Beneath the Stars (Falling Stars #4) - A.L. Jackson Page 0,22

the house was a legacy in itself.

The bands who’d recorded here were legends.

Royce squeezed my hand again, the man so rough and tender in his care. “Okay…just…call me if you need me.”

“Thank you,” I told him.

He hesitated for a second. I angled my head, urging him to go. Then he spun on his heel and started for his wife, glancing back at me once. I gave him a small, reassuring wave, and then he seemed to fully give, his demeanor shifting as he moved across the room to edge in behind Emily. He wrapped her in his arms and smothered her neck with kisses from behind.

Before I lost my nerve, I ducked out the doors and into the night. Outside, the thick, unrelenting heat of the Georgia summer was in full swing.

The only relief was the slight breeze that gathered on the sea and billowed across the sand.

Above, the sky was a blackened canvas that seemed to be painted into forever, the stars infinite, the stretch of the ocean just as black where it glittered and churned beneath.

I could almost hear the dark waters calling out their claim.

It was like they whispered seduction. Temptation. Enticing me to dip in my toes when I was sure of the danger.

That great big ocean would swallow me whole as I searched for a shimmery, shiny stone fascinating me from the abyss of its depths.

Sweat beaded my nape.

I felt flushed.

Hot.

Fear and uncertainty knocked my knees and the thunder in my heart propelled me forward.

I eased deeper into the darkness, and from the edge of the deck, I peered out onto the shore that I could barely make out beneath the nearly nonexistent moon.

When I saw nothing, I moved down the steps and onto the boardwalk that led to the beach. My heels clicked on the wood, and I bent over to work them free of my feet. I nudged them aside, and then crept to the end of the wood and stepped onto the cool sand.

“Rhys?” I realized I whispered it. Calling to him silently.

The wind echoed back.

I started in the direction of the ocean, my feet sinking deep as I trudged toward the shore.

Slowly.

Carefully.

A shiver of something moved through the air.

I froze, held in apprehension. Warily, I peered over my shoulder as I was hit with an unwarranted rush of foreboding.

Alarm compressed my ribs, and my pulse slugged harder.

I squinted into the nothingness.

God.

I had to get over this.

Stop imagining someone was watching me at every turn.

Something sinister.

Something vile.

I gathered myself and moved closer to the water.

“Rhys?” I called, this time louder, searching the line of the sea.

Why was I doing this? Trying to hunt down a man who clearly didn’t want to be found?

“Rhys!” I shouted again. The sound barely broke over the crashing waves.

Shit.

I turned, my attention moving for the house lit up in the distance.

This was crazy.

I needed to stop getting myself into situations where I didn’t belong. Blowing out a sigh, I started back in the direction of the house, deciding I needed to give him space. He’d slinked out to find it, hadn’t he?

A smart girl would respect that.

I lumbered up the soft sand on my bare feet. I was halfway to the boardwalk when a sound stopped me in my tracks. A shiver tumbled down my spine. But this? It was a different sort of apprehension. A different kind of fear.

Shifting course, I moved up along the dunes that ran the high side of the beach.

Tall grasses grew over them, waving and thrashing in the night.

I kicked up sand as I stumbled over one and then another.

With each step, a desperation grew.

A panic seeded in the reminder of what had been in his expression before he’d slipped out.

Horror.

Hurt.

I fumbled over another dune, and then I gasped when I came upon a dark silhouette lying in the sand.

Facedown.

Worry slammed me.

I couldn’t tell if he’d been knocked out or had passed out.

All I knew was his big, intimidating body was shaking.

Shaking and shaking.

Bone deep.

I saw the bottle he’d snagged from the kitchen was tipped on its side.

Empty.

Clearly, it had found its home in the pit of his belly.

Definitely passed out.

“Rhys.”

A moan reverberated from his being.

Beside him, I sank to my knees. My hand was quivering like mad when I tentatively reached out and ran my fingers through the longer pieces of his hair.

Energy crackled.

Sparked and shivered.

Crap. Why did he have to affect me this way?

This man wasn’t close to being safe.

It didn’t matter because I leaned closer, my words softened