Page 9 of Hunted Temptation (Alpha Nights: Unlikely Heroes #4)
Chapter Eight
VAUGHN
“You brought her with you?” Theron’s voice grinds out.
“I brought her with me,” I confirm.
In the silence that follows, I think that maybe he didn’t hear me, but at the same time, I know he did. He had to have heard everything I said. I’m sure he’s thinking about what I’ve done, since it’s not the norm for me.
“Why?” he asks.
It’s a simple question, though it’s not a simple answer by any means. If I tell him it’s because I couldn’t walk away from her, that I thought she was intriguing, sexy, out of this fucking world, he may understand, but probably not. And if he did, he would demand that I marry her.
“What did she see?” he asks.
That is the question I don’t want to answer. “Everything,” I confess. “She saw it all. There was no way around it.”
That statement very well could be a lie, I’m not sure, but at the same time, I’m not going to dissect it. Sure, I could have probably shielded her from watching me shoot two men, but I did shield her from seeing the third. And she doesn’t seem any worse for wear about it, either.
“That is a liability I don’t think we can have,” Theron murmurs.
He’s right, of course. Typically, I would have done it a completely different way, but the way I feel about Elodie, the way my body craves her, the way I couldn’t and can’t keep my eyes off her, there was no other way.
I don’t say any of this to Theron.
Instead, I only say two words. They're the only two words that come to mind. The only ones I can actually move my lips to form.
“I know.”
Theron clears his throat, and I imagine he runs his finger through his hair, closing his eyes in frustration. I would be just as frustrated if the tables were turned. I open my mouth to defend myself, but I don’t know what the fuck I would even say, so I close my mouth and shut the fuck up.
“We can’t let her walk. What is your plan?”
Swallowing hard, I close my eyes slowly. Thankfully, the water in the shower is still running, so I don’t have to have this conversation in front of her.
“She didn’t even flinch when I killed them,” I say.
Standing from the edge of the bed, I walk over to the window and look out at the motel’s parking lot. We’re the only car here, so it should be relatively easy to hear if anyone pulls up. The parking lot is gravel, and the tire crunch will echo in the emptiness.
“Was it shock?”
“Theron,” I grind out. “I couldn’t watch what was about to happen to her. What happened to us, that’s been happening to her, probably her entire life, at the hands of her own father and whoever else he brought in.”
The silence isn’t unnerving because I know he’s likely drifted into some kind of memory. An unlocked moment, no doubt, comes to mind for him. I don’t say a word, allowing him to work through whatever demon has entered his thoughts.
When he clears his throat, I know he’s back with me. Back here. In control and ready to reclaim his thoughts.
“What is your plan, Vaughn?”
“It’s a rough plan, but what I’ve got is this. I’m going to allow her to figure out her future. In doing that, she can stay with me until I feel she’s ready to transition to the safe house. Then she can stay there until she is able to start a real life for herself.”
“And you think in that, she won’t go to anyone with what she’s witnessed?”
The water to the shower turns off, and I slowly spin around to face the bathroom door. “She won’t. If she does, I will take full responsibility for it, for her.”
“You’re taking full responsibility for her anyway.”
“I promised she could have her father’s money,” I tell him the rest of the story.
Theron laughs. “Of course you did. I can agree to that. To be given to her when she’s ready to live her whole life, start her new life over?” he asks.
“Naturally.”
“I’m going to let you handle this the way you see fit, but if it affects Securus at all…” His words trail off, and I know exactly what he’s saying. He doesn’t have to spell it out for me.
“It won’t,” I say, stating a fact, and it is a fact because I won’t let any of this leak into Securus or any of the men’s, my brothers, lives, either.
The bathroom door opens. Ending the conversation, I tell Theron that I’ll text him in a little bit. Before I say anything to the woman standing across from me, steamy and still slightly damp, I send Boden and Hale a text asking them to find out who the other fucker was in that house.
I forward them pictures of him, of the driver, and the license plate. I’ve been so busy locking shit down and getting Elodie out of that absolute hellhole that I haven’t had the opportunity to send it to them yet.
BODEN: GETTING WITH LUCILLE AND NADINE. YOU HEADING BACK?
DRIVING, YEAH. WE SHOULD BE HOME IN A FEW DAYS.
HALE: YOU GOT A MOUSE IN YOUR POCKET? WE?
I snort. The sound causes Elodie to jump slightly. She’s still standing in the doorway of the bathroom. My lips twitch into a smirk as I flick my gaze back to the phone.
brINGING THE DAUGHTER BACK WITH ME.
BODEN: YOU FELL, TOO, HUH? ONLY TWO LEFT ON THE CREW WHO ARE SINGLE.
HALE: AND STAYING THAT WAY.
I DIDN’T FALL. SHE NEEDED HELP.
BODEN: OKAY. SURE.
HALE: RIGHT. SEE YOU WHEN YOU GET BACK.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I try to shake the conversation out of my mind. I haven’t fallen for her… is the biggest lie I’ve ever tried to sell.
I already fell—hard. I just have to try not to act on it or let her know.
ELODIE
Vaughn takes a step toward me, then another. I’m not sure what I expect from him, but it’s not for him to stop just a few feet away, dip his chin, and give me a panty-melting smile as he wraps his fingers around my bare waist.
I had the foresight to put my favorite comfortable outfit in my bag, a pair of rose-pink bike shorts with a matching thick-strapped tight tank that stops just below my ribs, leaving a strip of a few inches along my midsection.
That strip is exactly where his hand is, where I can feel his warmth touch me.
My god.
Hot.
“I’m gonna rinse off, then I’ll order us some food.”
I start to tell him that I’m not hungry, but my lips can’t form words, and my throat is completely frozen. So, instead of saying anything, I just stare at him and make some kind of noise in the back of my throat.
He winks before slipping past me and stepping into the warm bathroom. My nipples tighten as a thrill of desire slides up and then runs back down my spine. Moving farther into the hotel room, I turn my head, looking at him from over my shoulder, when he calls out my name.
“Vaughn?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything else.
“Don’t answer the door. Stay right here.”
I know it’s for safety reasons, but I can’t get past the way he orders me. It’s commanding and sexy. I think I might just follow all of his demands. I know it’s probably some kind of savior complex thing. I think I read in school once about Stockholm Syndrome.
Maybe that’s all I’m feeling, and it’s not real.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I place my hands in my lap and twist my fingers, watching, unable to look anywhere else. I wait for him to come out of the shower, and what feels like seconds later, the bathroom door swings open.
I jump slightly, and my head lifts as my gaze instantly connects to his. Then, in the next moment, my mouth goes dry. Bone dry. He is standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist and droplets of water on his tattooed chest.
On his chest, he’s got VI-II-MMXII in dark ink, 2012. I stand and slowly walk toward him. It doesn’t take me long to get there, to close the distance between us. His breathing comes out in heavy pants as he watches me.
He dips his chin slightly, his eyes searching mine. He doesn’t move. Neither do I. We stare at one another wordlessly. Lifting my hand slowly, tentatively, I extend my index finger and trace the numbers on his pec.
Finally able to speak, I ask, “2012?” It doesn’t come out nice or pretty. It comes out gravelly and rough. It doesn’t even sound like my own words, like my own voice.
“The year I got my freedom,” he announces.
That confuses me. Lifting my gaze up to meet his, I look at him, search his eyes with my own, and then I smile. He wraps his fingers around my wrist, holding my hand against his chest.
“I wasn’t free for a long time, Goldie.”
I don’t ask any questions. I have a feeling that this man wouldn’t answer them anyway, especially if he didn’t want to. No, I don’t think that Vaughn is a man who feels pressured to answer to anyone.
“Like you,” he rasps. “I was not free.”
Like me.
The way his gaze darkens, I know he’s trying to tell me something, trying to tell me something huge. We stare into one another’s eyes for what would otherwise be an uncomfortable amount of time, but it doesn’t feel that way. I’m taking him in, accepting the silent message he’s sending to me.
I don’t know what to say, so instead of trying to say anything, I stay quiet. There’s really nothing I could say, to be honest. All I know is that he shares a darkness with me. He may be a stranger, but I know our experiences are similar.
I can feel it.