Uncontrollable (The Nature of Grace, Book 2) Read online

  Mo slides back through the woods and holds out his hand. “Coming?”

  “Where?”

  “Let’s just get to the car. I need to call someone.”

  Instead of arguing, I concentrate on the warmth of Mo’s hand and follow him obediently through the woods. If I don’t let go, it means he can’t disappear.

  Every now and then, I look back to see if the man is following us. “Who is that man?”

  “I don’t know.” Mo says without turning around. I almost can’t hear him.

  I skip over a fallen tree. “Was it Al?”

  He shrugs as he tugs me behind him. “I don’t think so.”

  If Sweeney and Kate are at the hospital with Porter, who else could it be? When we reach the top of the ridge, a black Jeep is hidden on the side of the road.

  “Whose car is that?” I ask.

  Mo narrows his eyes. “What? You don’t trust me?”

  I narrow mine back. “Dad said to never trust a guy. I’m pretty sure a dead guy still qualifies.”

  His eyes look sad when I mention Dad. Then he nods. “Smart man.” Mo opens the door for me and waits until I’m in before walking to the driver’s side. He slides in and starts the car.

  I gawk at him as he climbs in the seat. “You drive?”

  He turns on the seat warmers and blasts the air, waiting for the heat to kick in. “That surprise you?”

  I shrug and realize there’s still so much I don’t know about him. “I just never saw you drive before. That’s all.”

  He keeps his lights off and swerves onto the forest road. “I’m a brilliant driver as long as I stay on the right side of the road. Kinda forget it’s opposite here sometimes.”

  He pulls out a cell phone and presses some buttons. He winks at me as he listens to the ringing.

  Eventually, he says, “Hey. Yeah. I got her. Where should I go?” He glances at me and pats my leg. “Got it. We’ll meet you there.”

  He hangs up and stares at the road. I keep my eyes on him, afraid he’ll disappear if I look away.

  “So? Who was that?”

  “Look, Grace, I know this is all… very weird.”

  I cut him off. “Weird? A dead guy shows up after months, kisses me, and whisks me up into the mountains in a new Jeep without telling me where we’re going... Why would you think that?”

  He smiles. “Same ole Grace. Love it. That was Agent Sweeney. He wants me to take you to Katie Reynolds’ place until he meets us there.”

  I lay my head against the seat. It suddenly feels full and congested with information. “Sweeney. Imagine that. I knew he was lying this whole time.”

  “He had no choice.”

  I turn my head to face him, leaving it against the headrest. “How did he know you were coming for me?”

  Mo sighs. “I’ll be straight with you. You deserve it. I’ve been assigned to watch you for the last few months. He called me after you called him about Seth. He was worried something might happen. A gut feeling really. He went to recover Seth and talk to Porter.”

  I snap my head up. “You know about all that?”

  He nods as I focus on the road. The blurry headlights illuminate the road. Snowflakes brush across the windshield, trying to get out of the way.

  “I was there,” he says.

  I think about what that means for a minute. “You? You were the person in the woods chasing me?”

  “Yes.”

  I smack his arm and frown. “Mo! I thought you were Al! You scared the crap out of me. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you. I had a gun, you know.”

  He doesn’t flinch. “I tried to call out to you, but you took off so fast. Sweeney was miffed I lost you. Made me look like a wanker in front of my boss.”

  “Sorry.”

  He leans over and kisses me with the side of his mouth. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, Blossom. Besides, I forgive you.”

  I playfully push him away. “You forgive me? Ha!”

  We both sit in silence for a few minutes. I stare at the side of his face and take in the features I never thought I would see again. The ones I love so much. The strong jaw, the dark eyes, the puffy lips.

  “I thought you were dead.”

  Mo grips my hand and squeezes. “I know. Crumbs, I’m so sorry I hurt you.” He glances over at me and wipes the bangs off my face. “But I’ll never leave you again.”

  My voice comes out soft, like a little girl. “Promise?”

  He nods once. “Abso-bloody-lutely.”

  I mumble. “I’ve heard that before.”

  As the car winds around the bend, snow slaps against the windshield. My eyes focus on the wipers, sliding back and forth smearing the window. I don’t know whether to be happy or mad. The last few months have been hell without Mo, and he was alive the whole time? But then again, I’m so thankful he is. This is a second chance most people don’t get. A chance I’ve prayed for every night.

  I curl up in the front seat and watch him drive, his eyes fixed on the road. Except for the stubble on his face and his hair being slightly longer, he looks just as wonderful as I remember. The features of his face have been etched into my brain for the last several months — the smile lines around his eyes, the sunspot on his right cheek, the way he talks.

  It seems like forever ago when I last saw him in the poachers’ camp. When he took a bullet for my dad. When he promised to catch up to me. I remember sitting in the cave after Dad slipped away, waiting. Hoping and praying I hadn’t lost everything.

  Yet now that I see him, it seems like just yesterday. And the feelings of that day come rushing back to me. I try to sift through them and focus on the happiness I feel now that Mo is back, yet I can’t help but feel wounded once again by the sorrow of watching my dad die.

  Without noticing me, he runs one hand through his hair and pulls at the top. I remember that gesture well. He’s nervous and knowing Mo is nervous makes me uneasy. I reach over and squeeze his hand, which makes me feel better. I never thought I would feel his touch again. His skin is warm from the heat.

  He glances over and winks. “Nice night for a drive.”

  “Maybe. If a maniac wasn’t trying to kill me.”

  I watch the flurries dancing in the car’s headlights and suddenly feel sick. I try to imagine what it would be like just driving with Mo, laughing and talking like we used to do in the woods, with no threat behind us. I can’t even fathom what that would feel like. To be normal.

  “Don’t worry,” he says. “You’re safe with me.

  I hug my legs, now propped on the dashboard. “Famous last words.”

  Mo turns into a long driveway that winds and ends in front of a huge house. A luxurious, cabin–style house, not the rustic kind. The fancy, “looks like a cabin so we feel like we’re rural” kind of house.

  “This is Katie’s house?” I say. “Wow.”

  I remembered the articles and how wealthy her family was. It must be nice to have money like this, and yet she still focuses on the environment. Admirable. I’m not sure I would do the same. I lean forward and look out the window as we circle in front.

  Mo throws the Jeep into park. “Definitely not your average fixer-upper.”

  Before I can climb out, he jogs around the side of the car and opens my door. I raise my eyebrows.

  “My, aren’t we just the perfect gentleman.”

  “I’m English. What do you expect?” He grabs my hand, and we walk up to the house together.

  As soon as I’m on the porch, I smell something sweet. I look down. “Cedar decking.”

  “Is that good?”

  “Expensive.”

  Mo punches a code into the keypad and pushes open the door. I stand and wait. “Am I supposed to carry you or something?”

  I laugh and smack his arm. “What? That’s only if someone is married.”

  “Right.” He leads me into the house and flips on the lights. “Agent Sweeney said we could make ourselves at home.”

  I look at all t
he books lining the walls. “Only no home of mine ever looked like this.”

  He lets go of my hand and walks around the room, flipping on a few lamps. He whistles once the light comes on. “Definitely fancy.”

  I study the rows of books along the wall — everything from medical and animal books to fiction, from the classics to current bestsellers. I pull out a first edition of Hatchet and smile.

  “She’s rich and smart.”

  Mo studies a picture hanging on the wall as if we are in the Biltmore in Asheville. “Loves art, too,” he says.

  I touch one of the chairs. “She is really serious when she says she keeps the environment in mind. These chairs are bamboo. I know because my dad tried to get my mom to buy one for his office. He didn’t feel right using leather.”

  Mo sits down and bounces a little. “As much as I love talking about the woodsy décor, I think we should talk. I owe you an explanation.”

  I plop down next to him. “Yeah, you do. Your cute accent and dreamy ways can only get you by for so long.”

  His smile drops, and his expression changes into a serious one. He touches my face.

  “God, it’s so good to be able to talk to you finally. I can only imagine how hard this has been on you. Thinking I was gone. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. Especially after your Dad.”

  My chest tightens when he says that. The truth is, it’s been unbearable without Mo because I’ve had to hide all my feelings.

  “I saw you at the memorial service,” he says.

  My memory scans the room that day. “You were there?” I shake my head. “No, I would have noticed.”

  “Sweeney let me watch from the balcony. You looked so empty and sad. I wanted so much to hold you. I knew how much you were hurting, and knowing it was partly because of me was awful.”

  He runs his hands through his hair. “I tried to get Sweeney to let me see you. Just once. But he felt it was too dangerous. He suspected Al would definitely come back if he knew I was alive, considering how much I know about his operation. I didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I process his words for a few seconds. “I thought you only knew my dad. How long have you been working with Sweeney?”

  “After my dad died, I vowed at his funeral to find his killer and bring him to justice. I found his papers, stashed them, and started hanging around gun shows like I told you, looking for some of the ring members. Dad’s notes said they wore green bandanas.

  “One day at a gun show, I befriended Al and Billy. They invited me to go shooting the next day, but before I could leave, Sweeney approached me. He told me about the USFWS, and how they were tracking a poaching ring. They felt it was involved in my dad’s death.”

  I watch Mo breathe. I never thought I would see his chest rise and fall again. I place my hand on his heart and feel it beating. This is real.

  “So he let you join him?” I ask. “Just like that?”

  “I think at the time I was their only connection. Their only way in. Joe — your dad — was with Sweeney that day.” He pauses, “They told me they needed someone on the inside. Someone the ring would never suspect. I offered. It was all I wanted to do.”

  “Weren’t you a little young?”

  He shrugs. “None of us cared. I had nothing to go back to. Mom and Dad were both dead.”

  “So what happened that day in the woods?”

  He lays his head back on the sofa. “When you left me on the hill, I was in bad shape. I’d been shot in the ribs. I watched you and your dad go down the trail until I knew you were out of sight. I never saw Al follow you, so I thought you were safe. I hid for a bit until Sweeney showed up with some men and took out all the guys. When the chaos was over, he covered me with a sheet and loaded me on a gurney and wheeled me out.”

  I think back to that day in the woods, the man in a suit pushing a gurney up the hill. “I saw that,” I say.

  “You don’t know how hard it was for me to lie under that sheet and hear you crying. By that time, I knew Joe had died, and Tommy was in bad shape, too.” He shakes his head as if remembering all that happened. “When you called out, Agent Sweeney told me to lie still. Then I could see you standing over me. I remember holding my breath, thinking, ‘She’s gonna pull back this damn sheet and kick my bum.’”

  I laugh out loud. “I would have.”

  Mo turns his knees toward me and holds both my hands. “I watched you from the back of that van, and when you crumbled into your mom’s arms...” Tears form in his eyes. “It almost killed me. Jesus, I’ve hated myself every day for what I did to you. What I left you to deal with. Alone.”

  He swallows, and I notice his chin quiver slightly. “I understand if you never want to speak to me again.”

  I cup his face and wipe a tear from his cheek. “Are you crazy? Mo Cameron, I’m not letting you out of my sight. I know you did what you had to do. We’ve both made mistakes. I don’t hate you. I consider this my second chance, and trust me, I’ve been praying for one. I’m taking this with both hands.”

  He smiles slightly and twists a piece of my hair around his finger. “Be careful what you pray for.”

  “In that cave, one of the last things my dad said was how good of a guy you are. I know you took care of him at that camp the best you could. You’re the one who kept him alive the whole time. You’re the only reason I even got to hold him again. Even if it was just to say goodbye. And if he says you’re good, that’s enough for me. We can start over.”

  “Brilliant.” He rises to his feet and holds out his hand. “Hello, I’m Mo.”

  I giggle. “I remember that day in the woods, and you were much more scared than that.”

  He looks at me and keeps his arm extended.

  I play along and put my hand in his. “Grace.”

  Mo pulls me to my feet and kisses my knuckles. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Grace.” He leans in and stops. “Surely you’re not going to let me kiss you right after we just met? We’re strangers, remember?”

  I clutch his jacket and yank him closer. “I’ll make an exception just this once.”

  Mo leans in and we kiss lightly. And with that kiss, our hourglass of time is flipped.

  And we start over.

  Survival Skill #26

  In any survival situation, you can’t let your guard down. Stay alert to your surroundings until you know you are safe. This helps to avoid other problems.

  Mo and I melt into each other.

  I’m not sure how much time passes, but in those moments, we make up for what we lost, hugging and laughing and talking and kissing. I almost don’t hear the floorboards creak until someone speaks.

  “Well, I guess you’re safe.”

  Mo jumps to his feet and pushes me behind him, shielding me. “Oy! Who are you?”

  I peek around Mo’s side and see Wyn standing there with a sad look on his face. “Wyn? Jesus. What are you doing here?”

  I step out next to Mo, who clutches my hand tightly.

  Wyn glances at our joined hands and then looks at me. “You said you were coming over when you called from the house.” His face turns pink as if he’s either angry or embarrassed. “So, of course, when you didn’t show, I got worried.”

  I smack my hands to my head. “Oh, God, Wyn. I’m so sorry. I totally forgot.”

  “I see that.” He keeps talking as if my apology meant nothing. “Anyway, first I called Birdee.”

  “At home?”

  “On her cell. She was still at the Burrows’ house.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief, thinking anyone who was stalking the house is probably gone by now after realizing no one is home. Wyn walks to the window and looks out, but I can tell he’s eyeing Mo’s reflection in the glass.

  “When she didn’t know where you were, I called Agent Sweeney. He said you were up here. Now I see why he told me not to come. But I thought you were alone. I didn’t mean to intrude, though I can’t say I’m not happy about breaking
up this little party.”

  I ignore his jab and give him a hug. “I’m so sorry I worried you.”

  When I touch him, his body is stiff at first, but he quickly relaxes.

  “I got some nasty IMs and saw some guy sneaking around my house,” I explain. “I went out the back, and Mo found me. I totally forgot about…”

  “About me?” Wyn glares at Mo. “Hmm, that never happens.”

  Mo walks forward and sticks out his hand in a friendly gesture. He smiles that perfect smile that would surely win me over again instantly. “I should probably introduce myself. I’m Mo Cameron. It’s nice to finally meet you. Grace has talked a lot about you.”

  “Funny.” Wyn stares at Mo’s hand without reciprocating. “Only thing I heard about you was that you were dead.”

  Obviously the dashing smile doesn’t work on Wyn the way it does on me. I give Wyn a dirty look, and my voice comes out in a scolding tone. “Wyn.”

  Mo comes to his defense. “It’s okay. I deserve that. I’m sure this is all very confusing.”

  Wyn looks down at me. “Guess that part wasn’t true after all.”

  I push him away a little. “Wait a minute. Don’t assume I’ve been lying to you. I thought Mo was dead, too, this whole time. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

  I glance back at Mo who is standing tall, looking regal without knowing it.

  Wyn moves around me. “Didn’t look that surprised.”

  Guilty as charged. I cover my mouth as if that will conceal any kiss Wyn witnessed when he walked in. He walks over to a chair and sits with one leg up over his other knee.

  “So unless we’re in a zombie apocalypse, you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  I glance over at Mo, who jumps in before I can say anything. “Sure. I work with Agent Sweeney. We pretended I was dead to make sure Al didn’t come back for Grace. Sweeney thinks someone is out to get her. We just don’t know who exactly. It’s either Porter or Al. He asked me to bring her here and watch her. Keep her safe.”

  Wyn nods and leans forward. He places both index fingers on his mouth as if he’s thinking. “Interesting. So you’re keeping her safe with your lips?”

  I shriek. “Wyn!”