Captive (27 page)

She shrugged. “I guess so. It’s too rhythmic to be anything else.”

“Maybe he’s using you as a punching bag while he practices his jabs.” He punched the air a couple of times before taking the reins again.

Addy smiled with relief; he was not only in a receptive mood, but a playful one. How long would that last? She gathered up her nerve.

“I’m scared, Max. This baby is coming in twelve weeks and I’m not ready. I don’t know how to give birth. And I don’t know how to care for a baby.”

“We’ll be at the wildlife refuge before then. I’ll find someone to help you.”

She nodded, even though doubt weaved through her mind. How many people lived there? Would they accept outsiders? Would they feel inclined to help?

“What do you think the refuge is like?” she asked.

“I suppose it’s a hard life. Like pioneers in the Old West. Hunting, trapping, struggling for survival. A life of blood, sweat, and tears. And a life far better than what I deserve.”

Her heart ached for him. “How can you say that?”

“Because it’s true.” Tension tightened the muscles in his jaw. His eyes narrowed and then focused on the wolf team. He was on the verge of shutting down. Again.

“No man is a planet unto himself, Max. Please, talk to me.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You know, when you hold captive something that needs to be set free, it turns on you and takes its revenge. Believe me, I know. Let go of your pain.”

He continued looking straight ahead, but his eyes didn’t appear focused on the team or the snowy terrain. He was staring into space, deep in thought. “Suppose,” he began and stopped. “Suppose I deserve its revenge? Suppose I deserve worse?”

“No one deserves what you’ve gone through.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’ve done.”

“You’re wrong about that. Besides,” she said, keeping her tone light, “I can’t know what you don’t tell me.”

“Right.” He was quiet for a moment. “Tell you what. Let’s make an accord. If you don’t change your tune after I open my scars, you get my rations.”

“You’re on.” She reached out her hand to shake on the bet.

“But.” He met her gaze with his. “You have to open your scars first. I’m curious. What pain did you free?”

Judging by his smug expression, Max must have believed he had outsmarted her. He probably figured she’d never confide in him, so naturally he wouldn’t have to confide in her. Didn’t he know women at all?

“Like I said—” she held out her hand “—you’re on.”

With a look of satisfaction, not surprise, he ignored her gloved hand and placed two fingers to his lips repeating the bet. When he was finished he rested his hand on her chest. Could he feel her pounding from his touch?

“Where to start?” she said, and out of habit began picking under her fingernails. It didn’t work so well with gloves on. “Basically, I messed up my mother’s entire life before I was even born. She got pregnant at nineteen, which somehow was my fault, and she resented me ever since. I stole her youth. I scared the man she loved out of marrying her. And I caused her to miss career opportunities.

“My parents were in the Wilderness Rescue. Mom was really good at her job, but her husband was also her superior and wouldn’t allow her to do much because of me. They argued about that a lot. I remember one night she yelled at him that if she hadn’t had a baby, she would’ve had his job years ago and she’d be his superior.”

Strands of hair whipped across her face. She pulled them out of her eyes and tucked them back into the hood of her thermal suit.

“I never got into trouble, had nearly all As in school, made captain of the softball team, but none of it mattered. I couldn’t make her happy. I thought if I was extra good and did everything on my own, maybe she’d...love me.”

Addy swallowed the lump in her throat. “Depending on only yourself for so long makes it difficult to trust others.”

He nodded in understanding. His eyes grew sad and his shoulders rounded. Of all people, Max truly did understand. Sharing this with him made her heart grow lighter.

“I was determined not to wind up like her. Ironic, right?” She cradled her belly, and smiled at the little body parts stretching and moving beneath her thermal suit.

“I’m sorry.” By his tone she knew it was for more than her story. He was sorry she was pregnant.

“Don’t be. In some odd way this baby has actually brought me closer to my mom, if that makes any sense. I understand what she went through now. What she was thinking, feeling. How scared she must have been. Which was probably why she married the first man who came along.

“Don’t get me wrong. My father’s a great guy. He loved me like I was his own flesh and blood. But Mom never loved him and wouldn’t have married him if not for me. A baby changes everything, but unlike my mother I’ve made a decision to embrace that change.”

A gentle touch on Max’s arm made him turn her way. He had to see her eyes. He had to know what she was about to say was the truth.

“I don’t resent this baby.”

*  *  *

Her eyes were genuine. The relief in knowing she didn’t resent his child surprised him. He’d tried so hard not to care. “That’s good,” he said, though he really wanted to ask if she still resented him. But he already knew that answer. Of course she did. “How did you let go of your pain?”

“I forgave my mom.”

“Just like that?”

“It took a while. And the scars are still healing. But I feel so much freer. Like I can start moving forward with my life rather than living in fear of the past.”

Damn, she was a strong woman. “I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can.”

“How?”

Her hand touched his arm again. It wasn’t to gain his attention this time. She already had that. It was to offer support as a friend might do for another. “The first thing you have to do is face your pain. You have to acknowledge it.”

That was the whole problem. He didn’t want to acknowledge it. He’d never spoken about it. Ever. Hell, he’d even blocked it from his thoughts. To remember it would be to live the torture again. But she had opened her wounds and bled for him, and now it was his turn. He’d promised.

Max took in a deep breath and exhaled a long white cloud. “I was nineteen when my cousin set up an adventure trip—hiking, camping, rafting—for two of his buddies and me. My kid brother tagged along, too. My mom almost didn’t let him go at first. He was fourteen and the other guys were college seniors. But he begged, and I promised to watch out for the little dude, so she gave in.

“One night we were in the mountains playing poker by campfire. There were six of us including a hiker who’d found our camp that day. After a few hands, we heard bears in the brush near our site, so we made noise to scare them away.

“Cocky bastard that I was, I shot-put a rock the size of a grapefruit at one. Hit it pretty hard, too. But I just pissed it off. I didn’t understand it then, but I could actually feel its anger all around me. It was like this eerie fog of hatred rolled into the campsite. Someone else must have felt the same freaky thing, because they shouted the mountain was haunted. That’s when Hell broke loose. The bears charged the camp—only they weren’t bears, they were Hyboreans. My cousin’s buddies took off. Four of us stayed to fight but never got the chance. They hit us with tranquilizer darts.

“We woke up in cages with eighty other guys, and were surrounded by aliens. My kid brother was terrified. He clung to me like a burr to a T-shirt. I won’t lie. I was terrified, too. A Hyborean grabbed me and I tried to fight him, but got shocked and taken away.”

Old anger surfaced sharp and raw. He slapped the reins hard and hollered at the team. It wasn’t necessary, but did make him feel better. As did Addy’s hand squeezing his arm for encouragement. He almost didn’t want to continue. When she heard what he’d done, she wouldn’t ever want to touch him again. But he had to go on. He had to purge his soul. Besides, he’d promised.

“I woke inside a filthy Yard crammed full with gladiators and spent the next five years getting the snot beat out of me. I did everything I could to survive. I learned hand-to-hand combat, sword fighting, archery, and anything anyone would teach me. I learned what I could eat, and what could eat me. I analyzed survival races—not so I could win, but so I’d know enough about the planet and the aliens to escape.

“Then one day I’m thrown into a real survival race. This huge guy charges me, hollering. I’ve been practicing for this moment for five years. Pumped up on adrenaline, I throw my spear like a jav. It sailed perfectly. Pierced him dead center in the heart. Killed him instantly. I can still remember that power rush, that exhileration I enjoyed from taking my first life. It was only after the guy fell when I realized he’d been calling my name.

“I—I didn’t recognize him. He had long hair and a beard. He was at least six feet tall with an extra hundred pounds of pure muscle. Alien bastards must have pumped him with ’roids. I couldn’t believe he was the first man I murdered. But there he was, lying at my feet, staring through me with dead eyes.”

“Who, Max?”

“Cameron. My kid brother.”

He’d expected her to scream, to jump away from him, to cry he was a monster. Because he truly was one. What else do you call someone who took the life of his baby brother and gained pleasure from it?

He was supposed to keep Cameron safe.

He’d promised.

Addy didn’t scream or move away. Instead, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. He was too numb to resist. Besides, she felt so good leaning into him. Soft. Warm. If only he could turn to her and hold her and cry on her shoulder like a boy again. But he wasn’t a boy. Hell, he wasn’t even a man. He was a murderous beast.

Cameron had run toward his big brother—his idol—with excitement and relief lighting his eyes, and Max had raced toward his kid brother with Hell’s fury in his. What had Cameron been thinking when Max threw that spear? What had he been thinking when it pierced his heart? He loved his brother. But Cameron would have believed he hated him.

“I prayed every day that Cameron would be reawakened. I’ve searched every Yard I’ve been to. Every race. Every hospital. I’ve never seen him again. I never got to tell him I’m sorry.” The last two words came out as a whisper. The lump in his throat wouldn’t allow anything more.

Addy sniffled. She wiped her nose and the frozen tears from her cheeks. “There’s still a chance he’s out there somewhere. You have to keep faith.”

Max half-shrugged a shoulder. He’d given up on faith a long time ago.

“What about your cousin? Do you know what happened to him?”

“No. Never saw him since the day I was taken from the cage. He wasn’t very athletic. He’d never have survived being a gladiator. I’m sure he’s dead. They both are. Because of me. If I hadn’t gone camping. If I hadn’t provoked the aliens. If I hadn’t thrown that damn spear.” He squeezed shut his eyes to prevent his own tears from falling. Unable to hold his head any longer he let it fall onto his fists.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, stroking his hair. So what if her hands were gloved? Her touch was tender and caring. And it felt so good. He hadn’t been touched like that in a long time. And desire sparked within him.

He wanted to kiss her chapped lips. He wanted to carry her into the tent. He wanted strip her naked and possess—.

Oh, hell.

His vulnerability had weakened him. She had to stop touching him before his animal urges took over. He had to remember he was a beast. If he got too close to Addy or the baby, he would hurt them. He wouldn’t want to, but he inevitably would.

He shot upright, spine straight, jaw set, and heart hardened. “So now do you understand why I deserve my pain?” His gladiator voice sounded reassuring to his ears.

She didn’t appear too taken aback by his sudden attitude change. She hadn’t jerked away from him. But she knew not to touch him, either. She just sat there with her hands under her soccer-ball belly. “No. By my calculations, you’ve overpaid for your sins.”

How could she say that after knowing all his terrible secrets? What made her think he didn’t deserve more pain as punishment for all the beastly things he’s done?

“There’s only one thing more difficult than forgiving someone else, Max.” Her gray eyes turned sober. “That’s forgiving yourself.”

Could he do that? Did he even deserve to do that?

He leaned back to grab the food sack behind him, and then tossed it to her. “You won my rations. Dig in.”

Chapter Thirty-six

S
he dreamed of a hunt. Distant shotgun blasts echoed above the wild, excited barking of dogs. Sleek bodies bound over the arctic desert in pursuit of a little red fox.

In pursuit of her.

Racing over the hard snowy ground, darting this way, zigging that way, she searched for someplace, anyplace, to hide. She found no fallen logs. No burrows to dive down. No hint of refuge anywhere. Endless snow and ice blurred past beneath her furry paws.

A nonnative without generations of natural selection to provide her with a white camouflage coat, she stood out like crimson paint on a bare canvas. Or blood on snow.

And so she ran.

The hounds barked with fervor as they picked up her scent of sweat and fear. Closer behind; their footsteps thundered along with those of a horse carrying a dark hunter. Again the rifle cracked.

She ran harder.

How long could she keep this up? How long before teeth or a bullet sank into her flesh? How long would she suffer before dying?

When fatigue caught her, weighing her down until her legs gave out, she collapsed in the snow.

“End of the road,” the hunter shouted, then, “Whoa.”

A moment later something caught her foot. “Get up, woman.”

Addy jerked awake, heart pounding. Somewhere between sleep and consciousness a harsh beam of light revealed neither dog nor hunter kneeling at her feet, and a pelt—not fur—covering her. Wolves yapped and howled outside the umiak sleigh.

Pop. Crack.

She bolted upright. “What was that? A gun?”

“Ice.” Max handed her the lightstick and ducked back outside. “Time to send the wolves home.”