Caveman

I chew on my lower lip. “I’ll tell you later. Do you know the name of the motel, Merc?” He does. I repeat it to John after I disconnect the call. “What now?”


“You stay put,” John says. “I have posted police around your mother’s house, too. Stay safe until we catch this guy and take him in for questioning.”

“Good call,” Matt says quietly. “You stay here with me, Tay.”

“Yes,” I whisper.

Besides, where else would I ever want to be?



We return to the kids’ side. We curl up together on the armchair, just breathing each other in watching TV on mute and guarding the kids’ sleep.

Waiting for news.

My head is buzzing. I can’t believe I almost went out with that creep, that I talked to him, considered dating him. That I was taken in by his good looks and easy manners.

A charmer, but cruel inside.

While Matt who looked like a beast when I first met him, acted like one, too, but he is all I want, all I need.

Curled up in his lap, I bury my nose in the crook of his neck, inhale the clean musk of his male sweat. The most expensive perfume in the world doesn’t hold a candle to this guy’s natural scent.

“Are you sniffing me?” he rumbles.

“Yes.”

He snorts. I lick the skin of his neck, and he shivers. “Don’t start what we can’t finish,” he warns, his cock hardening under my legs. “Christ.”

“You smell good,” I inform him and bite lightly, tasting salt and sugar, and he hardens more, shifting uncomfortably underneath me. “Taste good, too.”

He grunts, his heart hammering against me. “Fuck.”

“Hm… Maybe later?” I cup his cheek, turn his head toward me and kiss him. He groans in my mouth, grabs my hips and rocks me against his hard-on until we’re both breathless and moaning.

God, he’s right. We can’t finish this now.

And somehow we’ve made enough noise to wake up the kids. They’re beginning to stir, blinking innocent, sleepy eyes at us.

So I climb off Matt regretfully and give him one last, lingering kiss. “I’m going to make us some dinner, okay?”

He reaches down, adjusts himself in his pants. He’s so hard, so visibly aroused, and the sight makes my mouth water. “Wait until I get you alone.”

Snickering, I leave him, trying to ignore the throbbing deep inside me? my need for him. Later. The kids need to eat, and so do we. It’s been a long day, and it’s late afternoon by now.

My stomach growls at the realization, and I open the fridge, going through what we have, trying to decide what to prepare. Something easy. The kids always love pasta, so that’s an easy bet.

I rummage through the cupboards, coming up with enough ingredients to make a nice big pot. Spaghetti, sauce, sausage, cheese, all the good stuff.

Humming to myself, I fill a pot with water and slice up the sausage. Everything will turn out okay. So this Jeff duped me. So what. I’m not the first or the last girl to be taken in by a guy. A dangerous, mentally unstable guy, from the looks of it.

I couldn’t have known. But now he’ll be caught and we’ll all be safe again. And after days and weeks pass, I’ll stop looking over my shoulder all the time, and the kids will be able to play in the yard and on the porch.

We won’t stay locked up in here forever.

And then maybe Matt and I, we can have some time alone. We can talk, and kiss, and make love. In a bed, for a change, not that everything we’ve done so far wasn’t crazy good, but… With time. Time to see the whole of him, trace his tattoos, trace his scars.

Learn how to give him pleasure.

Smiling, I look up, and see someone outside the kitchen window. It’s a cop, I realize. He’s gesturing at me, and as he approaches the kitchen door, I wipe my hands on a kitchen towel and go to see what he wants.

I open the door, trying to see him in the low afternoon light, and he tips his hat at me. Such an old-fashioned, charming gesture. I take two steps outside, waiting to hear if he has news, if they found anything.

He grabs me, slams a hand over my mouth, and I jerk and writhe, panic and fear shooting through me like electric shocks.

Then something pricks my neck like a bee sting, and the world fades.





Chapter Forty-One





Matt




Mary is blinking at me with wide eyes, still unfocused from sleep. I unfold from the armchair and go to sit beside her, petting her hair.

“Hey, baby girl.” My little princess. How did I waste so much time I could have spent with her? Barely watched her grow. “I’m here.”

She relaxes, and smiles up at me. “Daddy,” she whispers. It twists my heart sweetly in my chest.

Cole yawns, then reaches up and pulls on his sister’s hair.

She yelps, then shoves at him.

Jesus Christ. Snickering, I untangle Cole’s little hand from her hair and lift Cole in my arms so that I can sit with them. Mary instantly climbs on me, too, and I wrap my other arm around her, so unbelievably fucking glad to have them both safe and sound with me.

“Where’s Tati?” Mary asks, and I kiss the top of her curly blond head.

“Kitchen. Making us some dinner.”

“Mac-un-chee,” Cole states.

“Mac and cheese?”

He nods emphatically.

“Well, I’m sure she knows what you like.” And isn’t that thought a damn warm fuzzy, that I love a girl who also loves my kids?

“I’m hungry,” Mary says in a whiny voice, but it’s not annoying like it used to be.

Or maybe I’m not as pissed with every little fucking thing as I used to be.

“Why don’t we go see what she’s making?” I suggest and groan as I get to my feet with both kids in my arms. “You guys are getting big.”

“I’m little like a butterfly,” Mary says and grins at me.

The brat. “Really? Like a butterfly?”

“I am a rocket,” Cole says, not to be left out.

“Okay, buddy.” I shake my head, laughing, as we enter the kitchen.

And freeze.

Because the door is open, and there’s no sign of Octavia.

“Tay?”

It doesn’t mean anything, I tell myself even as my breathing stops. I walk to the door, glance out.

Nobody is there.

Maybe she stepped out to… take out the trash or whatever. Talk to John.

But John wouldn’t come to the back door. He wouldn’t take Octavia out of the house without letting me know.

She wouldn’t have gone out without telling me.

“Daddy?” Mary whimpers.

“It’s okay,” I whisper and I run with the kids to the front door, open it. The police car is sitting outside, a cop inside, reading something on his phone.

Fuck.

I walk out to the porch and down the steps in a daze. I stumble down the path, and the cop sees me and climbs out of the car.

“Mr. Hansen?” he says, sounding uncertain. “Is everything all right?”

“Where is Octavia?” I ask him, hoping against all hope that he knows, that this isn’t as fucking bad as it looks. “Where is she?”

“Octavia? She was inside with you. I…” He falters, his eyes widening. “She’s not?”

“No, she’s not,” I say tiredly even as my heart booms and slams around inside my chest as if trying to break out. “Tell John Elba that Octavia’s missing.”

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