Rules of Survival (Entangled Embrace) (13 page)

“My arm is starting to hurt,” I complained once Shaun had been under the water for a few minutes. The way I had to hold it, stretched and twisted behind me, was starting to cause pins and needles. His T-shirt hung from my end of the cuffs, since, like mine, without ripping it, there was no way to get it on and off, and his jeans were in a pile on the floor to my left.

A moment later, the water turned off, and I heard the thin curtain move aside, along with rustling fabric. Luckily the dealership had gone all out, decking the demo with all the comforts of home. Two matching towels and a small container of shampoo, right along with a tiny yellow rubber ducky sitting on the sink. “Feel free to turn around,” he said.

So I did, thinking he’d finished getting dressed. And he had—sort of.

His hands were at the waist of his jeans, doing up the button. They were just a bit too big, and hung from narrow hips in a way that accentuated the definition of his muscles. And holy shit, were those muscles defined.

His shirt still hung from the chain, and with the better quality of light than in the feed store, I could finally see his ink clearly. There was a black phoenix rising from a river of fire on the upper right-hand corner of his chest, spilling onto his shoulder and neck. That’s the one I’d caught a glimpse of when he’d first come into the cabin. Then, in addition to that, there were two different Chinese symbols, one over his heart, and another above his navel. The one above his navel was slightly warped, though. The ink around the top edge seemed distorted, but without a closer look, I couldn’t tell why.

“Survival and strength,” he said quietly, setting the towel down. He pulled the T-shirt up along the chain and stretched across to run the sleeve under the water. It was splattered with blood from his wound.

He knew I was watching, and I should have turned away, but I couldn’t do it. Obviously he was nice to look at, but there was something about the way he spoke, a pitch in his voice that drew me closer. “Survival,” I repeated, eyes dropping to the tattoo above his navel. “That one, right?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

Yeah. Survival. That was all my life was about. Go here. Hide there. Rinse, repeat. I hated it. I deserved more than that. Even if it was just this once.

The words came out before I could think. “Back on the road, you kissed me,” I said.

“Yeah,” he replied, voice slightly hoarse.

My heart threatened to beat right from my chest, pulse making it nearly impossible to catch my breath. Every moment in my life from here on counted tenfold. I had no idea what tomorrow would bring. “Do you want to do it again?”

Silence.

My heart went from erratic to still in half a beat, and I felt the rush of warmth, embarrassed beyond words that I’d actually said it out loud. I started to turn away, but something warm closed over my forearm.

“That is the stupidest fucking question anyone has ever asked me,” Shaun said, maneuvering himself to stand in front of me. “I wanna do it again. I
really
wanna do it again.”

I could be dead in eight hours, or behind bars in twelve. The only thing I had, without a shadow of a doubt, was right now. This moment. “Then do it,” I demanded. “Kiss me.”

A war raged behind his eyes. He made a move, then froze, fingers gripping the edge of the sink. “It’s not that simple, Kayla.”

I didn’t respond.

He slammed his hand against the sink, then took a deep breath. “You’re—we’re chained together.” One good shake of his fist and the shackle chains rattled and clinked. “You’re vulnerable and not thinking clearly. This isn’t what you want.”

A wave of boldness washed over me. I lifted my hand and traced the outline of the tattoo above his navel, then trailed a finger upward, across the center of his chest, and wrapped my hand around the back of his neck.

“It’s just a kiss,” I said, repeating his words from earlier. They’d bothered me then, but now seemed insignificant. Petty. Since getting shackled to Shaun, I’d been forced to take things minute by minute. Less planning and more reacting. I liked it. I liked living in the moment. Needed it. There was a chance this would be the only freedom I would ever experience. I wasn’t about to let it slip away without taking full advantage. “Unless, you know, you didn’t like it.”

His eyes widened. “Didn’t—are you nuts?”

“Then what’s stopping you? I’m giving you my permission. Kiss me,” I demanded. An electric sensation coursed through me. A feeling of control in an otherwise random world.

“I can’t. We—” He squeezed his eyes closed, then opened them, hands coming up to grip my shoulders. Eyes on mine, he stayed like that for the longest time, just looking. Breathing. I saw his resolve breaking apart. Watched the wall crumble, brick by brick, until there was nothing left between us but what we both obviously wanted. “Fuck it.”

Chapter Fourteen

This kiss wasn’t like the one on the road. It was hungrier. Needy. It ignited a fire in my belly that drifted lower, inciting a wave of euphoria like nothing else I’d ever experienced. I clung to him, desperate to hold on to it as long as possible, because this… This was living. This was the spark I’d been deprived of.

Shaun’s arms encircled my waist, hefting me onto the small bit of counter space, all without breaking contact. He took my bottom lip between his, tugging slightly, then ran his tongue along it. The feeling was so intense I gasped, surprised by it, arms tightening and fingers digging into the soft skin of his back.

He didn’t seem to mind. He chuckled, bringing his hands to either side of my face and deepening the kiss. “Like that, huh?”

In response, I wrapped my legs around his waist and arched my back. There was a low noise, from deep in his throat, and a second later, his hands came around to my back, sliding down and slipping beneath my bottom. The chain rattled. It pulled taut, my left arm dragged to the side, as he lifted me from the counter and maneuvered us from the small space.

“You need to say it,” he breathed into my mouth as he backed us toward the bed. “Tell me to stop, because this could get outta control fast.”

I didn’t want him to stop.

“Kayla,” he said, pulling away to nuzzle the hollow of my throat. A second later, his teeth grazed the skin. He inched forward and set me down, and I felt the edge of the bed behind my legs. “Speak up. Please,” he begged.

“I like the way your hands feel on me, “I whispered.

Brutal honesty. Raw and stark. Being around Shaun made my brain malfunction. My secrets were slipping out, and my feelings bled through. It was anarchy and peace all in the same chaotic package, and at that moment, I would have given anything to make it last forever.

“I’ve never felt so alive.” I shifted to kneel on the thin mattress. “I’m not ready to go back to feeling hollow. Not yet…”

He growled, and I thrilled at the struggle I saw in his eyes. There it was again. Control. Power. It was like a drug and I was a newly minted addict. When he still didn’t move, I jerked my left arm back toward the bed, and his right hand followed by default, causing him to tumble forward. Hooking an arm around his neck, I pulled him close and kissed him aggressively. That did the trick.

He climbed onto the bed, onto his knees, lips sliding down my neck and along my collarbone, then back up. “You have no idea what kind of things are going through my head right now,” he whispered at my ear. “Things I wanna do… Things I’ve wanted to do from the first second I saw you.”

“Tell me,” I groaned, letting my head fall back. Goose bumps broke out along my skin, brought to life simply by the sound of his voice. “Tell me what you want to do.”

It happened fast. He shifted to the side, hooking his leg around the back of mine, and swept me flat on my back. Hovering above me, he grabbed the section of the chain closest to my wrist and pinned it to the bed.

He straddled me, pointer finger lingering at the hollow of my throat. “My tongue would explore every inch of you,” he said. “Starting here…” He trailed a finger down, between my breasts, then over the left one, circling the nipple. I bit back a gasp, shivering beneath his touch. From there, he skimmed across to the other and repeated the motion before continuing south, past the waistband of my pants.

My pulse spiked when I remembered I’d taken off my underwear, rinsing them and leaving them to dry. He stopped at my middle, finger just barely skimming my center, and I bit down on my bottom lip, involuntarily pushing up. The sensation was beyond electric. One thin layer of cotton was all that separated his hand from my core.

“All the way to here,” he said. His breathing was elevated, and as he moved his finger up and down across the thin material, so gently, so slowly, I swear I heard him groan.

A tremor rocked through me, and I closed my eyes and held my breath to keep from crying out. How could anyone stand it? If actual sex was a fraction of this, how did you survive it?

“And then, with my hands.” He flattened his palm, cupping me for a moment before reaching upward. He stayed above the shirt, the warmth soaking through to my skin like his touch was pure fire. The power of the sun harnessed in the skilled fingers of a god.

He ran his palm up to my throat, fingers splayed, then worked his way down my arms, one at a time. When he was finished, he moved to my breasts, cupping each one and running his thumb across the nipples. He moved his hips against me and I nearly lurched off the bed. The friction sent intense waves of pleasure shooting through me.

“I’m sure you’ve figured this out by now,” he whispered. “But I have impulse control issues. Anger, and…” He groaned and stopped moving, placing a hand on either side of my head and leaning close. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

I wanted to tell him he was mistaken, that something this amazing wasn’t wrong, but reality began creeping back. What would my mom think? I’d already broken so many rules when it came to Shaun. Pursuing this felt like the ultimate betrayal. “Yeah,” I said, throat thick and breathing quickened. My body rebelled, desperate to know, firsthand, the extent of his “impulse control.” Several measured breaths later, my mind won. “You’re probably right.”

…

We took turns sleeping to ensure that at least one of us was awake close to sunrise. We needed to be long gone by the time the lot opened at ten. It wasn’t much, but we each managed to catch a couple hours or so. It was better than nothing.

After grabbing munchies from the truck stop, we hitched a ride with a trucker from Pembroke Pig Farms. The cab smelled foul and the driver was even worse, but beggars couldn’t be choosy. We needed to put some distance between us and Jaffe’s men. This was the fastest way to do it without chancing public transportation.

When the driver pulled in to make his delivery, Shaun and I thanked him and hopped out. I’d never been so happy to breathe fresh air before. We ended up in Rochester. I remembered passing through here once with Mom when I was a kid. I hadn’t known what we were running from at the time, but now it all made sense. All the subtle glances over her shoulder, all the double and triple checks on the door locks each night. Everything had been harried and rushed. She’d been waiting for the past to find us.

And eventually, it had.

We tried Patrick again—he had answers I needed—but there still wasn’t any answer. I could tell Shaun was edgy, but we hadn’t said much to each other since the camper. What had almost happened last night felt like a cloud hanging over our heads. Things were different now. Charged. Every movement held an unspoken tension that I wanted so desperately to explore.

Having no other choice, since we couldn’t just sit around and wait for Patrick to give us answers, I let Shaun talk me into giving one of his “friends” a try.

“Why do you think this friend of yours can help us exactly? Do they have a fully loaded arsenal to lend us?” I asked as we turned the corner of Chester Street. Shaun seemed to know the area well and hadn’t broken stride once since we’d left our ride in town.

“I helped out the family a while back. Chris has some skills that might come in handy for information-gathering…”

“In my experience, just because you help someone doesn’t put them in the eternally—and loyally—grateful category…”

“You’re so jaded,” he snipped.

“Jaded? I think the word you’re looking for is ‘realistic.’”

“Trust me. This is one hundred percent safe. Chris would never call the cops.” He stopped in front of a white house with bright-red shutters. There was a tall, thin girl outside pulling weeds from a small flower bed in the middle of the lawn. I bit back a snide remark. If her shorts were any smaller, she could have worn them as a belt.

“Not the cops I’m worried about,” I said under my breath.

“Chris?” he called, ignoring me and starting across the lawn. His enthusiasm was obvious, and had I not been shackled to him like a prison-yard thug, I would have hung back.

The girl stood and turned to face us.

I would have hung
way
back
.

“Shaun?” She squinted against the sun for a moment before hopping up and down. The way she bounced and jiggled in her teeny-tiny tank top was almost obscene. “Shaun Denver, is that
you
?”

“Denver?” I whispered with a snicker. “Your last name is
Denver
? What’s your middle name? John?”

He made a show of turning away from me and greeted the annoyingly perky brunette with a one-armed hug. “God, Chris. You’ve grown!”

She eyed him up and down, and let out a mock growl. “You, too, handsome. I haven’t seen you in years! What are you doing back here? Come to check out the old place?”

Shaun’s gaze slid past her to the house next door. It was decrepit and screamed
keep away
. For a moment, a look crossed his face. An expression that was all darkness and rage. But he wiped it away and flashed little Miss Perky Pants his brightest smile. “Actually, I’m here to see you.”

Her expression brightened, and she blushed. Eyebrows fluttering, she swished her long hair to the side and giggled. Oh, God. I was going to be sick. “Me?”

The urge to hit her came over me fast and strong, which was pretty funny since, before meeting Shaun, I’d never even made a fist. Obviously I wasn’t his girlfriend, but did she know that for sure? No way. And yet here she was, eye-humping him and flicking her hair in his face. If this was the kind of annoying drama-laced shit I’d missed out on in high school, then I was about to start considering myself lucky as hell Mom had kept us on the run.

“Are you still into all that computer stuff?”

Her face fell the tiniest bit. “Oh, yeah. Totally. My dad would shit bricks if he knew, but what can I say. I’m a natural.”

“Look, I hate to ask you, but I’m in a little bit of a tight spot, and I was hoping I could get your help.”

“Trouble?” Her expression instantly changed. The jovial bimbo was replaced by someone calm, cool, and collected. She peered down the street, then motioned for us to follow her around the house. “What kind of trouble?”

“It’s complicated, and I don’t want to go too much into it. I was hoping if I gave you a name, you could check and see what came up?”

“I can try. And since you came to me, I’m guessing you don’t mean Google…”

Shaun tugged me along behind. “Google won’t cut it with this.”

She nodded and pushed open the side door to the garage. “Gotcha. So just a name? Would help if I knew more though…”

“The less you know, the better,” I said, speaking for the first time. I was ready to explode. It was bad enough that he hadn’t introduced me on his own, but it was obvious this bitch was purposely ignoring me. It was funny, since my entire life, Mom taught me that being ignored equaled staying alive. That tumble into Gerald’s panic room must have knocked my brain out of whack, because if this girl didn’t acknowledge me soon, I was liable to punch her. Several times.

Shaun was obviously a bad influence on me.

She looked me up and down, frowning, then picked up the shackle chain. “Shaun, why are you chained to a homeless girl?”

He nodded to me and closed the door behind us. “Chris, this is Kayla,” he said. “That’s the other thing I need your help with. Think you have anything that can cut the chain?”

He’d ignored the insult. I, on the other hand, couldn’t. “Shaun, why are we here visiting Bimbo Barbie?” Because seriously, who pulled weeds in full makeup and loose hair?

Her mouth fell open. “Excuse—”

Shaun rolled his eyes and had the nerve to cover my mouth with his free hand. “Chris, I really need your help here. I don’t have a lot of time.”

She gave me a slight shake of her head, then turned back to him with a sickeningly sweet smile. “My machine is under there. After that, I think we can find something to free you from your…
friend
.”

Following her gaze, I bit back a snide reply. The urge to tell her all about the
friendly
things we’d been doing together the night before nearly made me explode.

On the other side of the room, a white sheet covered nearly the entire space. She walked across and threw off the large cover. Beneath it were several monitors and twice as many computer towers. They were covered in what looked like a decade’s worth of dust and cobwebs, a few of them dented on the sides with what looked suspiciously like baseball bat indentations. If this was what she planned on helping us with, we weren’t going to get far.

“Dad doesn’t come out here at all. He thinks he destroyed all my stuff years ago, but I rebuilt.”

Shaun and I watched as she pulled the front panel off the first computer case and stuck her hand inside. A moment later the lights on the front of the case began to flicker.

“Is that a computer inside a computer?” I asked, confused.

She beamed. “Yep. Pretty brilliant, right? Hide the stuff in plain sight and you never get caught.”

“Caught?”

She shrugged it off, but I could tell she loved the attention. “I got busted cracking into one of the local bank branches when I was ten…”

“So, you’re a
hacker
?”

She cringed and flipped on the screen. “‘Hacker’ is such an ugly word. I prefer
boundary tripper
.” She winked at Shaun. “Sounds sexier, yeah? So who we looking for?”

“This is a little backward. We’re looking for someone named Mick, but we don’t know anything else about him.”

Chris stared at him. “Shaun, I’m good, but no one on earth is that good. Last name, city, or date of birth? Relatives? I need more to work with…”

“No, no. I know. Try doing a search on Melissa Morgan.”

Chris wound a small alarm clock next to the computer and began punching keys. “Date of birth?”

Shaun looked to me and I sighed. This felt like betrayal somehow, but I was out of options. After all I’d done lately, what was one more, anyway? “November twenty-fifth. Seventy-seven.”

A few moments later, Chris let out a sharp whistle. “Okay…got it.”