Page 136 of Tracked
Another police SUV and an ambulance drove through the gates. Behind them, Cassius’s truck slowed to an idle just outside the perimeter.
“Time to go,” he murmured, and released me. Looking down at Rachel and then over to the ambulance where Dr. Julia and the man with the shoulder injury were already being loaded into the back, Calder asked, “Do you want to take Rachel to the hospital?”
“No.” The sedatives they’d given her would wear off in a couple of hours. Until then, my sister had her own personal doctor to look after her.
Nodding, Calder went over to the EMTs and handled the conversation and the natural pushback that came when anyone refused formal medical assessment. It would’ve been easier if I had gone and told them I was a doctor, but right here, right now, I wasn’t a doctor. The last of my honed authority had seeped out from me the moment I’d walked away from Matthew.
Now I was a victim who’d killed my attacker. I was a sister who was both exhausted and relieved, worried for Rachel and wanting to weep that I’d found her at the same time. And I was a woman, wanting nothing more than to let go of the weight I carried and be taken care of by the man who always protected me. The man I loved.
“Let’s go home,” Calder said when he returned. Crouching and lifting Rachel into his arms, we headed for Cassius’s truck.
Home had never sounded so good. Nor so right.
Chapter 36
Calder
Rule #41.
I drove behind Cassius down the mountain.
Lara had chosen to stay with Rachel in Cassius’s truck, and now that I was alone, all I could think about was seeing Lara on her knees in the woods, Ben standing in front of her, a gun to her head. That was all I needed to see, all I ever needed to see. It wasn’t my life that flashed before my eyes—it was my love.
And I was an idiot for not telling her sooner. Now the confession pulsed in my chest like a grenade clutched in my hand, threatening to blow. I didn’t care if it was too much or too soon. I didn’t care if she wanted to leave to go back to Arizona. I would do anything and go anywhere as long as it was for her. But I had to hold all that to myself until I could talk to her alone again.
As soon as Cassius pulled up to the house, he didn’t wait for me before lifting Rachel from the back seat and carrying her inside.Into his room.
“Are you sure, Cassius? I’m sure Colby—”
“She’ll stay here as long as she needs.” For a man who was skeptical of anyone who stepped onto our property, his tune had taken a complete 180 turn when it came to Rachel.
“Thank you,” Lara said and adjusted the pillow under her sister’s head. “I’m just going to shower and lay with her until she wakes up. I don’t want her to be afraid.”
I nodded. “Do you want me to sit with her while you—”
“I’ll sit with her,” Cassius declared, entering his room with a large weighted blanket from downstairs. He unfolded it and laid it over Rachel, arranging it with a degree of care that shocked me.
Cassius did care, could be caring ... in his own way. But I’d only seen him like this very few times in my life, either when Mom was pregnant or once when Colby was sick with the flu. I folded my arms, watching him make sure every inch of her was covered.
Maybe seeing Rachel like this had brought back memories of Mom. Not that the circumstances were even close to the same, but here was a woman he could help, in a way he hadn’t been able to for Mom.
I looked to Lara. It was up to her to decide, though it didn’t sound like Cassius was really giving either of us a choice.
She bit her lip, hesitating for only a second before agreeing. “Thank you, Cassius.”
He didn’t do more than grunt as Lara and I stepped out of the room. As soon as the door closed, she sagged into my arms.
“Calder . . .”
“I’ve got you,” I promised, cupping her head even as she angled it back, her eyes swimming with a thousand emotions. In the last hours spent saving her sister, saving herself, caring for the wounded, and looking over Rachel, Lara hadn’t let herself process all the emotions that came with being a victim.
“Kiss me.”
She never needed to ask me for that.
I slid my hand to her face, and her fingers curled into my shirt. Our mouths collided in a hot and heavy mess, our bodies banging into the walls of the hall. Tongues and teeth tore at each other, not soft or gentle, but savage, in search of safety. Knowing she was okay. Knowing I was okay. Knowing we still had each other.
At the first quake of her knees, I hauled her up into my arms, my mouth never breaking from hers as I pinned her back to the wall. I couldn’t think about where this was going or where I should have been taking it. All I could focus on was the kiss. On her. The sweet heat of her mouth. The hunger of mine.She was safe. She was mine. I loved her.
