I navigate my way to her house and come to a stop under the streetlight. The house is in darkness. Leaving the engine running, I tug off my helmet and place it on the tank, staring at the darkened windows.
What am I doing here? What am I trying to prove?
My phone beeps. A message from the whistleblower stating he did what was required. Relief moves through me.
A moment later, a curtain is pulled aside in one of the upstairs windows. The muscles in my stomach tighten as I stare at the unmoving silhouette. I know it’s her. My mind pictures what the dark hints at—her small waist, the decadent flare of her hips, the lush fullness of her figure.
The need to talk to her courses through me. Talk, not touch, I tell myself. I know how sheltered she is, how innocent, and I’m not about to ruin that. There are depths that not even I will sink to.
I’m about to cut the engine when I take another long look at that storybook house and the fairytale family inside. I picture telling Heather about the raid, the look on her face when she realizes how many laws I broke tonight. I picture a lot of other things too, and they’re all to do with bringing my darkness into that house.
I mutter a foul name under my breath. This is a mistake. Jerking my helmet onto my head, I twist the throttle and roar away. Exhaustion seeps into me. I want to crawl into bed and sleep for hours, days if I can, waking up only to remind myself of the six beagles in their new homes, sleeping in a bed instead of a cage.
If only I can dislocate the memory of the beagles I didn’t save. And somehow find a way to divert the impending storm when Kane finds out what I did tonight.
39
HEATHER
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The guttural growl of a motorcycle jolts me awake. I cast a bleary glance at my bedside clock. It’s one in the morning. Still half-asleep, I stumble out of bed and yawn my way over to the window, pulling back the curtain. My stomach dips at the sight of Justin straddling a beast of a bike, staring directly at me.
I’m frozen by the unexpectedness of the encounter. Why is he outside my house at this time of night? Fortunately, the noise of the motorcycle won’t wake my parents, who sleep as though they swallow a handful of Valium every night.
The thrill of his presence ripples through me. There’s no denying Justin is a beautiful distraction of a man, raw and unfiltered, so full of anger and pain my heart goes out to him. I’m torn between wanting to help him in some way or staying out of the murky waters he’s swimming in.
From the defiant tension in his stance, he seems to be fighting some internal battle. I’m inviting temptation standing here like this, watching him while he’s watching me, but I can’t seem to move.
There is definitely something between us. I’m not sure I can give it a name yet, but whatever it is excites and unnerves me.
I wait to see what Justin will do.
Only when he slips his helmet back on and roars away, disappearing into the darkness, do I manage to draw in the first easy breath in over five minutes. A confusing combination of relief and disappointment spreads through me.
What is happening here? Why do I feel so thrilled and so scared at the thought of a secret visit fromJustin?
I move away from the window, my skin tingling and my heart still stuttering in my chest. I try to slip back into sleep, but I can’t get out of my head the image of Justin looking so big and alone on his bike, so unlike the cocky picture he usually presents. I prefer his arrogance to any hint of vulnerability. It’s safer that way.
40
KANE
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Thursday, July 15
I make the call from the car.
“Hey, buddy, good to hear your voice,” says Ross, sounding surprised and pleased on the other end of the line. “Mel and I have missed you.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“I should warn you; Mel’s got this practical joke she’s dying to try on you.”
“Can’t wait,” I say drily as I check the rearview mirror. The Nissan is nowhere in sight.
“Neither can she. So, when are you planning to visit?”
