9
Norah woke and rolled over to see Harley next to her. She smiled. When he hadn’t come out of the bedroom, she had assumed he was avoiding her and decided it was probably best for her to just wait for him to come to her.
She could still imagine the way his mouth had felt on hers, hard and passionate. Damn, it had felt so good to be kissed as if she were the only woman in the world.
She could have gone in the bedroom, could have faced him and pushed for more. She probably should have, as she was going to be kicking herself if she never got another opportunity. The fear of being turned away was what kept her safely on the couch. She wasn’t sure she could have stood it if Harley refused her. If he made excuses as to why he wanted to take things slow.
The kissing had been hot and heavy with Clayton at first as well, but it hadn’t been long before the fire fizzed out on his end. She hadn’t realized it had on her end as well until last night. Still, she had never felt the way she did as when Harley’s mouth had been on hers.
She studied him. His hair was a tousled mess, and she reached out to touch it. It was softer than she had imagined. She wondered what it would feel like to bury her fingers in it while he did the things to her that she craved so badly.
The feelings she had for Harley weren’t bothering her anymore. He was a kind, handsome man who treated her gently. It was the lack of sadness she felt at Clayton’s death that had her feeling guilty. She didn’t know why she felt guilt; he surely wouldn’t have given a damn had it been her who had caught those bullets. He had tried to make that happen, so why should she feel bad that she survived?
She had respected him for what he had done for the charities she cared so much for, and now she was being told that all of that had been a lie. That in fact he had been a crooked thief and a murderer. She hoped all of those families could find peace now that he was dead. Hoped that she herself could.
She was stroking his hair when he woke up. He had felt it the moment she touched him, afraid to move because it felt so damn good to have her hand on him. He had dreamt of her soft curves and full lips all night, and he found himself aching for her now. If he reached for her, would she accept him?
He heard her sniffle, and it pulled him from his thoughts. Tears were streaming down her face, and his mind went on alert.
“What is it, Norah?” He sat abruptly and reached for her.
“All those people,” she cried. “Those poor people that he hurt, and I helped him.”
“Norah, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know what he was doing.”
“I sent people to him, Harley. People that I had met in the shelters or on the street who were having problems. How many of them are dead now or have lost their families because of me?”
“Norah, you didn’t know,” he repeated, and pulled her closer to him.
“How many, Harley?”
“How many what?” He knew what she wanted to know, he just didn’t want to tell her.
“Don’t play stupid with me. You know what I’m asking. How many lives did he take?”
He knew his answer would cause her pain. Knew that she would blame herself for each of those lives, even though the weight of it wasn’t hers to bear. He didn’t want to tell her, but he also couldn’t lie to her. Never to her.
“Clayton Matthews,” he said sternly, making sure he emphasized the bastard’s name, “and his organization were responsible for at least a hundred deaths or missing persons.”
“A hun-hundred?” Tears began to fall faster, and her eyes widened with shock and disbelief. “A hundred people lost their lives because of the man I was going to marry?” She felt her stomach lurch, and, afraid she was going to be sick, stood and ran for the bathroom.
The contents of her stomach emptied, and she cursed at herself for not seeing Clayton for who he was. Any guilt she had been feeling at not being more upset over his death was now gone. The only thing she wished was that she could go back and push him towards the bullets rather than him push her.
“Norah.” She heard Harley through the door and was grateful she had locked it.
“Go away, Harley, I’ll be out in a minute.”
“You have to know that it’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. He was the one who ran everything; you were a pawn in his game, that’s all.” He could have slapped himself the second he said it. “You know what I mean.”
Norah brushed her teeth and opened the door to see Harley standing on the other side.
“No, you’re right. I was a pawn. An easily manipulated little pawn, and I was used day in and day out for over two years. Makes you wonder the type of person I am, doesn’t it?”
Harley crossed his arms. “No, it doesn’t. I know what type of person you are Norah, and don’t think for one second I lump you in the same category as Matthews. You were tricked; he had probably targeted you from the very beginning because of your ties to the charities.” The second it came out of his mouth, he knew it was a mistake.
The pain was written all over her face as the realization that Matthews had probably never cared for her set in.
“Norah, I—”
She put her hand up and shook her head. “I get it, Harley. It was obvious to me that he didn’t give a shit when he tried to push me in front of those bullets. I don’t need your pity, and I certainly don’t want you to view me as a victim anymore. I stayed with him—even after everything he put me through, I stayed. It’s as much my fault he treated me that way as it was his.”
“That’s bullshit.” He ground his teeth together. “You deserved more, wanted more, and the only reason you stayed was because you didn’t want to risk him hurting others.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. You matter.”
“I can’t do this right now, Harley.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I need time to process everything, please.”
He knew better than to go after her. She wanted space, and that was fine; he could give her space. But not for long. He refused to let her blame herself for the actions of Clayton Matthews. His hands tightened into fists at his sides. He wanted to do something. Anything that would make him feel as if he were getting closer to catching the assholes who had turned their lives inside out.
Needing the distraction, Harley went about cleaning up so that if they needed to hide then it looked as if the cabin was unoccupied. He could do nothing about the perishables in the fridge, but he figured those could easily be explained by an owner wanting to come out to stay for a weekend.
After he was satisfied with the way everything looked, he made himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table to go over his notes again and add to them if necessary. He needed to start working on a plan, and quickly. The sooner they ended this, the better.
Harley worked for an hour before his mind started drifting. He thought about his mom in Texas. Maybe once all of this was over he could fly out to see her. Perhaps he would take Norah with him. He looked to the closed bedroom door and wondered what she would think about going to meet the woman who had raised him.
Shit, if they made it out of this alive, he would take the money he had saved and fly them all to a beach somewhere for a long vacation. But then his thoughts drifted to Norah in a two-piece, and he swallowed hard. Maybe just he and Norah could go somewhere together, then fly over and visit his mom afterwards.
Thinking of Norah had him standing and walking to the bedroom door. He knocked, and when no one answered, he pushed it open gently. She was curled up on the bed, her eyes closed, but she didn’t appear to be sleeping peacefully. He walked towards her and looked down at her face.
It was taut, as if she were having a nightmare. Her eyebrows were drawn together, and he watched as a single tear slipped down her soft cheek. It damn near broke his heart to see her that way.
Harley knelt beside the bed and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Norah,” he whispered.
Those beautiful chocolate eyes opened. They were swollen from crying, and when they met his there was something in them he hadn’t seen before, but he couldn’t decide just what it was.
“Is everything okay?”
She sat up and rubbed her hands over her face. “Yeah. I’m sorry I reacted that way, Harley.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” He cupped her face and gently pressed his lips to hers in a light kiss. “I just wanted to check on you. You looked like you weren’t sleeping very well.”
She stared at him. Her heart fluttered at the kind gesture. “Thanks.” She smiled. “So what are we going to do?”
“About what?”
“About our current predicament.”
“We are going to come up with a plan to bring them down.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“I know.” He met her eyes. “Look, Norah, you just found out something terrible, and I imagine you’re probably feeling vulnerable and confused after everything.”
“I am an adult, aren’t I?”
“Yes, but—”
“Clayton was an asshole. I had known that since six months into our relationship.
Granted, I didn’t learn he was a murdering asshole until recently, but I’ve come to decide that it’s not my fault what he did. While I will carry some of the guilt, knowingly or not, I am going to do everything in my power to bring that bastard’s organization down and bury it six feet under, right along with his murdering ass. Sound good?”
Harley nodded slowly. Damn, she did something to him.
“Look, I get it, okay? Things are complicated for both of us. We don’t even know how long it’ll be before they find us. All I’m asking is that you think about it and figure out what you want. I will be doing the same.” She stood and left the room, leaving Harley feeling as if he had just been grounded.
TWO HOURS LATER Norah found herself pulling on a pair of yoga pants, a T-shirt and some tennis shoes. She had always loved to run, and hoped the gym Gerry had put together was equipped with a treadmill. She could use the exercise and the distraction.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Harley and his damn perfect mouth. That light kiss he had given her had done just about as much to stir up her heart as his passionate one had done for her body.
She pushed the door open and saw Harley in front of a punching bag. Well, there goes the chance to forget about him for a few minutes.
Sweat gleamed on his naked back, and his muscles were taut as he worked the bag. Her mouth watered as she stood and drank him in. He turned when she let out a sigh.
“Sorry, didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s okay.” She looked away and was grateful to see a treadmill against the far wall. “I was hoping there was a treadmill.” She smiled. “Can I hit it?”
“Sure.” He stepped aside and took his gloves off. They were fingerless and huge on her hands.
She took her stance, much like she had seen in movies, and then punched it. It barely moved, and she blushed.
“You hesitated at the last minute. You won’t hurt the bag, Norah. Hit it again.”
She threw her body weight into the punch and hit it harder. A smile spread across her face when the chain rattled.
“That felt good.”
Harley nodded and smiled. “Hit it again.”
She did, and the bag moved even more. It made her feel strong, and frankly, like a badass. She took the gloves off and handed them back to him. “Thanks.” She grinned widely and then headed for the treadmill.
“No problem. I’m going to head into the kitchen and see what I can throw together for dinner.” He didn’t possess the strength it was going to take to watch her run and not pull her onto the floor beneath him. Better to give her the time she needed to make sure this was what she wanted. Because once he got his hands on her, he had no intention of ever letting her go.
ONCE SHE WAS sure he was gone, Norah picked the gloves back up and slipped them on her hands. She had only been in one fight growing up, and after all the times Clayton had pushed her around, she wasn’t sure she was still capable of sticking up for herself. She wanted to find out.
She took the same stance she had before and took her time throwing punches at the bag. She focused on mimicking the stances of people she had seen on TV, and smiled widely when the bag moved more than it had before. Maybe she could talk Harley into teaching her how to box. Then if someone came after her, she might be able to protect herself. She was damn tired of being the damsel in distress.