CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Brrring. Brrring.
I was so wrapped up in Wisp – her cloying scent filling my nose, the taste of her skin making me drunk – that it took me a few seconds to recognize the noise for what it was.
The phone was ringing.
It did nothing at all to curb my desire – the need pulsing through my dick. The urge to touchtastetake was almost primal, and my first instinct was to simply ignore the shrill ringing.
Brrring. Brrring.
Except…
Very few people had the number to my cabin, none of whom would call unless there was some sort of emergency.
But could anything be as urgent as my need to yank down Wisp’s shorts, her panties, and fucking fill her? With my tongue, my dick, I didn’t care. I was just desperate to have some part of me inside her.
In the end, though, Wisp made the decision for me. “You… you should probably get that,” she said, her voice little more than a wobbly whisper.
I swallowed the urge to argue, offering Wisp a jerky nod instead. After forcing myself to release her, I pushed myself off the couch, adjusting myself in my pants before heading to the kitchen, where the phone was located, and snatching the receiver off its hook mid-ring.
“What?” I demanded gruffly, not bothering to hide my irritation with whoever it was on the other end of the line.
There was a pause.
“Derek?”
I felt a twinge of surprise when I recognized the voice. I frowned. “Gemma?”
A relieved sigh. “Thank God,” she muttered, the words barely audible. Then, more loudly, she added, “Derek, you need to come down to the bar.”
I furrowed my brow. “The Tavern? Why?”
“I… It’s just…” she floundered. “I need to show you something.”
I felt annoyance creep up my spine at the purposely vague answer. It was unlike Gemma to be so deliberately mysterious. “Look, Gemma, no offense, but I’m a little busy at the moment.”
I snuck a glance at Wisp, who was still sitting on the couch, but already pulling her shirt back on over her head. I mourned the loss of her bare skin.
“Derek,” Gemma snapped, her sharp tone forcing me to refocus my attention. “You know I wouldn’t call unless it was important.”
If nothing else, I had to admit to being thrown by the woman’s continuous use of my given name instead of the plethora of nicknames she preferred to torment me with. Something was obviously bothering her.
If it had been anyone else, I probably wouldn’t have cared.
But Gemma… she was one of the few people in Pine Ridge who actually gave a shit about me. She’d only been a few years older than me when the fire happened, but she had never looked at me like all the other people in the godforsaken town: half-accusing, half-pitying.
I dragged a hand roughly down my face before releasing a sigh. “Fine, just let me get Wisp-”
“No!”
I stiffened, taken off guard by the intensity of her reaction. “No?” I repeated.
“It’s just… I think you’d better come alone. Trust me.”
Instinctively, I wanted to demand why. I felt my hackles rising and fought the urge to defend Wisp against some imagined slight. Except… that didn’t make any sense. Because it had sure seemed like Gemma liked Wisp when I had dragged her to The Tavern half a week earlier.
But then why didn’t Gemma want me to bring her with?
Maybe it really was some sort of emergency. Or maybe whatever she had to tell me – show me – was about Wisp.
Countless scenarios ran through my mind, the most prominent of which involved someone coming by the bar and asking about Wisp – if anyone had seen someone matching her description. My fingers tightened around the phone as I pictured that “someone” with yellow hair and gray eyes.
“I’ll be there in fifteen.”
I could almost feel Gemma’s relief through the phone; she didn’t even question my sudden amicability. “I’ll be waiting.”
Then she hung up the phone.
I returned the receiver to its cradle, making my way back to the living room where Wisp was looking at me expectantly, face still flushed from earlier.
“That was Gemma,” I explained stiffly as I headed towards the entryway to grab the keys to my truck. “She needs me at The Tavern.”
Wisp blinked. “Right now?”
I nodded, refusing to look at her. “She was pretty insistent.”
Wisp shrugged, standing. “Okay, let me get my shoes-”
“Don’t!”
Wisp startled at my abrupt exclamation. She frowned. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t bother with your shoes,” I clarified, racking my brain for a plausible explanation why I had to leave her behind. “Gemma… she wants me to refurbish the tables I promised I’d help her with a while ago. It could take a few hours, and there’s not much to do at The Tavern. I don’t want you getting bored.”
It was a flimsy excuse at best, and judging by the way her nose crinkled, Wisp knew it, too. She opened her mouth, looking for a second that she might call me out on it, but a moment later, she snapped it shut. Her gaze drifted to the floor, and she shrugged. “Okay, I guess. If… if that’s what you want.”
What I wanted was to finish what we were doing earlier. I wanted to bury my face between her legs and…
I swallowed.
It didn’t matter what I wanted, not if there was a possibility that someone was out there looking for Wisp. I hated the thought of leaving her alone, but I reminded myself that she wasn’t completely unprotected. There was Thane. And my rifle.
With that thought in mind, I ran out to the yard to collect my gun. I turned on the safety before going back inside to prop it up next to the door.
“Wisp-” I started to say, but I stopped short when I turned to face her and saw how upset she looked. There were stress lines around her eyes, and she was chewing viciously on her bottom lip, gnawing at it, even.
In that second, I understood how… this looked to her. Disappearing after what we’d done, what we’d almost done. She probably thought I was running away – rejecting her – again.
I had no idea how to prove to her that wasn’t the case, but I knew I had to try.
I approached her, carefully cupping her chin and using my thumb to pluck her bottom lip out of her mouth. Her eyes flitted up to mine in surprise. “Stop that before you hurt yourself,” I scolded gently. Then I pressed a kiss to her mouth.
Guilt nagged me at the way she stiffened in shock. The feeling all but dissipated a moment later, though, when she leaned into the kiss, her lips warmly welcoming mine.
When I was forced to pull away a few seconds later, I tucked a stray piece of dark hair behind her ear. “The gun is by the door,” I said, when her eyes met mine. Injecting as much sternness into my voice as I could, I added, “Don’t hesitate to use it.”
Wisp huffed, an amused sound. “Yes, I’ll be sure to ward off the endless stream of visitors you get out here.”
“I’m serious, Wisp,” I snapped, immediately feeling sorry when the tiny smile she was wearing slipped off her face. “Just… be careful.”
What I meant was: I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.
Almost like she knew, Wisp’s entire countenance softened. I took advantage of it by pressing another quick kiss to her forehead, before, without another word, I strode out the door.
I was half-way in my truck, one foot in the vehicle and the other on the gravel driveway, when I heard her call out to me. “Derek!”
I paused, glancing at the open doorway of the cabin where Wisp stood, hands clasped in front of her in an almost… bashful stance.
“What?” I asked.
She licked her lips before offering me a tentative smile. “Just in case I’ve never said it… I’m really glad it was you who found me.”
Christ.
Wisp’s scent wasn’t the only thing about her that was as sweet as honey.
An unfamiliar emotion welled in my throat, and I quickly worked to swallow it down, but the truth was out of my mouth before I could even think to stop it. “You found me, Wisp.”
Before either of us could think too hard about what that meant, I pulled myself the rest of the way into my truck, shutting the door behind me before jamming the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life beneath me, and a short while later, I was driving down the driveway.
Trying to put thoughts of Wisp and honey and ridiculous, cryptic statements out of my mind, I replayed the conversation I’d had with Gemma in my head as I navigated the road. Turning onto the highway, I scrutinized her words, searching for clues.
She’d said she wanted to show me something.
But what? If someone had come by looking for Wisp, was it possible they’d been handing out pictures? Or maybe I was wrong, and whatever Gemma needed me for had nothing at all to do with the girl I’d left behind at my cabin.
I hoped that was the case, but it did little to explain why Gemma wouldn’t want me to bring Wisp along.
Thankfully, I didn’t have much time left to wonder because a few minutes later, The Tavern was in sight, and I was pulling into its gravel parking lot. It was a Tuesday afternoon, so there weren’t any other cars in the lot besides Gemma and Liam’s violet Chevy Cruse.
I didn’t bother locking my truck before approaching The Tavern’s signature blue door. Despite the sign hanging in the window that declared the bar “closed”, I pushed it open and boldly entered the establishment.
After all, I’d been invited.
Liam was sitting at the bar when I walked in, his cell phone and a short glass half-full of something dark – probably whiskey – in front of him.
He looked up when I entered, nodding his greeting before calling for his wife. “Gemma! Derek’s here.”
Liam was the opposite of Gemma in a lot of ways: tall and lanky with a cowboy hat almost always covering his head of dark blond hair. He was also quiet for someone who owned a bar. He kept to himself for the most part, and he had impeccable manners – at least until anyone decided to start harassing his wife.
Gemma may have been the face of The Tavern, but Liam was the backbone.
For the most part, we got along fine.
“Hey,” I said, unceremoniously pulling out the stool next to him and taking a seat. “You have any idea what all this is about?”
Liam opened his mouth to answer, but before he could get a word in, Gemma bustled into the room, abandoning whatever she’d been doing in the kitchen to join us.
“Derek!” she said, somehow sounding both surprised and relieved. “You came.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “I said that I would. Now, do you mind telling me what the hell is going on? I left Wisp all alone to come down here.”
Gemma and Liam glanced at each other when Wisp’s name left my mouth, like they were telepathically communicating some sort of message, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
“Well?” I demanded when no one answered.
Gemma sighed, finally tearing her eyes away from Liam’s to meet mine. “Exactly how much do you know about Wisp, Derek?” she asked carefully.
I stiffened at the question, anger born of a protective streak a mile wide causing me to grip the bar top in front of me until my knuckles were white. “What the hell kind of question is that?”
“Hey, now, calm down-” Liam said, putting a placating hand on my shoulder.
“Fuck off!” I snapped, shaking the hand off me. “I came here because Gemma said she had something to show me.” I turned my attention back to the wide-eyed woman. “Is that even true, or did you just call me over here for this interrogation bullshit?”
The pair gaped at me.
“Because if that’s the case,” I continued before either could even think to respond, “I’m out of he-”
“No!” Gemma shouted, grabbing my wrist when I made a move to rise from the stool.
She quickly released me when I glared. Then she huffed, running an anxious hand through her hair. “Jesus, sweetie, I didn’t mean anything by it. I like Wisp,” she said, confirming what I already suspected to be true. “It’s just…” she trailed off with a sigh. “I think I’d better just show you.”
Gemma disappeared behind the kitchen door, and Liam and I waited in an edgy silence for her to come back. I could tell he was irritated with me for snapping at his wife, but I didn’t care. I’d been there for five minutes, and already I was fed up with their inability to get to the fucking point.
Gemma returned a few seconds later with a newspaper clutched in her hands. She approached the bar top, holding it out for me. “Here.”
Something inside me cautioned me not to take it. Intuition or some kind of self-defense mechanism, I don't know, but in that moment, the slightly crumpled newsprint seemed more like a ticking time bomb than a simple news article.
The thing about bombs, though, were that they were programmed to go off whether you knew about them or not, so after only a brief hesitation, I reached out to take it.
I glanced down, my eyes immediately attracted to the title, black and bold at the top of the page that Gemma had the newspaper opened to.
MISSING: SENATOR’S DAUGHTER
Beneath the headline was a photo of an aging man with hair so gray it was almost white. Despite the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, he appeared robust for a man pushing retirement age. He wasn’t what caught my attention, though. Because beside him… stood Wisp.
Her shoulders were slumped inward, almost like she was trying to make herself appear as small as possible, and her expression was all wrong – her eyes had a far-off look to them and were gazing slightly off camera, her mouth set in a somber, little frown – but it was definitely her. A slightly younger, sadder version, but still her.
I forced myself to tear my gaze away from the familiar (yet different) girl’s face and skimmed the first sentence of the accompanying article…
Washington Senator Cornelius Radcliff, currently serving his fourth term on the United States Senate, pleads for the public’s help in locating his eighteen-year-old daughter, Sloane Radcliff.
… before ripping my eyes away, unable to read anymore.
Something akin to panic was unfurling in my chest, and a gravelly voice in my head – his voice – was snarling a continuous loop of no, wrong, and MINE.
But I refused to let any of it show when I finally glanced up at Gemma, who was watching me intently for a reaction.
She’d clearly recognized the girl in the picture as easily as I had.
“Please tell me you don’t have anything to do with this,” she pleaded when I met her eyes.
I felt a muscle in my jaw twitch, anger fast joining the other emotions brewing like a fucking storm in my chest. I didn't know what exactly Gemma was accusing me of. Kidnapping Wisp? Holding her against her will? Whatever it was, it pissed me off.
I grit my teeth, holding up the newspaper. “Where did you get this?” I asked instead of answering her asinine question.
It didn’t make any sense – the sudden appearance of this article. Wisp and I had prowled the Internet for reports of missing persons back when I’d first found her.
But that was weeks ago, a snide voice pointed out. You didn’t bother doing much searching after that, did you?
Gemma and Liam shared another glance before Gemma returned my stare. “Liam went to Seattle to pick up a shipment of booze yesterday,” she explained. “He brought this back with him. Apparently, it’s pretty big news.”
I nodded, keeping my expression carefully blank as I set the paper down and slid it across the bar top back to Gemma. “Interesting, but I don’t see what it has to do with me.”
Gemma’s eyebrows rose incredulously. “Are you saying that this girl right here,” she said, pointing to the picture, “this Sloane-”
My hands balled up into fists, blunt fingernails digging into my palms.
Her name wasn’t Sloane. It was Wisp. Her name was fucking Wisp.
“-isn’t the same one you just claimed to have left alone at your cabin a few minutes ago?”
I fought to remain outwardly calm, but I could feel my façade slipping. “Yes,” I grit out between clenched teeth, “that is what I’m saying. Do you have a problem with that?
Liam shifted at my side. “Derek, think carefully about this,” he warned. “You could be in big trouble if you happen to be… mistaken.”
Gemma nodded. “Other people have seen her, sugar. Hell, Ash has seen her, and he’s a police officer. If he recognizes her-”
I slammed my fist down so hard on the bar top that Liam’s glass shook, liquor sloshing over its side. “It’s not her,” I repeated tersely, having effectively captured both of their attention. “That… that isn’t Wisp.”
All three of us knew it wasn’t true.
I could tell by the stiff way Liam held himself and the worry lines on Gemma’s brow that they didn’t believe me. But that wasn’t what was important. What was important was that they kept whatever they knew, or whatever they thought they knew, about Wisp to themselves.
After a tense moment, Gemma sighed. “Okay, Derek,” she agreed quietly. “Okay.”
I knew in that moment she’d never say anything. But relief didn’t come.
Because to my left, Liam was slowly shaking his head back and forth. The movement was miniscule, but it caused my already bunched muscles to tense further.
“Show him, Gemma,” he ordered grimly, handing his phone over to his wife.
For a second, Gemma looked like she wanted to argue, but a moment later, she nodded and took the phone with a grimace.
“Show me what?” I demanded, looking back and forth between them. “I already saw the article.”
“There’s more than one article,” Liam explained patiently, like he was talking to a child or someone who was mentally deficient instead of a thirty-two-year-old man who had taken care of himself for the better part of two decades.
It did nothing at all to appease my irritation.
But I didn’t have much time to dwell on my vexation because a second later, Gemma was holding Liam’s phone under my nose.
It was opened to the website of another news organization with another headline pulled up.
I could feel my insides twist with denial as I read the bolded words, a precursor to the devastation attempting to sprout in my chest.
I snatched the phone from Gemma, squeezing it so tightly that I almost had enough sentiment left in me to feel surprised that it didn’t crumble in my hands. But no matter how forcefully I clenched the phone, and no matter how many times I reread the words, they didn’t change.
And somewhere, deep inside me, the beast yowled.