Last Kiss Goodnight

chapter Nineteen



Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.

—PROVERBS 13:12

HER FINAL WORDS WERE certainly fitting. Solo was choking on his solitude. His mind refused to settle, was stuck on one thought. She had liked his kiss, had wanted more. Not because she’d felt obligated to him or because she had wished to soften him. Just because.

He almost wished she hadn’t told him. Now his body hungered for her on a level he’d never before experienced, a level that mocked everything else he’d felt, as if he’d never really known what it was to crave something. Now he knew.

He wanted her desperately.

He needed her frantically.

He had to have her. Couldn’t hold out much longer.

But he had to hold out. Not for any of the reasons he’d previously entertained but for a new one. Reason one hundred and three. Already he reacted terribly when she was hurt. If he claimed her, he would grow more attached to her, and if he grew any more attached to her, he wasn’t sure how he would react when Jecis came to take her away. And Jecis would come to take her away.

Solo needed to think about the best course of action, the best way to handle this.

Vika had moved to the far corner of the cage, where the strongest beams of light hit but fewer bugs approached her. He claimed the center and lay flat on his stomach. He balanced his weight on his hands and his toes and pushed up, lowered, pushed up, working out the tension in his arms.

By the two hundredth descent, a slow burn had worked its way into his biceps. He did two hundred more before rolling to his back and performing just as many sit-ups. Sweat trickled down his chest and back in little rivulets. His mind whirled.

If Vika ever found out about his past . . . about his side job . . . she would no longer trust him on any level, and would not want him out of the cage. She would dump him into the same category of evil as her father and Matas.

She wouldn’t understand the difference between a necessary kill and a cold-blooded one. But then, she wouldn’t need to, he realized a second later. His kills hadn’t always been necessary. Sometimes he’d had to take out innocents to get to his targets—and those operations had been performed in cold blood.

Those were the jobs that had left a dark film of acid over his skin.

Those were also the jobs that had caused him to question his line of work, to debate leaving the agency. And really, he would have left a long time ago, if not for John and Blue. They’d needed him.

“What are you doing?” Vika asked, ending the cold-shoulder treatment.

“Exercising. Getting oxygen to my brain.” And maybe it was working.

His thoughts suddenly jumped from a curved road to a straight one. So what if he reacted terribly whenever she was hurt? So what if he grew any more attached to her? So what if she wouldn’t be happy with his job situation? No other man had ever kissed her. No other man had ever held her. Solo had been the first. A sense of possessiveness rose up inside him, consuming him.

Solo would be the only.

He would have her, he decided, and his motions slowed. He would enjoy her for whatever time they had left in these lands. He would be her man, and she would be his woman.

His woman. Oh, how he liked the sound of that. He would work to make it so. Whatever proved necessary.

With the decision, relief filled him, and inside, where instinct swirled, a sudden knowing bloomed. This was right. This was supposed to happen.

The revelation left him reeling. Used to be, he’d had a knowing each and every day, an internal knowledge that had nothing to do with an external voice. Truth had risen up inside him, urging him to do exactly what he needed to do to survive—and not just to survive, but to thrive. Go here. Don’t go here. Do this. Don’t do this.

But after too many promptings to do things he hadn’t really wanted to do—turn down a job, stay away from John or Blue for a certain length of time—he’d begun to rationalize. Maybe he had misunderstood, he’d told himself. Maybe he was missing it.

After he’d ignored one too many knowings, they’d just stopped rising, and he’d had only X to guide him. He’d convinced himself he was happier that way. But he hadn’t been happier. He’d ignored his companion, too, and had made stupid decisions, as evidenced by the explosion in Michael’s office. Well, no more. He wasn’t going to ignore another knowing. Not this time. This was right, and he would win Vika’s trust.

Before, he had scared her, had pushed for too much too fast. Solo would rather rot in this cage forever than frighten Vika in any way. He never wanted her to look at him as she looked at her father and Matas. He would go slowly this time, would ease her into every new experience.

And there was no better time to start. He straightened, his gaze locking on his beautiful Vika. Target acquired. Poor darling.

“What?” she asked, shifting uncomfortably. “Not that I’m speaking to you.”

Hadn’t ended the cold-shoulder treatment, after all. “I’m thinking.”

“About?”

“About our arrangement.” He looked her over, this fairy princess come to save the beast. Blond hair was tangled around a dirt-smudged face. Her hands nervously twisted the fabric of her shirt. He definitely had some preliminary work to do. But . . . he didn’t mind. Was actually thrilled by it.

He wanted more than sex, he realized.

He wanted to soothe and comfort her, to talk to and laugh with her. He wanted . . . everything. Her mind, her emotions, her thoughts, hopes and dreams. He wanted to learn about her, every little detail, and tell her about himself. He’d never before had that with a woman.

He wanted to know about the invisible man she’d mentioned. He’d wanted to question her right away but hadn’t let himself. That line of conversation would invite her to ask about X and Dr. E, and he wasn’t ready to confess. Did she have a protector, like him? Did she have a tormentor?

“Well,” she huffed, “there’s nothing you can ever say to make me speak to you again.”

His lips twitched with an amusement that was just as potent as his desire, astonishing him. “I’ll come up with something.”

“Want to bet?”

Oh, Vika. You are too adorable for words.

Now that he’d decided to have her, adorable was no longer such a terrible thing.

Solo considered his options. Exactly how was a man like him supposed to entice a female? What could he give her that she didn’t already have?

Well, he could think of one thing she’d probably never received. An apology. Determined, he closed the distance and sat directly in front of her. She refused to meet his gaze. He cupped her cheeks, paused to savor the softness of her skin, then forced her attention on him.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said gruffly. “I would have wanted kisses from you. I still do. You’re a beautiful woman, and I have wanted you since the first moment I saw you, even though you were appointed my keeper.”

Her eyes grew larger with every word he uttered. “You wanted me, even though I’m—”

“As small as a twelve-year-old boy? Smart-mouthed? Yes, even though.”

Expression beseeching, she curled her fingers around his wrist. “Be serious. Even though I’m Jecis’s daughter?”

Right now, she wasn’t the zoo owner’s daughter. She was Solo’s woman, and nothing else. But just like the physical aspect of their relationship, she wasn’t ready for that kind of boldness or that intense of a possession. So he did the only thing he could. He ignored the question and changed the subject.

“Just so you know, I’ve won our bet. You’re definitely speaking to me.”

A moment passed. A soft smile brightened her face. “And you’re forgiven for earlier.”

“That easily?” Surely not. If she were anything like him, she would keep a checklist of his transgressions, whether he apologized or not. After three, she would wash her hands of him. But then, no one could maintain a relationship when they kept a checklist, could they? The record keeper was always too conscious of the bad to concentrate on the good.

“You look astounded and suspicious,” she said, that smile widening. She could not be a mere mortal; she just couldn’t be. “I’m not sure why. You used the most pleading tone when you apologized, practically dripping with sincerity. I’m just sure of it.”

He laughed with hearty amusement, carefree in a way he’d never been, even outside the cage. But the sound cut off abruptly the moment he realized what he was doing, and only the crackling of the fire and the buzzing of the insects could be heard. He’d set out to charm her, but she was the one charming him.

• • •

“I want to play a game,” Solo said a little while later. He’d taken a bit of time to try to fortify himself against Vika’s allure, because he’d known he couldn’t dazzle her if he was always being dazzled. He’d thought he was ready.

“And you always get what you want?” she replied, her nose going in the air.

He’d thought wrong. “Is this a fit?” he asked, fighting a grin. “This seems like a little-girl-princess fit.”

She gasped with mock outrage. “How dare you! I do not have little-girl-princess fits!”

Will not laugh again. He sat across from her, a position he enjoyed. She was close enough to scent, close enough to touch, but just far enough away that he wasn’t tempted to dive on her—more than a few times. “Tell me. What do you do in your spare time?”

Her brow furrowed, her mock pique fading. “I don’t understand. What does that matter? What about the game?”

“We’re playing it right now.”

“Oh. And it is . . .”

“The question game.”

“Oh,” she repeated, still dazed and somewhat confused. “Well, what are the rules?”

“There’s only one. If I ask a question, you have to answer it.”

Understanding took hold, and her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Well, good luck. I’m playing to win.”

“Me too.” And he planned to win more than the game.

“Toss out question number one, and listen to me dominate.”

He enjoyed seeing her like this. Excited. Perhaps even happy. “I already did.”

“What did—oh, yeah.” Toying with the ends of her hair, she said, “On the days I’m forced to remain in my trailer I count my money and plan my future. What about you?”

He had to force himself to stare at anything but her hands. Her beautiful hands. So gentle. So feminine. Capable of delivering the most undeniable pleasure, he was sure. “I farm.”

Her mouth formed a large O as her gaze swept over him. “You don’t look like a farmer.”

Perhaps he shouldn’t stare at her mouth, either. “And you’ve met so many of us?”

“Well, no.” She lifted to her knees, practically bubbling over with enthusiasm. “Did you notice how quickly I answered that? I’m winning, aren’t I?”

The muscles in his stomach clenched as he said, “You’re definitely losing, and I’m definitely winning.”

She frowned, and he had to fight another laugh. “How?” she demanded.

“The more questions you can get a person to answer, the more points you earn. I’ve asked more questions.”

Her eyes narrowed, two lasers locked on him. “Perhaps I misunderstood the rules.”

“That’s understandable. You’re foreign.”

“But perhaps I didn’t,” she added. “You can’t just change them whenever you want.”

“I can, too. I’m the game’s inventor.”

“And what’s the score, Mr. Inventor?”

“Fifteen to one,” he said, choosing a number that wasn’t so high she couldn’t catch up, but wasn’t so low she could best him. “But because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll let you ask me the next question. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He tsked with false pity. “Another two points for me. One because you answered an unnecessary question and another because you fell for my trick. Better luck next time.”

“You dirty little swindler,” she said with a choked gurgle of delight that caused the muscles in his stomach to once again clench up. She tapped a finger against her chin, brightened. “Oh, I know! Will you tell me about your farm?”

“Of course.”

“Got you,” she said in a singsong voice. “Another point for me.”

Really will not laugh. “It’s situated miles from any other residence, and surrounded by rare clusters of trees.” Most forests had been burned to the ground during the human-otherworlder war. “There’s a natural spring that’s filled with fish, and birds constantly fly overhead. There are multiple flower and vegetable gardens, and there’s a pesky rabbit that likes to ruin both. I’ve named him Dead Man Hopping.”

Expression glazed with awe, she said, “I’ve never heard of such a promised land and cannot even picture its like.”

Maybe one day he would take her there.

The idea registered, and he froze. He’d once thought about locking her there, but now . . . he knew he would do no such thing. He wanted to have her there, yes, but he wanted her there of her own free will, happy and smiling. And naked.

“Do you have any secret talents?” she asked, unaware of his inner turmoil.

He had many secret talents, but there was only one he could share without scaring ten years off her life. “I can wrangle a bull with my bare hands.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Got you! That’s four points for me, for using your own trick against you twice, and practically in a row,” she said with a smirk. “And before you can ask, I’ll just tell. My secret talent is a backbend kick-over.”

He . . . had no idea what that was. “One day, I’ll want to see that.”

In a snap, all of her enjoyment drained. Her sparkle died.

“What?” he demanded, unsure what he’d done wrong.

“Those words . . .” she muttered. “ ‘One day.’ I hate them.”

“Why?” They were so innocent.

She waved the question away. “What’s, uh, your favorite memory?”

He wanted her back the way she was, and decided not to push for the truth. Not yet. Instead, he leaned forward, placing his lips at the hollow of her neck. “I’ll tell you, but I have to whisper because it’s personal.”

She shivered, the motion brushing her skin against his mouth.

He moaned. So soft, so warm.

She gasped. “Tell me.”

“What if I said it was when I kissed you?” he rasped through a throat gone tight.

Her pulse quickened, and he leaned back to study her expression. Spots of color had darkened her cheeks. Color that spoke of arousal, not panic. Exactly what he’d hoped to see.

“Was it?” she asked, hand fluttering over her heart.

“Yes.” And that was the truth.

“I would say . . .” She nibbled on her bottom lip, and his blood hummed with exhilaration.

Steady.

Another slow, luscious smile bloomed, lighting up her entire face. “I would say you owe me another point.”

A moment passed before her meaning sank in, and he nearly swallowed his own tongue. What a sneaky little vixen she was—a fact he liked. “What about you? What’s your favorite memory? And keep in mind, you’ll lose eight points if you refuse to answer.”

The nibbling started up again. “Do I get an extra point if my answer is the same as yours?”

Gonna kill me. “You get thirty extra points,” he croaked.

“Well, good.” She was the one to lean forward this time, warm breath stroking over his neck. “Because it is.”

The arousal heated, becoming white-hot, consuming. “Vika—”

In the distance, he heard footsteps. Moans, groans.

He checked the sky, saw that the sun was in the process of setting. Cursing under his breath, he dragged Vika to the center of the cage.

Her arms flailed as she struggled to remain upright. “What are you—”

“Lie down.” The moment he had her on her back, he stretched out beside her.

“The monsters,” she gasped.

“Concentrate on me.”

She paled, but she obeyed.

“What’s your greatest wish?” he asked to distract her.

The cage shook. Arms reached through the bars.

Vika looked, cringed.

Solo flattened his palm against her cheek, forcing her attention back to him. He marveled anew at the perfect texture of her skin, the purity of her features. “Do you want me to win?”

She shook her head, swallowed. “Well . . . for a long time, I wanted a baby brother. Then, after my father changed, I was happy I was an only child. I never wanted another child to suffer through the Wrath of Jecis.”

“He wasn’t always like this?” Solo asked, his thumb stroking her delicate bones. For once, he was beside her, her softness pressed against his hardness, and she was awake—yet still he couldn’t have her.

“No. He changed when he took over the circus. He actually wasn’t supposed to be the one to run it, because he had an older brother. But my grandfather and uncle died fighting each other during the passing of the scepter. Jecis was then thrust into the spotlight, and I guess he grabbed the reins of control with both hands.”

The change had to have startled a little girl unprepared for what loomed ahead. “I’m sorry.”

Her smile was soft, sad, and sweet all at once. “Thank you.”

One of the monsters stuck a leg through the bars in an attempt to kick them both to the other side, where other monsters waited, hoping to grab them. That was a new move. One he didn’t appreciate, especially when he was making such sweet progress with Vika.

Anger created little bonfires in already hot blood, the flames crackling and spreading.

He grabbed the monster by the ankle and jerked with all of his might. The leg detached from the body, and he tossed the appendage through the bars.

He regretted the action immediately. Blood had dripped across the cage floor. Worse, Solo had partially morphed. His skin was now red, and his fangs and claws peeked out. Vika had to be scared out of her—

“Do you have a best friend?” she asked him, as if nothing had happened.

For a moment, he could only lie there, staring at her. “You don’t want to discuss what just happened?”

“Why would I?”

“I just ripped—I mean, I just helped that creature shed twenty pounds in less than a second.”

“I know. You saved me. Again. So, a best friend,” she prompted.

Perhaps she would always amaze him. “John and Blue. They’re like brothers to me.”

“What about the names etched into your arm?”

“Mary Elizabeth and Jacob. My parents. They died in a car crash.” An ache in his chest.

Sympathy in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“I would have given anything to have them back forever, and still would. Or at the very least, to have them back for five minutes, just to tell them just how much I loved them and how sorry I was for my behavior.”

“I’m sure they knew how much you loved them.”

He hoped so. “I moved out at the age of seventeen, when I found out how much they were being paid to keep me. I thought they’d been nice for the money rather than because of any affection they had for me.” A supposition Dr. E had encouraged. “But my mother called me at least once a day. At first I ignored her, but she never gave up. We started talking again, and she told me they’d placed every cent in an account for me. I felt so bad, so foolish.”

“But I bet she forgave you right away.”

“She did.” And Solo had fallen that much more in love with Mary Elizabeth Judah. “But one day she failed to call me, and I was out on a . . . I was unable to call her. Six days passed before I could get to a phone. She didn’t answer. I returned to the farm—and found her and my father inside their truck, deep in the heart of their land, smashed into a tree, their bodies slumped over in the seats.” He still wasn’t sure what had caused the accident. Not a faulty break line. Not gunshots.

They’d been there seven days.

After an autopsy, it was revealed that his father had had a heart attack and wrecked, and Mary Elizabeth had died on impact, her side of the vehicle taking the bulk of the damage.

“Oh, Solo. I’m so sorry,” Vika said again. She cupped his cheeks as he’d often done to her. “Such loss . . . it’s a terrible thing, something that hurts you on an indescribable level.”

Yes. “Do you have a best friend?” he asked, changing the subject before he broke down. He didn’t want her to see him that way.

“I . . . well . . . hmm.”

Surely she did. She was so lovely, so kind and perfect. People had to flock to her.

Although, she had grown up in an abusive home and such an upbringing could warp a person’s mind. It had John No Name’s. Solo had watched, helpless, as the happy, loving boy he’d met for the first time in Michael’s office all those years ago had quickly become quiet and withdrawn. And then the outbursts had begun. Anytime anyone had touched him, John had reacted with a cutting rage even Solo had not displayed.

Solo had no idea what had been done to the boy John had been, but, as many criminals as Solo had studied over the years, he could guess. And even after Michael had pulled John from the home and placed him somewhere safe, the boy hadn’t relaxed his guard. In fact, he’d become more determined to remain aloof.

John trusted no one, believed in no one, and believed the worst of everyone he encountered. That was no way to live.

Yet it was exactly how he had been living, Solo realized.

Solo wasn’t sure what was worse. His and John’s determination to remain alone, or Blue’s determination to have a partner, any partner. Over the years the male had plowed through women as if they were disposable tissues. He had lived with a woman for a year and was now engaged to another, but he had not been faithful to either one, choosing the job over romance, always doing what Michael told him to do.

They all had.

“You want the truth?” Vika asked, hesitant.

He pulled himself from his mind. “Always.”

Softly she admitted, “You’re the only friend I’ve got.”

The knowledge floored him. Humbled him. “I consider that a privilege, Vika.”

She patted around until she found his hand, and then she twined their fingers, shocking him, delighting him. He’d never held a woman’s hand, not even Abigail’s.

He brought her knuckles to his lips, kissed each one. “You would like John and Blue, I think. We’ve known each other since the age of five, and we’ve always looked out for each other. They’re big, like me, and they’re fierce, but they would protect you with their lives.” Just because he asked.

Her features softened, becoming wistful. “Once, I had friends like that. They were the animals I used to tend. The lions and apes and bears.”

This little fluff of nothing had handled dangerous predators? “Did they ever hurt you?”

“At first, they were quite leery of me. We soon got to know each other, however, and everything changed.” The wistfulness vanished, replaced by a dreamy haze that even saturated her voice, and he would not have been surprised to learn she had actually stepped from a storybook and the animals had followed, licking at her feet.

“You loved them?”

But even the dreamy haze vanished. “Yes,” she said flatly.

“What happened to them?”

“They died. The end.” The words, so sharply uttered, told him far more than she’d probably intended.

“Vika,” he said. For this, he would push. He had to know. “I’m willing to forgive you as easily as you forgave me, and you won’t even have to apologize.”

Her brows furrowed. “For what?”

“For . . .” Making my body ache and my mind crave an impossible future—

“. . . interesting me in your past, and then holding the stories hostage.”

Her lips curled in a sensual grin. “You want a story?”

“I do.”

“Give me one first. How were you captured?”

How much to tell her? “An explosion injured me. A man decided to sell me to Jecis, while I was too weak to fight back. Now, how did your animals die?”

A shiver moved through her, and she nervously licked her lips. “My father.”

Thought so. “He killed them.” A statement, not a question.

“He did . . . right in front of me. He even made me shoot my lion, One Day.”

One Day. Why were those words so—ah. He got it. The words made her think of her pet, of what she’d lost, of what she’d had to do.

Solo could feel the bones in his fingers curling, knew it was only a matter of time before the nails in his left hand dug into her pretty cheek and the nails in his right dug into the top of her hand. He withdrew both, flattening his palms beside her temples.

The action shouldn’t have been arousing, but it was. He surrounded her, was all that she could see.

“I’ve known people like your father,” he said. “If you stay at the circus, Jecis will eventually kill you.”

Twin spots of pink painted her cheekbones, and whether they were born of shame or anger, he wasn’t sure. “He wasn’t the one who beat me this time.”

“I know. Matas was, but your father has beaten you. Yes?”

She meshed her lips together, refusing to answer.

“Yes,” he answered for her. “You don’t deserve what they do to you, Vika. You need to leave them.”

“I will,” she said with the determination he’d come to expect from her. “And I told you, I plan to. I’ve been selling everything of value that I can, saving and hiding the cash as quickly as possible to buy a new identity and to be able to support myself. I have to be able to support myself. I don’t have any skills, and I cannot place myself under another man’s control.”

She wanted out, which he’d known, but she was wisely trying to achieve her goals, which he hadn’t known. Good girl. He was proud of her, and utterly relieved. “You nearly sliced off my balls when I grabbed you,” he reminded her. “I’d say you can protect yourself.”

“I also stabbed Matas,” she whispered, with just a hint of shame.

“I’m glad,” he replied, clearly startling her.

The suns began to rise, and the monsters began to back away. Perfect timing.

“You lack confidence, however, and I can remedy that.” He stood, held out his hand, and waved his fingers in her direction. This is dangerous. If you handle her, you won’t be able to mute your body’s reaction. Hunger will consume you. You’ll push her to do something she’s still not ready for. “I will teach you everything you need to know.”