But Ren’s stomach grows queasy when she sees the wide smile on Lita’s face. On Lita, a smile is as natural as blue jeans on a cat. She waits for Lita to quit admiring herself and move on before stealthily heading for the back door. She wants out of this house. She wants away from these people. She just wants Oscar.
She finds him with Spence. They are spaced about twenty yards apart, clutching shotguns and scanning the desert brush beyond the fake church. Oscar has his shirt off and in Ren’s utterly unbiased opinion he is the hottest guy in the solar system. He glances up as her shadow approaches and immediately breaks into a grin. She’s so lucky. What girl doesn’t pray to be smiled at like this? Lita can issue threats until her face melts off. Every lawyer in the country can drive their suits and phony concern to hell and back. Nothing is going to pull them apart.
“Hunting rattlers?” she asks, turning her face up for a quick kiss and not bothering to check whether Spence is watching. Spence continues combing the ground. Spence doesn’t care who is kissing who.
“Yep.” Oscar shoulders the shotgun and circles his arms around her waist.
She loves being close to him whenever she can, every way she can. She understands now what happens to people, how they lose all sense and reason when they fall as hard as this.
Oscar squints into the sun. “Too many of them around here lately. Someone’s going to take a bad step and wind up with a leg full of venom.”
“We have to talk,” Ren whispers.
Oscar doesn’t ask her what it’s about. He just nods and calls to Spence that he’s talking off for a while. He leaves Spence his shotgun and holds Ren’s hand as they head for the barn where it will be stifling hot but quiet.
There’s a place in the narrow loft they like to go when they need to be alone and can’t find anywhere else. Spence’s tired old mare, Pet, chews lazily and seems to be listening as Ren tells Oscar everything about the lawyer and about Mina.
He seems rather unsurprised, or else he’s putting on a brave face for her benefit. He tells her to stop talking and then sets her gently on her back for a long kiss. She says nothing about Brigitte’s strange claim that Oscar has been with someone other than her since arriving at Atlantis. It’s impossible. He tells her every day that there will never be anyone else, never again. She feels him pressing into her and wants to give him everything he needs. She needs it just as much. His strong hand moves over her skin, underneath her shirt and she arches her body, pushing him higher.
“You sick motherfucker!”
Oscar jerks and springs upright as sharply as if he’s been shot. Ren furiously rolls her shirt down and dares to glance down into Monty’s raging face. He’s not looking at her though. Every ounce of his fury is directed at Oscar. “Yeah, you better get your ass down here!”
Oscar jumps down and circles warily. “Stay up there, Ren.”
“You think you need to protect my sister from me? Is that what you think you shitty little punk?”
“Right now? Yes.”
Monty swings. He’s got a hard right hook but Oscar’s quick. He manages to dodge sideways.
“Montgomery!” Ren shouts. “You stop this right now!”
He flashes her a look that seems almost hurt, probably because in his mind he’s doing his lousy best to protect her honor or whatever from the predatory Oscar.
“I don’t want to get into this with you,” Oscar growls. “Not right now.” Then he sighs tiredly. “Goddammit, Monty, haven’t we knocked each other around enough this summer?”
Monty thinks. Then he smiles, a cold smile. “No,” he says and his next swing is abrupt enough to connect with Oscar’s jaw. Another guy would probably have been knocked over but Oscar just reels backwards momentarily and then rights himself, spitting out a quarter-sized bullet of blood. Without pausing to blink he knocks his right hook against Monty’s jaw. Monty curses, stumbling, and the two of them stand off, each ready to charge ahead and send the other straight to the next county.
Ren jumps down from the loft and gets between them. Monty is startled, dropping his stance and staring down at her with vague puzzlement. “This is between me and him, Ren.”
“No, it isn’t. You knock it the hell off or so help me I’ll never consider you a brother again.”
He’s dumbfounded. “Holy shit, don’t tell me you’ve bought into his act. He’s a horny little con artist.”
“Monty,” she warns, falling back to stand beside Oscar. “I mean it. Whatever battle you think you’re fighting doesn’t exist.”
Ren watches her brother shake his head in disgust. He spits on the ground and addresses Oscar. “This sure as shit isn’t over. You stay the fuck away from my sister or I swear one of these days I’ll kill you.”
Oscar just snorts. “Drop dead you mouth-breathing prick.”
With one more ominous glare at Ren, Monty takes off, stalks over to the pickup truck and peels out of Atlantis.
“Asshole,” Oscar says.
“Sometimes,” Ren sighs. She touches Oscar’s swelling jaw. “Does it hurt?”
“It’s nothing.”
Ren runs her fingers across his cheek, feeling a hint of rough stubble. It excites her. He always excites her. “You know, I bet he’ll be gone all day. Monty’s fits are usually good for about twelve hours of Monty-free living.”
Oscar grins. “Well worth the pain then.”
The little caretaker’s house is messy but blissfully empty. Ren prepares a gourmet lunch of grilled cheese and for the afternoon they pretend there is no Monty, no Lita, no such thing as a Savage. They spend hours in Oscar’s bed, making love tenderly, then playfully rough, then tender once again as the sun fades and an electrical storm rolls through.
“You smell that?” Ren asks as she straddles Oscar and listens to the wind outside.
Oscar props himself on his elbows, leans over and pushes the window open. “Fire,” he confirms. “Probably sparked by a bolt of lightning, likely in the mountain foothills.”
Ren shudders. The wind must be blowing the smoke right in their direction. The acrid stench fills the room. “It won’t reach here, will it?”
Oscar thinks about it. “Nah. There’s not enough on the desert floor to burn. Besides there’s probably rain coming right up. That’ll take care of things.”
“Oscar.” She rests her cheek against his hard chest. “We need to leave. We need to get out of here.”
He strokes her hair. “I know, baby. I know. Just need a few days to get a plan sorted out. Trust me, Ren. We’ll make it. As long as there’s us, there’s everything.”
“I love you, Oscar. I want to keep saying it in case I don’t say it enough.”
“You say it plenty. And you’re the only one I ever want to hear it from. I love you too.”
She shivers and tries to burrow closer to him. She can’t. She just can’t get close enough. “Show me,” she whispers.
It’s ecstasy, as always. He grips her hips and helps her move with deliberate care as they connect yet again. Ren keeps her eyes closed, letting herself go completely, and in that moment she glimpses her future, a future full of Oscar and of bliss, and she knows it will be hers.
It only takes an instant for the vision to shatter.
“What’s wrong?” Oscar asks. He sits up and tips her chin toward him. “Ren. You look terrified. What is it?”
She tries to smile but realizes her right hand is still clapped firmly over her mouth so a smile would make no difference. Slowly, she removes the hand that had flown to her face in horror the moment she’d opened her eyes and looked at the dark open window. Horror, because someone was right there, looking back at her. Someone whose features were twisted into an expression of hatred in its most unfiltered form. And then it was gone.
“Let’s go away,” she begs, clutching him. “Let’s go away tonight. I have a little bit of money from when I did some catalog modeling before we moved out here. Let’s just go. We don’t even have to tell anyone.”