Reaper's Property(73)

Serena disappeared and I wanted to protest. I didn’t want Horse’s whore touching my things. I bit my lip, remembering Jeff’s email. Horse killed people. Maybe women like me. Children. I thought about his guns, how easily he handled them, how he’d made me practice for hours with my little .22. I remembered our first night together, when we’d watched the Johnny Depp flick and he’d talked about how the hand-to-hand combat was all wrong.
I guess he’d know.
Horse crawled into bed beside me, buck-naked, spooning me and wrapping around my body like a big, warm blanket. My body craved his heat, soaking it up even as my mind stayed cool and detached. The more I warmed up the harder I shivered until my jaw hurt from clenching my teeth and I ached. Serena bustled in with my things at some point, then closed the door and disappeared. The entire time Horse made soothing noises and rubbed me softly, and for once he didn’t try to touch my breasts or reach between my legs. Finally I stopped shivering and I drowsed.
“Babe,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head softly. “Babe,” he said again, shaking me gently. I stirred against him, and he rolled me over and onto my back, rising over me on his elbows. “Why was the window open? What happened?”
He sounded so worried, so loving. Would a murderer be able to fake that kind of emotion? But how many times had I looked at Horse and thought he was more like two different men—good and bad—stuck in one body? I couldn’t explore that right now, I couldn’t let him know what I’d found out.
“I just needed some fresh air,” I said, deliberately keeping my voice soft and weak. It wasn’t much of a stretch. “It got stuck and I couldn’t get it closed again. The room got colder and colder and I waited too long before I left to get help. It’s okay, I’m fine, Horse. Honestly.”
“Why are you always saying that to me?” he asked, although it seemed like he was talking to himself. “You’re so strong, always strong. You shouldn’t have to be that way. I should’ve been there for you. I’m so sorry, babe.”
I shook my head, closing my eyes and turning away from him. His body felt good on mine, strong and safe like always. I felt his penis harden and his hips flexed, almost involuntarily. The achingly familiar chemistry between us came to life and my nipples tightened as my legs shifted restlessly. He started kissing me near my ear, sucking and licking his way down my neck toward my breast, sending tendrils of sensation racing through me. When he sucked my nipple into his mouth I cried out, then reached down and grabbed his hair, pulling him away.
“I can’t do this right now,” I whispered. He sighed and rolled over next to me.
“It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice firm. I looked over at him, panicked. In addition to everything else, could he read my mind or something? How did he know what I’d found out? Was he monitoring my phone?
“Serena is an old friend,” he said. “I’ve known her for years. We’ve slept together, I won’t lie to you about that, but nothing was happening between us tonight. We were just joking around.”
My eyes opened wider as I processed what he’d said. Serena. The woman on the couch. I felt hysterical laughter bubbling up in my throat and I swallowed it down painfully. This was a good thing, I realized. I could use this as an excuse to be angry with him. He expected it, he deserved it, and he wouldn’t have to know that my mind was way too full of visions of him killing Afghani children to give a flying f*ck about him and Serena.
“You promised,” I said, letting the tears I’d been holding back well up in my eyes. Might as well let them out while I had an excuse. They started falling and I gulped. “You promised that you wouldn’t be with those other women, the night we decided to give this a shot. You lied to me.”
“I haven’t been with any other women,” Horse said, his voice a mixture of frustration and something else I couldn’t identify. “I was talking to an old friend. She’s got someone else in her life and I’ve got you. I was just killing time, waiting until it got late enough for me to leave and come back up to you.”
“Can we not talk about this right now?” I asked, trying to roll away from him. He held me, taking my chin and making me look at him.
“Fight with me all you want, babe,” he said. “But you don’t turn away from me. Let’s talk about this.”
“I don’t want to talk,” I whispered, feeling panic rise again. He searched my face, mouth hardening.
“Is there something else?” he asked. “Have you heard from your brother? Tell me. I’m here for you, Marie.”
Shit.
“Let me check my email,” I said quickly. I pulled away from him and started to get up, but he stopped me, getting up and digging my phone out of my jeans pocket himself.
“Here,” he said, handing it to me. I turned it on and clicked on the email app—the one linked to my main account. There it was, the fake message Jeff had promised.
“He wrote,” I said.
“Read it to me.”
“He says, ‘So sorry about all this, sis. I got your message about coming in and talking to the Reapers. I’m not sure I can do that. No offense, but I’m pretty sure they’re planning to kill me. Talk to them, find out if they’re willing to make a deal and get back to me. I love you. Jeff’ That’s all of it.”
“About what I expected,” Horse said slowly, climbing back into bed. “I’m not surprised he doesn’t trust us. He’s scared and he should be. Odds are good he’s not gonna survive this. But there’s a huge difference between staying in bed with the Jacks or trying to make peace with us. He needs to wrap his head around that.”