Chapter 20 #2
I jumped, still in flight mode.
The boat bounced as he clambered into the captain’s seat. The engine roared as he pulled into the harbor.
I rolled off the bench at the kick in the forward momentum.
I bit down on the scream of pain. I pressed my forehead into my forearm as the adrenaline and pain coalesced into white noise in my head. I knew he needed to get out of the harbor.
To get us away.
I took a minute to gather myself and crawled to the table and pulled myself up onto the smaller bench seat, sweat popping up on my forehead and down my back.
Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes and rolled down my cheeks as I breathed through the pain.
Twice I’d been thrown around and the tearing inside my muscles felt like I’d been put into a shredder. The engine growled beneath my feet as he pushed the big boat for more speed, to put Boston in our rearview.
I looked down at the mask in my hand.
The overdrawn smile in the graphic black and white reminded me of a bastardized Alice in Wonderland Cheshire cat grin. I flung it away and dragged in a deep lungful of sea air.
The sun was low in the sky, burning the sky in slashing strokes of red and magenta.
Finally the engine went quiet and the sound of Locke’s voice dented the panic.
“He came out of nowhere.”
“I don’t fucking care what you want. We’re getting lost. No—I’m not telling anyone where we’re going.” He clattered down from the overhead deck and his boots clomped down the stairs before he swung down to where I was. His gaze was thunderous. “Gotta go. Just fucking find him.”
He threw the SAT phone onto the half off couch cushion and rushed over to me. “What happened?”
I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Are you hurt?” He growled. “Of course you are.” He scooped me up and headed into the cabin. He set me near the windows at the back of the living space. He cupped my face, turning it from left to right to make sure I was fine. His gaze dropped to my mouth for a second before his lips thinned.
My heart pounded in my ears as I wrapped my fingers around his wrist. “He didn’t hurt me.”
He looked down at my ravaged arm. “The fuck he didn’t.” He stalked away from me and down to the bedroom quarters, then came back with a first aid kit.
“How did he find us?”
He sat beside me, flipping open the little red box. He ripped open an alcohol pad. His hand was rock steady as he slowly blotted at the blood that had welled up.
I hissed out a breath.
He glanced up at me, his eyes filled with rage.
“I’m okay,” I said quietly. “I can’t believe he was so bold.”
“I can. He’s obsessed with you now.”
I shivered. “Not the kind of obsession I’m looking for, thanks.”
He crunched the wrappers into his hand. “You’re training on how to evade capture. Tomorrow.”
“I actually took a few classes. One of my instructors told me to drop like a stone. It can surprise the attacker, and it did. It’s how I got away. He tried to drag me along which is why—” I broke off with a hiss.
The raised marks near the scrapes would be a bruise, I was sure of it.
“Sorry.” He picked up a tube of triple antiseptic and dabbed it over the scrapes. He got up and paced away from me, setting the case on the kitchen counter before he raked his fingers through his freshly shorn hair and laced his fingers at the back of his neck.
“You found me, Locke.”
He turned back. “I almost didn’t.”
“But you did. Again.” I huffed out a laugh. “My Safety Locke.”
He shut his eyes and tipped his head back. “I should have seen him.”
“You’re not a mind reader.”
“I knew we should have just left. Going to the tower did fuck all to help us anyway.”
“It helped. And so did this.”
He swung his gaze my way. “How’s that?”
“We know he’s desperate. Desperate people make mistakes.”
“Or they get more dangerous.”
I struggled to my feet. “Call Stone.”
He rushed forward. “What are you doing?”
“I got something. I don’t know that it’ll help, but I pulled something off him.”
“Sit down, dammit.”
I sighed and sunk back onto the couch. “It’s on the table out on the deck.”
He hurried out and came back with the mask in hand. “This?”
“He was wearing that in the hospital too. I was high as hell, and it looked way more sinister. His eyes are a really light gray too.”
“You saw that?”
“More like remembered it. I think he might have been wearing contacts the night he attacked me. I can’t be sure, but the light kept hitting his eyes like two voids. I still dream about them.”
He crouched in front of me. “Anything else?”
I closed my eyes against the intensity in his gaze. The attack was such a blur. “I just remember running and then he cracked my head into something. The ground? I’m not sure. I just know I was out for a while.”
He covered my hand, and I held onto him.
“The same fingers that scratched my arm. They were so strong. The ropes...” I shuddered. “He was so mad that I was unconscious.” I opened my eyes and met his gaze. “He wanted me awake. Wanted me to hurt.” Tears clogged my throat. “Those eyes were so excited. Black eyes.”
“It’s okay.” He leaned in and rested his forehead against mine. “You’re safe.”
I lifted my hand to his face. “Safety Locke.”
His eyes were fierce and full of secrets. I wanted to know all of them. I shouldn’t have leaned in. I was still riding the high of the adrenaline and memories that tumbled out. But I needed something other than the all-encompassing fear.
I needed to taste all that fierce, locked-down man.
He sucked in a breath at the first touch of our lips. He froze and there was no reaction.
Mistake.
Abort.
He didn’t want this.
I leaned back. “Sorry. I—”
His fingers speared into my hair, and he dragged me back in and took my mouth like a fever. Like crossing every line was going to send us both to hell.
I dragged in a breath through my nose and the moan that fluttered between us seemed to feed him. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t caring.
He overwhelmed me, and each swipe of his tongue was more like him dragging my taste into his mouth. Like he couldn’t get enough.
He stood, drawing me up with him as his arm snaked around my back to hold me tight. My arms twined around his shoulders, my fingers teasing along the short shorn hairs up to the choppy layers then back down as the kiss became an assault on all my senses.
His thumb drifted over my chin down to my throat and I instinctively opened for a deeper taste.
His fingers lightly wreathed my throat before sliding around the back to my neck, holding me possessively.
Holding me still as the kiss cooled to light swipes of his tongue.
I swayed in his arms, wanting more.
But he was already pulling back.
Not that hand though.
That possessive hand stayed, and the warm rush started there and flowed out along every inch of me.
“If you tell me that shouldn’t have happened, I’m going to scream.”
The corner of his lips tugged up. “I won’t apologize for that.”
“Good.”
“I need to call Stone.”
I nodded. “Right.”
He dipped his head, but instead of going for my lips, he pressed a kiss along my collar bone then straightened. “I’ll be right back.”
I sat down with a bone-shaking thump.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been kissed that thoroughly.
Not even at the start of my relationship with Marcus.
I wasn’t sure my ex even knew how to kiss like that. As if his life depended on it.
Was that because of the attack?
Just heightened hormones and adrenaline?
I touched my buzzing lips.
Or just Locke?