Buried Alive Page 7

  “You-you liiiike himmm.”

  “No. No, I do not like him.” My back went board straight, my voice tight. I didn’t know why it bothered me, but something in my gut twisted with worry. “Concerned.”

  “What if he hurt himself…can’t reach the phone?” Siena widened her eyes in mock terror. “And he’s dying…”

  “Dramatic much?” I huffed, but her scenario wiggled into my head, flicking on the what if switch. What if something was wrong? He was hurt? Needed me? “Maybe I should go check on him?”

  “Mmmm-hmmmm.” Siena gave me a coy look. “You do that.”

  “I’m serious.” I bit on my lip, staring down at my phone. My fingers already working across the screen.

  Are you all right? Just let me know you’re not gnawing on your arm or anything.

  Ten minutes passed. No response.

  Through my drunkenness, warning bells tugged at my gut.

  “I’m gonna go, Siena. Something doesn’t feel right.”

  “Whatever excuse you want to tell yourself.”

  I slipped off the chair, unsteady on my toes. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Of course! No problem.” She waved me off. “Had my appetizer, now looking for my dinner as well.” She grinned, her eyes prowling the single men around us. “Call me later.”

  “Sure.” I wrestled with the arms of my jacket as I headed for the front door and stumbled out.

  The crisp bite of snowy air bolted through my chest up to my brain, sobering me a tad. My attention landed on the lodge in the distance, lit up with holiday lights. I pushed forward, my legs stumbling to keep up with my body. Alcohol gave me the guts to call his room along my zigzagged trail. When I got no answer, my legs pressed forward faster. My hip and leg hitched as I ran. My old injury had left deep scars on the inside and the outside. Part of my right hip had to be rebuilt. It was an excellent job, but it would never function as it had, and it sometimes ached and slowed me down.

  I tried to convince myself there could be a million reasons why he wasn’t answering. I mean, he could be having sex with some random girl. Fallen asleep. But I couldn’t forgo the trepidation dancing in my stomach.

  Chapter Ten

  Rhys

  Icy water pelted down on me, feeling similar to pebbles; my skin shivered and flushed with goosebumps. The hot water had run out a while back.

  “You fucking idiot,” I swore at myself, trying to move my injured leg but my reach was short of the faucet, daggers of pain scoring my nerves. I lay my head back against the tile and ground my teeth, my tailbone throbbing from the fall.

  Shaun’s warning about me doing anything on my own echoed in my head. Of course I was too stubborn to call him and chose to take a shower on my own. My knee was hurt, but I wasn’t debilitated. Yet, when I stepped in and hopped to get my other leg over the lip, I slipped, grabbing on to the towel bar at the end of the tub. I ripped it from the wall, everything crashing into the tub, including me.

  Fury at my stupid move darkened my thoughts, hatred coiling darkly through me. I felt every bit the pathetic, worthless being I had grown up to believe I was. My family knew it. What was I still trying to prove to them? My stubborn nature pushed me to dangerous edges and situations. Was it to confirm them right or wrong?

  This was just life in the shadow of my perfect brother, the one my parents lavished with love. In an argument, when I was ten, my mother let it slip I was an accident. They had wanted only one kid.

  By sending me off to the US and visiting just a few times a year, they made that true.

  My hands rolled into balls, banging like a drum on the wall. I could feel my mood plummeting. Sometimes I welcomed it, not that I could stop it from submerging me. I made most of my bad decisions in this mood, as if I were trying to prove they were right for not loving me. For choosing Jonah.

  I tried to lift my body but slipped deeper into the tub. “Fuck!” I would end up sitting here in the frozen water, my balls shrinking up to prunes, because my cell was in the other room. I had heard it beeping the text message alert. Probably Shaun. Hopefully he would stop by and check on me.

  An incensed bellow came from my throat, straining the muscles in my neck. I wanted to punch something, rip the room a part, and let the excess darkness leak out. If I hurt my knee worse, taking my chances of winning…

  “Rhys?” A woman’s voice called from the other room interrupting my thoughts, jerking my head up. The TV playing in the background made it hard to distinguish. I’d even be happy to see Carrie.

  “Rhys?”

  This time I heard it clearly; her voice calling my name sent prickles of heat down my thighs. She was the last person I expected to come back.

  “Hannah?” I called out, trying to sit up, trying to look around the open door. “I’m in the shower. Help.”

  “Funny.” She sounded closer to the door, her word slurred a bit. “I thought something might have happened to you.”

  “Not funny. Come here.”

  “I’m not washing your back, Mr. Axton.” She stood close to the door.

  “Fuck.” I pinched my nose. Talk about stubborn. “Get your ass in here now!”

  “I swear, if you are trying to get me into the shower...” Her voice trailed off as she stepped around the door, her gaze taking in the scene: the towel bar torn from the wall, blood from the cut on my hand dripping off it, the soaked towels lumped in balls next to me. Her eyes seemed slow to track me, stumbling until they landed on me. Her mouth parted, her eyes widening as they moved from my face, tripping over my torso, to my exposed cock, her cheeks flushing pink.

  A grin tugged at my mouth, enjoying her response to me. “I fell.” Though it was pretty obvious, her realization seemed to be taking its time to kick in.

  “You’re naked.” She hesitated by the door, holding on to the doorknob, looking a little unsteady, her eyes hazy.

  Was she drunk? “Usually people take their clothes off to take a shower.” I waved my hand, trying to get her attention back to my face. “That’s not the point.”

  “Oh shit. Are you okay?” She rushed closer, landing on her knees next to the tub, worry streaking her face, but her eyes still roamed over my body greedily.

  “You’re staring, Hannah.”

  Her head snapped back to me. “Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t know. I’m afraid to move it. Needless to say, I left my cell in the other room.”

  “Along with your crutches.” She frowned at me. “They’re here for a reason.”

  “This is starting to look like my nurse fantasy.” I flinched trying to adjust my leg. “What is your last name?”

  “Jennings,” she replied. It took her a moment to realize she was staring at me again, jerking her attention to the other end of the tub.

  “Ah…Nurse Jennings, the way you’re ogling my cock, you’re making me blush. Do you always look at patients this way?”

  Her mouth flattened, annoyance flashing in her eyes. “Do you want my help?” She stood, folding her arms.

  “Remember, I’ve also been sitting in cold water for an hour.” I winked. Even though I was still sitting under an icy spray and my knee possibly hurt more, my bad mood had vanished. “Just FYI.”

  “Forget it.” She tossed up her arms, moving for the door. “You can turn into a prune until someone else finds you.”

  “Wait, Hannah,” I yelled after her. “I was kidding. Please.”

  Her boots squeaked to a stop, but her body leaned forward as though she was preparing to run. Her hand gripped the door frame, the corners of her eyes and lips bunched in annoyance. She exhaled through her nose, tipping back and forth.

  Some girls enjoyed playing hard to get, as if that would set them apart from the girls who threw themselves at me. But I could always see through it. They wanted nothing more than for me to stop them, call them back. Hannah was not one of those. I felt certain if I tried to use my come-hither voice to beckon her, seduce her, she would disappear in a blink. I could se
e the fine line between intrigue and anger seeming to boil under her skin similar to me. But why? What was it about me she couldn’t stand?

  She didn’t move, like she was locked in neutral.

  “I need your help.” I spoke honestly. No flirting or sarcasm. Simply me for once.

  Her entire face crunched with exasperation, then she huffed out a long exhale. “Fine.” She whipped around, stalking back my way. “But one more sexual innuendo and I’m putting a plug in the bathtub and walking out.”

  I grinned at her spunkiness. Hannah reached over, her dark straight hair tickling my flesh as she turned off the water. Her head turned to me, our faces so close, I could see her dilated pupils brightened by a sliver of blue ringing them.

  She jerked back, clearing her throat. “Why didn’t you turn off the water?”

  “I tried. Believe me, but I can’t bend my knee, and I kept slipping every time I tried.” I wrinkled my nose in irritation, hating how weak I sounded. “I think I bruised my tailbone.”

  She stood, grabbed a dry towel off the rack above the toilet, and tossed it at me.

  I snatched it, a trickle of blood still running down my hand and arm, staining the cloth. I softly patted my skin dry, pulling it over to cover my lower half. “I’m taking all your fun away.”

  She shook her head, which only made her stumble to the side.

  “Shit. Are you drunk?”

  “No.” She puckered her lips together, looking down at the ground. Pause. “Possibly.” A sigh. “Okay, yes.”

  I snickered. “Great, you’re drunk and I’m dead weight. Can’t see anything going wrong here.”

  “Do you want me to phone your coach?”

  “No.” I waggled my head. “This is the first night he’s had away from me in a long time. I’d rather not call him. And you’re already here.” I tilted my head. “Wait, why are you here? I thought you weren’t coming back.”

  “You didn’t respond to my text. I got worried.” Hannah tottered on her feet. She was cute when drunk, especially when she tried to pretend she wasn’t. I would love to really see her let loose.

  “You texted me?” I bent up an eyebrow.

  Fear hit her expression, looking out into the bedroom, then down at the ground. “Uh, actually Siena did.”

  “Sure she did.” Now I really wanted to get out and see what drunk Hannah texted me. “Are you going to help me here?”

  “Oh. Right.” She scuttled to me. “How do you want to do this?”

  “I need you to help me up just enough so I can use the wall for support, then I can get my arm around you like a crutch.” She nodded, licking her lips. My dick took that as an invitation, perking up.

  I had no problem with people, especially women, seeing me naked. It happened quite frequently, but something about her made me feel more in the spotlight than ever. I tried to tuck the towel around me, but the moment she helped me rise so I could get my back pressed against the tile, the towel dropped to the floor.

  “Okay. Wow.” She turned her head, a strangled snicker coming out of her.

  “Is it making you nervous, Hannah?” I teased, loving the blush in her cheeks.

  “Seen one, seen them all.” Her voice wobbled enough that I knew she was lying her ass off. She grabbed the towel, swiftly wrapping it around me, her fingers brushing my skin as she tucked it in.

  My eyes tracked her every move, enjoying the feel of her touch, not stopping her. She did realize my arms worked fine, right?

  “Let’s say this night has taken a very interesting turn.” She exhaled when my lower half was covered, stepping one foot into the bath, the other on the floor, tipping her shoulder to get under my arm. She snuggled so close I could smell the sweet fragrance of her shampoo, and something else, clean and refreshing. Snow, I decided. These scents ignited fire and calm with every inhale.

  Concentrate, Rhys, on anything but how good she smells.

  It took us several tries to coordinate our movements so I could finally get my bad leg out of the tub onto solid ground.

  “Why did you try and take a shower without anyone here?” She huffed while taking on my weight. We reached the door to the living area.

  “Fishing for an invite next time?” I peered down at her, nudging her with my shoulder.

  “I can still drop you.” Her hand slid around my waist, getting a better grip. My muscles tensed under her fingers.

  “I think I can hop the rest of the way.” I needed this girl to stop touching me. She was far too tempting, straining the fabric barely holding on around my waist.

  Two hops toward the bed and the towel dropped. Leaving it behind, I crashed back onto the bed, happy to be back in the soft, warm sheets. My gaze went to where Hannah stood at the doorway, her eyes still staring where my bare ass had been.

  “Han?” I pulled the sheets over me, propping up my leg. “You okay?

  “Yeah, sorry.” She shook herself out of the daze.

  “I’m already naked; you don’t have to keep undressing me with your eyes.”

  “Shut up.” She walked to the end of the bed.

  “Was that too much for you?” I leaned against the headboard, adjusting my leg. “I get that a lot. Don’t worry about it.”

  “You Americans with your imperial system of measurement are always thinking it’s better and bigger than it really is.”

  “Ouch.” I chuckled, shifting back into the pillows. “Guessing you’re Canadian? Hate to break it to you, but technically I’m Canadian too. Born here, but grew up in the States.”

  “Me too.”

  “Really where?”

  “California.” She looked around the room. “Do you need anything else?”

  “No. I’m good.”

  “What about your hand? I saw you had a cut there.”

  I lifted my arm, looking at it. It had stopped bleeding. “It’s fine, but I’m not sure about my tailbone.”

  “Well, if someone wasn’t an arrogant ass and thinking he could do it on his own…” She came to the side, plumping the pillows underneath my leg, checking it out. “Looks all right though. Your ACL would be inflamed if you hurt it.”

  “You sound as though you know what you’re talking about.”

  She shrugged. “Sprained mine a few times too.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Snowboarding.”

  “Really?” I placed the bag of ice on my knee. “You snowboard?”

  “Used to.” She shifted on her feet, looking at the door. “A long time ago.”

  “What made you stop?”

  She shifted again, looking uneasy. “Not a lot of snow in San Diego. Took up surfing instead.”

  It was a typical transfer. Both sports had things in common and a similar feel. Snowboarding gave me a greater high, especially when flipping and twisting through the air.

  “Did you go to San Diego State? I have a friend who goes there. Huge competitor in surfing, so maybe you know him.”

  “No.” She shook her head, rejecting it before I could even say his name. “I’m older than you; I wouldn’t know the same people.”

  I sensed walls assembling around her, which made me even more curious about her. There was definitely a story there.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “By not even four years. That’s nothing.”

  She scoffed quietly. “Maybe now.”

  “You’re in good shape for such an old lady.”

  Her eyes lifted to me, a whisper of a smile on her mouth.

  “What do they call you…a cougar?”

  A chuckle belted from her. “That’s older ladies pursuing younger guys.”

  “Exactly.” I motioned to myself.

  She held back the smile working over her mouth and rolled her eyes.

  “You wish.”

  “No.” My smile dropped. “I won’t have to.”

  She met my gaze for a moment before she turned away.

  “I’m glad you’re not hurt.”
She gestured to the door. “I’m gonna go.”

  I watched her intently while she bobbed as if debating whether to leave. The more she sensed my stare, the more frazzled she seemed to get. Her eyes kept darting toward the exit and her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

  “See you tomorrow, Hannah.”

  She nodded, not looking at me. Her feet darted for the exit.

  “Hannah?” She stopped, looking at me. “Thanks.”

  She jerked her head in response, then slipped out the door.

  I stared after her for a while. A beep from my phone drew my head to my phone. When I picked it up, I noticed several missed calls from Carrie, Graham, and Shaun and a text from both Carrie and Shaun. The two messages from the number with a San Diego area code took all my attention.

  I opened the first message, my eyes widening, an impish grin curving my lips.

  If I have to service you, it’s only fair to return the favor.

  Oh, don’t you worry, I will.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hannah

  My parents weren’t too thrilled I was moving in with Siena, but I didn’t think they were thrilled with me in general. My father finding out I failed school had not gone over well.

  “First I hear you’re moving in with Siena, and now your mother told me you are leaving school?” Dad pounced on me the moment I came down the stairs, still rubbing sleep from my eyes.

  “It was more a mutual decision,” I grumbled, grabbing a coffee cup. “They also wanted me to leave.”

  “You are a smart girl. How did you fail out of school? Why didn’t you tell us you were in trouble? We could have gotten you tutors.”

  A laugh crackled out of my mouth, sounding similar to dried, burnt bread. Of course he would chalk it up to me needing tutors. Problem with a simple solution. But my flunking out of school had little to do with my brains and more the vast emptiness in my heart and soul.

  “I’m not in the mood for your sass right now. Sit down.” He pointed at a chair.

  Clutching my coffee, I obliged my father, both of us deep down knowing he could do nothing about my choices. I might be behind most my age, but I was an adult and would make my own decisions.