Page 19 of Denied

He took the blade from his boot again, set the tip in the keyhole, and forced it down with his considerable weight. Metal snapped and cracked and, when he gave the dagger a savage twist, the lock popped open. Jannon unwound the chains binding her, tossing them aside before standing and offering her his hand.

“Come, we will go together to Ryan.”

Tara wobbled as she stood, and then stumbled into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

The feel of her fragile form against him made Jannon wonder if he dared hope to someday make her his. He would have to wait until she was stronger. She would have to want him enough to offer herself. After what that sodding brother of hers had done, it might be a long time. Still, he could wait until she was ready. He wanted her no other way but willing.

“Let me grab my shoes,” Tara said, slipping away to bend down to the pile of blankets, but she lost her footing.

Jannon reached to steady her, and didn’t see the chain she flung at him until it wrapped around his neck. She used her shoulder to knock him off balance, and then straightened as he toppled onto his back.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she wrapped another chain around her hand.

He had time to call out for the guard before she clouted him, but Jannon could only watch as she knelt beside him.

“I love you,” he told her, hoping that would stop her.

It didn’t.

CHAPTER 11

HABIT KEPT KAYLA glancing in the rear view mirror. Or maybe it was the familiar surroundings.

“Everything is so green down here,” Christine said, gazing out the passenger window. “Look at those orange trees.” She gave Kayla a conspiratorial look. “Can we stop and grab some?”

“Sure. We can get shot for trespassing and thieving, too.” Kayla turned to enter the parking lot of a supermarket and found an empty space. “I used to steal fruit when I was a kid, until a grove owner caught me in the act.” She pinched the air. “Came this close to getting a rump full of rock salt.”

“Ouch. Your farmers are mean.” Christine climbed out and pulled off her jacket, tossing it on the seat. “Whew, it’s hot. Is there a mall nearby? I could use a few more tank tops and some shorts.”

“No mall, but there’s a Target down the road.” As they walked in and grabbed a buggy, Kayla noticed a dark blotch on Christine’s left shoulder. “How did you get that bruise?”

The dancer tucked in her chin to look at the spot. “Oh, that? It’s just an ugly old birthmark.”

As they shopped, Kayla kept glancing at the blemish, with the growing feeling that it looked familiar. She put a hand on Christine’s arm.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Kayla took a closer look. “Did you show this to me before?”

“I doubt it, since I hate the damn thing. I got my first tattoo just to cover it up. The guy did a tribal turtle doodad.” They’d stopped in the produce section, and Christine picked up a bunch of organic bananas. “The things we think are cool when we’re sixteen. I kinda owe that dragon for scorching off all my ink.”

Suddenly Kayla dimly recalled seeing it on a much smaller shoulder.

“Okay, this is really weird. Tara had a birthmark just like that, in the exact same place.”

“Great, another reason to hate it,” Christine said, then her brows drew together. “You said she had one. Did she get a tattoo over it?”

Kayla shook her head. “It disappeared. My dad said sometimes birthmarks faded, but I’m pretty sure one night it was there, and the next it wasn’t.” She thought hard for a moment. “The only reason I remember is because it was the day after my mother left us. When the Blackstones left Tara at our house in Ashdale.”

“You mean– ” Christine laughed. “Oh, no, honey. Lots of babies have birthmarks.”

“That drunk at the strip club thought we were twins.” As she studied the dancer’s face, hope fluttered in Kayla’s chest. “You weren’t wearing any makeup that night.” Kayla paused and deflated a little. “The only problem is that you’re a little too old to be my sister.”

“I don’t know how old I am,” Christine said and made a face. “No birth certificate, so no birthday. They guessed I was about two and a half. But I was always smaller than the other kids, and I didn’t have boobs until I was in the tenth grade.”

“We need to compare notes,” Kayla said, grabbing her arm. She glanced around and saw the market had a small café area by the bakery. “Let’s go get a cupcake or something.”

Christine pushed the buggy in that direction. “Do they make them with rum?”

Once they sat down with coffees and a pair of jumbo muffins, Kayla felt almost afraid to start asking her friend more questions.