23. Garrison
TWENTY-THREE
GARRISON
“ M y brother? We’re calling Colton?” she questions, holding her clothing to her chest. I want nothing more than to stay naked with her, roll her onto her side, hoist one of her slender legs up and rut into her from behind. I’d love to feel her pulse beneath my palm as I keep my hand on her throat, my words filling her brain with promises of pleasure and pain. Carsyn can take it. Carsyn fucking wants it. She wants me.
And I want her, too.
But first, I have to finish what I started.
I slip my henley on, then feed my arms through a flannel, buttoning it as I watch her. “Yes. We’re gonna call him and plan a meet up. He and Kinleigh are in Virginia right now, at FBI headquarters. We have to time the call just right, when they’re leaving. Then we’ll plan to meet up.”
I nod at the lump of clothes she’s holding against her body. “Get dressed, we’re gonna go to Daring Springs to get you that pill, and make the call.”
She’s not chained up and I’m taking her out of this prison. She has every opportunity to bolt, but no part of me believes she will.
Stealing the sight of her supple breasts from me, Carsyn slips into her bra and shirt, then tugs on a hoodie I toss her. She stands to get her panties and pants on, but I help her, bending to hook them around her feet as she steps. I stare at the naked pussy one last time before she tugs her panties up, and I pray to return here. Not just to her body, but to a place where she and I get dressed together after fucking, where she sits passenger as I drive us around to do errands, our hands threaded together by the fingers over the center console.
If I believe I can take down Forrest, winning Carsyn’s heart for the long term has to be possible.
“Into town?” she questions, pulling her satiny hair over her shoulder, quickly tying it into a messy braid.
I nod. “Yeah, we’ll call him when we reach Daring Springs. There’s a drug store and diner there, no one from Buffalo Trails frequents.” I shove the tail of my shirt into my jeans and buckle my belt. Carsyn’s eyes are on me, hot and questioning. My skin heats from her attention, and I don’t know if it’s because my cum is deep inside of her, or if it’s the full involvement of my heart, but I could live my whole life under her gaze, I swear I could.
“We could call from here, couldn’t we?” she closes the space between us, shoving her hands in the front pockets of my jeans, making my cock stir. “And you could chain me to my bed and get the Plan B and come back with it, couldn’t you?”
My mouth goes dry and my chest tightens. “Yes, I could.”
She rocks to her toes and drags her tongue against my closed lips, heat crawling along the back of my neck. “But you’re taking me with you.”
Her lips dust mine before she brushes past me, out of my room toward the kitchen. I scratch the back of my head, and follow after her, hoping to walk off my growing erection.
In the kitchen, she’s filling the kettle with water at the sink, but her eyes find me the moment I walk in.
“Okay, since we’re gonna call Colton—and I’m assuming you’re gonna fill me in as to why we’re calling him,” she starts, turning off the faucet when water ripples over the porcelain edges. She starts the burner and lowers the kettle. “Why did you hurt him?”
I’m on the brink of explaining to her why her brother is a crucial part of how this thing ends, but am stopped by her question. I have a lot of explaining to do to Carsyn and her family, and for whatever reason, I didn’t expect to face it yet.
Carsyn wants to understand, and it’s because her heart is open. She wants to feel safe, to understand and believe in me and what I’ve done. She wants me, but she needs all the information.
I take a seat at the barstool across from where she stands, and watch as she readies two mugs for tea.
“Being an informant means being handed freedom to break the law, as long as it serves the greater objective of the case,” I start, reciting things FBI agents have been fed to say while on the stand. It’s true, but just partially, because the raw truth is far too unappealing for the general public. She drops a bag of tea into my mug, draping the tea tag over the edge. “No booze until I get answers,” she says with a playful smile.
I scratch my jaw and finger the end of my beard. “I had to beat up Colton a few times, that’s true. And I gave him paralytic when it was a benefit to him. Had I not done those things, Forrest would have known it. And if he would have had a single whiff of favoritism or savior mentality, I’d be dead.” She fills the mug, and steam lifts, curling the stray pieces of hair around her face. Carsyn is a natural beauty, and my heart thumps at the renaissance of her beauty. “If I’m dead, well, Colton and Kinleigh would be, too.”
She nods, wrapping her hands around the mug as she lifts it to her lips, blowing gently across the surface. The tea ripples, and her eyes stay intently on me. “That makes sense.”
“Because it’s true.” I know that she lived in a state of confusion when her brother was missing, and a state of blasphemy when he returned and told her everything that had been and is going on with the Conway family. She’s had to process a lot, not just shit about Grafton Marks or Forrest Conway but in total. “I haven’t lied to you, Carsyn, and I won’t ever.” I sip my hot as fuck tea and ignore the scalding simmer on my tongue. “I hurt Colton to keep him safe, the same way I gave you paralytic and chained you up. To keep you safe.”
Carsyn lowers her mug to the counter, and my chest squeezes at the way her brows fall into a straight line. “I know that,” she says, an edge to her tone. “I understand it now.”
“This your first time buying a Plan B?” she asks as I help her into a coat, and place a hat on her head. It’s one of my old ones, rimmed with sweat, faded from years of being under the sun. But two hats is all I have here, and she should wear one of them.
I pluck my hat from the counter and rest it on my head, snatching up my keys and wallet next. “Yes,” I reply honestly.
“Usually wrap it up, huh?” she asks, toeing into her boots, still a little wobbly on her feet. Not sure if that’s from the sex or the paralytic but either way, I let her grip at my forearm to steady herself.
“Hmm,” I grumble, not answering the question but instead, moving past her to the front door while she zips her coat and adjusts my hat on her head. She looks cute as fuck in it, but I don’t tell her. The freedom to share those little thoughts comes only after this objective is complete, so I can stay somewhat fucking focused. Instead, I yank the door open and ask, “you comin’ or what?”
She walks past with a grin. “I already did. Three times in the last day.”
My dick thickens behind my zipper.
“Don’t think you’re gonna avoid that question, either.” She yanks open the truck door and steps up on the step side, sliding into the seat. She looks good in this new pickup, but then again, she looks good on a horse, tractor and lying chained in a bed, too. Her beautiful features carve out a serious expression. “You clean?”
I shut her door and walk around the truck, eyeing her through the windshield. After I get inside and buckle up, I cast her a glance. Inside the truck is cold, and our conversation leaves puffs of white between us.
“I’m clean.” I start the truck and stare out the front window for a moment while the engine warms. “You ain’t got a reason to believe me, but I wouldn’t have fucked you bare if I wasn’t clean. I wouldn’t do that,” I tell her, finally turning to face her. Garrison might, but I wouldn’t.
Carsyn has the sleeves of her hoodie tucked over her hands as she lifts them up in front of the heating vent, warming them. Still, her eyes are on me. “Thanks for saying so. I’m still figuring you out, after all.”
I shift the truck in drive, and head to the small drug store forty minutes south of Buffalo Trails, in the small town nearby. We grab the pill and head back, and all the while, I can’t stop thinking about what she said.
She’s still figuring me out.
Telling her who I really am may help with that.
Soon.
Pulled over on the side of the road, my phone in my hand between us, Carsyn hits dial. It rings, and though we’ve been over the conversation several times, still, I’m anxious to get it over with.
Carsyn’s wide eyes blink up at me as it rings.
This is the time to call. I hold out my other phone, showing her brother’s location on the screen. I told her on the drive over that I put a tracker on his truck the night he took Kinleigh from Forrest’s place. I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d do with knowing his whereabouts, and the FBI didn’t know I did it, but I’m glad now that I did.
I knew from the newscast the other night that he and Kinleigh would be going to headquarters. They think they’ll barge in and get answers, and I don’t disagree that it should work that way. But it don’t.
“Colton,” Colton answers, and tears immediately spring to Carsyn’s eyes.
“Colton, it’s Carsyn, don’t say anything, please,” she urges, reciting what we practiced. I’m pretty certain Colton is just with Kinleigh, but to be sure, she asks as she was told to do. “It’s just you and Kinney, right? In your truck, on the road?”
Colton swallows. “Are you… on the road?” The sigh that rattles through the line warms my blood. Carsyn’s tears flow with abundance at the sound of her brother’s voice, at his pure, unbridled relief. “Oh god, Carsyn, you’re alive.”
He sobs, and she sobs, too, and I feel out of place in their private moment, despite being the one who is going to bring them back together. Though I am the one who tore them apart, for their own good.
“No-no, I’m not. I’m safe, Colton. I’ve been safe this whole time. That’s why I’m calling?—”
“Carsyn, where are you? Who has you? Who took you?” He swallows thickly, fear evident in the way his voice trembles through the line. “Goddamn it, does Forrest have you?”
“No,” she rushes to answer. “No, I’m—I’m safe. Listen, I need you to meet me tomorrow,” she tells him, my vengeance plan calculated down to the minute.
I haven’t just been watching Carsyn. I’ve been paying attention to Forrest, and tracking him, too. Three times a week he heads to that barn they call a brewery, and the next time he’s there will be the last time he’s anywhere.
Bet.
“I’m gonna text you an address. Come alone, okay? Please, this isn’t a trick or anything. You gotta come alone. Leave Kinney with Nash.” She licks her lips, teary eyes searching mine. I nod, hoping to infuse her with strength. I hate that a sliver of her is likely questioning if this is sabotage.
It’s not sabotage. It’s a gift to Colton, and to me.
“Tomorrow. The address. I’ll send a time, too. Please, be there,” she whispers. She ends the call, and I can’t help but swipe at the tears on her cheeks, and drag her into my lap. She cries against me, for what she went through, for her fear, for all of it. And I hold her, wishing to God I wasn’t part of those tears. But I know I am.
I also know I will spend my life undoing her pain, if I get the chance.