SHELBY (Second Chance Novels Book 4) (19 page)

My bare feet slosh through the meadow-yard around my cabin, and I ignore the angry scratches of saw-grass and the blunt pain from hard pebbles beneath me.
 

"SHELBY!" I draw out, desperate now. If anything happens to her, every part of my world will end. How will I breathe, knowing I love her…knowing I failed her?

"SHELBY!"

Suddenly, with the help of another lightning strike, I see shelby hugging herself with her face to the wind. She's about thirty yards from me, and I scan the area for the perpetrator, knowing the hitman wants to draw me into the open. When my blurred, rain-pummeled vision brings no sign of the killer, I see little other choice. I sprint to Shelby's side, my gun at the ready.
 

The rain whips against my skin, surprisingly warm in spite of the wind. I shout her name once more as I get near enough for her to hear. Thunder overpowers my voice, so I shout again.

"SHELBY! Down!"

I run and nearly tackle her to cover her body as she turns in shock at my voice. Panic tightens her features as she allows herself to be pushed to the ground.
 

"Where is he!" I bark, scanning the meadow.

"Dade?" she shouts in total fear.

I keep her under me as I sweep my eyes around the perimeter of our vulnerable position. Confusion complicates my panic. Any professional hitman would have killed us both by now. Thunder and lightning crash violently over us as I look down at a woman in total fear.

"Where is he?" I have to shout over the storm.

"I don't know! …Who?"

"WHO?!" I shout. "The guy that got you out here!"
 

I scan the area again as my peripheral vision takes in Shelby's expression and the rapid shake of her head.

"There's no one here!" she shouts over another rumble of thunder, followed by another nerve-jolting crack of close-by lightning.
 

"What?!" I shout angrily, reality dawning in my brain. "What do you mean there's no one here!"

"I came out on my own…," she still shouts, but with an underlying quiet of guilt.
 

With my panic replaced by anger, I stand and look at her as she stands, as well. "What the hell were you thinking?!" I grit out loudly. "I told you not to go outside!"

Shelby throws her hands in the air in total frustration. "I needed to get out for a fucking minute, Dade! What person would be this far from anything in this kind of weather?"

"A fucking hit man, that's who!"

I stare at the ground and breathe, suppressing my anger and choking down my remaining panic. My adrenaline will not be calmed, and I shout again over the violence of the storm.

"I can't believe you came out here alone! If you need out so badly, tell me! Wake me up! Leave a goddamn note!"

"I needed off the leash as much as I did the air," she shouts, pushing her rain-drenched hair from the wispy waves stuck to her face. I can't help but notice how beautiful she is, so natural and standing strong. Still, I'm incredulous at her words.

"You think I'm a leash?" The insult in her words causes more hurt than I can admit. I can only hope the din of the rain drowns the pain in my voice.
 

"No!" she tries to explain over the storm. "But I haven't been able to make my own decisions in months!"

"And now we see the goddamn reason why!" I bite at her.
 

Even through the rain and whipping wind I can see the tears form in her eyes. I reach for her and she pulls back sharply.

"Don't!" I can barely hear her, but the pain comes through as loud as a stadium-speaker.

I pull her in anyway, and she can't fight me hard enough. She pounds at my chest, but I won't let her go. I can feel her sobs as sharply as I can feel her hits, but I know her. She's not only fighting me and my stinging words, but also her situation.

My brain has come down off the panic enough to think clearly with regards to Shelby's emotions. I grip her tighter and prove she can be taken care of, no matter how destructive she attempts to be, no matter how frustrated I may get with her. I love her either way, and I won't let her go for anything.

Finally, her fists stop and her sobs take over.
 

"I'm sorry," I say across her ear as quietly as I can and still be heard over the thunder rumbling above us. "I'm so sorry."

She looks up at me in such a beautiful mix of need and pain.

"I can't take this much longer," she says in the same form of loud-quiet I used to apologize.
 

"One more day, Shelby. I'll see you through," I promise one more time before I lean down and kiss her with every ounce of my love, protection, and remorse for my earlier words. My lips nearly crush hers with the intensity.

Shelby responds firmly, the strength of our renewed connection rivaling that of the storm. With thunder rumbling and lightning flashing, We pull at each other. I lift her shirt strongly from her frame, and revel in the grip of her hands when she returns them to my body.
 

Her teeth graze my chest as she kisses hard across my pecs with desperate need. A fury matching the thunder pushes us as we grip, kiss, bite, and hold on tighter than I thought would ever be possible.
 

I strip her as quickly as she does me, then right there in the meadow, I drop us down and roll her on top of me. She needs the control more than anything. I know my girl. Willingly, strongly, she straddles my lap and impales herself along my rock-hard cock with a heavy groan of lust and pleasure.

The storm surrounds us with equal power, the pummeling, warm rain dripping over the strength of our connection, the thunder adding to the sounds of our abandon.
 

She rocks her hips over mine in hard, determined strokes, and I guide them harder with my hands. Her nails dig into my shoulders and my teeth find her neck.
 

The overpowering sensation of Shelby's body mixes with the storm to bring me higher than I've ever been. I never imagined this height possible.
 

"God!" Shelby moans out as she throws her head back in total pleasure. "Dade…"

My answering groan spurs her on. She grinds against me as I fondle her strongly, leaning up to suck on those tight nipples of hers. We pump strongly together until both of us scream out our orgasms, exactly together.

We breath heavily as the rain keeps our tension along with it. I take her face strongly in my hands.
 

"I love you, Shelby. There's nothing you can do to change that.
Please
trust me."

She shakes her head and closes her eyes. "It's all too much."

"That's why you give half to me."

She pulls me into a strong hug, her legs still around me and my cock still within her body. I push against her slowly one final time before we simply let the now-steady rain calm our bodies with it.
 

Only an hour later, Shelby is standing at the gas stove cooking rice for dinner to go with the burgers I'm grilling on the grate beside her. The quality of my half of dinner may not match hers due to the fact I'm too distracted by Shelby wearing nothing but a button-down shirt of mine.
Sexy
doesn't begin to describe the vision of her wrapped in me yet another way, spending our evening like a domestic couple. My old-fashioned streak burns bright.

Our private domestic bliss continues to tug at my desire for a life with Shelby. We sit and eat over quiet conversation. She opens up to me more than she ever has, telling me of her childhood and parents. I share with her more about the trial against my sister's killer. By the time dinner is over, all I want to do is connect with her again. I pull her into an unrestrained hug.

She holds on with equal force.

By evening, Shelby is warming herself by the fire and I'm setting up old-school boobytraps to compensate for the lack of modern security options. The longer we're here, the more likely someone could find us, no matter how
un
likely that would be. I employ the classics of silverware hanging from door knobs and trip-wires around the perimeter, also attached to noise-making items I scrounged from around the cabin.

When I return to Shelby's side, I pull her into my arms and rest us into the corner cushions of my russet-colored couch.

"This place is beautiful," she says quietly. "You'd never guess by looking at the cabin that the inside would be this nice."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I focused more in here when I bought the place. I figure the worse it looks outside, the less likely anyone will want to mess with it."

"You think of everything," she smiles softly. "I'm sorry again about this afternoon. I shouldn't have gone out."

"No, you shouldn't have," I tell her again. "I understand why you did, but you can't understand the panic, Shel."

She nods and sinks further into my arms, and I wrap her up with warmth and security.

She remains quiet for a long time before she speaks in a near whisper, and brings up the subject I knew she would once her brain had a chance to process the past forty-eight hours.

"Those marshals got hurt, probably died because of me," she says with tears forming in her eyes as she mourns the loss of the agents assigned to protect her at the safe-house.

"Not because of you.
For
you, Shelby, there's a difference," I try to explain through my own grief. "We all believe in a greater good. There is evil in the world, and you're standing against it, so we stand for you."
 

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. "I'm not worthy of something like that."

"Look at me," I tell her as I turn her toward me. "You
are
worthy, and you don't need to carry any guilt."

I wish I could explain more eloquently, but all I can do is press a strong kiss onto her lips. I allow my tongue to stroke hers in a demonstration of her importance in this world: to the case and to me. Again she allows me to lead. I hold her wrists while I bring her close. I have no need to take her body right now, only to demonstrate her worth and my total dedication to her.

I keep her tight against me as we drift into a long nap. When we wake, I take her to my bed and fall asleep with her again, our sense of security misguidedly strong.
 

I'm such a goddamn fool. I didn't realize how complacent I had become in my arrogant assessment of my own cleverness in hiding her here. At four a.m., panic seizes my gut as the silverware clinks at the utility-room door. FUCK!

Every nerve is on alert and I quickly cover Shelby's mouth so she doesn't scream. She awakens with panic and wide eyes at my blunt rousing, but becomes quickly cognizant enough to allow me to shuffle her to the corner of the room where I silently lift the door into the crawl-space and usher her quickly down. "Don't move," I whisper as I hand her a pistol from a nearby hiding place.

With total silence, I retrieve my trusted Glock from the holster beside my bed and steal myself through the cabin. I have no doubt, now, as to how the killer found us. The nosy curmudgeon across the lake must be in residence this week, and began watching the cabin with his damn telescope the minute he saw smoke from my chimney. He must have seen Shelby outside and recognized her from the news. I don't know who he called, but the evil bastard got ahold of a gossip, a dirty cop, or went straight to the bad guys. Maybe we interrupted his fucking week. One would think he'd enjoy having someone to watch with his set of high-powered binoculars.
 

God
damn
it! If Shelby had only stayed inside…

Those background thoughts gain no footing as my focus remains solidly on my sense of hearing. The total darkness of the early morning shelters him from my eyes, as does the cloud cover lingering from the storm. I'm near certain he'll have night-vision goggles.

I hold myself flat behind a door while I close my eyes and listen more intently than I ever have. Background thoughts continue to tiptoe through hopes that Shelby remains absolutely still and quiet.
 

If the man in the cabin is moving, he's a goddamn ninja. His style of attack exudes patience, which is fine. I can wait him out, and the longer he's still, the longer Shelby is safe.