One to Love (One to Hold #4) (8 page)

I kept crawling until I was several feet away before I turned to look. The thin man was nowhere to be seen, but the new guy was fixed in the spot where he stood. His fists clenched and unclenched, over and over, and a low sound like growling whispered through his lips with each labored breath. It was as if an internal battle was playing out in front of me.

Carefully, I helped myself rise on wobbly legs. My shoes were lost in the darkness along with my panties, and my dress was torn. I took a few, hesitant steps toward the man standing over my attacker. I was only holding on by a thread and ready to run as hard as I could back to Mariska.

“Thank you,” I managed, my voice broken.

My words seemed to break the spell, and the guy staggered back. He turned to me, but I could barely see his face between my tears and the dim light.

“Are you okay?” His voice was as shaken as mine.

I nodded, unable to stop trembling. “You... you saved me.”

He was taller than me, and he had on knee-length shorts and a white tee that caught the light. He rubbed his stomach and leaned forward slightly. Then he coughed and took a deep breath, digging in his pocket.

“Do you need to call your brother?”

Confusion was my first response. “I don’t have a brother.” Then I remembered my failed last attempt at escape. “That was a bluff.”

He took a careful step toward me. “I need to go. Is there anyone you can call?”

The asshole in the sand groaned. “
Shit
,” my savior whispered under his breath. “Can you make it back—”

Just then I heard my name being yelled from the direction of the bar. I looked up to see Mariska in the distance heading our way fast, and behind her was what had to be Pete. Turning to the guy, our eyes met, and I had the strangest urge to rush forward and hide in his arms. I didn’t even know who he was, and he was clearly unglued over what had happened here. Maybe I was in shock, but I wished he would touch me, hold me. He saved my life.

“Those are my friends,” I said quietly. “I’ll be okay now.”

He nodded. “Good.” His hand went up, palm facing me as he backed away. “Go to them.”

“What’s your name?” I asked, but my voice was lost in the pounding of the surf and the swirl of the ocean breeze around us as he ran, leaving me there on the shore alone.

Slowly, I turned toward Mariska, but I jumped when I saw the thin man had returned. He was helping a moaning Grif onto his knees and glaring at me.

“Stupid bitch!” he spat. “You set him up, you fuckin’ cock tease. I watched you dancing with him, rubbing your ass all over his dick. Was that your boyfriend?”

Shudders racked my chest, and I didn’t even answer.
This wasn’t my fault!
For a moment, all I could do was blink at him like an idiot. Then I started running away from them, in the direction of Mariska and Pete.
Bastard, horrible fucking bastard.
I just wanted to get away as fast as my legs would carry me.

When I finally reached my friends, I collapsed into Mariska’s arms. “Take me home,” I cried against her shoulder. “I need to go home.”

Her body was tense as she held me, stroking my back. “Kenny! What happened? I couldn’t find you!”

Pete was with us then, and I felt his warm hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”

I didn’t want to talk about it with anybody. Clearly Grif had planned the whole thing from the start, even down to his witness and alibi. It wouldn’t matter what I said, they’d claim I started it all. Now I just wanted to go home and crawl beneath my covers.

“Y-yeah.” I said, pulling myself together as hard as I could. “I-I had an accident. I was running, and I... I fell. I tripped on the sand.”

Mariska gasped. “Oh! Your dress is torn! Are you bleeding?”

I lifted the ends of my dress. “My heel got caught in it. I had to take my shoes off. I-I think I’ll be okay.”

My friend’s brows pulled together, and I was sure she didn’t believe me. “Where’s Grif?” She looked over my shoulder down the beach in the direction from which I’d come.

“He met an old friend.” My mind was flying, making up a story as fast as bits of information would come to me. “They were talking, catching up, and I heard you calling me. So I left. I really just want to go home now.”

Mariska and Pete both stood on the beach staring at me for a moment. A shudder rippled across my shoulders, but I took a slow breath and lifted my chin to look at them. I even managed a smile. “I think I had a little too much to drink tonight. Please take me home now. Please?”

My friend’s lips pressed together in a tight line, but she stepped to the side. “Sure. Of course!”

Pete turned and led us slowly back in the direction of the bar. His hands were in his pockets, and his shoulders were hunched. Mariska held my hand, our arms laced together, and I forced myself to walk, not to break down, to be strong for just a little while longer.

We made it to her car, and I waited in the passenger’s seat as she stood outside for a few moments talking to Pete. The roaring in my ears drowned out any conversation they might be having. My super-controlled breathing kept my back straight, my body from curling into a ball.

Conversation was minimal as we made the short drive back to my house. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Mariska asked softly.

I nodded too rapidly and smiled too big. “I’m great!” I said in a voice I knew was too high.

Her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “I’m sorry I lost track of you. Pete... wanted to talk.”

I couldn’t even go there with her. “It’s okay.” I was hoarse from screaming and fighting, and at this point, I was running on will power alone. We were at my apartment, and I pulled my bag onto my lap.

“Thanks, Mare.” I reached for the handle, but she caught my arm.

“I know you’re not telling me something. If you want to take off tomorrow, I’ll tell Rook you’re sick. I can call your clients and reschedule or see if Tammy can take them?”

Blinking rapidly, I nodded. “I might do that. Thanks.”

Her grip relaxed on my arm, but I didn’t meet her eyes. “Thanks again,” I whispered, pulling the handle.

In less than two minutes, I was inside my apartment, dropping all of my things in a path leading from the door to my bedroom. My torn dress was quickly over my head, and I pushed naked between the cool sheets. I pulled my knees tight against my chest, wrapping my arms around them and hugging myself into a tight ball. Tears fell silently as my thoughts blurred, and it wasn’t long before shock gave way to sleep.

––––––––

M
onday morning, I’d been back at the club at seven, ready to do it all over again when Rook stopped me at the door.

“That your truck?” He pointed out the glass doors at my rusty old Ford.

“Yeah.” I squinted at him, unsure if he were accusing me of carjacking or yanking my chain. I couldn’t imagine a guy with his resources caring about the junker I used to get from Point A to Point B.

“Got some supplies stuck in Scranton. It’s worth it to me to get them here tomorrow if I can find someone willing to drive out there and load it all up by himself.” He looked at me. “Think you can handle a job like that?”

I stepped away, rubbing the back of my neck. “You need me to drive to Scranton?”

He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a thick fold of bills. I watched him unfold one, two, three. “Here’s money to cover your gas, food, hotel room.”

For a moment, I stared at the cash in my hand. An itch of warning pricked at the back of my neck. “You want receipts?”

“Nah, keep the change.” He slapped me on the back, and my conditioned response kicked in.

“I’ll bring you receipts and return the difference.”

Rook exhaled loudly. “Can’t you just take it and say thanks?”

“I’m no charity case.”

“Right.” His eyes narrowed. “And you’re still on probation here. Use whatever’s left to buy a new pair of jeans and eat something. I don’t want members thinking I hire vagrants.”

I started to reply, but he cut me off. “Do it, or you’re fired. And don’t leave without cleaning the locker rooms. I expect you on the road by ten.”

A quick glance at the clock said I had three hours. I’d be on the road in two.

* * *

M
y old Ford managed the highway better than I expected. The mechanic who sold it to me was pretty scuzzy, but he guaranteed the engine checked out. Looked like he was honest. I made it to Gym Supply in four hours without any issues other than road fatigue.

The girl at the counter directed me around to the dock. She was a petite redhead in jeans and a maroon tee with Gym Supply across the front in white. “Yeah, we got your order.” She flipped pages back and forth on a loaded clipboard. “This driver’s strike has us all fucked up.”

“Driver’s strike?” I didn’t like the sound of that. I wasn’t looking to cross any picket lines.
Shit
.

Reading my expression, she quickly added. “It’s not our guys, it’s a union thing. We’re not in the loop, but our drivers are taking off to help where they’re striking. Lou won’t stop ‘em, but it’s fucking up everything.” Brown eyes flickered across my shoulders. “Looks like you can load it yourself. I’m Paige, by the way.”

She checked me out, allowing her eyes to linger as they drifted below my beltline. I couldn’t help feeling that white-hot singe of desire. She was a pretty girl with a nice rack, and I hadn’t been laid in ages. The heat rose to my chest, the old opportunistic urge. I was sure Paige knew where we could go, unwrap those gorgeous tits, shimmy down those jeans. I’d wrap that red hair around my fist and give her the ride of her life. From the look of her, it wouldn’t take much to have her screaming my name.

Clearing my throat, I stepped back. “Yeah, I can handle it.”

“Follow me, then.” She led the way, and I looked around, distracting my mind from the bounce of her round ass.
Shit
. “Here’s the order. If you pull your truck around, you can use the dolly.”

She stood waiting, eyebrow cocked at me. The hint of a smile was on her lips. Several cardboard boxes were wrapped together with plastic. I wasn’t sure they would all fit, but I hadn’t known what to expect.

“You got a canvas or something I can use to cover it? We can send it back with our next delivery.”

“Help yourself to whatever you see.” She put one hand on her hip, as if that included her.

Holding my eyes away, I nodded. That wasn’t me anymore. I’d buried that part of myself along with the guy I used to be. “Thanks. I’ll be back to load up in the morning.”

This was an overnight delivery trip, not a one-night stand, although I couldn’t help glancing back. She stood there on the dock, hand on her hip, that little grin on her mouth. Lust was blazing in her eyes, hitting me straight in the gut.

When I was starving, it was easy to focus on food. Now that I was eating somewhat regularly, that old, primal hunger gnawed at my insides. From the dark recesses of my past, the feel of my cheek against the soft curve of a full breast flashed like lightening. I remembered holding lush handfuls, heavy between my fingers... My mouth clamping down hard on a tight nipple.

With a growl, I shook my head, climbing into the cab and starting the engine. I wasn’t doing any of that, and I wasn’t fucking up this job. I’d return in the morning to bust my ass hauling boxes, forget these stupid memories, and then head back to Toms River.

* * *

E
arly Tuesday afternoon I rolled into the Jungle Gym lot. Rook had given me the key, and I went around to unload right at the garage. Moving a load of heavy boxes, driving four hours, and moving them all again had me exhausted and ready to call it a day.

Truck empty, I headed to Wal-Mart to find a pair of jeans. If this money was an advance on my paycheck, I might as well use it to get a few new shirts and a little more to eat.

Dinner was half a rotisserie chicken. I could’ve eaten the whole buttery, greasy bird, but I wasn’t flush yet. I’d save the other half for tomorrow’s dinner. In the freezer was a package of pulled pork and some cheap ground beef. A supply of buns, mustard, and cheese, and I’d make it to payday. My one splurge was a burner phone and the cheapest package of minutes—just for emergencies.

Showered and with my belly full, I stretched. My muscles ached in a good way from exertion they hadn’t felt in months, and I picked up the giant paperback I’d been reading. Even if it was pretty dry, I’d started to care what would happen next to the French kid.

I read for almost an hour, but my skin itched, and my chest burned. That fucking hunger was back, and none of Doc’s mantras made it go away. What I felt was deeper than that. Time for Plan B—a walk on the shore. Hopefully, the wind and the waves and the fresh salt air would clear my head.

At the water’s edge, I turned north, moving fast. Longing roiled deep in my stomach, and my pace quickened. Closing my eyes, I was surrounded by a curtain of dark hair, and slim hands kneading the muscles in my shoulders. Soft lips feathered my ear with husky whimpers begging for more, and I stopped walking. I pushed my hands against my head, growling deep, but it didn’t stop the faceless memories tormenting me. I remembered warm thighs circling my waist, and the squeeze of a hot, wet opening pulsing around my dick.

“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath. I pulled off my shirt and shoved my shorts down, stepping out of them and running straight into the water. It was ice cold as I dropped to my knees, plunging my head under the surface and holding my breath until those tormenting memories drowned in the heat of my wake.

Control came seeping back with the bitter cold making its way to my bones, and I waded to shore. Dripping wet, I went to where I’d left my clothes. I was at a pretty deserted section of beach, although I could see in the distance, maybe a half-mile away, one of those bars that fronted on the ocean. Rubbing my hands fast over my torso, I managed to get most of the water off me before stepping into my shorts. I held my shirt for a few minutes, letting the air dry my body a bit longer.

It was a warm night, even though the water was frigid. My calm restored, I listened to the quiet sounds of evening—broken at once by a scream.