The Missing

coffee wasn’t too much work now. Especially now that she was freezing her ass off. She tucked the towel around her body and headed into the kitchen, kicking her boots out of the way. She’d pick them up later. Once she had rested, the whole house needed to be cleaned. It was dusty from her long absence and had that musty smell houses got after sitting empty for weeks or months on end.

    She got the coffee brewing and stood shivering in the kitchen as she waited for her first shot of caffeine. Hot coffee splattered on the warming plate and counter as she pulled the carafe out and filled her cup. Folding her hands around it, she let the heat seep into her palms while she took a sip. It scalded her tongue, but she didn’t care. She finished off the first cup and poured herself a second before she bothered to get dressed.

    As Taige shimmied into a pair of shorts and a tank top, she heard the annoying ring of her cell phone out in the kitchen. She knew that particular ring, and she blocked it out of her mind. There was no damn way she was talking to Taylor Jones anytime soon.

    Never would suit her just fine.

    By her third cup of coffee, Taige figured she was awake enough to sit down, maybe watch some TV or try a book. She picked up a trade paperback she’d grabbed on impulse at the airport in Birmingham, but instead of curling up on the couch, she headed out to the hammock in the backyard. She could read for a while, then maybe get some housework done.

    If she worked hard enough at that, did it long enough, she could exhaust herself to the point that the dreams wouldn’t come. It was either that or dig out the merlot.

    Taige was getting damn tired of drinking herself into oblivion.

    With caffeine buzzing through her system, she settled down on the hammock. But she hadn’t even made it past the first chapter before fatigue came crashing down on her. Her mind started to wander away from the story, daydreams intruding on reality, and she never realized she was drifting off.

    The caffeine in her system, the cold shower, none of her attempts to stay awake made a bit of difference under the weight of her exhaustion. She fell asleep with the midmorning sun shining hot on her face, and when the book slid from her slack hands and hit the ground, she didn’t notice.

    “You push yourself too hard,” he murmured as he leaned down and pushed a few wayward strands of hair back from her face.

    His voice had changed over the years, deepening just a little. His face had changed some, too, but he was still just as beautiful to her now as he had been when she was sixteen and he had come running to her side the night Joey and Lee had tried to rape her.

    She didn’t know where Cullen came from, only that one second she was alone, and then she wasn’t. They were outside, and Taige was lying on the hammock, with Cullen standing over her and staring at her with dark, unhappy eyes.

    In some part of her mind, she panicked. She knew that she’d fallen asleep, and now he was here. Now she’d have to face him, face the memories she tried so hard to bury and the longings that had never faded. But the rest of her? The rest of her was so happy to see him, she figured that if he crooked his finger at her, she would willingly strip herself naked and plant her butt in his lap.

    The idea had a lot of merit, but Cullen seemed more interested in scowling at her than making love to her.

    “Figures,” she muttered. “Even in my dreams, you’re going to be a pain in the ass.”

    “You’re one to talk.” He glared at her, and Taige had a feeling he wasn’t impressed with what he saw, somebody far too skinny, far too tired, and now scarred to boot. The midriff tank and low-rise shorts she had pulled on earlier didn’t cover the ugly scar low on her belly. It had faded some, no longer the angry red it had been a few years ago. The scar tissue was darker than rest of her skin, calling attention to it, and belatedly, she tried to cover it.

    But Cullen wouldn’t let her. He crouched down by her side and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand away so he could press his lips to it. A shiver raced through her. “You worry me,” he whispered, his breath dancing across her skin like a faint, teasing caress. “You don’t eat. You hardly sleep. You drink too much.”

    Tensing, she tried to move away from him. Cullen wouldn’t let her, though. He ended up crawling into the hammock with her, cradling her up against