Unbearable Fear Page 4

  “That’s a phone? It’s a little Fred Flintstone, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t who Fred Flintstone is, but I can assure you, it’s far superior than any smart phone.”

  She rolled her eyes and sipped her wine.

  The palm-sized phone wasn’t a phone, but a telicator powerful enough to contact the Intrepid. He quickly reprogrammed it, so she couldn’t reach the ship. Captain Tash would be less than pleased if he were to receive a message from a hysterical female.

  He handed her the telicator.

  She frowned. “Where’s the keypad?”

  “It doesn’t have one.”

  She lifted a slender brow as if it were a toy.

  “The phone is voice-activated. All you have to do is say the person’s number and it remembers.”

  She sighed heavily and placed the telicator down on her lap. “So, how is this going to keep Hector from contacting me?”

  “Unless you’ve put the number in the phone, it won’t respond, no matter the device Hector uses. No one can call you unless you approve them. You also don’t have to worry about wifi, roaming charges, no matter where you’re at, you’ll have service.”

  “How?” Her gazed locked with his, and in that moment, Walfea sensed the fear, the desperation, behind her flippant behavior.

  He wanted to take her in his arms and whisper that she was safe, but she didn’t trust him.

  Not yet.

  He grinned. “Superior technology.”

  “Yeah, right.” She examined the telicator closer. “Who makes this? I’ve never seen such strange markings.”

  Heat swished up his face, and his palms turned sweaty. Shit, the Arian bear swipe was on the back of the telicator. He’d forgotten to erase it. Tash would be pissed.

  He had to think fast and forced himself to remain calm. He shrugged. “It was originally an iPhone, but I did some modifications.”

  “You did this?” She raised the telicator.

  “Yes.” Not true, but he couldn’t tell her that the telicator was issued by the United Planet Confederation. The Arians had engraved them with their planet emblem. The United Planet Confederation’s prime objective was that no member of the Confederation could interfere with developing solar systems or planets. Telling Skye about the telicator, clearly violated the prime objective.

  “Okay, fine. I’ll try your little phone. However, if Hector finds me…” She stuck the telicator in the robe’s pocket.

  “I owe you a new smartphone.” He took a sip of his wine. “Deal.”

  “Deal.”

  “Your color’s better. You don’t look like you’ve seen the devil himself.”

  “I feel better.” She gently stood, putting all her weight on one foot. “Thank you for the wine.” She patted her pocket with the telicator. “And for the phone.”

  “So, you plan on hopping all the way back?”

  She took a step and grimaced. “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “Stubborn.”

  “I’m not stubborn. I’m getting cold.” She gestured toward the forest.. “I’m in the mountains, not the beach.”

  She hopped and slowly moved to the edge of the deck.

  “You’re going to hurt yourself.” He lifted her into his arms.

  “Walfea!”

  “Just let me take you back to your house.”

  She shivered and gripped the robe tighter. “Just drop me at the front door. I’ll be fine.”

  “I think you need to see a doctor.” She was a human, and he wasn’t sure how badly her ankle was hurt. An Arian would easily heal.

  “No…”

  “I’m not going to take no for an answer. Get dressed and I’ll drive you.”

  She glared. “It will be a waste of time.”

  He shrugged. “Humor me. I gave you a superior phone.”

  “After you broke mine.” Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her, but it definitely meant he wasn’t off the hook.

  Obviously, acting like the chief security bear wasn’t working. “Please, let me take you to the doctor.” He held his breath.

  She didn’t answer until they reached the porch. “Fine, but it’s a waste of time.”

  A couple of hours later, Walfea held the emergency room door open for Skye. He had to bite back a I-told-you-so retort.

  “Don’t say anything!” Skye whooshed past him on crutches and hurried toward the parking lot. One crutch slid to the right and she fumbled, but quickly recovered.

  He lopped next to her. “You’re going to hurt yourself again if you don’t slow down on those things.”

  She puffed, moving her hair out of her face. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. Let me pick you up.”

  Her eyes glanced over at his, burning with a thousand laser threats, all which vowed irreparable harm. “Don’t you dare.”

  He stepped in front of her and went into security bear mode, arms cross his chest. “I won’t if…”

  “Fine. I’ll slow down.”

  Walfea allowed her to pass. “Why are you so pissed?”

  She stopped and tossed her head back. “Because I don’t ever want to be vulnerable again.” Her voice trembled.

  She turned her head, her hair hiding her face. He gave her a moment. A sniff put him at a loss on what to do. Flesh-eating aliens he knew how to handle, but a woman crying, he wanted to flee.

  He reached over to rub her back, but at the last minute, slammed his arm next to his side. Skye took a long deep breath and then lifted her head. Her eyes glistened, and her cheeks were wet.

  Crap, he should have rubbed her back. Say something.

  But he stared at his muddy boots.

  “I’m sorry. I’m usually not this weepy.” She gave him a sad smile. “But I’m afraid of never getting my life back.”

  Words wormed into his tight throat. “I swear to you I’ll get your life back for you.”

  “That’s just it, Walfea. You can’t get my life back. Only I can do it, but I don’t know how.” Her soft voice speared his heart.

  He blinked. He’d expected her to stand behind him and allow him to defeat Hector, but she wasn’t that kind of woman. He should have known. The Shades never would have given him a shrinking violet.

  “What have you done to protect yourself from Hector?”

  “You know the usual–a restraining order, an alarm system, unlisted number.”

  “None of these things worked?” Earth had such poor security methods. It was like humans had never gotten out of the Dark Ages.

  “Obviously.”

  “Have you ever learned hand-to-hand combat techniques?”

  She curled her lip back. “Hector’s your size. There’s no way I could protect myself.”

  “Even someone as petite as you could flip someone as big as me. Hector’s a bully and will continue to harass you as long as he thinks he can get away with it.”

  “Oh, really? Like I didn’t know that.”

  The bonding moment–gone.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch, but my ankle’s killing me, and I just want to go back to the cabin.” She didn’t wait for him to answer and headed for his truck.

  He clicked the keyless remote. She hopped backward and then leaned the pair of crutches against the side of his truck. She opened the door and bit her lip.

  “Can I help you?”

  “No, I can do it.” She put her hand on the passenger seat and the other on the door handle.

  He folded his arms and waited.

  Skye lifted her body slightly off the ground, but she couldn’t get her foot on the running board. The crutches fell against her.

  She shook her head, her red hair flying around her. “Shit!”

  He stepped behind her, inhaling her sexy scent. She was sweating, which only made her more desirable. He nuzzled her ear. “Will you let me help you now?”

  She panted. “No…I can…do this.”

  She tried again. Her arms were trembling.
She rose a few inches off the ground, but when she put her foot on the running board, her foot slipped.

  She cried out.

  He easily caught her and lifted her onto the seat. He grabbed her crutches and handed them to her.

  A glisten of sweat was on her forehead. “Thank you,” she mumbled, but she couldn’t hide the defeat in her voice.

  “You’re welcome. When we get back, school starts.”

  She wiped the seat off her forehead. “What?”

  He shut the door. His mate needed help in regaining her confidence; learning some Arian moves would be the first step.

  When he got inside the cab, Skye’s eyebrows furrowed. “What did you mean by school starts?”

  He started the truck. “You’ll see.”

  She turned and looked out the window. He flipped on the radio to kill the wall of silence between them.

  “I’m in no mood for school,” she murmured, as he pulled into the pebbled driveway.

  He shifted and faced her. “Do you want to get your life back?” His voice was harsher than he intended.

  The same fiery defiance flickered in her eyes. “Of course, I do.”

  “What you’ve been doing hasn’t been working, so you need to try something different. Do you agree?”

  “I’m doing something. I’m living here.”

  “No, you’re hiding.”

  Her cheeks turned five shades of pink and she lowered her gaze. “This wasn’t by choice.”

  He clutched her shaking hand. “Skye, look at me.”

  She sniffed.

  “Please look at me.”

  She raised her head. Wetness reflected in those baby blue eyes. “So, you have all the answers?”

  He thought of Dech and Sutois. “No, I’m not going to say that I do, but I can teach you some things so you don’t have to live in fear. Will you trust me?”

  “Okay, but don’t expect me to turn into Black Widow.”

  He frowned. “Why would I turn you into a spider?”

  She blinked, then burst into heart-felt laugh. He couldn’t help but smile.

  “Black Widow isn’t a spider. She’s a super hero. Haven’t you ever heard of the Avengers?”

  He tried racking his brain, but after all his research on Earth, he never came across that name. “No, who are they? Why don’t they help you?”

  “If only they could. They’re comic book heroes turned into block buster movies.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “I guess I don’t get out much.”

  “I noticed that Sandra’s family has a whole slew of movies.” She patted his leg. “How about I fix you dinner after all that you’ve done for me?”

  His cock immediately turned hard and he sucked in his breath. “What about your training?” His voice wavered. Shades, this woman was testing his honor.

  “Walfea, I’m really tired with everything that has happened. Can’t we start tomorrow?”

  He broke into a hot sweat and hair bristled all over him. Ignoring his bear that demanded he seize Skye, he battled to draw on his wits.

  She squeezed his knee. “I’ll make spaghetti and meatballs. Sandra’s secret recipe.” Her sing-song tone broke his battle.

  “Fine. Training tomorrow. What time for dinner?”

  “How about seven?”

  “Seven, it is.”

  She opened the passenger door and snatched her crutches. He jumped out of the truck and ran around to help her, but she’d already managed to get down. By her pinched face, he figured she was still in pain. Couldn’t she wait for him to help her?

  “See, I could do this by myself.”

  He shook his head. “Stubborn wench.”

  She lifted her chin. “Not stubborn. Determined, independent, trail-blazer.”

  He grinned. “Like I said…Stubborn.”

  “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  She maneuvered up the path with her purse over one shoulder. Her red hair flaring down her back that drew his gaze to her ample ass. He’d love to squeeze it as he thrust his cock deep inside her.

  His bear growled, demanding he’d mate with her now.

  He tensed and pushed his animal back.

  No.

  She was right. She was determined and fiercely independent. Asking for help didn’t make her weak. He had the same problem. Fireworks were definitely in their future.

  Chapter 6

  Hector hid in Sandra Rotella’s bedroom. His friend had said that he was having dinner with her, giving him time to pick the lock to her apartment. Based on her mother, he thought she would have lavished herself with fine furniture, but it was surprisingly sparse.

  Her bedroom had a bed with a comforter, a dresser, and nothing else. No pictures decorated the walls. There wasn’t even a mirror. Skye’s closet had been stuffed with dresses, tops, pants, and sexy stage outfits. He’d barely been able to fit and had to shove her shoes against the other wall.

  But not Sandra.

  She barely had any shoes, and a third of her closet was empty, so he could wait comfortably.

  When he’d been in Skye’s closet, he’d been hot and miserable. When she finally opened the door, he was pissed. He smiled. She paid for his misery, but she fought hard. He liked her passion, her will to survive.

  The lights to the bedroom flicked on. He held his breath, excited by what Sandra would do when she opened the door. She shouldn’t have interfered.

  No one got between him and Skye.

  Sandra would soon learn the price.

  Just as he hoped, she opened the closet door. Her lavender eyes grew huge and she gasped. He lunged. He clutched her throat tight, turning a scream into a squeak. Her face turned blue and her eyes bulged. She clawed at his hands.

  “You shouldn’t have interfered, Sandra.”

  He easily lifted her off the floor.

  Her glasses slid off her face and crashed onto the carpet. She kicked her feet and wiggled her body.

  “Now, I’m going to have to teach you a lesson on what happens when you take something that’s mine.”

  He slammed her hard on the bed. He released her neck. She sputtered and scrambled to the other side.

  He snatched her hair and threw her face-down on the white comforter. He put his knee in the small of her back, pinning her there.

  “Please, don’t kill me.” Her suffocated voice mumbled.

  He leaned over. “I won’t kill you…unless you disappointment me.”

  She trembled. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, but it didn’t matter. She soon would be. They all cried.

  Even Skye.

  “Now that I have your attention, I want you to tell me where Skye is. For some reason, whenever I call, I get voicemail. I have a new number, so she shouldn’t know it’s me.” He gritted his teeth and squeezed the back of her throat tighter. “Or did you invent some new scientific technology that she would know it’s my number.”

  She clawed her fingers into the comforter as if she were desperate to breathe.

  “Answer me.”

  A pitiful yelp made him lessen the tension in his fingers.

  “I didn’t…I didn’t…invent anything.”

  “Then why can’t I get a hold of her?”

  “New phone…” She gasped and her fingers slowly relaxed.

  “Obviously.” He snagged her hair and yanked. “What’s her number?”

  “I don’t…I don’t know.”

  He twisted her hair tighter. “Don’t play games with me, bitch. You won’t like the outcome.”

  “I swear…No number…Voice activated.”

  What little scheme was his vixen up to now. “Where’s your phone?”

  “In my purse.”

  He yanked her off the bed and slammed her back against his chest. “Let’s go get it.”

  “It’s…in the kitchen…on the counter.”

  He forced her to move on her tippy-toes. It would be so damn easy to kill her, but for the moment, he needed the bitch.

  On the co
unter was a brown leather purse. He dragged her over there. “Get your phone.”

  She fumbled inside the purse and pulled out an iPhone.

  “Call her.”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “No?” He hadn’t expected the mouse to have a spine.

  “Leave her alone.”

  He stuck his face next to her ear. “Time for your first lesson.” He bent her over the arm of her sofa, pushing her face into the cushion.

  “Please.” Her kitten plea only annoyed him.

  He easily unbuckled his belt and slid it off his jeans. He’d lots of practice of doing this maneuver while holding a bitch with his other hand.

  “Scream and you’re dead.”

  He yanked up her dress and shoved down her panties.

  “No!” she cried.

  “I told you not to scream.”

  He smacked her hard with the belt across her smooth ass. Again and again and again. She trembled and sobbed beneath him. Soon, very soon, she’d do what he wanted.

  Chapter 7

  Fifteen more minutes and Walfea would walk through the door. What had she been thinking when she’d invited him to dinner? She didn’t want to give him the wrong message. Look what had happened with Hector. God, please don’t let this be repeating that history all over again. She couldn’t take it.

  The fragrant smell of tomatoes, garlic, and sausage made her think of home. She missed her grandpa’s fabulous cooking and his deep laughter.

  She’d hobbled over to stir the simmering tomato sauce and then put the pasta into the boiling water. She couldn’t stop shaking. Maybe she should cancel.

  But he’d done so much for her–except for smashing her phone. Definitely, something Hector would have done.

  She glanced at her new phone resting on the counter. There was something strange about the phone. Walfea claimed it had been an iPhone, but there wasn’t an apple on the back. Even if he had made modifications, there still would have been an apple engraving.

  Instead, there was strange lettering. She couldn’t find anything on the internet that matched those weird symbols. He said he made them up, but there was a hesitation in his voice, and she wasn’t sure he was telling the truth.

  The champagne-color metal weighed almost nothing. Smart phones were becoming lighter, but not literally as light as a feather. She’d been able to contact everyone by just reciting their number. Yes, all phones do this, but he’d claimed she’d never have to worry about service.