Page 72 of Damned
Chapter Thirty-One
Bree jerked upright, suddenly cold. And alone. The blankets pooled at her hips. Kruze wasn’t beside her. She called for him anyway, “Kruze? Where are you, honey?”
Cocking her head, she stilled, sure a noise had awakened her. But he wasn’t in the cave, nor was he sitting on the narrow ledge outside. The noise couldn’t have been made by him. Where’d he go? Had he left her? He wouldn’t do that, not now, would he? His bag was still where he’d left it. That had to be a good sign. She hated the doubt and betrayal that slithered so easily back into her soul. He’d asked her to marry him; he wouldn’t just leave the first chance he got, would he?
He did before…
No, he’s changed. He has every reason to stay. We have a daughter, and he loves me.
Then why isn’t he here?
Bree ran a quick hand over her braid, fighting fear, her head still cocked, her ears straining for his answer. Once again, she’d given Kruze everything. Baby Bean! They might’ve made another baby!
How dumb are you?
“I’m not stupid!” Bree yelled at her insecurity. “He loves me. He told me so, and I believe him. I love him.”
She’d just worked up a good head of steam when a hefty black shape dropped from above onto the narrow ledge that led into the cave. Whoever this guy was, he was so big that he blocked all the daylight. Frightened, she scurried into the farthest corner of her hideout, dragging Kruze’s bag with her. She fumbled the zipper, needing a weapon. Her poor heart was pumping too hard. Damn it! Why hadn’t she accepted the little pistol Kruze tried to give her?
“Bree Banks?” the guy asked, his voice deep, growly, and—kind. When he lifted one arm over his head, a bright, over-powering beam lit the entire interior of the cave, blinding her.
Lord, he knows my name!Lifting her hand to block that horrendous beam, Bree asked, “Wh-who’s asking?”
Whoever this guy was, he had the grace to set the light on the floor with its beam pointed up. Bree could see better now. Shaggy, black hair. Bearded and built like an ox. Dressed in black everything, jacket, beanie, and boots—like Kruze. He was so tall and wide that he blocked the only way out.
“It’s just me, Bree. Kruze sent me to take you home. Pagan Sinclair at your service.” Folding his sunglasses, he slid them into his jacket.
“You talked to Kruze? Where is he? Is he okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. He just has a couple things to take care of right now, but he’ll be home shortly.”
Man, Bree wanted to believe Pagan, but once again, she was trapped with no way out. Lifting to her feet, she planned to shove him over the edge if he lied. “If you’re his brother, tell me something personal about him.”
Pagan stayed where he’d landed. “Umm, he’s an ass.”
That made Bree smile. “Everyone knows that. Something else. Something unique.”
“Well, err, okay. How about… umm…” Pagan ran a hand over his head. There was something familiar about how his elbow ended up over his head that reminded Bree of Kruze. It wasn’t just a simple hair-fluffing drill, but more like he was trying to help his brain work better. “Okay so, how about this? Kruze used to be a damned good Navy SEAL, but something happened on his first deployment. He got hurt, came home, and spent a couple days in the hospital. But he won’t talk about it. He’s never been the same, and he won’t share. Hence, he’s an ass.”
Whoa, that was spot on. Made Bree wonder why Kruze thought he couldn’t tell his brothers about Juliana. Yet he’d told her. Had he told his mother? So many questions. “Okay, so who’s Chance?”
“Chief Petty Officer Chance Sinclair is my oldest brother, ma’am. Kruze is second in line. His rank, Petty Officer First Class. I’m third, Petty Officer Third Class, but I’m the handsome one in the family.” He shrugged. “Guess it sucks to be them.”
She couldn’t resist asking one more question. “Who’s your mother?”
“That’s easy!” Tenderness filled Pagan’s reply. “My mom’s world-famous author Scarlett Sinclair, and she always liked me best. Still does, but… she’s gone now.”
Bree hurried to apologize. “That was mean of me. I’m so sorry for your loss, Pagan. Kruze tells me you love all of New York City’s delis.”
“Never pass up good food, ma’am. Yeah, that was kinda mean, but I don’t mind talking about Mom. She’s been gone a couple years, so it’s easier now. Mind if I come in?”
“Sure.” Bree waved him forward. “Sorry, but I had to be sure.”
He unsnapped the rope she hadn’t realized he’d been hanging onto, then tossed it behind himself and stepped inside, ducking before his head hit the ceiling. “Cozy place you got here. It’s small, though. Don’t suppose I could persuade you to come with me?”
Bree wrung her fingers. It was easy to see the brotherly resemblance between Pagan and Kruze now. Pagan was as big, his shoulders as wide and his body as thick, and his hair was black and curly. But Kruze’s features were finer, prettier. It was like comparing a massive bull to a racing stallion. Both were built for power, but Kruze was lightning. Pagan was thunder.
She stalled, not sure why those foolish metaphors popped into her head. “I don’t want to leave. I’m not sure where Kruze went, but I know he’s coming back for me.”
