Outlaw's Promise(69)

I could feel the battle going on in his body: half of him wanted to believe me but half had been living so long with the guilt that he couldn’t let it go. “He used you,” I said again, squeezing his shoulders. And after a moment, I felt his tension ease just a little.

“Doesn’t bring the guy back though, does it?” he said bitterly.

“No.” I was picking my words carefully. I knew it wouldn’t help to lie. “It doesn’t bring him back. But people can redeem themselves, Carrick. You saved me. That’s got to be worth something.”

His hands slid up my flanks, his palms smoothing over my skin. “Maybe,” he said at last.

I covered my hands with his. “Definitely.”

And I felt his whole body slowly relax under me. I hadn’t healed him, but I’d helped to open the wound so the poison could escape. “Come here,” he murmured, and pulled me down into a tight embrace.



I woke to the sound of scampering. When I realized it wasn’t a dream, I opened my eyes. Sitting on the floor next to the bed, looking up at us with huge eyes, was a chipmunk. It chattered once, then bounded across the floor and out of the door, probably wondering what the hell we were doing in its home.

I looked around. It was light and I was lying face-down atop Carrick, both of us utterly naked. His strong body had kept me warm all night.

When I checked the window, a clear blue sky was waiting for us outside. But when I woke Carrick, the blue I saw in his eyes was even better. I wasn’t kidding myself that his past was dealt with and forgotten: you can’t leave something like that behind you overnight. But I felt like I was on the inside, at last. We could deal with it together.

It was only six in the morning. “We could go to your place,” I suggested. Curling up with him in a warm bed with actual covers sounded very, very good. I pulled on my still-wet jeans. Eww.

“I don’t have much in the refrigerator,” he said, pulling on his similarly-wet clothes. “Don’t know about you, but I need breakfast.”

He was right. I was starving. I hadn’t eaten since before Ox’s accident. Ox! That was a reminder that our troubles weren’t over. Volos was out there somewhere, plotting. But we’d deal with that together, too.

“Let’s go see Mom,” said Carrick. “She’s always up early and she always cooks breakfast for whoever’s around. We need to stop by the clubhouse anyway to let them know we’re okay. And we can get an update on Ox.”

I nodded, pulled on my sneakers and we set off. The forest was completely different in the daylight, tranquil and beautiful. I could see why someone had built a cabin there.

Something was still bothering me, though, something I had to tell him while we had some privacy. As he climbed onto the bike in front of me, his cut and t-shirt rode up and I saw the shamrock tattoo, the one he’d talked about. “The club...that’s your family now, right?”#p#分页标题#e#

He froze...then nodded.

I reached out and put my hand on the tattoo, smoothing my palm across his tan skin. “Families look out for each other. The club wants to help us. You should let them.”

He didn’t look around. “Yeah,” he muttered in a way that didn’t mean yeah at all. I could see his shoulders hunching and knotting. He was still too wrapped up in guilt over not being there for his real family. I knew better than to push him. One thing at a time.

“You think you’ll ever get back in touch?” I asked cautiously.

He shook his head and started the engine. “Some things should stay in the past.”



We were the first ones at the compound, other than Mom herself, so we had to unlock the gate and pull it aside ourselves. We figured everyone else had stayed at the hospital until late and was still asleep.

Carrick headed into the clubhouse to make some calls and find out about Ox. I said I’d help Mom whip up some breakfast. As I walked up to her trailer, my stomach was rumbling. This was a good idea. Mom always had fantastic coffee and I was thinking bacon, with eggs sunny side up on toast made from her homemade bread….

I stopped outside the door and frowned. That was weird. Mr. Fluffy was outside, scratching at the door. Mom never shut him out at night. And Carrick was right: she was always up early. So why wasn’t she letting him in?

I knocked. No answer. I pushed open the door.

And stepped into hell.





43





Annabelle





For a second I just stood there on the threshold, gaping. I couldn’t process what I was seeing. That mistake nearly ended me. Hungry for the fresh outside air, the flames surged out to meet me. I heard the crackle as the loose strands of hair on my forehead singed. Just in time, I staggered back, choking on a cloud of black smoke and slapping at my hair.