He was hurt. A punctured lung would be my bet. Ben's bat to the chest had done some real damage.
I held my breath.
"We can sit here all day, McLaren," Pierce replied harshly. "Can you?"
The detective knew Roan was wounded. They'd wait him out.
I watched Roan's face show a swift change of emotions. Determination. Anger. Righteousness. Then uncertainty, doubt and finally pain laced with a measure of defeat. Roan knew he was trapped. He knew he couldn't get out. The end was near, and like me, he was tired.
But I'd always seen Roan as a survivor. I guess I'd been wrong. He wasn't the survivor... I was. Because despite my losses, despite my unbelievably broken heart, as soon as I saw the realisation register on his features and knew the outcome for me would not be good,
I wanted to live
.
For Ben. For my Dad who had sacrificed as well. For me.
Never thought I'd find someone who could be my equal. Never thought I deserved to have somethin' so special in my life.
No Ben. It's me who never thought I'd experience such beauty. It's me who never thought I'd find my match. I found it in you. You set me free. To fight for my life when the odds against winning were so poor.
For Ben I would continue to breathe free.
I watched as Roan shifted the gun towards me, his intention to take me out before he was taken out, clear on his face.
Not gonna happen, as Ben would say.
I swung a fist at his jaw, then lifted a knee to his wrist. The wrist holding the gun.
The moves on their own would have been useless. I was hardly a match for a man like Roan. But he was struggling for breath. And I took him by surprise. Like me, he'd thought my will to live was gone.
And like me, he also didn't count on Ben.
A shadow appeared over us. A flick of my gaze took in the shape, I could have sworn, of an angry, defiant avenging angel. Then a flash of metal in the lights, a glint of the muzzle of a gun. The butt connecting solidly with Roan's cheek. And in an ironic payback of sorts I heard the crunch of bone cracking beneath the metal in Ben's fist.
The table was pulled away in the next instant. Pierce appeared with his gun pointed at Roan's temple. One of the SWAT team kicked Roan's gun across the room from where it had landed, while another pulled me out from beneath him, as he wailed at the anguish and injustice of it all.
I watched stunned, as they brought Roan Fucking McLaren to the ground. Knees in the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades, muzzles of rifles in his face.
Then Ben had me wrapped up in his arms.
I made a strange sound. It was painful to hear, but it was definitely not filled with agony. Just bitter-sweet relief. My hand shook as I ran trembling fingers across the wound at his neck. An obvious gouge where the bullet had glanced across his skin. The blood had stopped flowing, thankfully. The injury wasn't nearly as bad as I'd feared, but the amount of blood on his collar was evidence enough of how close it had truly been.
"You were playing dead," I said, incredulously.
"A lucky escape," he admitted on a whisper, a look flashing across his face that stole my breath. A mix of heartfelt relief with desperate agony. He'd suffered about as much as me.
I sucked in a deep, shattering breath at the realisation of the dangerous part he'd played. The tremendous risk he'd undertaken for me.
"Don't you ever do that again," I said shakily. Ben leaned forward and rested his forehead against mine, then took a slow breath in. Soaking me up.
"It's over," he whispered.
We could hear the cops reading Roan his rights, the shuffle of feet as they dragged him from the room. It
was
over. Roan had been arrested. He'd go to court, but he'd never see freedom ever again. He'd tried to kill a cop. Along with all the other evidence they had on the man, I was sure he was going to rot in prison for the rest of his horrid life.
I was free
. Ben had helped give that to me. But he'd done it in a way that made me
want
it. I'd thought I'd craved freedom from the very start. But it wasn't until Ben helped me soar, gave me a taste, that it became a part of me.
My very breath, my very heartbeat.
Me
.
I was sure I'd still suffer from various bouts of guilt-laden emotions in the future. Much like Ben still did, from time to time.
But I was also certain, together, we could get to the other side... and fly free.
Six weeks later...
A large, warm hand ran down my naked spine, sending electricity coursing through my veins directly to the deepest part of me. I may have groaned.
Soft lips followed the path his palm and fingers had laid. Hot breath washing out over evermore sensitive flesh. My skin burst to life and suddenly the world seemed a better place for it. Even the crisp sheet covering my lower legs made me feel alive. I writhed beneath his touch. Beneath the hot, hard feel of his skin against mine.
"You awake, red?"
"I am now, shadow man," I whispered back.
His finger lazily followed the outline of my new tattoo. Delicately traced the wide, majestic wings of the eagle sprawled across the centre of my back. Exactly where the bullseye used to be.
"I need you, red," Ben murmured, moving to straddle my legs, his hand not stopping its pursuit of my body's reaction. "This is truly beautiful," he commented, moving his fingers to the bird's head and beak, which rested between my shoulder blades. Always ready to scratch that itch.
Or scare it away for good.
I knew what he would be seeing. A magnificent, powerful Golden Eagle swooping across my back in full colour. Its wings spread in flight, giving the image of freedom that I had craved for so long, and finally had. It was expertly drawn and executed, by the same artist who had created Ben's tribal tattoo and Tiki. I liked that we shared that connection. Among so many connections we'd had from the very start.
His rough fingertip drew the outline of the eagle's wings, then its body, right down to its curved claws. Then carried on to the dip above my rear. His hot palm cupped a butt cheek and squeezed. Then his hand slipped between my thighs.
"Are you wet for me, red?" he murmured, his words breathed across my flesh as his lips coasted a series of kisses above the eagle.
I squirmed beneath him, a smile gracing my lips, and nodded my head. I couldn't make any other sound than a "Mmmm."
"I think you might be," he whispered, moving my thighs apart with his knees.
One solitary finger ran through my increasingly wetter and wetter folds, then dipped inside. This was bliss. Waking up to Ben and his insatiable appetite every morning for the past month and a half. Sometimes it would be at my place, my room at Kelly's house. Sometimes here in his garage flat. He always looked at me strangely when I called it that. But what else would it be? A flat fronted by a garage door. Ben still hid a little. Even from me.
His free hand lifted up my hips, making me kneel on the bed, but when I went to raise my face from the pillow, he gently pushed my head back down.
"Like this, red," he murmured. "The eagle's swooping."
I think Ben was as enamoured with my new tattoo as I was. I only ever got to see it in the mirror, while looking over my shoulder. Ben had made love to me at least once a day from behind since it was finally completed. I had the impression his eyes never left my back throughout. It did something to him, that eagle. It meant more than just a decoration or piece of artwork on my skin. Ben Tamati craved freedom too.
I started rocking back against his hand, riding his fingers; he'd added another, stretching me slightly, giving me exactly what my body desired. His free hand stroked over my back, down my side to my hip, then up my stomach to knead and pinch my breasts and nipples. There wasn't a place he didn't reach with his touch. My nerve endings burst to life the moment Ben told me he needed me, but they exploded multiple times with every single touch of his hands since then.
Ben could play me like a musical instrument, he knew exactly what I needed and how to give it to me. He was a maestro, magnificent in his movements. A master at his art.
"That's it, red," he purred, laying a kiss on my shoulder, nuzzling his nose in amongst my newly dyed blonde hair.
Like my tattoo, Ben had a thing for my natural hair colour. I hadn't ever realised that Ben Tamati liked blondes, but the moment I turned up with a colour as close to my old platinum blonde as I could get, he'd shown his appreciation repetitively. I'd like to think it was due to the fact that I was embracing the real me. No more hiding, no more running. But in all reality, I think Ben just loved blondes.
I could live with that. Abi Monaghan was blonde. I still couldn't take my old name, maybe one day, but not just yet. My dad had trouble calling me anything other than Sarah though. When he was in town and we'd meet for coffee I let him. There was too much we'd missed out on together, to be concerned with a name. But everyone else called me Abi. I owned her now. Not the Abi Merchant I'd created, but the Abi Monaghan Ben had released from within me.
"One for me like this, red," Ben insisted, intensifying his movements between my legs. I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from calling out and moaned instead. "Abi you are so beautiful. Come for me, babe. Let me see you flyin' free."
Like most wake-up orgasms this one rolled through me like a refreshingly cool wave, setting my body alight, washing away the last vestiges of sleep, and preparing me for what was to come. Wake-up orgasms rocked, but part of that was because I wanted what I knew would come next. Ben, losing himself deep inside me.
"Oh, Abi," Ben groaned behind me, shifting my body into position with firm hands on my hips. I felt one hand leave me to guide the broad tip of his cock into place.
We'd foregone condoms a few weeks ago, after undergoing tests and starting on the Pill. I now had two different medications to juggle. But I had a feeling that with time, I might just be able to face life without the Aurorix. It was early days, but the paranoia and panic were diminishing, and in their place was an anticipation of a very bright future. And not an itch or bullseye in sight.
"Ready, red?" he asked. He always asked before he thrust himself inside. As though seeking permission was important. My acceptance of him in my body was as significant as my acceptance of the real me. Ben never stopped reaffirming both.
"I was ready the moment I met you, Ben," I replied, meaning every word with utter conviction.
He made a sexy strangled sound as he rocked his hips forward, sinking himself to the hilt.
"Fuck, red. You do it to me every time."
He started a steady pace, his hands running over my back as his thighs and hips bumped against me and his thick and heavy erection pierced me, again and again. This was heaven right here. The only thing better would be looking in his eyes. Seeing the love he felt for me there. I knew he did love me. He'd risked everything for me from the very start. Breaking the rules. Standing up to his co-workers and Detective Pierce. Risking his life to get me away from Roan.
"Red, are you close?" Ben asked.
I felt my body tighten on his words. God, the man only had to suggest I come and my body willingly obliged. Shit, he could just look at me with those fuck-me eyes I'd instantly come. I was
so
his. I was entirely lost to my shadow man.
The orgasm slammed into me, not just a gentle roll this time. His pace had picked up, the force with which he took me becoming more animalistic. My body couldn't help responding in kind. The orgasm; more of a freight train crashing into me, than a soft wave flowing up onto a beach.
I cried out his name, felt his pace quicken and his breaths come out in little grunts. But he held on, letting me ride the tsunami train, until I felt limp beneath him. Pulling out suddenly, Ben rolled me over to my back, then settled himself between my thighs. Slowly, while holding my gaze, he slipped back inside.
"Beautiful," he whispered, resuming a slower pace, grinding and rocking back and forward.
He felt beautiful too. His big, hard body draped over me, even during sex I felt protected and safe. His frame wrapped around me, his touch tender and careful, but like most things with Ben Tamati, also very sure. Like this was something he had practised to perfection. Like shadowing, he made love to me with purpose and skill unmeasured by anyone else before him.
I came apart again, as his chocolate brown eyes held mine, a connection existing that tethered me to him, to the earth, to here and now. There was no where else I wanted to be. But in Ben's arms, flying.
He made a low, rough sound in the back of his throat. For a moment, I could swear I saw his eyes misting. But his lids closed as his own release swamped him, denying me the answer that was niggling at the back of my mind.
I was certain Ben loved me, but there was something he still held back.
Panting and sweaty, we both lay in a tangle of limbs for several seconds. I forced myself not to hug him too tightly. To show any of my fear.
He rolled off me and tucked me under his arm, my front to his side, my leg over his thigh, cheek to chest. He was still breathing heavily, but now staring at the ceiling rather than into my eyes.
I considered saying nothing. Pretending there wasn't something on his mind at all. But I have faced my worst fears with this man beside me. I could face his now, if that's what was required.
Ben was a complicated and tarnished man. But to me he was still perfect.
"What's on your mind?" I asked, running a finger over his tribal spiral tattoo on his chest.
"That obvious, huh?" he murmured.
"You think I don't know you, Ben Tamati?" I said it with a smile, hoping the lightness would lift his mood.
He huffed a breath out on a laugh.
"Got a proposition for you," he said out of nowhere. Well, that was unexpected.
"OK," I said, holding my breath.
He suddenly looked sheepish. As though what he wanted to ask was going to make him look bad. Or insane.
"What?" I said, getting really intrigued now.
He half-chuckled to himself, a chiding sort of sound, then offered a shrug of his shoulders and said, "Been thinking of findin' a new place to live."
My eyebrows rose, then I took a quick look about the garage-flat. With Roan McLaren out of the criminal underworld for good, Nick had been able to negotiate a truce with Declan King. It was uneasy, but it did mean we could all go back to our homes and lives, without fearing Auckland's kingpin would attack at any second. This morning we were at Ben's. Not much had changed since I last perused it. High windows at the end of the room we were in, masculine colours, and the obligatory huge flat screen TV mounted on the wall.
"OK, that's cool, isn't it?" And I thought perhaps it was, Ben was emerging out of his shadows, about to walk into the light. But, I still didn't get where he was heading with this. Did he want me to help him find a new place to live? Was he asking for my real estate advice?
"You know I'm not good at this," he was saying. He rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of one hand. "But I really want this, Abi," he said, rolling onto his side to face me, his serious eyes returning to mine. "Us. You and me. We make a good team, but I gotta admit, I'm fuckin' scared I'm gonna screw it up."
Ah, this is what had been holding him back. I understood it. Like I understood him and he understood me.
"We both could screw it up, Ben," I pointed out softly. "You're not the only one with issues. But let me ask you this, if I was to do something monumentally stupid, would you walk away from me?"
"Fuck no!" he said, vehemently. I smiled.
"Exactly. And I am
not
walking away from you.
Ever
."
"Oh, red," he said on a burst of expelled air. "You make me feel so damn good."
"Ditto," I whispered.
He stared at me for a long moment, his hand running softly down over my back and side, to cup my hip and pull me flush against his body. There was no denying what I saw on his face. It was plain and simple, there for anyone who cared to look, to see.
Ben Tamati loved me.
"So, what do ya say?" he asked.
I smiled and shook my head at him. "About what?"
He beamed back and whispered, "About finding a place we can both live in. One with big windows, so we can watch the sun set at night."
My heart leapt into my throat.
"And a big deck we can sit out on and drink beers after a hard day at work," I said softly.
He kissed the corner of my mouth.
"And more than one bedroom, so your dad can come and stay the night when he visits Auckland," Ben added.
"And one with room for a gym, where you can work out," I suggested.
"And I can train you up for your next career," he added quickly.
"My next career?" I asked.
He kissed my chin, my cheek, my temple, then moved his body to cover mine again. His hips slipped between my thighs as though they belonged there. He rubbed his returning erection against my folds, making me instantly wet. The man was a machine...
thank you, God!
"Didn't I tell you, red?" he asked, slowly sinking back inside.
Bliss.
"Tell me what?" I panted, gripping his shoulders tightly and wrapping my legs around his thighs. My hips rose to meet his thrusts.
"We're a team, you and me. I hide in shadows, you hide in plain sight. Nick wants us both working for him." His hips began a gentle, slow, seductive rocking; a caress that I felt right through to my core. "I told him we were a set."