“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.
I let my eyes drift to hers and shrugged one shoulder.
“Nothing,” I muttered.
“Bad dream?”
She knew me way too well.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Are you going to tell me about it?”
I didn’t want to. Talking about it was like living it over again. I also didn’t want her to know how much being back in civilization where people could find us easily scared the shit out of me. I also knew her patience was going to wear out, and eventually I would have to tell her. Telling her about the dream would be far less complicated than telling her I thought someone was stalking us.
Might as well get it over with.
“We were on the island,” I said quietly. Images of the beach and our little shelter near the line of palm trees invaded my head and made my chest ache. “The helicopter was there, and you were getting on it.”
I paused for too long, and Raine pressed me for more.
“I wasn’t going with you,” I finally said.
“Why not?” Raine asked as she moved to prop herself up on one elbow and look at me.
I shrugged again.
“You didn’t want me to.”
“Bastian…”
“It’s just a fucking dream,” I snapped. “You asked.”
Raine tilted her head to get a better look at me in the dim light of the room. She reached out and ran her fingers over my jaw as she stared intently into my eyes.
“There’s more to it, isn’t there?” she said.
Too fucking intuitive.
I looked away from her, let out a long breath, and stared at the balcony door. When I didn’t answer, she poked me in the arm.
“Tell me.”
I let out a long, overdramatic sigh.
“You were pregnant,” I told her.
This time, the long pause was hers. She gripped my jaw and narrowed her eyes at me.
“I’m not her, Bastian.”
Jillian.
She was the woman who conned me into fucking her bareback so she could take my child away to be raised by some other guy. The woman I thought I loved had only used me to get what she wanted—to get what that guy couldn’t give her.
“I know that.”
“I’m not going to leave you,” Raine continued. “Besides, you can’t get me pregnant, remember?”
I’d made sure something like that could never happen to me again.
“Vasectomies are not exactly something a guy forgets.”
I dropped back to the pillows, pulled her down against me, and closed my eyes.
The conversation was over. At least for now, I’d try to keep my paranoia to a minimum.
Chapter Five
The next day, I got a lot of answers, but they definitely made everything worse, not better.
I’d shaken up my routine quite a bit. I’d added both morning and afternoon workouts at the gym and still spent my early mornings running on the beach. The workouts were filling up a decent amount of time when Raine wasn’t around and kept me from spending quite as much time at Bar Crudo in the late afternoons when Raine was still in class.
Sitting in a small coffee shop off the beach, I finished off my espresso and checked my watch. The bar would open soon, and I wanted to be there before there was any kind of crowd around. There were already way too many people on the beach, especially for a weekday.
I tossed a few bills down on the table and started walking through the palm trees to the street. I didn’t get far before someone called out to me.
“It’s been a while.”
A shiver moved through me, and no amount of Miami heat could have kept it from chilling me to the bone. That voice—though it had been a long time since I heard it—was enough to send me into a near panic even without the added stress of an unknown intruder at my condo.
It can’t be a coincidence.
“Landon.” I turned as I spoke the name and found my former mentor leaning against the wall behind me. Though I had a couple inches on him, I always felt like I was looking straight into his eyes. Usually I had to look down on other guys, which was a feeling I enjoyed, but Landon seemed like the exception.
In many ways.
He made for a damn imposing figure: blond, blue-eyed, strong jawed, and probably everything Hitler would have looked for in his youth brigade if Landon hadn’t been approaching his forties. He wasn’t as big as I was in the shoulders and chest, but anyone who looked at him knew he spent more than just a couple hours a week in the gym. He had the stoic military bearing of his SEAL training though he’d retired many years ago.
He’d beaten the shit out of me in the past, especially in the beginning when I was learning from him. He could still take me down, a fact we both knew quite well, and he was bound to do it again sometime. John Paul said it was his fucked-up way of showing he cared, and I had to agree with the assessment. As terrifying as he was, Landon was the only father-figure I’d ever had in my life.
Raine hated him. I could tell that from the way her face would scrunch up like she just stepped in dog shit anytime I mentioned him. She thought he made me a monster, but I knew better.
Landon Stark made me, no doubt about it, but not into a monster. He took me off the streets where I was destined to end up either dead or in prison at some point and turned me into who I was, for better or worse.
He saved my fucking life.
“How are you, Sebastian?”
I swallowed hard.
“Been worse,” I stated. My heart was racing, and I had the feeling he could hear it. Hell, he could probably see my carotid beating in my throat; Landon never missed a detail.
“I can attest to that,” Landon replied simply. “You’re still off the booze.”
The remark alone made me want to bury myself in a bottle or two. At least he hadn’t caught me walking into the bar. If he had waited another minute or two to make himself known, he would have discovered my intended destination.
“Yeah, almost a year now,” I said. I shoved my cigarette into my mouth and inhaled deeply as I tried to center myself and get my shit together. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking up on you,” he said.
Landon was never one for hiding his intentions. When I thought about it, I realized after all this time that it was plausible. He might be here only to check up on me, but I doubted it.
So why was he here?
There were too many answers to that question, and I didn’t like the sound of any of them. Having him show up so soon after someone had been in my apartment raised my hackles. I braced myself as I wondered just what this meeting was going to entail.
“Well, I’m good,” I said. “Consider the check complete.”
“Good, are you?” he said. He nodded back toward the door to Bar Crudo, which was just across the street from where we walked down the sidewalk. “Hanging out in a bar every day? Cage fighting? Really, Sebastian?”
He wouldn’t have had to have been in the area long to know I went to the same bar almost daily. However, my single escapade to the part of town with the cage fighting venue had been a month ago, which meant Landon had either been in Miami that long or had someone in the area keeping tabs on me. John Paul hadn’t mentioned it, so he probably didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if I should consider that a good sign or not.
“It’s good for quick cash,” I said with a shrug. I wasn’t going to be able to dismiss it so easily, though. Not with Landon. Aside from Raine, there was no one who knew me better.
He just raised an eyebrow, and I shrugged again.
“It was a good stress reliever,” I added. “I only went there once.”
“You’re getting back in shape,” he noted.