Running Scared (35 page)

Her deception made Jon feel sick, his emotions raw and tender at the knowledge that she’d controlled and manipulated his life all these years, hiding the things that were most important. He was in no mood to actually go to school now, but he didn’t have much choice. On a frozen autumn day in Hopewell, Oregon, there weren’t a lot of recreational options for kids cutting school.

He would get on the bus, keep his head down, eyes on the ground, and push through the day. Basic survival was the only plan for a day like today. His feet scraped the ground, the toe of his sneaker rolling a handful of pebbles down toward a white van on the side of the road. Some guy kneeled beside it—no one Jon recognized. The man was working a jack under the van, just replacing a tire.

Seeing that no traffic was in sight, Jon cut a wide swath around the van, stepping onto the black tar roadway.

“Pretty cold morning,” the man called cheerfully. His breath lingered in puffs before his face.

“Yeah.” Jon walked past the van as a few snowflakes sank through the air. Snow…what else could go wrong? An inch or two of snow and they’d close the school, sending him home to have to deal with her…his so-called mother.

“Hey, can you give me a hand?” the man asked, interrupting Jon’s thoughts.

Jon turned and saw that the man was now in front of the van, tire iron in one hand. He wore a belted leather coat—one of those long coats that came down to his knees. The guy had to be a city slicker, not from around here.

“I have to catch my bus,” Jon said, gesturing down the road. The man’s smile was making him uncomfortable.

“I don’t think so, Jon,” the man said, quickly pushing back his coat and pulling something from his waistband.

A gun…pointed right at Jon.

Jon’s throat went dry. Shit! “How do you know my name?”

The man nodded toward the back of the van. “Get in. We’ll have time to talk inside. Plenty of time.”

Quickly, Jon weighed his options. He was a fast runner. If he made a break for it, he could be down the road in seconds, darting off the roadside to hide behind trees or bushes. He was fast…but a bullet was faster, and the ditch at the roadside was too steep to cross. He’d be trapped down there, a clear target.

He strained to hear the rumble of an approaching car, the hum of tires on pavement, but there was only silence. A passing car could save him now, but who was going to be heading this way at this time of the morning? Sure, the school bus would pull by the intersection ahead, but that was a good half mile away, out of sight.

His eyes swung back to the gun, the metal pistol aimed at his heart and coming closer as the man approached.

“Got a problem, kid?” the man said, striding toward him. Keeping the gun trained on Jon’s chest, he reached down and snapped something over Jon’s right wrist. “Hands in front of you,” he ordered, and when Jon raised his arms, he watched as the cuff was clipped over his left wrist.

Handcuffs.

The sight sent him reeling back to the vision. Oh, God.

His throat grew tight, knowing the future, knowing that his wrists would become red and raw from trying to writhe out of these things. It would hurt like hell, but he’d have to try. He had to get away from this man, because everything in his gut told him this guy was the one chasing him in his nightmares.

The killer.

Oh, God. This was the man…the gun…

His heart pounded, his pulse thrumming at the realization that this was the man who wanted to end his life.

“That’s better,” the man said, his tone light, as if they were talking about the weather. “Things’ll go a hell of a lot better if you follow along, Jon. Now, into the van.” When Jon approached the passenger door, he shook his head. “Nah, no death seat for you, kid. You’re riding in the back. I told your grandfather I’d take good care of you. Luxury accommodations all the way.”

“My grandfather?” Jon said. “He’s been dead a long time. You got the wrong person, man.”

“You Jon Summers?” the man pulled open the back door of the van. When Jon nodded, he said, “Then you’re mine now, kid. You’re all mine.”

Glancing into the van, Jon felt fear stab through his chest at the sight of the bars separating the front seat from the back.

Here was the metallic cage…the dark tinted glass…the horrors of his vision.

His nightmare was unfolding before him.

He had seen his own death in his dreams, and now his life was collapsing around him.

“Come on, kid,” the man said, shoving Jon into the darkness. “We’ve got miles to go before we sleep.”

I will always remember this day,
Kate thought as she watched Daegan saddle both horses. First Jon learning that he was adopted, and now Daegan leaving…it was too much to absorb, too much difficult emotion jam-packed into a short period of time. As soon as Kate had called the college, they’d driven over to Daegan’s place, where he’d filled a thermos with coffee and started saddling the horses, despite the cold temperatures. Inside the old McIntyre barn, away from the wind, it was warmer, but the animals snorted nervously as their hooves pawed the straw in anticipation of the cold outside. Bridles jangled as Daegan snapped them into place.

“If you haven’t noticed,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously as he packed the thermos into a battle-scarred saddlebag, “it’s snowing outside.”

He shrugged. “A few little flakes. Nothing to worry about.”

“Nearly a blizzard,” she protested.

He buckled the saddlebag and extra blanket behind the saddle, then threw her a look over his shoulder. “Not in Montana, it isn’t. Come on, let’s get you better acquainted with Loco, here.”

“I should have my head examined,” she muttered under her breath but followed him outside. He rode Buckshot and she settled into the gray’s saddle, following the colt through a gate to a longer field that wound up through the foothills.

The wind was chill against her back, but there was an air of exhilaration about riding through the snow-crusted fields and across a small creek that was nearly frozen. Only a trickle of water still gurgled over ice-covered rocks.

Daegan sat tall in the saddle, reining in the nervous colt, keeping to a steady path that curved past a thicket of naked trees far from the house. Twisting upward through a narrow draw, the trail cut through the steep hills to level at a ridge overlooking the valley. Far below she saw her house, snow piling on the roof.

Daegan helped her off, spread a bedroll over the ground, and poured coffee into the metal cup of the thermos. “I discovered this place the second week I was here. Seems like a good spot to unwind.”

“And why would you need to ‘unwind’?” she asked, the warmth of her cup seeping through her gloves.

“Everyone does. Thought it might help you today.”

“And the day is yet young.” She laughed without much mirth. “What is it, not quite nine-thirty, and it already seems like a torture that’s gone on for hours?”

He grinned that sexy off-center smile that caused her heart to skip a beat, then took a swallow straight from the thermos. “Things can only get better.”

Not when I know you’re leaving.
“Oh yeah, how?”

“You want me to show you?”

She licked her lips. “Show me what?”

“This.” His lips were feather-light and laced with coffee as they slid over hers. “And this.” He set his thermos in the snow, took the cup from her fingers and wedged it up against the root of a tree, then wrapped his arms around her. Gazing into her eyes, he settled his mouth over hers, and a part of her, a vital, very feminine part, responded. He made no promises, told her no lies, but kissed her so hard she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

Snowflakes fell from the sky, catching in his hair and on her eyelashes, and yet her skin was warm, her heart a wild drum, the ache deep within her beginning to pulse. “Kate,” he mouthed against her skin. “Kate, Kate, Kate.”

His voice cracked and she nearly cried. He was leaving and she couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again, never touching him, never hearing his voice. She kissed him desperately, her hands holding his face, her eyes burning with tears.

Don’t leave me,
she silently begged, though her pride wouldn’t allow her to whisper so much as a tiny plea. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, the shell of her ear, and she quivered inside, wanting more, kissing and touching and tasting him, believing that this crystalline morning was the last time she’d ever feel like a woman, ever have a chance to make love with him.

Gaze still locked with hers, he yanked off his gloves with his teeth and his fingers found the zipper of her jacket. It slid quickly open and Kate didn’t protest, but helped him shed the unwanted denim. He trembled as she kissed him back, her tongue finding his, her passion colliding with his, her heart thundering in a shared cadence with his.

Groaning, he lifted her sweater over her head then slid the strap of her bra over her arm to free her breast. Snowflakes collected on her bare skin and he kissed them away before the powdery sprigs of ice could melt.

“Daegan,” she cried as cold air blew over her nipple and it puckered. His tongue, hot and slick, rimmed the anxious bud. “Please,” she cried, bowing upward, tangling her fingers in his thick hair, wanting so much. She ached inside with yearning, a throb so deep it pulsed in the darkest part of her.

Finally his lips clamped over her nipple and she cried out as he suckled hard and firm, pulling and drawing while his thumb teased her other breast.

The world began to spin as his tongue tickled and teased.
Love me, oh, Daegan, please, just love me!
His fingers skimmed her skin as they moved lower to the waistband of her jeans. With a quick hiss the zipper gave way and he slid his fingers over her skin, shucking off her jeans to delve beneath the elastic of her panties, skimming hot fingers over the nest of curls at the juncture of her legs. Her hips lifted of their own accord and he kissed her there, through the nylon, hot breath against cold skin and moist curls.

“Be patient, darlin’,” he drawled through the lacy fabric. “We’ve got all day.”

But Kate was ready. It had been so long, so very long since she’d made love to a man, and now that she knew this was her one chance, her only chance to love Daegan, she couldn’t stop herself.

She shuddered as his fingers grazed her skin and delved. She cried out, feeling hot as warm honey where he touched her, and when he finally stripped her of that last flimsy barrier, she couldn’t wait. “That’s my girl,” he said, his breath whispering deep inside her as he kissed her lovingly in her most intimate of places, his tongue playing with the bud of desire that welcomed him.

He lifted her knees onto his broad shoulders, and slowly, drawing out her exquisite torture, he kissed and touched her. She was swept in a whirlpool of sensation, and her heart, drumming so loudly she thought it might burst, was a wild thing. “Let go,” he murmured and she did. The world tilted and stars flashed behind her eyes. She bucked and cried out and slowly he released her, stripping himself of shirt, jacket, and jeans, laying his long, sinewy body over hers, kissing her so hard she was sure she would die.

Her fingers explored him, touched him where she never would have dared, thrilled by the textures of hair, bone, and muscle as he came to her, parting her legs, prodding her with his erection, delving deep into her very soul with that first, mesmerizing thrust.

“Love me, Kate,” he cried, thrusting hard enough to force her to catch her breath before withdrawing slowly. “Love me.”

“I do,” she cried, tears falling from her eyes as he buried himself in her again. “Oh, Lord, Daegan, I do.” And his tempo increased, faster and faster, harder and harder, hotter and hotter, he moved, gritting his teeth, holding back, denying himself until finally she convulsed. And then with a cry as wild and raw as the storm surrounding them, he poured himself into her and collapsed, sweat sheening his corded muscles as he fell against her.

Kate clung to him, her passion spent, her mind still dizzy with the colors of a kaleidoscope. Why was she fated to love this man who had come a stranger and in the course of a few short weeks become her lover?

He kissed her and she blinked against the wash of tears and the snow still falling from a gunmetal sky. “Better?” he asked.

“Mmm.” She stretched languidly and watched as his eyes, so recently glazed with passion, focused on her face.

Silently he toyed with a strand of her hair. “This was probably a mistake.”

“There’s no probably about it.”

He glanced to the heavens, then closed his eyes and rolled off her. “I didn’t mean for things to go so far.”

Already he regretted making love to her!
Disappointment shot through her, and her pride, so battered earlier, came back full force. She didn’t lament a single kiss; if he was leaving, she wanted something to remember him by. “Neither did I.”

“But I wouldn’t change anything.”

Relief swept through her and he kissed her softly on the cheek. She shivered and he gathered her into his naked arms, kissing her crown as the breeze teased at her hair. His naked chest, all tough, rigid muscle, pressed hard against her. He held on tight, as if he was afraid of losing her, as if he, too, wanted to deny the horrid truth that he was leaving.

“You’re one helluva woman, Kate Summers,” he whispered. “I never expected this. Never.”

She nearly sobbed as she clung to him, and when his lips found hers once more, she was eager, hungry, anxious to join with him again, to prove deep in her heart that their attraction was more than physical, that theirs was a spiritual and emotional melding as well.

She thrilled to his touch, and this time she touched him everywhere, her fingers brushing across the hard wall of muscles that was his chest, to tease his flat nipples. He groaned and kissed her so breathlessly she could hardly think, then she reached lower, feeling the curve of his spine, his buttocks, his legs…“Sweet Jesus,” he whispered, half in prayer, as she slid her fingers around his erection and soon he could stand the torturous pleasure no more. He pulled her on top of him and lifted his hips to pierce her. She folded over him and he cried out in ecstasy, then savagely thrust again, holding her close, his mouth and tongue finding her breasts, licking, kissing, teasing, suckling as he made love to her.