Chapter 13
Cass
Ilay there cuddling Reggie’s wiry little body, my mind buzzing with leftover adrenaline even though my body was utterly exhausted.
I still couldn’t believe my luck. I had gotten my precious Reggie back.
She was right here, in my arms, her hair tickling my nose and mouth.
I’d been horrified when I helped her into her pajamas and saw all the needle marks and bruises on her pale arms. Furious at those cruel, clumsy hacks.
Guilty that I hadn’t protected her better.
Now, I cuddled closer, intensely conscious of each slow breath. Grateful for it. Every breath was beautiful, precious. A treasure. A small victory to celebrate.
Please, God. Give her a long, happy lifetime of them.
Shane had looked starkly miserable at dinner. His face was like a marble mask. And I was not the only person who noticed. Of course, he’d been through hell, but I could sense, from the way he tensed when Holly’s arrival was mentioned, that he was deathly afraid to see his little girl tomorrow.
He was afraid of disappointing her. Of not having whatever he thought that she needed from him, after being altered for the worse by his ordeal.
Halliwell’s cruelty was a gift that kept on giving. Shane was free, but he was tense, joyless. He couldn’t rejoice at being home. That was tragic. And unacceptable.
I was in the same boat, of course. Scared shitless of how vulnerable and exposed Reggie’s illness made me. But Shane had it worse.
That bastard was not going to drive a wedge between Shane and his little girl if I had anything to say about it.
Shane could not possibly disappoint his kid.
He was like a demigod. What he’d endured, what he’d survived.
She might be shy with him, wary of what the experience had done to him, but once everyone relaxed and adjusted, his daughter was going to be so proud of her dad. I was sure of it.
I eased my arm from beneath Reggie’s arm, inching away until I could climb out of the bed. She was in the deep sleep of total exhaustion. My sweet, brave honey.
I got up and made my way slowly down the hall on tiptoes, to the room where they had put Shane. I put my hand on the knob… and hesitated.
I knocked, very softly. If he was sleeping, I didn’t want to wake him.
“Yeah?” I barely heard the low rasp of his voice through the door.
I pushed the door open. He sat up in his bed.
“It’s me,” I whispered.
“Come on in.”
I closed the door. The only light was the outdoor lighting that came through the picture windows. Just enough to show the shape of the room, the outlines of his dark form.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said.
“Me neither,” he said. “Maybe I never will. Or maybe it’s just the wake-up drug you gave me. I hope so. That means it’ll wear off eventually. Time will tell.”
“I couldn’t say what that stuff was,” I said. “Jana gave me that dose already loaded into the syringe.”
“Who’s Jana?”
I hesitated for a moment. “A woman I met there,” I said.
“The one I told you guys about, whose mother was killed by one of the fake diseases. She helped me. I had to steal your body from her. At least that was how we played it. She gave me a knock-out syringe for her, and a wake-up syringe for you.”
“A woman helped you?” he said slowly. “Why did she help you?”
“Like I said. Halliwell played the same dirty game with her that he’s playing with me. He sickened and then killed her mom with one of his fake diseases.”
I regretted opening up this avenue of questioning. I certainly didn’t want to mention being half-siblings with that crowd. Revealing that I was Halliwell’s daughter would compromise any alliance I might form with these people. I didn’t dare to do that.
Reggie came first.
“So she helped you for her dead mother’s sake?” He sounded doubtful.
“That was the sense I got,” I said cautiously. “I tried to get her to come with us, but she refused. She gave me the syringes. Told me to knock her out before I took the gurney, to make it look good.”
“He must suspect her, then. Because nothing looks good in this mess.”
I swallowed. “I don’t think she really cares anymore,” I said. “I think she’s at the end of her rope. She’s a good person stuck in a poisonous place. I felt really bad for using her, in the shape she was in, but I was desperate. And we got this far, right?”
“We sure did,” he said.
His tone, and the silence that followed struck me as odd and suspicious. “What? What’s on your mind? Talk to me.”
“There’s a lot you didn’t tell me, Red.”
My jaw sagged. “For real? Think back over the past eight hours! Was there a good moment for a blow-by-blow debrief?”
“It just seems improbable. That this woman turned her colors on the spot. Convenient for you, right?”
I thought about Jana’s haunted eyes, her swollen jaw.
The grief in her reddened eyes and gaunt face.
“It wasn’t on the spot. It was a long time coming.
You’re not the only one Halliwell has hurt, Shane.
He has a long history of destroying people.
Lots of people hate him independently of you.
You have to take a number and get in line. ”
He grunted. “Fine. But as soon as you’ve gotten a good night’s sleep, I’d like a… how did you put it? A blow-by-blow debrief. Every piece of information you can give us might help, once we go on the offensive.”
That made my body clench in alarm. “I despise the man with every cell in my body, but I don’t want to go to war with him. I just want to save my little sister.”
“You won’t have a choice. Not if he goes to war with you.”
God, how exhausting this was. My mother had told me all my life, and I still hadn’t understood how destructive being near Halliwell would be. But this was no time for a pity party. “I’ll do whatever I have to do,” I said grimly.
He let out a harsh laugh. “Yay for you. That’s the spirit.”
“You think this is funny?”
“Gallows humor,” he said.
“You’re not on the gallows.” My voice was intense. “You’re home, Shane. Surrounded by smart, strong, powerful people who love you. Your circumstances have changed. You should let them in. Let it all in. You can afford to.”
He was silent for a moment. “I wish I could feel it,” he said. “But I can’t.”
“You’ve only been here for a couple of hours. Give it time.”
“We don’t have time. It’s all happening right now.”
I reached out, placing my hand on top of his. “I know how you feel. I can’t believe that this is happening, either. It seems like a dream. Having Reggie here, asleep on a soft bed with clean sheets and fleece pajamas. Safe, well fed, happy. With me.”
He nodded, staring down at my hand. I turned it, palm up. His fingers closed around mine, and a shudder of excitement stole my breath.
“One thing feels extremely real, though,” I said softly.
He didn’t need me to name it. He just nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Same.”
His laconic words set off fireworks deep inside my body. “So?” I prompted.
“Is that why you came in here?” he asked. “So I could make you feel real?”
His words stung, like he was accusing me of using him. I pulled back at my hand. “Not if you’re not into it,” I said. “Don’t do me any favors.”
“I’m always into it, if it’s you,” he said. “Don’t get mad. You want real, you get real. I’m not tiptoeing around anybody’s tender feelings right now. I couldn’t if I wanted to. And with you, the truth just falls out of me.”
I nodded. I wished I could tell him all of my truths. It felt wrong to hold anything back.
“Hey,” he said. “Speaking of truth falling out. This afternoon, at the cabin. I came inside of you. We didn’t talk about it at the time. Is it a problem?”
“No,” I assured him. “A couple years ago, I got an implant. It was for a brief thing that went nowhere, because right about then Mom started getting sick. So I basically forgot about the guy. And the implant, too, for that matter.”
“Ah. Okay.” I sensed his relief, and the anticipation that suddenly buzzed the air.
He still wouldn’t let go of my hand. “Tell me exactly what you want from me, Red,” he said. “I don’t trust myself to read nonverbal cues right now.”
My hand tightened around his. “Let me make you feel real.”
His breathing quickened. The air felt hot, charged. “Reggie’s sleeping soundly?”
“Like a rock,” I told him.
He slid off the bed and headed for the door.
“Hey! Your feet!” I protested.
He flicked the door lock closed. “They’re fine. Truth-telling with you turns me on. My endorphins just shot through the roof. I’m feeling no pain.” He whipped off his sweatshirt as he walked toward the bed. Dropped the pajama pants.
He was naked beneath them. His long, thick cock stood up, magnificently erect. He stood there waiting, gripping his cock, stroking it. “Your move, Red,” he said.
I slid off the bed, tossed off the soft nightgown that Angela had left, and dropped my underwear.
I was stark naked, in a locked room with my fantasy man, all hot, bothered and breathless, having made vague, extravagant promises about sexual pleasure that I didn’t necessarily know how to fulfill.
That was Cass Clarke for you. Always stumbling around, way outside her comfort zone.
But that was just fine. It wasn’t comfort that I wanted tonight.
My move, he’d said. Well, then. I put my hands on his chest, stroking him. What was it Angela said? Steel cables wrapped around bent rebar. But something more. My fingers dug in, stroking, exploring his heat and power and vitality. He pulsed with it.
His hands covered mine, and moved them down, over his belly, lower. He wrapped my hands around his thick, hot cock, clasping over mine. Squeezing, moving on his stiff shaft. My thighs squeezed and trembled. I was already wet. Hot. Breathless.
The impulse just came over me. I sank down onto the discarded nightgown, gripping his cock in both hands, and took him into my mouth.