Leather and Sand (Riding the Line Series) (11 page)

Chapter Ten

Loved her?!

Wince said he
loved
the stowaway
too.
The implication of those words was like a sharp kick to the nuts. As much as he had desired Rhee, Dax never even considered that he might have loved the girl.
How could I have loved her?
I hardly knew her.
Still, the fact remained that the depth of his betrayal and pain in the wake of the stowaways’ absence only made sense if he considered that he had feelings for the girl. Deep feelings. The thought tore him up inside.
I did not—do not
—
love anyone.

Love was a fickle emotion. It felt good at first, but then it turned into pain. He was coiled so tight inside that Dax thought he was going to snap. All he could think about was Rhee and her deception. The scene from the night before was stuck on replay inside his mind. Rhee’s look of terror, that child—
my child?!—
walking from the room and calling the stowaway, “mommy…”

If that little girl was his child, his
flesh and blood
, he damn well wanted to hear the confirmation from Rhiannon’s own mouth. And then he wanted to hear all about why she left. Even though he thought he already knew the answer. It was obvious. Wasn’t it?

Fuck, do I even want to know?

Dax was so confused and frustrated that he had practically jumped out of the van before Wince put it in park. He just needed space to dilute the volatile feelings brewing in his heart, and he needed it now. He was leaving Wince in the lurch, but fuck, the kid had to step up at some point.

No time like the present.

Dax wandered the beach for a solid hour with no destination in mind. Before long, anger began to color over his other emotions, turning his face dark with rage. All of his violent feelings were directed at the girl who had walked out of his life so easily and had never looked back. Rhiannon abandoned him, possibly with the knowledge that she carried his firstborn child when she did it. And she hadn’t even had the decency to tell him. That defection angered him even more.

Truthfully, the thought of a having a child scared Dax on so many levels that it boggled his mind. His damaged heart focused its rage more comfortably on being abandoned. Was leaving him so simple?
It sure the hell seems to be.
Dax wasn’t fully cognizant of the emotional pain his anger muted. All he knew was that he was mad enough to spank someone, and that someone was Rhiannon Blake.

Dax Jamison had never been the kind of man who ran from his troubles. He faced them head on and he conquered them. But this kind of trouble was novel to him and he didn’t know quite what to do or how to process what he was thinking and feeling. He wanted to spank Rhiannon silly. He also wanted to fuck her senseless. His cock stirred in his jeans.

Yeah, I want to show her what she walked out on.

Maybe he wanted her to reject him again. On some level, Dax was aware that it would cut him so deeply he would never be open to that kind of hurt again. He had thought the damn thing—his heart—had been blackened long ago. But the kind of hurt he was feeling now could only mean that a faint beat still lingered. One that he wanted to extinguish for good.

Love is pain.

Dax’s angst dulled his senses. He didn’t notice the brown sedan pull out behind him as he marched determinedly back to his borrowed bike and gunned the motor, ignoring the interested group of sarong-clad bikini girls who watched him from the sidewalk. On a mission to determine what exactly was going on, Dax sped straight to Rhee’s secluded little cottage. He had questions. Lots of them. And the origin of a little girl with golden hair topped his list.

Dax was off his bike before the engine died down. He stormed straight back through the garden to Rhee’s door. He raised his hand to pound on it. Part of him wanted to just kick the damn thing in. Just like last time, the door swung open before he had a chance to signal his arrival. The woman, Manali, ushered him inside as though she had been expecting him. She looked him up and down, and then nodded to herself with a secret smile.

He knew that his anger was obvious. There was no way to hide it. Dax opened his mouth to interrogate Manali but she silenced him with a shake of her head. There was something about the older woman that Dax respected. She held a quiet authority and he knew instinctively that having her in his corner would be helpful. It was a struggle, but Dax managed to kept his mouth shut as he followed her into the garden.

The backyard oasis infiltrated his fury, cooling his rage. It was a place you could imagine settling down in. The cottage was snug and surrounded by lush foliage. The distant sound of water and gulls floated into the yard to mingle with the smell of hibiscus and plumeria. Several palm trees provided shade. In short, it was paradise. And he had no right to be there. A man like him didn’t belong.

Dax stiffened, wondering what the hell he was doing.
I shouldn’t be here.
No, he shouldn’t, his fickle conscience agreed. He should seal his deal and go home, never to return. Dax’s jaw set into a grim line as he turned on his heel to walk back out the gate.

A gentle hand stilled him, the light pressure on his arm was oddly compelling. He regarded the wizened old face quizzically.

“She is just there, down the trail. Go.”

At first he didn’t know which female Manali referred to—the adult or the child. He wasn’t even sure which one he sought at the moment. Even though the idea of being a father twisted his gut, he
had
to see that little girl again. He had only laid eyes on the child for a moment, but he knew. Rhee’s reaction had told all. That child was his. She had to be. The timing, Rhiannon’s swift departure—-all of it added up. And Rhee had known when she left. The stowaway left for a reason.
Of course she did.
Rhee had probably figured out the truth—that he’d be the world’s most fucked up parent. Look at his childhood, for shit’s sake. He was no good for either of them, especially a baby.

I should leave her be.
I should leave both of them be.

***

Manali took the boy’s hands in her own weathered ones. Her intuition told her that his spirit was strong, but also that he was in a great deal of pain. Most of the lost boys were. This one held a lot of old pain in his heart. It was deep-seated hurt, the kind that ate you up from the inside out. Manali hadn’t seen such a dark shade of black on a boy’s heart in a long while. The hurt reflected in his eyes, buried under layers and layers of anger and sadness. Her fingers went to the large, onyx pendant that she wore around her neck. It was an old talisman that Manali inherited from her grandmother. Her ancestor often said that the pendant carried wisdom of the gods. She grasped the lost boy’s hand tightly, trying to communicate the secrets of the island to him.

Manali rarely made mistakes when it came to reading people. Lost boys all needed the same thing. They needed those who had been lost to them—their families. The irony of it all was that this boy’s family was just there, down the beach. Would he see the answer? It was a simple solution, but ah, the gull never flew straight, did it now? No perfect lines. No, the path to eternal happiness often lay just around a harrowing bend that would break you down completely before it built you up once more. Only by facing the challenge dead on, baring your soul, and looking your fear in the eye would you achieve the necessary outcome.

Manali offered a prayer in her native language to guide the boy but he still did not see his truth. She could see the confusion on his face, but Manali only smiled. “Sometimes the path is not clear.” He nodded as she took him by the hand and directed him to the sandy beach trail.

“Take this one.”

The boy took a tentative step onto the trail, his boot skidding in the loose grains of soft sand.

“And take off those damned boots,
haole
.”

***

Dax stood on the beach taking in the picture-perfect scene before him. The ocean was glassy, with just a hint of offshore wind. A perfectly shaped set was coming in, and a few guys sat in the line up. The sight calmed his tortured soul somewhat. Then, he spied Rhiannon. The stowaway was the only woman on the beach. Dax narrowed his eyes, observing as she engaged in conversation with a pretty big dude covered in tribal tattoos.

Who the fuck is that guy?
There always seems to be some asshole buzzing around her.

Although he was supremely angry, something in Dax’s heart softened as he gazed at Rhee. The big guy towered over her, making her look smaller and more fragile than he remembered. She wore a yellow bikini top that tied around her neck. The color showed off her golden tan. Even from the short distance away, her breasts looked larger, fuller. Dax licked lips that had suddenly gone dry as he continued his perusal. The girl’s hair, much longer and lighter in color than it had been before, swirled around her shoulders and down her back. A colorful sarong was tied artfully around her hips. The thin material did nothing to hide the generous swell of her ass or the lush curve of her thigh.

As he visually devoured Rhee, Dax could feel eyes on him as well. In fact, the animosity was nearly tangible as he took a step onto the sand. The back of his neck prickled in anticipation of the coming confrontation. He had ditched his boots after Rhee’s spitfire of a landlady made a parting comment about mainlanders and shoes. It felt odd to confront potential rivals in bare feet. Dax hesitated. He didn’t want to cause a scene but he also couldn’t stay away. He had come here for answers, and he would get them.

I don’t care who the fuck these punks are.

Dax Jamison refused to be intimidated. In fact, confrontations like these seemed to spur quite the opposite reaction. He felt his adrenaline surge as he straightened to his full height, taking stock of the situation. Most of these local boys might be larger in girth, but he had an obvious height advantage. Dax sauntered towards Rhee with purposeful strides. He caught the gesture the big guy sent to the others down the beach as they waxed their boards. Three of them stiffened, observing his approach. Then, they too began walking towards Rhiannon.

Looks like she has her own little surfer-thug army here.
His eyes flickered over the tribal ink and he felt a flash of recognition but he covered it up. Dax wouldn’t pull rank here.
Let’s make this a little more interesting.
He met each territorial gaze head on, scoping the men out. His shirt covered his own ink—ink that would dissolve this tension in a second. But…he liked throwing people a little off-kilter.

Dax found himself wondering if Rhee was with any of them. If she had been
with
any of them. The thought made him tense with possessive ire, even as he struggled with the rage that simmered just beneath the surface. Finally, he was standing in front of her. He noticed that Rhee was trembling, those large liquid pools of green in her eyes shimmering with anxiety.

He didn’t intend to speak first. Perversely, he wanted to see Rhee squirm before he started questioning her. Dax glanced around for somewhere more private where he could have it out with the stowaway, but before either of them said a word, the big man stepped slightly in front of Rhee. It was a silent challenge. Dax felt himself swelling with aggressive energy, his mouth settling into a grim line as his jaw tensed. It was at least six to one—he was obviously outnumbered. It would take finesse rather than fighting to sort this touchy situation out. Revealing his identity would only complicate things now.

A large, shaggy dog approached, tensing for a brief second with a low growl. Then, a happy whine ensued as the animal pushed his cold, wet nose into Dax’s palm. He smiled, despite the growing tension on the beach.

Hey, at least the dog likes me.

“This is a private beach. Locals only,” the man with the large, tribal turtle on his chest stated firmly, looking from the dog to Dax with a hint of question in his eyes.

“I understand. Just need a few words with my
friend
, here.”

Rhee cast her eyes down at the sand, an attractive flush appearing on her cheeks and chest as he spoke the word, “friend.” Dax stared at her steadily, daring her to return his gaze. As smoothly as if she sensed the invitation and rejected it, she defied him by turning slightly away. Her dismissive reaction only increased his desire to spank the shit out of her. His fists clenched, his palms burning with the desire to feel her naked bottom beneath them.

“Don’t think she’s interested,
haole
.”

“It’s important. I’ll wait until she’s ready to show a little interest.” Dax countered, the challenge evident in his voice and posture.

His hands flexed as he fought the urge to just grab the stowaway and toss her over his shoulder like a caveman.
And then I’ll yank that little blue skirt off of her and redden her ass.
The thought caused a reaction in his jeans that Dax had to fight to control. Being so close to her, and having all of these other men around, made Dax itch to stake his claim. All over her. He smiled grimly to himself as he recognized that no matter how angry he was with Rhiannon, he still wanted her—and it pissed him off. He didn’t
want
to want her. He didn’t want any of this!

“Turtle…” Rhee finally said, sounding somewhat choked, “it’s okay, really.”

“Sorry,
tita,
but rules are rules. No one chills on this beach unless they earn the right.”

The dog whined, like he was apologizing. Dax and Turtle exchanged glances that were charged with meaning. Dax looked to the row of shortboards lined up on the sand, a question in his eyes. Turtle nodded. Dax shrugged and then nodded as well. The challenge had been issued and accepted.

Chapter Eleven

Once Rhee realized what was going on, she was horrified. “Turtle, no!”

Her anxiety at seeing Dax walk onto the beach was replaced by fear for his bodily health. They were going to make him surf the reef. This beach was home to a gnarly, fast wave that broke on sharp coral, in about two feet of water. Part of the reason it was considered a locals beach. Tourists got hurt here when they chanced to find the beach unguarded. Rhee had personally witnessed the consequences of screwing up on that wave, and it hadn’t been pretty. One of Turtle’s boys ended up looking like he had been attacked with a cheese grater, and his new nickname, Cheddar, would forever remind him of the day he challenged this wave…and lost.