Feral, Chapter Two, Part One

Chapter 2
    While Riley wrestled with his demons in the living room, Samantha tried desperately to make sense of what had happened tonight. She sank into the steaming hot water in the tub. Grateful again that she'd taken this flat. Her rattled nerves needed the calm that only a good soak could give her. Even if the heat did nothing to calm other parts of her. Damn him. She slapped the water and sat up. She couldn't even make it through five minutes without thinking about him. She really needed to get a grip on her emotions before she went back out there.
    There was no denying that there was still something very real between them. But no way was she ready to throw in the towel and forgive him. Not by a long shot. And there was no way she was going to give in to the crazy things his body did to hers whenever they came within 2 feet of each other.
    So, where did that leave her? Sitting in a hot tub thinking even hotter thoughts about a man she hadn't thought she'd ever see again. Sill confused about who the other guy had been. Why, according to ol' brown eyes out there, he'd been sent by someone to see to her untimely death. And where they were supposed to go from here.
    She knew where her traitorous body wished they'd go. And her heart seconded that. But her head just couldn't follow suit. Damn logic anyway!
    She slapped the water again and gave up.  She was standing, dripping water on the deep pile peach colored rug when she realized that her robe was laying on her bed where she'd left it this morning while getting dressed for work. No way was she walking out there like this. His vows to the contrary notwithstanding, she wasn't going to put that much temptation in front of him right now.
     There was a soft tap on the door while she stood there trying to decide what to do. "Hey, thought you might need this." She heard the chuckle in his voice and could just imagine the look on his face.
     She opened the door a crack and tried her best to stand behind it.  She held her hand out for the robe. He smirked and hung it over her hand.
    "You know you're being ridiculous right? It's not like I haven't already seen every sweet inch of you." The wolf's grin was back, as was that strange light in his eyes. A mix of playfulness and raw animal hunger. It got her every time. She shivered and tried in vain to blame it on the water that was slowly drying on it's own from her naked skin.
     She snatched her arm back and shut the door. I am such a coward. She thought as she wrapped the fluffy pink robe around herself. Probably not the sexiest thing she owned. But certainly the most comfortable. She shook her hair out and slid her now dry feet into the zebra print slippers she kept tucked under the sink.
     She remembered all too well what he'd seen, and touched before. That was the problem. If he was a complete stranger that had come to her rescue, she wouldn't be standing here like an idiot again. Trying to keep the door between them for as long as she could. She sighed and reached for the doorknob.
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Tune in next week for part two of chapter two ;) If you like it so farm share the link with your friends, post a comment to let me know if I'm on the right track and if you want to read more about Sam and Riley. Until then, love from PA,
~Tabz

Feral, Chapter One, Part Three

     Looking back at the wrecked flat, she tried to take stock of what was salvageable. She walked to the coat closet and pulled out the broom. She began sweeping the shattered glass out onto the balcony. Anything to keep from having to look at the man who lay on her couch. His head leaned back against the arm giving her a full view of his neck and naked chest.
    Damn it! Did he have to be so blasted good looking. It ought to be illegal for any man to look that delicious. Even with the injured arm and everything else, she could feel her defenses slipping. One by one the bricks were falling.
    "Sam." Riley lifted his head and looked her in the eye. "We still need to talk. And I have to leave soon." he shifted his weight on the couch and held up his hand.
     Sam just stood there. She wasn't sure what he was going to say, but she was pretty sure she wasn't going to like it. She also wished there was anywhere to sit but the couch. Being so close to him rattled her already over sensitized nerves. He grinned at her hesitation. “I’m not going to rape you Sam. Although, at another time, the idea has potential."
    That heart melting smile came out again. Along with a silent challenge in his eyes. Her knees suddenly felt like jello. Somehow she didn't think it would ever come close to rape. You can't rape the willing. And if she didn't find a way to keep some distance between them, he would find out that that idea worked both ways.
    She gave herself a mental shake to knock the steamy images out of her head that shouldn't have been there in the first place and decided that retreat was NOT the better part of valor. She leaned the broom against the counter and walked back over to the couch intending to take her seat in the corner again. Riley had other ideas as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down on his lap. This time she sat up, like he was nothing more than a very comfortable couch cushion.
    Except that there was no doubting that Riley was all man. He was all solid muscle that shifted under her in ways that made it hard to breathe. And just then Sam was trying very hard not to breathe, or wiggle in any way. It wasn't easy.
    Riley took it upon himself at that minute to shift his weight on the couch again. Garnering a scathing look and a gasp from Sam as body parts connected that she had been working very hard at keeping as far apart as possible. His silent chuckle did nothing to help either as his body shook with the effort of trying not to outright laugh at her.
    "I promise Sweetheart. I'm not going to bite you. At least not right now. So will you please relax. I can't help the fact that I still want you and I refuse to try and deny it. Neither one of us are kids anymore." He reached up and tugged her hair again. It seemed to be his favorite thing to do. "So sit still. All that wiggling is breaking my concentration."
    Ugh! He really did think he was irresistible to her didn't he? Problem was he was probably right. She sighed and tried very hard to sit perfectly still.
    "Now that I have your attention. Where was I?" He still had one lock of her hair twisted around his fingers. He continued to play with it as he talked. "Like I said before, leaving you wasn't my idea. It certainly wasn't my choice. I was waiting around for you to grow up so I could marry you."
     That half grin flashed into being again and Sam swallowed hard. This was ridiculous! You'd think she was still that 17 year old kid who melted every time he looked at her. She was damn near 27 for Goddess sake.
    Get a grip girl! Before he wraps you around his little finger and then disappears again. Remembering the pain that caused last time was enough to bring her back to reality. And she held onto it like a life line with both hands.
    "Then what happened?" She hoped her voice sounded a bit more steady to him than it did to her own ears. "One minute we were having a ball. The time of our lives, then, poof! You were gone and that tyrant of a cousin of yours was giving me the "Dear Jane" routine."
    Even now she could remember the arrogant look on her face as she'd delivered the "bad news" that Riley was gone. "Family concerns" that had nothing to do with her and could she please not try and call. It would be better off for everybody if Sam just forgot she’d ever met Riley. Thank you and have a nice day as the door closed quietly in her face.
    "I'm sorry kitten. It wasn't my fault. I was 19. I went where they told me too. That's the way my Family works." The way he put such emphasis on the word family seemed like it should be capitalized.
    Riley stopped playing with her hair long enough to stroke her cheek. "I didn't even find out what they'd done until it was too late. I was on a plane to half a world away when my aunt told me that I wouldn't be allowed to see you when I came home."
    So he hadn't left because he wanted to? Fine. But that didn't absolve him of not doing something about it afterwards. "But it's been 10 years Riley. And as you pointed out, we aren't kids anymore. So why didn't you try to find me? And how did you know where I was now? None of this makes any sense."
    "I know. And I promise, I'll explain everything. But not tonight. All I can say is that my family is very strict. And there are certain, traditions, that have to be followed. One of which is returning to our family home. I didn't know that I had to go until it was too late."
    The absolutely dejected look on his face was more than any woman could take. She reached out and tucked a stray strand of jet black hair behind his ear, and smiled. That same stray lock had been her favorite toy back when. Well, that and kissing him. But she didn't think that would be wise right now.
    Instead she settled for returning to his lap. If she was gonna let him get under her skin like this again, she might as well enjoy it. He didn't resist. He simply wrapped his good arm around her and sighed.
    He rested his chin on her head for a minute before breaking the silence. "As much as I'm enjoying this, I really have to go. It will be morning soon."
    What did that have to do with anything? She sat up and looked him in the eye. "So let me guess. You're about to disappear again aren't you?" The tears started to well up again as she saw the guilt in his eyes. She growled and pushed away from him. It wasn't fair dammit!
    He tried to reach for her with his wounded arm but only succeeded in groaning as pain shot through it. Samantha used her own momentum to leave the couch and put as much space between them as she could. How could he!
    She rounded on him, murder in her eyes. "You should have let him kill me. At least that way I wouldn't have to watch you go again." She wanted to scream at him, she wanted to cut his heart out. She wanted to drop to her knees and beg him not to go. But she couldn't do any of those things. So she just stood there, her fists clenched so hard she could feel her nails drawing blood on her palms.
    Riley hauled himself up off the couch with his good arm and took the three steps across the room to stand in front of her, his boots crunching the broken glass back into sand. He tried to reach for her, but was left hanging as she spun and headed into the kitchen. Putting the solid depth of the breakfast counter between them.
    "Sam, I'm not going to disappear again. I couldn't now even if I wanted to. Which I don't." He saw the look in her eyes. He knew that look. He'd seen it many times since leaving her. It was the look of a cornered animal. Half fear, half fight. Either one could win. He hated to be the reason for it. But he couldn't stay here with her. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. His heart broke at thinking that he might very well have to leave her again. For her own safety. But telling her that right now would probably push her over the edge. And he couldn't do it.
    Samantha leaned against the refrigerator behind her and tried very hard not to cry. She wished she could start this night over. She'd have taken that extra shift when Steven had offered it if it meant she didn't have to do this. Stand here and pretend she wasn't going to completely fall apart when he walked out that door.
    Instead she sighed and looked him in the eye. "So what happens now?"
    "Now, you are going to get in that monster tub I saw in there while I clean up this mess, since you seem so adamant about it." He smiled halfheartedly at her. "And then I'm going to put you in bed." A light flared in his eyes as he said it but Sam was trying hard to pretend she wasn't seeing it or the images that skirted her own vision.
    He held up his hand as she started to protest. "Sweetheart, don't fight me. You are exhausted. Just do this for me." Now she could hear how weary his own voice sounded.
    She decided to take his advice. She did need to wash the dirt and broken glass off. And try to process everything that had happened. “Fine. But don't think this lets you off the hook. At some point we will finish this conversation." She yawned and took the three steps to the bathroom door. "And don't get any ideas, Mr. Kacey. I'm locking the door."
He smiled and watched her go. She had no idea that he could splinter that door to dust if he wanted to. But if it made her feel better to put something solid between them, so be it.
    Maybe it was for the best anyway. It would be dawn soon. And if he wasn't back at the compound by the time his brother awoke, there would be hell to pay. As it was he was going to have a time convincing his brother that Ellington was just sleeping one off somewhere. Until they found his decapitated body. But hopefully by then he would have Sam as far away from here as he could get her. Then he would come back and take whatever punishment his brother and the council wanted to deal him.
    He set about righting furniture and sweeping the glass out what was left of the door and off the balcony. Somehow this wasn't exactly what he'd expected her life to be like. He expected someone as giving and beautiful as her to have been married with a couple of kids by now.
    But he'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't glad she wasn't. The thought of anybody else touching her did things to his vision that weren't healthy right now. He took a deep breath and tried to calm the red storm that he could feel in the pit of his stomach.
    How in the nine gates of hell was he going to tell her the truth? “Hi sweetheart, I'm sorry I walked out all those years ago, but I had to go back to my families’ compound in Mexico and learn how to control the animal inside me. Oh yeah, and by the way, I'm half jaguar." Somehow he didn't think that would go over well.
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And that is the end of chapter one. If you would like to read more about Sam and Riley, please comment here, follow me on Twitter and FaceBook and let me know you want more.

Thank you for taking the time to share in their story and I look forward to hearing from you.

~Tabz

Feral, Chapter One, Part Two

 
"Alright Mr. Kacey. Spill it. Who was that guy, why was he here and what did he want?  We'll get to my questions about you in a minute." She ran a hand through her hair and hoped she sounded a little more stable than she felt. She sat down on the other arm of the couch, propping her feet on the springs so she could face him.
    "His name was Ellington and he was here to kill you. But it's my fault." He looked up and there was such sadness in his big brown eyes that it was all Sam could do not to hop across the couch and throw an arm around him.
    "Why would anybody want to kill me?"
    "Because they thought it was the best way to punish me." He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands on his black jeans.
    That was when Sam noticed the thin trail of blood that ran down his right arm. His silk shirt had been ripped from shoulder to wrist and a long thin gash was welling up. Her heart skipped a beat. "Riley Joseph Kacey, why didn't you tell me you were hurt." She growled at him and jumped up from the couch. She turned to take the ten steps over to her bedside table and get her small first aid kit out of the drawer.
    He stopped her by catching her good wrist with his left hand. "I'll be fine. It's just a scratch."
    "No, just a scratch is what Sheba gave me. That is a real wound that needs cleaning at the very least." She wrenched her arm loose and walked over to the bedside table. She pulled the kit out and turned back to him. "Can you take off your shirt?"
    "I thought I'd never hear you say something like that again." He grinned and began unbuttoning the torn shirt with his left hand.
    Sam pulled the end table up from where it lay against the far wall and set it up right in front of the couch. She laid the kit down on the table and reach out to help him with what was left of the shirt.
    Ignoring his words for fear of saying something scathing, she pushed the shirt off of his shoulders. Careful not to move his right arm too much.
    He groaned as she pulled the sleeve away from his wrist. "I'm sorry." She muttered through clenched teeth. She was trying very hard to maintain some shred of control over her sanity. Being so close to him hurt or not, was definitely not helping.
     She remembered all too well the feel of those strongly muscled arms under her fingers. It didn't matter how many years had passed. Some things you just don't forget.
    She tried changing the subject for her own sake. "Why would it punish you to hurt me? And who are 'They'?" She pulled the antibiotic spray from the kit and sprayed his arm generously with it. He winced but didn't make a sound.
    "Did he have a knife?" The wound wasn't very deep but it was a very clean cut. She patted it dry with another gauze pad. Then began opening a roll of sterile gauze. "It looks like it's not deep enough for stitches, but I'm going to wrap it anyway. At least until the bleeding stops." She knew she was rambling because she was so nervous. But she couldn't help it.
    "No, I think he picked up a piece of the door. It all happened so fast." He looked like he wanted to say more. Instead he reached out and wrapped a lock of her hair around his left hand. "I'm so glad you never cut your hair."  He gave it a little tug and let it go.
     Sam made a mental note to cut it all off as soon as she could. She tied the gauze tight against the wound and stood back to admire her "field dressing" skills. Instead she locked eyes with Riley. And her heart did that skippy thing it always had when he looked at her like that. Like she was either the most precious thing in the world, or a fresh kill in front of a hungry leopard.
    "Will you please stop looking at me like that? Sheesh!" She made a poor attempt at feigned anger to hide her melting insides.
    "Like what Sweetheart?" He was grinning again. The cad had figured out he was getting under her skin. And he was enjoying it. Yup. Definitely a fresh kill in front of a hungry leopard.
    "Don't you 'sweetheart' me. You gave up the right to call me that 10 years ago." This time the anger in her voice was real. So were the tears she was trying desperately to fight back. She turned away and made a big deal of putting everything back in the kit.
    "For what it's worth. I am sorry Samantha. I never meant to hurt you." The pain in his voice sounded so sincere. She wished she could believe it. She wanted so bad to believe him. And at the same time, it was easier to believe that he was a black hearted ass who never cared about anybody but himself. At least that was what she had told herself over and over for the last 10 years. Each brick in the wall around her heart was engraved with it.
    "Save it Riley. It was a long time ago. I'm a big girl now. Not some 17 year old kid who will fall for that Han Solo smile and those big brown eyes again." Now, if she could only convince herself of that, she'd be OK. Because right now, she wasn't so sure.
    "Fine. So be it." He didn't seem convinced, more like "humoring the madwoman." But she let it go. For now. "I'll answer your questions." he reached down with his good arm and dragged a couch cushion over to throw up on the springs. He slid down the arm and leaned against the corner of the couch. Sam did the same, so they sat facing each other like general's on the battle field. Neither side willing to yield.
    "It goes all the way back to when I left you. I can't tell you about what happened tonight without telling you why I left back then."  A shadow passed across his face and was gone. Sam was too busy wrestling her own memories to see it.
    "I want to make something very clear to you Sam." He leaned forward. "Look at me." His voice dropped to that silky tone, somewhere between warm chocolate in July and hot cocoa with extra marshmallows in December. "I didn't leave because I wanted to. I left because I was forced to. If I had had my choice, my life, your life, would have been very different."
    That shadow was back in his eyes again. This time Sam saw it. And it made her heart flip. Her chest tightened and she lifted her hand without thinking. She caught herself just short of crossing the couch and pushed herself firmly against the cushions. Her arms folded tightly across her chest.
    She couldn't believe she was sitting here having this conversation. Her flat looked like a tornado had hit it. The cat was softly mewling to be let out of her cage. And the only man she had ever loved was telling her that the last 10 years of pain, anger, and finally feeling nothing because she'd walled herself in so high nobody got through, was all for nothing. She didn't know whether to cry, or go back in the kitchen and get that knife out of the sink.
    "What was so important that you had to leave without a word? Not one word in explanation. I would have settled for a note. Something. Not to have some relative tell me that you weren't coming back and could I please not call or try to contact you." This time the tears rose to the surface faster than she could push them down again.  They spilled over and ran down her cheeks. She brushed them away with the back of her hand.
    Riley ignored her squeak of protest and his own injured arm to pull her across the couch and onto his lap. He wrapped his good arm around her as she buried her head against his chest.
    Sam gave in to the tears. Between the events of tonight and the pain of 10 years of trying to pretend that she had ever stopped loving him, she couldn't fight them anymore.
    She wasn't sure how long she laid there. Even after the tears dried. Completely unwilling to move for fear that she would wake up in her bed across the room and find that it was all a dream / nightmare. It really didn't matter which one it was. For just a moment she could lay here and pretend.
She rubbed her cheek against his chest remembering / loving the feel of his warm skin against hers. Even his scent hadn't changed. Like rainy summer nights, he always smelled warm and clean.
    Riley wrapped her hair around his arm and pulled her head back. She looked up and was surprised to see tears shining in his eyes. “I missed you too Sweetheart." He smiled and let go of her hair.
    Sam rocked back onto her knees as he dropped his right foot to the floor to make room for her on the couch. Sam's eyes widened as she saw the evidence of how much he'd missed her straining against his tight black jeans. She narrowed her eyes at him and he had the good sense to give her a guilty grin. Though it looked more "wolfish" than repentant. She accepted it anyway and left the couch to check on Sheba.
     Said feline had given up her queenly protests at such treatment and was sound asleep, with her back to the cage door, snoring softly. Sam decided just to leave her in there for now. Since she was unsure what else might happen tonight.
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Feral, Chapter One, Part One...

Prologue

 Sam must have walked by the place a million times on her way home from work. And it never failed to send a shiver down her spine. Whether it was due to fear, revulsion, or something else, she was never quite sure.
    It certainly wasn't the kind of place she would have been caught dead in. The music was too loud for one thing. The bass beat like a heart drum through your feet as you passed, and no light spilled from the open doorway. The windows of the old warehouse were completely painted black.
    Sam tried hard to suppress a nervous giggle as she stole a glance at the twin mammoths guarding the doorway. A deep purple velvet rope stretched between them like some weird umbilical cord. Did they really think they looked cool? Yeah, some girl's might have thought they were good looking, in a thugged out Blues Brothers kind of way. But they gave her the creeps.
    She ducked her head and picked up the pace. Hoping to avoid catching their attention. She really didn't want to think about a confrontation with the walking walls.
    It was only a couple more blocks to the renovated warehouse flat she shared with Sheba. Her entirely too fat Calico and Persian mix cat and one very lonely spider plant that had seen better days.
                                                                               Chapter One                               
    The key gave her grief like always as she had to jiggle it while pulling up on the doorknob. She knew it wouldn't do any good, but she'd try the idiot landlord again in the morning. Maybe if she bugged him enough, he'd get off his butt and fix it. Well, it was worth a try anyway.
    She flipped on the light and let out a little huff to blow a stray blond lock out of her eyes. She knew she should cut the unruly mass of corn silk curls that hung to just below her ribs. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She looked in the dingy mirror that hung above the side table as she flung her keys in the glass candy dish that had been her grandmother's last birthday gift to her.
    Time was starting to catch up to her. At least it felt like it. She couldn't actually see the crows feet and worry lines yet. But she thought she could feel them there. Just below the surface. Waiting to spring up at her one morning when she least expected it and shout "Hey you! You're getting old." But it was probably just her imagination.
    What she did see in the mirror wasn't as bad as all that. She tried very hard to take care of herself. At just shy of her 27th birthday, she still looked better than some girls 5 or 10 years younger. While she didn't believe in "exercise" per say, she did believe in hard work and staying active. She walked most everywhere and didn't own a car. Public transportation was too readily available in LA not to use it.
    She stood 5'9" in her bare feet and still wore the same size 14 jeans she had in high school. She'd never been one of the "skinny" girls. Her curves had hit her at about 12 and there had been no help for it. Funny though, she'd never dated much back then. Not because they hadn't asked, but because she simply couldn't bring herself to be bothered with them. Her mind was always on her books. And her heart, well, she wasn't going there. Not tonight.
    She gave herself a mental shake and nudged the door shut with her heel. Sheba picked that moment to hop up on the table and demand to know why she hadn't been fed yet. "I know Sheba. I know. I've got what you want right here in my pocket." She reached out and scratched the black spot behind the cats left ear. Her favorite greeting.
    She was rewarded with an even louder bleat as Sheba dropped down from the table to saunter into the "kitchen" of the one room flat. Which amounted to a counter jutting out into the middle of the open space and an L shaped counter top behind it with just enough space built in between the battered cupboards for an old chipped porcelain double sink and the four burner stove that looked like it had been there since the 50's. Her poor old fridge sat against the end of the counter. Facing sideways so it didn't block the bathroom door.
    She gazed longingly at her only luxury, the ancient cast iron tub that took up most of the tiny bathroom. Truth be told, it was her sole reason for taking this flat over the other nicer ones she had looked at. As tall as she was, an old tub like that one was a Gods' send at the end of a long night at the record shop where she worked.
    Sheba bleated impatiently in front of her bowl. Pulling Sam back to the business at hand. She'd get her soke. It would just have to be later. She sighed and hit the light switch over the sink. The sound of the electric can opener was all Sheba needed to push her fuzzy head against Sam's leg in appreciation of the tuna to come. She dumped the tuna in the bowl and turned to rinse the can for recycling.
    That's when she caught the shadow of something on the balcony. Her senses immediately began to sharpen. She slowly reached for the butcher knife lying in the bottom of the sink. She got a tight grip on it and turned round to face whoever was out there.
    Making sure to stay behind to counter, she took two steps forward and leaned over just enough to get a good look out the sliding glass door. A flash of movement was all the warning she had as the glass shattered in.
    Two men came stumbling through the stardust of glass as it fell, grappling like Grecian wrestlers. She jumped back just in time to avoid being hit as they smashed against the counter hard. The one who hit the counter let out a loud gaff of air and slid down against the low wall under the Formica.
    That's when she heard a voice from her past grate out through clenched teeth, “Lock yourself in the bathroom and don't come out till I tell you to. NOW!"
    Without thinking twice she snatched up Sheba in one hand, stilling holding the knife in the other and did just that.
    She leaned on the sagging sink cabinet and tried to catch her breathe. Please, please Goddess, tell me I imagined that. Tell me that isn't who I think that is. She prayed silently. All the time listening intently to the destruction going on outside the door.
    There was a resounding thud as something very large hit the bathroom door. Then everything got eerily still. A faint russelling was all she could hear. Then a strong knock on the door followed by labored breathing and he said, "Alright. You can come out now."
    But I don’t want to come out. She thought to herself. She really didn't. She didn't want to see if she was right. But she couldn't stay locked in here like an idiot either.
    She dumped Sheba unceremoniously in the claw footed tub and, still holding the knife, slowly opened the door. Her heart broke as she looked up into the warmest brown eyes she'd ever seen.
    "Hi." He said. That halfhearted, incredibly irresistible smile she remembered melting her heart. She didn't know what to do. On one hand she wanted to collapse in his arms. On the other, she wanted to see what would happen if she used the knife in her hand on his cold black heart. As always he read her like an open book. And promptly took a step back to allow her to pass.
    After surveying what was left of her possessions, she was seriously considering that knife thing again. She whirled on him. "WHAT in the nine billion names of GOD were you doing? What are you doing here? And I hope you realize that you ARE going to help me clean up this mess don't you?"
    He started to chuckle, but obviously the look in her eyes and the knife in her hand helped his sense of self-preservation kick in, because he began to cough instead.
    "I was saving your pretty little neck Samantha darling." The way he drew out "darling" made her want to scream. And not in anger.
     "So, what did you do with the body? Since I don't see any blood I am assuming he got away?" She hoped she sounded smug and cold. Because she certainly didn't feel that way. She wasn't sure exactly what she was feeling, but it was anything but cold.
     He turned his back on her and started picking up the larger pieces of glass and carrying them out to the balcony. Completely unafraid of the knife she still gripped tightly. Either that or he was daring her to do it. Knowing him it could have gone either way.
"Hell's fire," she muttered and went to put the knife back in the sink. Glass crunching under her booted feet. Damn but she was glad she hadn't had time to kick her shoes off yet. At least it wouldn't be too hard to clean up the needle sharp shards. Hardwood floors were good for easy cleaning.
    She half turned and stole a good look at him in the wane light from the single bulb over the sink. What she saw made her heart sink all the way down to her lower belly. Where it melted and pooled like chocolate on a hot summer day. If anything, 10 years had made him even better looking.
    Their birthdays were only a couple weeks, and two years, apart. So that would make him almost 29. There wasn't a bit of gray in the thick dark hair that curled against the collar of his expensive looking silk shirt. In fact, he didn't look that much older than the last time she'd seen him. When he'd walked away from her without looking back even once. There were no lines showing on his face. He really didn't look a day over 19.
    He caught her staring and that smug, rogue's grin came back. "See something you like?" His eyes turned that annoying / totally sexy shade of deep gold.
    Sam grunted and walked back into the bathroom. Sheba was still trying to get her over sized butt out of the deep sided bath tub. Ordinarily Sam would have been rolling on the floor laughing at her. But given the current circumstances, she just reached in and hauled her out. She carried her to her travel cage on the opposite side of the flat. Sheba let out a very unhappy meow and fought Sam as hard as she could. But she eventually lost and submitted to the confinement.
    Sam was in the process of rubbing the scratches on her wrist Sheba had been nice enough to gift her with, when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She looked up from her wrist just in time to see him take a step back. A strange light glowed in his eyes.
    "Riley?" She didn't know if it was just the sound of her voice, or the tremble of real fear she couldn't hide, but he shook his head and turned away.
    "Riley, what is going on?" She walked over and reached out to put her hand on his arm. He snatched his arm away like she'd burned him. "Go fix those scratches. They look kind of deep." He never even turned around to look at her.
     She was surprised to find that his rebuff hurt. And it made her angrier than she'd been in years. She held her wrist under the hot water to rinse the worst of the scratches. She'd worked long and hard to build a thick wall around her heart when he'd left. And she wasn't about to let him literally come crashing back into her life and break it down so easily.
    She pulled open a drawer and grabbed a dish towel. Wrapping it around her wrist, she turned back to the rest of the room.
    Riley had moved away into the "living room". She always thought of each space in quotations since it was all really one space. She had tried to separate each area by grouping the furniture. Of course right now that was a joke since most of her furniture was in pieces.
     He had turned her threadbare old couch back upright and was sitting on one arm. Hunched over like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

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Tune in next Saturday for the next installment, same bat time, same...awwwhh, you know the drill ;)