Connected (Twists of Fate #1) Page 12

  He felt her distance, her pain, her sorrow, and it tore him the fuck up. He had to get to her.

  Now.

  Spying a phone across the room, he flipped the covers back and swung his legs over. But the pul at his chest froze his muscles. It took him a sec to realize it was a physical restraint and not a soul-related one.

  He hooked his fingers into the col ar of his gown, and ripped the cheap-ass fabric right down the middle. He plucked off the suction-cupped wires attaching him to an array of machines lined up next to him. A grimace, tug and a curse had the IV out as wel .

  The machines screamed in protest, but so the fuck what?

  Free of the wires and tubes, and the now shredded-and-useless gown, Rhys flew to his feet and skidded to a stop at the phone. Snatching the receiver up, he began punching numbers.

  A squeak of a door, and a feminine gasp had him dropping the phone to cover his man bits.

  Fucking hell!

  *****

  Addison’s knees shook as she pushed to her feet. Her legs were noodles as they somehow lead her to the door. And when she turned the knob and saw Xavier’s face, she felt like her entire being would shatter.

  Sucking in a breath, she tried to stay strong. She wrapped her arms around her torso, literal y holding herself together as she approached Xavier and then sat down next to him.

  “Is he…” Xavier’s voice was quiet, reserved.

  As if trying to convince herself before saying the words out loud, Addison searched within.

  She could stil feel Rhys…but not. She final y nodded, eyes averted and blinking hard. She would not cry. She would not cry.

  “He’s gone,” she whispered.

  Ah, hel . The tears sprung from her eyes without permission and without remorse. They had a mind of their own as they poured down her face to drip off her chin. A quick gasp from her side told her Xavier noticed, and she nearly laughed at his ridiculous response.

  Nearly.

  After a minute she felt his arm come around her shoulder and pul her to his chest. At first, she resisted.

  “It’s okay, Addison. Lean on me. Let it out.” And then she did, clutching his tee shirt, drenching it as she sobbed. His large hand stroked her hair, and it wasn’t long before she felt the little hitches in his chest as he shed a tear or two himself—not that he’d ever own up to it.

  Xavier held her close and soothed her with murmured words. She didn’t know what he was saying under the sound of her grief, but the sentiment was exactly what she needed.

  Eventual y her tears dried and her breathing evened out.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Xavier asked, running his hand up and down her back.

  “Yes.” She pul ed away to look at him with guilt in her tear-swol en eyes. “I’m sorry for fal ing apart on you like that.

  Here you lost your brother…” He shook his head. “I lost my brother weeks ago, and you brought him back to me.” He cupped her cheeks. “What a gift you gave me.” She flushed at his words. “I wish he could have stayed. For you, for me. For the world.”

  “I’d made my peace with his death. And now I got to say goodbye.” He smiled gently. “I couldn’t ask for more.” She nodded as he dropped his hands and sat back, giving her a comfortable bubble of space to compose herself in.

  “Did you want to stay for a few days? I can see if the hotel wil extend the reservation.”

  “No. I should get back. I need…” She ran her fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I don’t know what I need, but I know it’s not hiding out in this room.” She touched his knee briefly. “Thank you for the offer.” He smiled gently and patted her hand. “I’l go check on flights for you.” Addison went to the bedroom to gather her things. She didn’t bring much, so it was no time at al before she was sitting on the couch again, her packed bag at her feet.

  “I was able to get you on the next flight. First class.” He grinned at her wide eyes.

  “You didn’t have to—”

  He held up his hands to ward off any argument. “It’s al they had left, so it’s what you get.”

  “Thank you, Xavier.” She smiled in appreciation. “Should we get going?”

  “There’s stil a couple of hours before we need to leave. Are you hungry?” Although she shook her head, her stomach rumbled in response.

  He arched a brow and held out his hand. “Looks like we eat.” She took his hand. “Looks like.”

  Xavier lead her down to the hotel’s restaurant where they sat in a secluded table near the back. Addison knew she needed to eat something, but had no appetite whatsoever.

  She ended up ordering a chef salad—fil ing, but light—and a peaceful silence surrounded them as they ate.

  “Tel me about Rhys,” Addison said, pushing away her half-empty plate.

  Xavier smiled, nudging his plate to the side as wel as his cel rang.

  He dug it out of his pocket and frowned at the display. “…

  crazy-ass number…” he muttered as he turned the phone off. “Sorry about that. So…what do you want to know?”

  “Anything. Everything.”

  “Oh, I love tel ing Rhys stories. You might never shut my ass up.” He chuckled as he launched into the first, a tale about when Rhys final y got his first car and promptly wrapped it around a telephone pole. He’d been rubbernecking to gawk at a woman jogger.

  Then it was a story about when Rhys was little and Xavier had convinced him that he fil ed his sandbox with quicksand, and if he went in it, he’d be sucked down forever. When their mom tried to set Rhys inside it one afternoon to play, Rhys had screamed bloody murder, even bringing the neighbors running.

  Another was about the time Rhys went on a date in high school and just when he was sliding into second base for the first time, his date’s father busted into the car and dragged her out of the backseat.

  The stories continued through the rest of their meal, in the car, and through the airport. They had their own private memorial for Rhys as Addison learned more about the man who would forever own her heart. She laughed. She cried.

  But mostly she listened, and she loved.

  Addison was sad to see their homage to Rhys end as they came to a stop at her gate.

  She turned to face Xavier, linking their hands between them. “I can stil feel him, ya know.”

  “How so?”

  “It’s not how it was before, but an echo of his presence.

  Almost like he left a little piece of himself behind for me to remember him by.”

  He squeezed her hands. “Thank you again, Addison, for everything you did for him. And for me.”

  “You’re welcome. And thank you for sharing al your stories.”

  “A pleasure. It was…nice.” He smiled, gently tugging at her hands. “How ‘bout you let me check on you in a few weeks.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” She didn’t want to be an inconvenience.

  “I know. But I want to.”

  She searched his eyes for a minute and, seeing his sincerity, she nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “Besides, Rhys wanted us to stay in touch.” He rubbed a thumb absently over the back of her hand.

  “He did?”

  “Yeah. He was worried about you.”

  A warmth flooded inside her. “God, I’m gonna miss him.”

  “Me too.” He pul ed her close for a quick squeeze and promptly released her. “I’l be in your area the week after next. I’l stop in then.”

  “Okay. I’l email you my cel so you can cal me when you get into town. I’m going dive right back into my work, so I might not be home. I’m gonna need to stay busy.”

  “I can understand that.”

  She gave him another quick hug before grabbing her bag and boarding the plane.

  Other than the echo of Rhys’ presence, she felt alone for the first time in every way possible.

  *****

  Since Rhys left, Addison had managed to keep her days busy at the studio. But the
nights fil ed her with a sense of foreboding.

  This one was no better than the rest.

  Over the last week it felt as if Rhys was there, but not there.

  And Addison couldn’t deny the fact that the overal sensation kept getting stronger and stronger, especial y over the last two days.

  Xavier was supposed to visit later in the week, but she hadn’t decided how to tel him about what was going on.

  Should she tel him? Did she even understand it herself?

  She stretched out on the couch as she tried once again to fumble through her thoughts. Was it residual echoes she was feeling, or was Rhys trying to come back to her? She wanted him back. Jesus, how she wanted him back. But she wanted him to have the peace he deserved.

  Should she have tried reaching out to him? What if she had and stopped him from moving on?

  But what if she hadn’t and he was lost out there, seeking her out? She couldn’t turn her back on him.

  Just like she had throughout the day, Addison heard the whisper of her name in her head.

  Only this time, without work distracting her, it sounded stronger. Closer.

  She squeezed her eyes closed in frustration. Should she reach out to him? What was the right thing to do?

  To hel with it.

  “Rhys?” she breathed.

  Addison. Relief tainted his voice as it grew louder. There you are.

  He sounded the same, felt the same, but it was different.

  He was distant, disconnected, as if he was stil trying to find his way back to her.

  Tears seeped between her lids, trailing across her temples to wet her hair. And then she braced herself as she opened up ful y to their connection.

  Addison? Are you there?

  “Oh, Rhys. I’m here. Oh, God. I’m here.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t believe you came back. Are you…okay? Did you…”

  I’m perfectly fine, he assured, the connection feeling marginal y stronger. Where are you?

  The question concerned her. What did he mean? Couldn’t he sense her?

  “I’m right here.” She mental y reached out to him, their link as tangible to her as it was the night before he left. “Can’t you feel me?”

  Now I got you.

  She was suddenly struck by how she could hear him al around her—inside her head and out—as if in stereo. Their connection was gaining strength, even surpassing what they had before.

  He chuckled. I’m glad you still talk to me out loud.

  Her brow contracted. “Why’s that?”

  “Because then I can fol ow the sound of your voice.” Addison jolted straight up, whipping around to see Rhys’

  larger-than-life frame fil ing the doorway.

  Her heart thundered, her breath seized. “Rhys?” His smile was blinding. Bril iant. Beautiful.

  “Hey, baby.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Addison couldn’t get to Rhys quick enough, and yet she’d never moved so damned fast in her life, reaching him in half-a-tick to throw her arms around his thick neck. He snatched her off her tip-toes, gripping her hips with his long fingers, wrapping her around his hard body.

  Their mouths fused and their tongues battled for supremacy as her hands roamed over the muscled landscape.

  Sculpted, broad chest. Hard, tattooed arms. Solid, strong shoulders. Rippled, arching back.

  Was he real? Could Rhys real y be there, in her arms, firm body pressed against hers, dominating her with his presence? Was she delusional?

  She had to be.

  As his hands traveled north to cup her breasts, rubbing his thumb over her tight nipples, she decided she didn’t care. If she was crazy, then pack her bags and commit her to the nearest nuthouse where she’d happily live out her days.

  You’re not crazy. I’m here, touching you, holding you.

  She heard his voice in her head as his mouth continued to take hers. It was a total possession. He consumed al her senses.

  Breaking away for a breath, her lips skittered to the side to drag his earlobe between her teeth.

  A growl rumbled in his chest. And now, I’m going to have you.

  She whimpered a wordless assent as his tongue trailed across her neck.

  Jesus, you taste so damned good.

  “Bedroom. Now. Behind you.” Her commands came out on choppy breaths as she dropped to her feet, tugging his tee shirt up and away.

  She began yanking her own shirt off as his hands gripped her hips, backing her into the darkened bedroom. When they passed through the doorframe, she slapped at the light switch, the dim bedside lamps coming to life.

  Rhys looked at her curiously, a smile playing at the corners of his delicious mouth.

  “I want to see you,” she said, giving him a light shove towards the bed.

  His beautiful blue eyes burned with desire as he let her take control. “Shit. That’s soooo hot.”

  Giving a throaty chuckle, she moved in, tracing her fingers around the designs inked into his skin as they trailed down.

  Down. She lifted to her toes, nipping his lower lip as she fondled his erection through his jeans. She dragged the heel of her hand across him, caressing him, owning him.

  He was hers.

  In a flash the roles reversed and Addison found herself flying onto the bed, a six-foot-two giant launching after her.

  She squealed in delight as she rol ed to the side, but was caught around the waist by one very determined man.

  With pul and a tug her pants and underwear were a thing of the past. With a flick of his fingers, her bra was history.

  His mouth slammed into hers and their tongues dueled it out, exploring and slicking together. Her fingers dug into this spiky black hair as he wiggled out of his jeans and boxer briefs, cursing lightly inside her head as he tried to rush but not lose contact while doing so.

  When he was final y free of the restricting denim, his hands flew up to squeeze her ful breasts. He ground his hips into hers. She gasped, arching into him, her body undulating under his, eager for him to take her.

  He broke off the kiss to dip his head down, his lips encasing her stiff nipple in a wet warmth.

  Fierce in his possession, but gentle enough in his touch, he licked, sucked, nipped and tugged, first one side and then the other. The man was the perfect mix of loving and tender, primal and viral.

  And skil ed. Oh, he was skil ed.

  She couldn’t take it anymore. Her body thrummed with the urgency of her passion, her bel y in tight knots of need. She squeezed her eyes closed and reached out to him in her mind, mental y running her mouth down the length of his body to where he’d want her the most. A flick of her tongue had him physical y seizing and a slow, wet caress had him moaning out loud.

  Rhys grabbed her shoulders to line up their bodies, and roared as he thrust inside. Her body sang in raw pleasure.

  Their eyes locked for an instant before he buried his face in her hair, a litany of curses whispering in her ear as he rocked them towards a blissful oblivion.

  He hooked her leg under his arm as he sought out the deepest recesses of her body, and she gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life as every molecule in her being threatened to go nuclear. She locked down around him as her world shattered, and he fol owed soon after, his neck straining, head thrown back.

  Rhys’ weight col apsed on top of her, but he quickly shifted to the side to cradle her in his arms. She pressed her mouth to his throat, and felt his thundering pulse under her lips. She smiled with satisfaction, knowing she was the cause.

  She did that.

  That you did, baby.

  They snuggled in and let their breathing slow, languidly dozing as their bodies recovered. It wasn’t until Addison could form more than a solitary coherent thought that she final y began to stir. And once those thoughts got going, they coalesced, one linking right into another.

  She wrapped herself tighter around Rhys’ side, tangling their legs and arms together.

  “Rhys?”

/>   “M’hmm.”

  She smiled at his satiated tone, cuddled closer. “What happened? You’re…alive?”

  “Yeah, baby. I’m alive.” He trailed his fingertips up and down her back. “That pul ing sensation I felt…that was my body.”

  She gasped. Al this time he’d been alive?

  “Yup,” he said, answering the unspoken question in her thoughts.

  That was going to take some getting used to.

  He chuckled. “I was inside you during my death, and now, in life. We are as connected as we ever were, sweetheart.” His thoughts sobered and she sensed the wariness. “Are you okay with that?”

  Angling her head up, she kissed his jaw and let him feel every ounce of her love. “I’d have it no other way. I can’t believe I get the best of both worlds. With you.” He tipped his head down and took her mouth. His lips commanded her ful attention and her body sparked in response.

  “Whoa. Wait.” She was going to get some answers first.

  He laughed, pul ing her against his chest, and resumed stroking a lazy trail across her spine.

  “Al right. Let me start at the beginning.

  “After the plane crashed, I crawled out of the wreckage into some wooded area. I wandered a bit trying to get steady on my feet, and the last thing I fucking remember is seeing the ground rise up to met me. Everything went ass-end dark after that.

  “Next thing I know, I’m looking at you in the afterlife, or wherever. I latched on and you know the rest.”

  “And when you woke up?” she asked.

  “I woke up in a hospital in Australia. And I was perfectly fine.

  Apparently I was in a coma the entire time I’d been there, but other than some light trauma which I’d healed from by that point, there wasn’t one goddamned thing wrong with me.” He laughed good-heartedly. “You should’ve seen them. The doctors, I mean. I was their little medical mystery.

  There was no reason for me to stay in a coma, and what’s more, my muscles didn’t atrophy and my brain activity rarely slowed. My body was functioning as if I were living a normal, healthy life. They fucking freaked when I woke up.” She smiled at the humor in his voice, and then saw images of what he had seen when he came to—Rhys ripping off little suction cup things hooking him to monitors, sliding out the IV