“We have to help her,” I whispered.
Karson shook his head. “Amelia, we cannot help—it’s too late.”
“Please, we have to try.” Tears stung my eyes.
His brow furrowed as he took in the poor creature. But then his eyes glazed over like blinds pulled down for the night. They became expressionless, vacant, unreadable.
A distinctly unpleasant edge found a corner in my mind.
“Turn away.” His tone was cold and mildly hostile.
“Karson—”
“Amelia, I said turn away.” His words were so sharp I flinched and took a step back.
The doe let out a pale moan of gut-wrenching torment. A single tear fell like a silent scream from her eye. I knew he was right. She was suffering and way beyond help. Karson stalked toward her, his movements fluid and graceful, there was no emotion on his face.
I turned away. A sharp crack, like a dry branch breaking, jolted my body as he snapped her neck.
I fought to stay strong, but the noise, that awful sound—I felt myself beginning to crumble.
Don’t cry, don’t cry,I repeated, grief and panic rising in my chest. I wouldn’t break, not in front of him.
Visions of Summer holding my hand, peering up at me with big brown eyes, and Obi’s big grin as he turned back on his bicycle, landed like a hammer to my heart.
I broke. Tears cascaded down my face as I moved away from the deer, away from the awful smell, away from Karson.
“Amelia,” he said, his voice tender again. He was close behind and I didn’t even hear him follow.
Stopping, I wiped at my eyes roughly with the back of my arm and sniffed. Irritated with myself and dismayed by my weakness, but I couldn’t stop the tears. I looked at the sky to distract myself and jammed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. But nothing worked.
“Amelia, are you alright?” He reached out a hand like he was going to touch me, then took it away again.
I nodded, sniffed, and wiped at my eyes again. I made the mistake of glancing up.
He looked simultaneously awkward and concerned. His brow was furrowed, as if he wasn’t used to anyone showing emotion around him and he didn’t know what to do.
I gave him little choice because I launched at him, wrapped my arms around his back, and leaned my cheek against his chest, weeping and shuddering.
His hand cradled against the side of my head. The other wrapped around my back. We pressed against each other, merging like flooding water.
“It’s alright,” he said softly. “It’s alright.”
“It’s not alright,” I sobbed out, fighting to get myself together. “None of this is alright.”
I cried for a long moment, and he just let me, no more words were spoken, the hold of his arms, and the stroke of his fingers on my back eased the storm brewing within. Finally, I took a deep breath and stepped back. Our gazes locked. His eyes were soft, compassionate, and they captivated me.Hecaptivated me—tall, powerful, beautiful, and safe. I must have looked a sight standing there, covered in black soot with a tear-stained face, but in that moment I didn’t care. I needed to remove the pain, to think about something else, anything else.
An electrical current pulled between us, urging me to him. I stood on my toes and kissed him.
He erupted. His hands wrapped around me, trapping me to his body. His lips hit mine, passionate and desperate. A groan rumbled up his throat, sending a burst of wet desire to my core. His mouth tasted sweet, with a hint of whiskey. And never mind the time of day. His tongue whispered across mine, sending shivers down my spine. I pressed my breasts against his chest. My hips into his groin. I felt his erection push against his pants, and I ached with want. His lips didn’t leave mine as he spun us effortlessly and pressed my back against a tree. His hips ground into mine, his cock rock hard. He moaned, the sound raw and feral, and it sent another hot surge of wetness between my legs.
I clambered for the button on his jeans.
Abruptly, he stepped back. I stared up at him in disbelief, breathless, my heartbeat drumming.
“This is not a good idea,” he rasped.
I could see the passion in his eyes, but also a deep torment I couldn’t understand. Maybe I wasn’t pretty enough for him. He could have his pick of women; he’d hardly choose me. I found myself thinking of Rebecca, her svelte figure—she was perfectly groomed and classy. A world away from the girl I was.
