Chapter Fourteen

"So you've never seen this car before?" Jake asks, standing next to me as we stare at the brand-new bright blue SUV.

It is beautiful and it has a big red bow on the roof. I never trust gifts. There are always stipulations. Gifts are a kind of manipulation. It's subtle. People think that presents are so kind, so thoughtful, but are they? It's just another delusion the gifter is creating.

It's a cycle.

The giftee will think, "Wow, that was so kind of them to get this for me." And then that person with the gift is bound to the person who gave them a present, thankful, skewing their mind with fake kindness.

No, there are always strings attached to gifts.

"I don't want it," I blurt out.

And lie.

I do want it.

I want this car so bad, especially since mine is trashed and there is no way of fixing it.

Jake and I look at the heap of metal that used to be my vehicle. The roof is peeled back, the seats are ripped and shredded to pieces, and the windshield isn't even there. It's gone as if someone stole it.

"Found the windshield!" One of his deputies yells from the side of the house. "It's by the lake."

"Well, that answers that," Jake mumbles, grabbing his belt as he adjusts his stance. He lowers his sunglasses to the tip of his nose. "What do you mean you don't want it?"

I lift a shoulder and stutter before finding my words. "I don't want it. It has to come with strings." A tire on my old car pops and I jump from the loud noise. Jake protects me by slinging an arm out across my chest.

And then the long high squeal of air leaving the rubber is drawn out for too long and now it's awkward.

"You sure about that, Mickey?"

I sigh, knowing I don't really have another choice.

He points to what used to be my car. "I mean, there are deep gashes in each side, dragged down from the front fender to the back." He is next to the wreckage, placing his fingers on each gash. "It's like claws or something."

"I know, Jake. I can see it too." I don't mean to sound so sassy. Jake is being a good friend and sheriff, showing me all the issues as to why I have no choice but to accept the new car.

"And you have no seats left. The seats are barren. I can see the car's frame underneath them. Something peeled back your roof. Do you know how hard that is to do? Your engine is in literal pieces. It's impossible to put back together. And your tires are flat. One is off the rim and the other was also in the lake. Someone really didn't like you driving this car."

"This car is registered to you. Temp tags and everything. This is your new car, Mickey." Jake points to the blue SUV. "Whether you like it or not."

"Can they check for a tracking device or something?"

"Are you thinking it's from Ty?" Jake questions, walking toward me in hurried strides. "I don't think this is his M.O. He doesn't seem like the gifting type."

I bring my left hand to my mouth, biting my thumbnail with anxiety. "It isn't. He would never do this, but just in case? Can you check?"

"You got it, Mickey. I want to know too." Jake whistles and stalks over to his deputies, leaving me to stare at the vehicle that I paid a couple hundred bucks for when I moved into this house.

It's almost bittersweet.

My phone vibrates and Milo's number pops up. Already stressed, I run my fingers through my hair.

"Milo. Minnie. I'm fine. It isn't a big deal."

"Isn't a big deal?" Milo yells.

"It's the biggest of deals. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" Minnie shouts too close to the microphone and I have to pull away to rescue my ear.

"There's no reason to worry. Whoever did this left another car, a newer one. Oh, look. Jake is coming back over. I gotta go. I gotta—"

"Mickey, don't you dare."

"Oh, no. I'm losing you." I stretch my arm in the air. "I'm losing service. Milo?"

"Mickey, you brat. I swear when I get—"

I hang up the phone and blow a raspberry, relieved I've dodged that conversation that would leave me exhausted. I love that they worry, I do, but they worry too much.

"Losing service, huh? In your own yard?" Jake pokes at my horrible excuse.

"They don't need to worry when you're here. They have been sweet to me and kind, and I know I bring so much stress to them. I'm ready for my brother and sister to let go a little. I can do this. I can start over."

Jake grabs my shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. Most other guys, I'd flinch, but Jake is different. I feel safe with him.

"And you're doing great, Mickey. You're doing the damn thing and I have never seen you speak to your sibling the way you did just now. Your personality is coming through. It's good to see. I'm happy for you and I'm glad you trust me. That means a lot because I know it isn't easy. It's such a gift to me to know you feel safe with me and my officers here."

"You've been such a great friend to us since we moved here. You've been kind to me. You've had my back."

"I do and will. That's why I'm going to try to track where the SUV came from. There's no tracker on the vehicle. It's clean. So far, this is safe. I don't think this person is out to hurt you. In a weird way, I think they are protecting you."

"From what?" I ask more of the universe than Jake, but he answers anyway.

"The world, it seems. Your old car wouldn't protect you from the wild drivers out there like this new one will. It's thoughtful, even if it is questionable."

"Questionable? Jake, it's an eighty thousand—"

"One hundred thousand."

I roll my eyes at him. "Whatever thousands of dollars' worth SUV. I'm supposed to just accept it? It's a trick."

"Trick?"

I nod, kicking the ground with the tip of my shoe. "To get me to trust them. It's like a promise already dipped with the intention to lie. You can't see the intention, the person who made the promise has already tainted it. And then eventually, you notice they broke the promise they never meant to keep."

"I can understand that, Mickey. You don't have to trust anyone but keep the car anyway." He winks just as his radio goes off. His playfulness falls the longer the dispatcher speaks. "Sure. Yeah, I'll be there in two minutes." He lets go of the button on the radio, his face falling. "We have to go. Another robbery downtown."

"Another?"

"I have no idea what's happening. We look at security footage and it's just this blur. There isn't a person. Nothing is there, but money is being stolen. This is the third bank. He or she has hit the only banks we have here. There's nothing left for them to steal."

"Wow." An unsteady feeling works its way into my stomach when I think of the ghost I see. "Go. I'll be fine. Be careful."

He grips the front of his hat, pinches the brim, and gives me a slight head tilt. "I'll leave an officer."

"Don't. Go." I shout as he is midway to his car. "Truly. I'll be fine."

Jake's jaw tenses. He runs by my ruined car, and I know it bothers him that he doesn't know who did this. He doesn't want to leave me unprotected. The reality is, I can't depend on Jake and my siblings forever. I have to start depending on myself. They can't be at my beck and call. It's wrong.

One by one the sirens wail, and the tires spin on the grass as they speed away. Dust kicks up creating a heavy cloud before the slight breeze steals the dirt away.

The loud murmurs of conversation are gone. The sirens get quieter the further away they get.

And the silence is loud.

I grab my upper bicep with my left hand and look around, that too-familiar sensation creeping up my spine again.

Someone is here… I can feel them watching me.

"Hello? Who is out there?" I stomp forward, heart pounding in hard jabs against my ribcage. I spin around, not seeing a damn thing. "Ty? Is that you? Come on!" I yell, spreading out my arms. "Come on. Come and get me, you son of a bitch!" Birds fly from the trees, my voice echoing all around me.

"I know you're there," I whisper into the darkness of the forest. "And I won't be afraid of you." I scan from left to right, searching for anything between the shadows the branches cast. "I can feel you."

A loud snap echoes from the belly of the forest. The wind kicks up, tangling the ends of my hair. The sun disappears behind the graying clouds, thunder rolling nearby. The storms here build so fast and out of nowhere. The weather changes keep me on my toes.

Rain begins to fall. The dirt beneath me turns from a light red to a dark brown. As seconds tick by, the hiss of rain becomes louder, as the drops make impact with the ground as if they hate one another.

I rush to my newly covered porch, leaning against the oak-stained beam. There's nothing here but my paranoia trying to get the best of me. I take one last look at the worthless car before scanning my fingerprint on the handle and going inside.

Only to see the back door open.

And because I was here with Jake, I didn't bother to reset the security system.

"One of the police officers must have left it open. Doesn't mean anything," I tell myself, heading toward the other side of the room to shut the door.

I toss my damp hair in a messy bun and appreciate the progress I've made on the house. The kitchen is complete with new stainless steel appliances and open to the living room just like I wanted.

An oversized deep burgundy rug lies in the middle of the space. Built-in bookshelves line the wall, framing the fireplace. A seventy-inch flat-screen TV is mounted on the wall in the gap the contractors measured to fit the monstrosity. I got it for Milo. He loves watching sports.

The windows on the wall where the back door is are large, allowing light in. There are benches under them, perfect for storage or sitting and drinking a hot cup of coffee or tea, looking out the glass, and watching the rain fall.

My house is starting to feel like a home and there is a warmth to that I didn't know I needed.

It's safe and it's mine.

I reach for the handle to close the door when I catch a reflection in the window that doesn't belong to me.

Steven. The man who said I knew him from high school.

We stare at one another for a long beat before he reaches for me. I dive to the right, but he snags me by my hair and yanks me to his chest.

"I have a message from Ty." He keeps a tight grip on my hair, then wraps a hand around my throat, squeezing it so hard I can't breathe, and spots begin to dance in my eyes. "I can understand his obsession with you." He inhales, his hot breath puffing against my ear. "You are fucking beautiful."

"Fuck. You."

"Oh, we'll make that happen. Ty said I get to have fun with you too, but he told me to tell you, you're a stupid fucking girl for thinking you could ever get away from him. I didn't think those cops would ever leave. By this time tomorrow, you'll be with him, I would have fucked you, and I get a nice lump sum of cash. I'm curious what else he sees in you. I didn't know one person would cause so much trouble." He licks my earlobe, chuckling. "He has paid me a lot of money to find you too. You made it difficult. I'll give you that, but I guess at the end of the day, you're exactly what Ty said you are. A stupid fucking girl."

I shake my head, inhaling to get as much air in my lungs as possible, then dig my nails into his arm around my throat. "I am far from stupid." I slam my foot down on his and bite into his arm until I taste blood.

"Fucking bitch!"

His arm loosens enough for me to get away, but I don't run because I know he'll catch me— they always do.

I lift my leg and kick him between his legs, but he catches me by my ankle right before I make contact.

His dead eyes meet mine. "Nice try."

"My efforts are far from over." I jump-kick, smacking him across the face with my other leg.

I knee him in the stomach, slam my elbows down on his back, and he wraps his arms around me, tackling me to the ground.

The air is knocked out of me and my shoulders ache from the contact. I groan.

"You fucking bitch." He wraps his hands around my throat again and I snag his wrists, this time, he intends to kill. "Do you really think I give a fuck if you're alive? I'll deliver you alive or dead to my client." His brown hair falls into his face, his cheeks turning red from the energy used to strangle me. "You're nothing but a piece of ass, and that's all you'll ever be, according to the stories Ty told me." He reaches between us and unbuttons my jeans. "I hear you feel better than any whore he has ever fucked, and I want to know what this pussy is like after hearing so much about it."

I grip his wrist harder and rasp through the constriction. "That's too… fucking bad." I rear my head back and throw it forward, smacking his nose with my forehead.

"God damn it." He cups his nose, blood dripping from between his fingers.

I roll to my side, pushing myself up, all while shaking my head as it spins. Getting up is difficult, considering the room is spinning. I don't care if trying to get away from him kills me.

I will never go willingly.

I will never stop fighting.

I am so much stronger than the girl I was before.

And I was never fucking stupid.

Falling onto my hands and knees, I crawl to the loose floorboard where I keep the gun.

"You broke my nose," he groans.

I ignore him, ignore the pain throbbing between my eyes, and the tears blurring my vision. The room spins and spins. Everything seems so out of reach. I stop moving, squeezing my eyes shut as the dizzy spell passes.

Looking over my shoulder, Steven is getting up, which means I only have a few seconds to get what I need. Blood is wet on his chin, and he spits red, nostrils flaring from my damn audacity.

Audacity I plan to always keep.

"I like it when they fight," he says, wiping his mouth with his hand.

"Good. I never plan on stopping."

He digs into his waistband and pulls out a knife. The blade is thick and long with serrated edges.

"We'll see." I swallow, eyeing the blade. If he stabs me, I'm done. I'll die.

I stomp my foot on the floorboard, snatching the piece of wood with my hand since I can't bend down to grab the gun. If I do, he'll take the split second to stab me. I can't turn my back to him.

He lunges and I dive left, lifting the board into the air and bringing it down on his wrist with every ounce of determination I have.

The knife doesn't escape his hold.

Wasting no time, I backhand the board across his face and blood-tinted spit flies across the room.

Along with a tooth.

It clinks against the floor.

Once.

Twice.

I bolt to the back door, jumping down the stairs.

I'm three steps into my getaway and a sharp pain stabs me in the back. I gasp, the pain unbearable.

"You really are a stupid girl." He grabs the handle of the knife and buries it deeper.

I scream at the top of my lungs. Flames lick the wound and burn my insides.

"If I pull this knife out, you'll bleed to death. You'll do as I say if you want to stay alive."

"Being alive and living are too different things." I suck my tongue over my teeth, tasting blood, and spit the wad into his face. "And I would rather die than ever be with Ty. So go ahead and kill me."

"I'd be glad—" he is cut off as he is tackled to the ground.

I fall to my knees, swallowing as much air as my body will allow. Blood drips down my back, my shirt warm and wet. I fall forward, catching myself on my left hand before falling to my side.

My breaths come out loud and hoarse. Every inhale is audible.

I'm going to die.

Laughter bubbles free. Out of all the torment I've lived through, the agony, the abuse, the neglect, and a fucking knife is going to kill me?

At least I'm in my own yard, by my own house, getting one last look at the beautiful lake I love so much.

I blink, tears breaking free as I watch two men fight.

Well, one man is fighting— the other doesn't look like a man at all. Snarls and growls have hope building in my chest.

"She is mine!" The beast with wings warns. "How dare you try and take her from me. How dare you take her life when it is so much more important than yours."

"No. Please! Please, I'll go. I'll leave."

The beast's tail whips out, wrapping around Steven's neck, then picks him up and off the ground. His feet dangle, searching for support that is not there.

Breathe.

I remind myself, inhaling through the pain.

"You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to let another man's mate be at risk because I let you live."

Breathe.

I know this voice. I know this beast.

"Rhett." His name gets lost in the sound of the long grass swaying together.

His wings spread and he lifts into the air. Steven screams at the top of his lungs. Rhett still has him by the neck when they dive into the water. Steven's cries end the moment my monster takes him underwater.

Breathe.

Steven screams again, crawling his way out of the lake. Water pours off his soaked clothes as he gets to his feet. He doesn't spare me a glance when he takes his next step.

The crocodile launches out of the water and snaps his jaws around Steven's leg. From here, I can hear the bone break, and a normal person would turn away from the violence.

Not me.

I want to watch the man who tried to kill me die with my last few breaths.

He claws at the ground, wailing for his life. "Someone, please help me! Someone help!"

The crocodile's stare aims directly at me, a softness, a love flutters over his eyes for a split second before they darken.

He death rolls.

Water splashes from Steven trying to break free, to get one last breath. Steven manages to get free again, swimming to the shore. And then the crocodile is there again, nearly jumping into the air. The large jaws with rows of teeth clamp on Steven's neck.

The crocodile death rolls again, choosing to drown Steven instead of breaking his neck.

Breathe.

I don't know a lot about crocodiles, but I do know from watching educational shows growing up that death rolls are to kill and dismember their prey, then they eat pieces that have broken off, whole.

The splashing of water stops and there is no crocodile or Steven to be seen.

I groan, my breathing changing pace, and I glance up to the sky as the rain continues to fall, feeling the cold drips of rain on my face.

"I wish the stars were out," I say to no one but myself as the pain becomes nonexistent.

It doesn't hurt anymore.

"Hey, hey. My sweet mate. No." A wet hand slides under my head.

And I'm left staring at someone who isn't human.

My mind is still playing tricks on me in death.

"Rhett." I touch his cheek with my hand, grazing over the crocodile scales before sliding my fingers over his nose, the rough stone skin tickling my palm. "You're here."

"I'm always here for you, Mickey." He pushes my hair back, the kind softness returning in his eyes. "He is dead and soon Ty will be too. I promise." He bends down, leaning so close I can almost feel his lips against mine. "This is going to hurt."

He yanks the knife from my back, and I cry out, the pain unimaginable. Black spots dance in the sky.

Rhett bites into his wrist and shoves it into my mouth. "I won't live without you. Drink. Drink, My Brave Little Flower. Drink to stay with me."

With every drag, energy returns to me. He holds his wrist against my mouth, and I groan at how good he tastes.

He purrs, a constant vibration in his chest that's calming, as he runs his claws through my hair.

This must be death because nothing in my life has ever felt so peaceful.

"Take what you need. Take all of me."

My lungs can fully expand now, so I slide his wrist from my mouth. Blood must be covering my chin.

"I know," I whisper, half-drunk off nearly dying, and his blood.

Or slurring because I'm sleep-talking. I'm not sure.

"What?" he whispers.

"I know what you are." I graze my knuckles over his high cheekbones, then trace the large pout of his lips.

"I'm a monster."

"You're not the monster that hurts me but the one who slaughters for me."

His mouth parts in shock, and his reptilian eyes blink at me.

"I know what you are," I repeat, sighing as the ache in my back disappears. "And I love you, anyway."