Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Erin
The sun is rising, doing its best to light the perpetually gray sky that stretches over these haunted moors, signaling it’s time to rise, but I haven’t moved.
Lucian is behind me, a human blanket of body heat, muscle, and protection.
His arm is heavy across my waist, as if even in his steady sleep, he’ll never let go.
His breathing is deep, his warm exhale against the curve of my neck, like a wordless promise to never leave.
If I close my eyes, I can almost pretend we’re back in his bed at his place, and I never left that morning. That he didn’t chain me to the edge of orgasm last night, torture me, then command my release.
And afterward, kiss me like I was the only thing tethering him to this world.
I can’t believe he’s here, that he paused his whole life to find me. I’m filled with equal parts relief, worry, and guilt.
But I can’t pretend the guilt and worry aren't growing, swallowing every other emotion as they expand.
I met Lucian under false pretenses and kept seeing him after realizing he wasn’t the monster I thought I could use and discard.
I didn’t let go.
The heart desires what it desires. And I wanted him. Selfishly, I couldn’t tear myself away. I couldn't be honest with him and move on sooner.
Now, he’s the one who can’t pull away or let me go. And now I’ve dragged him into this war with me.
And I don’t know if we’ll make it out.
I slip out of the bed slowly, carefully. His arm tightens instinctively. His two-word command comes out as a growl. “No. Stay.”
I press a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “Just getting a cuppa, love,” and he relaxes.
I smile to myself as I crawl out of bed. I’ve never used that term of endearment from home before, not on any man.
Being here, with him, brought it to my tongue.
I loved saying it. “Love,” I whisper to myself, padding across the floor through the warm living room—the fire still burns—of course, he got up in the middle of the night to rebuild it.
So, I’d feel as warm as I am now, wearing nothing but his rumpled flannel shirt, buttoned like a nightgown. The soft cotton hem brushes my bare skin at my mid-thigh, reminding me how much taller and bigger he is than I am.
As I wait for the kettle to boil, I wrap my arms around myself in a hug, knowing I’m safer with him here.
Just getting a cuppa, love.
I’m slipping into my past, my old words, my old self.
The closer I get to Caleb, the more I remember.
The more I realize why it was so easy for me to march into a stranger’s home, fully ready to take his money, forsake him, and put his life in danger.
I pictured the stranger who bought my virginity as Caleb.
It made it so easy.
So simple.
But he wasn’t Caleb, was he? Quite the opposite, actually. I indeed avoided him after he gave me the fob because I was frozen with fear, living on borrowed time from the Morettis.
I’m what we call here in our village a ‘never-do-nancy.’ Someone who says they’re going to do something to better their lives but never does.
Saying things like:
I’m going to break up with that horrible man.
I’m going to apply to college.
I’m going to come clean.
I should have told him everything and begged for his help. I had so many opportunities. I kept telling myself I would, a perfect never-do-nancy.
Instead, I hopped on a plane with a half-cocked plan and a prayer.
I pad to the table with my tea, still barefoot, the stone floor cold beneath my feet. The notebook is where I left it last night—on the counter, beside my burner phone and the list of old contacts.
I flip it open and stare at the map I’ve marked in red ink, a fresh X marking the spot where gorgeous, vulnerable Gretchen was last seen.
I hope he doesn’t laugh when I show him what I’m working with.
I pull Lucian’s coat off the chair and wrap it around my shoulders. His scent is still on it: warmth, cedar, and perseverance. I feel safer with it on.
From the comfort of his coat, I wrap my hands around my steaming mug, inhaling the scent of black tea and sugar while staring at my notebook, a stubborn part of me still wondering if I can do this alone.
Keep him safe here at the cabin.
Could a sheep tranquilizer keep him subdued?
I’d probably need one strong enough for elephants.
I smile into my cup of tea.
I turn as Lucian walks into the room, shirtless, jeans half-zipped, hair a mess from sleep and sex.
His eyes land on the notebook.
Then on me.
“Your plan?”
I nod.
He crosses the kitchen in three slow, silent steps, and I feel the air shift around him, thick with warning.
“You’re not going after him alone.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“You’re thinking it.” He pins me with that steel gaze.
I say nothing.
Definitely would need more than tranquilizers to keep him here.
“Did you get in touch with Cass?” I ask.
He sinks into the seat beside me with a heavy breath. “The men did. Cass said you’d better make it back so she can, and I quote, ‘find some way to kick your bony ass. I’m so mad I don’t even need legs to do it.’”
“She’s going to run me over with her wheelchair, isn’t she?”
“Let’s hope she gets the chance.”
His heavy words give me a shiver, reminding me of the constant danger we’re under.
“And Ryan?” I ask.
“Ryan is too busy making friends to be too worried about Aunt Rin; he assumes she’s having sleepovers with her cool boyfriend, Lucian.”
“Which I am.”
“Erin,” he sighs, “if this is what you consider a sleepover, you have more issues than I thought.”
I shake my head. “You have no idea.”
He eyes me.
“Did I say that aloud?” I blink at him.
He grins. “I’ve got them covered. They’re safe. She said she can do it on her own, but not knowing how long we'll be gone, I hired an aide to stay with her.”
“Oh my god!” I exhale with a whoosh, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Will I ever be able to pay him back?
“Welcome.” He taps his finger three times against the tabletop. “Now, let me hear your plan.”
His gaze is too intense. I hop up from my seat, this time managing not to topple the chair in my haste.
“Tea?” I offer, knowing I don’t have the coffee he desires.
He shakes his head; his nose scrunched in distaste. “Gross.” And for a flash of a moment, I get a glimpse of what he looked like as a child.
Adorable.
But he’s no child. He’s a massive man and a force to be reckoned with. And he’s never going to let me go at this alone.
“New Yorkers drink coffee. Strong and black. Don’t you Brits remember we threw all your wimpy tea leaves in the ocean?”
“I think I have some instant here,” I say, digging through the cabinets without mentioning it’d be over a year old if we do.
“Ugh. Worse.” He slaps his palm on the table, making me jump. “Sit. Now. Tell me everything that’s happened since you got here.”
I breeze back to my seat, grabbing my cup.
“I think he’s here, watching me. The first night, I found boot prints outside the cabin.”
His jaw tightens so hard it makes my throat close.
I have to pause to swallow. “And. Um…yesterday—”
Do I have to tell him? He’s already holding on to the edge of the table like he’s going to break it between his fingers. If he didn’t like the boot prints, he’s really not going to like what I have to tell him next.
“Erin.” He says my name like a threat.
I have to tell him.
“Yesterday on the platform at the train station…” I pause, watching the angry red heat creep up his neck, then quickly add, “The platform opposite me,” as if that helps.
It doesn’t. The crimson shade is now taking over his entire face.
He demands from between clenched teeth, “What. Did. You. See?”
“I thought I saw someone who may have looked like him—”
And then Lucian explodes. I mean, really loses it. He stands from his chair, pacing the room like a caged wildebeest.
“You’re telling me that you not only came here alone, knowing you had no protection whatsoever,”—he picks up the knife that’s on the counter by its wooden handle, “except this dull kitchen knife,”—then drops it, letting it fall with a clatter.
“Then you wandered the streets. Alone. With him out there?”
“Maybe out there,” I remind him. “I can’t confirm the prints were his. And I thought I saw him at the station. Or someone that looked like him.”
“Okay, babygirl. Let’s pretend that Caleb, your vicious mafia-bred asshole, is the one watching you. Then, he’s going to make a move. Soon.”
“Yes.” My throat tightens again as I swallow.
I don’t tell him about the text. Baby sister. He’s a little too close to a coronary.
That one will keep.
Lucian’s voice drops an octave. “Then we take him out before he does.”
“That was my plan,” I say. “Kind of.”
The look he gives me causes a hot flash.
“Okay, other than getting him arrested, I’m not sure I had one.”
“Your plan,” he says, “was to come out here and be the bait so he’d leave the rest of us alone. Wasn’t it?”
I think about the accusation for a moment. “Possibly. But not consciously. I swear.”
“Sit down and show me what you have. And do not get up from that chair again until I say.” His warm, rough palm slips up to my mid-thigh, giving a delicious warning squeeze. “Or else you’ll be sitting on that chair with a sore ass.”
“Fine.” I squirm away, feeling too much heat between my legs. I take a deep, shaky breath and push the notebook toward him.
He raises an eyebrow and is instantly engrossed in the pages.
I like that he never touched the book, never grabbed it or forced me to give it, instead waiting for my permission before opening it. He’s always in control, but respects boundaries.
“I’ve been gathering information since I first discovered his father is one of the leaders who runs the Hoax.”
“The Hoax. I know of them. A Glasgow crime family.” He strokes a page, underlining dates with his fingertip. How is just watching his hands move a turn-on? He casts me a glance. “Behave.”
How does he read my mind like that? It’s so frustrating. And also, sexy.
He goes back to the book. “Continue. Please.”
I lean in, flipping through the pages of my maps, each red X marked with a date.
“Here. Each one is a girl, someone who disappeared into thin air. Each girl has a friend who tells the same story: the missing girl was beautiful, vulnerable, and acted differently in the weeks before her disappearance. The last girl worked at a bar.” I give her a name, as she deserves. “Gretchen.”
He says her name reverently. “Gretchen.”
Good man. Too good to be here with me.
“Her friend said she was acting shifty before she disappeared. Scared.” I put a hand on his forearm to get his attention.
“And a couple of them said the girl was seeing someone. Just before they left.” I shake my head, feeling lost. “I can’t directly connect any of them to Caleb.
But I know it’s the Hoax, and I know he’s involved. ”
He closes the notebook and pats the cover. “Great work. But how does this help us?”
Us.
I like that.
Too much.
“I turn all my evidence over to the police. Prove that he’s involved in this people trafficking ring. Get him arrested and then—"
“Stop.” He holds up a hand with a shake of his head, wild hair shaking with him. “You’ll be dead three days into that plan.”
“Good thing you came.”
“Of course, I came.” His voice goes to steel. “I would have come sooner if I could.”
“I wish you had made me come sooner last night,” I murmur.
“You mean, let you come sooner.” He flashes me a wicked grin. “Naughty girl. Don’t distract me. Or I’ll have to bend you over this table and spank that pretty little ass of yours before I fuck you silly.”
My face heats up, and I have to press my thighs together and shift my weight in my chair. I clear my throat to speak. “Fine.”
“It’ll take months for them to investigate. Even if they book him, with his money and connections, he’d be released on bail and try to find you before he runs, to kill you,” dark eyes meet mine, “if he hasn’t already.”
“Hmm.”
“Even if he gets locked up, you’d need a very progressive jury that doesn’t just believe a pretty girl working at a bar was taken against her will, so he gets convicted—and even then, he’d appeal using his unlimited money and high-powered lawyers and be out in three years at most.”
“Again, coming to kill me.”
“Again,” he counters, “you’d already be dead.”
“Good thing you showed up,” I smile. And I get out of my seat without permission, sliding into the warm safety of his lap.
I wrap my arms around his neck, “Let me show you how grateful I am for you.”
And I kiss him, slowly moving down his neck, my fingers unbuckling his belt.