No Longer Lost: Secrets Of Stone: Book Nine

by Angel Payne

  I paused, needing the break to lay all my thoughts in an orderly row. “That includes the lunch date, the messages, the texts, and him showing up at your apartment—the first time.” I hesitated to include the last part, thinking John hadn’t been fully confirmed as the guilty party, but unless my girlfriend had another stalker romping around in the background of her life, the statement was a sure thing. “And yeah, we’ll probably have to talk about me threatening him at the hospital and him lying to Scripps HR.”

  She came back to where I still sat on the lounge chair and crawled into my lap. Looping her arms around my neck, she pressed her forehead to mine. “I am sorry I yelled at you,” she whispered. “None of this is your fault. I’m just so mad. And sad.”

  “Sad? Don’t be sad, baby.” I leaned back to look at her. Mad I could understand, but the last thing I could stand was for her to be sad. I’d move heaven and earth to see the radiant joy on her face that was there just an hour ago.

  “Our trip has to end. I never wanted it to end.” Tears filled her eyes, and one lonely drop escaped and rolled down her cheek. I felt like someone had just stabbed me in the fucking heart.

  “Baby. We can take another trip just as soon as everything settles down again. I promise. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.” And I meant it, with every speck of my heart and soul. It was so rare to see Taylor cry from sadness. I would do everything in my power to keep that level of pain from her life as long as she let me.

  At last, while I still stroked the back of her head, I murmured, “Let’s go upstairs and get packed. We may still have a long day ahead of us.”

  “Wait.” When she pulled back, it was to palm away her tears and then blink at me with newly lucid eyes. “Is Killian really just going to send his jet down here for us? That’s so crazy.” She sounded as amazed as I felt about the gesture.

  “Apparently Margaux is in Chicago with the jet. There’s some guy with her too—but not Michael.” For the first time, I realized the impact of that. And for the second time, Taylor looked as stunned as I felt.

  “Huh?” she charged. “What guy who isn’t Michael? And Chicago?”

  I frowned. “I’m sure that’s what Killian said.”

  “That makes no sense.” Her gaze drifted toward the large swimming pool, where people were seated at the swim-up bar, chatting in the afternoon breeze. The halcyon scene contrasted greatly with the vexation in her eyes. “I spoke to her right before we left on the trip,” she stated. “She didn’t mention a thing about going to Chicago. Besides, she wouldn’t just randomly pick up and go there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she hates that city now. Too many shitty memories.”

  “Ah. Right. Because of all the crap that went down with her mother, right?”

  “Andrea Asher is not her mother—especially not now. The woman’s a first-rate criminal and a creepy fugitive who’s fled the country. And she did so with—”

  “The cousin who won’t be named,” I filled in. Piece by piece, the memories started coming back. I’d always been too busy and filled with self-importance to notice anything that happened with my three cousins, even when Killian was outed as the Stone-who-really-wasn’t-and-then-was-again, but the notoriety of Trey’s actions had penetrated even my sanctum of saving the world, one hunk of brain tissue at a time. After a list of scandals a mile long, including attempting to blackmail Margaux, he’d slipped past the feds and disappeared somewhere beyond the States, taking his cougar lover with him. The woman had left her husband for the tryst—

  Ding, ding, ding.

  “The husband,” I said out loud.

  Taylor scowled. “The what?”

  “Asher’s husband. I think he’s also Claire’s dad?” And who the hell’s on first? This was why I never paid attention when the nurses clucked like hens, talking about the latest happenings on their favorite nighttime dramas. Actually, I also didn’t listen when they discussed other shit, but crap like this was the biggest trigger for my Mute button.

  “Colin?”

  “Yeah.” I jabbed a finger into the air. “That was it.”

  “So Margaux’s in Chicago…with Colin?” She rubbed her forehead, deep in thought. “I wonder what that’s all about…”

  “Sounds like you’ll have a chance to find out.” A new shrug. “He made it seem like the new flight plan was no big deal. I guess when you own a few jets and a bunch of people who sit around waiting for you to tell them what to do, it’s just that.” I rubbed my head too. The whole idea was such a foreign notion. I mean, I grew up within a wealthy family, but Killian was on a whole other level.

  We walked on the meandering path through the resort for one last time, my arm around her slender shoulders, holding her close to my body.

  “It’s nice to see you and Killian getting along a little bit better?” She worded it more as a question, inquiring about the way our phone conversation went after I took the call from the speaker.

  “I guess so. He made a comment about us treating each other like family, being there for each other more. I’m not really familiar with the concept, to be honest with you. I wasn’t really tight with any family growing up because my mother is so hideous to everyone.”

  “Mac.”

  “Well, she is. You know it. I know it. Everyone who knows her knows it. No sense sugarcoating the issue. We never had relationships with anyone for very long because she would get into a fight with them and cut them out of her life when they disagreed with her. Of course, it was always their fault, never hers.” As we walked up the stairs instead of taking the elevator, doing anything to prolong our respite in paradise, I muttered, “I don’t know why it took me so long to recognize the pattern.”

  “Well, I think as children, even as adult children, we want to see the best in our parents. It’s easy to turn a blind eye to their shortcomings, you know?” Her soft voice was warm with understanding, even after everything her own mother had put her through over the years.

  “You’re an amazing woman, Taylor Mathews.” We stopped in front of our door, and I turned her to face me. “I love you with all my heart. We’re going to get through this storm, just like we will get through any other storm life puts in our path.”

  “You’re a pretty amazing man yourself, Maclain Stone.” She smiled up at me. “I’m very fortunate to have stumbled into your circus.” She stretched up and kissed me one last time before our world would be turned upside down.

  Chapter Nine

  Taylor

  While being chauffeured home on a private jet should’ve been an experience of a lifetime, especially considering I was in the company of some wonderful friends and my extremely sexy lover, the oppressive weight of the disaster that awaited us in San Diego hung over my head like a guillotine. I considered taking advantage of the drinks repeatedly offered to me by the jet’s overattentive staff, but Mac put a stop to that plan before it gained wings.

  “I don’t think you’re going to want to be nursing a hangover on top of everything else when we get home,” he said stoically, taking the third drink from my hand.

  “Oh, don’t be a party pooper.” I tried to reach around his large torso to grab the drink off the small table where he had just placed it. He took my hand and held it in his, kissing my knuckles with his typical breath-stealing adoration.

  “Just think about it,” he softly exhorted. The past week in nirvana had turned my taciturn boss man into a loving hunk. In my mind, I replayed everything he’d done to me on the sheets, the beach, the balcony, even under the waterfall during our hiking trip.

  His quiet voice shook me from my musings, though, dumping me right back into the mess we were dealing with. “We really have no idea what’s in store for us when we get home.”

  “What’s all this we? That jackass didn’t break into your place, just mine,” I cracked.

  “Hold up.” His auburn brows crunched over the newly sharpene
d shards of his green eyes. “Do you really think I’d let you deal with this alone?” Gone was the quiet, calm, serene version of the man, and as he spat his response, Colin Montgomery conveniently feigned interest in the same clouds we’d been cruising over for an hour. “When is it going to sink into that head of yours, Taylor? I love you, goddamnit. Part of loving someone is helping them through crappy situations like this. It’s not just the good stuff. It’s the bad stuff too.”

  Thank God for Margaux, who came out of the restroom at that exact moment, saving me from having to further the discussion about love and feelings.

  She plopped down in the seat across from me. “So what happened between the day you called me from the side of the freeway and this guy spray painting love notes inside your apartment?” She opened the bottle of water waiting for her beside her seat and chugged back about half. “God, I get so dehydrated when I travel.” Setting the bottle down, she stared at me and waited for me to fill her in on the details about John.

  “I don’t know.” I rubbed my temples. “He’s a nutcase. Mac had words with him at the hospital.”

  “Words with him?” she interrupted. “Is that a euphemism for argued with him? Threatened him? What? I mean, you ended up having to take an unscheduled vacation.”

  Mac laughed. “Nothing slips by you, does it?”

  Margaux slid out a sly smile. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks. So, do you work with him? Did you know him before all this started? Is this a grudge thing on top of him crushing on our girl?”

  “Jesus, slow down with the questions, Sherlock. And your girl is sitting right here, need I remind you?” I hated when people talked about me like I was a child and couldn’t handle what was going on.

  “Take it easy, Sassy.” Mac turned and addressed Margaux. “I never saw the douchebag before this all started. I didn’t even know where the hospital lab was when I went looking for him. As a matter of fact…” He stopped himself, going unnaturally quiet. Finally, he murmured, “Fuck. Why didn’t I remember that before now?”

  “What?” I straightened. “Remember what, Mac?”

  “The day we faced off in the elevator…” His gaze grew unfocused as he recalled what had happened. “The whack job said something, but it didn’t really faze me at the time. Only now do I realize how creepy it was.” He stopped again, causing Margaux and me to burst with tandem groans.

  “Okay, Stephen King,” Margaux teased. “Way to build suspense.”

  “Right?” I added.

  “I’m just trying to remember the context,” Mac explained. “John said he only volunteered with the Bloodmobile when he knew Taylor would be donating.” He turned to me again. “How long have you been donating blood? Did you do it on a regular basis? Like something he could keep track of? Did you have to schedule an appointment, or could you just walk up?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, really. I’ve been donating for a few years. They keep records of that. You can schedule an appointment online or just walk up to the Bloodmobile when you see it parked somewhere. They try to make it convenient for people to encourage more donations. I have an online account. I can look at my history.”

  Margaux stood up and went over to where her carry-on had been stowed for takeoff. She whisked her laptop out of the front of the bag. “Here. We can just check. We should be at cruising altitude and have Wi-Fi by now.”

  “Was he there every time you donated blood?” Mac asked.

  “Maybe not every single time, but often. I don’t know. It’s not like I was keeping track of it in my diary at night.”

  He grinned. “You have a diary?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I taunted.

  He leaned closer. “Do you write about me in it?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I repeated in the same tone before standing to join Margaux at the small table where she was setting up her laptop. Mac quickly snaked his arm across my waist and pulled me into his lap, a little yelp escaping me from the surprise of the movement.

  “I have ways of making you talk, Ms. Mathews.” His voice was heavy with promise just before he sank his teeth into my shoulder.

  “Stop. Don’t need to hear or see all this.” Margaux playfully plugged her ears and then switched to covering her eyes but widened space between two fingers to peek through.

  “Wow. You’ve embarrassed Mary Stone. The impossible has been done.” I beamed up into his handsome face and his eyes on fire with desire.

  “Oh, don’t get too full of yourself over there,” Margaux chided. “Come log in to your account so we can see just how long McCreepy has been creepy.”

  Just like that, the sexy mood was gone. I sighed and pulled myself off Mac’s lap with leverage from the armrest. As soon as I was next to Margaux, she swiveled her laptop to face me. I quickly typed in my credentials on the blood bank’s homepage.

  In a low whisper, her eyes glittering with intrigue, “Was he biting you?” she asked.

  I giggled as quietly as I could. “It’s his…thing.”

  She made a swoony face. “Holy shit.”

  A new giggle. “And now I like it too.”

  “Nice.” She gave her head a quick shake to get back to the matter at hand.

  Mac came and joined us at the small table, all three of us bending our heads over Margaux’s laptop.

  “So, it looks like you gave blood every two and a half or three months? Does that seem about right?” Mac asked.

  “Well, here,” Margaux said, pointing to the screen. “The time in between appointments gets longer. These are the most recent dates. So why did the time in between get longer? Were you picking up on a strange vibe from John?” she prodded. “Did that make you not want to go anymore?”

  “No,” I answered timidly. “That wasn’t why.”

  “Well, then why?” she pressed.

  I pointed at Mac.

  “What does he have to do with anything?” she asked, not realizing she was treading in sensitive territory.

  “I’ve been a little…preoccupied,” I said defensively and then quickly followed that with: “I mean, before, I didn’t have a lot happening on my social calendar. Sometimes just going out and donating blood was something to do—a reason to get out of the house. Something other than work or rescuing Janet.” Having to admit that out loud made me realize how pathetic my life actually was before I met Mac.

  “Well, maybe the psychopath picked up on the change in your routine too,” Margaux mused aloud.

  “It probably didn’t help that the last couple times I was there, he showed up.” I jabbed a finger Mac’s way again.

  “That was just a coincidence.” This time Mac was doing the defending.

  “Well, yes and no.” I scoffed with open skepticism.

  “Yeah, but McCreepy didn’t know that,” Mac argued.

  “I guess not. But there was more than enough posturing going on between the two of you.”

  “I don’t like being challenged.” Caveman Mac didn’t bother apologizing for it. “The second time, when I saw you hugging him, I literally saw red. If he hadn’t gone back inside that bus by the time I got across the parking lot, I don’t know what I would’ve done to him.”

  “And at the time, I would’ve thought he was harmless.” I shook my head in disbelief.

  “And look where we are now.” He sat back in his seat, cocking a smug smirk.

  I pushed to my feet. “I never said I was a good judge of character.”

  “Present company excluded,” Margaux quipped.

  “Still debatable.” I arched a new brow Mac’s direction.

  He held up his first finger like he was counting.

  I scoffed. “I’m going to snap that finger off and hand it to you.” But as soon as I was done with the threat, he grabbed me around the waist again. At once, I batted at his hands—for what little good it did me. I ended up planted in his lap just like before.

  “Does he always just toss you around at will?” Margaux stared a
t the two of us piled together in one chair.

  “Pretty much.” I stiffened my pout in matching degrees to my limbs in his lap.

  “But if you weighed more than a piece of paper, you could fight back.” The interjection came from Colin, who’d been observing our banter with a twinkle in his eyes and a small smile across his handsome face. I was struck by how much Claire resembled her dad, and I already knew that little Regan was going to grow up as a gorgeous mix of the Montgomery and Stone genes. Poor Killian was going to be fighting off the boys with pretty huge sticks.

  Margaux closed her laptop with an efficient snap. “I’m going to go call home,” she declared. “I miss my little monster. Maybe if she’s not napping, Caroline can put her on FaceTime.”

  She trotted off toward the back of the plane. When she was out of earshot, Mac said, “Maybe this is all my fault.”

  What the hell?

  Maybe I just hadn’t heard him right. I twisted in his arms so I could look directly into his face. “Why would you say that?”

  “I don’t know,” Mac uttered, stabbing a hand through his hair. “Maybe I did egg him on, like you said. With all my ‘posturing.’”

  “No.” I pressed my hands to both sides of his worried face. “That wasn’t my point, Mac. Not in the least. This guy is messed up in the head. Neither one of us brought this on. We can’t start thinking like that. If that were the case, then I’m to blame too. I egged him on by going out to lunch with him. Are you okay with me saying that now? Blaming myself for his obsessive behavior?”

  “Absolutely not.” His growl was rough and immediate.

  “Then there’s no way any of this is your fault either. Not one little bit.”

  He nodded, clearly accepting my assurance in every spirit I gave it. Being acknowledged like this was…nice. Really nice. So why wasn’t I able to give him the same thing? To trust the words and feelings he gave me as the complete truth?