Chapter 4
LAUREN
Tommy stepped on a dry branch, and the memory came back.
I was standing in the woods again.
Voices carried through the trees. A man and a woman were arguing somewhere beyond the trail.
“You can’t keep threatening me, Robert.”
“Give me the phone.”
“I made copies.”
I moved toward the voices before I understood I was doing it. Through the trees, I saw a woman backing away from a sheriff’s deputy.
His hand was on his gun.
The woman held up her phone. “If anything happens to me, they’ll know it was you.”
He drew the weapon and fired.
The sound tore through the woods.
The woman dropped.
I stumbled backward and stepped on a branch.
The deputy turned toward me.
For one second, neither of us moved. I saw his face clearly. Short brown hair, square jaw and pale eyes. The nameplate above his pocket read ANDERSEN.
Then he raised the gun, and I ran.
Branches cut my arms as I left the trail. Andersen shouted for me to stop, using the same voice a cop would use with a criminal.
I didn’t stop.
I heard him crashing through the brush behind me. He was faster. The distance between us kept shrinking until his hand closed around the back of my shirt.
I screamed.
“Lauren!”
Cal caught me before I hit the ground.
The woods around the cabin returned. Tommy stood beside me, whining. I was gripping Cal’s arms hard enough to leave marks.
“I remember,” I gasped.
Cal guided me to a fallen log and crouched in front of me.
“Take your time.”
“He shot her.”
“Who?”
“The deputy. I heard them arguing, then he pulled out his gun and shot her.”
“You saw his face?”
I nodded.
“He saw me too. He chased me through the woods and caught me.”
“What happened after that?”
“I don’t know. It stops when he grabbed me.”
Cal’s expression had gone cold.
“Did you see a name?”
“Andersen. It was on his uniform.”
“First name?”
I closed my eyes and heard the dead woman’s voice.
You can’t keep threatening me, Robert.
“Robert.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Cal pulled out the club phone.
“Where are you going?”
“To find a signal.”
“What happens when you find one?”
“The Kentucky Skulls find Robert Andersen.”
I looked down at Tommy, and this time I didn’t tell Cal to stop them.
Cal
TK called back, and Lauren sat beside me on the porch while I put the club phone on speaker.
“We found him,” TK said. “Robert Andersen. Deputy with the Blackwater County Sheriff’s Office.”
TK sent a photograph seconds later, and I handed it to Lauren.
The color drained from her face. “That’s him.”
“You’re certain?” TK asked, still on the phone.
“Yes.”
The photograph showed Andersen in uniform, smiling beside the county sheriff at some charity event. He looked clean-cut and trustworthy, exactly like a man someone would approach for help.
“He’s been a deputy for twelve years,” TK said. “No disciplinary record. No formal complaints. He’s received two commendations and an award for pulling a family out of a flooded car.”
“He shot a woman,” Lauren said.
“I believe you,” TK replied. “The problem is everyone in that county believes him.”
I took the phone from her and studied Andersen’s photograph. A respectable uniform covered a lot of sins.
“Anything on the dead woman?” I asked.
“Not yet. And no missing-person report matching Lauren has been filed. It looks like Andersen is counting on fear to keep her quiet.”
“Then we let him think it worked,” I said, “while we find proof.”
Lauren rubbed her palms against her jeans. “That’s why I panicked when Cal mentioned the sheriff.”
Her memory had been gone, but some part of her had recognized the danger.
“Did you find my car?” Lauren asked.
“One of our brothers did. It’s still at the trailhead. Your tent and most of your gear are at the campsite.”
“Most?”
“Your phone is gone.”
Andersen had probably taken it.
“Can you trust anyone inside the department?” I asked.
“Not enough to risk Lauren. Andersen’s reputation means they’ll listen to him before they listen to a woman who can’t remember half the attack.”
Lauren looked at me. “So we do nothing?”
“No,” I said. “We find proof before we put you in front of anyone carrying the same badge.”
TK cleared his throat. “I’m coming up with two brothers. We’ll bring her car and camping gear.”
Lauren stiffened.
I remembered my promise. “Club members. They won’t stay unless we need them.”
She thought about it, then nodded. “Okay.”
“You hear that?” I asked TK.
“I heard her. We’ll be there before dark.”
The call ended.
Lauren looked at Andersen’s smiling photograph again.
This time, when her hand began to shake, she gave the phone back to me instead of pretending it wasn’t happening.
Lauren
Tommy lifted his ears and ran to the porch as two Harleys came up the road with my blue RAV4 behind them.
Cal stepped outside and rested one hand near his gun.
“You expecting trouble?” I asked.
“Always.”
The motorcycles stopped in front of the cabin. Two men climbed off the Harleys while a third got out of my car, all wearing Kentucky Skulls cuts and carrying holstered weapons.
The largest biker removed his helmet. His front patch identified him as PRESIDENT.
“TK Garrison,” he said, offering me his hand. “The ugly one is Holt. The uglier one is Briggs.”
“Which is which?” I asked.
Briggs grinned. “She’s going to fit in fine.”
Cal took my car keys from him. “You check it?”
“For a tracker, blood and anything else Andersen might’ve left behind. It’s clean.”
“And her gear?”
“In the back. We found everything except her phone.”
Holt opened the RAV4 and pulled out my backpack and tent. A rifle case was strapped across his back.
Tommy ran from one man to another, accepting scratches and acting as if he hadn’t seen another human in months.
TK looked at Cal. “You said the dog liked being alone with you.”
“He did before she got here.”
Tommy returned to my side and sat on my foot.
Briggs laughed. “Found a woman and lost your dog in the same week?”
“She isn’t my woman,” Cal said.
Nobody missed the warning in his voice.
The teasing stopped, but the easy affection between them didn’t. Holt checked the cabin while Briggs walked the tree line. TK inspected the generator and fuel supply without being asked.
They moved like men who had done this together before.
“We’ll keep two brothers near the main road,” TK told Cal. “They’ll change shifts every six hours.”
“You said nobody was staying,” I said.
“They won’t be at the cabin,” TK replied. “You won’t see them unless you need them.”
“Andersen is a deputy,” Cal said. “He’ll know how to find an address attached to your license plate.”
TK faced me. “Nobody here expects you to trust us because Cal does. But Andersen already beat you once to keep you quiet, and if he comes after you again, he won’t find you alone.”
Cal moved beside me, close enough that our shoulders touched.
Three armed bikers had arrived with my car and placed their club between me and Andersen.
I should have been terrified.
Instead, Robert Andersen suddenly seemed like the one who ought to be afraid.
After TK, Holt and Briggs left, Cal checked the generator again.
I followed him around the side of the cabin.
“You checked that before they arrived.”
“Doesn’t mean they didn’t mess with it.”
“They were trying to help.”
“That usually involves them touching things.”
He tested the backup battery, then replaced the cover.
The cabin lights were already on, even though the sun hadn’t fully disappeared behind the hills.
“What happened when the power went out at your house?” I asked.
Cal wiped his hands on his jeans. “We’ve been over this.”
“No. I asked, and you refused to answer.”
“I remember.”
I waited.
He looked toward the trees rather than at me.
“I was held prisoner during my last deployment,” he finally said. “They kept me underground. No windows or light unless the door opened.”
The words came out flat, but his hands had curled into fists.
“I thought I was going to die in there,” he continued. “Every time I heard the bolt move, I figured they were coming to finish it.”
“How did you get out?”
“My unit found me.”
“And when your power went out?”
“My kitchen disappeared,” he said.
He looked at me then.
“I knew where I was, Lauren. I knew the door wasn’t locked. But for however many seconds it lasted, I was back underground waiting for somebody to open it.”
“Your brothers found you?”
“On the floor, trying to get through a wall.”
That explained why he’d come to a cabin miles from anyone. It wasn’t the darkness he’d been running from.
It was being seen inside it.
“You didn’t come here to get better,” I said. “You came so nobody would see if it happened again.”
His jaw tightened. “Something like that.”
“Then you found me.”
“Ruined the whole plan.”
“Why are you telling me now?”
“Because you were right at the overlook. I expected you to answer every question I asked while giving you nothing back.”
I moved closer. “I don’t think you’re fragile.”
“I’m not.”
“I know.”
His eyes searched mine as if he expected pity and didn’t know what to do when he found none.
“I’m not going to tell you there’s nothing to fear,” I said. “But you don’t have to hide it from me.”
“I didn’t bring you here to fix me.”
“I didn’t offer to.”
That almost made him smile.
I placed my hand against his chest, directly over the Kentucky Skulls patch.
Cal looked down at it, then back at me.
His gaze dropped to my mouth.
"You told me to ask again when I could walk away," I said.
Cal waited for me to continue.
"My car is outside. I can stand on my own, and nobody is keeping me here."
"Do you want to leave?"
"No."
I slid my hand up his chest and curled my fingers around the edge of his cut.
"Kiss me again."
He searched my face. "You're sure?"
"Yes."
Cal kissed me before I could say anything else.
His hand fisted in my hair and pulled, tipping my head back while his tongue pushed between my lips. His other hand gripped my waist, careful of my ribs but firm enough that I felt the strength he was holding in check. I made a sound against his lips and his grip tightened.
I pushed his cut from his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor without breaking the kiss.
Then both hands were on me, sliding down my back, pulling my hips flush against his.
I could feel him hard against my stomach, thick and straining behind his jeans, and I rolled my hips into him just to hear the groan that rumbled up from his chest.
His hand slipped beneath my shirt, and I shivered.
“Cold?” he asked.
I laughed.
He led me into the bedroom and kicked the door shut before Tommy could follow us.
As he undressed me slowly, his eyes moved over the bruises.
"Stop looking at them," I said.
"Hard not to."
I took his hand and pressed it flat against my bare stomach. "They don't hurt when you touch me."
"Tell me if that changes."
"I will."
He unhooked my bra and let it drop, then cupped both breasts in his rough hands, his thumbs dragging across my nipples until they peaked hard against his palms. I gasped and arched into him, and he bent his head and took one into his mouth, sucking until I whimpered, then biting down just enough to make my knees shake.
"Cal..."
He kissed down my stomach, sinking to his knees in front of me, and hooked his fingers into my waistband. He looked up at me as he dragged my jeans and underwear down together, and the sight of him on his knees, looking up at me like that, made me so wet I could feel it on my inner thighs.
He pressed his mouth to my hip bone. Then lower. Then his hands were gripping my thighs, spreading me open, and his tongue dragged through me in one slow stroke.
"Oh fuck." My hand shot to his hair and grabbed. He groaned against me and the vibration sent a jolt straight up my spine.
He licked me with the flat of his tongue, then circled my clit slowly. When he pushed two fingers inside me, my hips jerked forward. He didn't pull back. He curled his fingers and sucked my clit into his mouth at the same time.
"I can't... my legs..." I panted.
He stood, lifted me like I weighed nothing, and laid me on the bed.
Then he stripped off his shirt and I just stared.
Tanned skin stretched over hard tattooed muscle, a trail of dark hair disappearing below his belt.
He unbuckled his jeans and shoved them down with his boxers, and my mouth went dry.
He was big, thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip. I wanted him inside me so badly I could feel my pulse between my legs.
He reached into the side pocket of his duffel, pulled out a condom and tore open the wrapper.
“I’m on the pill,” I said. “And I want you bare.”
“I’m clean. You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
He tossed it aside, and I smiled. I wanted him inside me with nothing between us, and I wanted to feel him come.
He moved over me and braced his weight on his arms.
“Still sure?” he asked.
I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled. “Cal. Fuck me.”
He pushed in slowly. Inch by inch, stretching me open, and I felt every bit of it. My mouth fell open and my nails dug into his shoulders and I couldn't breathe until he bottomed out.
"Jesus Christ, Lauren." His forehead dropped against mine. "You feel..."
"Move," I begged. “Ride me hard.”
He pulled back and thrust into me exactly how I wanted. He did it again and again, finding a rhythm that was deep and relentless, his hips snapping against mine, the bed slamming into the cabin wall with every stroke.
I was making sounds I couldn't control. His mouth found mine, his tongue stroking against mine in time with his thrusts. I dragged my nails down his back.
"Right there," I gasped. "Don't stop..."
He shifted his angle and hitched my thigh higher on his hip. My whole body tightened around him. His rhythm turned harder and faster, driving into me over and over.
"Come for me," he said.
My back arched off the mattress as the orgasm hit. I couldn’t stop myself from shaking as he kept moving through it.
After a few more strokes, he buried himself deep and came, rope after rope pulsing inside me, and I forgot everything except the sensation of the moment.
He stayed over me for a moment, then pulled out.
He drew me against his chest. I curled my hand around his softening cock, not ready to stop touching him.
“Lauren.”
I knew from his tone what he was about to say.
"This isn't casual for me."
"Good."
He looked down at me.
I moved my hand over his heart, feeling it pound beneath my palm. "It isn't casual for me either."
Cal tightened his arm around me and neither of us tried to put distance between us.