Redemption Hills: The Complete Collection

20. Eden

TWENTY

EDEN

Fierce arms wrapped around me from behind. A fortress. A shield.

At the contact, a deep, guttural sob ripped from me, this agonized cry as I turned and buried my face in his chest.

“Why would someone do this?” Horror heaved from my mouth. “Why?”

Trent only curled his arms tighter around me, tucking me close, though I could feel him trembling. Trembling with rage. Trembling with his own fashion of fear.

“I’ve got you, Eden. I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you. No one.” Trent’s voice was carved in stone. It still cloaked me in solace. In relief.

God knew I’d been missing these arms for the last week. And right then…I needed them…I needed them more than ever.

I sagged into his hold and tried to block out the atrocity that had been left on my car for me to find.

Disgusting.

Horrible.

Cruel.

Who would do such a thing?

A slaughtered animal—for what? To scare me? To scare someone else? Was it random?

Trent ran his palm down the back of my head, holding me close, whispering, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” over and over.

“Trent, I don’t understand.”

“I know, baby.” With that, his breathed words turned soft, but I could feel the ferocity of his stare. Of whatever his harsh silence was conveying to those who’d gathered around us.

“Call the police.” I recognized Trent’s brother’s voice issuing the command.

“On it,” someone said.

“Bring me a blanket,” Trent grunted.

A flurry of activity whirled around us. A blanket was wrapped around my body before Trent was taking me back in his arms and leading me over to the exterior steps. He sat me down next to him, never letting go. He just tucked me closer.

His mouth was a constant caress at my temple. In my hair. Along my cheek. “I’ve got you.”

Four officers arrived on the scene.

They fired a thousand questions, their flashing lights breaking over the darkened lot.

It all felt blurred. As if I were experiencing it from afar. Through a foggy mirror. Lifted high above it where I didn’t have to take part.

I answered the officers the best that I could.

“I arrived at work at quarter to ten.”

“I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary when I arrived.”

“No, I hadn’t been out to my car until I came out and found it this way at one-thirty.”

My face twisted in grief when I answered one that I really didn’t know how to, my head shaking fiercely. “No, I don’t know anyone who would do something so awful.”

Didn’t know anyone who’d want to hurt me this way.

Anyone who could possibly hate me this much.

I’d continued to cling to Trent as if he could be the solution to it all.

As if I didn’t recognize the word painted in my car.

Ghost.

The rest of the staff had answered everything the officers threw at them.

No one had seen anything amiss.

Not even Milo since he kept the employee door locked unless he needed to accompany someone outside. “Makes it safer that way,” he’d grunted.

Worse was the way Trent responded to his. Direct but vague. As if his explanations had already been planned.

Or maybe I just knew him in a way no one else could. Sensed the strain that lined his muscles and ate at his soul. I knew that this was going to be another burden that he carried.

The police left with access to the security video, though they weren’t hopeful they’d be able to see anything definite since my car was parked on the opposite side of the lot, up close to the woods where the cameras barely reached.

The entire time, Trent hadn’t left my side. Rubbing my back. Whispering promises I knew he had no intention of keeping.

Won’t let anyone touch you.

Not gonna let you out of my sight.

I’ve got you.

Two hours later, the last cruiser finally pulled out of the lot. They’d towed my car for evidence, and everyone except for Jud, Milo, and Kult had already left. The three beasts had been on a constant prowl of the full perimeter, ready to take out any threat.

Exhaustion weighed down, pressing into my consciousness, but there was no chance I could settle, either, the anxiety still wringing through my system.

Trent pressed a kiss to my temple. I leaned into it. Savoring the sensation. Wanting to wrap it up and keep it forever even when he’d made it clear we were never going to work. That it couldn’t happen. That our lives were too at odds for them to ever fully come together.

When Milo came to stand in front of us, Trent hardly shifted his attention from me. “What else can we do, boss?”

“Inside clear?”

“Yup. Everything is secure. All doors are locked except the one behind you.”

“Thank you. You’ve done everything you can tonight. Go on home.”

“Yes, Sir,” Milo said, though he and Kult seemed less than eager to leave us behind as they climbed onto their bikes and rode into the night.

Jud remained, hesitating, hands stuffed in his pockets, so much like his brother yet so entirely different. “You good, brother?”

There was nothing but care in his voice.

“Yeah. We’ll be fine. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

A silent conversation transpired between them. The two of them wired. Worried. They were keeping something to themselves. Either something they both knew or suspected.

Dread shivered through my being.

I couldn’t shake the word from my mind. The one I’d discovered inscribed on Trent’s side last week. The same as had been written in blood on my car tonight.

Ghost.

“You get her home safely.” Jud cast a glance at me when he said it. His onyx eyes were soft. Filled with sympathy.

“I will,” Trent said, voice hard.

Nodding slowly, Jud backed away before he swiveled on his boot and disappeared at the end of the lot toward his shop.

In an instant, Trent and I were alone. Secluded in the silence that consumed. The arm he had draped around my shoulder pulled me close. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Warily, I nodded, and we stood. I had my bag I’d left with earlier, back when I was trying to get away from Trent Lawson as quickly as I could.

Back when I thought I couldn’t stand under the pressure of his presence for a moment longer.

I hated the way we’d tiptoed for the last week.

Avoided.

Did our best to pretend as if the other didn’t affect us at all.

Now, he refused to let me go. His arm was wound tight around my waist as he turned and locked the heavy side door behind us. That arm only tightened when he led me down the three steps and toward his motorcycle where it was parked at the front of the lot.

Energy rippled.

That connection fierce.

Unrelenting lashes that struck us as the wind whipped through the trees and howled through the air.

It was as if it were shouting that we were fools. Fools that we’d thought we could escape the pull.

Trent let his arm slip from my waist, though he didn’t go far. He threaded his fingers through mine so he could swing his leg over the bike. Balancing it, he started it. Those eyes raked me like a caress as he shifted to pull me to straddle the mass of cold metal behind him.

But his body was warm.

So warm as I curled myself against his beautiful, tragic form. My arms bolted around his narrow waist, and for a beat, he set both his hands over mine.

A promise.

An oath.

God. What was he doing to me? Who was I becoming? Because I knew, even after tonight, I’d never felt safer than I did right then.

I exhaled the heaviest sigh, pressed my cheek to his back, and let his heat chase away the cold.

Trent took to the road. The roar of the engine filled the dense night air, the world vibrating around us as we flew down the deserted street. Claimed it as our own. The stars seemed too close, dangling just above our heads like wishes strung up on hooks, just out of reach.

And I guess I was barely aware that we weren’t heading in the direction of my house. It took us only a few minutes before he was slowing and guiding us into a much newer, nicer neighborhood than my own.

I sat up a fraction, taking in my surroundings, an antsy confusion curling my brow when he made a left into a driveway. He stopped the bike, his legs planted out to the side to keep us upright as he thumbed into his phone and tapped something on the screen. The garage door began to rise.

He eased his bike inside, next to the car I recognized as the one he picked Gage up in each day. He cut the engine. In it, the silence was almost deafening.

I hugged him for a second, not wanting to break the trance, before I whispered near his ear, “What are we doing here? I thought you were taking me home?”

He huffed out an incredulous laugh, dark hair flopping to the side as he angled around enough to meet my face. His jaw was set in a hard clash of teeth. “You think I’d take you home to stay by yourself after what just went down tonight? Not gonna happen, Kitten.”

“Trent—”

He cut me off with a harsh shake of his head, and he unwound my hands from his stomach, guiding me off his motorcycle so I was standing. He continued to straddle the metal, though he never let go, the man clutching my hand as if it were a lifeline as he pulled me to stand beside him.

He stared up at me.

Ruthless, savage beauty.

Every inch of him this sinister seduction that I didn’t know how to look away from.

And he was gazing up at me like I was the sun. The breaking day. A light in the darkness.

I shuffled my feet, trying to rearrange the broken bits of my heart. The pieces I’d already given him that he’d crushed a week ago. All while I felt him stealing more.

All of it.

All of me.

Whiplash.

With Trent Lawson, I never knew if I was coming or going. If he was going to push me away or draw me near. If he was going to ravage me or destroy me.

I guessed with the man, it was one and the same.

Dark, desperate eyes sparked beneath the dull light of the garage, a collision of blunted and bright, desperation carved in the sharp angles of his face. He squeezed my hand. Almost too hard. An apology. “No question that was a message for me, Eden.”

I gulped around the thickness in my throat. “Why?”

He scoffed and looked away, giving the words to the lapping night. “A million reasons why. Uncountable enemies. Innumerable wrongs. All of them on me.”

Sorrow had etched itself into his expression when he looked back at me. Deep, bleeding wounds from the depths of his striking, gorgeous face.

And I was struck again with what Jud had said. With his brother’s belief.

“He deserves someone who will see him for who he really is, Eden. Not for what he’s done.”

And I did. I saw him for something so much better. Something so beautiful I was staggered.

I shouldn’t have, but with a trembling hand, I reached out and cupped his cheek. Like I could hold a piece of it when the only thing he wanted to do was shield me. “All of them in your past.”

In a flash, he was on his feet.

Towering.

Obliterating.

“It happened tonight, Eden. Right now. In our city. That doesn’t seem much in the past to me. I fuckin’ won’t…” He choked on the words, as if everything had gone sour, pain leaching into the threat. “I fuckin’ won’t let anyone touch you. Touch Gage. I won’t.”

The rigidness of his jaw promised it wasn’t an idle threat. Just the same way as I’d known it before. This terrifying man with the aura of iniquity. Blood on his hands. A tainted spirit with a beautiful soul.

“I’m not your responsibility.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. His face pinched in sharp rejection while the next word came soft as his hands latched onto my upper arms to draw me close. “Bullshit.”

It was a whisper.

A breath.

I shook, looked away, managed to force out, “I shouldn’t have come here. After last week…” I trailed off, revealing too much.

That it’d hurt. I hadn’t meant for it to. For it to come to that. For him to hold a part of me. That I’d been giving in and letting go.

Welcoming the coming devastation.

He only tightened his hold. “Wouldn’t let you be anywhere else.”

Big hands slid up my arms and over my shoulders.

Riding up until he was holding my face. Until I was trembling and trembling. My heart in his hands. “Don’t know why they delivered that message through you, Eden. Hell, I don’t even know who they are or what they want. But until I do? Won’t let you out of my sight.”

I thought maybe that was more dangerous than anything else.

My throat tremored when I swallowed.

Trent followed the movement. First with his eyes and then with his fingertips.

Tattooed hands gliding down my throat. Fire and flames.

Chills streaked as my head dropped back, and he continued down, his palms spreading over my shoulders and gliding over my arms.

As if the man could hold everything.

Desire flooded through me. Head to toe. Everywhere. Everywhere.

My eyes dropped closed, and I forced out the shaky words. “You know we can’t do this. It’s going to hurt too much when you let me go.”

At least I still knew that much about myself.

Intensity flashed from his body. A shockwave. A serrated inhale through his nose. A growl in his throat.

Then he ripped himself back, dropping his hands like the topple of stones.

My hands moved to take the place of his, rubbing the cold spot on my arms, aching for his warmth and his comfort and knowing asking for it would be all wrong.

He took another rigid step back. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm. Where you can sleep knowing not a soul is gonna get to you. I’ll keep you safe, Eden. Promise you that.”

I should tell him no. Call my daddy and ask him to come pick me up. Even though he would be worried, it’d be a lot safer than this.

For my heart.

But no.

I gulped down the doubt and gave Trent an erratic nod. “Okay.”

Tattooed fingers wound with mine. Looser than they had been before, as if he were trying to keep himself restrained.

“Come on.”

I warred, glued to the spot.

He angled in close. “Don’t make me toss that pretty ass over my shoulder.” It was a snarl. The unmitigated truth that he’d meant what he’d said.

He was going to keep me safe. Whatever it took.

Warily, I followed, shuffling along behind him as he punched a button and the garage door closed. He pushed open the interior door and led me into his and Gage’s home.

Why it felt surreal, I didn’t know.

As if I were stepping into something private.

Something sacred.

My eyes were wide as I took in everything. Desperate to know a little more of this man. As if maybe looking at his possessions would give me a clue.

We’d stepped into a great room of sorts, a living area with a modern kitchen to the back. Everything was clean and contemporary, decorated bland, though there were a few toys strewn about.

It was so different than what I’d pictured.

I thought maybe the man was trying to blend into the gray walls. Fade away and become a backdrop.

Impossible.

“This way,” he grumbled, slowly pulling me toward an arch in the wall that led into the formal living area. He moved directly for the staircase. I followed him, continually dropping my gaze each time he glanced at me from over his shoulder. Each time he stole my breath. Each time his big boots shook my simple, easy world.

Our hearts were a thunder in the quiet, sleeping space.

Drum, drum, drumming against the walls.

Shadows that crawled.

Intensity that whispered.

A building storm in the night.

I doubted either of us knew how we were going to make it through this.

Because I could feel every inch of Trent bound in tension. In want and restraint.

We hit the deserted landing. To the right was a long hallway with a bunch of doors. To the left were double doors that clearly led to the master bedroom.

“Where’s Gage?” I whispered.

Trent turned around.

A demon in the night.

Beautifully terrifying. All hard, savage lines.

“At my younger brother, Logan’s. He sleeps there when I’m at the club. He’ll bring him home early in the morning.”

I could barely nod. Could barely think.

Could only feel.

Trent walked backward, tugging me along toward the double doors. He angled around enough to open the right side, dipping through the doorway as if it were a passageway into another world.

I wondered if it were.

Because everything shivered and shook.

Different than last week.

As if we’d bridged a new beginning.

Or maybe we’d just been tossed into Hell. Like he’d warned. And I had no capacity to put on the brakes. No idea how to turn around and make a run for it like I clearly should be doing rather than following him into his bedroom.

His bedroom that was shrouded in shadowed silhouettes.

As if those ghosts crawled his walls and forever haunted his dreams.

This room was more like him.

On the far side of the room, the giant bed was made in a plush black comforter. The fabric headboard was tall and took up almost the entire wall, black and studded. Large pieces of art were hung along the wall closest to me, authentic paintings done on twelve-foot canvases that captured the man as if the artist had a tap into his brain.

Like it gave me one, too.

Each were a depiction of those ghosts that screamed and howled. Demons that climbed from Hell and roved a forsaken Earth. But there was also eternity. Beauty written in the starry skies.

Each piece was poignant and unforgettable. Breathtaking and hair-raising.

Or maybe it was the hand gliding up my forearm that lifted the chills, returning my attention to the man who towered in his room.

A dark refuge on a shore of treacherous waters.

Or maybe…maybe it was all a trap. The daunting phantom waiting to pull me under.

“I should get cleaned up,” I forced out through my thickened throat. The air was so dense and deep I swore I could see the words float on it.

Trent stepped back. “Bathroom’s this way.”

He gestured to the door at the far left side of the room, between the foot of the bed and the wall of images. He led me that way, stopping at the door and leaning in to flick on the light. He shifted to the side to let me in ahead of him.

I blinked against the stark intrusiveness of the blinding rays, hugging my arms over my chest like it would protect me from whatever this power was.

Whatever was happening.

Rising higher.

Coming closer.

Trent edged by, watching me as he reached into the shower and turned on the showerhead to let it heat before he slipped back by and ducked into the cabinet to pull out a fresh towel and washcloth.

He stole my breath as he went.

He set them on the counter. “There you go.”

The only thing I could do was nod.

“Let me grab you something to sleep in.”

I felt short on oxygen. “Okay.”

He moved back into his room, and I sucked as much air as I could into my lungs. I hoped it would give me clarity and strength.

The only thing it did was amplify the energy that crackled through the confined room when Trent dipped back into the bathroom with a tee and a pair of boxers. “Probably gonna be a little big on you.”

He gave me a smirk at that, those eyes raking over me as if he were picturing me in his clothes. Or maybe without them.

I trembled.

Stepped back.

Tried to hold onto what he’d told me last week.

We’d never work and taking more of what I couldn’t have was the most reckless thing I could do.

It didn’t mean those vacant places didn’t throb. That I didn’t ache. That I didn’t want to be touched.

Adored.

Wanted and cherished.

Trent seemed held in it, too. Entranced. Unable to move. That lure a rope that bound us in the space.

Finally, I found enough strength to snap us from the hazy fog, the steam from the shower heating our flesh and filling the room. “I should get in.”

Trent’s eyes were the hardest, softest things I’d ever seen. The contrast of the man the very thing that was going to be my ruin. Because I wanted both sides.

The brash and the bold. The loyal and the sweet.

“Okay.”

He spun and went for the door.

“Thank you,” I rushed before he was able to step all the way out. Apparently, I wanted to cling to the connection for one second longer.

Trent twisted around to look at me. That man who’d done me in from day one coming out to play, a wry smile on his sexy face. “Don’t thank me just yet, Kitten.”

Then he stepped the rest of the way out and snapped the door shut behind him. The click tossed me out of the stupor.

I jolted with the impact.

My body bowing that way like it didn’t know what else to do but follow after the man.

Foolish.

I gulped it down, tried to find my footing, to seek out a little common sense in the midst of this insanity.

But I didn’t know how to find it. Not when I angled into the spray, so hot it was close to scalding, as hot as Trent’s touch.

And I was assaulted with it.

Image after image from last week when he’d followed me into my bedroom.

From the days leading up to the moment when I’d let another man touch me for the first time since I’d lost Aaron.

More from the afternoon in my dance studio.

The days without his touch.

Fear traveled my spine when I thought of what I’d walked out on tonight.

The truth that Trent Lawson’s world was so far removed from mine.

But I knew, right then, I didn’t care. I’d step into his if he would let me.

I gasped at the realization, my body lathered in suds that smelled so much like the man, the nutmeg that’d always overwhelmed me. I held it to my nose, let it infiltrate, let it consume.

I rinsed, turned off the showerhead, and grabbed the towel that he’d left folded on the counter.

I wrapped it around my overheated body.

Every nerve ending was alert.

As if one touch would burn me alive.

Steam fogged over the room, and I did my best to dry, though my flesh remained sticky and hot. I dressed quickly, his clothes engulfing me.

I rubbed the towel through my hair, anxiety lighting me up when I moved to the door and slowly opened it to the darkness waiting on the other side.

Because Trent was right there.

Two feet away.

His chest heaving with greed.

A storm gathering strength.

Every promise I’d ever made myself ceased to exist.

“Eden.” He said it like I might be his saving grace. Electricity crackled, ferocity in the bob of his thick throat. “What if I wanted it, Eden? What if I wanted it to work? What if I wanted it all? What if I don’t want to let you go?”

And I knew right then I was in too deep.

No longer walking on solid ground.

Because the towel slipped from my hands.

“Then hold onto me, Trent. Hold onto me, and don’t let me go.”

One second later, Trent prowled my way.

Falling.

Falling fast.

His mouth crushing against mine with zero hope of recovery.