She Can Hide (She Can Series) (18 page)

“Because hiding is what I do best.”

Ethan silently cursed his stupid comment. “I didn’t mean—”

She put a finger to his lips. “It’s OK. It’s not your fault, and I’m working on it. No more hiding for me. But I could use some help.”

Ethan couldn’t form the words to express the feeling in his heart. He’d have to show her instead.

One hand splayed at the base of her spine, nudging her hips closer, letting her feel the evidence of his desire. “See what you do to me?”

Her answering moan sent more of his blood racing south. He skimmed her rib cage until his hand gently brushed her breast. One fingertip circled her nipple in a feather-light caress.

“You have the most beautiful body.” He pressed his lips against her throat and trailed his mouth down her chest. Her torso bent backward over his arm.

He stripped the pajamas from her body, like he wanted to strip her fears away, leaving every inch of her bared to him. He stroked and caressed, kissed and tasted until her muscles went lax. When a heavy sigh left her lips, Ethan scooped her up and laid her on his bed. Shedding his pants, he stretched out beside her. His eyes roamed her flushed skin. Her nipples were pebbled from his tongue, her lips swollen from his kisses.

“I’ll tell you what.” He brushed his lips across her jaw. “I am loving this whole lights-on thing. I can see every inch of you, and you are perfect.”

She smiled, desire seeping through the sadness.

He was in no hurry. His hands moved lazily across her skin. His mouth took hers deeply over and over. His tongue stroked thoroughly, showing her just how much he cared about her.

Earlier their lovemaking had been playful, with a touch of frantic need. This was tenderness defined. He slipped a hand between her legs.

She opened for him. “I need you, Ethan. Hurry.”

Never had his body felt this primitive, basic urge that was now consuming him. He rolled toward her. Ah,
shoot
. Condom.

He reached into the nightstand drawer for a packet. There. He had it on in a second. He stretched out on top of her. She wrapped around him as he slid into her heat.

Her body arched off the bed. “Ethan.” His name escaped her lips as a plea.

Were those tears on her face?

“Shh. I know. I’m right here.” He rocked inside her, claiming her as his, promising with his body to be part of her, to keep her safe. Her body surged up to meet his, trying to find his rhythm. “Just relax, Abby. I got this.”

But her body tensed more, so he put aside his tender intentions and matched her rhythm instead. Speeding up his thrusts to bring her close to the release she desperately needed.

Her body went tense, and she clamped around him, tight as a vise. The aftershocks of her orgasm rolled around him and faded to a shimmer. Ethan let himself go. Abby’s body went soft underneath him.

Levering his weight off her with an elbow, he kissed her head and brushed the tears from her face. Her eyes blinked up at him, a heady mix of gratitude and confusion.

Yeah. What just passed between them had rocked him too.

But Ethan wasn’t confused. For once in his life he was absolutely sure about something. Abby had slid under his defenses.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Abby opened her eyes to a beeping sound.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” Ethan swiped his cell phone from the nightstand. “I have to work today. And I have the horses to take care of first.”

The night’s events flooded her brain in a collage of humiliating images. Never in her life had she been so needy. But despite the lack of sleep and the threat that remained to her life, her body felt lighter this morning. What did Ethan think?

Abby sat up, dragging the bedclothes up to cover her breasts. She smoothed the edge of the sheet between her fingers. “I’m sorry about last night.”

Ethan lowered his cell. “Why would you be sorry?”

“I don’t know what happened to make me lose it like that.”

“You mean except for nearly being killed, finding two dead bodies, and realizing that the people involved in your case are being murdered?”

“The last time I broke down was after I was rescued.” She flattened a wrinkle in the cotton. “I held it together while I was in the well. It wasn’t until it was all over that I lost it.”

“You were in survival mode,” Ethan said.

Abby looked up. “I’m sorry I dumped all that on you.”

“Don’t be.” Ethan pried her fingers off the linens. “Last night was amazing.” He lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. “You’re an amazing woman. I’ve never met anyone as strong as you.”

“I blubbered all over you.”

“You can blubber on me anytime.” Ethan pulled her to his chest. “Why don’t you close your eyes for a while? You didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“No, I should get up. If you’re working today, perhaps I should go home.” But she didn’t really want to be alone.

Ethan planted a kiss on her lips. “No way.”

He turned his pillow vertically and propped up his sculpted torso. Watching his lean body move, Abby was reminded of what those muscles felt like under her hands.

“Do you want me to stay here and keep an eye on the horses?” Where else would she go? Not home. After the detective’s murder, she wouldn’t feel safe anywhere.

He scrolled through messages on his phone. “The chief messaged me. Some files came from the Harris Police Department. Plus Detective Marshall, that’s the cop who’s handling Roy Abrams’s murder, wants you to look at some mug shots and see if anyone looks familiar.”

“But I didn’t see the killer’s face.”

Ethan shrugged. “You saw his eyes, and you said they were distinctive.”

“Dead gray.” Abby shuddered. “Like a fish, a shark.”

“Gray isn’t as common as brown, blue, or hazel. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Is this just an excuse for me to sit at the police station all day?”

“Oh, look at the time.” With an exaggerated glance at the clock, Ethan pushed back the covers and stepped into a pair of jeans thrown over a chair. He pulled a sweatshirt over his head. Picking up her robe, he handed it to her. “Not that I really want you to put it on, but I know you get cold.”

Laughing, she got out of bed and wrapped the thick fabric around her.

“You can use the shower while I take care of the horses.” Ethan tugged on socks. “There’s an electronic tablet in the nightstand. You can take it with you today in case you get bored.” He kissed her before leaving the room.

Abby grabbed her overnight bag from the dresser. Her body might feel relieved from last night’s emotional purge, but her face looked like a truck had run over it. Then backed up and run over it again.

She splashed cold water on her swollen eyes while the water heated. As the hot spray poured over her shoulders, Abby remembered Ethan’s hands and mouth on her body. Her skin flushed, and she didn’t know whether to be happy or humiliated. He’d seen her at her worst, a rare moment of self-pity. She rarely allowed herself to wallow, but last night she’d wanted to stay in Ethan’s arms. Her terror got the best of her, and she’d fled to the kitchen where she promptly turned on all the lights—which illuminated both the room and her failure in stark reality. The temptation to run and hide had nearly been unbearable.

She hadn’t been there more than ten minutes when he found her. And what he gave her was so much more than sex. More than comfort and compassion, he refused to let her retreat into herself. He made it clear that whatever her issues, he wasn’t letting go. She didn’t have to go back to being alone. But could she do it? Her entire life had taught her that all relationships eventually ended in disappointment or betrayal. Or both. Even her mother had let her down in the end, abandoning her daughter through suicide. Could she let Ethan in? The thought of losing him created a hollow space behind her breastbone.

Abby dressed in fresh jeans and a turtleneck. She opened Ethan’s nightstand and took out the tablet. Thin and light, it fit easily into her purse. Abby went to the kitchen. Pale light washed the room in shades of gray. No Zeus, but an empty bowl sat on the floor. Ethan must have fed him and taken the dog out with him. He’d also made coffee. Shouldn’t he be back? She went to the window. An overcast sky hung low over the barn. The forecast was for a couple of inches of snow later in the day.

She grabbed her jacket and borrowed a hat and gloves in the mudroom. One sniff of the morning air verified that a storm was on the way. The barn door was partway open. She went inside, inhaling the comforting smell of hay and dust and large animal bodies. Zeus greeted her with his typical snort and trotted out of the barn to lift his leg on a nearby pine tree.

“Ethan?”

“In here.” His voice carried from the second stall.

Abby gave the pony a pat on the way by. The bay horse was in the middle of its stall. Its blanket had slipped sideways and tangled around its legs. Ethan reached for a strap, but the horse shifted sideways.

“Is everything all right?”

“No. I have to cut these straps, but he won’t hold still.” Ethan went back to the head and shushed the animal until it calmed again. “If I give you the number, can you call my cousin Ronnie?”

“Why don’t I just cut the straps for you?” Abby opened the stall door and eased inside. The horse eyed her but didn’t move.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“He seems to be calm as long as you’re at his head.” Abby moved forward.

Ethan considered. “OK, but come up here by his shoulder and let him sniff you. Watch his ears and his eyes. Rolling eyes, tense posture, or pinned ears means he’s not happy. And no sudden movements.”

But the bay stood while Abby took Ethan’s pocketknife and cut the nylon straps. The blanket dropped to the ground. Ethan moved the horse away. Abby collected the ruined blanket and left the stall.

Ethan joined her. He closed the half door and fastened the sliding bolt. Then he turned and kissed her. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” She nodded toward the bay. “He looks a lot better today.”

“He does. No fever. His appetite is back, and he’s not quite as skittish.” He steered her out of the barn.

“Hold it right there.”

Abby looked up, right into the barrel of a shotgun.

Ethan froze.

Mr. Smith, the old bastard who’d starved his horses.

Ten feet in front of Abby, the wiry old man pointed a shotgun at her head. His arthritic hands were steadier than Ethan would have expected. Behind him, a rickety truck and rusted horse trailer were parked in the barnyard.

Panic scrambled in Ethan’s chest. He’d been worried about Abby’s past. He hadn’t considered his job could put her at risk. He pushed her behind him. His hand clenched in front of his hip, but his gun was in the house. “Put the gun down, Mr. Smith.”

“Those are my horses. I’ve come to take them back.” Mr. Smith jerked the barrel toward the house. “You all get out of the way so no one gets hurt.”

Ethan didn’t budge. “Put the gun down, Mr. Smith.”

Smith peered around him. A mean glint shone from his eyes as he focused on Abby. “Get out of my way, or I’ll hurt her.”

Ethan’s blood chilled. He made sure Abby was completely behind him, but now what? Without taking his eyes off Smith, Ethan spoke to Abby. “Call 911.”

“If she moves, I’ll shoot.” Smith’s eyes sharpened. “At this range, the buckshot will definitely get you, but I might get lucky. Some of it might hit her too.”

A load of buckshot at this range would blow a hole in Ethan the size of a potato. Since his body armor was in the house with his weapon, using his body to shield Abby was the only strategy that came to mind. It wasn’t much of a plan, but he couldn’t risk any shot getting past him to hurt Abby.

Something big and tan moved in Ethan’s peripheral vision. With a short bark, Zeus barreled at Smith. The gun swung toward the dog. Ethan lunged forward, grabbing the barrel and shoving it toward the ground. He ripped the weapon from Smith’s hands just as Zeus’s bulk hit the old man dead center and took him to the ground.

Smith rolled onto his belly and covered his head with his hands. “Get him off me!”

Standing on the man’s back, Zeus growled. The dog’s inch-long fangs were millimeters from the back of his neck. A string of saliva dripped from the dog’s curled lips and landed on Smith’s jacket collar.

“Easy, Zeus.” Ethan moved forward, unsure of the dog’s intent.

Abby was beside him. “Good boy. Come here.”

Except for a flicker of his ear, Zeus ignored her. Under the huge canine, Smith whimpered. If Ethan was sure the dog wouldn’t break the guy’s neck, he would enjoy the sight of Smith getting some animal payback.

“Zeus.” Abby deepened her tone. “Come!”

The dog eased off Smith’s body with a reluctant sigh, but his eyes kept focus on the prone man even as Abby took hold of his collar and tugged him farther away.

“Don’t move, Mr. Smith,” Ethan said. He had no doubt if Smith so much as blinked, Zeus would be on him, and there wasn’t a thing Abby would be able to do to stop him.

Ethan moved in. In a few deft movements, he had Smith’s arms behind his back. Abby called 911.

“I didn’t see that coming.” Ethan used his knee to pin the man to the ground. “My handcuffs are in the house. Could you grab them for me?”

Abby put Zeus in the house before the on-duty police officer came to collect Smith. Back outside, she handed Ethan the cuffs with shaking hands.

Ethan secured Smith’s hands behind his back with a metallic
snap
. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “We can’t seem to catch a break.”

“No, we can’t. I’m sorry. I never considered that I could put you in danger.” Ethan stood. Nausea rolled through him. Fear for his own life didn’t even come close to the panic at the thought of Abby taking a load of buckshot.

“It’s not your fault. I know better than anyone that life doesn’t come with any guarantees.”

They waited in silence for the approach of sirens in the quiet winter morning, and Ethan struggled to process the fact that his job had nearly gotten Abby killed.

Krista opened the basement door. The harsh chemical smell that assaulted her nose told her she was right about where Joe got his meth. He was making it in her house. If she wasn’t a total waste of space, she’d have noticed.

“Joe?” She gripped the banister. Her balance was off, and her fingers felt even weaker than her knees. The wooden basement steps creaked under her socks. She finally caught a couple hours of sleep this morning after spending the night wide-eyed and twitching.

Still, she couldn’t wait until Joe came back so she could do it again. The first time he’d made her. The second she’d gone to him. Like she was doing now. Nothing had ever chased away her sadness before, made her feel like her problems had flown away. The downside was that it didn’t last.

Had he left any down here?

She flipped on the light switch. The cellar was messy. Piled randomly on top of one another, boxes and discarded furniture cluttered the slab. She stepped off the stairs. The concrete was ice-cold and unyielding under her feet.

The far corner had been cleaned of debris, and Joe had covered the windows with towels. A scale, a hot plate, and rubber gloves sat on a low table. A nearby box contained a strange mix of household chemicals. Empty cold medicine boxes littered the floor.

She didn’t know anything about making meth, only that it was dangerous, but right now she didn’t care. The sadness was coming back, the ache that turned her inside out and made her think about doing something to end it for good.