Chapter 14: Chapter 14
"You told me the conviction was in the bag." Noah tossed his keys on the table and moved deeper into his condo. Two charter fishing trips after three guys called in sick with the flu was not on the agenda today. Neither was the impromptu phone conversation with his FBI contact, who was pissing him the fuck off. "Three weeks ago, you assured me it was finally done."
Noah rubbed the back of his neck. He never would've taken steps with Raven if he hadn't been handed the confirmation that the threat was all but gone. Then, out of nowhere, the tables turned and he'd been on edge ever since. His ulcers had ulcers. Those bastards could take her away from him in one pull of a trigger.
James McCannon sighed wearily into the phone. The flick of a lighter sounded, followed by the drag from a cigarette. He answered on an exhale. "Look, Noah. We weren't expecting Rizzoli to learn about where the evidence came from, nor the hit he put on you."
"No shit. But why does that matter? You said there were other witnesses and you had recordings of him talking about election funds." It should've been a slam-fucking-dunk.
McCannon's chair squeaked. "The timing of the contract is worrisome. His funds are tied up until trial."
Noah ground his molars to dust. "He got it from somewhere."
"And until we know who he hired, you need to stay on the down low."
McCannon had called with a "watch your back" warning just twenty-four hours after Noah had Raven in his arms. Finally. And there was Aubrey to take into account. He'd have to beef up security at her estate, even though Rizzoli didn't know the girl existed.
Raven was Noah's biggest concern at the moment. As his friend, she'd been off radar and of no consequence. In fact, so had Noah. Until he'd finally gathered enough credible evidence that the feds could lock the fucker up for life. Raven was under his roof now, and Rizzoli would have to be an idiot not to suspect. If there was a hit out on him, then Raven was already in the crosshairs. This was a clusterfuck, and he'd possibly put Raven right in their sights.
"I want to know if anything changes. And so help me, McCannon, if I find Rizzoli's contracted killer on Alaskan soil, the hell I'll deliver will make what Rizzoli's done look like a Sesame Street special. Got me?"
McCannon sighed. "Calm the hell down. Threatening a federal officer is a crime," he said lightly. When Noah didn't laugh, McCannon cleared his throat. "I know this has been a long time coming and it's been hard on you. Just hang in there. It's almost over. She's finally going to get justice."
"She'd better."
Noah disconnected and tossed his phone next to his keys. His late teens and entire twenties were buried neck deep in this mess, a mess that wasn't even his, and damn if he didn't want to start living his life without looking over his shoulder or putting those he loved in danger. He looked down to find his hands shaking. He fisted them and took a deep breath.
A glance at his watch told him Raven would be home soon. How long could he evade her curiosity? Part of him wanted to tell her everything, but the less she knew the safer she might be. He trusted her with his life, with Aubrey's if it came down to it, but he still had a gut feeling she didn't trust him. Not one-hundred percent. Regardless of the change in their relationship, she was holding something back. It pissed him off he couldn't figure out what.
Keys slid into the lock and the door opened. Raven stepped into the foyer and halted, Max on her heels. "You beat me home."
A funny thing happened in his chest when she said "home." He smiled, walking to her and taking her coat. She was moving slow and her expression was distracted. "You look tired."
"Yeah, long day. Not bad, just long."
Before he put too much thought into the act, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead. Not a gesture he could ever remember doing. It spoke of tenderness he'd never known. "Why don't you take a hot bath? I'll order Chinese. We can eat with chopsticks by the fire."
She rolled her shoulders. "Sounds good." Glancing briefly at Max, she smiled and headed to the bedroom. "Goodnight, Max."
"'Night, ma'am."
Already in the bedroom, she cleared her throat loudly.
An out of character grin split Max's face. "Sorry, Miss Crowne."
"Better." The bedroom door closed.
Noah raised his brows.
Max's grin fell to half watt. "She doesn't like being called ma'am." He shrugged, the giant of a man's face reddening in embarrassment.
Right. "Anything unusual today?"
Max sobered. "No. She had a client come in but, other than that, she stayed in her office. I thought we might've had a tail on the drive back, but I was wrong. The car passed us before the turnoff."
He sighed and forced the tension from his neck. "Thanks. See you tomorrow."
Max looked like he wanted to say more, but he nodded and turned to go.
"Is there anything else?"
"She's asking questions," he said over his shoulder. He turned with his hand on the doorknob. "I don't think it would hurt you or Miss Aubrey if Miss Crowne had the answers to those questions."
Noah crossed his arms and regarded Max. He'd been with Noah a long time and, in that time, he'd never offered advice or spoke up unless directly asked or if there was a potential threat. Seemed as if Raven was getting under Max's skin, too. "Noted."
After his bodyguard left, Noah ordered takeout and switched on the fireplace while waiting for delivery. Pouring two glasses of wine, he moved to set them on the coffee table and signed for the food when it arrived.
Just as he was about to check on Raven, she emerged from the bedroom in a pink silk robe that barely covered her good parts. Long tendrils of midnight hair broke free from the clip on her head, framing her face. To contrast this sexy as fuck look, she wore large fluffy bunny slippers he'd given her for Christmas one year.
"Don't move." He went to the black room down the hall and retrieved a camera. When he returned, her brows drew together in frustration.
"Put the camera down."
"No. And wipe that exasperated expression off your face." He wanted the look she had when she first emerged. Sleepy and curious. And, damn her, she wasn't complying. Dropping his voice a baritone, he lifted the camera to his face. "Baby, look at me. After dinner, I'm going to untie that robe of yours and spread it wide. Do you know what I'll do next? I'm-"
Click, click, click, click, click. Fuck yes. That was it. Perfect.
She rolled her eyes and crossed the room to sit on the floor by the fire. With her in profile, the firelight cast shadows and light across her form. Before she could reach for the takeout, he snapped several more. When she looked over her shoulder at him, he stole the money shot-her lips parted, slight lift to her brows, warmth in her eyes and the light behind her. Impish and sexy.
As he lowered the camera, something pinched in his chest. His jaw clenched as he attempted to control the myriad reactions jostling inside. Something was off. He wasn't expecting this punch to his gut when he looked at her or the incessant need to have her. Not just under him, but beside him in all things. Hell, she'd been at his side for years. Lust was expected. He'd lived with it for a decade, like an extra appendage. Why did things feel different?
Shaking it off, he strode over and sat on the floor next to her. He opened a container, realized it was her chicken chow mein, and passed it to her before reaching for his cashew beef. Dipping his chopsticks, he pulled out a bite and chewed, watching her.
Her feminine characteristics were unique, which was why he'd wanted her on film. A mix of siren and innocence. Everything about her was contradictory. Dark hair, light skin. Brazen sexual abandon with innate fear lurking in shadow. A control freak, yet soft at heart. Where did she get such artistic perfection? She didn't resemble her mother at all but, then again, Raven wasn't Willow's biological child.
"How old were you when your mom adopted you?" They'd talked about it a time or two, but he couldn't remember.
Her chewing slowed, then she swallowed just as slowly. "Seven. Why?"
He shrugged. "Just curious. Do you remember anything about your life before?"
She faced the fire, chopsticks stabbing her food. "A little here and there. It's mostly small flashes. I don't know how accurate they are."
Talking about this bothered her, judging by the stiffness in her spine and avoidance of her eyes. She didn't put up walls against him, not often. "What do you remember?"
"I told you, it comes in spurts-"
"I heard you. Why are you getting defensive?"
She glanced up and let out a harsh exhale. "I'm not. I just don't like talking about it."
His spine turned to ice. Her personality, mannerisms, and inability to make love normally all blinked through his conscious. He liked her just as she was, but was pushing for more. Because she deserved that. Sexual creatures like her should never be contained, especially behind fear. Did any of her walls have to do with those formidable years?
"Why don't you like talking about it?'
She set the carton aside and hugged her knees to her chest.
The ice along his spine spread to other areas. "Raven."
She closed her eyes. Shook her head. Sighed. "Do you remember hearing in the news about that naturist group in California, Lambs of Christ? We were young when they disbanded."
Wondering what the hell this had to do with anything, his gaze got lost in the flames as he thought back. He'd certainly heard of them. They were one of those cult groups in southern Cali. "A little. Weren't the leaders arrested on weapons charges?"
"Among other things. I think most of the members, like my birth parents, went into it thinking they'd live in a small, Christian community to raise their daughter. By the time I was starting to babble, it was too late to get out." Her voice went reflective. "According to my mom, some tried to leave the group and were never seen again."
If he tried to move, he'd snap. That's how tight, how cold, her words left him. "You were raised in a cult?"
Her gaze whipped to his as if she sensed his tension. "All I know is what my mom told me. I have almost no memory of it."
She pried the carton away from his fingers before he could crush it to a pulp. Grabbing her wine, she leaned against the couch. "From what I understand, the kids slept in a separate bunker from their parents and were treated well. After their school studies, they helped farm the fields." She cleared her throat. "My parents died during the ATF raid. My mother was living in the area at the time, heard about a lot of the newly orphaned kids, and adopted me. A shrink told her it might be best to move me from familiar settings, so she packed us up and we've been in Alaska ever since."
The air slowly seeped from his lungs. He forced himself to draw more in. Two weeks ago, she'd told him she'd never been abused or assaulted. He'd believed her. Of course he had, but doubt niggled in the back of his mind there was more going on than her need for control. She may not remember it, but something had happened to her back then that made her like this today.
He doubted she even realized it. When they'd first started going at each other, she wouldn't let him touch her. Now, he did so freely, but he had to go slowly in the beginning. She didn't like enclosed spaces and hated surprises of any kind.
He looked over to find her watching him. Grabbing his own wine, he downed half the glass. They had sex often, in a multitude of positions. All but one. He never thought he'd crave the missionary position so damn much. The only time she panicked anymore was when he was on top of her.
"You won't let me make love to you on top. Have you noticed that?" Against the wall, her riding him, him from behind-didn't matter. She was fine. As long as they were vertical.
She frowned, confusion marring her face. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
Satisfied he'd put the notion in her head, he set his wine down and crawled on all fours over to her. She'd analyze what he said and dissect it until she figured out a solution. He just needed to set her on the path.
But now? He needed to sink inside her and forget the things she'd told him. If he let the vision of a younger version of Raven cement in his head, he'd need eight solid hours in the gym with a punching bag.
She grinned when he took her glass away. "What are you doing?"
Kneeling between her legs, he ran his hands up her calves. "Wondering what you have on under that robe."
The fire reflected in her eyes, lit with humor. "Why don't you find out?"
Clamping his mouth on her throat, he growled. "With pleasure."
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone