Tiger Bound Read online

  Deja pushed to stand. He made a noise of disapproval and pulled her onto his lap. They held each other for long moments until she said, “That’s why you keep pushing me away one minute and pulling me closer the next, isn’t it? You think I’m going to die.”

  “No!”

  “But you feel like we can’t be together because of this situation and what happened to me.”

  “Deja, this isn’t the time to talk about our relationship.”

  “Then when will it be time? I sure want to know.”

  He compressed his lips into a straight line and put her on the bed. “Get some rest. I’m going to go and pick up some cell phones for us. I think it’s time we can communicate with each other when we’re apart.” He glared at her. “Although you will be by my side at all times, right?”

  She shrugged. “Not like you take me with you to the store—ever.”

  He sighed, took the key card, and left the room. Only after he’d left did she realize she never told him about Dr. Gail Holmes’ apparent suicide.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Deja sat in the passenger seat beside Heath and curled her feet under the blanket he’d placed over her. He had turned the heat up sky high and must be sweating like an animal, but she just started feeling more comfortable. She hated this. She needed to get better. There had to be some way or someone out there in the world who could help her—help them. Here they were rolling into yet another small town with no firm destination in mind. When she grilled him, Heath admitted that his plan was to keep moving for now until he figured out what to do. He didn’t trust anyone. They never stayed in one place long.

  She stared out the window, too tired to continue making suggestions. Even while she told herself not to, her mind threw out descriptions of everything she saw—hardware store, convenience store, library, hair salon. Wait, a library might be useful. She knew most allowed access to the internet, and she could do a search on Google for any information on Spiderweb. Then all the movies she’d seen in the past about people being tracked by their searches came to mind. What if she could do it without the organization knowing she searched for them? Was it possible?

  “Hey, Heath, there’s a hotel.”

  He shook his head. “Remember, we have to stay at the less discriminating places.”

  She sighed. “I’m so over those. It’s because they don’t care if we have ID, right?” Rather than continue to complain, she clamped her teeth together. Whining about their situation would help nothing, and it would remind him of whose fault it was they were in this predicament in the first place. If she could gather information from the internet and find someone to help, he might forgive her and stop pushing her away. Then if she really was dying, they could spend what was left of her life together, if not happy, at least companionable. Or I could leave and die on my own so he doesn’t have to see me waste away. Damn it, I’m not that brave—or selfless. She would do this, the least she could do, and see where it took them.

  When they found a place at last, which turned out to be a room rented from an old lady who needed the money, Heath left her to run errands and get food. She figured he also cased the town to be sure there were no Spiderweb operatives lurking about. She’d asked him how he could tell, and he admitted to learning to call forward the tiger a bit better. He smelled fear and nervousness by something secreted through the skin, and he heard a sudden increase in heart rate.

  “Well you know, if it’s a woman, the heartbeat thing could be because you’re hot, right?” she’d teased.

  He’d given her a blank stare, and she laughed.

  When she was sure he was out of the general area, she pulled the bottle of pain pills from the bag he carried for her and popped a few in her mouth. Two were a joke, and if she intended to make it down the street to the library she’d seen, then she needed all the help she could get. The lucky break was, today was a stronger day healthwise than normal. Afterward, she would probably be wrung out to dry, but for now, her determination and confidence soared.

  A short while later, she arrived at the library winded but alert. She arranged to use the computer and sat down at it, thankful there was no waiting line. Then again, being the middle of the day, most people were at work. After bringing up the Google homepage, she paused. How could she do this without using the name Spiderweb? For all she knew, the organization might have a supercomputer set up somewhere with twenty-four-seven surveillance on watching for their name. Then again, maybe she was overthinking this. Many people must be searching for spider and web all over the world. She refused to take the risk and typed in, “Anyone know information about an arachnid corporation?” Pages of websites came up in the list, but none relevant. She varied her wording several times and sat back in frustration. Maybe this whole idea was a bad one after all.

  One more try with “spider biz” brought up entries for extermination, and she grumbled but half-heartedly scrolled through the information. On page four, her heart beat faster at the entry. Someone had created a Craigslist ad, and in clicking the link, she discovered they updated it recently.

  Deja glanced over the computer screen and scanned the library. One or two people wandered among the shelves, and the librarian at the information desk had nodded off with a book in her hand. She stared at the screen. Did she even dare? What if it was a trap? What if someone at Spiderweb put up the ad, waiting for them to let their guard down? Damn it, she had to take a chance. What was the point of living if they lived like this, on the run, and imprisoned in motel rooms like criminals?

  Taking a deep breath, she flipped to a new window and created a Gmail account. When she had that set up, she went back to the ad and answered. “Need help with information on arachnid biz. Can you help me?” Her hand shook when she pressed the send button. She then set up the cell phone Heath gave her to receive notifications from the email account. Now all she could do was wait.

  “Deja!”

  She jumped a foot from the chair and spun around. When she pitched forward, Heath caught her and waited until she got her balance and then stepped back to glare at her.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  She put her hands on her hips. “I wasn’t aware I had a curfew, Daddy.”

  “Don’t hand me that. You know this is serious, Deja. Why did you leave the room?”

  A million thoughts passed through her mind to complain about, but she let them go. “I was just checking the news.”

  He eyed her in disbelief.

  “Did you know about the doctor’s death? The woman who experimented on me?”

  Heath’s eyes widened. “Dr. Gail Holmes?”

  She nodded. “They announced it on national TV that she committed suicide in her apartment.”

  Heath glanced around and took her arm. She shuffled along beside him a few paces, trying to keep up with his long stride. He slowed down and then stopped in the lobby. “Stay here while I get the car.”

  “I can walk.”

  He ignored her and headed outside. She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest to wait. The man was determined to treat her like an invalid, and no matter how she fought it, she felt like she would never win. Just the effort alone exhausted her.

  Soon he drove up, and she got in the car for them to drive a block and a half down the street. Deja shook her head and stepped out to walk up to the room they rented. Heath moved ahead to unlock the door and took her arm to lead her. She jerked her arm away and stomped inside, but then curbed it because it wore on her strength. She cursed that too.

  When she dropped into a chair and drew her legs up to stare out the window, she heard him walk up behind her. “Do you want tea and a sandwich? I bought some groceries.”

  “No, damn it. I don’t.”

  “Deja—”

  “I want to go to dinner. I want to dress up and get out of the room for a change. You get to go whenever you like, and I can’t. This is the first day I’m feeling a little better and you should be happy about it, but instead y
ou act like I did something wrong. I’m over it, Heath. You hear me? I’m over it!”

  He reached for her, but she slapped his hand away. He moved up behind her and encircled her in his arms. “I understand, and I’m sorry, Deja.”

  She pressed her lips together, sniffing even though her eyes were dry. “You don’t get it.”

  “I promise I do.” His voice dropped down low as he rested his cheek next to hers.

  She hated how her belly fluttered, not from illness, but from his nearness. She wanted to give into him and love him. Having his arms around her meant everything, but she had to stay strong.

  “Don’t you think it’s suspicious the way they put it out there that Dr. Holmes died when we’re no longer in Las Vegas?”

  “Of course. I thought of that,” she snapped.

  “And don’t you think they have some way planned to trap us?”

  She stiffened, thinking of her plan. At any moment, she might get a beep on her phone indicating she had a response to her answering the Craigslist ad. If Heath found out about it before she knew if it would pan out to be anything, she was screwed. Hell, she might be screwed either way.

  “I get it, okay?” She wiggled out of his hold and stood up to face him. “But get this, buddy. I’m going to dinner tonight. I’m going to walk into a nice restaurant, grab a table, and I’m going to have a glass of wine. Then I’m having a steak or maybe spaghetti. I don’t know, but I’m having it, not that frozen dinner you brought from who knows where.”

  She knew as the last words left her mouth that she hurt his feelings, but being a man, he didn’t let it show. He spun away and strode to the bags he left on the table. He picked one up and tossed it into the trash.

  “Heath.” He opened the door, and she hurried after him. “Where are you going?”

  He paused long enough to answer. “You said you wanted dinner out, didn’t you? I’m going to get you something nice to wear.”

  Deja put a hand up to her mouth and watched him go. She turned back into the room, guilty for being so mean to him, but excited too. He’d listened to her and was taking her out. With a gleeful squeak, she hurried to undress and jump in the shower. The room came with its own private bath, a convenient amenity so they didn’t need to go out into the rest of the house. Instead, stairs led up from the street to the second level to enter the room. A second door off the bedroom led to the bathroom. Another one stood at the opposite end of the bathroom, but they’d been told it would remain locked while they stayed.

  Deja ran the shower and took the gel Heath provided with her. The hope that started from answering the ad increased all the more with her continued stabilizing health and now the date. After squeezing gel into her loofah, she worked it in her palm until the suds started and then ran it over her skin. What would Heath bring her to wear, a dress? Slacks? No matter, it had to be better than the jeans and T-shirt she’d lived and breathed in for what felt like years.

  When she stepped out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a towel, and then stood in front of the mirror trying to think of something to do with her hair. Heath had bought her a comb and brush after her meltdown over her hair the last time. She used them, along with a few products she had, to rework a few of her braids. Pulled into a high chignon was the best she could do, but at least it glistened from being freshly washed and greased. Since she had no makeup, she didn’t bother with it, but dressed up her face with large hoop earrings, another item Heath had spotted in a convenience store and bought her. They were cheap as hell, but she had to give him credit for thinking about her.

  Coming out of the bathroom, she wondered if she had been too hard on him. Heath tried. He really did, and she wasn’t sure if she’d shown him her appreciation or if she acted like another voice in his head, tugging him her way. He never spoke about his father and what he felt. She didn’t know if he accepted what he was or even if it hurt to change. She vowed to ask him all that and to just listen tonight at dinner.

  Sometime later, when she lay across the bed trying to rest up just in case her health turned for the worse again, Heath came back. He laid a bag on the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. The shower came on, and she wondered if it was okay to take a peek into what he bought.

  When the plastic rattled, he stuck his head out with a frown. “Mind your business.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I think my business is whatever you got me to wear.”

  “Just wait.” His gaze shifted to her hair. “It looks good.” She opened her mouth to thank him, but he disappeared, and she sighed in frustration. Was he angry, hurt, or what?

  She climbed off the bed and rummaged through the bags. Inside one was a white bra-top dress that crossed in the front. From the look of it, the outfit would be body-hugging, and it would extend to mid-thigh. She checked the tag and grinned, knowing it would be a good fit. Red sling-backs that were not too high completed the ensemble, and she laid them on the bed and dropped her towel to the floor.

  Heath chose that moment to step out of the bathroom, and she froze. “I told you to wait.”

  “I don’t do well with orders,” she sassed him with a smirk.

  He approached her, his gaze locked on her face, and she waited to see just how long he’d resist at the least a sweeping glance at her goodies. He stopped in front of her, and she noted the towel around his waist. She considered whether she wanted to snatch it off. She had no such qualms about seeing what he had to offer. She’d seen it before and loved it. In fact, her pussy gushed just thinking about getting it, but when Heath pulled in a sharp sniff, she looked up at him. His nostrils flared, and he narrowed his eyes as if angry at her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Deja chewed her lip. “How did you find me at the library?”

  He pretended to be absorbed with removing from the bag the collared shirt and dark slacks he would wear. “I scented you.”

  “Scented?”

  “Yes, I can pick up scents that I’m familiar with for miles off.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, cool, like a bloodhound.”

  “I’m not a hound, Deja.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Kitty.” She reached for the knot in his towel. “So you want to…”

  He covered her hand. “You’re feeling well now, but there’s no telling when you’ll feel weak again.”

  “You’re rejecting me.”

  “I’m not rejecting you.”

  “You’re talking in this deadpan way, not elaborating, not looking at me. Do I offend you, Heath?” Damn, she didn’t mean to get into another argument with him. What she’d intended when he got out of the bathroom was to apologize for her harsh words and to tell him how much she appreciated him taking care of her. “How did you get all this stuff? I know you can’t use your bank cards because we can be traced that way.”

  “I actually did use a card, one I’ve had for years that’s under an assumed name. I never said so, but Tate gave it to me. He said it was just in case, and he made the excuse that he’d watched too many Enemy of the State type movies and felt it was necessary.”

  “But they took your wallet.”

  He nodded. “I just walked into a bank and gave the information needed to replace the card. They had my signature—the assumed one—and other pertinent information Tate drilled it into me.”

  She stared at him in awe. “You took a lot of what he said at surface value.”

  “He was all I had.”

  The sadness in his gaze tore at her heart, partly because she didn’t like seeing him hurting and knew the pain of losing Tate mingled with Heath’s sense of betrayal from the man. Worse was that Heath still didn’t view her as family, or he refused to.

  “You said you wanted to go to dinner. We should get dressed. I imagine in a small town, the restaurants don’t stay open late.”

  She turned to the dress and held it up. A need to be daring, and to pay him back for keeping her at arm’s length, made her slip into it and ignore the panti
es he’d provided. The style of the dress already prohibited the use of a bra if one didn’t have pasties, which she didn’t. At least it would hoist the girls up. From the corner of her eye, she saw him look at the panties and go still like he waited for her to put them on, but she bent to pull on her shoes then straightened.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Don’t you want to…”

  She cast him an innocent look. “Want to what?”

  She pretended not to see the towel tent in the front. “Nothing.” He turned away and dressed quickly. “Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  The restaurant was a cute family one without the genuine ambiance she hoped for, but it would do. The tables had alternating red and white tablecloths and flickering flameless lights as the centerpieces. Heath pulled her chair out for her, and Deja smoothed her dress down to take her seat. She smiled at the waiter who approached, and bit off a chuckle when Heath glared at him. Deja reviewed the menu in a few moments and selected what she wanted to eat. The sooner the waiter left to fulfill their order, the sooner she could talk to Heath.

  Her conversation with him would be twofold—to get him to admit to her how he was taking this whole shifter thing in hopes she could help him to accept what he was and learn to be happy again, but also, she needed to know what he planned to do next. If they stayed on the road any longer, she would go stir crazy.

  “This is nice,” she murmured. “Thank you for bringing me.”

  He gave a short nod and scanned the room. The obvious alertness in his shoulders and intensity in his gaze told her she needed to try harder to make him relax. From what she’d seen, the other patrons in the restaurant consisted of a few families and two or three couples on dates like them. There was no one odd, in her opinion, no weird men in suits with operative written all over their bearings. Then again, Spiderweb was smarter than that. Something told her if they were here, though, they would have already grabbed the two of them.