CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Elara
The wind blew, rattling the door again. It was enough to set me in motion. I threw some small pieces of wood in the stove to try to save what was left of the fire. The house groaned and whispered around me as I headed up to my aunt’s room. Good job, Ellie, it said.
I headed upstairs to change in to leggings and a cropped t-shirt to relax in, along with pillows and blankets. I snuck a peek out the window, hoping his truck would still be parked in the driveway. It wasn't.
All those looks he'd given me, those smiles that reached his eyes, that kiss in the hot springs certainly had convinced me there was more between us. Dez was a good actor, I'd give him that. I completely misread him. What did I expect from someone who had drunkenly kissed me while mistaking me for a magazine cover model with dark ruby hair and perfect skin?
My shoulders slumped. I felt the cold of the house creeping in to my bones. The previous night had been cold, but there was more snow and I hadn’t been there to try to heat the house. I dreaded sleeping upstairs. I didn't know how to work the stoves properly to direct heat where it needed to be. I’d had enough of a fight to get it lit and built up yesterday.
The house was so much work. How had Minnie ever managed? Had he helped her? Was that why they were so close? I had been there for two days, and it was already getting to me.
Every groan of the wood in the silence of the house took a spade full of dirt off a memory I had buried. I needed to busy myself with something since Mister Alaska officially wasn't interested.
I trudged down the steps. My arms full of blankets and pillows threatened to trip me on my way down the stairs. A picture of grace I was not. I spread my haul of soft squishy items in front of the couch, catching glimpses of the falling snow through the heavy curtains.
I reached for the diary I had stashed in the drawer of the end table. I shouldn't have been reading it. I really should have been trying to find the owner. But the woman intrigued me and gave me something else to focus on. I skipped around through the diary, reading full entries when key words intrigued me.
February 23- I asked him to stop hunting. I should have known better. It turned into a screaming match between the two of us. His brother had to separate us. Their father, James, threw me out with my son. Said he didn't want his children distracted by matters that didn't concern them. James didn't even care that it was his grandson I was leaving with.
The woman’s life had been so full of drama. The more I read, the more I was immersed in her history. Tomorrow, I would go look for her next of kin and hopefully not put my foot in my mouth by asking what had happened to her.
May 15 - Morgan approached me outside BTI last night. It had been nearly a year since I’d seen him. I didn't realize he had followed me to Cordova. He said he'd seen me around town with a baby boy. He’s insisting the child is his.
BTI? Was she referring to Broken Tusk Inn? Were any of the people still in town? As I paged through, there were huge chunks of time missing. Some of the entries, the ink had pooled as if the author had wept over the page.
All someone had left of this woman was the collection of words that I held in my hands. I wanted to weep for her and her family the further I read, but I couldn’t stop.
June 24 - Ray called today. Told me to come back despite what Michael had said. That my love was being reckless because of his grief, thinking that I had lied to him when we’d gotten together. Morgan showed up two weeks ago, running his mouth, trying to claim my son. If I ever regretted anything in my life, it was getting involved with that jerk. We went, but James ran us off the property, calling me a witch.
July 4 - Michael refused to see us. I don’t know what else to say to him. There isn’t much more even his brothers can do. Simon has even tried to talk to him, and I’m not his favorite person. Simon said they were on a hunt and Michael was being careless again. Nearly succumbed to a wolf. That worries me. I try to shut down the premonitions, but they keep coming back. Glass blue ice is all I see before things fade to black.
July 27 - The only option I have left is to talk to their father. James hates me more than Simon ever has. Says I’ve taken away the last link he had to his wife by having a child with Michael.
August 4 - Simon called this time and told me to be at the house tomorrow and bring our son with me. One last time. My heart can't take it. We’re going to Anchorage if he says no. I need to move on if he doesn't want his family. Morgan says he will pay for my school if I go away with him. I can't and won't do that.
A loud thud on the wooden porch yanked me from the world of the past. I berated myself for not bothering to lock the deadbolt or even the security chain after Dez left. I’d stormed up the stairs, only concerned with how he’d pissed me off.
Setting the diary on the end table, I wrapped a well-worn quilt around myself and went to check the porch. The last thing I needed was to go to bed and not be able to get out the door if I had to. I paused, holding my breath, trying to focus on any sound I could make out. I hoped that it wasn’t an animal that had made that sound. I wasn’t prepared to deal with a wild animal. All I heard was the crackling of the fire in the living room fireplace.
Pulling open the door, I expected falling snow. I expected the roof to have given way. Instead, I was greeted by Dez filling the door frame, his head bowed, hands resting on either side of the door frame for support. Snow dusted the shoulders of his canvas coat. I breathed out his name as I tried to corral my heart that threatened to thunder away.
He didn't respond.
His breath condensed with every puff before disappearing across the threshold. There was a dark patch of what looked like blood on the sleeve of his coat, a larger stain across his chest. I touched his cheek; there were dark spots in his beard and across his face. What had happened while he was gone?
He nuzzled the scuff on his cheek against my hand before place a kiss on my palm.
“What happened?”
“Deer,” he whispered without looking up at me. I felt the trembling in his muscles as I slipped my hand to the side of his neck, taking liberties that were not mine to take. “Tell me to leave, Ellie. Please.”
There he stood in front of me, asking to let him go.
“Why would you ask that?” My voice was sharp in the cold air.
“I'm—”
Whatever he was fighting, he wouldn't give voice to it. Words had power. I knew that. I took a deep breath. I didn't want him to leave, but as I watched him begin to shuffle his feet and fight himself, I realized I was close to losing him a second time.
How had he gotten under my skin so quickly? Fate be damned, I didn't want to send him away
“I'm not her.” I hoped those were the words he needed as I let my eyes roam over his sagging form.
His eyes found mine, that haunted look quick to recede. His hands were cold on my cheeks as he pulled me in for a kiss. My balance was lost and I stumbled over the threshold and in to his chest. I squealed when the slush immediately soaked through my socks.
With a strong arm wrapped around my waist, he carried me back over the threshold. The door slammed shut behind him with a well-placed kick. He set me on my feet, and I backed away a few steps to give him some space. I needed space myself to breathe as I watched him peel off his wet coat, tossing it to the floor behind him. I expected him to kick off his boots, but he only raked his eyes over me in my blanket cocoon before locking eyes with me. His breathing slowed and those chocolate eyes darkened.
I was being hunted. He was waiting for me to make the first move. My brain screamed run; be the rabbit, hide.
The seconds stretched on forever. I thought back to the bar fight. He'd made quick work out of four grown men, the only mark left on him was a bruise on his jaw that was now obscured by his dark beard.
I should have sent him away. He was dangerous. And he looked like he could eat me alive.
My stomach flipped as Dez reached for the edges of the quilt. He slowly pulled me toward him one stuttered step at a time as he stared me down.
“You really should tell me to leave.” His whispered words fell down to me like snow in the silence, those dark eyes of his burning from within. I bit my lip as I looked up at him. The closer I got to him, the more the heat rolled off him and the more I really believed what I told the bartender. He was bad for me. But that devilish look on his face made me want to do anything he asked.
The wind rattled the windows. The house went black. I jumped. He pulled me the last half step against his chest, the scent of pine, cedar, and dark spice drifting up to me. One of his cold hands was on my cheek, angling my face up to his moments before his lips were on mine. I tried to clutch at his shirt, but the quilt I was wrapped in stopped me.
I threw the quilt to the floor, my hands moving to desperately pull his flannel shirt free of his jeans. His other hand was on the small of my back, pressing me harder against him as he tried to devour me.
I found his belt and tried to undo the buckle. He chuckled against my lips as I failed in my frantic efforts. With one hand, he stilled my efforts and spun me, my back meeting with his chest, his knee between my legs to give me balance. He nuzzled his face against mine while his other hand cradled my chin, exposing the pale skin of my neck to him. Dez gently caught my ear with his teeth, and all my senses left me. I reached behind me to grab his thigh as I was lost in the moment. His scruffy beard teased me as he placed kisses along the side of my face, down my jaw, and down my neck while his other hand skimmed across my stomach. A finger trailed across my lips, and I didn’t stop myself from wrapping my tongue around it as I sucked it in to my mouth.
There was a tiny moan in my ear and the hard bulge against my ass grew harder, his hand dipping behind the waistband of my leggings.
His thumb traced the runaway pulse in my neck as his breath was hot across the side of my face. My knees threatened to buckle as his other hand slowly worked my leggings over my hips.
“Better than last night,” he breathed in my ear as his fingers played across my newly exposed skin.
I didn't bother to fight the sigh as his fingers finally found the magic spot. My body sagged against his as the pleasure rushed over me. I turned my face toward his, kissing whatever skin I could reach. A groan passed his lips, sliding across my skin as he felt how wet I was for him.
I clutched at his arm with one hand, encouraging his movements. I reached back and tangled my fingers in his short hair as he nipped at my skin, drawing a whimper from my lips. I was melted marshmallow under his touch. I let him play me. There was no denying my need for him as he forced me to the edge of the cliff with his touch.
My chest heaved hard as I settled back down from the high, his name still on my lips as he held me upright with his roaming hands. “Couch. We’re not done yet.”