SHELBY (Second Chance Novels Book 4) (16 page)

"I'm tired."

"I know," I tell her. "But I'll get bored if you sleep. So tell me about your favorite hack."

Her eyebrows go up sleepily. "You want to know about my hacking?"

"I promise I won't arrest you," I say with a grin, trying my damnedest to keep things as close to normal as I can for her.
 

Her eyes start to drift again.

"Hey," I softly say, but sharply. "Tell me. I want to know."

Her eyes drift open again. "Ok," she says slowly. "It was my first hack. I was in college."

"What did you breach?"

"My professor's computer. Nothing major, but I got in and got the essay question for the final."

I say in mock horror, "You
cheated
?"

She chuckles quietly as her eyes drift closed.

"Stay with me, Shel we're getting close. Can you sit up on the seat now?"

She shakes her head from her safe station on the floor board.

"Ok. So what did you hack after that?"

I can barely keep her in conversation all the way until we reach our destination, but once we pull into the wooded driveway her faculties return.

As I navigate the car down the winding gravel path to an old fishing cabin on Lake Kanovee, I instruct Shelby to sit up on the passenger seat.
 

"We're safe and covered. Come up and look."

Hesitantly she agrees and unfolds her body stiffly from the floor. Her eyes take in the thick cover of the forest in the evening light and she calms visibly. "Where are we going?"

"This is a three-mile driveway to a cabin. I bought the property under a false name, so there's no way to trace our location, at least not quickly. I used the name Charles Miller under a false address, so there's no way to trace us by name. This is my place to escape, and right now it's the safest place on earth. I got you."

The minute we arrive in the car port attached to the cabin by metal poles and a canvas cover, I hear a shaky deep push of air from Shelby's lungs.
 

"We're safe. I'm your hawk, remember? I'm watching over you," I tell her again as I guide her off the floor by her hand.
 

Still in a state of shock, Shelby allows me to guide her from the car and straight into my arms. I tell myself I'm simply helping my witness deal with emotional and physical trauma, but I have a feeling we both know otherwise. If I'm reading her trembling body language, Shelby is terrified, but she knows my need to protect her goes deeper than my job. She has to know.
 

She looks at me in hesitant relief, and I allow myself to gently rub her lower back. I cradle her head against me and dare a kiss to her hair.
 

"Three days, Shel. We can do this."

Her response is to slide her hands around my ribs and hold on tight. My heart is beating hard in my chest, and I'm fairly sure the heady rhythm has nothing to do with adrenaline or panic. With my cheek resting on the top of her head, we take this quiet moment confirming our connection and our need to rely on each other. Honestly, I've never felt this close to anyone in my entire life.
 

I force myself to let her go long enough to guide her inside and directly to the couch.
 

"I need to look at your arm. I'll get the med kit," I tell her. "Right over there."

I point to the end of the kitchen so she'll know I'm not going far. Her eyes remain glassy, but her face betrays the pain finally soaking into her arm. I appreciate my boy scout days for always being prepared. My kit is well stocked, including Novocain and antibiotics.
 

When I get back to her, she seems to be aware of her surroundings more than she was a moment ago.

"Where are we again?" she asks again in a hollow voice. She has little left, and my heart breaks for her. My elation at being her entire world right now gets pushed aside to make room for focus. The sticky, half-dried blood along her arm can be my only point of thought.
 

"My cabin. It's totally private, and no one knows I own it."

She nods blankly, accepting the base truth of her surroundings for the moment.
 

Very carefully I remove her simple tee as she winces, leaving only a soft cotton cami on her torso. I've seen her half-dressed many times over, but this feels somehow more intimate. Tonight it's just the two of us, together, finding our way through difficulty. This is
us
on some level. I wonder if she's thinking the same.

 
The bleeding starts fresh when the shirt pulls at her skin again. Damn it.
 

"Here, put pressure on it while I clean the rest of the area."

I hand her gauze and prepare some warm water with a mild soap solution. Her silence is mixed with an expression of pain, so I work as quickly as I can without causing her more.

"Turn this way," I instruct. Quietly she moves so I can tend to her. "I'm giving you a shot to numb the area while I stitch you up. You're going to feel a pinch," I say as I stick her with the syringe I prepared. She doesn't flinch even though I have to administer several shots. The gash is longer than I thought, but thankfully not as deep.

"How bad is it?" she asks quietly.

"It'll take a lot of stitches, but I won't have to stitch much muscle. Mostly skin."

"Ok," she says. "I'm ready when you are."

"Let's give the shots a few minutes to work. I can clean up more of your arm while we wait," tell her. I work on getting a clean rag and more warm water to get the dried blood off from around the wound. "So how are you doing? Are you ok?"
 

"I'm not sure," she says, which doesn't surprise me too much.
 

"You'll be alright. Once the trial is over, you'll get back to business as usual."
With one exception
, I want to add.
I'll still be there, keeping you safe and keeping you happy
.
 

"Thank you," she says again, her voice softening. "Seriously Dade, this entire ordeal must have been such a pain in the ass for you, and I only made it worse. Thanks for not giving up on me."

I smile to myself as I start stitching. "I would never give up on you, Shel."

"I bet you say that to all your witnesses," she says with sleepy, forced humor.

"Some of them, it's only because I have to. You should see some of the head-cases we deal with."

"Worse than me?" she mumbles, her eyes drifting closed.

"Much worse," I grin. "You're not so bad."

She chuckles a small sound. Her voice sounds more drowsy, though. She's crashing from the adrenaline rush, and now that the pain has eased, nothing is distracting her. Her body and her mind need the escape, and she drifts to sleep right here on the couch. I'm not as worried about shock now that we've had a conversation, so I allow her the rest.

A deep, rhythmic breathing eases peacefully from her chest and I smile again. My brain is still on high alert, but my heart is warmed seeing her rest through the stress. She trusts her safety or she wouldn't be able to sleep at all.

With medical gloves and a sterile package of instruments, I carefully close Shelby's cut, sewing the smallest stitches possible. Seeing the future scar breaks my heart for her. Honestly, I want her entire world to be unmarred. By the time I'm done and bandaging the area, I look down at Shelby's otherwise flawless skin.

Once she's stitched, I carefully pick Shelby up from the couch, causing her to stir and awaken. Shelby, with a numb arm now, is drained completely of any sense of pain, but also any sense of self.
 

"It's ok," I whisper to her as I pat her arm carefully. "That will be numb for a while."

I stand her up and take her into my arms again. She blankly allows me to hold her. I run my hand up and down her back, bringing her a sensation which will hopefully remind her of something good. Eventually, her hands grip at my chest and she pulls herself tighter.

"I got you," I say gently. "I'm not letting you go. I'll see you through this."

I hope my words remind her of the emotion we shared the day I first spoke them. The effect of my words is powerful on her, and seemed to bring her back. She looks up to my eyes, and immediately pushes herself onto her toes, bringing her lips only a hair away from mine. What has been building between us lingers heavily. She needs everything from me right now.
 

Without hesitation, I pull her in and press my lips to hers with a gentle intensity. She returns my kiss with heavy emotion. I can't describe the complexity of the experience. My protective side pulls her close, the man in me wants her desperately, and my heart is squeezed by her need for my connection.

Not a single ounce of our moment is contrived, nor has room for past hurts to mar the honesty of our kiss. We've been building to this moment for months. I'm not using her, and she is not allowing herself to be used. Simply stated, she needs me and I can give her
exactly
everything
. We have no need to hold back in our solitude; protocol no longer exists.
 

I lift her soft cami. She looks me in the eye as I do, and I see her eyes staring into me, confirming our connection and her need to be grounded in something real. She lifts her arms for me, and I pull the blood-stained fabric over her head, ridding the evidence of our traumatic afternoon.
 

The sight of her already-bare breasts entices me with their absolute perfection. I arch her away from me and gently suck one perfect, tight, pierced nipple into my mouth. Shelby breathes a shuddering sound of eased tension and budding pleasure. I swirl my tongue for her and pull her nipple deeper into my mouth, toying with her sexy piercing with my tongue.
 

With my lips caressing her breast firmly, I grip along her back, unable to keep my need in check. Her other nipple begs for my attention, and my compliance brings another pleasured breath from her beautiful chest. My God, I've waited too long to experience her, and the connection is more emotionally and physically intense than I had imagined it could be.
 

With strong arms, I stand her in front of me again and I gather her wrists in my hands. I pull them behind her back and keep them there while I kiss her perfect lips again, deepening our connection. I grip the base of her arms tight, and I won't allow her to pull away at her gentle tug.

I swear, every minute together so far has been nothing but verbal foreplay. Part of me knows this is unbearably wrong, but I have no will to stop. I wish I had time-stamped the moment she became my assignment so I could calculate down to the nano-second how long it took us to get here.

Her wide eyes search mine once she breaks the kiss, and my innate knowledge of her is confirmed. Shelby needs intimacy more than oxygen. She's been too long without, and I see her need to be cherished.
 

Her heart begs to let go of control, so she can let her mind free-fall without fear. She allows me to catch her. Her deepest desire is for her body to be lead, to be saved from responsibility and destructive thoughts during moments of intimacy and pleasure. I'm taken back that this new reality is stronger than every fantasy I've entertained about her.

With her trust in me at its peak, she becomes a beautiful form of clay in my arms. Her mind, body, and spirit are ready to be reshaped into a form free from emotional pain and months of negative decisions.

"I got you," I whisper to her again before I pull her arms around my neck and lift her light frame by her hips. She clings to me with her legs as I walk her to my bed.
 

The instant I lay her down, I pin her hands wide beside her and kiss her neck strongly. She responds with total, quiet submission as she gives herself over to all we've been too close to sharing before. The moment is perfection for both of us. I've wanted to guide her this way for so long, and she allows me to.

I spend a decadent amount of time kissing her, pinning her arms in different positions as a simple promise I'll keep her locked in my safety and understanding of her.
 

Her sounds of deep pleasure and desire build with each tight grip of my strength. I lace my fingers through hers and pin her arms solidly against the end of my bed.