Masters 02 Master of the Abyss (29 page)

And Wyatt exploded. “Son of a fucking bitch. Didn’t Pa ever talk to you?” He stomped over—her grumbly cousin—and glared down at her. “Pete lost his job, dammit.” He inhaled slowly, and the anger faded from his face. “Cuz, he got laid off, and they had four kids and you. They couldn’t pay the mortgage and had to move in with his sister. Two families in a one-bedroom apartment. On food stamps. Pa tried to give them money, but you know Uncle Pete, a real hard-ass about being a man.”

Kallie stared up at him as he shoved his hands through his hair. “They had a fight with Pa over the phone. They didn’t want to let you go, but it sounded like they were going to end up on the streets. Pa was yelling that he’d be damned if he’d let his niece starve.”

She hadn’t done anything wrong?
It wasn’t me
? Her lungs constricted until she couldn’t get any air. Wheezing, she grabbed Jake’s hand and heard him curse. He sat her up, an arm around her waist.

“Breathe, Kalinda. Pull it in. Slower.” His deep voice held her, made her listen, and there was air again, though her insides felt…wrong. Like her chest had filled with broken fragments and nothing lined up right inside.

She still gripped his hand so rigidly her knuckles hurt.

“No, don’t let go.” He kept her fingers in his, so strong. “Take another breath. Bad day—I’m not surprised you got a panic attack.” His easy laugh reassured her more than anything else could, and she sagged back against him. And looked up to see her terrified cousins crowding around her.

Wyatt broke first. “Jesus, fuck. Don’t—don’t ever scare me like that again.” He dropped to his knees and set his big hand on her leg. The muscles in his face were drawn. “Dammit, Kallie.”

“I didn’t…didn’t know.” She tried to smile. “I thought Teresa made Uncle Harvey take me. And you had to put up with me because he told you to.”

“No wonder you were such a mouse when you got here.” Virgil was on his knees now too, his face strained. “We wanted you, Kallie.”

Morgan’s laugh sounded more like a croak. “When Pete got a job, they tried to get you back, but you were ours.”

“Pa said not to tell you about how he and Teresa had stopped talking. He said you had such a soft heart that you’d feel bad having people fighting over you.” Virgil touched her cheek gently. “God, little bit, don’t you know how much we love you?”

In her chest, the splinters slowly merged, pulling together into a lumpy but complete whole. “I-I…” Her lips started to quiver.

“Hell, cuz,” Morgan said, his voice ragged, “the only fighting in our family has been because everyone wanted to keep you.”

“Teresa finally forgave Pa when you graduated, but…” Virgil’s brows drew together. “Is that why you never visited them on your vacations? You didn’t think they wanted you?”

She nodded, her throat too clogged to speak.

Wyatt choked out a laugh. “Well, stupid, I guess you’ve got a lot of visiting to do.”

They loved me. Everybody loved me
. She couldn’t—couldn’t—A sob wrenched out of her, and she only had a second to see the horror crossing her cousins’ faces before Jake turned her, holding her like a baby to cry against his strong shoulder.

“There we go, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. Get it all out now, sugar.”

Her chest hurt with each horrible cry, one for each year she’d felt alone. Unloved. Abandoned.

Wanted
. They’d wanted her. Teresa and Pete and Penny and Charlie. Harvey and Virgil and Morgan and Wyatt. All of them. As her tears slowed, she realized one of Jake’s big hands cradled her head against him; the other stroked her shoulders.

God, she loved him. She raised her head and bit the words back just in time. Hadn’t she learned anything?

The pang that shot through her hurt all the more because she felt whole.

* * *

After tucking Kallie into her bed, Jake had gone downstairs and talked to the brothers, suggesting counseling to help her integrate everything that had happened, from murder to family. He remembered how Logan had benefited from help, although they couldn’t perform miracles—especially with someone as mulishly stubborn as his brother.

Still shaken, the Mastersons agreed. While they were acting so agreeable, he considered pushing his claim to be part of Kallie’s life and decided he shouldn’t kick a man when he was down.

Not that they had time for a fight. The cops claimed Virgil, although before he left, he made an appointment for Jake and Logan to come in to the station for interviews. Outside the house, cops milled everywhere like a kicked-over ant heap. Ugly business, bringing a corpse down a trail at night, and Jake was pleased his sprite couldn’t see it.

But when he ran up to check on her before leaving, she was still awake. Still trembling. So he joined her on the bed, holding her and ignoring her protests.

As the minutes ticked by, he watched over her until her breathing slowed. Deepened. A warm, soft weight in his arms.

With a sigh of relief, Jake brushed a lock of hair from his little sub’s cheek. Not as pale. Her shaking had stopped. His hadn’t—he still felt as if his world hadn’t steadied yet. He’d loved women before, but not like this, never like this. Wanting nothing more than to protect her from everything that might harm her. Wanting to bury himself inside her and yet wanting only to have her sleeping in his arms.

He needed to hear her laugh though. Soon.

Chapter Fourteen

Jake had gone home by the time Kallie awoke, and loneliness had sheered through her so hard she almost started crying. Again. Shoving it back, she’d taken a shower, making it cold enough to wipe out any warm and fuzzy feelings.

She and Wyatt and Morgan had spent the rest of the day talking to the police and doing chores. Thank God for chores. She’d actually argued with Wyatt for the privilege of turning over the compost heap.

After the cops and all had finally left, she’d cooked supper despite her cousins’ attempts to help. She might have found their bumbling efforts to show how much they loved her funny if they hadn’t also made her want to cry.

Of course, all that sweetness and light hadn’t lasted long, and now they were faced off in the entry, with Morgan and Wyatt blocking her escape.

Even the night air wafting in the open front door couldn’t cool Kallie’s annoyance. She glared at the two, then glanced to her right. “Virgil?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Absolutely not.”

Three against one
. What was fair about this? “Absolutely so.”

“Knock, knock.” Jake appeared in the doorway and rudely shoved Wyatt and Morgan aside so he could step in. His gaze took in the room. “Standoff at the OK Corral?”

“Something like that,” Virgil said.

Jake smiled at her, then obviously noticed the backpack at her feet. Now one more person scowled at her. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going for a walk.”

“At night? And where were you planning to walk?”

“That’s none of your—” She stopped when he raised his chin just an inch. Damn him. “Fine,” she muttered. “I’m going back up the mountain.”

“No, you’re not,” Wyatt said loudly for the hundredth time, and Morgan echoed him.

Jake didn’t say anything. He studied her for a second, rubbed his hand over his cheek and chin, and then pulled in a slow breath. “Tell me why.”

How could she not love him? He had all the protective instincts of her cousins—that knee-jerk need to insist she stay where she was safe—but he throttled them back and asked her why—well,
ordered
her. But he would let her explain, and he’d listen in that way of his, focused completely on her…and waiting with relentless patience.

But would he understand? “I…” She searched for the right words and tried again. “This is my home, the mountain is”—
part of who I am
—“my shelter. All the years I’ve lived here, that’s where I went when I was upset or mad or…”
Lonely
. “But now the thought of being up there is terrifying.” She showed him the way her fingers trembled. “I need to go back, to know that I can, that it’s still my place. Now—at night. And before I think about it too much.”

A long moment passed before he gave her a faint smile. “I’m not sure I understand, but I was raised on a ranch. Getting back on the horse that threw you is a cowboy law. But I’m going with you.”

“No, you are not,” Wyatt told him and then abandoned the door to loom over Kallie. “And you’re going nowhere, cuz.”

She ignored him. “Jake. You don’t need to—”

He stroked a hand over her hair, slow and comforting. “Of course I do. Now deal with your family.”

Family
. Just the word sent a thrill through her heart and gave her strength enough to face them. God, she loved them—Wyatt with all his bluster, Morgan with his silence, Virgil with his strength—and they loved her. She knew that now.

“I need to do this, guys,” she said firmly and held up a hand to silence Wyatt. “You can’t stop me.”

Virgil raised one eyebrow, and a crease appeared in one cheek.

Morgan shoved Wyatt over to glare at Jake. “Maybe, but we can keep you from going with him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Morgan, did I stop you from dating that blonde bimbo with the brains of a gnat?”

He reddened.

“Wyatt, do I interfere in your life when you bring women back here? Even when you have two at a time?”

“That’s different. I’m—”

“I’m a woman. And have been for a long time.” She smiled sweetly at each cousin in turn. “Everyone’s equal in this house, remember? What I got, you got—and vice versa. I don’t interfere in your love life; you don’t get to interfere in mine. I don’t tell you how to dress; you don’t complain about my clothes.”

The deepening scowls made her step back. Her determination wavered. What if they decided they didn’t love her, if they wanted—

“Jesus fucking Christ, don’t look at us like that.” Virgil gripped her shoulders and gave her a shake. “Yell at us and throw things, bring home every lowlife in Bear Flat, wear bikinis all day long, just don’t ever, ever look at us like you doubt how we feel about you.”

Oh. Okay.

Wyatt looked shaken for a moment and then crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, I might love you, but I don’t know about you bringing home a lowlife.”

“I love you, Wyatt,” Kallie said, watched his face go soft, and then she slapped him upside the head. “And I’ll bring home who I want.”

* * *

The moon had risen, three days past full, and lent additional light as they moved up the mountain. Their flashlights glimmered on dark tree trunks that seemed to press far too close to the trail. As every injury from yesterday ached, Kallie felt a twang of guilt that Jake had taken her pack to carry. Every time he shifted it, she remembered the club hitting his shoulder. Then again, her hip really, really hurt, and she’d probably have dumped the damn thing on the side of trail by now.

Seemed like he always showed up when she needed help, even when she didn’t know she did. She carefully avoided thinking about anything other than having his friendship. They could be good friends. Really.

And she had something she needed to do. She stopped and turned to look at him. “Thank you for yesterday. Not just for saving my life”—she grinned at him—“although I really do appreciate that, but afterward too. To know why I was sent away…and that they loved me…it helps. I owe you.”

“I think we’re even. Seems like a little sub called me names and forced me to see things in a new light.”

She winced. She’d called him a pussy, hadn’t she? “You’re not mad?”

His lips quirked. “We need to work on your confrontational skills a tad. But I needed to hear it. Thank you.”

Relief lifted her spirits. He didn’t hate her for her blunt words.
See? Friends
. Unfortunately, as they continued up the trail, her comfortable feeling fell prey to her memories of violence. Screaming. Death.

By the time the turnoff appeared, she’d started to cringe at the tiniest rustle in the brush. Although her brain recognized the sound of a mouse out for a night snack, the rest of her panicked. Soon the memory of the monster’s roar overwhelmed the sound of Jake’s limping footsteps behind her.

Her knees shook from more than exhaustion as she stopped at her rocks. They lay in an ugly mess, no longer spelling out her name. Maybe she should consider it a sign she didn’t belong here. Shoulders slumping, she started to step over them. Jake made a noise, low in his throat, and she stopped.

As she stared down, moonlight colored the rocks with silver. She inhaled slowly. The murderer had scratched out her name, not her cousins. Not her
family
. She did belong here. Setting her jaw, she crouched and put the stones back into their places until her name shown clearly again. KALINDA.

My place.

Jake smiled, and the warmth from his understanding pushed a little of the chill away. His unspoken protest had made her stop and think. But he hadn’t interfered after that. She’d made her own remedy, and he’d stood by in silent support. As he did now.

With that reassurance, she was able to turn and move down the tiny path toward the creek.

A little while later, she stood in the small clearing. Aside from trampled grass, no sign remained of the violence. And yet she kept seeing the murderer stalk out of the trees. When she turned, she saw Virgil helpless on the ground. She heard the thud of a club impacting flesh. A dog’s yelp.

A warm hand closed on her shoulder, and she shuddered. Jake set the pack down and pulled her close. She laid her cheek on his broad chest and heard only the slow beat of his heart. The solid feel of him let her breathe again. Almost as if he shared from his own vast stores, courage flowed into her, strengthening her resolve.
I can do this
. No asshole monster would take this place from her.

She pulled back and stood on her own two feet. When Jake tilted his head, she nodded firmly. “I can do this.”

“I have no doubt. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”

The conviction in his voice stunned her. Strong? She bit her lip, captured her self-image again.
Damn right, I’m strong
. “I need to be alone.”