The Chase (14 page)

Chapter Ten

“What do you think?”
Miss Black asks as we exit the limo, bracing ourselves against the wind of the impending storm that’s blowing in. The car has driven across the tarmac, all the way to the foot of the small private plane that’s waiting for us. Her eagle eyes are searching my face, recording every nuance of my expression.

I know what she’s doing. She’s showing me all this, showing me what I could have by sticking with her. She wants me to be impressed.

“It’s nice.” Too bad for her I’ve already been in Adam’s plane. With Adam.

She doesn’t seem to like my lack of effusive praise
. “You’ve pulled yourself together remarkably well, my dear. That’s an admirable trait. You remind me of how I used to be.”

I eye her as she waits for my reaction, but I just shrug. I don’t feel much of anything.

“Come on then.” Briskly, she takes me by the elbow and starts walking me to the plane, both of us blown slightly off course by the wind. She seems to be in more of a hurry than I think is necessary, and she’s pinching me. Hard.

My feet, however, are dragging.

Deep down, I know I made the right choice. All of my life, I’ve told myself that I won’t be like my mom. That I’ll be ruled by logic and not emotion.

But emotion is making a really convincing case right now.

I want Adam. And I feel like I’m losing someone who could change my life, just to hold myself to an ideal that no one cares about but me.

My steps slow even further, wanting to drag me back to
Adam, to his cocky smile and the drugging power of his kisses.

“Don’t even think about it, dear.” Miss Black’s fingers dig into my arm, hard enough to bruise. “You’re getting on that plane.”

Should I struggle? Should I just go with her? I place my foot onto the first metal step, leading up to the plane, feeling my ears ring.

The ringing grows louder. I turn, realizing that it’s not my ears—it’s sirens.

“Holy shit.” I blink, sure I’m seeing things. But no... I’m not imagining it. There’s a police car screaming across the tarmac, lights flashing crimson and blue, sirens blaring.

The siren grows deafening and the car slows in front of me. Before it can even come to a stop, Adam is jum
ping out the back. Dressed in those faded jeans, a plain grey T-shirt and flip-flops, with his face still naked from his cold shower, he looks both wild eyed and beautiful.

“Carly!” And then he’s running toward me, a wild animal in motion. I think he means to swing me up into his arms, but
something in my expression stops him short.

“Get back.” Miss Black waves to her goons, who advance menacingly. “Miss Daniels is no longer your affair.”

Adam is ripped, hard bodied and strong, but he’s no match for men who are built like tanks on steroids. But Sax and one of the other giants climb out of the police car as well, and they might as well be emerging from a clown car, they’re so big.

B
eside me, Miss Black inhales sharply and lets go of my elbow. Two of Adam’s giants against two of her tanks equals a stand-off.

I hug my arms to myself, not sure what to do. Adam eyes me, then, without warning, scoops me up, throws me over his shoulder, and carries me away from Miss Black.

“Adam!” I beat on his back with my fists. “You can’t keep kidnapping me! It’s not normal!”

“Nothing about us is normal.” Satisfied with the distance from Black’s goons, Adam releases me, sliding me down his body... and that bastard, he’s playing dirty, making sure I feel every hard plane of his frame, and I do mean every. “And kidnapping is a harsh word. How about rescuing? Saving? We really don’t have to regard it as kidnapping.”

“Semantics won’t save you.” I glower, but I can’t stop everything inside of me from sparking to life. Yes, I want to survive on my own... but surviving isn’t the same as living, and this man makes me
feel.

“No. But maybe honesty will.” My pulse stutters, my heart actually aching, as Adam takes both of my hands in his and brings them to his lips for one soft, sweet kiss.

“Why are you here?” My teeth chatter in the wind; turns out a tropical storm can be just as cold as the sun can be hot.

Adam rubs his hands up and down my arms to warm me. “To grovel. To show you that I’ll do whatever it takes for you to give this—to give
us
—a try.”

“
You only want me so badly because I’m a novelty. I don’t know you, other than the fact that I’m a challenge to you.” I’m not expecting him to laugh, and have no idea what to do when he almost doubles over with laughter at my words.

“I’m glad I entertain you.” I eye him frostily as he straightens back up
. He shakes his head, wipes his eyes, then unexpectedly fists his hand in my hair, pulling me to him in a possessive move that makes me instantly wet.

“You, woman, are the biggest damn challenge I’ve ever come across in my life.” He grins when I glare at him, placing a finger over my lips to quiet me. “I fucking love it.”

“Oh.” I have no idea what to say, but he continues.

“No, you don’t know that much about me. And I don’t know you. Yet. And I don’
t think it’s fair to either of us to break this off when we haven’t given it a fair chance yet.”

“There has to be give and take—” I start, but he cuts me off. He pulls my hair, just a bit, just to flex his muscles, and damn him, but it makes me hot. It’s a not-so subtle reminder that while I may fully intend to stand on my own two feet, he likes to be in control... and wants me to lean on him.

It’s a strange-assed sensation for me... but I think I maybe, possibly, kinda like it.

“Yes, there has to be give and take.” His hand slides down to cup the nape of my neck, then my throat. I should
hate
that, but the gentle gesture of possession makes me weak in the knees. “Which means you have to let me give, too. And I’m going to give you something right now.”

I watch, stunned, as he fists his hands in the hem of his T-shirt and whips it up and over his head. It flies away in the wet, cold wind, and I can see his skin prickle with gooseflesh.

“What are you doing?” I cry out, going to warp my arms around him. “You’re going to get pneumonia, you ass.”

“Has anyone ever said you talk too much?” He bats away my arms and scowls. “Now just listen.”

I should be salivating at the sight before me, Adam Kincaid standing in the middle of a tropical storm, wearing nothing but blue jeans and a half smile. But in that moment he’s not turning on the charm that’s second nature to him—he’s not Adam Kincaid, the rock star. He’s just plain Adam—Adam, the beautiful man who holds my heart in the palm of his hand.

He rests one hand on his opposite forearm, over the tattoo of the T.S. Eliot quote. When he looks at me, I know he’s never let anyone else see him this vulnerable.

“I’ve only had sex with one girl in my entire life.” His voice is steady, but tinged with bitterness.  “I was fifteen, and really fucked up about my sexuality. I liked boys. But I didn’t stop liking girls. It was a lot for a kid to take in.”

He pauses, takes a deep breath. “I was a fairly normal kid, looking back. A little obsessed with the music, but I didn’t see anything wrong with that. And I, this skinny, pot smoking loner who was always lugging around his guitar had my first guy crush on the captain of the freaking football team.”

His voice shakes a bit; without thinking, I reach out and place my hand on top of his.

“Was I ever surprised when, one night at a party,
he
came on to
me.
We messed around... it was my first time with another guy.”

I don’t want to speak. He clearly needs to get this out.

“We were just cleaning up when two of his buddies came into the room. We both had our shirts off, and it... well, it smelled like sex. It was pretty obvious what we’d been doing.” He smiles ruefully. “But he—Dave—he freaked out. He told his friends that I’d come on to him, that he was so drunk and high that he hadn’t been able to defend himself.”

“Oh no.” Seeing where this is going, I find that I can’t breathe.

Adam continues as though I haven’t spoken. “The three of them beat the shit out of me that night. I would up in the hospital with broken ribs, a concussion, and a fractured jaw. But those weren’t the worst things—it was what was inside that was the hardest to heal.”

“But none of this is your fault!” I can’t hold back, full of righteous indignation for the boy that Adam had been. “You were the victim!”

“I’m not done.” For the first time since he started talking, Adam focuses on me, and I shiver when I see the chill in the depths of those eyes. Whatever he’s about to tell me, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to like it.

“That incident woke something up inside of me, something black that I couldn’t quite control. The whole time I was in the hospital, all I could think of was getting back at that fucker.”

“Once I healed, I set out to seduce Dave’s girlfriend. It wasn’t hard to do, since he was a dick to her. And it confused me even more because I liked it. Not just because it would get back at Dave, but because Tracey was genuinely sweet. Not to mention that she legs that went on forever and tits that fit perfectly in my hands.”

“You were just a kid.” I whispered. “We all do stupid things. And he deserved it.”

  “He did. She didn’t.” Adam’s words are flat. “I was only with Tracey once, but she got pregnant. For months she pretended it was his, but the timing... I knew it was mine.”

I start to speak; he shakes his head.

“She was seven months along when they had a fight. She told him the baby wasn’t his, that she’d cheated on him with me.”

I close my eyes, dreading what’s coming.

“He tried to beat the baby out of her. He succeeded. The baby was stillborn, and between that and her own injuries, Tracey was never the same again. Eighteen years old, and in a psychiatric hospital for the rest of her life.”

Every one of his wo
rds is weighed down with guilt. The hand that I have tangled with his own squeezes, holding tight.

“
I pay for all of her care, not to be honorable, but to remind me of what I carry inside of me. And I got this tattoo in honor of them both—Tracey and the baby.” His free hand strays to his side, to where the sun tattoo stretches out over his ribcage. “And this one... in my own blackest moments, this was my reminder to greet every day like a new one, because life was just too short.”

When he finally meets my eyes again, it breaks my heart to see that his—those crazy, beautiful eyes—are full of tears. I know without being told that he’s never told this story to anyone before.

He’s giving it to me. And I’d be a heartless bitch not to take it, just to save my own pride.

“Adam.” I don’t have any words. Instead, I burrow into his arms, wrap myself around him try to warm flesh that’s gone scarily cool. He’s stiff at first, but after a moment of absorbing my warmth he seems to soften, to fill back up with that brightness that is so essentially
him
.

“Told you I was fucked up.” He smiles wryly. I arch an eyebrow.

“Did you ever stop to think that’s you’re not the villain in that story?” I press a feverish kiss to his cool chest, and then another.

He draws back, clasps me by the elbows. “I’m not a nice man, Carly. I want what I want, when I want it. I have enough money to make that happen... usually. And I know it has to make you wary that after years spent preferring men, I’m into you.”

He grins, and the expression is tinged with a hint of the Adam Kincaid wickedness that I love. “My only explanation is that I’m drawn to the person you are, not the gender. But... I can’t tell a lie. I really like that you have such great tits.”

He runs his hands over the sides of the tits in question, and I shiver. I have so many things to say, and have no idea how to spit out any of them.

Moving one hand up, he places a finger under my chin, tilts my head so that I have to look at him. And what do I find?

Honesty. Need.

Maybe even the start of love.

“I know neither of us can make promises. That’s not how the world works. But I want to... to pursue you. Without any forced abductions or seductions.”

The rat bastard chooses that moment to turn on his full superstar charm, the one that he sometimes has a dimmer switch on in private. But after the turbulence of the last few days, when he hits me with that cocky grin, that sexy swagger, I’m no more immune to it than a thirteen year old fan-girl.

“I’ve worked too hard to quit school. More—I don’t want to.” I say honestly, my mouth set in stubborn lines. “It’s nice that you have money. But I don’t want it.”

“That’s fucking hot. You’re turning me on.” He nips at my lower lip and I pull away, laughing a bit.

“I graduate in six months. Six months long distance is enough time for us both to figure out if this is what we really want.” The thought of six months apart almost kills me. “
This is where your money comes in. You can visit.”

“Conjugal visits?” He smirks, and I hesitate.
Yeah, about that...