“Well?” he asked expectantly, brows up. He put both of his palms above his head on a cupboard that hung over the bed.
A thousand scattered thoughts flitted through her mind. His presence was overpowering. His scent. His eyes. Her fear. Her pain. His mouth. Her love. His heat. She wanted to be invisible, get away, and lunge into his arms and directly into his skin at the exact same time.
“I…” she didn’t finish.
He waited. He looked angry. No, furious. He looked absolutely beautiful. He wore a pair of faded black button fly jeans, a cyan blue soft over-washed t-shirt that was very close to the shade of his eyes and a black leather jacket with a pair of Chuck Taylors on his feet. He had what looked like more than a few days’ worth of stubble on his face. He looked tired, pissed off, dangerous. And sexy.
“Do you have any idea?” he spat, keeping his voice low, “of the hell that has been my existence since you left?”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out. She began hyperventilating. His icy cold glare scanned up and down her body, then he repeated, “You. Left.”
“You…” she huffed and then struggled for breath.
He looked expectantly at her.
“Almost killed me,” she whispered, finally.
He looked off to the side, flashed a look of disgust, and then swallowed hard. His gaze returned to her, “Yeah. That’s what the evidence suggested.”
The look of disgust, that wasn’t directed at Kyla, it was obvious it was directed at himself. A spark of hope lit but it quickly burnt out.
He scanned her face, “You had to know I’d find you. Thousands of miles away, hundreds of thousands of miles away, even. I would find you.”
She closed her eyes.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
She shook her head slowly, eyes downcast.
“Did you want me to find you?” His tone was gentler.
Tears started to roll down her cheeks.
“Answer me!” he demanded through gritted teeth.
She shook her head, trying not to look at him but catching a glimpse of a sour look on his face.
“Lie!” he hissed, “Don’t lie to me and do not lie to yourself. I’ve been out of my mind not knowing if you were alive or dead. Do you know what that’s been like? Look at me.”
She squeezed her eyes shut tight.
“Look at me right fucking now, Kyla.” His voice was low, menacing.
She opened her eyes and lifted her chin. Fury emanated from him. Despair lanced through her.
“Do you know what it’s like for me?” she choked out, hoarsely, “to know that, yeah…” she swallowed hard, “you’d probably find me but to not know who you’d be when you did? You could be any of three people and there’s only one of them I’d wanna cross paths with. If only you were just him…” She wanted to collapse.
He thrust his fingers through his hair and then folded his arms across his chest.
“You can’t… feel me?” she asked.
He let out a huff, “I can now. But I couldn’t. Not until today. How did you turn it off?” His mouth was a tight line.
Her voice shrank even smaller, “I-I don’t know. Then how did you find me?”
He let out a sigh and his posture relaxed a little. He pinched the bridge of his nose, “I didn’t start tracking you until today when I got to the island. Couldn’t feel you until I got here. I looked for you the old fashioned way until today, bringing me to Vancouver yesterday. Tonight I checked email and saw the ping in Victoria from the Kovac website when you landed there at that library. We track anyone who hits our site to determine why they’re pokin’ around. My people tracked the IP to a library in Victoria and reported it to me. From what I’d already found out about the path you took I knew it had to be you. I felt you the second I got off the boat.”
The library? What a bonehead move. But now what? He was clearly pissed. But his eyes were still blue so that was something.
Wasn’t it?
“Damn it, Kyla.”
She stared at the dingy-looking tiled ceiling and shook her head slowly.
“Talk to me,” he said.
“Are you here just to talk?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
He huffed impatiently, “Talk and then leave.”
“You’re leaving?”
“We’re leaving. Don’t play games with me.”
“We? What’ll we do? Wait for you to board the black-eyed crazy train again and really kill me this time? If that’s what you want, fine, whatever. Take me back. Chain me to your bed.” She shrugged.
“Kyla…” he warned.
A long moment passed.
“Tristan, I…”
His name coming off her lips must’ve been his breaking point. Before she got another word out, before she could say I’m scared or say I’m sorry, or before she even totally knew what she wanted to say, he surged forward and was on top of her, pinning her arms on pillows above her head. His mouth was a centimetre from hers,