“What do you mean you’re not coming?” April hissed into the phone, as she paced the front hall of the biker safe house. The silence inside had made her skin crawl the second she stepped into it almost an hour ago, and she’d turned on every single light possible to make herself feel a little safer—as if lights would scare away anyone who wanted to hurt her.
Although it hadn’t been easy, she’d managed to slip out from James’s curious stare when Thanksgiving dinner came to an end. Grabbing her stowaway bag, which had been packed the night before in preparation for the big day, April had snuck out of the Palmer estate and made a run for it—straight to her mom’s car, which she borrowed for the time being. If either of them were to ask, she planned to tell them there was an old high school dinner being held at a friend’s place, and she got too drunk on wine to drive home.
In retrospect, she probably shouldn’t have been driving at all. She’d had more than her fair share of wine during the meal, but it seemed all the food she’d ingested—along with the frigid November air—had sobered her up enough to follow directions. The safe house was a good half hour away from Cascade Falls, still technically within the town limits, but off in the woods where people built cottages and lake houses, all of them abandoned until summer rolled back in again. Smart investors bought up the land as fast as they could to make use of it during the small tourist rush in July and August.
When she’d arrived, she noted that the house where they’d hide Van looked just as Mike had described it—two stories, exposed brick, and wooden beams. Following the information Mike texted her earlier that day, April had to go into the cobweb-littered basement to turn on the heat and electricity, which, outside of the way she sometimes felt James’s eyes roaming her body, was the low-point of the afternoon.
“I just can’t get away,” Mike insisted. Apparently his kids had shown up as a surprise that afternoon with cars full of food, demanding that they have a family Thanksgiving back in their old childhood home. Mike was supposed to meet April at the safe house, and instead she was there alone, listening to the sound of people chattering and laughing through her phone. Occasionally there’d be some kids screaming, which grated on her already sensitive nerves.
“But—“
“Look, it’s you Van will want to see anyway,” he told her. “Rabbit texted me earlier to say things were going smoothly, so you don’t even need me, really.”
She bit her lower lip, her stomach churning a few times over at the thought of seeing Van again. Sure, the plan had always been for the two to reunite: she was desperate to tell someone all the awful things James had threatened her with, and Van seemed like the right person to finally open up to. After all, she had a sinking suspicion that James was the reason Van was in prison in the first place—it only seemed fair that he get the whole story.
But she hadn’t seen him since August, and back then she was breaking his heart at a county jail. A part of her wanted a buffer between them the first time they saw each other again, and since she’d grown comfortable around Mike, April had wanted it to be him. However, it seemed like she was about to face this hurdle on her own—and she wasn’t sure she could do it.
“Maybe I should go,” she said, her pace quickening, as she stalked up and down the hall. “I mean, maybe it will be kind of overwhelming for him to come out and be around other people.”
“I can guarantee you he will want to be around familiar faces,” Mike told her, and she swore she heard a hint of a smile in his tone. “Look, don’t be nervous. He begged me to find you. He said you were the one hope he had, and just watching you talk about him… Well, April, it made me realize that helping him really was the right thing to do.”
She tried to swallow the lump of raw emotion that had suddenly gathered in her throat, but failed. “Really?”
“Yup.” In the background, voices called for Mike to get back to dinner. “Look, I gotta go. More stuffing to eat, I guess.”
“Must be nice.”
“You bring any food for Van?”
“Whatever I could find and hide yesterday,” she said lamely, only just realizing how disappointed Van would be that there wasn’t a Thanksgiving feast waiting for him. It was a day of overabundance; there was no reason why she couldn’t have filled up a few containers of leftovers and brought them.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll be happy he isn’t eating whatever garbage they serve on the inside anymore,” Mike remarked, and April had a suspicion that he was trying to make her feel better about being a terrible post-prison hostess. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
“But I know you won’t,” he added, “need me, that is.”
“Well—“
“Just enjoy the moment,” he said, and before she could argue the point any further, Mike had hung up. Silence crept back over her, and without giving it much thought, April wandered into the small kitchen and turned on the radio. Over the years, the men who made use of the cabin had spruced it up and paid for repairs. Most of the furniture was new. Everything was remarkably clean—a welcome surprise, given how infrequently it was used during the winter. Surrounded by thick trees and backing down onto the lake, it was tucked away from the rest of civilization. In a way, the silence was almost peaceful.
The peace was shattered, however, at the roar of an engine. Not a bike—it didn’t sound like one, anyway. April hurried out of the kitchen, hastily making her way to the front room that overlooked the long driveway that wound through the trees. Sure enough, just like Rabbit had planned, a delivery truck was making its way toward the house. It was too dark to make out the driver, but April could only see one person in the front seat. Her heart sank: Mike had said Rabbit told him things were going fine, so why couldn’t she see Van anywhere?
A horrible feeling gripped her, as she stared out the window: what if James had found out about their plan and intercepted things on the way? Mike assured her James had only heard rumors about this particular cabin, but she doubted a man as powerful and well-connected to the underground world as James Palmer wouldn’t know that his own club members had bought and built a secret cabin for weekend retreats.
Even with her concerns, April pushed away from the window and hurried to the front door. Her feet had taken on a mind of their own again, and she had to force herself back inside to throw on her boots and coat before she went out to meet the truck. For a final measure, she flipped the switch to turn on the porch lights, then stood there, waiting, as the truck finally slowed and stopped by the front steps. Once the headlights were off, her arm dropped, no longer needed to shield her face, and she gave a nervous smile when she saw Rabbit behind the wheel.
Gruff as ever, the man barely returned the expression, instead climbing out and stretching. He seemed to be wearing some kind of uniform, which she assumed went along with the ruse of delivering the food for Thanksgiving dinner. Arms wrapped around herself, she hurried down the few steps and looked in the cab portion of the truck, frowning when she saw it was empty.
“Did you get him?” she asked, her heart hammering so loudly in her chest that she was sure the folks back in Cascade Falls could hear it. Rabbit nodded, and when he said nothing in response to it, she raised her eyebrows and gestured to the front seats. “And? Where is he?”
Rabbit produced a cigarette out of nowhere—though it might have been behind his ear—and struck a match off the side of the truck, lighting it and taking a few drags. April waited, her hands in fists, her teeth threatening to chatter in the night air. Finally, he gestured to the cargo end of the large delivery truck.
“In the back.”
“What?!” she exploded, her cheeks reddening, as his eyes narrowed at her. “He’s in the back?! It’s freezing out here!”
Probably just as cold inside. Not bothering to wait and hear his excuse, she hurried around to the back and started undoing the latches, though she needed Rabbit’s key to get the final lock off.
“Not like I was going to drive by all the roadside cameras with an escaped felon sitting beside me,” he grumbled, and April scoffed, her arms crossed.
“He could have worn a hat or something.”
“I’ll keep that under advisement,” Rabbit said with a grunt, finally opening the lock and taking it off. She stepped back as the door rose noisily, waiting, her breath catching in her throat.
For a few long seconds, all she saw were boxes and storage bins. A frantic look to Rabbit saw him totally unfazed, still puffing away at his cigarette. Just as she took a step toward the dark container, a shadowy figure emerged from behind one of the green storage boxes. Tall and broad, he clambered forward, and April let out a soft gasp when she finally saw Van Palmer again. Looking more than a little worse for the wear, it was almost too obvious to her that he’d lost weight, though the gravity of his appearance didn’t hit until he was out of the truck and standing in the porch light.
There was a sunken quality to his cheeks that there hadn’t been before, and she tried not to focus on the dark hue around his eyes. Clearly, he’d been having a rough time, and she almost felt guilty that it had taken her this long to realize that he didn’t belong behind bars. Well, no, she knew that all along, but it had taken her too many months to grow a backbone and do something about it.
His eyes darted to Rabbit for a split-second, then honed in on her—and there they stayed. Swallowing thickly, she debated hanging back until he came to her, but that plan lasted about two seconds. Before she could stop herself, April rushed forward and threw her arms around his neck, dragging him into a hug whether he wanted one or not. Her body pressed against his, and it lacked the width it once had. Without meaning to, her hand wandered up his back and buried in his hair, fisting around its thickness like that was where it always belonged.
Van didn’t hug her back right away, but she could feel the way his body trembled, as she held him. Finally, his face sunk into the crux of her neck and shoulder, and his arms encircled her waist, dragging her even closer. His name slipped through her slightly parted lips, nothing more than a whisper, and her eyes suddenly prickled with unexpected tears. It felt so good to hold him again, to be held by him again. The cold didn’t bother her anymore—she barely felt it—and for a fleeting few moments, April couldn’t imagine ever letting him go.
But she did, of course. It was what was best for both of them. They gave one another a few inches of breathing space, but when her head tilted back, it took every ounce of restraint in her being not to push up on her toes and kiss him. His lips were practically begging to be kissed, and while he seemed tired, a hunger blazed in his eyes that made her shiver.
Her eyes widened a little when he went in for the kiss instead, but she turned away at the last moment. This was his first moment of freedom, and there was a lot Van needed to do in the coming weeks to ensure he never went back to prison again. There was no need to muddy the waters by hopping back into the confusing state of affairs that was their relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to him—to either of them—and so, as much as it pained her, April turned away and stepped around him.
“Let me get you something to… to put on,” she muttered, as she made a hasty retreat to the porch. Van said nothing as she went, and when she glanced back, April spotted him speaking with Rabbit. Their breaths fogged out between them, and their hushed tones made it impossible for her to eavesdrop. Shaking her head, she hurried inside and grabbed the thick blanket off the couch in the living room. Sitting in the back of that truck had probably chilled him to the bone, and once he was through with Rabbit, she planned to get some food into him, then put him in a hot shower.
He could probably do with both. Hell, if she’d been locked behind bars for almost four months, she would be desperate for both—among other things.
And judging by the look in his eye when she set the blanket across his shoulders, Van was hungry for other things, too.
***
There were a lot of things in life that you didn’t realize just how much you loved until they were gone. Showers, for instance. Private showers. With actual opaque curtains and a legitimately clean floor. Van could have stood in there forever, his body slowly thawing from the outside in as a steady stream of near scalding water pummeled him. With two cans of beans in his stomach, along with a few slices of buttered toast, he was pretty damn happy in that moment. Stressed, sure. Who wouldn’t be after breaking out of jail with the help of a sketchy biker pal? But the quiet solitude here in the cabin, surrounded by woods on one side and the lake on the other, was exactly what he needed to start to feel normal again.
Well, not normal. Seeing April again didn’t make him feel normal—far from it. He felt queasy seeing her, his palm sweaty and his knees weak. It was like falling in love with her all over again, only before he’d done it gradually, over the course of a few months like a normal romance. This was different. The feelings had always been there while he was locked away, but he’d pushed them deep down; they didn’t do him any good where he was anyway. But as soon as he saw her standing there, wrapped up in a puffy jacket, her cheeks red from the cold, all those feelings surged back to the surface again, nearly knocking him off his feet.
If she hadn’t caught him, he would have fallen.
It made sense that she was unsure around him. He’d just escaped from behind bars, after all. He was a felon, an escaped one at that, and he’d dragged her into this. April could have stayed away easily and not gotten her hands dirty, and yet she returned to Cascade Falls to see the plan through. On their brief pit stop at a gas station, where Van was given a bag of chips and a soda, Rabbit had told him that it was April’s persistence that made the plan to spring him loose really come together. She’d been passionate about ensuring his freedom: he could hear it in her voice, apparently. See it in her eyes.
Just knowing that…made everything worth it. April had fought for him, just like he knew she would, and he wouldn’t—couldn’t—ask for anything more from her. She’d given him a lot just by coming back to Cascade Falls, just by being there when Rabbit opened up the back of the delivery truck.
It would be tough as hell, but Van could give her space if she needed it. They were technically broken up anyway, and for all he knew, she could have found a new guy over the last few months, and only really came back because she felt sorry for him. It wasn’t like they kept up a steady correspondence or anything.
All he wanted to do was press his lips to hers and swallow her whole. He wanted to consume her, to breathe her in. Throw her on the plush king-sized bed. Fuck her as she clawed at his back and screamed in pleasure. However, he had to restrain himself—that much he knew. They hadn’t talked about much while she prepared the light meal for him, and he didn’t want to push her away by coming on too strong. He could be her friend. Technically, after all, they were family now. If she didn’t want him back, he’d have to learn to keep his desires sedated whenever they were around each other.
Maybe he should have taken a cold shower instead of a hot one.
Nah. Too many cold showers over the last few months—he’d earned a hot one.
It wasn’t until his fingers started to prune that Van finally decided it was time to get out. Begrudgingly, he turned off the water and grabbed the towel hanging on the nearby rack, then he rubbed himself down quickly. A glance in the mirror showed him exactly what he’d been seeing for months—though out of the prison’s harsh lighting, he didn’t look quite as sickly. It must have been a shock for April to see him like this: he’d gone from peak physical fitness when she’d last seen him to… this. Slim but not skinny, his body had devoured a lot of his muscle, and it would take time to get back to where he wanted to be.
Sighing, he brushed his teeth with the borrowed brush and paste he found under the sink, all wrapped and waiting like they were there just for him. Towel around his waist, Van strolled back into the master bedroom, which was the only bedroom in the cabin connected to a bathroom. On a good day, the cabin could hold about fifteen people, with the top floor full of tiny bedrooms and single beds—and then the master suite, which Van assumed everyone fought over when groups came up here to stay the weekend.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he found April sitting on the bed. Her legs dangled over the edge, wrapped in a tight pair of dark jeans, looking long and gorgeous. She’d probably come straight from the Thanksgiving feast at his dad’s place; his stomach gurgled at the thought, a little bitter about missing out on a plate of turkey and gravy. Still, he was just happy not to be eating prison food anymore. His eyes wandered upward quickly, hoping that he wouldn’t look like a total creep, as he took in the way her white sweater hugged her waist and clung to her breasts. A gold chain hung around her neck, though it was delicate and dainty, like it would snap if he so much as plucked at it.
When his eyes met hers, he immediately realized he wasn’t the only one enjoying the view. She blushed a dark crimson when she was caught ogling him, her gaze wandering down his body before quickly darting back to his face.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she told him, as he sauntered toward the bed. Good God was she ever beautiful. Stunning, especially in the soft lighting from the nearby bedside lamp. April sat up a little straighter the nearer he drew. “I figured I’d… sleep in one of the other bedrooms.”
“You can have this bed,” he offered. After all, he was used to sleeping on a tiny, hard board; any bed, big or small, would be a luxury. She shook her head, her strawberry-blonde hair fluttering around her face, framing it. He wanted to cup her cheeks and drag her into a kiss—his hands balled into fists instead.
“No, this bed is definitely the comfiest,” she insisted, as she stood, her arms crossed over her chest. “Seriously, I’ve tested all the other ones while I was waiting… This… You deserve this one.”
Shooting him a small smile, she turned and was just about to make her way out—until Van grabbed her arm. It wasn’t a harsh grab, but he held her firmly enough to keep her from leaving. In that moment, he couldn’t stand to see her go. Forget what he’d said before about giving her time and space. The tension between them was electric: it lit up the room with no more than a few short words. April let out a soft breath, facing him with a raised eyebrow.
“Van…”
“We don’t have to talk,” he whispered heatedly. “We should, but we can do it some other time. Tomorrow. After. Doesn’t matter when.”
She licked her lips before biting down on her plump lower lip, and that all but sealed the deal. Throwing caution to the wind, he dipped his head down and kissed her. Softly at first, not wanting to scare her, but before long, it was hard to restrain the passion. She’d been out of his arms for too long. How many dreams had he had with the two of them together again? How often had he woken up with a frustrating half-hard cock after she’d danced across his mind while he slept? Van had missed her—desperately, more than he would ever admit to anyone—and he wasn’t about to let her walk away now.
It took her a few moments to respond, her body stiff in his arms, her lips unmoving. But then, at the blink of an eye, her soft body melded against his, her hands sliding up his chest to thread through his thick hair. A soft moan escaped her when he deepened the kiss, their tongues sliding over one another’s without a hint of tentativeness. It became apparent in that moment, as she arched against him, her body rubbing over his steadily hardening dick, that it wasn’t just him who’d missed her. April had missed him too; she didn’t need to say it aloud for him to know. Everything she needed to say was said in her kiss.
He wouldn’t be able to last long tonight, but in their frenzied movements, neither seemed to mind. Soon enough, his towel was tossed on the ground, and he let out a hiss when her hands wrapped around his solid length. Pumping up and down, April moved with careful precision, as if they’d done this exact same thing last night—like it was their usual routine. The thought made his chest tight: Van wanted it to be their usual routine. He wanted to wake up each morning and look at her, to see her smile and laugh. Hell, he’d even take her bad moods, too.
All he wanted was April.
Unable to hold back for much longer, Van sloppily freed her of her clothes, their naked bodies soon falling onto the bed, limbs entwined and mouths pressed together in desperate need. She didn’t hold back tonight, didn’t keep her sounds to herself. Each moan made his cock twitch. Each heady sigh made his heart hurt.
Sliding a hand between her thighs, he found her hot and ready for him, but he couldn’t help himself: making her come with nothing more than a pair of fingers had always given him a bit of a thrill—and a deep-seated sense of pride. Her back arched, as he thrust his fingers between her slick folds, pumping in and out as they lay side-by-side, finding that spot along her inner walls that always made her writhe.
Van wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t last long tonight. In a matter of minutes, she was crying out, her skin flushing in that familiar way it always did whenever she’d reached her climax. Van smothered her cries with a kiss, rubbing her clit to prolong the pleasure. When her breath started to slow, he settled between her thighs and pushed into her, meeting no resistance, sliding right into her slick, tight channel until their bodies collided.
April whimpered his name, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers drawing little shapes on his back. He took her slowly at first, enjoying the feel of her body wrapped around him again, but it proved to be incredibly difficult to continue on like that for long. Before he was even aware of it, he was slamming into her over and over again. It had been too long since he’d felt her, since he’d buried himself deep inside of her. Van wanted to consume her, to make her his all over again, and with the way she clung to him, he couldn’t help but wonder if she felt the same.
Her second climax was less of an affair, clearly smaller and not as powerful as the first, but the look in her eyes touched him somewhere deeper. Groaning, he clenched his eyes shut and buried his face in the crux of her neck and shoulder, his pace stuttering out of control until he finally spilled himself into her. He slumped down onto her as he saw stars, all of his muscles like liquid for a few short moments, as pleasure pulsated through him. Finally, as if only then remembering where he was and who he was crushing, he rolled off her, chest rising and falling steadily, as his breathing slowly returned to normal.
They stayed next to one another in silence for a long while afterwards, a comfortable silence blanketing them. Outside, the snow had started falling again, thick, fluffy flakes painting a nearby window.
“I know you just had a shower,” she said finally, her voice soft and a little cautious, “but how do you feel about grabbing another one?”
As difficult as it was, Van was careful not to let his smile grow too big as he nodded. “Probably a good idea.”
Shifting off the bed, April held out her hand to him, waiting, and without a second of hesitation, Van grabbed it. Their fingers threaded around one another’s, and it felt right to have her smaller hand in his palm again—that was where it belonged.
And this was where he belonged. By April’s side. With her, all his worries fell away. He didn’t think about the fact that on this Thanksgiving, he’d become an escaped convict, or that someone out there was trying to beat him senseless. He just thought about her. He lost himself in her. Over and over again. Well into the morning.
All the while knowing that first light would change things, and even as they fell asleep, warm and nestled against one another, Van couldn’t be sure if the change would be for the better.