Circle of Danger (15 page)

Marie leaned to the side, resting her head on a pillow. What was she going to do about Ryker? He believed he had to protect her from the world. She'd had enough of depending on others. Time for her to pull up her big-girl panties. Most people went after what they could get. Her parents had sold her to a monster for drug money. Master used her for his perversions. She just didn't understand what Ryker got out of
helping
her. If he climaxed whenever they had sex, she would say it was for relief, since he never slept with any of the women in the Sector.

Besides, she didn't want Ryker trying to protect her and placing himself in danger. She never wanted to be a hindrance.

Lying to Ryker had been hard. She'd left out one thing Liam had said. He'd warned her about the Wizard's obsession with capturing her and killing anyone who got in the way. No one would be safe around her until Ryker stopped the one responsible for creating the drug.

Once they returned to Sector and she talked with Doc, she'd take back as much of her life as she could and protect Ryker the only way she could. By separating herself from him. By no longer needing him. She would find other ways to satisfy the drug's flashback.

Why was her heart feeling like it had shriveled up and died?

 

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

M
arie squirmed on the exam table as Doc listened to her heart. She reminded herself she'd come to him for an answer. She had few secrets the doctor didn't know about, in regards to the scars and damage her body had sustained since she'd been given into Master's care. He'd been the only doctor she'd ever remembered seeing and he'd treated her several times when Master became overzealous in reaching his satisfaction.

“Your heart is steady and strong. That's good.” He stepped back. “Any chest pains or dizziness?”

She shook her head.

“We took samples of your blood immediately after Ryker brought you in and compared it to the other women. There are similarities, but yours is more aggressive in melding with your hormones. So you're right. It's different. Maybe the changes are the reason the drug is lasting longer.” Doc's cheeks reddened.

He was such a softhearted man, and she understood he felt sorry for her predicament.

“So are the flashbacks causing any other problems?”

Doc cleared his throat. “That's a good question. Let me first mention one thing we're certain of about the drug.” He tucked in his lips, concentrating on what he would say next. “It has a powerful sex-drive accelerator. The simplest way to explain it is whenever a person's adrenaline begins to pump through the body, it kick-starts the drug into overdrive. So if you can keep calm and not become excited or scared, you should be able to take care of any problems”—he cleared his throat again—“by yourself.”

It made sense. Whenever she'd been in danger with Ryker, her flashbacks happened with regularity. She thought it'd been tied to her feelings for him. A mixture of relief and sadness spread across her shoulders and chest. Between the Wizard's threatened danger and her determination to do without Ryker's
help
, her decision yesterday at Olivia's was the only one to make. She needed to keep her distance from him.

Doc continued. “The extreme reactions you're having from the drug are wearing on your body and in turn your health. I'll give you a prescription for an anxiety medicine that should help you cope, but you can't take it for very long. Maybe three months. After that, it'll quit working without taking larger doses. The stronger it is, the more dangerous it becomes to your health. Just as dangerous as Blossom Flower. But the small dosage might make your life a little simpler until we find the antidote or the drug finally dissipates.”

With a hand on Doc's arm, she softly said, “Don't say anything to Ryker.”

“Don't say anything about what?” Ryker walked into the room and crossed his arms. He'd reluctantly agreed to stay away while Doc examined her. So she wasn't surprised to see him barge in before they were finished.

Doc opened his mouth and she stopped him. “I'll handle it.”

The white-headed man nodded. He turned to Ryker. “Listen to her.” He shook a finger in warning as if the leader of The Circle was a child, and then left the room.

She jumped off the table and with nervous fingers smoothed the wrinkles from her soft cotton blouse. A stomp of each foot straightened the legs of her jeans. Fussing with her clothes gave her a little time to focus on what she needed to say.

“Well?”

“Doc said the drug is a little different than what was used on the dead girls. Maybe that's the reason we haven't seen another dead one in so long. Though I hate to think of anyone else going through what I have.”

“So you're okay?”

She wanted to blurt out,
No! My heart's breaking!
But what use would that serve?

“Doc said as long as I remain calm, I should be able to take care of my flashbacks.” Her chin lifted in confidence. She wanted no doubts that she agreed with the doctor. Ryker's energy and concentration should be centered on hunting down Mulcahy and stopping him. He didn't need to worry about her. Absurdly, he would remain safer that way too.

Ryker's jaw shifted and he nodded in deep thought. “Okay. I see.” After taking a deep breath he turned and strode out.

What had she expected? For him to claim he couldn't live without her touch? That he loved her and wanted her for herself and not as a means to give her relief from a stupid drug? Did she truly believe he only touched her to protect one of his people, namely herself? No different than throwing his body on a bomb to shield those around him. If that was the reason he provided his
services
, she didn't want the sacrifice.

The room darkened as she stood there staring at the empty doorway. The bastard! She picked up a box of tissues and threw it against the wall, knocking down a picture of a man's anatomy.

A female nurse ran into the room. “Everything all right in here?”

“No. I just don't understand men. The assholes!” Marie wasn't sure why she was so angry. Ryker hadn't argued with her, hadn't tried to change her mind. It had been for the best.

The nurse grinned. “What's there to understand? The men I know love food and sex, sports and sex, guns and sex, cars and sex—and not necessarily in that order.” She chuckled as she picked up the box and picture, arranging them back where they belonged. She was still chuckling as she left the room.

Marie covered her cheeks. The tingling she'd become so familiar with shot through her body. Her jaw ached with the frustration of knowing she couldn't ask Ryker for his help. Taking deep breaths, she headed toward her suite, determined to grab her helper out of the nightstand and forget about the stupid man in her life.

With each step, her feet hit the floor with hard, solid thuds. Before she realized she'd done so, she stopped in front of Ryker's bedroom door. He probably wasn't even there.

Still, she enjoyed pounding on the door. Who did he think he was? How dare he brush her off as if she didn't matter? She struggled to gulp in enough air. The tingling radiated from her groin and nipples.

The door swung open and her fists continue to pound on his bare chest.

“Marie, what's the matter? Has something happened?” He grabbed her wrists and held them above his heart. The rapid beating beneath her fingers betrayed his calm manner.

“You bastard! How dare you!” Her breath burst between each word.

“What?” He released her and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her inside with him as he shut the door.

“Calm down and tell me what's wrong.” He no longer touched her.

She slammed her open hands against his chest. He fell back a couple steps. Eyebrows lifted and mouth hung open, he raised his hands, palms open, showing he wouldn't fight back.

“You fuck me for days and all you have to say is ‘I see?' ” Her voice broke on the last word from lack of oxygen. The tingling squeezed her torso, heated her face and chest. “You fuck me again and again, bringing me to a fucking climax each time, but do you? Do you even fucking come?” She wanted to regain control of her body and mouth, but she'd had enough of others doing what they wanted to her. It was time for her to take back. There was a freedom to letting her anger take control.

“Marie, I don't—”

“Do you have any idea how demoralizing that is to a woman?” She slammed her hands against his chest again.

A couple more steps back, he reached for her. “Come on. You have to understand—”

“That's just it.” She pushed him again. “I don't understand how you could treat me that way after everything we've been through together. When Master made you watch him touching me, I knew you didn't have a choice.”

“Marie, I don't want to talk about it.”

“You know,
Master
, there are times talking about it makes things better.” She slammed her hands into him once more. This time he stood his ground. She could tell she'd finally gotten him angry with that
Master
crack. “Ooh, does that upset you? Don't like being called Master? Afraid I would talk about the time he made you watch him screw me?”

“Talking never solved anything.” She was familiar with the mulish look on his face. He refused to heal. Sure. He could control his body, but he refused to come to terms with the fact that he couldn't control everything, just as she couldn't.

“How would you know? You've never tried it.” She stepped into his personal space and looked up into his face as he glowered down at her. “I remember when you got the scars on your ass. You probably don't remember, but it was me who doctored them, rubbing in the antibacterial cream everywhere it hurt.”

“Yeah. I remember. That was last time I let him fuck
me
.” Ryker lifted her by the shoulders to look straight into her eyes. “Is that what you wanted to hear? So are we going to talk about it now? Let's instead talk about how I enjoyed sinking that sword into his stomach and up to his chest. I knew exactly where to aim. He made sure I was trained to be a killing machine and I was fucking good at it. And I would kill him over and over again as I do in my dreams. I killed him for what he did to my parents as much as for what he did to you.”

She gasped.

“I deserved what he did to me. I should've saved my parents. But I couldn't let him hurt you anymore. He knew I cared and he used both of us against each other. I would've done anything for you. But I have my limits!”

His eye flashed with anger, then changed to lust. He threw her onto his bed.

She bounced a couple times, causing her hair to fall over her eyes. By the time she brushed it out of the way, he'd kicked his pants off. He stood above her dangerous and fierce with his cock stiff and heavy. The tingling in her body centered between her legs.

She rose to her knees and pulled him by his cock closer to the bed. The heat in her hand expanded as he came nearer. Her mouth engulfed the head, and he groaned. His fingers dug into her scalp as he began to thrust.

Her hands cupped his buttocks, massaging and caressing the scars she'd remembered, and the feel of him excited her more. A finger slid between his cheeks.

“Damn you, Marie.” He jerked away from her mouth, making her hands drop from their exploration.

Before she could protest, he pressed her back and climbed on top of her. He lifted one of her legs and plunged into her, stroking long and deep several times, and then he quit moving.

“No!” With her whole body, she pushed him over until she straddled his hips. He had stopped to prevent himself from coming. She was certain.

He rolled her back over. “No. We'll do it my way.”

Furious that he planned to take control, she released her temper again. Her fists hammered on his chest and shoulders. She kicked her heels, hitting him along his thighs and lower back.

“Stop!”

She continued to fight him. She needed him to stay and finish it. His temper flared as bright as a volcano erupting. She scratched his back, long rakes down the scars she'd always been careful with before. He shouted his matching fury and began to thrust. Her nails dug into his sides. He began to pound harder. The slapping of flesh against flesh filled the air. The bed pounded the wall. She didn't care that she would have bruises along her thighs and mons. She never wanted him to quit.

He filled her so full until she looked over the edge into pain. She arched her back wanting more. Sweat beaded his brow. He closed his eye and his hair fell across his patch and face. She'd never seen him so beautiful. He picked up speed, hammering into her, his fingers gripping her hips as if afraid she'd escape. She knew with his loss of control he was as near to completion as she was and wouldn't take much more. His large, rough fingers slid up to cover her breasts and then rolled and pinched her nipples. She screamed as she came. When she couldn't take it any longer, she clamped her mouth down on his shoulder and sunk in her teeth.

His roar shook the walls. He lifted her hips and drilled into her hard and quick. Then he stopped. “Marie! Yes!”

Inside her, his cock throbbed so hard with his release that she could feel it and she climaxed again.

She stared at his face. Pain. He desired pain to lose control.

“Now you know. I love it when you dig your nails into me. Pain releases me. The pain, the anger helps me let go.” His face twisted in self-loathing.

R
yker stared at the ceiling. Marie's breath caressed his chest as she dozed. He closed his eye for a moment, embarrassed by the tear sliding down into his hair. His patch still covered his right eye, trapping the other tear. She'd seen him without the patch when they were younger and normally he wouldn't give a damn if anyone saw him without it. So he couldn't understand why it bothered him for her to see the white-glazed blind eye. It had never appeared to upset her before. With the explosion of his parents' car, the steel had been so hot when it hit the side of his face that the heat damaged the pupil, iris, and lens. The blankness of the eye caused some people to cringe or stare.

She shifted but her eyes remained closed. He squeezed her to his side.

Why worry about his eye and what she thought? He knew he was ignoring the real problem. By admitting he needed pain to come, he'd allowed her to glimpse at the monster inside of him. Pain. He'd known for most of his life that pain was his Achilles heel. A remnant of living with a dealer of pain. Pain was always connected to what he wanted: food, warmth, and love.

Marie had mentioned an incident he'd wanted to forget but considering the circumstances, he'd done what he had to do. He'd never told her why he succumbed to Theo that night. He'd never told her the last time Theo tried to touch him he'd been sixteen and refused to submit any longer to his perversions. Boys at that age were filled with hope and possessed balls larger than life. Hadn't he known better? Theo was a master manipulator. If he hadn't yielded, Theo promised that Marie would've taken his place. No way would he allow Marie to suffer if he could prevent it. Even at twenty-three, he knew he wasn't strong enough—nor did he have the operatives' support—to overtake The Circle from Theo.