FOUR #2
I was clearly seeing things. With another quick check around Maisy’s room, I made my way back to my own, past our little stray’s room, without peeking inside.
If Amelie caught me checking on her and screamed, the household would come down on me like a ton of bricks.
Nope, I wasn’t that stupid. I needed to save my strange obsession for another day.
I told my overprotective nature to do one, as it had no right, adding a fucking stranger to its long list of responsibilities.
When I got back to my room, I shoved some discarded tech and gym gear off my bed.
My muscles were throbbing as I lifted a hand over my shoulder and tugged my tee off over my head.
Switching denim for a pair of loose-fitting grey sweats, I then threw myself onto the mattress, swinging an arm over my head.
Fuck I was knackered. I also needed a shower.
A million thoughts were swimming around my mind, and Amelie Thorn’s sweet-looking face was the last thing I saw before I finally drifted off to sleep.
In my dream, I was at the cemetery, trying to claw my way through knotted grass to get to my mother, who had been buried alive. She had been calling out for me, just like she used to do when she was living and breathing and bedridden.
Vanessa and my father were at the doors into the church, watching me, shaking their heads.
Those disappointed sighs were louder than my fucking digging.
My sister Jessa was sitting on a park bench talking to Maisy about how kissing boys made your teeth fall out.
And there was my mother’s private physician, Michael Astor, but I used to call him Doctor Dick.
As I frantically tore at the grass and mud, grit wedged beneath my fingertips, a hard hand clamped down on my shoulder.
“Kieran?”
Amelie’s melodic voice came from behind me.
Turning and seizing her wrist, I lunged to my feet, pulling her toward me.
As I towered over her, staring down into her sheet-white face, I watched, feeling helpless as two fine lines of blood started to fall from her eyes.
My grip tightened, and her sweet face flinched in pain, causing me to drop my hold.
The black welts—finger marks—on her wrist that I had put there forced me to screw my eyes up against the sight.
You are not that type of monster.
My father and Vanessa started laughing, the sound like a shriek echoing around the graveyard, and then there was an eerie silence and blackness.
As I opened my eyes, there was just the two of us: the Rebel and the Stray. Then came that haunting whisper. “You’re digging in the wrong place.” Amelie’s mouth was moving, but my mother’s voice was all I heard.
THUD!
My eyes shot open. What the actual fuck?
THUD. That second time, the noise was real and came from beneath my room.
I jolted upright in bed, the covers falling to my waist as I scanned the shadowed corners of my room, a dread pulsing through me that something was off.
Yanking the covers back, I swung my feet to the carpet and shook my head, attempting to unscramble my brain.
THUD!
There it was again. Someone was in the house.
Fuck. Adrenaline pumped through my chest as my sixth sense kicked in, and I jumped from the bed and crept to my door. My bare feet made no noise on the thick plush flooring as tension rolled through my limbs.
Another noise, a creak that time, told me I was right. The sound was coming from the kitchen. They must have come in through the back door.
Cursing myself for leaving my baseball bat in my room, I tiptoed downstairs: every step was like a landmine waiting to go off. If they heard me approach, I would lose the element of surprise. I glanced back up the stairs. Where the fuck was Lincoln when I needed backup?
Taking a deep breath, I carried on. My chest vibrated with the violence of my own pulse, and sweat dripped down my back, possibly partly from the dream about my mother and the looming conflict that awaited me.
I shelved the fact that Amelie had now appeared in that same recurring nightmare when we had only met hours earlier. That was some potent shit.
Straining to hear, it sounded like someone was opening cupboard doors, probably looking for valuables: thieving bastards.
My thoughts were still a jumble as my hand hovered by the wall for balance; the nightmare I had been dragged from was still taking its toll on my nerves, and my throat was tight.
Calm your shit, Rook.
Creeping into the kitchen on full stealth alert and—bingo.
I was right; there was a man in my kitchen.
I could see his shadow, faintly lit by the moon, streaming in through the bi-folding doors.
The fact that he hadn’t turned the lights on was all the evidence I needed that they shouldn’t have been there, and my urge to attack first and ask questions later powered through me.
Purposefully clearing my throat to alert them to my presence, they darted towards the counter, and I lunged forward, recalling the figure I thought I’d seen outside.
I had to protect my family at all costs.
The fact that no alarms had been triggered didn’t even register as my territorial side blazed through me.
Take the fucker down!
As soon as our bodies collided, I realised my mistake; it wasn’t a man I had tackled, the girl folded into me like a piece of paper.
I hit her mid-stride, the impact much more brutal than I had intended, and I flinched with regret at her sharp, pained 'oof' as we slammed into the island. That shrill noise was followed by the deafening crack of a glass exploding against the vinyl by our feet.
The momentum sent her surging back against my chest, her elbows thrusting into my abs.
As we went down, my brain finally caught up with my body when her scent hit me—sweet, cloying vanilla—a second before the soft, unmistakable curve of Amelie’s frame collided with mine.
Shit.
I twisted mid-air, my muscles snapping with the effort to protect her, and I shoved one knee out, aiming at the linoleum to take the brunt of the fall. We skidded into the shadows, my arms locked around her, pinning her to my chest as we started to drop.
I didn’t miss her gasp of surprise as we went down, her hair hitting my face as my jaw slammed into the frantic pulse in her throat.
Her legs parted with me on top of her, pinning her to the floor as her body trembled beneath mine, breath whooshing from impact.
Shit! What have you done, Rook?
Our breaths collided, ragged and uneven as I hinged my upper body back, my hands and elbows flanking her head like a cage.
Amelie’s small body felt made to measure, irrespective of the differences in our sizes.
And God, she felt good. I dug my knees in on either side.
That was the only thing I could think of to stop myself from crushing her.
It was a mistake.
The shift drove my groin flush against her core, slotting me into the warmth of her open thighs. Bare legs, I might add, and heat flooded my dick.
I looked down into her face, half shadowed. Her eyes were blown wide, fixed on mine, her chest heaving in short gasps. A shattered glass was on the ground beside us, water soaking into her scanty nightwear and my jogging bottoms.
With shaky hands which had been trapped between us, Amelie raised an arm and pushed some hair back from her face; her chest was frantic.
“Kieran? You scared me to death,” she panted, her plump bottom lip wobbling, making me want to bite it. Not the time, Rook! My muscles bunched as she slid her hands up my arms, whether that was to push me away or not, who knew.
Our eyes clashed in a silent battle, but my glare was much fiercer than her confusion. I growled down at her. “What the hell are you doing down here?”
Amelie’s hands fell from my shoulders to either side of her head: her fingers curling into her palms. “I wanted to get a glass of water,” she husked, her blue eyes huge in her sweet face.
I scowled in confusion. “In the fucking dark?”
“It wasn’t that dark,” she whimpered, shifting slightly beneath me.
“You do realise I could have hurt you?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know where the switches were,” she rasped, her core rubbing against mine as she wiggled slightly.
“Clearly, of all the stupid…and please, for the love of God, stop that,” I bit out, my cock was so hard it was painful. The urge to grind myself against her pussy raced through me.
“What’s going on in here?” My brother’s voice whisper-shouted as light flooded the kitchen.
Perfect timing as always, Linc! Talk about being caught with your pants down. Although maybe not the best joke to have in my head at that moment.
We were behind the counter, and so he wouldn’t have been able to see us from the doorway.
I called out as his head came into view, “Nothing, just Amelie, wandering around in the fucking dark.”
Lincoln’s head appeared above us as he took in our compromising position. “OK. And you did what? Rugby tackled the poor girl to the ground.”
I pulled my gaze back to Amelie. She looked dazed. “Pretty much.”
“I must say, I’ve never seen a person less threatening. A bit extreme, wasn’t it?” my brother mocked, folding his arms over his chest.
“It was dark, dickhead,” I barked as he perched his hip against the counter.
“Well, now you’ve realised she isn’t an intruder, is there a reason you’re still lying on top of her?” Lincoln smirked. The smug look on his face wound me the fuck up. I knew he was baiting me on purpose.
“What—No—I’m half-asleep shithead, it’s the middle of the night. I’m in shock.”
Fuck, her warm, soft body felt so good beneath mine, even with an audience. Better than any other female I’d fucked.
“And still, he doesn’t move. I suggest you hop off before Dad gets in here.”
Amelie pushed against my shoulders with both hands. “Yes, please, Kieran, apart from squashing me, your phone is digging into my hip,” she said with a slight hiss of discomfort.