Torn (27 page)

“I look forward to meeting her,” Victoria said, and she meant just that. She wasn't worried any longer, not terrified that someone new would see the secrets she carried. Maybe—­finally—­she'd put her past behind her.

“She'll be there when we land.” He gave them a brisk nod. “So enjoy your sleep. We'll be taking off at 0600 tomorrow.”

Right. Sounded good to her.

Asher headed for the door. When it closed behind him, Victoria was aware of the silence.

And of Wade.

She took off her glasses and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear.

“You don't move as much anymore.”

She blinked at those words, not understanding what he meant.

“It used to seem like you were all energy, always moving, always . . . going.”

“Maybe I don't want to go anymore.” She faced him fully. “Maybe I'm exactly where I want to be now.” And he was right—­her nervous energy had faded. She wasn't on edge, worried about a discovery of what she'd done.

She was . . .

I'm me.

Her hand lifted and stroked over his cheek. His five o'clock shadow pricked her palm. “I'm so sorry that you had to pull the trigger.”

His head turned and he pressed a hard kiss to her hand. “For you, I'd do it again, without even hesitating.”

She knew that. But she didn't want him carrying that burden on his soul. If there had been another way . . .

His gaze slid back to her. “I need you, Viki.”

Primal. Honest. Deep.

She nodded. “I need you, too.” They were alone. The darkness had come. There would be no holding back. So she took his hand and she led him to the bedroom. She stripped in front of him, saw him toss his clothes away.

Maybe this should have been the time for gentle touches. Pretty promises. Sweet words.

But . . . it wasn't.

He put her on the bed, spread her legs and put his mouth on her. His touch was rough, hard, and he feasted. Wild and hot and hard, and she came—­erupting with a sharp cry.

Fast. Desperate—­that was what she felt.

Blood and death . . .
no more. Life. Wade.

His cock was heavy and long, full, and she reached for him eagerly, stroking and pumping his erect length. Then he was positioning his cock at the entrance to her body. He stood at the edge of the bed, and his hands wrapped around her hips, lifting her up.

He sank into her, driving deep in that first plunge. Her hands fisted around the sheets.

He withdrew. Plunged again. Again.

Deeper. Harder.

Her back arched off the bed. The only sounds she could hear—­the panting of her breath, the wild thunder of her heartbeat.

Again and again.

Deeper, harder, and—­

She came, a wave of release that swept through her, not stopping, an orgasm so powerful that she nearly jerked off the bed.

But it wasn't enough.

Because he pulled her up. Held her in his arms. Moved fast—­and pinned her there against the wall. In and out, over and over, he drove into her. She was slick and hot and so ready for him. There was no restraint, no holding back. Their bodies hit, and he drove frantically for his pleasure.

When he came, she felt the release deep inside. She turned her head and pressed an open-­mouthed kiss to his neck. She squeezed him, loving the feel of him inside her, outside, all around.

She—­

“I love you, Victoria.”

Her eyes closed. She locked her arms around him and held on tight. He carried her back to the bed. Put her under the covers.

She should say something back to him. She knew that she should. A man had just said he loved her. No other lover had ever done that. But . . .

“I'm not going to stop.” He settled in beside her and curled an arm around her stomach. “But there are a few things you still need to know about me.”

She knew everything.

“I tried to tell you before, I'm not the guy you think I am.” He gave a bitter laugh. “I'm not the guy Gabe tells people I am, either. I'm the guy who hunted with him. I'm the guy who helped him track down the bastard who'd taken his sister, and I'm the guy . . .” His hold on her tightened. “I'm the guy who didn't stop Gabe from killing the man.”

Now she stirred. “That was self—­”

“Self-­defense. Right. Because he was armed and attacking, but Gabe and I—­we could have stopped him. Could have let him live. Could have taken him down another way . . .”

And she remembered. When he'd shot Matthew—­he'd gone for a hit in the shoulder. And even when he'd fired at Troy, the first hit hadn't been a kill shot.

She swallowed and listened. She wanted to hear everything he had to say.

“I was just as angry as Gabe. Just as fucking furious because I saw what he'd done to her. Amy was good. Always a good person. And I cared about her.”

A tear slid down her cheek because there was so much grief in his voice. She hated for Wade to be in pain.

“And I let her the fuck down. I should've found her sooner. I should have done something. When I saw that prick, when I saw him laughing at what he'd done to her—­crazy asshole—­something snapped in me. I wanted to stop him. Gabe just beat me to the punch.”

Her heartbeat was slowing. His arms were so warm around her.

“I didn't grow up easy. My dad died when I was young. It was just me, my mom, and my . . . brother.”

Silence. She barely breathed.

“Adam
was
the good one, baby. I was the rebel. The troublemaker. I was the one who took the risks. Not him. He was sixteen and he'd always looked after me. He looked after everyone. Adam was the fucking hero . . .” His breath roughed. “Until the very end . . .”

“Will you tell me what happened?” They'd both revealed so much. He'd helped to heal her pain. She wanted to heal his.

“A kid went out too far. Some little guy—­maybe around six. He got caught in an undertow. I didn't even notice—­too busy with my own shit. But Adam noticed. He ran out there, didn't even hesitate. He got that kid out and he was coming back. When he was coming back . . .” His breath rasped out. “I saw him then. I was on the beach, watching. Why the fuck was I still on the beach? I should have already been in the water, but I'd just been screwing around and I saw him with that kid and—­a wave hit.”

Goose bumps covered her arms.

“It was a big wave, and when it cleared I didn't see him. Didn't see him or the kid.”

Another tear slid down her cheek.

“I ran into the water. Other people were running then. Trying to help. My mom was screaming. I—­I was a good swimmer and I got out there first. I grabbed and I touched someone.”

She waited.

“It was the kid. He was choking and crying and he held onto me so tightly.”

“Wade . . .”

“I—­I swam back to shore—­just close enough that I could give him to one of the other people out there, then I went straight back out. By then half a dozen people were in the water. We were all looking for Adam. Searching so hard. But he was . . .” Wade's words trailed away.

She knew what he'd been going to say.

Lost.

She pressed closer to him. All she wanted was to comfort him. To take away that pain.

“He must have gotten swept back into the undertow,” Wade murmured. “I fucking hate the water.”

She knew that he did, and now she understood why.

“Three days. It took three days of searching on boats, of getting the Coast Guard and divers out there, before they found my brother.”

“I'm so sorry.” She held him as tightly as she could. “So sorry . . .”

“My mother just . . . she broke for a time after that. It was like I heard you say to Jim. She was just . . . there. Going through the motions. I could see it. Nothing I could do seemed to get through to her. She didn't laugh. She didn't smile. She was like a ghost, one being forced to hang around the living.” His voice was so sad.

He's breaking my heart.

“I couldn't make her want to fight. I couldn't help her. And when I was nineteen, she passed away. Just . . . got sick. Pneumonia. She withered away right before my eyes.”

He'd carried all of this? This pain? And she hadn't known. He'd always seemed so confident. Strong. Happy.

And . . .

Victoria kissed his jaw. His cheek. His lips. She just had to kiss him. To let him know—­

Wade, I'm sorry. Wade, I care. Wade, I—­

Love you?

She eased back, stunned by the force of her own emotions.

“I joined the military. I swore that I would be as good a person as Adam had been. I would help people. I would make a difference. I would do my best to make him proud.”

“I'm sure he would be very proud of you.”

She felt him tense against her. “Adam was the good one. I think I just went through the motions.”

“No.” Victoria snapped out that denial. “That is absolutely not true. You are the best man I've known, Wade. You're strong and brave and you—­”

“We both know I have a dark side, Viki.”

“That doesn't make you a bad person!” she threw right back, desperate for him to understand. “You are good, Wade. I know it. I've always known it. You do help people. You help me. You help so many at LOST. You make a difference.” He'd changed everything for her.

“You make a difference, too.” His voice was so solemn. “I hope you know that, baby. You make a big difference for me. Because I'm not going through the motions any longer.”

It was hard for her to breathe. He'd heard so much of her talk with Jim, but she'd never even thought Wade—­

All this time, he was in as much pain as I was.

“I'm living,” he whispered. His lips pressed to hers. Did he taste the salt of her tears? She thought that he did. In the darkness, they just held each other. And, maybe, maybe they both healed.

“I love you,” he said, voice growing a bit husky, sleepy. “That's not going to change. We'll go day by day, and one day, you will trust me enough.”

“Enough?” She could barely whisper that one word.

“Enough to love me back. Enough to know that you can count on me, through good times and fucking bad times. Enough to know that I will always have your back, and that, for me, you will always be the one who comes first.”

She wanted to have a future with him. A life. Could they do that? Go for kids? The whole picket fence? Knowing what they did—­having seen the violence out there, could they really do all that?

“One day at a time,” Wade whispered. “Because we have plenty of days ahead of us.”

He bent his head and pressed a kiss to her lips.

W
HEN THE PRIVATE
plane touched down in Atlanta, Ana Young was there to greet them. Petite and delicate, physically she seemed the very opposite of her brother.

But she had Asher's dark, almost pitch-­black hair. And her eyes were the same deep brown—­though flecked more with gold.

And they shared scars.

Ana's scar wasn't on her chin. It was a faint slash that slid over her top lip.

She greeted them with a cautious smile and a quick handshake. “It's a pleasure to be working with you,” Ana said. “I've, um, got a van waiting and I'll take you both home so you can get some much-­needed rest.”

Home. Odd, when Ana said that one word, Wade's image flashed in Victoria's mind. She glanced over at him—­and found his stare on her.

“Great to see you, sis,” Asher murmured. He scooped his sister up in a massive bear hug. “Nightmares?”

It was the faintest of whispers, but Victoria was standing so close to Ana that she heard the question.

She also saw Ana's nearly imperceptible shake of her head . . . and the way Asher's shoulders seemed to relax.

The twins had secrets. But Victoria wasn't about to pry. Why would she?

“It's a pleasure to be working with you, too,” she told Ana, and the smile she gave the other woman was real. “Your ears should have been burning because your brother was telling us how amazing you are during the flight. I know you'll be an asset to LOST.”

Relief swept across Ana's pretty face. “I just want to help.” The words seemed blurted out. “Just help.”

“You will,” Victoria said with certainty. That was what LOST did, after all.

And they were growing. Getting stronger and bigger every single day.

As promised, Ana had a van waiting for them out front. They climbed in and soon they were sweeping past the familiar streets of Atlanta. The buildings passed in a blur. Wade was the first one to be dropped off at his place, but before he climbed out, he gave Victoria a long, lingering kiss. “See you soon, baby,” he said.

Yes, he would.

She watched him walk away.

Asher cleared his throat. “Gabe was a bit, um, worried, that you two might not have gotten along so well in the field.”

She smiled. “Don't worry, we got along just fine.”

“Yes, ma'am. Definitely see that.”

They headed to her place. When she climbed out of the van and stared up at her building, it almost seemed foreign to her. Cold and empty.

“Are you all right?”

She glanced back at Ana's question. “I'm fine.” She would be, from now on. Her hands tightened around her bag.

“You sure you don't want me to get that?” Asher asked her.

Victoria laughed. “Trust me. I've got this. But thanks.” She gave them a little wave. “See you in the office soon.”

Because it was time to get back into her normal routine. Life at the office. A home here.

She took the elevator up to her floor, dropped her bag near the front door and walked toward her windows. She looked out at the city below. She'd always felt so safe up there, but now . . .