Chapter 3
"HOW ARE YOU doing, Bryn?" Cash asked as he pulled out onto the road, leaving Drake standing on the edge of the woods. He hit the gas, the SUV leaping forward as they hurtled down the winding road. "Come up front."
His voice was exactly as Bryn remembered, so familiar, and yet, at the same time, so different. It was harder now. Colder. More dangerous. She still couldn't believe he'd pointed a gun at Drake. The boy she'd known would never have done that. She didn't move from her seat. "Where have you been for thirteen years?"
He met her gaze in the rearview mirror, and she saw a flash of pain in his eyes. It was gone almost immediately, replaced by an impenetrable wall that had never been there before. Then he shook his head. "How bad is your arm?" he asked, not answering her question.
"Bad, I think. The blade went deeper than I intended." What had she been thinking, slicing her arm open? The whole scene from the hotel was surreal, like a scene from a horror flick that had left a coating of filth on her. So much blood. The screams. She'd known those men who'd been assigned to protect her. "Did they all die? Are they dead, because of me?"
He glanced back at her again, and this time, his expression was softer. "Bryn," he said gently. "The men protecting you knew the risks. It's their job. It's their lifestyle. Nothing that happened to them is because of you. They do that every day. You can't blame yourself."
"Oh, God." Tears filled her eyes as she leaned back against the seat. "They're all dead, aren't they? All of them?" Suddenly, the horror of all that had happened overtook her. She started to shake, and she felt like she was going to throw up. She couldn't stop the tears that suddenly spilled out, and she bent over, fighting back the sobs struggling to overwhelm her.
Cash swore, and she was vaguely aware of the SUV stopping. The door opened and suddenly Cash's arms were around her. "Hey, Bryn, come here."
She fell into his arms, burying her face in his neck. She was shaking so badly she felt like her body was going to shatter, but Cash pulled her tight against him, into the heated strength of his embrace. "I'm here now," he said softly, leaning his cheek against hers. "This is my world. I can keep you safe."
She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting off the sobs threatening to engulf her. His body was so strong and muscled, a solid wall of strength shielding her. She gripped the front of his shirt, holding desperately to him as she pressed her face against his chest. "I saw Jace Donovan kill that woman," she whispered. "I saw how he tore her up. It was...God. It was awful." She pulled back, searching his face for answers. "Was that what happened to those men? Was it the same?"
Cash brushed her hair back from her face, his touch so tender that new tears threatened, different tears, tears of relief at the feel of his familiar touch in the midst of so much horror. "Look at me, Bryn," he said. "What color are my eyes?"
She stared at him. "Green. Like they've always been. Why—"
"I want you to focus on me. Not on the images in your head. Think about the color of my eyes, and only the color of my eyes. Okay?"
There was no way she could do that. The images were too vivid. "I can't—"
"No." He squeezed her firmly, his hands steady on her hips. "You have to shut it out right now. We're in the open and vulnerable, and we need to stay focused."
The image of Melissa's glassy stare flashed through her mind, the expression of horror at the moment of death. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images wouldn't stop. She was shaking now, barely able to breathe. How badly had the men suffered? How much blood had there been? "How can I not think about it? I saw it—"
He swore under his breath. "You're just as stubborn as you ever were." He slid his fingers in her hair. "Shut up and focus, babe, or I'm going to have to make you."
Her eyes flew open at the threat in his voice, and her mind leapt back to the time when she was fourteen, and he'd made that same threat. "Don't you dare, Cash—"
"Too late. I know you've been through hell, but we don't have time for you to freak out." His fingers tightened in her hair, and she knew a split second before he did it, what he was going to do.
He was going to shock the hell out of her system with a kiss designed to bring her to her knees.
* * *
Cash had meant to distract Bryn from the nightmare that wouldn't let her go.
He'd intended to use the kiss as a weapon to ground her.
He hadn't even been thinking about enjoying it.
But the moment he felt Bryn's lips against his, every noble thought vanished from his mind, replaced with her. She melted into him instantly, just as she had so long ago, kissing him back as if he was the source of the air that she breathed. The moment her body sank into his, everything inside him shifted from his mission to her.
Need poured through him, the kind of raw, penetrating need that obliterated everything else. The blood in his veins began to burn, and heat rushed through him, as if lava had been poured into his body and given free rein to consume him. Every thought vanished, except for his awareness of Bryn's mouth under his, and her body flush against him. Her soul seemed to envelop him as if she had become a part of him all over again. This time, however, the connection between them was on a completely different level. Before, it had been the deep bond of a friendship that would never betray him, with the first hints of sexual awakening. Now, the deep pull of their bond was just as intense, but it was inextricably intertwined with a sensuality and physical desire that almost consumed him.
"Bryn." He dug his fingers into her hips and crushed her against him, deepening the kiss, ensnared by the sheer ruthlessness of his need for her. She kissed him back, just as desperately, but as deep as the kiss was, it was a brutal tease that burned for more.
He tunneled one hand through her hair, and palmed her shoulder blades with the other, as if he could, by sheer force, meld their bodies together forever. Having her in his arms again was shocking in its intensity.
In the last decade, he'd been so focused on his life, the pack, and trying to get his shit together that he hadn't had the time to focus on anything else. He hadn't had the luxury of sifting through the memories of a time in his life that, as tough as it had been, had been so much simpler, and always been bathed in the warmth of his friendship with Bryn. He'd put her, and his past, out of his mind long ago, and he hadn't thought of her again until her name had been dropped in that pack meeting that she was targeted for assassination. At that point, he'd only been thinking about making sure she didn't get killed. Not because he wanted her for himself, but because she was the one light he'd ever had, and he was going to make damn sure it didn't get extinguished.
That was it. That had been his goal. To keep her alive. Simple. Straightforward.
But now that he was kissing her, the rest of his life, his grisly, shitty life, disappeared, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the emotions surging through him. She wasn't a mission. She was the person who'd stood by him, the one who'd given him a reason to stay alive when the shit had hit the fan so many years ago. And now, she was in his arms, kissing him back just as fervently as he was kissing her, accepting him completely, despite the years between them, and the hell they were facing.
She made him feel human again. She made him want to be human, to care, to be more than he was, to be the guy she'd once believed in. Hopelessly ensnared by his need for her, he growled low in this throat and angled his head, deepening the kiss, needing more of her.
Bryn's arms locked around his neck, and she leaned into him, her tongue dancing with his in a frantic tango of need, lust, and desire. His cock rock hard, Cash backed her against the side of the SUV, sandwiching her between his body and the cold steel. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, her stomach tight against his. She tasted incredible, a heady combination of temptress and an innocence that was long gone from his life. Her lips were softer than he could conceive of, her kisses a siren call that sent heat rushing directly to his groin.
He moved his right hand from her shoulder blades and slid it beneath the hem of her shirt, spreading his palm across her bare skin, beneath her tank top. Electricity seemed to leap between them, a desperate siren call that had been ignited the moment he'd felt her skin against his. She sucked in her breath, her fingers tightening in his hair as he moved his hand along her lower back, tracing the lines of her spine.
He was stunned by the softness of her skin. He'd forgotten what soft was, what it felt like to do something simply because it felt good. He slid his hand over her hip, across the roundness of her ass, and back up her spine, over all the curves that made her a woman, trying to learn every bit of her body.
A low sigh escaped her lips, a sigh of desire that fueled the fire already burning with him. He moved his hand along her ribs. She shifted restlessly as he cupped her breast, flicking his thumb over her taut nipple.
"Oh, God, Cash," she whispered into the kiss, tensing. "We can't do this." But she leaned into his touch, as if she needed him as much as he needed her. "They could be on us any second."
Shit. The pack. She was right. How had he forgotten? The kiss had swept everything else from his mind, literally consuming him. Swearing, he broke the kiss, but didn't let go of her. He just stared down into her face for a moment, memorizing the slope of her nose, the curve of her mouth, the thickness of her eyelashes. Regret filled him, a sadness he hadn't felt in a long time, a sense of loss for the years that he'd spent without her. "Damn," he said softly. "I think I missed you."
She laughed then, a laugh he remembered from a life that had once been his, her smile lighting up her face. He grinned, stupidly pleased that he could still make her smile, just like before. "Still a sweet-talker, I see," she teased. "You need to be, after disappearing on me like that."
His smile faded. "I'm sorry about that. I was trying to protect you."
"From what?"
He didn't answer. How could he tell her that he'd been trying to protect her from him? He didn't want her to know what he'd become.
She sighed, then touched his face, her fingers drifting gently over his cheek, as if to reassure herself he was really there. "It's good to see you, too, Cash. There's no one else quite like you."
"Is that good or bad?" He clasped her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips.
"Both, I expect," she replied, watching him, her face soft and vulnerable. "If I have to die tonight, I'm glad I got to see you first."
"Fuck that. You're not going to die tonight." He looked over his shoulder, reaching out with his mind to scan the night. It was quiet, empty of the energy signatures of his pack. "Let's get out of here." He began to step back, but when he saw her looking at him with her big blue eyes, something inside him shifted, a deep primal need to imprint on her, to claim her as his.
So, instead of stepping back, he hauled her against him and kissed her one more time, deep, hard, and relentless, not holding back, not hiding the fierceness that was a part of who he was. He needed her to see him for who he was, for what he was, to accept that he wasn't the kid she'd once known. He poured all he was into the kiss, not bothering to hide the raging, raw hunger that pulsed inside him, the one that her kiss had awakened.
She stiffened for a moment, and he knew she'd sensed the difference in the kiss. She knew she was in the arms of a predator, a lethal, dangerous monster. He waited, continuing his assault, his entire soul held in abeyance as he waited for her to decide how to respond.
It was a long, agonizing moment, and then she leaned into him and kissed him back, sinking her body against his once again, accepting the new side of him that he'd revealed to her. Satisfaction roared through him, and he wanted to howl with triumph. He wanted to drag her into his truck, and peel off the layers of clothing that kept them apart. He wanted to trail his mouth over every part of her body, discovering each curve and making it his. He wanted to bury himself inside her, and claim her as his own for all eternity.
His hands crept to her ass, dragging her against him. The kiss instantly turned carnal, so intense that he felt like his skin was going to turn to fire and incinerate them both—
An owl hooted in the distance, jerking him back to the present, and to the reality that they were in a vulnerable position, out in the open, with his pack potentially on their trail. Swearing, he broke the kiss and stepped back, breathing heavily. This time, he dropped his hands from her, unwilling to trust his self-control if he was touching her. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide as she stared at him, trying to catch her breath as well.
"We need to get you safe," he said, his voice rough.
"From you?" She raised an eyebrow as she said it, and he knew she was only partially kidding. Her question was far more accurate than she had any idea.
"Babe, there's no place you can go where you'll be safe from me, now that I've found you again." He pulled the door open and indicated the front seat. "Let's do this."
For a long moment, she didn't move, searching his face, as if trying to decide how to interpret his comment. Her cheeks were still flushed from the kiss, and he could scent her arousal, which was making his cock even harder. "Bryn, if you don't get in the truck," he said quietly, "I'm going to start kissing you again, and I'm not going to stop until we're both naked. This is not the time or the place for that, but I can't help myself when it comes to you. So, get in the truck, please."
Her eyes widened. "You mean that."
"I do." For a second, he wondered what he'd do if she refused to get in the truck. It would be typical Bryn to call him on his threat to see if he was bullshitting her. He could tell she was considering it. "Not this time, Bryn. There's too much at stake. Just get in."
Her gaze slid past him, into the darkness, and then she nodded. "Okay." She ducked past him and hoisted herself into the SUV. She swiftly climbed over to the passenger side, moving with the lithe grace she'd always had. He'd always found it captivating to watch how elegantly she moved, but now, it affected him on a whole new level.
Swearing, he followed her into the truck. By the time he was seated, she was already belted in, and looking down the dark road behind them. "I don't see anything," she said.
"I don't sense them," he agreed, as he adjusted his jeans, trying to make space for his rock-hard cock. He hadn't been this turned on in a long time, and despite the degree of his discomfort, it felt good, damn good. He'd forgotten how it felt to feel like he was alive.
Bryn noticed him adjusting himself, and her eyebrows went up. She didn't make a comment, but a small smile played at the corners of her mouth as she turned away to scan the road behind them.
He was pretty sure that smile was a good sign. A really good sign. It was time to get them off the road and back to the safety of his place, and not simply to escape the pack. He wanted a few moments with her, alone, with nothing but her to think about.
But right now, he had to get them to safety. His mind refocusing on their situation, he turned on the ignition, and the engine roared to life. "Hopefully Drake can intercept the pack and give us time." Drake was highly skilled at survival and deception. The only variable was whether he could find Damien and the pack in time.
Keeping his mind attuned to their surroundings, Cash pulled out onto the road again, shoving aside the fact that his cock and his subconscious were still fixated on the kiss and the feel of her body against his.
"Where are we going?" Bryn asked.
"I have a place where we can lay low." He noticed suddenly that she was bleeding through the comforter strips he'd bound around her arm. He nodded at her arm. "How bad is it?"
She shrugged. "It's fine. It doesn't hurt."
Her casualness made him grin. She'd always been tough, tough enough to keep up with him. Tough enough to ignore her own injuries when she shouldn't. A familiar sense of protectiveness surged through him, a need to keep her safe from her own refusal to take care of herself. "We need to stop first. You need to get treated."
She looked sharply at him. "At a hospital? Do you think that's safe?"
"No. It's not." He ground his jaw, trying to think of their best option. If Drake didn't intercept them, the pack would soon be searching for her, as would the cops. "I can take care of it. I just need to get some supplies."
"Okay. Sounds good." She smiled at him. "Thanks."
Her acceptance of his protection was automatic, reverting back to the trust they'd had so long ago. He liked that she still trusted him, despite all the time that had passed. The bond they'd had was still there...although it was different now. More powerful. More dangerous. More sensual.
She pressed her hand to her arm absently, as if she wasn't even aware she was in pain. "What's going on, Cash? Why were you there tonight? How do you know the pack? How is it that you showed up at my hotel room the night I was supposed to be murdered?"
And there it was. The questions he didn't want to answer. The truth wasn't something he wanted to share.
"Cash?"
He looked over at her, at the woman who had once been his best friend, his only friend. Her blue gaze was steady, her body relaxed as she let him escort her down the darkened road. Something shifted inside him, and he knew he wanted to tell her the truth. If anyone would believe him, it would be Bryn. If anyone would still be able to trust him after learning the truth, it would be Bryn.
But if there was anyone who could break his soul by deciding not to trust him upon hearing the truth…it would be Bryn.
He couldn't risk it.