Chapter Fifteen #2
“As I’m the only one of us that drives, I’ll ride down. What’s wrong?” All the lightness from before is gone.
“Nothing, I promise. It’s actually good news. I had some buyers come around today. They made me an offer on the cattle.”
“You’re selling the cattle?”
“Half of it. Yes.”
“Okay, and the offer?”
“Less than what I know I could get, but I was the one who suggested it. I want a quick and clean sale, and this way they know better than to hesitate because plenty of others will be waiting in the wings to buy it out from under them.”
“Ruthless. I like it.”
“I thought you might. I’m gonna need a financial advisor. I know you mentioned it briefly when I got my inheritance, but I’m out of my depth here. I’d love you even more if you took care of all that boring stuff for me, especially as I’m going to be paying you now.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I do. You deserve every penny, and we both know I can afford it.”
“Okay, fine, and yes, I’ll deal with the advisor and all the boring shit you don’t want to. I’ll still need you to read and sign things. I’ll get you a damn fax machine.”
“People still use those?”
“Smart people do. You don’t need the internet for one, and they’re harder to hack or intercept.”
“Not my area of expertise, but I’ll go with whatever you want. Oh, I bought a load of stuff today, so if you get a bunch of notifications from my bank, authorize them for me.”
“Anything interesting?”
“I bought a tractor?”
“I don’t think interesting means what you think it does.” She mutters, making me laugh, as I lock up and carry my glass down the hallway to the back deck so I can sit and star gaze for a while.
“I bought some seeds and plants, and a bunch of other things. I’m excited, Jen.”
“Then I’m excited to.” And funnily enough, I believe her. All she wants is for me to be happy. I’m not sure that’s something I can give her, but I’m going to damn well try.
I look over toward the ranch house and see the lights on in the living room. Because they are, I see Riggs move past the window before turning and moving the other way. I frown as his arms move animatedly along with his lips. Is he talking to someone?
“Hey, Jen, I’ve gotta go.”
“Wait, you haven’t told me about this sexy voiced man. Dammit, you distracted me on purpose.”
“He has an eyepatch.”
“Ooh sexy pirate vibes.”
“A deep, gravelly voice.”
“Sexy audiobook narrator vibes.”
“And he’s a former gangbanger.”
“Sexy group sex vibes. Wait—”
But I hang up before she can say anything more, guessing she’ll probably know more about Riggs than he knows about himself, before she arrives here. I put my phone on silent, knowing she’ll call me back, and when my cellphone lights up, I grin, because I was right.
I put my phone in my pocket and head toward the ranch house as Riggs continues to pace backward and forward. My frown deepens as I approach. I can’t make out his words as the building is pretty well insulated, so I try the door, happy to find it unlocked and slip inside.
I can hear him muttering, so I head in that direction, moving through the shadows toward the light when it suddenly goes quiet.
The air stirs around me, but I don’t hear a single thing.
Feeling a tingle on the back of my neck, I move fast, taking a relieved breath when I step into the well-lit family room.
My relief only lasts a moment, though, before I find myself pinned to the wall with an arm pressed against my throat, effectively cutting off my airway.
Riggs stares down at me, his expression cold, like nothing I’ve ever seen on him before.
I claw along his arm, desperately trying to drag in some air, but the man is unmovable.
The betrayal I feel right now cuts like a knife, but as a current of electricity rushes over my body, ready to strike, it dawns on me that his expression hasn’t changed, hasn’t even flickered since he pinned me here.
In fact, though his expression is cold, it’s also empty.
Vacant. Like the lights are on but nobody’s home.
Oh shit, he’s asleep. And I have no idea where in his head he’s trapped, but I’m guessing it’s not me he’s seeing pinned under his weight.
I close my eyes and focus, trying to counter the panic I feel with calm, knowing I don’t want to do to Riggs what I did to Dale.
I just need him to let go. I focus on the current, willing it to spread out over me, effectively making me feel supercharged.
I’m not sure if it will work, but I don’t want to hit him with a direct current and accidentally stop his heart.
As my head pounds and my lungs burn, I start to feel the crackle of my skin against his, like static, pulsing against him, making his hair stand on end.
Feeling darkness encroaching around the edge of my vision, I increase the output, and when he pulls back, startled, I suck in a painful breath.
I cough and struggle to take in more, my eyes streaming as Riggs moves in once more, but this time he doesn’t press against my throat.
I hold still, focusing on my breathing as his hands move to my hips, holding me in place as he buries his face in my hair and takes a deep breath.
His body shudders so hard for a second, I’m worried his legs are going to buckle and take us both down.
Instead, he presses against me as if he’s trying to fuse us together.
My heart thunders in my chest now for a different reason.
Pain wars with desire as the feel of his heat seeps into my bones, the scent of him invades my senses, making me feel both weak and powerful.
His rough hands slip under the hem of my top, pausing at the bare skin of my waist as if waiting for some unseen signal. My brain is fraught with indecision, my body yearning for things it has no business wanting.
But still I don’t fight, I don’t resist when I feel his lips on my neck.
Tears prick my eyes as the war rumbles inside me, and I’m aware enough to know it’s not Riggs I’m fighting but myself.
So many years have passed since that fateful night.
I’ve healed in ways that only come with time and distance, and yet in many ways I’m very much that naive sixteen-year-old girl, trapped in an aging body that has more blemishes and scars than life experiences.
The imbalance is as much a mind fuck as anything else.
I feel desire, but I just don’t know what to do with it.
It takes me a long time to realize that Riggs has gone utterly still. As if caught in a trance of his own, he hasn’t moved an inch, trapped in the same sense of limbo as I am, the past and present playing a tug of war, threatening to tear us apart.
Lifting a shaky hand, I reach up and press it to the back of Riggs’ head, holding him to me in an embrace that makes me feel more like a participant than his pray.
I think about where he might be trapped and start to hum softly.
The words don’t matter, just the melody, something soft and soothing, something to beckon him home as I gently stroke my fingers over the nape of his neck, feeling more of his weight press into me as he relaxes even more.
After a while, I risk speaking, trying to gauge if he can hear me.
“Riggs?”
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t lash out either, so I take that as a win.
“Come on. Let’s get you back to bed.” I slide my hand down and slip it inside his much larger one, giving it a tug.
He’s slow, his movements almost resistant, like he’s moving through molasses, but he lets me lead him to the bedrooms. I’m not sure which room he chose, so I’m thankful when I find one of the doors ajar and a faint glow from a lamp pouring out.
I walk him inside and over to the bed. I maneuver him over to it before nudging him to sit down.
When he does, I slip off his boots and line them up next to his bed.
I don’t try to undress him, wondering where the heck he fell asleep in the first place, because I don’t think he usually went to bed fully clothed.
I reach for his face and cup his jaw, tipping his head back.
I run my fingers over his eyepatch, wondering if I should take it off, but that feels like a violation somehow, so instead I lean down and press a kiss to it, wishing I could use my magic to heal what haunts him, but life rarely works out that way.
“Lie down, Riggs,” I tell him softly. He sways, but I press my hands lightly to his shoulders and smile as he lets me guide him to lie flat.
I pull the blanket up over him and hesitate, not sure whether to leave or stay, but in the end, I decide it might be safer for both of us if I go.
I flip the light off, but the second it goes dark, a strangled noise escapes Riggs, so I hurry to flip it back on.
As soon as the light illuminates the room, he settles again.
“Sleep, Riggs. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I turn and leave with my palms damp and my heart in my throat.
Seems he wasn’t lying when he said he has demons. For someone who has such tight control over them in the light, it must feel like hell on earth when they take the reins the second night rolls in.