As Dez drove her to the lighthouse, she nibbled on her fingernails—a habit her mom had always hated. But her nerves were getting the best of her. She didn’t know what else to do but comply.
When this person discovered Dez was with her, Bree wasn’t sure how he would react. But she knew if she went alone, she’d be a sitting duck. Her thoughts battled each other, and her fear only made the war more fierce.
Bree had some decisions to make. One wrong move, and someone could die—including her. The thought didn’t make her feel better.
As soon as they pulled up to the lighthouse, Bree looked down at her phone and saw she had another text. She read the words on her screen.
I see you didn’t come alone. Go to the top of the lighthouse where there will be more instructions. If your boyfriend goes with you, Trixie will die.
Sweat sprinkled across Bree’s skin. This guy had made his position very clear. He wanted her to come alone. If she didn’t, there would be consequences.
What should she do?
Dread pooled in her stomach as she and Dez climbed from the car and walked across the sand to the door to the lighthouse. Bree could only assume it would be unlocked.
She climbed the three steps to the door and tugged. It creaked open.
Nausea turned in Bree’s stomach. This was it. The moment she had to make a decision.
She paused in the doorway and looked up at Dez.
He tilted his head, seeming to read her mind, before asking, “What?”
How could someone she had only known for a few days come to mean this much to her? It didn’t make much sense, but Bree knew whatever it was between the two of them was true, that it was real.
“You know how you have a policy against dating people you work for?” Her heart lodged in her throat as she asked the question.
A knot formed between Dez’s eyes as he nodded. “I’m aware.”
“Well . . . you’re fired.”
Before he could respond, Bree reached up and pressed her lips to his.
He stiffened for just a moment before pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. Bliss spread through her. Yes, there was definitely chemistry there. Pulse pounding, zings through the blood chemistry.
As they stepped away from each other, their gazes locked. Bree felt nearly breathless as she stared up at him.
“That was a surprise,” Dez murmured. “A nice surprise.”
Bree nodded. But as soon as she remembered the situation at hand, all her warm fuzzies cooled. She wished this was it, the beginning of a beautiful love story. But there was so much more at hand right now. The beginning might also be the end.
“I really like you, Dez.” Her voice sounded raw with emotion. “Thank you for everything.”
Before he could say anything, Bree slipped inside the lighthouse and slammed the door. She turned the lock, ensuring Dez couldn’t get inside. Regret squeezed her so hard that moisture welled in her eyes.
He pounded on the door. “Bree? What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But it has to be this way.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he called back, his voice urgent, almost desperate. “Let me go with you. Don’t let it end this way.”
She didn’t answer him. She knew she might break down if she did, that she might give in. She couldn’t afford for that to happen.
With trembling hands, Bree climbed the dark staircase. The metal steps spiraled and spiraled and spiraled until finally light from above peeked through. The hatch at the very top had been left open for her. It appeared somebody was waiting for her to come.
Her nausea grew stronger until Bree thought she might actually throw up. Would this be a poetic way for her to die? Did death at a young age ensure that she became legendary?
Bree really didn’t care about those things. She wasn’t sure why the thoughts raced through her mind now. It was nerves, she supposed. All she knew was that she really wanted to survive.
She needed to get her career ironed out. She wanted to get to know Dez better. She wanted to see justice for Emerson.
But she’d been pulled into this deadly game, and now Bree needed to see how it worked out.
As she climbed from the glass enclosure onto the metal deck that surrounded it, a tremble raked through her body. The lighthouse was out on a jetty of sand that extended into the water. On three sides, she saw the ocean raging around her. On any other day, it would be breathtaking.
Bree supposed if she died today, there were worse places to go. The flippant thought didn’t comfort her.
The wind swept around the top with surprising force. As she glanced down, she saw a pair of handcuffs had been left there.
Her breath caught. Had those been left for her? She didn’t want to know.
“Bree!” She heard Dez yell at her from down below.
She tried to shut out his voice. He would only try to talk her out of doing this. That wasn’t a possibility. She’d been left with no other choice. But why was she up here? What now?
Her phone buzzed. The person behind this obviously watched her right now and had seen Bree reach the top. She read the message there.
Livestream to your VideoStream page. Tell the world what Emerson has done to you. But first, place one handcuff around your wrist and the other around the railing. I don’t want you to go anywhere.
Maybe Bree could have handled the live video. But handcuffing herself up here? How would she be able to get down? Or maybe that was the point.
Maybe Bree wouldn’t be getting down.
She didn’t know what was about to happen. And she didn’t like it.
Chapter Thirty-One
Dez felt like he was beside himself as he stared up at the top of the lighthouse and called Bree’s name. What had she been thinking?
He didn’t really have to ask that question. He knew exactly what she was thinking. She didn’t want to see him—or anyone else—get hurt.
Bree thought this was her problem and that she needed to handle it. Couldn’t she understand that Dez wanted to carry these burdens with her?
He pressed his lips together, still trying to catch sight of her. As he did, memories flooded him.
That kiss . . . not only had it been fantastic, but it had also been goodbye, hadn’t it? She didn’t know how this was all going to turn out. To be truthful, neither did Dez.
He stared at Bree as she stood at the top of the lighthouse. What was she doing? What kind of instructions was this man giving her now?
Oh, Bree . . .
His phone buzzed. It was Cassidy. She and her guys were in place in the woods and out of sight.
Dez wasn’t sure if they would be much help at this point. Not with Bree being at the top of the lighthouse and everyone else locked out.
Just what was this guy planning?
He watched from his vantage point below. What was Bree doing? It almost looked like she was putting some kind of bracelet around her wrist.
No, that wasn’t a bracelet. It was . . . handcuffs. She was handcuffing herself to the railing. What sense did that make?
Dez didn’t know, but the bad feeling in his gut only continued to grow.
“Bree!” he called again.
She looked down but only for a moment. Then she raised her phone and turned to face it. Was she shooting a video?
Dez pulled up her VideoStream channel on his phone. A moment later, a live video started.
“This is Bree Jordan,” she said, her voice trembling. The wind hit the microphone, making it hard to understand everything being said. Dez saw the fear in her eyes, the trepidation.
“For the past six months, my manager, Emerson Platt, has been withholding my pay from me. In the meantime, he has been investing in a fictitious company that claims to be building hotels across the world. He’s sadly been underpaying his band members. He chose his own well-being over others’, which is what has led me to this moment.”
She turned the camera so everybody could see just how far fro
m the ground that she was.
Dez felt his head spin as he watched. This was dangerous, with or without the threats against her. A bad feeling pooled in his gut.
Who was behind this? Trixie appeared to have been abducted. Emerson was behind bars. Who else could it be? Bobby Dee? He was the only other person who came to mind.
Dez’s phone buzzed again. He quickly read the text from Cassidy.
We ran fingerprints from that tube of Chapstick. And we have a match.
Bree finished her video. She’d said everything she’d been instructed to say. But, before she stopped recording, she stared at the screen for a moment.
“I just want to say, I am so thankful for the people who have stood by me in the good times and in the bad.” Though she tried to stop it, her voice trembled. “I could probably count all of you on one hand, and I want to let you know how much your friendship has meant to me.”
She swallowed hard, gathering her thoughts before continuing.
“This is a hard business, a business where you never know who your true friends are. It’s become clear that most people in my life look out only for themselves. True success can be measured by the people who truly care about you—and that’s something I would have liked to work on. To my fans, your support has meant the world. Thank you for listening. I’m not sure how all of this is going to turn out. But—”
Before Bree could finish her statement, gunfire rang out.
Her phone dropped from her hands, bounced across the metal, and skittered inside the lighthouse. Bree reached for it, but the device was too far away.
Another bullet flew through the air.
Sweat covered her skin. There was nowhere Bree could go from here. Nowhere. She was out in the wide open.
Had the person behind this planned it this way?
But why? Bree had gone on camera and had shared with the world everything about Emerson. His career should be ruined. So why was this person still involving Bree? There had to be more to this. This person also had a vendetta against Bree.
But who could it be? Nothing made sense.
Another bullet hit the metal near her. It pinged, almost sounding like it ricocheted. Glass shattered on the globe of the historic lighthouse.
Bree screamed and tried to duck. But there was nowhere for her to go.
Dez yelled again from down below. He was watching all of this—no doubt in horror.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Bree didn’t want anyone to see her go like this.
As another bullet rang out, Bree continue to whisper her prayers.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Dez glanced around. Where was the gunman? Did Cassidy have eyes on him?
He couldn’t be sure. But he was certain Bree was an open target right now. The only thing she had going for her was the sheer height of the structure. If he remembered correctly, the lighthouse was almost two hundred feet tall.
Standing near the lighthouse was doing him no good. Dez could very easily become the next target. If he were shot, he’d be useless.
He needed to find the shooter and stop him.
Gripping his gun, Dez darted toward his car. It would offer a shield until he could reach the woods.
As he sprinted behind the vehicle and ducked, his phone rang. It was Cassidy.
“The shooter appears to be in the north end of the woods,” she said.
“Are any of your guys over that way?” Dez asked.
“Banks is heading that way now.”
“I’m going there too.”
“Let’s just keep praying that none of those bullets hit Bree.”
As Dez got closer, he heard Banks yell. Another gunshot filled the air. Someone let out a shout and then . . .
A man stumbled from the woods and sprawled on the ground, grasping his chest.
Was that . . . Lloyd? The man’s fingerprint had been found on that Chapstick. That’s what Cassidy had texted him. Dez shouldn’t be surprised to see him.
Banks lowered his gun, a shell-shocked look on his face. Banks had shot Lloyd, hadn’t he?
The rookie officer stood there, staring at the man, and most likely feeling stunned over what he’d done.
Dez rushed toward Lloyd and knelt beside the man. Wasting no time, he asked, “Is there something else that’s going to happen here today?”
Lloyd stared at him, his eyes wide as they latched onto Dez’s. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. But no words emerged.
“Lloyd, stay with me,” Dez ordered.
The man started to mumble something. But, before he could finish the sentence, his eyes closed. He’d lost consciousness.
Dez let out a long breath.
He looked up at the lighthouse again. He had to figure out how to get Bree down.
Because there had to be a reason Lloyd had wanted her up there.
As Cassidy rushed toward Lloyd, Dez took off toward the door.
Bree’s heart pounded in her ears. There was gunfire. Lots of gunfire.
Dez . . . was he okay? She couldn’t live with herself if something happened to him. The whole point of her coming here by herself was that she would be the one to get hurt and not anybody she cared about.
She spotted her phone and stretched her arm out to grab it. Her muscles burned.
It was no use. She couldn’t reach the device. Her arm wasn’t long enough.
Slouching on the floor, she turned back toward the wooded area in the distance. Someone lay on the ground there.
Was that . . . Lloyd?
Had Lloyd been behind this the whole time? But . . .why? Why would he do something like this? Lloyd had been her friend.
And where was Dez? Was he okay?
Bree scanned everything below her, trying to catch sight of him.
She spotted Officer Banks bending near Lloyd. Chief Chambers ran toward them. But not Dez.
At that moment, a new sound filled the air. Were those footsteps coming up the lighthouse stairs?
Dez. It had to be Dez.
How had he gotten inside? Bree had locked the door.
Someone must have had a key. It was the only thing that made sense.
Could this really be over?
Bree wanted to believe it. She really did.
But a niggling feeling inside her reminded her to remain on guard.
Chapter Thirty-Three
As Dez started back toward the lighthouse, he paused. Something wasn’t right.
Something like the fact that he hadn’t seen a gun in Lloyd’s hand. So how was the man shooting? Had he dropped the gun in the woods after he’d been shot?
He looked back to Cassidy and Banks as they leaned over the man’s body. Cassidy had her phone to her ear, no doubt calling for backup. She was probably thinking the same thing Dez was.
They were missing something.
Dez glanced around, looking for a sign of trouble. He saw nobody. But that didn’t mean the trouble wasn’t out there.
“I don’t think Lloyd was the shooter,” Cassidy called.
Dez’s stomach hardened. “Then where is he?”
Was whoever had done this on the run now? Did he think he’d gotten away with this?
Dez was torn between going after the person or trying to get Bree down. But she’d locked herself in that lighthouse. She should be safe . . . right?
He couldn’t be entirely sure.
He looked up to inspect Bree again.
Just as he did, a new figure appeared on the walkway around the lighthouse.
He squinted, trying to see who it was.
But before he could, another round of gunfire emerged, and he ran for cover.
Bree’s eyes widened when she saw someone emerge from the hatch on top of the lighthouse. She sucked in a breath, certain she was seeing things.
But she wasn’t.
“Jill . . .” she muttered.
Jill climbed up onto the walkway but remained out of reach. The smile on Jill’s face caused Bree’s insides to sque
eze with fear.
She held something in each of her hands—a handgun in one and some kind of remote in the other.
More gunfire sounded from below, and Bree instinctively ducked. Then her eyes widened. If somebody was shooting down there, then who else was Jill working with?
“You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?” Jill grinned again.
“How did you get inside? I locked the door.” Bree backed against the railing and gripped it.
“I’ve been inside the whole time. Just waiting patiently. They say good things come to those who wait.”
But . . . “If you’re in here, who else is down there?”
Satisfaction glimmered in her eyes. “I’ll never tell. I’ll have to let you and your little boyfriend figure that out.”
Bree tugged at her handcuff, wishing desperately she could slip her hand through it. “Why are you doing this, Jill? Didn’t you already get what you wanted? I thought Emerson was the target here.”
“Emerson was my main target. Thank you for all of your help in exposing his evil deeds. I didn’t know the best way to exact my revenge on him, but you helped greatly. I checked and your video already has over 100,000 views. I have a feeling Emerson will be going away for a long time.”
“Okay. You got your revenge. Why not just let me go? Why continue to try to hurt people?” Bree glanced below. “Chief Chambers, Officer Banks, Dez . . . they didn’t do anything. Can’t you call this other shooter off?
Jill’s grin widened. “Sorry. But that’s not how this is going to work. I’m so tired of being mistreated. So, so tired.”
“Who else has mistreated you?” Bree tried to put the pieces together, tried to buy herself some time. She tugged on her handcuff, wishing desperately it would come loose. But that wasn’t going to happen. Until she had a key, she was at Jill’s mercy.
Based on the woman’s body language, Jill had a plan all worked out.
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