Objective (Bloodlines #2)(56)

“How’d you find me?” she finally mumbles.

“The P.O. boxes. I found them all,” I inform her. “Thank you very much by the way for the wild goose chase there. I finally hired a shithead punk to hack the account online that you set them up through, and your IP address showed up in Arkansas. It still took me a while to find your exact location, not to mention that, when I got to the area, I was still looking for Cypress. It was luck really. I stopped at the bar for a drink, and saw you.”

“The cypress branch night...” she says realizing.

“Before that. I watched you for a good month after I first saw you,” I admit sheepishly. She gasps and nuzzles her face into my chest again.

“I never meant to shoot you. It wasn’t supposed to be you...” Her voice breaks and I wrap her up in my arms tightly.

“Then who, Mags?” She shakes her head no but says nothing else. What the hell isn’t she telling me? Irritation bubbles in my gut but I know it won’t help right now. I push it down until I can’t feel it anymore.

“Okay, well then where the hell is my bike?” I retort, trying to lighten the mood. She snickers into the wall of my chest.

“At my trailer.” Her voice is muffled from the way she's face-planted into me.

“What?! Seriously?” I croak at her, pulling away to see her face.

“Yup. Right out back under the tarp,” she says smartly.

“Damn. I loved that bike.” I let out on a breath.

“Why haven’t you asked?” she pipes up.

“About?”

“The money, Cane. The bike wasn’t the only thing I took,” she says seriously.

“It was never about the money to me. Ezra seems more concerned about recovering the backpack, to be honest.”

“That ratty black pile of thread?” She quirks an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Maybe just because the money was in it.” I shrug. I have no idea why the money is so important. Ezra makes hand over fist and it was chump change in his book. He wanted it all recovered. The money, the pack. And he wanted Cypress gone.

“You really don’t want to know?” she asks quizzically. I can’t help but notice all the little changes in her. Her eyes are harder. Her demeanor is armored. Her light is gone. She’s still stunning. She’s still in there - somewhere. And it's becoming more and more clear that I’m the reason it’s all changed. That because of my life, because I involved her in it, I stole all the very best parts of her. I push all the morbid thoughts from my mind and focus on her battered yet beautiful face.

“What? About the money?” I chuckle.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s a lot,” she says pointedly.

“It is. There is a lot more than that though. There’s always more money to be had.” I sigh. She stares at me hard. It makes me uncomfortable and nervous. I’m never one to fidget under pressure but Magnolia makes me someone I never thought I could be. It’s her allure.

“Okay.” She rests her head at my shoulder, tracing tiny shapes along my torso until I pull the blankets over us and she drifts off to sleep. I’m fighting sleep tonight. It feels like this is all too good to be true. Like a dream. I'm terrified to wake up in the morning and have her be gone.





Chapter 17





“I think…if it is true that there are as many minds as there are heads, then there are as many kinds of love as there are hearts.”- Leo Tolstoy


Her long black hair swished behind her as she walked across the street. I followed behind a few steps just to watch the sway of her hips and that ridiculous swish of her hair. She paused and looked over her shoulder curiously at me.

“What are you up to?” she laughed.

“Enjoying the view.” She’d snorted and kept right on walking. I ran to catch up with her. Tagging her hand I’d pulled her close to my side and kissed the spot behind her ear lightly.

“You about ready, love?” She’d looked up into my eyes and smiled that bright, easy smile that seemed reserved only for the people in her life that she loved the most. Aster, her parents and me. No one else got that ear-to-ear grin out of her. Every time it happened, even three years later, I felt like I was king of the world for drawing it out of her.

“I really wish I knew where you were taking me.” She sighed. I stopped her and turned her to face me.

“Trust me, baby?” I asked with a grin.

“Of course,” she’d replied instantly. I turned her back to my front and covered her eyes with one hand.

“Uh. Cane?” she’d spoken softly.

“Trust me.” She’d nodded slightly. I walked her up the porch steps of the building we were stopped in front of and carefully opened the door and led her inside.

“Step up,” I’d instructed.

“I really don’t want to trip,” she’d complained.

“I won’t let you.” Her sigh had been loud and irritated but I knew it’d be worth it in the end. “Another step,” I whispered in her ear. Goose bumps broke out down her arms. I loved that I still had that effect on her. Eight more steps and we were at the landing in front of the door. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the key to our new place. Careful to keep a hand on her eyes, I’d unlocked the door and led her inside the entryway.