Tall, Silent and Lethal Page 9

  “Ow!” he snapped, startled as he realized that something hit him upside his head. Pulling his head back, he quickly turned around, expecting to see his sister standing there only to discover that they were still alone. Which meant....

  “Why the hell did you hit me?” he demanded as he stepped out of the shed and into the pitch-black backyard.

  As if to answer his question, she slapped him upside his head, again.

  “What the hell is your problem?” he demanded, gripping her hips to pull her off only to find her legs locked in a death grip around his waist. She had him so damn confused that he had no idea what he should be doing with the infuriating woman.

  “I w-was st-st-stuck in the shed all d-d-day b-because of you!” she managed to get out through her chattering teeth as her arms somehow managed to tighten further around his neck. If he'd been human he'd probably be on the ground gasping for air by now.

  “How is that my fault?” he demanded, wondering if he should just go ahead and rip into her throat and save himself from the bullshit that she brought into his life.

  “You were supposed to help today,” she said tightly, sounding more in control, but her body's violent shivering and the desperate way she clung to him told a different story. The badass woman he'd met in the pharmacy was scared out of her mind and oddly enough, it wasn't because of him.

  Surprisingly, she seemed to be seeking comfort from him when most women stayed away from him. Suspicious of her actions, he narrowed his eyes as he glared down at her.

  “You didn't purposely abandon my sister, did you?” he asked, knowing that if he sensed any hesitation or deception in her answer that he would take her behind the shed and drain her. He’d happily deal with the consequences of having a pissed off sister. Better to be pissed off at him than to be harmed or dead, he decided.

  “No, you jerk!” she said, accompanying her denial with another slap.

  “What the hell is it with you women and hitting me?” he demanded in a half growl. “A simple answer would have been enough.”

  “Maybe if you hadn’t acted like an asshole today and ditched me, you wouldn't be getting slapped upside the head,” she pointed out, sounding furious, but he noted that she was still clinging to him.

  He felt his temper snap with that accusation and the reminder of why he'd left her alone. “I wouldn't have ditched you if you hadn't made it so fucking obvious that you didn't want me around!”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I never acted like I didn't want you around,” she said, shivering violently against him as she tried to shift in his arms to get closer, confusing him even more.

  “You couldn't get away from me fast enough in the hardware store,” he snapped even as he released his hold on her hips and wrapped his arms around her, simply because he couldn't help himself.

  The only person in his entire life that had sought him out for comfort and accepted him unconditionally had been Marta. As a small child she'd always preferred to go to him for company, attention, and comfort. Even his father, who he knew loved him, held him at an arm's length, probably because he blamed him for his mother's death.

  According to the midwife and the physician that had overseen his birth, his delivery had been the most violent birth they'd ever witnessed. His mother had died in agony as she gave him life. As much as his father had tried, he hadn't been able to stop the tale of his birth from reaching the small village they’d lived near.

  Things probably wouldn't have been so bad if he'd grown at a normal rate, but he'd been small for his age and grew at an alarmingly slow rate. The villagers took that as a sign that there was something wrong with him and avoided him, although not outright. No one would have done anything to anger his father since they counted on his generosity for their livelihoods.

  His family had been one of the richest and oldest families in Germany. At the time, owning more land, homes, and businesses than even Hitler, but none of that had meant anything when the shit hit the fan.

  “What the hell are you talking about? And can't we have this discussion in the house?” she demanded through chattering teeth.

  “Fine!” he snapped, walking towards the house. He didn’t miss her tiny sigh of relief. What had scared her this badly? he wondered as he took the back steps two at a time.

  Once they were in the dark kitchen she didn't release him as he’d expected. Instead, she reluctantly raised her head to look around, her heartbeat increasing even faster as a new wave of fear hit him hard.

  “The light?” she whispered harshly.

  Frowning down at the woman trembling in his arms, he reached out and flicked the switch on, encompassing the kitchen in bright light. As soon as the light was on, Cloe was out of his arms and across the room in what seemed like a matter of seconds, further pissing him off.

  “Maybe you should just leave if my presence disgusts you so much,” he said tightly, running his tongue over his fangs as they threatened to shoot out. He was pissed.

  Beyond fucking pissed.

  She hadn’t run off and abandoned his sister, he understood that, but it seemed as though she still had a problem being around him. He wasn't about to put up with the same small town bullshit in his own home. After a lifetime of being treated like a pariah he was done.

  If Marta needed extra companionship so badly then maybe they should move so that she could have it without his pride taking another hit. He really couldn't fathom anything more insulting than the woman he was stupidly falling for thinking that he was lower than dog shit. Call him crazy, but it wasn't exactly a flattering comparison.

  “What are you talking about?” Cloe asked absently as she wrapped her arms around herself and looked around the kitchen as if she expected something to jump out at any second and attack her.

  “Every time I come within touching distance of you, you can't get away from me fast enough. If I had known that you were going to buy into the little town drama I would have saved us all the trouble by throwing your ass out the first day you came here,” he said, running his tongue over his fangs as they poked out of his gums once again. The scent of her fear wasn't going anywhere and he was having a hard time ignoring it.

  She paused in her wild search to roll her eyes at him. “I don't have a problem with you, you jerk. Well, besides screwing me over so you can have a hissy fit.”

  “I don’t throw hissy fits,” he cut her off, but she continued as if she hadn't heard him, which was damn frustrating.

  “My problem is space,” she finished, bending slightly so that she could shoot a nervous look beneath the kitchen table.

  Frowning, he couldn't help but do the same. “What exactly are we looking for?”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly, too quickly, but he decided to let it go.

  For now.

  “Uh huh, and what are you talking about? Space? What the hell does that have to do with anything?” he asked, wondering when she was going to relax. They'd been in the house for over five minutes and she was still giving off the scent of fear as she shivered her ass off.

  She shot him a glare as she said, “I don't like being cornered or trapped in small spaces. I need space.”

  Her words ran through his head as he remembered that she hadn't taken exception to his presence, other than annoyance, until he’d crowded her against the paint samples, which he’d done because she’d been driving him crazy at the time and he kind of enjoyed pissing her off.

  “Oh,” he said, feeling like an ass.

  “Yeah, 'Oh',” she snapped back. “If you hadn't gone off pouting and had stuck around to help me, I wouldn't have been locked up in that shed all night,” she bit out, making him wince.

  Shit.

  “So......,” he trailed off not exactly sure how to broach the subject, “I don't disgust you?” he asked, immediately wishing that he hadn't.

  “The only thing that disgusts me about you is the food you try to serve Marta,” she said, shooting a nervous look at the door and damn near jumped
to the ceiling when it was suddenly thrown open.

  Marta stormed into the room, shooting him a narrowed eye glare that instantly disappeared when she spotted Cloe.

  “Are you alright, dear?” she asked Cloe, walking as quickly as her cane would allow her over to the young woman who was still shivering as she held herself tightly.

  Cloe forced a reassuring smile for Marta. “I'm fine. Just a little cold. I was stuck in the shed all day,” she explained and he couldn't help but notice that she hadn’t blamed him, but apparently that wasn't going to stop Marta from placing the blame squarely at his feet.

  “This would not have happened if you had helped her,” she said accusingly as she took a step towards him, her hand noticeably tightening around the top of her cane.

  “Marta,” he warned tightly. He was done with all the bullshit.

  “You should have been helping her today instead of sulking!” Marta snapped, further testing his patience. He was not about to stand there and allow his younger sister to yell at him like he was an errant child.

  “I'm so upset with you, Christofer!”

  “Marta, it's not his fault,” Cloe said, coming to his defense and further shocking him, but Marta wasn’t done.

  “You should have-”

  “Marta, go to bed!” he snapped, having had more than enough for one night.

  She drew up rigid, glaring at him. When she opened her mouth, probably to promise to whack him with her cane if he didn't behave, he added, “Now.”

  After a moment of glowering at him, she nodded slightly. “Fine. As long as Cloe is okay.”

  “I'm fine, Marta. I'm sorry that I worried you.”

  “There's nothing to apologize for,” Marta said, giving him a look that he knew all too well. There would be hell to pay in the morning and God help him, but he would probably just suck it up and take it as long as it meant that Marta got it out of her system. He didn't like to see her upset. Every time she was stressed, her heart worked overtime, scaring the hell out of him. So for her, he would take it, but not in front of Cloe.

  Not again.

  “Good night, Marta,” he said, not at all surprised when she acted as though she hadn't heard him.

  “You didn't need to yell at her. She was only worried,” Cloe said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, trying to create friction to help warm herself.

  “Don't worry about Marta,” he said, gesturing for her to leave the kitchen. “She's fine, just angry. I assure you that she will not hesitate in telling me just how furious she is in the morning,” he said dryly.

  Cloe's lips twitched, the first sign of humor since he'd found her. He hated to admit that it calmed something inside of him. Seeing her upset and vulnerable made him feel helpless, a feeling he detested. “She does seem to enjoy doing that,” she said just as a violent shiver tore through her body, making her cringe into herself.

  “Let's get you warm,” he said softly as he pushed the guilt away that was threatening to take over. He watched her nod stiffly as she walked past him on shaky legs.

  None of this would have happened if it weren't for him. Instead of feeling sorry for himself he should have owned up to his responsibilities, not left them to this young woman. As he followed Cloe up the stairs a sense of shame surrounded him when he realized that he'd once again failed to keep the promise that he’d made to his father.

  Chapter 10

  “Get in the tub, Cloe,” Christofer said, sighing heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose as if she were the one acting insane.

  She tightened her grip on her towel as she stubbornly shook her head. “Thank you, but no thank you, Christofer. I can handle taking a shower by myself,” she said through chattering teeth, wishing he would get out of her bathroom so that she could stand under the hot water without an audience.

  “I'm not leaving, Cloe,” he told her, leaning back against the doorframe. When he'd first followed her inside the bedroom and opened the bathroom door for her, she'd been relieved. Right now she couldn't deal with any enclosed spaces and he seemed to understand that.

  That didn't mean that she appreciated the little alpha male routine he was pulling on her at the moment. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. She'd been doing it for more than thirteen years and one night of hell was not going to change that.

  “I'm not getting in that shower with you standing there,” she bit out through clenched teeth when he didn't make any move to leave after a few minutes. She was freezing her ass off and so damn tired, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Hell, she'd be lucky if she could sleep in a few days when exhaustion finally took over.

  “Fine,” he said, shrugging as he pushed away from the doorway.

  She nearly sighed with relief. That is until he said, “You're leaving me with no choice but to drag you in there.” As he spoke, he pulled off his sweatshirt and tossed it aside, revealing a simple gray tee shirt that molded to his perfectly sculptured chest and abs, leaving Cloe momentarily stunned.

  That is until he pulled the tee shirt off and tossed it to the side as well.

  Living near the beach for the past few years, she'd seen some very drool worthy bodies, but none of them, and she meant none of them, had anything on Christofer. Every muscle was perfectly defined and tanned. Even the light dusting of dark hair on his chest and trailing down his stomach didn't mar the perfection. If anything it added to it. Thankfully he dragged her out of her thoughts before she did something stupid like drool.

  “Let's go,” he said, picking her up before she realized what he was doing.

  “Hey! Put me down!” she snapped just as a violent tremor tore through her body. God, she was so damned cold.

  “No problem,” he said, carefully placing her in the shower, just out of reach of the water.

  “Thank y--hey!” she may have screeched when he surprised her by snatching her towel away and tossing it over his shoulder.

  He ignored her outraged glare and simply pointed towards the water that was even at this distance giving off a delicious warmth. “Get under the water or I'll put you there,” he said evenly and she knew that he'd do just that.

  With a small sigh, she gave up and moved beneath the water, making sure to keep her back to the wall. She was too tired to care that she was naked in front of a man that on a good day made her a little nervous. At the moment the only thing she cared about was getting warm, making sure that he didn’t see her back, and keeping the lights on. Anything else was too much work for her frayed nerves.

  “I'm going downstairs to check on my sister. Do you think you'll be okay for a moment?” Christofer asked, reaching over and pushing her now soaked hair out of her face.

  “I-I'm f-f-fine,” she stammered through her chattering teeth. “Y-you don't n-need to c-come back.”

  Of course he ignored her. “I'll be back in a few minutes, Cloe,” he said firmly as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving her alone.

  As the hot water streamed down her body, delivering much needed warmth, she fought against the urge to close her eyes and simply savor it. Although she doubted he would get a chance to come back before she was out of the shower, she didn't want to take the chance of him coming back and getting a glimpse of her back.

  He would either react with pity or disgust and right now she didn't have the energy to deal with either. She didn't know which reaction she hated more, but she knew that she didn't want to see either expression on his face. She wasn't sure why it mattered what Christofer thought since it was more than obvious that he didn't want her here, but it did.

  The boyfriends she'd had over the years, granted there hadn't been many, either tried to play it off like it was no big deal or flat out lied, but she never missed the looks of pity or revulsion on their faces whenever they saw her back. While most women would probably hide their scarred backs, she didn't. She didn't exactly flaunt it or make a big deal out of it, but she did use it to see just what kind of man she was dealing with.

&n
bsp; There were a few guys that took one look at her back and walked away and although their reaction disappointed her, it never really bothered her. If they couldn't deal with the scars covering her back, making her less than perfect, then that was more than fine with her. She wasn't looking for “Mr. Right” anyway. She just wanted someone that she could spend a little time with every now and then to forget her troubles. The guys that managed to pretend that her back didn't bother them had provided her with the only thing she allowed herself, casual companionship.

  That is until she’d met Aidan. In the beginning he'd been great, fun, kind and unbelievably great in bed. He hadn't seemed to mind her scars. In fact, they’d actually seemed to turn him on. At first she’d thought it was sweet, but soon after they began sleeping together it started to creep her out just a little bit. When she tried to pull away and end things he became possessive and she hated to admit this, but he actually started to scare her a little bit.