One-Two Punch (24 page)

She actually felt hot now and her skin prickled beneath her jeans. She wanted to strip off her clothes and lay naked under the stars and blue-white moon but she was too tired. Her eyes drifted shut, closing out the night sky.

“Beth.”

She opened her eyes drowsily, smiling a little. “Harry,” she said, frowning when his name came out slurred. “Ky,” she tried, still sounding drunk. She heard her name again and lifted her head. Something nagged at her, interrupted her peaceful rest, as if she had forgotten an important appointment.

“Beth!”

The voice had a hoarse, frantic edge and she had a moment of pity for the person yelling—he sounded so worried. She knew she should call out, let him know it was okay, but her mouth was disconnected from her brain and words didn’t seem to work anymore. Anxiety seeped through her lassitude and she managed to push herself into a sitting position. The moonlit landscape rocked, making her dizzy.

A man was running toward her and she knew she should be scared, should leap to her feet and sprint away, but her body had followed her mouth’s lead and refused to move. Beth could only stare as he got closer, morphing into Harry in front of her.

He snatched her up, squeezing her against the incredible, painful heat of him. Her skin burned and she struggled, fighting his hold, the warmth waking her up enough to remember her panic—not the reason for it, but just the idea that she should be running, had to leave, had to escape.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he was repeating over and over, his hand pressing her head against his chest. Suddenly Ky was there too, and they were both clutching her against their hard bodies, wrapping her in enormous jackets, their voices blending together in an unintelligible babble.

Beth let the words run over her. The small, still-functioning portion of her brain realized that, since Harry and Ky were with her, it was finally safe to sleep. With a sigh of utter relief, she let her eyes close.

When Beth woke up, they were still with her. The three of them were squeezed into the backseat of a strange vehicle, Ky and Harry on either side of her. She seemed to have acquired several layers of clothing, along with a thin blanket made of some metallic material. The driver’s face was briefly illuminated by a passing car and Beth decided that she definitely did not know him.

“I’m Beth,” she announced, her voice a rough croak. Both men next to her jumped.

The driver glanced in the rearview mirror and one side of his mouth twitched.

“Hammer,” he grunted.

Beth nodded. “As in shark, not MC.”

The driver snorted. “You got it.”

Harry and Ky both began fussing, asking her how she felt, feeling her forehead, tucking the shiny blanket more tightly around her until she felt like a corndog. An overheated corndog.

“I’m hot,” she complained, trying to work her arms free.

Harry shook his head, keeping a tight grip on the blanket. “That’s what happens with hypothermia,” he told her.

Beth considered that for a moment but shook her head. “No, I’m sweating. I think I’m really hot. How many coats did you guys put on me? Do you have water?”

Ky held an opened bottle to her mouth, tipping it up as Beth drank. She tasted the sweet flavor of a sports drink and then went mindless with absolute bliss. When the liquid filled her mouth, she couldn’t swallow fast enough, desperate to pull mouthfuls down her throat. She groaned with disappointment when Ky took the drink away.

“Not too much,” he warned. “Or you’ll puke all over Hammer’s backseat.”

“Please don’t,” Hammer said mildly.

Although she eyed the bottle with longing, Beth nodded and sat back. “Where are we?” she asked, looking out the window into the darkness.

“West of Denver,” Harry answered.

“Oh.”

The interior of the SUV was silent for several seconds.

“What the fuck, Barbie!” Ky burst out, drawing Beth’s startled gaze. “How can you be so calm?”

She stared at him.

“You got into his van!” Ky’s words got louder and louder until he was shouting. “A stranger! In his van!” His livid face was inches from hers as he twisted a fist into her blanket. Even through all the layers, Beth could feel him shaking.

“Enough!” Now Harry was shouting too, gripping Ky’s shoulder as if to hold him off. “That’s enough!”

Ky’s face crumpled, his mask of anger dissolving in front of Beth’s eyes. “Fuck, Beth.” His voice was just a broken rasp now and he slumped into her, burying his face against her chest. Beth managed to free one of her arms from the blanket’s hold and wrapped it around Ky’s back.

Looking up at Harry, at his unshaven, tautly drawn cheeks and sunken eyes, Beth felt her own body begin to shiver, harder and harder, until she was vibrating and her teeth chattered.

“Sorry,” was all she could manage to get out.

Harry shook his head, kept shaking it, his jaw locked so tightly that Beth could see the muscles in his face quivering, even in the dim light. With a bitten-out curse, he wrapped his hand around her skull and pulled her face into his neck. His scent surrounded her, familiar and loved, and it was there, with her two men twisted desperately against her, that she finally started to cry.

“I have to go.”

Harry scowled at her. “You don’t have to.”

Beth imitated him, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him her fiercest look. “Yes, I do.”

“You can stay here.”

“If I miss one more day, I’ll be fired.” Her voice lost its tough edge and ended close to a wail.

“So?” Harry wasn’t budging from his spot in front of the door.

“So? What about, oh, I don’t know—money? Health insurance? 401K?”

“You could work for me,” Harry offered. “That would be fun—we’d be together all day.”

Beth winced. “Yeah—that’s not going to happen. Come on, Cap’n—I’m going to be late. I’ve already said you can drive me there, pick me up, call as much as you want—I just really need to go now.”

“You could paint?” Harry gave it one last effort.

Grabbing his arm and turning him around so he faced the door, Beth told him, “I will. At night. After work. Now let’s
go
.”

“She’s really going?” Ky asked, leaning against the wall where he’d been listening silently to their argument.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Beth.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m really going to work.”

With a short nod, Ky left the room.

“I’m going to call you a lot,” Harry warned and Beth grinned at him.

“Good,” she said, drawing a grudging smile from him.

It had been two weeks since they had pulled her, hypothermic and dehydrated, out of the mountains. Harry and Ky had not let her out of their sight since, even though Ed had been denied bail. Searchers had found four bodies in the rock pile at the base of the cliff, as well as hair from his victims tucked into a hiding space in the cabin wall, and he was now the subject of local, state
and
federal investigations. Beth had told her story so many times that she could recite it without thinking, which is what she was trying very hard to do—not think.

The media had not released her name, although they made her out to be a heroine.

Beth was embarrassed by that, especially when she found out that she had gone in the completely wrong direction that first night after she escaped. The next day, she had looped around and headed the other way, almost crossing her original panicked path.

The last night, she had just wandered in wavy circles. Although she was mortified by her lack of orienteering skills, they were ultimately what saved her life. Ky and Harry had picked up her eastbound trail and found her in a little over seven hours.

She was worried about returning to work—the questions and stares from her co-workers, not having Harry and Ky within sight, just being out in public—but it was time. As she sat in the SUV’s passenger seat next to Harry, Beth was suddenly very glad that he was driving her. She would probably never be able to ride the bus again.

“Ky’s not okay,” she told Harry as he maneuvered through the rush-hour traffic.

He took one hand off the wheel to scrub it over his head. “Yeah,” he sighed.

“He’s like, I don’t know, a ghost. Always there, but not really. So quiet and…” Beth trailed off. “I just wish he would insult me or something.”

Harry barked out a laugh. “I know what you mean. I’ve tried to talk with him but…” He shrugged. “I’ll give it another shot tonight.”

He pulled up to her building. “I’ll walk you in,” he said, reaching for the release button on his seat belt, but Beth caught his hand.

“No,” she told him firmly, leaning across to kiss his mouth and stop his protests.

“Love you. See you at five?”

His mouth was drawn into a stubborn line but, after a short hesitation, he nodded.

Catching the back of her head, he pulled her into a long, sweet, hot kiss. When she finally pulled back, Beth was panting.

“Now I don’t want to go,” she complained but when his eyes lit up, she shook her head, laughing. “But I have to—bye!”

She swung out of the SUV and slammed the door, trotting up the stairs to the main entrance. When she turned to give him a final wave, Beth saw him watching her, his face serious, his worry obvious even from a distance.

“Fucking Ed,” she muttered, suddenly furious that he had caused such turmoil in their lives. Forcing a smile for Harry, she gave him a jaunty wave. With a deep breath, she pulled open the door and stepped inside.

After work, Harry was waiting for her in the exact same place he had been when he’d dropped her off, making her think for an illogical second that he hadn’t left, but had been watching the Anchor Paper building all day, guarding the door. She knew it wasn’t true, that it was a silly idea, but it made her feel oddly warm and safe.

When they got home, Beth climbed the stairs to the loft slowly, watching out of the corner of her eye as Harry maneuvered the stairs. Ever since his long jog through the mountains, his knee had been swollen and sore. His knuckles had been raw and bruised as well, but Beth hadn’t asked about that.

He noticed her watching his slow progress and flushed. “Hurry up,” he growled.

“You’re slowing me down.”

Beth just shook her head at him. “Going to get over yourself and have a doctor look at that?” she asked.

Harry scowled. “It’s fine—or as fine as it’ll ever be.”

“Whatever, tough guy.” She rolled her eyes and stomped up the rest of the stairs.

“I’m still faster than you,” he teased, pressing one hand against the wall and holding the railing with the other so he could hurdle the remaining four steps. Harry landed behind her on his good leg and snaked his arms around her waist as she unlocked the door, making her shriek and laugh. They tumbled into the loft, wrestling playfully as Harry swung the door closed behind them.

“You’re late.”

Ky’s accusation cut off their laughter and they both looked at him.

“Sorry, Ky,” Beth began, “I asked Harry to drive through the bank—”

Before she could finish, Ky pivoted around and stalked through the living room.

Beth and Harry watched, startled, as his stiff back disappeared into the guest room.

With a heavy sigh, Harry leaned against the door and rubbed the side of his swollen knee.

“What is that all about?” Beth asked. “Just because we’re five minutes late?”

“Shit, I don’t know,” Harry said heavily, rubbing a hand across his face. He pushed himself off the door, giving Beth a kiss on the head and a final squeeze. “I’ll talk to him,” he said, heading toward the guest room.

He found Ky tossing clothes into his duffel.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, playing casual while his stomach twisted.

“What’s it look like?” Ky muttered, not looking up as he mashed a handful of socks into his bag.

“It looks like you’re leaving.” Harry crossed his arms across his chest, as if to physically keep himself from flying apart.

“Two points for you.” Ky crossed the room with an armful of t-shirts.

Pushing himself off the doorjamb, Harry got to the bed first, blocking Ky’s access to the duffel by sitting on it. “I can’t stop you from leaving,” he said, “but at least tell me why you’re taking off like this.”

Ky still wouldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, he stared at the wall over Harry’s head for a long moment. Finally, Ky let the t-shirts in his arms drop to the floor and sank down next to Harry. He flopped back to lie crossways on the bed.

He was quiet for so long, just staring at the textured ceiling, that Harry figured he wasn’t going to talk. Pulling the lumpy bag out from under his rear and tossing it to the floor, Harry tried to think of what to say, those magical words that would make Ky stay. Harry’s mind remained hopelessly blank. He sank back to lie next to Ky.

Beth found them like that, bodies parallel as they frowned at the ceiling. She saw the duffel bag on the floor and her breath stalled. Stretching out on her stomach between them, she twisted around so she could lay her head on Ky’s chest, be lifted by the rise and fall of his rib cage and hear the slow, steady
lub-dub
of his heart. She felt his fingers stroking her hair, pushing the strands off her cheek and over her ear and Beth stilled, afraid that he would take his hand away if she moved.

“You leaving us, Pokey?” she asked quietly, unable to bear not knowing any longer.

Harry’s hand found hers and their fingers intertwined.

“Can’t stay,” Ky told her. With her ear on his chest, Beth could hear the hollow ring of his voice twice—inside and out.

“Why not?” Harry turned his face so he could see Ky’s profile. The question hung in the air, unanswered, for a long time.

“When I look at people, I imagine what they would look like dead,” Ky finally said.

“It’s one thing to see strangers that way but something totally different when it’s people who…matter.”

At the flat statement, Harry turned onto his side, reaching his free hand over Beth to rest his palm on the other man’s stomach, feeling the muscles under his t-shirt jump at the touch. Harry stayed silent, waiting.