He winked and pulled her along out of the bedroom.
Despite the fact that Kit had eaten in the café with both Ryder and Mac on more occasions than she could count, today with Mac it felt awkward.
Mac eyed her possessively, and he touched her often, light brushes across her skin. One time he even reached across the table to take her hand.
It made her uncomfortable as hell. She didn’t want their easy camaraderie to change just because they were having sex. And she sure as hell didn’t want Mac or Ryder to get the wrong idea. Sex was fine. After what happened, she wasn’t sure she could trust anyone but Mac or Ryder to touch her, but that didn’t mean she wanted more.
If she had to choose between keeping the sex or keeping their friendship, it was a no brainer. She’d just have to start abstaining.
“Hey, there’s David,” Mac said.
Kit turned around to see David enter the café. She smiled and waved. Mac motioned him over.
David ambled over, a warm smile on his face. “Hey, you two.”
Mac kicked one of the available chairs out from under the table. “Have a seat.”
David plunked down and motioned for the waitress.
“I’m glad to see you, David. I have a few questions for you if you don’t mind,” Mac said.
“Sure, no problem. What’s on your mind?”
The waitress poured David a steaming cup of coffee, and David set to work sweetening it with four packets of sugar.
Kit tensed and looked away. She knew Mac was going to ask him about what had happened last night. An uncomfortable, itchy sensation crawled over her skin. The idea of anyone knowing humiliated her even more.
“Before I got to the bar last night, did you see anything out of the ordinary? Anything unusual? Maybe someone paying a little too close attention to Kit?”
David frowned and shook his head. He glanced over at Kit, concern creasing his brow. “What’s going on?”
Kit closed her eyes and lowered her head.
“I have reason to believe that Kit’s attacker is still around,” Mac muttered.
David blinked. “You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack.”
Kit reached for her juice and knocked it over with shaky fingers. Damn it.
David leaped up to retrieve napkins, and Mac reached across the table and gripped Kit’s hand. The waitress hurried over with a dish towel, and soon the mess was cleaned up.
Mac stared at Kit, his blue eyes shadowed with concern. “Are you all right?”
“Can we . . . can we please talk about something else?” she pleaded.
His expression softened. “Baby, if David saw anything I need to know it. I can’t protect you if I don’t ask questions.”
She shoved back from the table and stood, rigid from head to toe. “Then do it when I’m not around,” she choked out.
She turned and ran for the door.
Mac cursed and slammed his fist on the table. Running scared. He couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t running. From her past. From her present.
“What’s going on, Mac?” David asked.
Mac sighed. “The son of a bitch who raped Kit is still out there. He’s been stalking her ever since the attack. I only found out last night.”
David’s eyes widened in surprise. “But I thought there were no leads? That the attacker was someone passing through?”
Mac grunted. “Yeah, so did I.”
He looked toward the entrance of the café where Kit had fled just moments before. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Look, David, I need to go, but do me a favor, okay? Keep a close watch at the bar. The bastard was there last night. He left a note in Kit’s truck. She isn’t safe.”
David’s face darkened. “I’ll do everything I can, Mac. I’ll let you know if I see anything that doesn’t add up.”
Mac stood and shoved his Stetson on his head. He extended his hand to David. “Thanks, man. I appreciate this a lot.”
“No problem.”
Mac stalked out to the small parking lot and over to his Dodge truck. He slid into the driver’s seat and put his hands on the steering wheel.
Beside him, Kit sat huddled in the passenger seat, staring blindly out the window. He let out a small sigh and reached across the seat to touch her arm.
“Kit, I didn’t do that to hurt you,” he said softly.
She stared at him with haunted eyes. “I know, Mac.”
Silence lay heavy between them. He let his hand fall away from her, and he twisted back in his seat. He started the engine and backed out of the parking lot.
He drove toward her house, occasionally glancing over at her. Her body language screamed vulnerability, and again, he was flummoxed by how to handle this unfamiliar side of Kit. What he wanted to do was wrap himself around her so tightly she’d never feel threatened again, but that would likely scare her as badly as the demons she hid from did.
He pulled into her driveway and parked behind her Bronco. He reached over and took her hand. Slowly, she turned her head until she looked at him. The raw emotion in her eyes was nearly his undoing. It took all of his control not to crush her into his arms.
Instead he smiled lazily, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “You ready to go in, babe?”
She tensed, paused a second then reached for the door handle. He got out and walked around the front of the truck to wait for her.
They mounted the steps to her porch, and Mac hung back as she went to insert the key in the lock. But as soon as she touched the door, it eased open.
She dropped the keys and stepped back, bumping into Mac. In a second, he whirled her behind him and reached for his off-duty weapon.
“Go sit in the truck and lock the door,” he ordered.
She stumbled back down the steps, her legs so shaky she looked like a newborn colt. When Mac was sure she was in the truck, he eased the front door open and peered inside.
“Son of a bitch,” he swore.
Shit was scattered from one end of the house to another. He stepped inside the doorway, his gun raised. His neck prickled, the hairs standing at attention.
Not a single thing lay untouched in her house. Her sofa was ripped to shreds, the stuffing littered across the room. Pictures, books, plants lay broken and torn.
He walked into the kitchen only to see every single dish, glass and plate in a million pieces on the floor. He continued to her bedroom, afraid of what he’d find.
The door was flung wide. All her clothing lay scattered on the floor. Oddly enough, her bed was in pristine condition. In fact, he’d swear the intruder had made it, because Kit wasn’t nearly as tidy as the bed appeared.
He walked over, glancing over the tightly creased linens. Then he froze. Bile rose in his throat, and he swallowed convulsively against the urge to vomit.
There in the center of the bed lay a picture of Kit. Huddled in a ball, on the ground, just as Mac had found her six months ago. Only he damned sure hadn’t taken pictures of her.
Below the picture, a single piece of paper with one word scrawled. Mine.
The attacker was making his statement. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Mac yanked up his cell phone and dialed the station. He quickly explained his location and what had gone on. Then he strode back through the house and outside where Kit sat in the truck.
She jumped out of the truck when he hit the steps. She ran up to him, would have run past him, but he caught her in his arms and held her tight.
“Don’t go in there, Kit,” he said firmly.
“What has he done?” Kit demanded.
Mac looked down at her eyes rapidly filling with tears, and he felt as though someone had torn his heart right out of his chest.
“It’s a crime scene, baby. You can’t go in there. I’ve called it in. They’ll be here soon.”
“What did he do?” she asked in a voice that made Mac ache.
“He tore the place up,” Mac said. No way was he going to tell her about the pi
cture on her bed.
Kit slowly tore her gaze from the house and looked back up at Mac. “I’m scared, Mac,” she whispered.
Mac knew how much the words had cost her, but more than that, he knew how very terrified she must be in order for her to make such an admission.
He shook with rage. “I’m going to call Ryder to come get you. I’ll need to be here for awhile. If I’m not there by the time you go to work, Ryder’s going to take you in. I’ll be there later on. I promise.”
“He’s not going to leave me alone, is he?” Kit said in a voice so low he almost didn’t hear her.
Mac pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly, pressing his lips into her hair. “I’ll find him, Kit. I swear to you, he’s going to pay for what he’s done.”
CHAPTER 8
Ryder arrived five minutes later, his face a mask of rage. Kit watched as he strode over to Mac, and the two talked, their expressions growing angrier by the minute.
She should be there, demanding to know what all had happened. She knew from the filtered bits of conversations she’d managed to grasp that her house was completely destroyed. But still, she hung back. She wasn’t sure she could face the full scope of what Mac had found. He’d kept things from her. She knew it, but she was afraid to find out what they were.
A few minutes later, Ryder walked over to her, his black hair swinging over his shoulders. His expression softened when he reached her, and he put out a hand to cup her cheek.
“Let’s get out of here, darlin.”
“Where are we going?” she managed to croak out.
“For a ride. Anywhere but here.”
She let him guide her over to his Harley. He straddled the bike then patted the space behind him. She got on and hugged her arms around Ryder’s waist.
They tore out of her driveway and hit the main road out of town. Once outside the city limits, Ryder gunned the engine and opened it up.
The road stretched ahead of them through the dense green woods and over the hills surrounding their small town. Kit closed her eyes and allowed the wind to blow at her hair. She relished the feeling of freedom. For a brief moment, she could forget her worries.
A good twenty minutes later, Ryder turned onto a dirt road and sped down it in a cloud of dust. It was then she realized where they were going. The lake.
The road narrowed until all it became was a small trail through the woods. Ryder eased the bike along, using his arm to block tree branches from hitting Kit. A few minutes later, he pulled to a stop beside a huge oak tree.
“Remember this place?” he asked.
She smiled. “Yeah. Our tree.” How many nights had they sat nestled among the roots, staring out over the lake, drinking beer and running from their reality?
She got off the bike and walked closer to the where the tree met the edge of the lake. So many nights spent here. She laid her hand against the rough bark and stared out over the sparkling water.
She heard Ryder behind her, then felt his arms sneak around her until she was nestled against his chest, his chin on top of her head.
“Why does he hate me?” she whispered. “What did I do?” Ryder’s arms tightened around her. He kissed the hair above her ear. “You didn’t do anything, darlin’. He’s a sick bastard who gets his kicks terrifying women.”
She broke away from Ryder’s embrace and sank down between two of the roots. Ryder walked closer to the edge and looked down the embankment where the water lapped gently.
“What did Mac find at my house?” she asked. “He kept something from me, and at the time I didn’t want to know, but I need to.”
Ryder turned to look at her, anger flashing in his eyes. “No good can come of rehashing it, Kit.”
“Tell me,” she said quietly.
Ryder squatted on the ground in front of her. He looked back and forth between her and the lake, indecision making a crisscross pattern over his face.
“He took a picture of you. After . . . after he raped you,” he said in a strangled voice. “He put it on your bed.”
All the blood drained from her face. Panic surged and swelled, did battle with the rising nausea in her belly.
“Did—did you see it?”
God, until now, only Mac had seen her that night. He’d wrapped a blanket around her so no one would see.
“No, darlin’, I didn’t see,” Ryder said softly.
She closed her eyes and hugged her knees to her chest. “I wish Mac hadn’t seen either,” she whispered.
“You think it bothers him?” Ryder asked sharply.
“It bothers me,” she replied.
“Kit, look at me,” Ryder directed. His voice was uncharacteristically harsh.
She blinked in surprise and dragged her eyes up to meet his gaze.
“You can’t think it matters to him. Or to me. Kit, you know us better than that.”
Her hands fluttered up in defense. “Ryder, I didn’t think you thought badly of me. I do know you better than that. I just didn’t want anyone to see me like that. Especially you and Mac,” she finished lamely.
Ryder crawled over to where she sat. He hunkered down behind her against the tree and pulled her back against his chest until she rested between his legs, her ass tucked against his groin.
He trailed his fingers through her hair, smoothing the tangles. “You’ll never know just how sorry I am that happened to you, darlin’. If I could take it away, I’d do it, no matter the cost. But at the same time, it doesn’t change one damn thing about you and me, and I know it doesn’t change anything between you and Mac.”
She sighed and leaned deeper into his arms. “How many times have we sat here, staring out over the water wishing we were anywhere else?”
He chuckled. “Too many to count.”
“So why are we still here?” she asked softly.
“I know why I’m here, and I know why Mac’s here, but why are you here, Kit?”
She stiffened in his arms. “Because no one ever asked me to leave.”
He trailed his hand through her hair again. Here, in the place they’d spent so much of their youth, there was nothing sexual about their embrace. Just two friends holding on, one drawing comfort from the other.
“Don’t let this destroy you, Kit. And don’t push me and Mac away because you’re scared of your feelings. It doesn’t make you weak to admit you’re afraid.”
“When did you become so in touch with your feminine side?” she muttered.
He chuckled close to her ear. “You know I’m right.”
“I still hear him, Ryder. In my dreams. When I’m awake. He never goes away.”
Ryder’s hand stilled in her hair. “Mac and I’ll find him, darlin’. This I swear. And when we do, he’s a dead man. You won’t ever have to hear him again.”
Kit relaxed against Ryder, content to exist only in the moment. Her eyes fluttered, and she felt the overwhelming urge to close her eyes.
Ryder’s hand smoothed the hair away from her cheek. “Go to sleep, darlin’. I’m not going anywhere.”