Avalanche Page 21

  “Closer,” I whispered, pushing into him a little more.

  He made a sound and lifted me into his lap. My legs locked around his waist, our bare chests smashing together. I pressed my cheek into his shoulder and slipped my good arm around his waist. Liam snatched a thick blanket off the ground and wrapped it around us, rubbing up and down my back.

  My eyes slipped closed. The sound of the crackling fire, the feel of his skin, the warmth he seemed to generate even though he’d been outside, too…

  “Bellamy.”

  My eyes snapped back open, and the unfamiliar room came back into view.

  “You can’t go to sleep, sweetheart.”

  “Wasn’t going to,” I argued.

  He chuckled. “Let me see your hands.”

  Begrudgingly, I lifted my cheek and sat up enough to push my hands between us. Inside the blanket, he rubbed at my hands and fingers, trying to hurry up the warming process.

  “How about your toes?” he queried a few minutes later.

  “I’m not getting out of your lap,” I insisted. “They’re fine.” As if to prove it, I wiggled my toes behind his back.

  His low laugh slid over me like honey, so sweet and sticking to me in all the right places. Liam grasped my face and pulled it down. “How’s your head?” His stare bounced between my eyes. “Do you have a headache?”

  “Not much,” I replied. “My shoulder hurts more than anything.”

  How can he be so focused right now? How can he not be as utterly distracted by me as I am by him?

  My eyes traveled downward to his chest and abs. His skin was soft and smooth-looking. I loved the way it stretched out across his chest, molding to all the muscle and strength beneath it. He’d turned into a man in the last eight years. His body was honed and experienced. The urge to run my hands all over him, relearn him all over again, eclipsed everything else in my mind.

  “Your teeth aren’t chattering anymore.” He observed, rubbing the pad of his thumb over my lower lip.

  “I guess you’re warming me up,” I purred. Unable to stop myself, I sucked his thumb between my lips.

  He groaned. “Don’t make this harder than it already is, Bells.”

  I raised an eyebrow and released his thumb. “What do you mean?”

  “You know damn well what I mean,” he murmured, palming my hips and rocking into me. His rock-hard erection was unmistakable.

  I rocked against him again, and pleasure rocketed through my core.

  Liam moaned. His face fell into my neck, his lips grazing over the skin. Pulling back, he blew out a breath. “All I want to do is be inside you. To prove to myself you’re really okay. I know you’re sitting here with me. I know you’re mostly fine… but it’s not enough, Bellamy.” He glanced down. “I want to feel you come alive beneath my hands. It might not even be enough then.”

  I caught his chin, pushed it up. “I’m not saying no.”

  Silver lightning struck through his eyes. Temptation so strong passed over his face, but he shook it off. “I am.”

  Before I could respond, he kissed the tip of my nose, then gently set me away. After tucking the blanket around me, he laid out our wet clothes and put our boots near the fire.

  My eyes stayed with him the entire time, devouring everything about him I could. Not only was unbridled desire coursing through me, but he was my lifeline. Without him, I probably wouldn’t be here.

  The thought made me shiver.

  “Hey,” he murmured, coming back. “You cold again?” Liam sank down on the blanket, setting aside a white kit, and opened his arms. He had a blanket draped around his back so when he folded me close, I was wrapped in him and an extra blanket.

  My eyes strayed to the first aid kit, and I sat back. “Let me clean up your head.”

  “You first.” He grabbed the kit and opened it, pulling out some supplies to line up along the floor.

  “I’m not bleeding,” I demanded.

  “Yes. You are.” He glanced pointedly at my cheek.

  “Guess that wasn’t Spidey’s blood after all,” I muttered.

  “What?” Liam’s voice was sharp.

  “I stabbed him in the neck with a pen. He pulled it out and hit me. I felt blood on my cheek, but I was hoping it had been his.”

  Liam didn’t look thrilled. At all. “Yeah, well, it’s yours.”

  Turning my head so he could see the area, he worked quietly at cleaning up the split in my cheek. I winced when he touched it at first, but the look in his eyes scared me. So I held it back and forced my expression to be passive as he tended to the tender flesh.

  I guess being out in the freezing cold had been good for something. Numbing all the pain. Now that I was warming up and trying to clean up the wounds, the hurt was becoming easier to feel.

  I don’t think I did as good of a job as I hoped concealing the fact my face hurt. Occasionally, the muscles in Liam’s jaw would contract as though he knew, and my belly would tighten.

  “Why’d you call him Spidey?” he asked, reaching for a bandage.

  I stared into the fire. “He has a big spider tattooed on the back of his neck.”

  Liam moved on to my lip, dabbing. It stung, too, so I figured it must also be split. When he was done, he tossed aside the cotton pad and glanced down at my shoulder. “Try not to move that around, okay?”

  I nodded and reached for the supplies.

  His hand settled over mine, and I looked up.

  “You need to tell me.”

  My voice shook. “Tell you what?”

  I knew.

  He knew that I knew.

  He knew I was trying to evade. Up until now, he’d let me, but all that ended tonight.

  “Tell me why those men came here. Why they want to kill you,” Liam answered. “It’s time, Bellamy. You need to tell me everything.”

  Liam

  “I need to look at your head.” As she spoke, she avoided my stare and reached for some first aid supplies.

  My hand covered hers, stopping her movement. “Bellamy, I need to know.”

  Beneath my touch, her hand went slack. “I know you do,” she whispered. “It’s not fair for me to stay and keep you in the dark.”

  “Turn on the light, then, sweetheart.”

  The breath she blew out was shaky. Her eyes met mine. “Can I fix you up while I talk?”

  Half a smile lifted the corner of my mouth. I’d probably let her saw my arm off if it made it easier for her. “Yeah.”

  A fraction of relief came over her face, and it was with that small change I realized just how hard this was for her. How scared she was.

  “Turn this way.” She motioned for me to spin. “So the light from the lamp is on this side of your head.”

  I did as she requested, noting the way my skin brushed against hers when I moved. God, this woman was a walking, talking test of patience. In every single way.

  As bad as this situation was right now and as worried as I was for her, being inside her body was still a need that pulsed through my every cell. Probably more so now because of the situation we were in.

  Using only one hand, Bellamy’s cold fingers caressed the side of my face, gently guiding my head so she could see.

  “Your hand is still cold.” I reached for it, but she snatched it back.

  “It’s your turn, Liam.” She insisted. I reached for her again, but she smacked away my hand. “Don’t you push me, mister. I’ve had just about enough.”

  Pressing my lips together, I sealed in the humor just itching to get out.

  Bellamy scooted closer to me, and I used it as a chance to cover her lap with an extra blanket. As I did, she gave me a warning look, so I swooped in super fast and planted a quick kiss on her lips before moving back. Then I grinned. “Go ahead,”

  With an eye roll and a cute little smile, she titled my head back where she wanted it and grabbed a sterile wipe to gently dab at the cut behind my ear. I gritted my teeth against the stinging pain.

  “It’s
swollen a bit,” she murmured while gently cleaning. “It bled a lot.” After retrieving another wipe, she began dabbing again. “I don’t think it needs stitches…”

  “Does it hurt much?” she whispered when I said nothing.

  My voice was hoarse when I answered, “No.”

  Truth was any pain I might have felt was muted beneath her touch. Bellamy had an effect on me that no one else ever had. When she was around, it was like it was only her. Even when she was sixteen years old, she had a hold over me so strong I would have willingly given up my pro athlete dreams.

  She cleared her throat, continuing to work. “I didn’t have much of a relationship with my father.”

  I glanced at her. I was surprised. “It seemed like you did.”

  She nodded, smiling sadly. “The truth was that time I spent with him here at BearPaw was the most time I spent with him ever. We went years and years between visits, and usually, when I did see him, it was for less than a day at a time.”

  “I didn’t know,” I murmured, feeling sad for her. I couldn’t imagine not having my dad in my life, not knowing he was there.

  “My mom was pretty adamant he stay away. She didn’t want him to come around at all. Ever.” Bellamy set aside the wipe and picked up a cotton pad. “My father was involved in things he shouldn’t have been. Dangerous things…” Her voice fell away, then returned. “He wasn’t a very good man.”

  “He loved you,” I told her, turning to catch her eyes. “He might not have been a good man, but he loved you. I saw it.”

  A sad, wistful look crossed her eyes, and it pierced my heart. “Thank you for saying that.”

  I grabbed her chin, lifting it. “I mean it. It was obvious back then.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled sadly and pushed my head back around. “I know he loved me. Why else would he risk my mother’s wrath for even just a day visit?”

  “You’re worth it,” I whispered.

  She went back to cleaning my head and applying ointment. It seemed to take longer because she only used one hand. I was sorry she was hurt, but I wasn’t sorry for the additional time she had to spend touching me.

  “After I graduated high school, I went to culinary school. I love to cook and be in the kitchen. I’d always hoped to have my own restaurant or be a chef at one of the hotspots in L.A.”

  “I’m still waiting on a meal from you.” I reminded her.

  She laughed.

  “I got a job in a place, started out as a dishwasher and managed to work myself up to cooking staff. Kitchens are very strict that way. You have to work your way up. Prove yourself.”

  “I’m sure you were the best in that place.”

  “I was getting there.” Her voice was soft and gentle, just like her touch. I knew she was cleaning out a wound, but it felt more like she was caressing me. Caressing my body and my senses. Chills of pleasure rushed across my scalp, down the back of my neck. Every so often, a tinge of pain would cut through when she hit a tender spot, and that pain mixed with the pleasure was giving me a hard-on.

  “Almost done,” she said. “I’m not sure if I’ll get a bandage to stick, but I can try.”

  “Keep talking, Bells,” I murmured. I just wanted the sound of her voice.

  “About two years ago, my father called me. I hadn’t seen him in years. He said he was in town, gave me an address, and asked me to meet him. I went…”

  My stomach tightened. “Something happened.”

  “It was in the worst part of town, but I didn’t think about what that meant. I knew my mother didn’t want me to meet him… but I just wanted to see him. He was my father.”

  Was. Jesus.

  Her fingers were trembling. I felt the fine tremors as she tried for the third time to stick some giant bandage to the back of my head. Slowly, I reached up and pulled her hand away.

  “It’s not on there yet,” she fussed.

  I pulled it away from my head and looked down at the faint smear of blood. “I don’t need that.” I tossed it down and tried to pull her into me. She resisted, picked up a piece of gauze, and carefully pressed it against the gash.

  “At least hold this on there until it completely stops bleeding.”

  I took the gauze and motioned to her. “Sit with me.”

  Bellamy climbed into my lap, and my heart rolled over. She sat facing the fire, her back against my chest. I folded my legs and arm around her (the one not holding the stupid gauze against my head).

  Ducking my head, I kissed her on the shoulder.

  “When I got to the place, he was really nervous and jumpy. I knew something was wrong. He shoved a bunch of money into my bag. I tried to get him to go to lunch…”

  “What happened?” I pressed, wanting her to just get to the bad part. I didn’t want her lost in the past, reliving something that clearly changed her.

  “Some men showed up. My father had this hiding spot… between the walls. He shoved me inside right before they busted in the door…” Her whole body was trembling now.

  I began rocking us gently, pressing kisses to her shoulder.

  “They beat him up, and one of their bullets went through the wall where I was… like a peephole in a door… There are never good things when you look through a peephole in a door.”

  I gave her a little shake. “Bells.”

  “I watched them kill him.”

  I sucked in a breath.

  “They shot him twice. Then they laughed about it, talked about going to get lunch.”

  She witnessed a murder. Not just any murder, though, the murder of her own father. Through a bullet hole. I couldn’t even fathom the amount of mental torment she must live with daily.

  “Did they see you?” I worried. The thought of her seeing that was heinous, but her getting caught was much worse.

  “No.” Her voice was hoarse, her body stock still against mine. “I sat inside that wall for hours, waiting to see if they’d come back. Just staring at his body through the hole.”

  It was almost as if she was back there, tense muscles, still form, low, rough voice.

  A deep growl ripped from my chest as I tossed aside the stupid gauze. Both arms embraced her. I wrapped myself around her as much as I could and held tight, still trying to be mindful of her shoulder.

  Her small hand found its way around my forearm and gripped.

  “Have you ever heard of Perry Crone?”

  “The most infamous crime boss this century?” Everyone in this country knew who Perry Crone was. If they didn’t, they were living under a rock.

  I felt her nod. “How much do you know about him?”

  “A good bit, actually,” I said, rubbing my chin over her shoulder as I stared into the fire. “That big trial that put him away about a year ago was on every channel when I was in the hospital.”

  She turned, her eyes concerned. “You were in the hospital?”

  See. That right there. That was why she was the only one who would ever own me. It didn’t matter that some men just tried to kill her. It didn’t matter her shoulder was fucked up, that she’d been punched in the face by assholes, or even that she was telling me about witnessing her father’s murder.

  I’d mentioned a hospital stay, and all those things stopped existing. Her blue eyes bounced between mine, searching… worrying.

  Using my thumb, I smoothed the wrinkles between her brows and smiled. “Torn ACL, remember?”

  Realization and even more worry clouded her eyes. She gasped and turned toward my knee. “You hurt it again.” Her hand hovered over it. Then cautiously, she caressed it. “It’s swollen.”

  “It’s not important right now.” I reminded her, my chest squeezing a bit. I wondered how different my recovery would have been if she were part of my life back then. I wondered if the depression that nearly drowned me would have been so intense.

  Bellamy’s eyes lifted to mine once more. “It is important.”

  I nodded, accepting the fact that, yeah, it was. But it also wasn’t something I wa
s prepared to deal with right now. I was very afraid of what the pain in my knee could mean. Of what it might do to me… again.

  “You know, I’m sitting here filling you in on my past, and it’s making me see that we haven’t really talked about yours either.”

  A quick smile formed on my face. “That’s because no one is trying to kill me.” Because the time we spent apart doesn’t even matter. All that matters is here. Now. You.

  “Not everyone can have such a charmed life,” she countered, cheeky.

  I chuckled.

  When her eyes met mine again, they were somber, less teasing. “I know it hasn’t been charmed, Liam. I can… feel it in you sometimes. I know you’ve been through some stuff. I want you to know I care about it. All of it. I want to know.”

  The lump in my throat was tough to swallow. It took several tries, and even then, it felt as though all I’d managed to do was push it down into my chest where it settled like a weight. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll get to my stuff. Yours is more urgent right now.” I glanced around the sparse cabin for effect. “Clearly.”

  She appeared wary once more. That look I’d come to recognize in her eyes resurfaced as she spun back toward the fire. I wrapped my arms around her again, resting my lips right beside her ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  The feel of her body exhaling should have made me feel better.

  It didn’t.

  “So you watched the coverage of the trial?”

  I nodded, thinking back. “Yeah, it was the case of the year. Hell, of the decade. The Feds had been after Crone for a long time, and finally, they managed to get a witness with enough info to put him—” What I was saying sank in.

  The way Bellamy was rigid in my arms, silently staring at the fire…

  I went motionless. “Holy shit,” I whispered. Then a low keening sound erupted from my throat. “Oh, no, baby. No. Tell me it’s not what I’m thinking.”

  She shivered. “I wish I could.”

  I moaned and pulled her even tighter against me. When she yelped softly because of her shoulder, I only shifted my hold.

  “You were the star witness? The one the prosecution had under lock and key until you could testify.”