Chapter 3 Gwen
My phone began ringing as soon as I left the cemetery. I tapped the speaker button since my truck didn’t have a hands-free option. But I did have a phone mount on the dashboard, which meant I didn’t have to hold it while talking and could keep both hands on the wheel.
“Hey.”
There was only one person who would call me in the middle of the night. The same person who knew that I drove here at midnight to visit Becka’s grave. My brother.
“Jesus, G., where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling you for over an hour.”
He sounded pissed, but worried too. A lot more worried than angry.
“Sorry. I lost track of time.”
“Well, look at your damn phone once in a while. For fuck’s sake, I drove to your apartment to look for you. I almost called the police to file a missing person report.”
“I’m touched. Truly.”
“You almost ended up on AMBER Alert,” he huffed.
“Ethan,” I laughed. “That’s only for kids.”
“Well,” he sputtered. “I would have tried.”
I believed him. “I’m so lucky to have you.”
“It’s not funny, G. Not after, well. . . everything.”
Guilt swept through me. I’d been more focused on a certain stranger and his smoldering eyes along with his invisible pet than checking my phone. I should have been more responsible since I knew Ethan would worry.
“I’m sorry. You’re right.”
He sighed. “Coffee?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll meet you at the diner.” It didn’t matter whether I came alone or Becka was visiting; Ethan always arrived first and saved us a seat.
Now it was just a table for two.
“See you in fifteen minutes.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that, G.”
He ended the call, and my thoughts immediately began to wander, drawn to the stranger dressed in black. I had a feeling Cin appeared only when he wanted to be seen. How long had he been in the cemetery and possibly watching me?
That wasn’t half as disturbing as being shoved to the ground by an invisible demon dog named Omen. I’d have to think about that later when I wasn’t so mentally and physically exhausted.
By the time I reached the diner, I contemplated telling my brother we needed to reschedule. But I couldn’t do that to him, not after burying Becka.
For a moment, the pain resurfaced and almost strangled me. I sucked air into my lungs, gripping the steering wheel tight as I fought the sting of tears. Once I regained control, I exited the truck and headed inside to meet my brother.
Ethan stood as soon as he saw me. His concerned gaze swept over me from head to toe before his shoulders relaxed, and some of the tension eased. “Hey.” He opened his arms, and I sank into his embrace, thankful I still had my other sibling in my life. “You okay?”
“I’m trying to be,” I replied honestly as he released me. I took the seat opposite him, sinking onto the worn but comfortable cushion.
“French fries and ranch?”
Our usual order. Becka’s favorite late-night snack, and mine too. A hangover cure she swore by.
Or used to.
Nodding, I spread a napkin open, taking a few seconds to spread out the silverware. “And a strong coffee,” I added.
“Good. I already ordered. Shouldn’t be long.”
I sat forward and rested my elbows on the table, dropping my head into my hands. Ethan’s stare felt heavy as he watched me rub my temples. When I lifted my head, I caught sight of his bruised and busted knuckles.
He dealt with his shit his way. Boxing. The ring was the one place he could work out his demons, and violence seemed to work for him as long as it occurred in a controlled setting.
My brother wasn’t the confrontational type unless you pushed him too far.
His hot button topics included his sisters, his ex-girlfriend, and his motorcycle.
Nothing else fazed him.
“Spend the night in the ring?”
“Had to have something to do while I waited for you.”
“What about Tiffany?” The ex. His on-and-off, cold-and-hot relationship with his childhood sweetheart was a sore subject on most nights. Right now? I wasn’t sure.
Ethan’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “She’s out of town.”
Interesting.
“You’ve got dirt all over you,” he informed me. “What did you do? Roll around on top of her grave?”
“Something like that,” I murmured, thinking of Omen.
He opened his mouth to comment with something that was probably snarky when the waitress approached us. Instead, he nodded toward her as she brought a carafe of coffee, a little white bowl full of single-serving, vanilla-flavored coffee creamers, and two mugs. Sugar was already on the table.
“Here ya go. I’ll go grab those fries and be back in a minute.”
Ethan poured us both a mug two-thirds full, leaving a bit of room for the creamer and sugar we both used.
He snatched the little container full of sugar packets and pushed it close.
Neither of us said a word as we stirred the sweetener and creamer in and took our first sip.
A joint sigh escaped as the caffeine hit our systems.
“I needed this,” I murmured as the waitress returned.
She set a large platter of crispy, hot fries and two sides of ranch dressing between us. Not the stuff that was too thin and barely stuck to anything. This diner used the thick homemade version, and the ranch seasoning was delicious.
Then she added another plate beside it. “I had Mitch make a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches on the house. You both look like you could use a little something more in your bellies.”
“Thanks,” Ethan replied as she winked at him and walked away.
I didn’t think she was flirting since she had to be over fifty. More like it came from a motherly instinct. Or maybe we just looked like we’d been to hell and back. I sure felt like it.
“This is good,” Ethan announced after picking up a triangle and taking a bite, cheese oozing out the side.
“Yeah,” I agreed as I ate one too, devouring it as I realized I was starving. I gobbled it down and managed a couple of sips of coffee before reaching for the fries.
“I didn’t eat all day,” he admitted. “Couldn’t.”
“Me either,” I confessed, dunking another fry in ranch before popping it into my mouth. “Is that why this tastes so amazing right now?”
“Gotta be, G.”
We ate in silence after that, finishing off all the food. When only the coffee was left, we both sat back, holding our mugs. The heat warmed my chilled fingers. This would have been nice if not for the fact that we met here because of our dead sister.
The diner was empty except for the staff and us, and since this place was open twenty-four hours a day, I didn’t worry that we were keeping anyone from going home.
This diner had been around since before our parents were born, and it had an old, homey feel to it. The dark red seats were worn but comfortable. The lighting dim but cozy. Simple décor. Great food. Music that mostly played hits from the seventies, eighties, and nineties. Not too loud either.
“I took the week off work.”
My brother graduated from college two years ago with a degree in nuclear physics and engineering. He got hired right after and worked for a consulting firm that handled high-profile clients. He made seriously good money.
“I’m proud of you, Ethan. I don’t know if I ever told you that.”
He arched a dark brow. “I’m sure you did.”
“Well, if I didn’t, I’m telling you now. You’re smart, successful, and you should pay for the food.”
He smirked. “I thought that was coming.”
“Hey, I don’t have your bank account. I need to rely on your generous nature.”
He saw my attempt at humor for what it was and didn’t call me out on it.
Neither of us needed to talk about all the sad and dark shit weighing us down or the reasons we didn’t speak to our parents much, especially after dad showed up to the funeral reception drunk.
Mom screeching at him in front of everyone didn’t help.
We suffered enough loss and heartache without rehashing any of the drama.
“I should follow you home. You always get weird and loopy when you’re sleepy.”
“I appreciate it, little brother.”
Ethan paid the check once we finished our coffees. Once I slid from the booth, he slid an arm around my shoulders and guided me toward the exit. “You need me, call.”
“Anytime, day or night,” I promised. I knew the drill.
“Love you, G.”
“Love you too.”
After a hug that felt a little too tight, we parted.
My brother followed me home, just as he promised.
He didn’t pull away from my apartment building until I waved from inside the lobby.
You had to have a key card to enter, so I felt safe here.
Still, it was nice to see the security guy at the desk.
He waved as I approached the elevator, and I waved back before riding up to the fifth floor.
I yanked off my sweatshirt as I reached my apartment, growing warm inside the building.
My key got stuck in the door as I opened it, and I tripped, banging my foot into the corner of the wood. “Ouch! Shit!” I cursed as I shut and locked it, doused in darkness because I forgot to turn on any lights before I left. To say I was distracted after burying Becka was an understatement.
Just as I sighed, one of the lamps in my living room flicked on. I screeched as I held up my purse, ready to use it as a weapon.
“You really should invest in a security system, Bambi. It’s far too easy to break in.”
I blinked at Cin, staring at him with equal parts shock and annoyance. Not only did he break in, but he didn’t have the decency to make an excuse. “What are you doing here?”
He gestured to my purse. “Planning to clobber me with that?”
“The thought crossed my mind.” I tossed my sweatshirt to the floor to pick up later when I wasn’t so tired, still clutching at my purse.
His lips twitched before widening into a grin. “Unpredictable. I like it. Feisty too. How’s your foot?”
“Fine,” I mumbled.
“You should set your purse down. It looks heavy.”
He had no idea. I literally kept everything in there.
“Again, why are you here?” I placed my keys in the bowl by the door and dropped my purse beside it. “And tell me how you found out where I live.”
“Why? You gonna call security? Have me thrown out?” He looked intrigued by the idea.
“No. A waste of my time since you’ll leave on your own.”
“Seems you think you’re in control, Bambi.”
“I am.” Lifting my chin, I stared into his eyes, which, now that I could see them better, were a beautiful and mesmerizing shade of light green. Earlier, at the cemetery, they held an ethereal quality. I could swear they almost glowed.
My perusal didn’t end there. I couldn’t resist staring. The man in front of me resembled some sort of dark god. Powerful. Commanding.
He popped to his feet. Almost freakishly tall, his head wasn’t far from touching my 7-foot ceiling.
He shoved his hood back, and I nearly gaped at him.
Cin was too handsome to be real. Dark brown hair shaved close to his head, and an angular jaw.
A short but thick black beard and mustache.
Light green eyes that seemed to peer deep down into my soul.
That was when I studied the rest of him.
Muscular but lithe physique. Earlier, when I met him at the cemetery, he moved with an almost feline grace.
Like a panther. Cin had a scar that bisected his left brow, and a metal stud earring in his left ear.
Black leather braided bracelets on his thick wrists.
He was a biker. I’d already noticed the leather vest, but now I saw the chunky silver rings, jeans, and shitkicker boots.
Bad boy persona, check.
“Is that so?” He strode toward me fast enough that I took an immediate step backward, suddenly not sure if he meant to harm me as my back met the door. “Don’t look so frightened, Bambi. I won’t hurt you.”
Cin obviously didn’t understand the concept of personal space because he not only broke into my apartment, but was now only a couple of inches away from me. His palms lifted and pressed against the door on either side of my head.
“What are you—?” I didn’t finish because he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to my collarbone.
His tongue lightly traced along the ridge, trailing up the column of my throat.
He paused, staying in place with his lips on my suddenly fevered skin.
Right over my carotid artery. He didn’t move.
Didn’t pull away. Even when I began to pant.
My heart raced. I squirmed, desperate to shove him off me because this was too much. Too intimate.
Cin dropped his hands like he sensed what I was about to do and wrapped them securely around my upper arms. “Stay still.” The tip of his tongue touched my neck, and he groaned. He licked at my skin, lapping at it like a dog at a water bowl. No, not a dog, a predator sating his thirst.
Wait. Were those his teeth grazing the lower portion of my jaw?
My head swam, and I felt unsteady on my feet. I swear that I heard him growl, but my ears were buzzing so loudly I couldn’t be sure. Lightheaded, I nearly swayed. I probably would have fallen if he hadn’t been holding me up. Right before my knees gave out, I heard him curse.
“Fuck.” Cin scooped under my legs and lifted me, hauling my body close to his chest. “You need rest. I can feel your exhaustion.” He began to walk toward my room.
I almost asked how he knew where to find it, but remembered he broke in. Cin probably checked out every room before he took a seat on my couch.
“You broke into my apartment,” I murmured accusingly as my head lolled and my face pressed close to his neck. Dark ink swirled across the tan flesh—markings I didn’t quite understand. Some kind of ancient symbol peeked from the collar of his shirt and stretched up his throat.
He sucked in a sharp breath when I lifted my hand and touched my fingertip to the design. “Pretty.”
“Shhh. No talking. Sleep, Bambi.”
My back rested on my mattress as I stared up at Cin. He removed my shoes, covered me with a blanket, and then sat in the chair across from my bed.
I should have wondered why I felt so lethargic and exhausted. The coffee would normally have rejuvenated me. Instead, I lost my grip on reality. My eyes fluttered and closed. I fell asleep with a stranger in my bedroom.
And I didn’t have a clue if he intended to stay, leave me alone, or watch me sleep.
A small part of me hoped he did remain in my apartment until I woke up, because even if I only met him tonight, there was something there between us that I couldn’t name—a connection.
Cin had an undeniable protective vibe about him. I knew he wouldn’t harm me.
Nothing about this made sense.
Before my mind could conjure fear, I was dreaming about a motorcycle ride through a barren street, Cin, and streaks of trees in my peripheral vision.
The oddest part? It felt like it wasn’t the first time.