Lead Me Home (Fight for Me #3)(15)

I also somehow understood there was no other place I could go tonight.

He’d found me exactly when I needed him before I’d even realized that need myself.

Maybe Ollie had been following his own path.

All I knew was he’d been there.

For me.

I had to be grateful for that.

He tossed me a look over his shoulder as he strode toward the building.

The man so gorgeous. Big boots eating up the ground with every mind-altering step.

So confident and brash and commanding.

“Comin’, Sunshine?”

That was Ollie’s way.

Reeling me closer, filling me up, and then cutting me free. Leaving me floating with no safe place to land.

I just prayed this time I landed on my own two feet.





7





Ollie





Footsteps pounded on the damp earth.

Desperate.

Frantic.

Trees rose on all sides, sentries and witnesses, and branches tore into my skin as I ran through the oppressive night.

Searching.

My eyes blurred in the darkness. Muddied by despair. I stumbled through the forest. Gnarled roots twisted, like spindly fingers that had clawed out of hell to hold me back.

Tears burned my cheeks as the wind blasted my face.

Cruel like the laughter I swore I heard before it was swallowed by a gust of air.

I screamed in the middle of it. “Sydney!”

Voice hoarse, throat bleeding with the pain. “Sydney!”

Sydney. Sydney. Sydney.

I dropped to my knees.

Sydney.



My eyes flew open, and my breaths jutted from my lungs in a panicked rhythm.

Pain lanced through my body.

Physical.

Rending.

Pain.

I deserved it, but sometimes I wished for one goddamned night of peace. I sat up on the side of my bed. With trembling hands, I raked back my hair that clung to my face, matted and sticky with sweat.

Blowing out a breath, I pushed to standing.

Through the faint light that bled into my darkened room, my gaze moved to the corkboard against the far wall. Like all of a sudden it might be pointing to the answer of a twisted, intricate mystery.

Revealing a secret.

Directing me to the missing piece.

All these years, that was what I’d done.

Dug.

Watched.

Waited.

Searching for . . . something.

Someday . . . someday I would find it.

Pushing out a strained breath, I shook off the memories.

Nothing but decay, eating away at my insides. Wondered when there would be nothing left.

I trudged for the door, needing to get out of this room where the nightmares always reigned.

Throat dry and desperate for something to cool the hell living in my belly, I stepped out of my room and headed down the hall.

At the end of it, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Motherfucker.

Motherfucker.

I scrubbed both hands over my face, wondering if I was hallucinating. If I’d thought my throat was dry before, I’d just landed myself in Death Valley.

All the lights in my place were off except for the one inside the refrigerator. The door was wide open, the stark, white light illuminating the tight, round ass that peeked out.

White underwear covered only half of her cheeks, and those long, long legs were bare.

Greed tumbled through me like a landslide.

I fisted my hands. “What in God’s name are you doing up?” I grated. My voice was so hoarse from sleep, making the words little more than a grunt. It wasn’t like I’d forgotten Nikki had slept in the guest room at the very end of the hall.

Just hadn’t anticipated finding her like this.

Gasping, she whirled around. Big, shocked eyes met mine like she hadn’t expected me any more than I’d expected her.

“Ollie, you scared the crap out of me,” she rasped.

That seemed to be the theme.

Her trembling hand flew to her throat like she was trying to ward off the shock. To reassure herself she wasn’t in any danger.

Standing there, I wondered if that was actually true. Because right then, I was feeling dangerous.

Volatile.

Liable to make all kinds of stupid decisions. Like that night close to a year ago, a night I could barely even remember. All I remembered was pulling that bottle from the shelf and trying to drown the grief.

Then I’d woken in her bed.

Her naked body against mine, the smell of her on my skin.

So fucking perfect in my arms.

It was etched and seared and woven with the faint flashes and taunts of memories.

Her sweet, sweet touch, and my desperate greed.

A permanent scar to remind me I couldn’t be trusted.

Especially with her.

The only thing she’d paired with those underwear was a thin, white tank top, her tiny tits exposed by the skin-tight fabric, nipples just barely peeking through.

My damned mouth watered.

Those stunning eyes sparked. Purple flames in my kitchen, burning me through as they went skating down my chest and abdomen.

The girl was drinking me in like she was just as thirsty as I was.

Not helping things, Sunshine. Not fucking helping things.

Clenching my fists, I did my best to convince my dick this girl was nothing but a skinny, bony stick and so not my type. Hardest part was convincing my traitor heart I hadn’t wanted her for my whole life.