by R. J. Groves
He somehow managed to stop the smile from dropping from his face, but he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed as he stared at the empty space where she’d been standing. His body reminded him that he’d fallen hard for the woman he’d known for most of his life. The logical part of him told him he couldn’t say anything until he knew she felt the same. If she ever felt the same.
Another sword swatted his side, and he planted his hands on his hips, diverting his attention to the crowd of kids. ‘Who dares strike me?’ he bellowed.
‘It was me!’ one of his nephews yelled, brandishing his sword.
‘Xander? Is that you?’ he said in his best giant voice.
‘No, it’s Zeke!’
Shannon raised an eyebrow and leaned back on his heels. He might have had a tendency to call the twins by each other’s names, but at four years old, he’d thought he’d have it right by now.
‘Zeke?’
His other nephew turned towards him, planting his hands on his hips, then diverted his gaze to his brother.
‘No, I’m Zeke!’
‘Are not!’
‘Are too!’
Shannon let out a long slow breath. ‘Oh, boy.’
***
Jannette was exhausted.
The twins’ party had taken it out of her, and the fact that she hadn’t been getting much sleep lately had only added to it. Lying to Shannon had been hard, and coming up with excuses to brush off any advances had made her feel just as bad as keeping the pregnancy from him. And between worrying about that—and how she was going to be able to make it through their arrangement in one piece, and the fact that she was pregnant—had made it difficult to fall asleep. Not to mention that she now had no place to go back to since her house in Perth was officially sold.
She wondered if Shannon was the factor that had made it so hard to fall asleep. The nights she’d spent in his bed had been the best sleeps she’d had in a long time—regardless of how long they were actually sleeping. She’d grown too used to sleeping with his arms around her. Too used to being married to him.
‘Everything okay over there?’ Shannon said as he rolled the car to a stop out front of their house.
His house, she reminded herself. The weight settled further in her stomach at the thought. Who would have thought she’d be living in her childhood home again and it wouldn’t even be hers?
‘Yeah, I’m just tired,’ she said. It wasn’t a lie—she was—but it also wasn’t the entire truth.
He turned in his seat to look at her, concern on his face. ‘You look it,’ he said. ‘But I don’t blame you. Kids are exhausting.’ He patted a hand on her thigh, sending what felt like an electric shock through her. ‘Aren’t you glad we got to leave them all behind and escape?’
His eyes were flashing, showing he was teasing, but she wasn’t quick enough to stop the gasp that escaped her. His expression grew suddenly serious.
‘Sorry, that was insensitive. I know you want to have kids one day—and you’d make a great mum,’ he hastened to add. ‘I just meant—’
‘I get it,’ she said curtly, cutting him off and trying to swallow the hurt before it showed on her face. He didn’t want kids. He was good with kids, sure. But he liked the idea of leaving them with their parents instead of bringing them home and tucking them into bed. She tried to ignore how much it actually hurt.
‘Jenny—’
‘I’m tired, Shannon,’ she said flatly. ‘And I don’t want to talk about it.’
He jerked back, but she avoided looking up at him. She wasn’t sure she’d like what she saw. ‘Sure, o—okay,’ he said slowly, his tone growing cold. ‘Why don’t you head on inside and rest, then. I’ll manage the evening chores just fine.’
She nodded, letting herself out of the car, and mumbled a thank you instead of asking if he was sure. She was worried he might rescind his offer and she’d have to face him again when she just needed a moment alone. She made her way up to the front door and paused, her hand on the doorhandle. She hazarded a glance behind her to see that Shannon was already halfway towards the milking shed, a hand running through his hair.
She blinked back a tear and let herself inside to make a cup of tea, putting the kettle on as soon as she got in.
Where had things gone so wrong?
For a few brief moments since she’d come back to her childhood home, she’d felt like things were going to be okay. Like things were sorting themselves out. She’d felt like she was where she was meant to be. But now …
Now she was back to square one, except with the addition of being pregnant and having a husband who didn’t want kids. Fantastic. Every girl’s dream. She swiped at her eyes as she poured the water into a cup, hot water sloshing over the rim and splashing on her hand.
‘Damn it,’ she cried, turning on the tap and diving her hand under the cold water.
Perfect, anything to add to the mood.
She stared at the stream of water running over her hand and her vision blurred. How could she have let herself fall for Shannon? She’d set rules, for Pete’s sake. No falling in love. It was right there on her rule sheet that she still kept in her desk drawer in thicker writing and twice the size of every other rule. And yet it may have already been broken when she’d written it.
She’d been infatuated with Shannon as a kid, and now she was head-over-heels. She couldn’t make it through a year of marriage. She couldn’t face him, knowing he didn’t want a child, and knowing she loved him and he didn’t love her back. How could he? He’d married her to get his inheritance so he could buy the family farm off her brother. Well, now that he’d got the first half of his inheritance, maybe she could leave earlier. Perhaps now that her house was sold, she might be able to pay off the part of his inheritance he wouldn’t get if he didn’t stay married for a year. She glanced up at the kitchen window where she could see the milking shed in the distance. The door was wide open and the cows were already making their way into it.
She’d have to talk to him. Tonight. The sooner the better. The sooner she left, the less heartbroken she’d be. If that were at all possible. Her focus shifted from the milking shed to her own reflection in the window, and she caught a glimpse of something move somewhere behind her.
A chill swept through her body and her breath caught in her throat as she remembered the part of their deal that she was benefiting from. Another movement. Her breathing grew choppy. It couldn’t be Shannon. He was in the shed. But no one else was here. Robbie had already moved away. She gripped onto the handle of the frypan sitting on the draining rack from their breakfast, her gaze on the shadow moving in the reflection.
‘You changed your hair.’
The voice sent a chill down Jannette’s spine and she swallowed. The voice was eerily familiar and she searched her mind for where she knew it from. The shadow stepped forward again. He was close to her. But she could now see his face in the reflection. It didn’t take her long to recognise where she knew him from. She’d been on a date with the guy—damn those dating apps. It hadn’t been a good date, either, if she recalled correctly. He’d been a little boring and had something about him that had made her uneasy. She supposed she had every right to feel uneasy around him considering he was currently in her kitchen.
She kept her eye on his reflection. What was his name? It started with S, from memory. Spencer? Sian? It was something odd. The kitchen light glinted off something in his hand and terror spread through her as she noticed he had a knife. She swallowed again as she realised that Shannon had absolutely no idea. Would he come back to the house after milking and find her dead on the kitchen floor? And where was Sparky? She realised now that the border collie hadn’t come out to greet Shannon when they’d got home. Perhaps he was already in the milking shed. That had to be it. This guy couldn’t be so heartless as to do something to a dog, would he?
As the man drew closer, she gripped harder on the handle of the frypan, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had to fight. She ha
d to survive. She had to do it for her child. Suddenly his name came to her.
‘Salvador,’ she whispered.
She saw him pause in the reflection and heard him stomp his foot. ‘It’s Salvatore, damn it. You never did get it.’
With her determination set and her stalker close enough to strike and slightly distracted, she swung the frypan towards him, catching him by surprise, but not enough for him to make a move before she connected.
He stepped back and she tried her best to get him on the backswing. She could feel the simple movements draining her already tired body even more. Her backswing missed him again but connected with the cup of tea she’d half made, shattering it with a crash. She thought she heard a weary bark from one of the bedrooms and realised he must have somehow lured Sparky out of the way. She shot out a prayer that Shannon might hear it. And that they would both get out of this alive.
Salvatore pulled his arm back, his knife aimed at her, reminding her of Xander chasing one of the kids with the hardened plastic sword. Except this wasn’t a toy. As Salvatore began his descent, she somehow managed to find enough strength to swing the frypan again, connecting with his hand and knocking the knife out of his grip. It skidded across the kitchen island bench and landed on the floor somewhere on the other side. But even though he’d lost his weapon, Salvatore’s eyes were filled with fury.
He pinned Jannette against the fridge, his grip hurting the wrist of her hand that held the frypan, pinching until she dropped it. He was too strong for her, and he knew it. She shot up another prayer that Shannon was on his way—that anyone was on their way.
‘You might be smart, Jannette, but you’re no match,’ he snarled.
He pressed harder against her and she couldn’t move an inch. Tears prickled her eyes. What had she ever done wrong to this guy? All they’d had was a single date. Hell, she’d even suspected the guy from the bank for being her stalker before she’d suspected Salvatore.
‘How did you find me?’ she managed.
She needed to distract him. Needed more time. She imagined those shows where the villain spilled all of their plans to their victim before getting caught. She hoped he wasn’t smart enough to avoid that. Oh, but he wasn’t. Not fully. His face lit up with a sinister smile, proud of what he’d managed to accomplish.
‘That picture frame you brought back here? It’s got a pet-tracking microchip in it—you remember I’m a vet, right?’
She swallowed. That’s right, the vet assistant. She remembered him properly now. While she’d thought something was off about him, she’d also thought that she was just being sceptical. She’d met some strange men through those dating apps—and also some decent enough ones, too. But she’d grown hesitant after a few duds and had known when it was time to cut them away.
‘Vet assistant,’ she said, squinting her eyes. He’d hated the fact that he was an assistant and not the vet. It was his weakness. Thank God it was the one thing she remembered from their conversation.
His eyes darkened and he shoved against her again, one of his arms pressing across her chest and making it harder to breath. ‘Shut up!’ he snarled, twisting his head like a snake about to attack its prey.
A tear trickled down her cheek, and the sick bastard he was poked his tongue out and licked it away. She turned her head, trying to get away, and forcing herself not to cry, her stomach churning. She had to be strong. For the baby. For Shannon.
‘Why wouldn’t you give me a chance?’ he whined. She choked on a sob, fighting the tears as he pushed harder. She had nowhere to go, and he was hurting her. She tried to move her leg to knee him where it would hurt, but he shoved his knee against her thigh, sending a stab of pain through her leg.
‘I’ve done nothing to you,’ she spat, lifting her chin.
‘Nothing?’ he yelled, spittle landing on her face. ‘You faked a family emergency to leave our date!’
The blood drained from her body as her mind filled in the blanks. She’d been on a date—courtesy of one of those dating apps—when the hospital had called to tell her Robbie had had an accident. He’d been flown to the Perth hospital for his surgeries. She hadn’t faked a family emergency. She’d had one.
‘Salvador,’ she said quietly, trying her best to stop the shake in her voice.
He shoved against her again, a new fury flashing across his face. ‘Salvatore!’
Chapter 17
Shannon had been in his head so much when they got home that he hadn’t even realised Sparky hadn’t greeted him as he normally did. By the time he’d got into the milking shed and the dog was nowhere to be seen, he decided he must be asleep at the shack. Sparky had his spots that he liked, and Shannon was okay with it. Right now, being alone suited him just fine.
Something had gotten into Jannette. Something had changed with her earlier that week and it was as if the final piece of the puzzle had slotted into place at the twins’ birthday party. He’d slipped up in what he’d said, sure. He’d admit that. But he’d thought her reaction odd. They’d been able to joke about the twins and other people’s kids before, but what had changed? He’d noticed something was off, but he’d thought that was thanks to all that was going on. They had been busy lately.
He slammed a palm against the gate separating him and the cows waiting to be milked. Why had he proposed a marriage of convenience? The way she’d spoken to him before, the coldness in her voice, had only reminded him that he was way ahead of her in the feelings department. She was like a drug, and he’d had a taste. And he wanted more. He wanted all of her, damn it.
But she’d had a bit of fun with him. They’d slipped from their rules for a little while, and now she was shoving those barriers back up. Wasn’t she? He’d tried to show her that he could be a good husband. He’d treated her like the most precious treasure in the world—which she was. To him, anyway. He’d even tried to show her that he could be a good dad one day. But she would be leaving him at the end of this. And he just had to face the facts and accept that.
What on earth made him think that he could marry a woman he loved and be able to let her walk away from him? The sound of hoofs pounding, nearing with each step, broke him away from the mess in his head. He met his surprise visitor at the back door of the milking shed.
‘Kenny, what’s going on?’
Kenny pulled his horse to a stop and slung himself off it. ‘That blue car we saw? It’s here. Parked behind your house.’ Shannon felt the blood drain from his body, his heart pounding in his ears as he tried to listen to his neighbour. ‘Some fella acting strange. I don’t know how long he was there before I saw him, but I came down to tell you as soon as I could since you wanted to know if I saw anything suspicious.’
Shannon put a hand up between them. ‘He’s still here?’
Kenny nodded. ‘I don’t have a good feeling about him, Shannon. I called the cops, but then I saw you and Jannette go separate ways, her to the house—’
They both looked at the house as a crash echoed across the space between them. ‘Jenny!’
Without waiting for more from his neighbour, Shannon swung himself up on Kenny’s horse and urged him towards the house. As he got closer, he heard another crash in the kitchen at the front of the house, so he headed around the back, avoiding the window, a mixture of adrenaline and rage fuelling him. He stopped the horse near the blue car that was, indeed, parked at the back of the house and slid off, racing towards the back door, relieved that it was unlocked. Being so far out of town and away from everyone, no one ever bothered locking up out here, but Jannette’s stalker could have locked it. Seemed he wasn’t that smart.
Shannon let himself in as quietly as he could, ducking into the first room on the right where the gun lockers were and pulled a shotgun from it. He didn’t know what he’d be facing, and he needed to be prepared for anything. God, if anything happened to Jannette …
He heard her voice as he neared the kitchen, each step quiet so the intruder wouldn’t suspect a thing, and felt a spark of hope
ripple through him. She was alive. And while sounding distressed, she also didn’t sound hurt. He pushed forward.
‘It’s Salvatore!’
Ah, so the intruder had a name. He kept his pace, each step measured. And as he came closer to the kitchen entrance, he propped the gun against his shoulder and his finger on the trigger, his heart pounding so hard it took everything in his power to not run in there yelling like a madman. Anyone crazy enough to stalk Jannette could just as well be crazy enough to be triggered by that kind of thing.
‘Salvatore,’ Jannette sobbed. ‘I wasn’t faking it, I promise. My brother had an accident. The phone call was the hospital—’
‘Bullshit!’
He heard Jannette whimper and he nudged into the room, his gun trained on the man who’d have a hell of a lot more to worry about than Jannette faking anything. He had Jannette pinned against the fridge, her face scrunched in a grimace, and his face too close to hers for comfort.
‘You think you can judge me and leave before our main course even arrived? Do you know the humiliation?’
Another step closer. And another. He just had to get close enough …
‘I promise you I wasn’t trying to humiliate you.’ Jannette’s voice was shaky and Shannon wondered if he had hurt her after all. ‘I’m sure you’re a nice guy.’
‘I am a nice guy!’ Salvatore was yelling now, not holding anything back. He shifted his hold on her and Shannon thought he might let her go. ‘Why couldn’t you see that?’ Then his hand wrapped around her throat, pushing her against the fridge. Shannon’s blood boiled.
‘You have one chance to let go of my wife.’
Shannon barely recognised his own voice, and Jannette’s eyes shot towards him, pleading in her eyes as she struggled for breath. His eyes prickled. How could he have let this happen? How could he have let a madman corner her like this? Perhaps he should start locking doors from now on. The man tensed, but he didn’t let her go. He did seem to relax his hold a little though, which was something.