The Silkie's Call Page 5

  “Ciaran!” Carrick called. “Wait!” he brushed past his elder son. Cayden let him go. He turned to his mother instead, his eyes filled with disillusionment.

  “How could you?” he asked. “You knew how much she meant to me, how much we meant to each other. Yet you never said a word. Not then and not now.”

  “I only wanted what I thought was best for you, son. She was only going to bring you pain, and her father would never let you near her.”

  Cayden looked at his mother and shook his head slowly. “Well you have achieved one of your goals very successfully because she definitely doesn’t want me near her. Unfortunately, she also called to me tonight. So now I must find a way to finish what started fourteen years ago, continued seven years ago, and has now begun again. Only now it’s with a woman who went into hysterics when I came near her. Her cousin carried her away while she begged him to get her away from me.

  “I won’t leave her. I can’t leave her. And now I have to make her mine, or die.” He ignored the tears his mother shed. “So what have you really accomplished? You’ve driven Ciaran away. You’ve driven me away.”

  “Cayden,” she pleaded. “Sleep on it. Let’s talk about it in the morning. We can find a way to work it out…to help you.”

  Cayden laughed bitterly. “I got along for seven years without your help. I guess I can keep on.”

  “Cayden!” his mother cried. “No!”

  “Goodbye, Mother.”

  Carrick stood on the deck, alone. Cayden could only surmise that Ciaran had left already.

  “You’re leaving.” His father said it as a statement, not a question. He looked at his son and his face was suddenly bleak. “You’re going to her, aren’t you?”

  “If she’ll even have me. She’s terrified of me for some reason, yet she called to me, so tradition says I must answer…”

  “Or die trying,” his father finished. He looked away for a moment, and his face suddenly twisted with pain. “I wish I’d killed her that day,” he said softly. “God forgive me, I wish I’d killed her!”

  Chapter 5

  Tears rolled down her cheeks as Taylor put Annabel through the motion exercises the next morning. It was more than just physical exhaustion; she was mentally wiped out as well. He gave her valium when they were done. She welcomed the relaxation and the grogginess like an old friend. They were old friends. Seven years worth of friendship. Only Taylor had been her friend longer. As she popped the pill, she thought again about upping the dosage for a little chemical timeout, but the image of her father stopped her. She couldn’t take that same way out.

  “It’s the last of the valium, Poppy,” Taylor said. “I’ll need to go to town to get it refilled. Do you want to stay in your bed, or what?”

  She tried hard to focus on him. Stay in her bed all day? It was too much like the hospital. “The lounge on the porch would be nice. There’s a good breeze and I can look at the water.”

  “Do you want your chair, or will you be all right until I get back?”

  “I’ll be fine. I left my crutches on the dock last night.”

  “Already got them,” he grinned. “I woke up early.”

  Taylor brought her a book to read, but Annabel set it on her lap unopened. She barely spared him a wave as he took off in the Miata to get her meds. The distant sound of the water and the breeze gently blowing was peaceful. Just what she needed. Exhaustion made it impossible to focus. Combine that with the drugs, and she was soon sound asleep.

  ****

  That was how Cayden found her. She looked like an angel dressed in a white sundress with her long hair in curls all around her face. He didn’t want to frighten her again, so he simply sat in the chair nearest the lounge and waited. He studied her as she slept.

  He hadn’t gotten a good look at her while they were at Stan’s and then it had been dark on the beach. Seven years had changed her. The fullness of face of her early teens had given way to finely molded features that would keep her beautiful for an eternity. Hers were no manufactured good looks that would fade with age. While her arms and shoulders appeared slender, he saw the muscle definition in them. His gaze wandered to her legs and he scowled. They looked normal. There was good muscle tone there, and he had seen her swimming. So why hadn’t she been able to stand? Had it been just the alcohol after all? No, he had seen the crutches. His parents’ reaction had confirmed it.

  His gaze wandered back up to her face. Shadows. They lay like bruises beneath the half moons of her lashes. A faint hitch in her brows showed she spent a lot of time concentrating. He supposed she must. Her lashes fluttered open, and her mouth began to form a scream.

  “No one will hear you, Bell,” he interjected softly. “Your cousin is away. I made sure of that.”

  “Please leave.” Her deep blue eyes begged with an intensity he could barely withstand.

  “Not until you hear me out.”

  She turned her head away from him and stared out toward the sea, leaving him to look at the delicate line of her jaw where it blended into her throat.

  “I didn’t know, Bell.” His voice was urgent. “They took you away before I knew, and then no one would let me near you.”

  “Liar,” she hissed, turning a face to him that was wild with hurt. “You left me just as soon as you found out I wouldn’t be able to walk!”

  “No!” He was horrified, but her expression showed she truly believed that. “Fuck! Someone told you that? Told you that I left because you were paralyzed?”

  Her silence was all the answer he needed. Something cold settled around his heart. They had both been young and vulnerable and they’d been manipulated by the adults in their lives.

  ****

  Annabel watched him. Cayden sat very still in the chair across from her, his hands gripping the arms until his knuckles showed white against his tan. His eyes were downcast, so she was unable to read his expression, but she could see the muscles clearly working in his jaw.

  “Before they took you away,” he said softly, “my mother let me come in to the cabin to say goodbye. Were you able to hear what I told you then?”

  She lifted her chin and stared back out to sea again. Of course she remembered. She’d heard the words almost every night since then in her dreams, but she had long since stopped believing in the truth of them, and she hated the bitterness and cynicism that had filled the hole left behind by that betrayal.

  “I love you Annabel Lee. That’s what I told you.”

  Her mouth twisted. “You have a strange way of showing it.”

  “I also told you something else. I would come back to you again. No matter what.”

  The hurt broke through her wall of cynicism. She turned on him. “Then why did you leave?”

  “I tried to see you in the hospital. Your father had me escorted out of the building the first time. The second time, he had me arrested.”

  She stared at him. Her father? Had him arrested? It couldn’t be true. “I don’t believe you.”

  Cayden laughed bitterly. “And I now have no way to prove it, do I? Your father is dead, and my arrest was a juvenile offense, so my record is clear now. So where does that leave us my beautiful Annabel? My word against a dead man?”

  “Nowhere. It leaves us nowhere. And I want you to go away.”

  Inside she was in turmoil. She didn’t want to believe it, but somewhere deep inside there was a ring of truth to what he said that just hadn’t been in her father’s or her aunt’s voices.

  Now she could hardly bear to look at Cayden, and it wasn’t because of the lies that had pulled them apart. He was so handsome. At seventeen, he’d captivated her teenage heart, but now he mesmerized her as a man. And he was once again trying to weave his way back into her life. What was worse was she knew she would let him if he were around very much. Just looking at him now stirred desires she’d thought were dead. Moisture flooded between her thighs along with an ache to feel him touch her there. She watched his nostrils flare and knew he had picked up her scen
t.

  No. She wouldn’t survive if he left again. She barely survived the last time. Everyone—doctors, nurses, and her father—thought her depression was because of her injuries, but the true source of her depression was Cayden, the boy who promised to love her, then left her alone when she needed him the most.

  “Does your cousin live with you?” he asked out of the blue, his voice harsh. “Is that why you won’t let me back in?”

  She stared at him aghast. “You think I’m living with my cousin? You think Taylor is my lover ?” Her voice started to rise. Anger broke through the fog of her medication. How could he always manage to wound her so easily? She wanted to get away from him, needed to get away, but she was trapped. Damn her legs! She had neither her crutches nor her wheelchair. It was suffocating, frustrating, and maddening.

  “Bell…” Cayden’s voice was meant to soothe, but she was in no mood for that.

  “Get out. Get out of my house.” She clenched her hands into fists in her lap, her rage all the greater because she felt so impotent. She knew she sounded hysterical, but she couldn’t seem to stop it, and that made her even angrier.

  Tires crunched on the gravel, and a moment later Taylor leaped up the front steps making a beeline for Cayden. The two men were of similar size, both powerfully and athletically built.

  “I thought I told you last night to stay the fuck away from her,” Taylor snarled. Without waiting for an answer, he swung his fist. There was a sharp smack as it connected solidly with Cayden’s jaw. It could have been a rock. He simply shook his head and snarled as he came toward Taylor, his punch catching her brother in the gut so that the air whooshed out of his lungs.

  They had both settled into fighting stances, warily circling, looking for an opening to land a punch or snag a leg.

  “Stop it!” Annabel cried. “Stop it! Both of you!”

  Neither man listened. The punches continued to fly. Somehow, both men ended up off the porch and in the front yard. Insults and threats flew back and forth nearly as fast as fists.

  “I told you to stay away.”

  Punch.

  “Me? You’re the sick son of a bitch who’s living with her.”

  Punch.

  “I didn’t fucking walk away and leave her.”

  Punch.

  “You’re her damn cousin, you sick shit.”

  Punch!

  “Cousin, hell!”

  Annabel couldn’t take any more. She swung her legs off the lounge, realized her crutches were still inside, and dragged herself to the porch railing for support. Sweat popped out on her forehead as she rested most of her weight against her arms and slowly, painfully shuffled along until she reached the steps. Her breath came in gasps.

  “Stop!” she cried hoarsely, but neither man could hear her. They were bloody by now. Taylor’s nose was bleeding and Cayden’s brow was split open.

  Annabel stood at the top of the steps. There were only three of them, but it might as well be the top of a cliff for all of the ability she had to negotiate them. She looked at the two men still slugging away and then back down at the steps. This couldn’t go on. She had to stop it. God, if only she could feel her feet. Clutching the railing tightly, she stepped down.

  “Poppy! No!”

  But Taylor’s warning came too late. As her leg crumpled, she felt her weight shift forward even more and she lost her grip on the slick railing. Time slowed, making her aware of the sudden, heavy beat of her heart, the certain knowledge that she was helpless to stop what was happening. Rather than a sensation of falling, the stairs instead seemed to rise to meet her. In her mind, she could already feel the bite of the hard wood against her flesh, and she opened her mouth to scream. It died on her lips as strong arms abruptly caught her, holding her tightly.

  “Bell! Are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?”

  Cayden’s voice and hands shook as he held her close against him. Taylor was there next to her too. She looked between their two battered faces, and her anger dissolved into embarrassment. She had caused this. Her throat tightened. She wouldn’t cry, damn it. She had shed too many tears over the years, and it would be just the final humiliation.

  “Don’t fight,” she choked. “Please!”

  She reached for Taylor. Her senses overwhelmed by Cayden’s feel and smell; she needed the safety of her brother.

  ****

  Cayden let her go, feeling a blow just as sharp as any that the other man landed. He looked at the two of them sadly. If Taylor was who she wanted, he wouldn’t hurt her, not just to satisfy a tradition. What his own fate would be didn’t matter, because without Bell, there was no reason to go on. He started to turn away, and then he felt her hand on his arm. He stopped his posture tight as he stared down at the long fingers curved around his forearm.

  “He’s my brother, Cayden, not my cousin.”

  “Huh?” A wild surge of hope raced through him. God, if he could only believe that.

  “It’s true,” Taylor admitted.

  “But…” Cayden looked at the two of them. Really looked. Once it was put into words, it was more than obvious. Their coloring was almost identical. Phillip Barton’s coloring, not Helen or George Stokes’ and when he looked at Taylor, he saw Barton clearly stamped on his features. He wanted to ask questions, but figured now was not the time.

  “Please don’t fight anymore.” Annabel’s voice interrupted the chaotic hopes swirling in his head. “Come into the house, so I can clean you both up. Please.”

  Cayden hung back as Taylor swung Bell into his arms. She looked at him over Taylor’s shoulder, her expression wary and guarded. He had hoped to see love, but at this point, anything other than panic or fright was a gigantic step forward.

  “Come in, Cayden. Let me at least get your face cleaned up. I wouldn’t want your mother to be angry.” With all that had happened to her, how could she be worried about that?

  His mouth twisted. “You don’t need to be concerned on that score.”

  Cayden followed them into the house. It hadn’t changed much in seven years. Bare floors and comfortable furniture. A home, not a showplace.

  “Do you want your crutches or your chair?” Taylor murmured, but Cay couldn’t hear her reply.

  “Go on in the kitchen,” Taylor directed him. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

  Cayden sat down, still looking around him curiously. Taylor came back first, but Bell was right behind him. Jesus! His breath caught and his chest tightened painfully. The chair made her paralysis real in a way it hadn’t yet been. He had seen the crutches, but not her using them. He watched how easily she maneuvered the chair, the definition in her arm muscles now readily apparent as she deftly rolled through the kitchen. It was a part of her, and he knew his ability to accept it would determine what happened in their relationship.

  ****

  She had a first aid kit balanced on her lap as she wheeled up to the table, pausing to set it on top. She glanced at Taylor and smiled. “Sorry, bro, guests first. Just pinch your nose together until I can get to you.”

  “Bud wud if ids broke?” Taylor whined.

  She glowered at him. “Tough. I didn’t tell you to start throwing punches over me. Do like I do. Take one of my valiums. Then you won’t care.”

  She turned her attention to Cayden, trying to avoid his gaze as she cleaned the cut just below his eyebrow. He winced, but continued to stare at her with his velvety eyes. Her hand trembled slightly, and she resented how it revealed her nervousness.

  “This could really use a stitch, Cayden,” she said softly.

  “It will heal. Stick a butterfly bandage on it.”

  She nodded and found what she needed in the first aid kit.

  “Could you move your chair closer?” She refused to meet his eyes as she made the request.

  He slid forward, bracketing her legs with his own. She looked down at his knees. They were flush against the wheels of her chair. Heat shot through her. For just an instant she closed her eyes, imagining so
many might-have-beens.

  “You’re more beautiful than ever, Bell,” he whispered.

  Her eyes snapped open as she dropped the box of bandages in her lap. “Don’t, Cayden,” she hissed. “Just don’t.”

  He nodded, and winced at the movement. Annabel’s mouth pressed into a thin line as she finished the bandage. She was now more aware of him than she’d ever been. If she reached out just a little bit, she could touch him, run her fingers down his chest and lower. As she noticed the bulge in his khakis, her eyes jerked back up to his face. Cayden stared steadily at her, not acknowledging in any way the erection tenting his pants. She felt Taylor watching both of them as he stood off to one side pinching his nostrils together. It made her feel awkward and stilted. Even Taylor must see what was going on. How could Cayden want her? Pity? But pity wouldn’t give him a hard-on.

  “You’re going to have a black eye. Do you want to put some ice on it?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  They could be strangers. Maybe it was better that way, but she so didn’t want it to be.

  She turned her head over her shoulder. “Would you get him a bag of ice, Taylor? Then I’ll get to you and your nose.”

  While Cayden rested his head against the bag of ice, Annabel turned her attention to Taylor. His nose looked slightly swollen, but it didn’t appear to be broken. She gently cleaned the blood off his face and stared at him. He, too, looked like he was getting a black eye.

  “You’re getting that look, Poppy,” Taylor said cautiously. “Don’t lecture.”

  She raised her brows and slapped the antiseptic wipe down on the table. At least this was ground she felt comfortable with.

  “Lecture? Why would I lecture just because two big idiots start throwing punches at each other? Why would that be a thing to lecture about? All I’m going to do is get another bag of ice so you can put it over your eye. Then the two of you can commiserate together.”