by Cynthia Eden
A wild laugh escaped her. They’d gotten out. A loud, terrible groaning filled the air, and she watched, her eyes still streaming from the smoke and the flames, as the roof of her garage collapsed.
The deputy who’d been assigned to watch her house—Shelly knew he should be arriving any moment. He would have seen the flames. He would have called for back-up. She crawled closer to John. “You just need to hang on,” she said to him, but her voice was a croak, weak from the smoke and fire. “You’re okay.” Her hands smoothed over John’s face. Down his neck. Over his chest.
And she realized that he wasn’t okay. Because John wasn’t breathing.
Her own breath left her in a whoosh. “John?” She pushed her hands against his chest. “Come back. Come back right now. Do you hear me? Come back—”
“Aw, Shelly, sorry, sweetheart, but the dead don’t come back.”
She stiffened at that voice, the low, amused rumble that had come from right behind her. A rumble that was familiar to her because she knew the speaker. She’d known him for years. He was a friend, almost like family. So close. Slowly, her head turned.
And her brother’s partner, Devin Donley, smiled at her. “It was very impressive to watch you fight so hard to get him out. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was actually hoping the roof would cave in on you both. Save me a ton of trouble. But I have to give you credit for not giving up. You fought like hell, and you managed to get him out.” He lifted his hand, and she saw the gleam of a knife’s sharp blade. “Your death in the garage would have been easy enough to explain. Not like they’ve got top notch arson investigators up here. An accident on a cold night. Sad, but shit happens.” He sighed, a long and dramatic sound. “Now, though, things are going to have to be different.”
John wasn’t moving. Wasn’t breathing. She was on her knees beside him, and the snow had soaked her jeans. She rose, legs shaking, as she stared at the man she’d trusted for so long. A man who shouldn’t be there. “Y-you were in Atlanta.”
The fire raged behind him.
“No, I’ve been here, the whole time.” His smile vanished, and his handsome face twisted with rage. “Trying to finish you off, but the fucking hero kept getting in my way.”
Devin was the one who’d attacked them? Devin?
“The hero’s dead now.” He took a menacing step toward her. “So that means killing you should be a breeze. So why don’t you just be a good girl and come a little bit closer…”
“Fuck you,” Shelly cried, the words a rough rasp as they broke from her. Then she ran, she rushed away from him and headed toward the driveway. She just had to get to the road. Had to find the deputy who was watching her place. If she could get to him…
“Shelly!” Devin screamed after her. “There’s nowhere to run. No one to help you!”
She didn’t stop. She just ran faster.
And Devin’s laughter followed behind her.
***
Shelly was absolutely fucking adorable. She was running away, leaving giant tracks in the snow for him to follow. Acting as if she still had a chance.
She didn’t.
Shelly thought a deputy was waiting down the road. He knew what she intended to do. Get to the deputy. Get help.
But the deputy was long gone. He’d already taken care of the fellow.
He’d eliminated all of the obstacles in his way.
Devin glared down at John Smith’s body. He’d killed that bastard once before. Or at least, he thought he had. “This time,” Devin muttered, “let’s just make absolutely sure.” And he drove his knife into John’s heart. Shoved it down with all of his strength.
John still didn’t move.
Devin stared at John’s face. “Told Charles you were too close to Shelly. It’s those fucking eyes of hers. Dark and deep. Sexy as shit.” He yanked the knife back. Saw blood drip from the edge. “At least you got to fuck her this time.” He stood to his full height. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to make it quick for her. I always had a bit of a soft spot for Charles’s little sister.” Smiling, he turned and began to run after Shelly.
He did enjoy a good hunt.
Chapter Ten
Her feet sank into the snow, but Shelly trudged on as fast as she could. She knew where the deputy’s car was stationed—Blane had told her exactly where the guy would be. She just didn’t understand why the deputy hadn’t already come rushing to help her. He must have seen the flames.
She’d run to get help from him—and she’d also run so that Devin would follow her. If he followed her, then he’d leave John alone. John could do—well, whatever the hell it was that he did when he came back from the dead. And you have to come back, John. She wouldn’t let herself think of anything else. He would come back. She couldn’t lose him.
She rounded the curve, lungs aching, a stitch cutting into her side, breath heaving, and she glimpsed the back of the deputy’s vehicle. The moon hung in the sky, surrounded by glittering stars, providing enough light for her to see the cruiser. The vehicle’s bumper was positioned just behind the row of trees. Shelly risked a fast glance over her shoulder.
Devin. He’s coming.
She pushed herself faster, lunging through the snow. Her hands slapped against the side of the driver’s door. Through the slightly foggy window, she could see the deputy sitting inside. “Help me!” Why wasn’t he getting out of the car? “Help—” She yanked at the handle.
The door opened. The vehicle’s interior light immediately brightened the car. She saw exactly why the deputy hadn’t helped her.
Blood soaked his chest. His eyes were closed. Her hands flew over him, going to his neck, and she felt the faintest beat of his pulse beneath her touch. Still alive. For the moment. She dove across him, grabbing for the radio in the car. “Help, help!” Her voice was too rough and weak. She cleared her throat, tried again. “This is Shelly Hampton and—”
Nothing was happening. She tugged on the radio’s wire and realized it had been sliced apart. Furious, she threw the radio against the dash. Her hands slid over the deputy’s body. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to him. “I need your gun. I’ll get the gun and then I’ll help us both—”
“Looking for his gun?” Devin called out. “Don’t waste your time. I’ve got it.”
He was still a few feet away. She looked back at him. Then she jumped fully into the car, yanking the door shut behind her. She locked the doors with one fast press of a button, and Shelly had to crawl over the deputy’s slumped form, apologizing all the while. But at least she’d just bought a little time. Now she could find the keys. She could drive—
A gunshot fired into the passenger side window. Glass exploded, and Shelly screamed.
Then Devin’s hand was shoving through the broken glass. He unlocked the door, and she kicked him, pounding at him so that he’d get back. But he just caught her kicking legs and dragged her out of the car. Her head hit the ground and for a moment, Shelly saw stars.
When the stars faded, Devin loomed over her.
“Why?” Shelly demanded. Why was he doing this? She’d trusted him. Her brother had trusted him.
“The oldest reason in the world, Shelly sweetheart. Money. Guess who will get everything now that you’re gone?”
She wasn’t gone, not yet. “S-someone will…figure it out.” He’d left a trail of destruction at her cabin. There was no way that people would just think—
He bent down in front of her. He’d tucked the gun into his jeans, and he once again held the knife in his hands. “No one will figure anything out. You see, I didn’t do any of this tonight. I’m still in Atlanta. Got a dozen witnesses ready to swear to that fact. Of course, I paid those people, but what the hell ever, right?” He slid the knife’s blade beneath her chin. “I didn’t do this,” he said again. “When Sheriff Blane finally gets here and finds your dead body, when he finds the dead deputy…”
The deputy isn’t dead yet. But she clamped her lips together and didn’t say a word.
“He�
�ll think your lover did the job. John Smith. After all, the guy always was a freaking psycho.”
“S-says the man with the knife at my throat.” The cold was making her shiver. The cold and the terror.
Devin laughed and hauled Shelly to her feet. “I served with John, back in the day. Did you know that? I’m the one who recommended him to your brother. Knew I’d be able to keep tabs on him, and I understood how he worked.” The knife bit into her throat. “But the guy went fucking wild for you. Couldn’t believe that shit. The untouchable iceman had fallen in love with a girl he hadn’t even talked to. Fucking hell. Then he had protective instincts times damn one hundred. He started edging too close to the truth. Getting too suspicious. He had to be eliminated.”
The truth…“You killed my brother.”
“Did I?” Devin laughed. Then he pushed her up against the side of the deputy’s car. The knife was right over her jugular. “This is how the scene will play out. You’re going to die. But not here, I can’t have the blood spilling here because that won’t mesh with the story I’ve got planned. I’m going to take you back to your lover. You’ll die right next to him. Because, see, Sheriff Blane will tell the world that John killed you. John’s prints will be on the weapon…”
She realized that Devin was wearing gloves. He’d just slid the fingers of his left hand over her cheek, and she’d felt the leather against her skin.
“Don’t worry, though,” Devin added. “You fight back in this scene. You stab your lover. Unfortunately, in the end, you both die.”
“Blane won’t believe…”
“He’s a small town, hick sheriff. He’ll have his bad guy wrapped up in a bow. End of story. End of you, Shelly.”
She had to get away from him. “I’m not going to walk with you back to the cabin.” Her words ripped out. “You think I’ll just follow along meekly to my death?”
“No, I figured I’d just knock your sweet ass out.” He pulled back the knife. Shoved it into a sheath on his belt. His hand fisted and—
She kneed him in the groin. As hard as she could. Devin bellowed, his hand flying out, but she ducked and raced by him. The trees were up ahead. Maybe she could get a branch and use it as a weapon. Maybe she could—
He tackled her. They both hit the snow and she sank into it, sliding down into the cold. He crushed her, using the weight of his body to hold her down. Devin, the man who’d been her brother’s best friend. The man who’d gone to countless dinners with her. The man who’d taken her and her brother out to ball games, to concerts, to—
He flipped her over in the snow. One of his hands was at her throat. The other had drawn back into a fist. “It’s better this way,” he told her, and his voice was gruff. “After this hit, you won’t feel a thing.”
She clawed at the hand around her neck.
“And I won’t have to look into your eyes when I kill you.”
She tried to speak, tried to gasp out his name, but couldn’t.
His fist flew toward her, but…but it didn’t make contact.
Because Devin’s fist had been caught, barely an inch from her face. Eyes wide and terrified, she stared up—at John.
“No one kills her.” John’s fingers surrounded Devin’s. He squeezed, and Shelly heard the snap of bones. She knew John had just crushed Devin’s hand as the other man screamed in agony.
Then John was jerking Devin off her. Wrenching the guy to his feet and Shelly was sucking in a desperate gulp of air. Her throat burned, and she put her hand to it—a hand wet from the snow.
Devin took a swing at John, but John easily dodged the move. Then his fist slammed into Devin’s nose. Crack. Blood spurted down Devin’s face.
“You sonofabitch,” Devin snarled. He yanked out his knife. Held it tightly in his hand. “What the fuck happened? Did I miss your heart? How many freaking lives do you have left?”
John had circled so that he stood in front of Shelly. “More than you do,” he snapped back. “You’re dying. You were a dead man the minute you went after her.”
“Playing the noble card? That shit doesn’t work with me. I know you, John. You wanted to fuck her from the first moment you saw her. Your MO…use ‘em, and walk away. So why don’t you do us both a favor…walk. Right now. Forget this night. I’ll make it worth your while, man.” Devin’s words came out fast as he shifted from foot to foot. “Look, just calm down a minute. It’s me. Your old buddy, Devin. We’ve been through some rough shit together—”
“You tried to kill me.” John’s voice was a lethal growl.
“That was a mistake.” Devin gave a nervous laugh. “I’m not looking to kill you now. I’m looking to offer you a deal. Five hundred thousand dollars. To just turn your back and forget this night. To forget her.”
Shelly was on her feet and looking for a weapon. She spied a heavy branch a few feet away, and she scrambled for it.
“I’m sorry about what happened before, but you were in my way.” Devin’s words were still coming too fast. “The bodyguard gig is long over, you should have stepped down. But, shit, you just got too hooked on her, didn’t you? Look, I know you fucked her already. You did the deed, now walk. I’ll give you so much money that—”
John didn’t give him a chance to finish. He lunged for the other man. Their bodies collided with a heavy thud, and then they were crashing into the snow.
Shelly grabbed the branch and ran toward them. “John!”
But John was already rising to his feet. Brushing the snow off his body. And staring down at Devin. Devin…who had a knife sticking out of his heart.
“See how you like it when someone carves into your chest.” John’s shoulders heaved. “Only your ass won’t be coming back.”
Shelly stared at Devin. His fingers were pulling at the handle of the knife—the same knife he’d planned to use on her. But he couldn’t get the blade out and his body shuddered. His eyes—rolling, wild—found hers. “Sh-Shelly…”
She still held the branch, gripping it as if her makeshift weapon were a baseball bat.
But Devin didn’t get to say anything else. His breath rushed out, and his body stopped shuddering. Devin stilled.
She didn’t move. She gripped that branch, and her fingers were absolutely numb as she held it close.
“Baby?”
Her head whipped up. John was gazing at her. John…alive. Strong.
“Are you okay?” John asked carefully.
She dropped the branch. She threw her body against his, and she held him as tightly as she could. “I was afraid you weren’t going to come back!” And she’d been freaking terrified. “I got you out of the fire, but then you weren’t moving. You weren’t breathing. Devin was there, and I wanted him away from you. I wanted you to come back and I—”
He kissed her. Crushed his mouth to hers and pulled her even closer to his body. There was desperation in his kiss. From him. From her. Adrenaline and fear crashed through her body, and she just held on to him. In her mind, she kept thinking…Alive, he’s alive. John’s alive. Everything is going to be okay. Everything—
“I’m alive,” he gritted out against her mouth. “Death won’t keep me from you.” Then his arms were rubbing against hers. “Shit, baby, you’re freezing. Let’s get you back to the cabin. Get you safe and we’ll call the sheriff—”
She shoved against his arms, her eyes widening in horror. “The deputy!” Then she tried to rush around John, but he caught her in his arms, holding her against his body. “John, the deputy in the car—Devin stabbed him, but he’s still alive. He needs help!”
John let her go. They hurried back to the car. The deputy had slumped deeper into the seat. The whole car smelled of blood. John put his hands over the man’s wounds, trying to stop the flow of blood. Light flooded out from the interior of the car.
“The radio doesn’t work,” Shelly said as shivers slid over her body. She couldn’t seem to stop shaking. “I-I need to go back to the cabin and get my phone.” She vaguely remembered putting it down
before she’d gone upstairs. “I can call for help. I can—”
But John’s head whipped to the side. He stared out at the darkness. “I hear a siren. Still some distance away.”
Had to be, because she didn’t hear a damn thing.
“But help is coming, baby. It’s on the way.” He nodded to her. “You flag them down. I’ll stay with the deputy.”
Her gaze slid toward the darkness. Fear snaked through her.
“You’re safe,” John assured her. “Devin is dead.”
“He was my friend.” Her body was still trembling. From the cold? From fear? From the horror of what had just happened? She didn’t know. “He was my brother’s friend. But I think he killed Charles.”
“He won’t hurt you ever again. He isn’t going to hurt anyone else.” John was still pushing against the wounds on the deputy’s chest. “He’s gone, Shelly. You’re safe now.”
Her breath came too fast. “He said he knew you. Did you recognize him?”
John just shook his head.
And she could finally hear the faint wail of the sirens. Still in the distance. She stayed with John, trying to help the deputy, until the sirens grew louder. Closer. And when they did, when the lights swept toward them, she rushed to wave down the cars.
Soon the area was swarming with the local authorities. Blane ran to her, pulling her into his arms. “Shelly, shit, I got reports from folks half-way down the mountain. They saw the fire—”
“I’m okay.” She wasn’t, though. But a good lie was needed right then. He didn’t need to know how close to breaking she was. “We…John stopped…he stopped the man who was trying to kill me.”
John was beside her. EMTs were working on the injured deputy.
Blane let Shelly go, and he stepped back, his gaze sweeping over John. “That’s a whole lot of blood.”
John didn’t speak.
“Where is the attacker?” Blane demanded. “Where—”