Hunted Love (A Dangerous Kind of Love Book 2) (27 page)

She pulled on the faded blue tee shirt and striped pajama bottoms then turned to the floor length mirror next to the bed. She turned to the side, not exactly pleased with the way her body disappeared underneath the material.

She twisted the end of the tee shirt into a knot at her side pulling it across her midriff before turning her attention to the waistband which hung just a bit too low on her hips and the bottom of each hem which pooled at her feet. She tightened the drawstring then rolled each hem over and over until she could walk without tripping. Satisfied with the overall look, she then turned her attention to the gigantic bedroom.

A huge canopy king-sized bed sat on one side of the room between an ornate fireplace and the door to the large master bathroom. On the other side of the room was a sitting area with a worn floral couch, flanked by two chairs and opposite a large picture window. She walked over to the window and looked out between the boards covering the glass. Rain lashed at the windowpane, but as lighting crossed the sky, she got a good view of the stables and the gorge just beyond that.

It must be beautiful in the daylight
, she thought, as the sky went dark again. She turned from the window. Noticing a family album lying on a writing desk in the corner, she picked it up and began flipping through Jamie’s family photos, eagerly looking for any sign of him. 

Halfway through, she finally found an adorable baby picture. She smiled as she watched him grow from a smiling happy toddler to the sweet young boy she vaguely remembered saving her all those years ago. The last picture she came to was a picture of Jamie bending over, blowing out ten multicolored candles on his birthday cake. His beaming parents stood behind him.

She flipped to the next page in the album and frowned. Her frown deepened as she flipped through empty page after page. She had hoped to see more pictures of him and his family, but it appeared as if everything stopped shortly after he turned ten.

She learned from her sister Madison that Jamie’s folks had passed away at some point before he was fifteen, and his aunt and uncle had raised him, but she really didn’t know much more than that. Jamie had always changed the subject whenever she had asked him about his family.

She flipped over the last page and stopped, surprised to see her own face. She pulled back the plastic cover and pulled the picture out.

It was a picture of her and Jamie at the pub on Halloween. He stood on one side of the bar dressed in regular street clothes and she stood on the other, wearing a fifties styled pink poodle skirt. In the picture, she was smiling and laughing at him as he playfully tried to grab the scarf tied around her hair.

Now, why would he keep this picture of just the two of us
? She thought as a warm feeling swept through her. A slow smile lit up her face.

The creak of a board outside the room caught her attention. She quickly stuck the picture back inside and closed the album before turning around. She hid the album behind her back as Jamie appeared.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at him. He stood in the doorway, clad only in a pair of worn jeans, which hung low on his hips, his hair wet from his shower. She bit her lip.

He smiled softly, his gaze falling to his rolled up pajama bottoms dusting the floor at her feet. He started to say something, but then paused as his gaze slipped to something past her body.

She glanced behind her shoulder, wondering what had drawn his attention from her only a moment before. She caught her reflection in the mirror, the album clearly visible in her hands. She brought it out in front of her as if she hadn’t just been caught snooping and tried to act natural. “It looks like someone’s been living here.”

The corner of his lips quirked up. “I’ve been living here for the past month,” he said, reaching for the album.

“Oh?”

The picture of the two of them slipped out of the album and to the floor.

His face reddened as he bent to pick up the photo.

“Nice picture,” she said, snatching it out of his hands.

“I thought so.” He looked over her shoulder. “I don’t usually take good pictures, but I thought I looked pretty decent that night.”

“Very,” she affirmed. “Is that the only reason you kept this particular picture?”

“I can’t think of any other reason.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Can you?”

She pursed her lips together to keep from smiling. “Hmm. You know, I look pretty decent too. I’d really like to have a copy of this . . . Wait, I have an idea,” she said placing her fingers at the top of the photograph. “Why don’t you keep your half and…” He made a quick grab for the picture but she jerked it out of his reach. “What?”

Smiling, he reached around her to grab her wrist. “Give me my picture.”

“Why?” Sarah lightly pushed against his chest and stepped back, giggling as he followed her. Tumbling back onto the bed, she play-wrestled with him over the photo. When he finally took her wrists in his hands and loomed over her, she grinned up at him. “I’ve come up with a perfect compromise. You keep your half, and I’ll keep mine.”

He grinned as he pinned her beneath him. “No, get your own picture. This one’s mine.” He plucked it out of her hand.

“Where did you even find it?”

“Nathan. He was taking pictures for the pub website that night and I just happened to come across it . . .”

“You stole it?”

“It’s digital. I made a copy of it.” He placed the picture on the nightstand. “If you want one that badly I’ll make a copy for you too.”

“Where are the other pictures?” she asked as he stretched out next to her on the bed.

“On Nathan’s computer.”

“No, the other ones of you in the album,” she said rolling to her side to face him. “They all stopped when you turned ten.”

“There aren’t any others.”

“I saw one of you and Robin at Kristen and Phoebe’s stables.”

“That’s probably the only one that exists. Are you hungry? I think I have some soup downstairs.”

Before he could move away from her, she gripped his arm, stilling him. “What happened, Jamie?” When he didn’t answer, she asked, “How did you end up with Patrick O’Malley? Why on earth did you leave this place and start working for him, especially at such a young age?”

He propped the pillows behind his head before wrapping an arm around her waist, bringing her closer.

She tentatively laid a hand on his chest as she gazed down at him. “Why did you lie to me?”

He gently traced his fingers down her cheek. “About?”

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth about Robin? Why didn’t you tell me the real reason you were in prison?”

“Well, I had tried to introduce myself to pretty girls by saying, hi my name is Jamie, I’m a convicted murderer, but for some reason that wasn’t the icebreaker I was going for.”

She lightly slapped his arm. “Very funny. You could’ve told me the truth.”

He pushed back her hair. “I wish I had. You would’ve run to the hills.”

“Is it so bad having me around?”

“No,” he admitted softly, “but it’s not good for you.”

“You’re always trying to protect me,” she said laying her head on his chest.

“For good reason.” He sighed as he cupped her hand against his chest. “I wish someone had protected me.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “What happened?”

“Shortly after my tenth birthday my parents’ plane crashed. My dad died instantly,” he said softly. “He used to love to fly. He flew in Vietnam. This buddy of his told me at his funeral that he was the best he’d ever seen.”

“What happened to your mother?”

“She survived, but just barely. She lingered for another couple of years in a hospital. She was never the same though. She didn’t even know who I was.”

“I’m so sorry.” She hugged him closer not sure what else to say.

“My Aunt Laura came to take care of me and the farm.” He snorted. “She was horrible at it. She tried but she just didn’t know what to do with me or the horses. Everything started falling apart. When money became tight, she sold the horses.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t sell the house.”

“Couldn’t. When Mom finally passed away a few years later, the land came to me and it was placed in a trust, but it didn’t matter at that point. Aunt Laura had met someone by then. Someone with money. They married and she moved us to Lexington to live with him and his son.”

“What was he like?”

“Roger? He was okay. He loved her and was nice to me.”

“Kristen and Phoebe said that he worked for Patrick O’Malley.”

“Sometimes. When Patrick needed something unpleasant done to someone, he called Roger and Roger did it. Aunt Laura had no idea who he really was or what he was into when she married him.”

“What did she do when she found out?”

“She never did. One of Roger’s enemies killed her a few years after they got married.”

“Why?”

“Revenge for something Roger did. Roger killed him and then we went on the run.”

“He took you with him?”

“Why not? I didn’t have any other family. Roger and Brian were all I had.”

She gasped. “Brian? As in Doctor Brian Shaw?”

“Well, he wasn’t a doctor then,” he said running a hand through her hair. “Back then, he was an annoying kid. It didn’t last long though. The cops caught up to him in Arizona, but not before he dropped me and Brian off at a friend of his for safe keeping. I was there for two weeks before the friend got tired of taking care of us and passed us along to his crazy uncle and aunt.” His hands stilled in her hair. “Roger wasn’t the best influence but at least he was sane. This guy though . . .”

“What was he like?”

“Scary. At first, he seemed normal, but then he started getting weirder and weirder. Really possessive. His wife and kids were just as strange. One night at dinner, Brian asked him if he could take us to see Roger in jail. The guy didn’t say anything, he just walked into our bedroom and destroyed everything in there with a hammer. His son tried to set the house on fire the next night. Have no idea why. He just decided to set the drapes on fire. Brian was terrified of them. I even started sleeping with a baseball bat.”

“How long were you there?”

“Six very long months,” he said trailing his fingers down her arm. “I don’t think Brian ever recovered.”

She laid her head on his chest. “Did they hurt you?”

“Sometimes,” he murmured softly.

Her arms tightened around him, as an overpowering need to protect him swept through her. “How did you and Brian finally get away?”

“I killed him.”

She jerked her head up.

“One night, I woke up to the sound of the guy’s kids screaming their heads off. By the time I got out there, he had killed all but his youngest daughter. The only reason he didn’t kill her was because I stopped him with my baseball bat.”

“Why did he kill everyone?”

“Who knows? The guy was insane. Anyway, once he was dead, we took off. We had to live on the streets for a while, but we eventually made it back here.”

Sarah sat up. “Why didn’t you wait for the police?”

“I was fifteen years old and scared. I had no idea what was going to happen. All I knew was that Roger was sitting in jail and I didn’t feel like joining him. All I wanted to do was go home.”

“How did you get here?”

“Hitched rides. I eventually stole a car in Missouri. It took us a few months but we made it.”

Sarah shook her head unable to fathom how he managed to survive. “What did you do when you got here? Who took care of you?”

“I took care of us. My father taught me how to hunt and fish. I had no choice but to learn how to live off the streets when we ran away. It wasn’t easy but we managed. It was only for a few months anyway. Roger was acquitted a little while later. He eventually found us and took us to Patrick O’Malley.”

“Why?”

“Roger had business in New York and didn’t want us around. He probably would have left us there, but then Brian stole something out of O’Malley’s house and he told Roger to come pick us up.”

“What did he steal?”

“Oh, just some trinket. He may have gotten hold of some jewelry. I’m not sure. He was always picking things up back then. Half the time, I don’t even think he was aware he was doing it.”

“Kristen thought you got thrown out because you were fooling around with Robin.”

“Nah, it had nothing to do with her.”

“What did you do then?”

“Roger took us to New York. That’s when Brian told him what I had done in Arizona. He swore he wouldn’t ever tell a soul, but he blabbed the first night he was back with his dad. When I found out that Roger knew, I was afraid, but Roger seemed really proud of me. He started paying more attention to me. Started teaching me stuff. Started taking me with him everywhere he went.”

“But what about school, sports, dances, parties? You know, typical teenage things.”

“Brian got to do that sort of thing. Roger had different plans for me. He said it was time for me to start earning my keep. At first, it wasn’t so bad, but after a while, things got worse, especially when he moved us back here. Patrick O’Malley and one of his closest friends had a falling out over the pub. It used to belong to Charlie Hogan, but Patrick decided one day that he wanted it and stole it out from underneath him. Charlie went on the warpath. People started dying and Patrick called Roger to come take care of the problem.”