking lot and the woman just unlocking her car
door, he never took his eyes off the demon. “Whenever I got close, you
killed her and I had to wait for her rebirth, try to find who she was, <i>when</i> she
was.” Fury in every word, he hissed, "For over two thousand
years you played this game, you bastard.” Straightening, he spared another quick glance for the woman, then faced Malphas
again. “Mistreat a dog long enough and eventually he'll go for his master's throat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Unless
the master has bigger teeth, Niare.” The chuckle was low and
grating, the acrid stink of sulfur burned the back of the wraith’s throat though he refused to acknowledge the demon’s threat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Prince
Seire, <i>your</i> master, has released your hold over me. He
also sent me here, to claim what should have been mine centuries ago.” He
turned his back and walked out of the shadows, his eyes fixed on the car just
driving out of the parking lot. “We’re done, Malphas. Go
find someone else to play fetch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The
ground trembled, but Niare ignored the demon’s tantrum. Shrugging off the
concealing shadows, he began walking toward the boy who was staggering across
the sidewalk, a look of shock on his face as the pavement undulated beneath his
feet. “What is it?” Ben asked. “An earthquake?” Then
he froze as he looked up at the very tall. very large man who had just materialized
out of the trees. Long blond hair, the sides braided away from his
face at the temples to hang behind his ears; strong jaw, arrogant nose, and eyes
the icy blue of a glacier that were currently glaring down at Ben like some
kind of Norse god. Ben’s first thought was all the guy needed was Thor's hammer to complete the picture, which caused him to flinch involuntarily when the
giant reached for him. His mind went
blank before he could form his second thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As soon
as the kid went still, Niare began to search his mind for the meaning behind the tension
he'd noticed just before Malphas appeared. Probing beyond the
surprise and unease of the moment, he easily found the reason: Ben had planned
to steal the research, selling it to someone willing to pay well for the
information in the manuscript. Disgusted at the betrayal, Niare
pulled Ben forward and whispered an incantation into his ear, then shoved him
away and told him to get out of his sight, watching the traitorous little
weasel until he was gone. Then he smiled. The woman’s assistant had
just forgotten he’d ever worked for her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Dog.” The
voice rumbled up through the ground, thick and hot. “Don’t think
you’ve won the game. I might not be able to touch you, but no one
said anything about <i>her</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A cold
awareness crawled into Niare's belly as his wings snapped sharply, painfully,
out of his back. He shot into the dark skies, the sound of hellish laughter
chasing him through the night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-35967219415923876222014-04-03T17:45:00.002-07:002014-04-04T08:13:17.792-07:00Three Plots to Nowhere<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Still stymied with imagination deficit, though I've had a glimmer or two lately. Too bad I can only do a few paragraphs before my thoughts dry up again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Behold! Three plot ideas. And that's about the extent of it...</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><b>Snow
Blind</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The
snow swirled in dizzying eddies, tossed by a wind that grew stronger as the RV
lumbered across the plains of eastern Montana.
As the light began to fade toward evening, visibility became more
obscured, the headlights drawing the flakes with hypnotic allure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Joanne
Henderson peered at the Rand McNally road atlas in her lap, the map light over
her head shining a meager beam as she tried to find them a place to hunker down
until the storm abated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Got anything? Rest area, side road?” The slight concern in Jack’s voice caused Jo
to raise her head and look over at him. Both
hands tightly gripped the wheel as the RV briefly lost traction on the road and slid toward the ditch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Retired couple caught in a blizzard. They rescue a woman with little girl, a bounty hunter/soldier type guy, and an innocuous little salesman. One of them is an assassin after the woman and child. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what the woman was running from or who wanted her dead. Besides me.)</span></i><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<b>Mystery in Blue</b><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">In
a small exhibition room at the Tate in London, a tall, distinguished man stood in front of a painting.
Hands clutched tightly behind his back as if he struggled to contain himself, he
appeared completely absorbed in the image of the woman who held him
captive. Half-reclining on a velvet chaise
with her lower body swathed in diaphanous blue silk, the woman presented her exquisitely naked
back while sapphire eyes looked over a flawless shoulder; her full lips curled in lush temptation as a tendril of auburn hair caressed her cheek. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Maxwell
Coleridge had been in love with this woman for over thirty years. He had tried—in every way possible—to find
her. Most believed she was just a
figment of the dead artist’s imagination, not a real woman at all, but Max knew
different. He could see the life in her
eyes, across her mouth, down the breathless curve of her spine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Guy has been chasing her around the world--wherever the portrait is exhibited--hoping to find her or someone who knew her. A woman heavily veiled in widow's weeds strikes up a conversation with him. They discuss the woman, the tragic death of the artist, the portrait. I know the ending. I just can't figure out how to get there.)</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i>
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><b>Ripples</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“What
is this?” Growling, irritated, the duke’s
voice was as dark and unforgiving as the midnight shadows in the garden. The gleaming toe of his boot nudged the lump at his feet. “Why have I
been called from the festivities?” He
could hear the musicians preparing for the last dance; he’d chosen his partner
and had anticipated a long and pleasurable evening after the ball. Now, however, she would be claimed by someone
else while he stood in the garden prodding dirty rags. He turned to glare at his lieutenant. “Surely you can handle a pile of debris, Crayl?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Sire,
you know I would not have interrupted unless urgency required it.” The guard
swallowed, loud enough to hear over the strains of the waltz. “She…she just fell from the sky!” Crayl raised his head and whispered, “And she’s
clothed in both the blue and the gold.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Two
things dropped Duke Harcourt to one knee for a closer look. <i>She?</i> This tangle of cloth encased a female? <i>Garbed
in blue and gold?</i> No one but the highest ranks of the elite were allowed to
wear both colors and even that was rare. As he fumbled in the tattered, voluminous
cloak, searching for the body within, he didn’t spare a thought for the absurd notion
the female had fallen from the heavens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(This almost-plot came to me the other day whilst walking the dogs. Then I fried my worthless brain with a hundred different scenarios on how to proceed after these three measly paragraphs. Apparently I'm only good for sparks...I can't make fire. Buggers.)</i></span><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-48965581831433265662014-03-17T12:18:00.002-07:002014-03-17T12:18:20.949-07:00Sunday Morning<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">She
walked into the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee, then turned to scowl
at him. Lowering the newspaper, he regarded
her over the top of his glasses, admiring how perfectly his shirt draped on her
body, how transparent it became in the early morning sunlight streaming through
the windows as she approached the table.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“You
weren’t there when I woke up,” she accused.
“It’s Sunday.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“The
newspaper guy woke me up.” He shook his
head. “I’m going to have to cancel the
paper or be forced to buy a muffler for his crap car.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“But
why didn’t you come back to bed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“It
was too early, believe me, and I didn’t want to wake you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“We
were going to read the paper, have coffee and breakfast in bed. Stay there all morning if we wanted. Because it’s Sunday.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He stood
and carefully took the mug out of her hand before lifting her in his arms. He began to nuzzle her neck as he walked out
of the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">She
sighed contentedly. “How long has it
been since we stayed in bed on a Sunday?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Last
week,” he grinned.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“An
eternity then,” she murmured against his lips.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-62519361127771962562014-02-03T15:19:00.001-08:002014-02-03T23:04:43.418-08:00As Luck Would Have It<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Sliding
down the cold metal front of the old-fashioned refrigerator, Carmen settled on
the floor.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Resting elbows on her bent
knees, she covered her face with her hands.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">
</span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">What else can go</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">--</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">No. Don’t even think it.</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">She’d already said it twice today and both
times something worse had happened.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Carmen
tangled fingers in her curly blond hair and stared abjectly around the
kitchen—more specifically, what <i>used</i>
to be the kitchen. Not only had the
contractor torn the kitchen apart, but this morning while she was out getting
ideas for cabinets and counter tops, he’d helped himself to her new gourmet six-burner range, the microwave, espresso
machine and the oak table she had found at a garage sale several weeks ago and lovingly
restored.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">What
a wretched streak of bad luck she was having.
Pausing at the thought, she wondered about that word, <i>streak</i>.
To her mind, it implied quick, fast, here and gone, though if that were
the case, why was hers going on six months with no end in sight?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">She
blamed her ex-fiancé. It had started
with him. Carmen cringed at the memory,
the embarrassing cliché of coming home early from a business trip to find Dave
and Tiffany, his twenty-something secretary, banging away on the leather
sectional in the living room. Then to
add insult to injury, she was stunned to hear, a month after moving out, that not
only had the happy couple gotten married, but sweet little Tiff was
pregnant. She’d lost count of the times
Dave had said marriage was superfluous in this day and age, and having a
kid? Never.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Carmen
stewed for days after the news, but one night, caught completely off guard by the phone call, everything had changed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Her
beloved grandmother, her only family, had died unexpectedly. Devastated, she flew to Seattle, arranged the
funeral, and spent long hours wandering in the old, familiar house, stunned by
her loss, overwhelmed by memories in every room, around every corner. She’d come to live with her grandmother when
she was eight, orphaned and grieving. Only this time there was no comforting warmth to help her mourn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The
old Victorian house belonged to her now.
Taking the advice of her grandmother’s attorney to “doll the ol’ girl
up” before making any immediate decisions about selling the place, Carmen quit
her job in Los Angeles and moved back to Seattle to settle her grandmother’s
estate and upgrade the house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Over
the next several months, she’d scraped and sanded, painted and polished, sorted
and discarded, working her way from the attic to the main floor where the
serious remodel work needed to be done, beginning with the kitchen. For a short time, she forgot about her bad luck
streak as the house started to shine with her efforts. But no.
Back with a vengeance when the first contractor took the deposit he
insisted was necessary to purchase supplies, then disappeared with half her
inheritance money. Now today, the second
contractor had stolen her new appliances and the table she had so painstakingly
restored to glowing life.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">But
worse, once she got past the shock, talked to the police for the second
time—and how stupid did she feel getting ripped off twice?—she finally noticed
her grandmother’s cat Bubba hadn’t met her at the front door, winding around
her legs, purring his welcome. Racing
from the top of the house to the slightly creepy basement, Carmen frantically
called for him, but it wasn’t she opened the back door and walked across the
grass toward the alley that she realized the gate had been left wide open. The
contractor had used the alley to load his stolen goods, and Bubba was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">After
two hours, twelve blocks, and fifty hastily printed flyers tacked to every
telephone pole in the neighborhood, Carmen had dragged herself home just as ominous
rain clouds began to darken the skies.
Desperate for a cup of tea, a hot bath, and some food, Carmen had walked
into the kitchen. And stopped abruptly as
grim reality washed over her once more. No
stove, no microwave, no table.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Defeat
drained the will to keep standing right out of her legs. Quietly sliding to the floor, she was
gratified the old fridge—too unworthy to steal—was still there to ease her way
down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Later,
not sure how long she’d been sitting on the bare, cold floor while her mind
drifted over the events of the past months, she was abruptly brought back to
the present by a persistent rapping at the front door. Startled, she realized full night had fallen
and heavy rain was beating against the windows as the wind howled around the
eaves. Shivering, Carmen got stiffly to
her feet and slowly walked down the dark hallway toward the thick oak door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Through
the beveled glass panes in the upper section, she could just make out the
shadowed outline of a large figure standing on the porch. She flinched when a sudden barrage of knocks,
loud and impatient, echoed around the foyer joining the noise her heart was
making as it pounded in her ears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Had the
police come back?</span></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> Before Carmen could decide what to do, a bolt
of lightning flooded through the windows with a cold, brilliant light, followed
immediately by a deafening crack of thunder that made the house tremble. The knocking stopped and a face pressed
closer to the glass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Hello? I saw you standing there when the lightning
flashed, so could you answer the door please?”
The man’s voice was low and deep, a bit gravelly. And edgy with irritation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Carmen
walked closer to the door, but had no intention of opening it to a cranky
stranger on a stormy night. Not the way
her luck had been running. “What do you
want?” She was annoyed at the wobble in
her voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“I
have something of yours, something I’m sure you want—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Go
away! I’m calling the police!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">She
heard a series of low-pitched curses, then a large hand slapped against the door,
plastering one of her flyers to the wet glass.
“Is this you, or not? I’ve got
things to do tonight and hanging out on a crazy woman’s porch in a thunderstorm
isn’t one of them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Making
sure the chain was in place, Carmen switched on the porch light and carefully cracked
open the door. In the soft glow she
meant the eyes of the most handsome guy she’d ever seen. Tall, wearing a long black coat, raindrops
sparkling across the broad width of his shoulders, she barely registered his
firm jaw, cleft chin and tousled black hair on her way to his deep, brown eyes.
He was pale, though so was everyone in
Seattle at this time of year. Except on
him, the contrast of light and dark just made him even more attractive. Speechless, she could only stare. <i>Was he conjured from the storm? A god of
thunder and lightning?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Lowering
his hand from the glass pane, he waved the now-disintegrating piece of paper and
asked brusquely, “You lost your cat, yes?”
Shaking her head to clear it, he misunderstood the movement and
scowled. “You haven’t lost a cat?” He stepped back to read the house numbers to
the left of the door, then looked at the sodden flyer where the address was
still visible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“S-sorry,”
Carmen stuttered. “Sorry. Yes, I lost my cat.” She cleared her throat, then closed the door
to release the chain and quickly reopened it.
“I’ve had a very bad…” Her soft
murmur faded and she took a quick step back when he reached inside his coat.
Frowning at her, he slowly pulled out a wet, bedraggled Bubba wrapped in a soft
towel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“You’ve
had a very bad…?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Day? Week?
Year? </span></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> Carmen wasn’t sure how to answer. She reached for the cat, glad that at least
one thing had worked out today. “It’s
just been one of those days where nothing has gone right.” A frisson of awareness went through her when
their fingers connected as she took the cat from him. She knew he’d felt it too when he smiled down
at her, his eyes like soft glowing embers as they silently regarded each other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Bubba
wiggled in her grasp, wanting to be let down and no doubt hungry from his
ordeal. Carmen set him on the floor and
watched him walk regally down the hall. Suddenly shy and unsure about what to
say or do next, she tossed the towel onto a side table and turned back</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> to the door.
“Where did you find him?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Smile
still in place, he cocked his head. “I live
a few blocks over,” waving his hand vaguely down the street, “and noticed the
flyer on the telephone pole as I was backing out my drive.” He chuckled.
“Just as I was pulling away, my headlights caught the cat crouching on
my front porch.” He shrugged, the
gesture eloquent, easy, as if no more needed to be said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Carmen
smiled. “Thank you for bringing him
home. I’ve been so worried and upset.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He
still gripped the remains of the flyer.
Holding it up, he said, “Was your name on this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“No.” When he raised a brow, waiting, she laughed
and felt her cheeks redden. “Carmen. My name is Carmen Winters.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Will,”
he said, taking her hand. “Will Blaine. It’s lovely to meet you, Carmen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The
spark flared between them again as he gently ran his thumb over her knuckles. “Do you think I might come in, Carmen
Winters? It’s a bit wet out here.” As if his words had made it happen, lightning
flashed and thunder rolled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Carmen
jumped, her hand slipping out of his grasp.
Flustered, trying to be cautious when all she really wanted was to drag
him inside and lock the door…for a week or so…she said flippantly, “I don’t
know. You could be an axe murderer, or
an escaped criminal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Will
laughed and held his coat open, wide enough for her to see his broad chest, his
trim waist and long legs. He was wearing
a yellow tee shirt and black jeans. “No
axe,” he said, spinning in a circle, his coat flaring out around him. It took her a moment to register what was printed
on his tee shirt. “Do you work at
Renegades?” she asked, admiring the artwork of the most notorious faces of villains
and outlaws throughout history. The faces were drawn in such a way that they
formed one face, supposedly the owner of the hottest club in Seattle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“You
could say that.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">As
he dropped his hands, Carmen suddenly realized something. “Wait!”
She reached out and opened his coat, staring at the tee shirt. Then she laughed and looked up at him. “It’s you!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Guilty
as charged.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Stepping
back into the foyer, still smiling, Carmen had a wonderful, exhilarating moment
wondering if her luck was finally changing, if this long streak of bad was
finally over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Do
you think I might come in, Carmen Winters?” Will softly asked again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Hesitating
for only a moment, Carmen stepped aside and opened the door.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Her
invitation drew him over the threshold.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: 0.25in;">Carmen
turned to shut the door, missing the gleam of sharp, white fangs as his smile
widened behind her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-14855221839299104002014-01-12T11:21:00.000-08:002014-01-12T16:44:20.667-08:00Waiting<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Elaine walked quietly up the gravel path toward the slightly dilapidated wooden bench under the old Sycamore tree. Settling down to wait, she watched the ducks float lazily in the lake, just far enough below her that they looked like childish toys drifting in the gentle breeze that stirred the water.<br /><br /> Every year on this date she came. To sit on this bench, to wait, to see him again. No matter how painful, she needed this one moment to make the rest of the long days bearable.<br /><br /> After the accident had torn them apart, she couldn’t stop herself from returning here, to their favorite place. Lonely, lost, she'd come one day--on the anniversary of their wedding--climbed the hill, taken a seat on the bench and cried until she was weak from it. A short while later, hardly daring to believe, she saw him appear from the dense shadows covering the path below and walk toward the lake. As the bright splinters of sunlight glinted across the water, she was sure the sight of him was nothing more than a mirage, conjured from longing.<br /><br /> But no. He had really been there. She watched him open a plastic bag, absently tossing bits of bread to the ducks. Her tears fell when he stopped and abruptly doubled over, hands gripping his stomach as if he’d been stabbed. After throwing the empty bread bag in the waste bin, he wiped his shirt sleeve across his eyes before turning to wander aimlessly down another path, his steps halting and uncertain. Oh, how she’d wanted to go to him, chase him down, throw herself into his arms. <em> Joe</em>.<br /><br /> He came every year, just as she did, but he never looked up the hill because their world had revolved around the lake. It was where they’d met, where they'd talked and laughed, fed the ducks and had picnics, fell in love, and married in the gazebo built over the southern rim of the water.<br /><br /> So today, once again, Elaine sat patiently, quietly waiting for him. Smiling to herself, precious memories drifted through her mind, each one hoarded like a bright, golden coin. But as the hours passed and the sun dropped lower in the sky, she began to realize that maybe this time he wouldn't come. Had she missed him somehow, lost in her daydreams? Mistaken the date? No. Something had happened. <em>Why hadn’t he come</em>? Trembling, she surged to her feet, a terrible sense of dread making her frantic with worry.<br /><br /> “Oh God. It <em>is</em> you.” Though she hadn’t heard his voice in a very long time, the deep, warm resonance slid across her skin with an intimate awareness that made her knees shake. Desperately flinging out a hand, she steadied herself against the tree trunk, then slowly turned her head.<br /><br /> “Joe,” she whispered hoarsely. In the fading light, Elaine could see the shock on his face, the burning questions in his eyes. His fists were clenched at his sides as he stared at her.<br /><br /> “I saw—” He shook his head, then cleared his throat. “I saw someone sitting up here. She looked like you.” He swallowed audibly. “I had to see…” His voice trailed off as his eyes roamed over her body, her face. “How can you be here?”<br /><br /> Mind whirling, unable to keep standing, she fell hard onto the bench. Joe stepped closer, shock slowly transforming into a hot anger that she could feel building inside him.<br /><br /> “I come every year,” she said quietly.<br /><br /> “You’ve been here every year and never once let me know? Never <em>once</em> let me see you?”<br /><br /> “I’m so sorry. I wanted to, but after the accident—”<br /><br /> He fell to one knee in front of her and tentatively took her hands as if she might not be real after all. Eyes locked on her face, he softly asked, “Why did you leave me, El?” Lowering his head, he rested his forehead on her thigh. “Why?” The muffled word was raw.<br /><br /> Pulling a hand free, she smoothed it over his hair. “I’ve missed you so much,” she murmured. “To see you, even from a distance, kept me from despair.”<br /><br /> His head shot up. He growled, angry again. “I didn’t have that luxury. You took everything when you left me!” Eyes shadowed, he said bitterly, “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”<br /><br /> Elaine took his face in her hands and leaned toward him. Her kiss was soft and tender. “I…I just…couldn’t.” Breathing the words against his lips, she whispered, “I love you,” before she kissed him again.<br /><br /> Joe resisted for several heartbeats, then with a groan, moved to the bench and pulled her into his lap. The feel of her arms around him, the bittersweet touch of her mouth, the weight of her body, was almost unbearable. He had dreamed of this, on so many long, dark nights after she’d gone. Lifting his head, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in a gesture so familiar and easy it made his breath catch for a moment. “You’re still so beautiful.” He frowned slightly. “Why are you here? Why have you come back to me now?”<br /><br /> Elaine kissed her husband once more, then slid off his lap and stood in the quiet under the old Sycamore tree as early evening settled over the landscape. She smiled and held out her hand. Joe took it and got to his feet.<br /><br /> “Let’s take a walk around the lake,” she said. “I have so much to tell you.”<br /><br /> As they made their way down the slope, Joe said firmly, “I won’t let you go again, Elaine. I mean it.”<br /><br /> Smiling at the scowl on his handsome face, reveling in the solid clasp of his hand, Elaine said softly, “No, we won’t let go this time.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span>
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /> The caretaker was on his way to lock the iron gates for the night when the headlights on his little cart illuminated the shape of two people in a passionate embrace. He veered in their direction to tell them it was time to leave, but before he could get closer, they began fading in a soft misty shimmer of light.<br /><br /> Unfazed, the old man carefully turned the cart around. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen couples reunited here, and it wouldn't be the last. Love was a powerful bond after all. Smiling, his eyes roamed fondly over the neat rows of headstones as he drove slowly toward the cemetery gates.</span><br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2334853415273512210.post-44647615442524230432013-12-22T16:14:00.001-08:002013-12-22T16:35:52.081-08:00Epilogue...8 Weeks Later<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Lily wrapped a warm woolen scarf
around her neck, then grabbed one of the many jackets hanging in the small
mudroom beside the kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shrugging
into it, she slipped out the back door and stood for a moment in the clean,
cold air of the French countryside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
she walked the meandering paths of her mother’s flower and herb gardens, she
smiled at the raucous sounds of the party that followed her up the gentle slope
to a wooden bench under an ancient Sweet Chestnut tree.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Leaning into a slight hollow in the
gnarly, rough bark Lily looked out over the landscape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The glow from a perfect half-moon made the
night seem like a scene from a fairy tale.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Hearing a soft footfall, she turned,
then smiled at Katy, her elven beauty enhanced by the moonlight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tucking her hands in the crook of Lily’s
elbow, Katy rested her head against the other woman’s shoulder and sighed happily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ve missed this place.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> “Me, too.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She lightly poked Katy with her elbow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ve missed <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How’s it going with
dissolving the Cantrell empire?”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> “Without your grandfather’s help, Dom
would have just walked away from the whole thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If Taurin hadn’t returned his medallion I don’t
know how we could’ve proved that Dom’s father wasn’t around anymore.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She laughed softly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Bit hard to tell his corporate executives their
CEO was a demon from Hell.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> In a simple, well-planned maneuver, the figure of Jamieson
Cantrell was seen boarding his private jet shortly after Halloween, leaving Seattle
in the early morning hours for a quick flight back to San Francisco.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tragically, over the Pacific, the plane had
exploded with no survivors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dom and
Mickey had planned it perfectly, using the medallion to escape after lighting
the fuse.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> “There are dozens of lawyers
handling sales and deals and all that financial stuff.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She giggled. “Though most of the time Dom
just wants to stay in bed.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Quietly Lily said, “I was wrong
about him, Katy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s so obvious he
adores you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sorry I misjudged him.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> “Don’t be sorry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the beginning it was all about
revenge.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She lifted her head and smiled
at Lily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“But it didn’t take long for me
to turn him from the dark side.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> They were laughing when the soft
murmur of voices made them look over their shoulders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The click of a shutter told them that Jean
Michel, Lily’s father, had arrived with his camera.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Ah, my princesses, how beautiful you are in
the moonlight.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He came around the tree
and snapped several more shots, then cheerfully scolded Katy, “You were
supposed to bring my girl back to the house, not stay out here with her.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Solemnly, Katy stood and faced
Lily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Dearest Lily, your <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">c</i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">her père wants </span></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">to take group photos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You must come back to the house immediately.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then her eyes went past Lily and she said
softy, “My ride's here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll meet you at
the house—”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> “Later,” growled a deep voice as Dom
prowled up the slope. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without taking his
eyes off Katy, he smoothly lifted her into his arms and walked away, Katy’s
muffled laughter wafting on the air as they melted into the darkness.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Shaking his head, Jean Michel sat
down next to his daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Her man
might be rough around the edges, but no one could ever care for her more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s good to see her so happy.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wrapped an arm around Lily’s shoulders and
pulled her close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And you, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">mon ange</i>, are you happy?”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> “Very happy.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> “Daniel is the one, yes?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Lily grinned and nestled against her
father’s side, his large, comfortable presence warming her heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yes, Papa, he’s the one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope you approve.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Jean Michel was quiet as he pondered
her words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His world revolved around his
family, the sunflowers and his photographs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As he sat in the cool night air, his mind raced with images of the woman
beside him, from the first moments of her life, squalling and red-faced, to her
scraped knees and gangly limbs, through her heartbreaks and triumphs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was strong and independent and he loved
her unconditionally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would take a
very special man to be worthy of her.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Used to her father’s long, pensive
silences, Lily let her thoughts wander in the quiet of the French countryside,
the silvery glow from the moon adding a gentleness to the dips and rises of the
familiar terrain.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> After Taurin had brought them back,
Lily had insisted that Dom and Katy stay in the spare bedroom, at least for a
few days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the second morning, Mickey
had appeared in the kitchen and just in time for breakfast, he cheerfully
explained between mouthfuls that his medallion had been returned to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later, when Dom said he couldn’t figure out
how to declare his father dead so he could unload his businesses, it was Mickey
who came up with the plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before
leaving, Mickey had ordered the four of them to France for Christmas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No excuses, no begging off, no exemptions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be there, or face the wrath of the family.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Daniel spent a few days in San
Francisco, packing things to ship, putting the house in the hands of a realtor,
then had settled in at the bookstore, and into Lily’s life with no effort at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was knowledgeable about the books,
charming and friendly with the customers, and with Katy traipsing around the
globe with Dom, it had been incredibly helpful to have him around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For that and other reasons, Lily mused
happily.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Her apartment was messy and
comfortable and warmer now, not her place anymore, but theirs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had even taken some photos of him on the
sly, adding them to the wall in the kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Daniel had a habit of wandering over to the wall before dinner,
lingering over the faces of her family as he quietly sipped his wine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That night she held her breath as he perused
the usual suspects, then choked on the wine when he saw himself mingled with
her family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was one of her best
moments: the look on his face, the realization that he had more than just his
brother, that she had done such a wonderful thing for him.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> “Do you truly love him?”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Startled out of her reverie, she
smiled up at her father, then stretched to kiss his cheek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Truly.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> With a sigh, her father slapped his
hands on his knees, then stood up, his camera swinging from his neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Your grandfather said you and Katy went to
Hell and back for those two men.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lily
widened her eyes at that revelation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jean Michel shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Mickey and
I have never kept secrets from each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That was one of his rules when I married his daughter and a promise I
will have from your man as well.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> “You have it, sir.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daniel’s voice was quiet and sure as he
stepped around the tree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lily got to her
feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daniel smiled at her, then held
out his hand to her father.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ll
promise anything you want, sir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well,
except for go away and never come back.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jean Michel studied him for a moment, then he grinned and took Daniel’s
hand in a firm grip, pounding him on the back for good measure.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> “You love her?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her father asked, not relinquishing
Daniel’s hand.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Daniel ignored the painful handshake
and looked at Lily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Beyond reason and with
all my heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s you Lily, it’s always
been you.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> “Then welcome to the family.” Jean
Michel smiled broadly. “See you at the house in a few minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to get some photos before Christmas
Eve is over.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He started down the slope,
sure they hadn’t heard a word he’d just said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When he reached the path, he turned back for a moment.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Silhouetted against the night sky,
their arms wrapped tightly around each other, the kiss was magical in the
moonlight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Smiling, Jean Michel raised
his camera and took the shot.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b>** THE END ** </b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4