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“I believe monsters come in all forms, Kathleen. Whether they are primal animals hunting for food or humans who refuse to accept humanity, they will always live in close proximity.”
“That’s very sad.”
“But a part of our lives.”
I nodded, as if in the darkness he could see my acknowledgement. I hated the fact I was shaking all over, my fear resonating from the basic realization that the horrors would continue. And there was nothing we could do about it. I closed my eyes, yanking the thin coat around me and falling into the hum of the massive engine.
“You belong to me, Kathleen. Never forget that.”
“Why?” I demanded, confronting him as I’d done several times.
“Because fate brought us together.”
I shifted, almost laughing at the thought. Fate. The warm hum that had surrounded me earlier seemed different, forcing me to open my eyes. I realized almost instantly that I’d been dreaming. “Where are we?”
“Almost there,” Max said in the kind of hushed voice that indicated remorse or perhaps guilt.
I sat up, fighting to push away the exhaustion. The darkness surrounding the truck was palpable, creating another wave of doubt as well as apprehension. When a few lights appeared in the distance, I was relieved. “Why did you move away from where you grew up?”
He chuckled and I heard the twist of his hand around the steering wheel. The man was as tense as I was. “My job. I wanted to be closer.”
“What did your family think?”
“There’s just my dad and he understood my decision.”
“What happened to your mom?” I wasn’t even certain why I asked.
Max took a deep breath before answering, scanning the rearview mirror as he talked. “My mother died almost twenty years ago. Her heart gave out. Nearly destroyed my father.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The silence was horrible, the tension almost as wretched as the rapid beating of my heart. “Did you ever have a family of your own?”
He turned his head slowly, the shimmer in his eyes stealing my breath. “I cared about someone a long time ago. She wasn’t the one. She needed to be safe.”
Safe. The single word was very odd, much like the man himself.
“I understand. No man could tolerate the fact I was a cop,” I laughed bitterly.
I could tell I wasn’t getting anything additional. As he drove through what appeared to be the main street through town, I couldn’t help but smile. Even at an ungodly hour in the middle of the night, the small shops and restaurants were brightly decorated, every location inviting.
Then he drove into another realm of darkness, the headlights highlighting a narrowing road. Even the terrain was bumpier, jostling the truck as he drove toward the mountains. I had difficulty keeping my eyes open.
I was only somewhat aware the rumble of the engine had ceased. Then I was in his arms. I was able to lift my head as he took long strides into some structure. He didn’t bother turning on a light before easing me down onto a soft surface. I was able to hear his boots as he moved around the room, wincing when the warm glow of a lamp filtered into the space.
He didn’t bother addressing me as he moved back outside, bringing in my two bags. When he closed the door, the hard thud of the lock being positioned into place was a reminder that this was no vacation. He remained quiet as he moved out of sight, carrying my things, walking up an ornate set of stairs. After watching him for a few seconds, I took the opportunity to survey my surroundings.
He’d called where we were going a cabin. From where I sat, the house was incredible; a massive stone fireplace leading up toward a cathedral ceiling, wooden floors that glowed even in the dim lighting, and beautiful yet very masculine leather furniture that reeked of the man himself. The expansive room was adorned with stunning area rugs and woodworking that must have cost a fortune. I had no idea why he wouldn’t want to live here.
When he returned, he didn’t waste any time, moving toward the fireplace and grabbing several pieces of wood positioned on the massive hearth.
“This is beautiful,” I said quietly, as if my voice would disturb his reverie.
He didn’t bother looking in my direction, merely continued building a fire. “My dad helped me build this place a few years ago. I always knew I’d come back one day.”
“I don’t blame you.”
The big, brooding man remained silent and when he was seemingly satisfied with the flames, he moved toward a cabinet on the other end of the room. He bent down, opening one of the doors, chuckling before pulling out a bottle. “Wasn’t certain you’d still be here. Damn good whiskey.” He seemed to notice my hard stare. “I’ve had a caretaker looking after the place in my absence. This was a special bottle of whiskey my father bought me. I wasn’t certain if Johnny had found it.”
