Chapter Twenty-Three

Rayne

I can’t breathe.

My whole body shivers as I curl up in a ball on the ground and fight for air. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that I’m hyperventilating. Lorn towers above me, but I can barely hear him. His voice sounds like it’s coming through a wind tunnel.

“Rayne! Rayne, breathe! Focus on your breath. I need you to focus for me, Rayne.”

He sits on the ground and tugs me into his arms, cradling me as he tries his best to calm me down. Images of Larry’s sneering face float along my vision. My father is dead on the floor. I see myself standing with my hands out, covered in blood. Some of the images never even happened. They are simply the stuff of my nightmares.

My horrible, terrible nightmares.

“Rayne, I need you to focus on my voice now. I need to you focus on inhaling and exhaling. Forget everything around us except for your breathing and the sound of my voice.”

He sounds so authoritative.

“Are you listening, Rayne? I want you to breathe in and out. Count your breaths until they come back, until you don’t even realize you’re doing it. Let’s count together. One…”

His voice soothes me. I want to do as he asks. Larry’s face dissolves into darkness as I squeeze my eyes shut and count every breath with Lorn. We make it to twenty before I’m breathing normally again, but my whole body is stiff as a corpse.

Perhaps the corpse I will soon become.

I cry then. A good, solid cry. I cry for my mother, the woman who left me to pursue her own dreams. I cry for my father, whose life was cut too short. I cry for myself, the orphan forced to watch her father die. There are so many tears that I’ve held back for so long. My whole life.

Lorn holds me as my tears sink into his jacket. He rocks back and forth in an attempt to soothe me, and I can tell that he’s worried. I don’t need to look into his face to see it. I would be worried, too, if a woman completely lost her marbles on a mountaintop. He strokes the top of my head as though I’m a small child. I should probably be offended, but I’m grateful.

Lorn’s touch is a salve that soothes my tortured soul.

I release a shuddering breath as I try and pull myself together. Lorn says nothing as he continues to hold me close, the snow falling in sheets all around us now.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He tightens his grip around me. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He has so much conviction in his voice I almost believe him.

“I thought I would be safe, getting away, but it’s clear that I’ll never be safe. Not until I die, probably by his hand,” I breathe.

Lorn slides his finger beneath my chin then and forces me to look at him. “Listen to me. Nothing bad is going to happen to you while I have breath in my body. Not now. Not ever. Do you understand?”

He sounds so certain. I remember when I felt certainty about things. That was a blissful time, about twelve years ago. When he holds my gaze, I nod. He wants me to agree, to tell him that I believe in his ability to keep me safe.

Then again, maybe I do. Who better than this beautiful monolithic man to protect me? Still, I remind myself that Lorn is a socialite. What does he know about self-defense?

Oh, right. Prison.

There is a toughness to Lorn that does not come from the ivory towers in New York, but the wild cages of a jail enclosure. Lorn has seen things I can never imagine, and still he holds his head high.

Lorn glances up and around us. The snow is picking up. It’s not a blizzard, but the heavy flakes certainly make it difficult to see. “We need to get back home,” he says.

I think about walking the thirty minutes back down this mountain. The thought is less than appealing. Without missing a beat, Lorn slides his arm beneath my knees and lifts me up.

“Lorn. It’s a thirty-minute walk down a slick mountain. I… I can make it on my own.” Even to my own ears I don’t sound convincing.

Lorn shakes his head, and a smattering of snowflakes dislodges and falls to the ground. “Not a chance. I’m carrying you down, and I don’t want to hear another protest about it.”

A wisp of a smile tugs at my lip at his protective tone. “Or you’ll what?” I ask.

He glances down at me. I can still see worry in his eyes, but there’s a tiny glint of humor. I feel a little more human the more we talk. “Or I’ll have to kiss you until you stop talking.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat? Now I want to protest more.”

He dips his head and kisses me, his lips whisper-soft against mine. When he lifts his head, he starts walking down the mountain. His eyes stay on the path, presumably keeping an eye out for slick spots as he carefully winds his way down with me still in his arms.

“Don’t you get tired? I mean, I know I’m not the heaviest person on Earth, but you carry me around like I’m another one of your books.”

Lorn chuckles. The sound fills my heart with glee. “There’s not much to do out here, as you may have noticed. When I’m not chasing strong-willed young women around, I tend to spend a lot of time working out.”

“With what? I’ve never seen weights around your cabin. Do you let Milly wrap herself around your neck and then fight to break free a few times a week?”

“Milly would never do such a thing. She is a calm and gentle creature.”

“OK, OK, I get that. But seriously, what do you do?”

I like making conversation. It’s distracting me from my pounding heart and aching mind. My eyes feel like sandpaper in the cold after crying so hard. I must look awful, but when Lorn glances down at me, I see what appears to be adoration in his eyes.

Is that what that is? No. Lorn has sworn off women. We’re… well, I don’t know what we are.

“I do as our ancestors did. Lift logs, chop wood, things like that. Actually, chopping and stacking wood is a great workout, and it’s something I never stop doing, since every cabin has a wood burning stove around here.”

Lorn’s head is covered with a layer of snow as he walks us back down. The mountain levels off as he walks, and I cling to him a little tighter. Might as well take advantage of the ride, right?

“What about you?” he asks.

“What about me?”

“You own a string of bakeries, but you’re in perfect shape. How do you do it, being surrounded by baked goods all the time?”

I grin up at him. “Running.”

“Oh.”

It’s an easy enough answer that Lorn can’t think of any witty comebacks. Instead the conversation ends, and with it, my sense of ease. I glance around us, wondering if Larry is nearby, if he’s simply biding his time. Maybe he’s been waiting for me to be alone, for Lorn to disappear so he can make his move. If he’s smart, that’s exactly what he’d be doing.

Lorn would destroy him.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you for all that you’ve done,” I say.

Lorn doesn’t miss a beat. “A five-star review on Yelp should suffice.”

I chuckle, but I can’t quite shake the somber feeling in my heart. “Do you think the police will help us?”

Lorn glances down at me then looks back up and continues walking. The path has grown flat, and we’re not far from his place.

“Of course they will. They won’t be able to get out right away, but they have his information and a lead. They’ll help us.”

“I hope so,” I say, doubtful.

“I know so. Now let’s hunker down and stay safe for the rest of the day. We’ll be able to take some action tomorrow when the police arrive.”

“OK,” I say. This isn’t exactly how I imagined spending my month away. I suppose I didn’t know what I would be doing. I never imagined a guy like Lorn in my life either, but here I am, being carried like a sack of potatoes by this dreamboat of a man.

Lorn’s cabin appears in front of us, and he keeps me in his arms as he opens the door and steps inside. It’s still chilly, since the fire from the night before died out and we made a quick exit this morning. Lorn sets me back down on the couch and wraps me in a blanket, then he kneels in front of the wood stove and stacks some logs.

He lights the fire and stokes it until it’s blazing hot, then he turns to look at me. “Your color’s still off. We need to get you warm and get you some tea.”

I want to protest, but I don’t know why. Why not let myself get treated like a goddess? I’ve never had a man put such care into me before. I’m not used to it, and I don’t know how to handle it. Lorn rises and plants a gentle kiss on my forehead, then cradles the back of my neck with his hand as he presses his forehead against mine.

When he stands, my whole body tingles all over. Lorn steps away into the kitchen, and I don’t even bother to hide the fact that I’m watching him as he prepares a cup of hot tea for me. The fire warms my stiff limbs, and I watch as Milly slithers out of her little room and glides past me.

“Hi, Milly.” I drape my hand down and let my fingertips slide along her smooth scales as she moves by. What a strange place this is, and yet it feels like a place I would never want to leave. Lorn gives Milly a pet and steps out to feed her, then brings me my cup of tea.

He sits next to me and gingerly hands me the cup, then lifts my legs and props them over his lap. Together we sit by the fire and warm up from our excursion.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

To be honest. I don’t know. I was thinking about how nice it is to be held in Lorn’s arms, how wonderful it is to feel real safety. I’m in danger. My instincts have never led me astray about that. I also know that Lorn is a powerful man with the ability to protect me in any situation, no matter what.

Oh no.

I glance up at Lorn, at his perfect, stunning, caring face. I’m falling in love with him. I don’t think I’m going to be able to tell him that. Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?

“Nothing,” I say.

I’ll leave it at that… for now.