In the Crossfire (Bloodhaven) (25 page)

“It is. You don’t take that sort of thing lightly.”

“I love her, you know. I want her to have the best life.”

“She will. You’ll make sure of it.”

“I’m also terrified to the bone.”

The confession, Liam knew, couldn’t have come easily. Isobel wasn’t used to admitting fears and vulnerabilities. She didn’t let down her mask for anyone, yet she’d chosen to do so with him. He felt as if the sliver of warmth deep inside his chest had unfurled completely, expanding to encompass his entire body.

He also sensed her real worry. “You won’t hurt her.”

She shook her head firmly against his chest. “I can’t afford to be so confident, or complacent. All it takes is one mistake, letting my guard down just once.”

“Sometimes it’s not about always keeping your guard up. Sometimes it’s about trusting yourself.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

He kissed her forehead. “You’ve taken steps. You’ve sought . . . help,” he stumbled, feeling as he did about the subject, “you
keep
seeking help, and there hasn’t been a repeat incident since. At some point, you have to trust yourself again. You
won’t
hurt her.”

Isobel said nothing for a long time. Then she lifted herself up and leaned over to kiss him full on the mouth.

By the time she let him go, Liam was panting and hard all over again.

She stared down at him, her eyes solemn. “I’m not soft.”

“Yes, you are,” he said at once, giving her ass a squeeze. “In all the right places.”

“I’m not soft, Liam. I’m not the sort of sweet, gentle, lovable woman who’s easy to play the white knight for.”

He recognized the warning—and the plea—implicit in her words. He brushed his knuckle along her cheekbone. “I’m not asking you to be gentle, or to be pliable or in need of rescue. That’s not the woman I fell for.”

She stilled, staring at him. Her eyes darkened.

“You can’t just say something like that,” she whispered.

He slipped his hand through her hair. “I love you, Isobel Saba.”

She buried her face in his neck. To his astonishment, he felt her shudder, the display of emotion deep and visceral. “Break my heart and I’ll hurt you. I’ll hunt you down and break your legs. Cut you open. Then I’ll drag your sorry ass back and never let you go again.”

He stroked her gently, soothing her cat. “My place is with you. It’s only ever with you.”

“I love you.”

“Ah, Isobel. You’ve already slain me wide open.”

She trembled again, then lifted her head. He could see her visibly try to compose herself. “I’ve already told Naley this, but there’ll be times when I won’t be able to tell you a word about what happened during my day. There’ll be times I have to go underground, disappear for days. There’ll be many, many times when I’ll throw myself into danger because that’s the only choice I have left.”

“I know that.” He framed her face with his hands. “I know your job is dangerous, that it has to be in order to keep other people safe. I wouldn’t ask you to stop, not like I’d ask a police officer or a firefighter to stop. All I ask. . . . All I ask is that at the end of the day, you do your damn best to come home safely to me. To me and Naley.”

Her gaze softened. “I can do that.”

He cleared his throat. “There’ll be times when I’ll be short with you, or need to go on a run without you. That doesn’t mean I want you in my life any less.”

She kissed him then, long and slow, a tender mingling of lips and tongue.

The woman didn’t tell the truth, Liam thought. She could be very, very gentle when she wanted to be.

She loved him.

His heart swelled. He wanted to stay in this moment forever.

He was very sorry when she finally lifted her mouth from his. She patted his chest and began to push herself off. “I need a shower, then I have to go visit Jamal. Naley also wants to go to her mother’s apartment so that she can pick up some stuff. She’s eager to start moving in.”

“Mmm.” Liam stroked her spine, not wanting to let her go yet. “Want me to come along? I’m not bad at carrying boxes.”

“Wow, you’re actually volunteering to subject yourself to the general populace? This must be serious.”

His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. “It is.”

Her teasing smile faded. Isobel swallowed, saying nothing, but Liam didn’t need the words. Her heart was in her eyes.

He gently urged her mouth back to his. The taste of her was heady, designed to drive him mad with longing and need. They were both breathing hard by the time they came up for air.

“Yes,” she murmured. “Please come.”

“With you? Always.”

A soft chuckle. “I mean to the city, with Naley and me.” Her hand drifted down to his erection, now thick and long, begging for attention. “Though now that you mentioned it, there
is
that favor I ought to return
.
”

One long stroke elicited a low groan from his throat. “You know, I’ve been dreaming about your mouth for over a year.”

An all-too-feminine smile as she sucked on his lower lip. “That’s a lot of pressure for a girl to live up to.”

He fisted his hand through her hair, holding her head in place as he suddenly glowered at her.

“You’re getting rid of that list,” he snarled.

Another stroke, a light squeeze, and a swirl of her thumb over the head of his already-leaking cock. Liam bucked and hissed.

“Possession goes both ways, wolf,” she said silkily.

“Then we’re in agreement.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She wasn’t afraid to grip him hard. Liam’s hips jerked impatiently, already beginning to pump in her hold. He was out of control, as eager as a schoolboy, out of rhythm with her strokes. Isobel slid down his chest, nipping muscles and licking raised skin. He felt her breathing over his straining flesh, her wet mouth so close and taunting.

Just as her tongue darted out to taste his throbbing shaft, a sharp staccato medley pierced the air.

Isobel was off him at once. Liam cursed, the loudest and most vicious stream of profanities he’d ever uttered in recent memory escaping him as he jolted up. He saw Isobel snatch her phone from her pants on the floor and glance at the screen.

The look on her face told Liam all he needed to know. He swiftly shoved into his jeans while Isobel donned her clothes using one hand, her other hand swiping its thumb across the phone screen.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Intruders.” She strode to the entrance of the cabin and looked to her left. “Two heat signatures.” She tapped twice on her phone before silencing it.

Liam stayed by her side as they glided across the grounds, entering the northeast side of the surrounding woods. He glared around the groves of trees they passed. He was frustrated, on edge, and pissed at the interruption to a very promising interlude, but also because he had a dark suspicion he knew who the two heat signatures belonged to.

They’d found him, then. Only this time, he felt no chill of trepidation at the thought. No, he felt his muscles tensing in anticipation. It was time he came face to face with his packmates. It was time to confront his past.

He wasn’t running this time. This time, he’d have everything out once and for all.

He scented them before Isobel did, but that wasn’t unusual, given his heightened senses that aided in his tracking skills. He caught her attention and indicated to his right with a nod of his head. Without a word, Isobel changed direction. They silently moved through the bushes, moving in tandem as they slipped in between the stippled shadows cast by the forest canopy.

“I told you to go home,” she announced without preamble when they were several feet away.

The leaves betrayed only the smallest of whispers before Connell and Braden stepped out.

The years had not looked kindly on his cousins, Liam noted with dispassion. Connell, the older of the two, appeared weatherworn with his unsmiling craggy face. Gray had invaded his ever-present stubble, and he was thicker around the waist and haunches. Braden still retained his good looks, as well as his arrogance, if the challenge in his upturned chin was anything to go by. Deep furrows formed between his brows, though, and Liam guessed it wouldn’t be too long before he’d follow the way of Connell.

Braden bared teeth on sighting Isobel. Liam noticed his cousin had a slight limp. Fresh, too, by the grimace of pain he made on stepping forward.

Connell stared at Liam, a mixture of awe, relief, and burgeoning ire in his gaze. “M’boy.”

Connell was significantly older than Liam, had always regarded him as a pup to be guided in the right direction. Liam felt a stab of guilt then, for never having sent word over the years to at least let him know he was all right. That he was alive.

“Connell,” Liam acknowledged roughly. He glanced at Isobel, realized he should perform introductions, though of course they’d already met under what had been less than auspicious circumstances. “Isobel, my cousins Connell and Braden Whalen.”

He thought he heard her mutter something about “righty lefty,” but he wasn’t certain.

Connell’s regard turned sharp. His eyes darted back and forth between Liam and Isobel. Liam knew his cousin couldn’t possibly miss the marks he’d put on Isobel’s skin, or the musk of sex that still hovered potently around them.

“A cat, lad?” Connell’s words sizzled with disapproval.

“Couldn’t do any better?” Braden sneered.

Liam growled in warning. Isobel merely bestowed a razor-thin smile.

“How’s the knee?” she asked casually.

The sneer vanished, replaced by unholy fury.

“You know,” she continued placidly, “if you’ve wrapped it in a Med-band without letting a doctor set it first, it’s never going to work the same no matter how many times you shift.”

“I’ll skin you alive,” Braden snarled. “Hang it up to dry and spit on!”

Liam’s growl ratcheted up several notches. “
Back off,
Braden.”

“This why you left us, Liam? For a piece of tail?”

“I mean it, Braden.” Liam stepped up to his cousin, hands fisting in challenge, crowding the other man. No one spoke about his mate that way. He was far taller than Braden, something that had never ceased to irritate the hell out of his cousin. By the angry flash in the younger man’s eyes, some things never changed.

Braden stepped aside. He turned his glare to Isobel. “So you like a canine between your legs, eh?”

Liam struck him.

Braden reeled back, his hand raised to his astonished face. Connell stared slack-jawed as well, but Liam didn’t care. Old memories and frustrations lurched to the forefront.

Doing as he was told, listening to packmates intimidate and threaten the weaker members. Hunching down in silence as they pushed and demanded for him to get his act together, when every night in bed he’d scream and tear at the invisible manacles around his wrists.

The sinews on his arms stood out as his muscles tightened in instinctive reaction. He could barely see above the haze of red.

“Pull back, Liam.”

Isobel’s words were soft but no less effective. Liam subsided. This time he didn’t feel that disorienting crash into present-time, nor the shame. No, he had every right to be angry, and he was fully aware of it.

“You don’t speak to my mate that way,” he uttered in a voice laced full with deadly warning. “
Ever.
”

Connell’s eyes nearly bugged out. “
Mate?
”

Liam’s glare brooked no argument. An oath escaped Connell. Braden, meanwhile, was nearly incoherent with disbelief. Liam couldn’t read Isobel’s expression, and that didn’t sit well with him.

Then she smiled at him—a real one this time, one that met her eyes—and Liam relaxed.

“She’s not your mate,” Connell objected. “We already have your mate, lad. Hailee’s back home waiting for you.”

“Then I suggest,” Isobel cut in coldly, “that she stop waiting.” The look she cast Liam from beneath lowered lashes brimmed with heat and possessiveness.

Liam grinned.

Braden suddenly charged at Isobel with a roar of fury. Liam lunged toward him, but Isobel was already grabbing his cousin by the collar and rolling onto her back, using the momentum to hurl him behind her. He crashed into the dirt.

Liam grabbed Connell before the latter could act. In two seconds Isobel had her knee on Braden’s arms, pinned to his back and preventing him from moving. Her fist yanked his head back by the hair, her other hand holding a blade to his exposed neck.

Without looking up, she said, “I think your packmates like this position, Liam. They all seem to find ways to get themselves into it.”

“Let me go, lad.” Connell half-huffed, half-growled. He pawed uselessly at Liam’s arm hooked around his neck.

Connell had more mass than he did. There’d been a time when he could’ve easily broken away from Liam’s hold. The fact that he hadn’t was what made Liam release him and step back. Connell turned to face him, rubbing his neck, frustrated confusion etched on his craggy face.