Need Me

by Cynthia Eden

  “And tonight, you won’t be sleeping alone. Not tonight, not ever again. I married you, I own you.”

  She shook her head. Did the blade prick her skin?

  “And I’m going to fuck you. I gave you some time, why didn’t you appreciate that shit? I figured you’d come back to me, begging to get in my bed.”

  He was crazy.

  “You were supposed to offer yourself to me.”

  In his dreams.

  “But you didn’t, so I’m just going to take whatever I damn well want now.”

  She shoved at him, as hard as she could. Startled, Jeremy stumbled back.

  “Leaving…you…” Why were her words slurred?

  He’d dropped the knife. She picked it up and almost fell over when she did. No, she did fall. Julianna realized she was on her hands and knees, trying to crawl. Everything felt funny and the room was tilting.

  But she still had the knife. It was her protection.

  “You bitch.” His hands closed around her hips. Jeremy heaved her around to face him. “You don’t fight me, I’ll kill—”

  She shoved the knife at him. It sank into his chest. There was a wet, sloshing sound. A terrible, terrible sound. His eyes widened. Shock was there because he hadn’t expected her attack. But he wasn’t going to hurt her again. She’d kill him first.

  Julianna pulled the knife out of him. Jeremy’s hand rose, covering the wound that poured blood. She tried to scramble back, but couldn’t. Her lashes were sagging, too heavy now.

  Why did she feel that way?

  Her tired gaze slid to the wine glass on the floor. She remembered his words. Had he said he’d given her something? Had he drugged her?

  “Sweetness…” Jeremy grabbed for her again.

  And she stabbed at him with the knife.

  ***

  “Julianna!”

  Her eyes flew open. She couldn’t see anything at first. It was too dark, just like before…when she’d had red wine and a knife. Julianna swung out with her fist, punching and hitting as she fought for her freedom.

  A man was swearing and reaching out for her.

  She hit him harder and knew that she was fighting for her life. She knew—

  Light flashed on. Light from a lamp on the bedside table.

  Julianna blinked against that light, then she scrambled from the bed. Totally naked, she ran toward the bathroom, but then she froze.

  I’m not at home. Jeremy isn’t with me.

  She risked a glance over her shoulder. Devlin was in the bed. He hadn’t moved to follow her. His hand was still out, near the lamp. As she watched him, his hand rose and rubbed under his left eye. A red spot was already forming there.

  I hit him?

  “I’m guessing that was one hell of a nightmare,” Devlin murmured.

  Goosebumps covered her body. No big surprise considering the fact that she was standing there, stark naked, in the middle of the bedroom.

  Devlin slid to the edge of the bed and stood. Julianna instantly tensed.

  “Easy.” He lifted his hands in front of him. “I’m not going to make the mistake of touching you again. Just take it easy, okay? When you want me to touch you, say it. And if you want me to keep standing the hell back, I can do that, too.”

  She didn’t know what she wanted right then. She’d had nightmares before, plenty of terrible dreams since Jeremy’s murder. But those dreams usually faded when she woke and Julianna had just been left with a dark, gnawing fear inside of her.

  This time, things were different. This time, she hadn’t forgotten. This time…

  I think I’m the killer.

  What had brought the memories back? Heather’s attack? All of the fear she’d felt recently? One of the dozen shrinks she’d spoken to after being arrested had told her that her memories of that night could come back, provided she had a strong enough trigger.

  The cops had wanted to lock Julianna up from the beginning. The Press had said she was guilty. But she’d been so sure that someone else must have come into the house and murdered Jeremy.

  Sure, the evidence had shown her prints on the knife. Jeremy’s blood had been on her clothes but…

  But I thought there had to be another explanation.

  She’d thought wrong.

  “I’m sorry,” Julianna told Devlin. Her lips felt numb. No, her whole body did.

  He frowned at her. “For what?”

  “H-hitting you.” She’d been fighting blindly. She’d never meant to hurt him, but she had.

  “Forget it.” He didn’t come any closer, but his eyes were blazing with emotion. “You were having a nightmare.”

  Julianna shook her head, then she stopped, realizing just what she’d nearly confessed.

  “You weren’t having a nightmare?” Devlin asked, cocking his head to the side.

  No, the past wasn’t a nightmare. It was reality.

  She grabbed for her clothes. She could feel the weight of Devlin’s gaze as he stood there watching her. Watching, but not touching. Keeping his word.

  In seconds, she was dressed. She wondered if he saw the tremble of her fingers. Julianna knew she had to tell him something. She couldn’t just run off in the middle of the night.

  She also couldn’t just stay there.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  “Julianna…”

  “I have to go.” She had to figure out what to do. Spending the rest of her life in a jail cell wasn’t an option she wanted, but lying and hiding the truth? Could she do that forever? She turned for the door.

  “Don’t.” The one word was bit out.

  Her shoulders stiffened. In that moment, Julianna couldn’t look back at him. “You don’t really know me, Devlin. You know what you see, but that’s just surface. You should stay away from me.” He didn’t need to get pulled down into the mess that was coming. If she went to the cops, when she went to them, the media would be all over her.

  If Devlin was with her, they’d tear into his life, too.

  He didn’t need that hell.

  “Where are you going?” Devlin asked her. She heard the hiss of a zipper behind her. He must have put on his jeans.

  “Home.” The home she hated. But it would have to do, for the time being.

  “And how are you getting there? Dammit, let me help you! You hired me to—”

  “I don’t need a bodyguard any longer. My stalker is in jail.” She had to get away from Devlin. If she told him the truth, no, she didn’t want to see the way he’d look at her. He’d worked hard to get away from the crimes in his past. “I’ll call a taxi, and I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re not fine.”

  No, she was shaking apart on the inside. “Good-bye, Devlin.” Because it had to be good-bye. She wasn’t any good for him.

  She was a killer.

  Julianna walked out of that bedroom and left him behind.

  ***

  What. The. Fuck?

  Julianna had left him. No, not just left, but straight up run from him. In the middle of the damn night. She hadn’t even looked at him. When the cab had arrived, she’d rushed outside and that had been it. No more good-byes, no more nothing.

  Devlin stood outside, watching the tail-lights of that taxi as it disappeared. He was still in his jeans and the t-shirt he’d grabbed and snow fell down on him. His toes were quickly growing numb out there, but he didn’t care.

  Something was wrong with Julianna. Very, very wrong.

  She’d been on fire in his arms just two hours before. She’d been warm and trusting in the aftermath, holding him close, letting down all of her defenses.

  He’d slept with her in his arms, and he’d felt more at peace right then…hell, he’d had more peace in those moments than he’d had in too long to remember.

  Her voice had woken him. A fitful whisper. “Leaving you…” He’d understood those words. Then she’d muttered something else. Something about her bags. Had she said they’d been packed?

  The tail-lights we
re gone now. He turned and headed back into his house. His first stop was his computer, and he pulled up every single file he had on Julianna…and on Jeremy Smith’s murder.

  Yes, the cops had found her with the deceased bastard. Julianna had been unconscious when the police arrived. She’d had her husband’s blood on her. The murder weapon had been near her right hand.

  He typed in a few passwords that he shouldn’t know, and a few seconds later, he was staring at crime scene photographs.

  Devlin pressed closer to the screen as he studied the photos. There was a wine glass on the floor. Very close to the dead body. Only the top of that wine glass had been smashed. The carpeting was damn lush in that room, he’d seen it for himself. It would take more than just a stray tumble for that glass to shatter that way.

  He zoomed in on the picture. Jeremy Smith had been stabbed thirteen times. That much violence sure took one hell of a lot of rage.

  “Leaving…you…” Julianna’s voice whispered through his mind once more.

  According to her own signed statements, Julianna didn’t remember anything that happened that night, not after she’d been given a glass of wine by her husband.

  The wine was gone. Not spilled on the carpet with that smashed glass. Gone.

  Did he drug her?

  But…

  Devlin couldn’t help but wonder, had Julianna remembered more? Remember something else that had scared her? Because he knew she’d been afraid. She’d fought him so desperately in that bed, damn near breaking the heart he hadn’t realized he’d had.

  “Don’t hurt me…” A plea she’d made even before her eyes opened.

  Jeremy had hurt her, though. Again and again.

  Devlin pulled out his phone. He hesitated, then called the one person he thought could help. His call was answered on the second ring. Devlin didn’t identify himself. He just said, “Julianna needs you.”

  ***

  She’d had the cab just…drive for about an hour. An hour while she sat huddled in the back, trying to get up the nerve to return home. But, finally, Julianna had realized she couldn’t hide any longer.

  She’d finally gone home. The cab pulled away even before Julianna opened the door to the Smith estate. She twisted the key in the lock and then turned the knob. The cold had her teeth chattering as she hurried inside. She turned off the beeping alarm and reached for the lights.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  The voice came from the darkness behind her. Far, far too close. She started to whirl toward that voice, but hard hands grabbed her and shoved her forward, banging her head against the nearest wall.

  She hit hard, but Julianna didn’t stay down. Not again. Not ever again. She gripped her keys between her fingers, turning them into sharp weapons, and she lunged up, whirling toward her attacker. She drove the keys at him just as hard as she could.

  He swore and jumped back. It was so dark, she couldn’t see where he’d gone. The looming shadows stretched everywhere she turned. “Stay away from me!” Julianna yelled, lunging out with her keys. But she just hit air and—

  Laughter. Cold chilling laughter came from the darkness.

  “You weren’t supposed to be here,” that low voice rasped. “You were supposed to be with the new lover. But since you are here…” He lunged from the darkness and slammed into her. She drove her keys at him and heard his howl of pain, but he grabbed her wrist, her right wrist and twisted.

  She screamed as agony shot through her.

  “Still weak, isn’t it?” He had her pinned against the door. They’d crashed back into the wood. “If I apply just a little more pressure, I bet it’ll break again.”

  She froze.

  “Like I was saying…” He laughed. “Since you’re here, I can go ahead and get rid of you now.”

  He’s going to kill me.

  She had no idea who the guy was or why he was in her home—or why he was going to kill her, but she wasn’t going down easily.

  He had her right wrist locked in his hands, but her legs were free, and he should be paying more attention to them. Your mistake. As hard as she could, Julianna drove her knee into his groin. His hold tightened on her wrist—tightened and snap.

  She felt the bone break even as he howled in pain once more and stumbled back. She tore away from him and ran—not out the front door because he was right there. She ran into the nearest room, the den. She slammed the door. Threw the lock and hit the light switch. As the bright light flashed on in that room, Julianna dragged the closest piece of furniture over to block the door. The furniture she grabbed was a big, sturdy leather chair. Jeremy’s favorite chair. She heaved and pushed and—

  The door shuddered beneath the powerful boom of her attacker’s fists. “You bitch!” He yelled. “Open this damn door!”

  The hell she would. If she opened that door, Julianna knew she was a dead woman. With her left hand, she managed to yank out her phone. Her right hand was limp, useless, and pain radiated from her wrist.

  The whole door shook. “Open. The. Door!”

  “Nine-one-one…” A voice answered on the other end of the line. “What is the nature of your emergency?”

  The door cracked.

  “There’s a man in my house!” Julianna yelled, wanting the bastard out there to know she was calling the cops. “He attacked me—hurry, hurry get here—”

  Silence. The door had stopped shaking. A long crack slid from the middle of the door all the way to the top. The sound of Julianna’s heaving breaths filled the room.

  “Ma’am?” The operator said, voice sharp. “Ma’am, are you still with me?”

  She was, for the moment. Julianna rattled off her address. “I don’t hear him now.” She inched toward the door. “Maybe he’s gone.”

  “Ma’am, I have police personnel en route.” A pause. “Are you in a secure location?”

  That crack in the door was so long.

  “I-I think so.” She leaned closer to the door, straining to hear the sound of footsteps or anything on the other side. “I think he’s gone. It’s so quiet now and—”

  “You fucking bitch…” A low snarl, one that she almost thought she’d imagined. “I’m not done with you.”

  Then…footsteps. Rushing away. The sound of the front door opening. The beep of the alarm.

  “Ma’am?” The nine-one-one operator prompted. “Are you all right? Are you safe?”

  Julianna shook her head. No, she wasn’t safe. Heather was locked up but whoever that man had been…he’d wanted to kill her. She was as far from safe as it was possible to get. “Please hurry,” Julianna whispered and then she put the phone down. She left it on because weren’t you supposed to do that? Always keep the line open or something? But she needed a weapon so she backed away. Her gaze flew to the bar. All of the wine was gone—the cops had confiscated all of the drinks there during their investigation, when they’d been testing everything to see if she might have been drugged.

  And no drugs had turned up in the wine bottles.

  But glasses were still there. Julianna grabbed one of the wine glasses and she slammed it into the side of the bar. The crash of the shattering glass chilled her. She held up the jagged edge of the wine glass, struck by a sense of déjà vu. There was something so familiar about it…

  Her fingers tightened around the stem. If that man came back, if he got through the door, he’d be the one bleeding.

  Just as Jeremy had bled. Right in this room. Just a few feet away.

  She couldn’t suck in a deep enough breath. Couldn’t calm her racing heartbeat. Nausea swirled in her stomach, probably from the pain of her broken wrist or maybe just from the terrible, gut-wrenching fear that she felt.

  She could almost convince herself that she wasn’t alone in that room. That Jeremy’s ghost was there, laughing at her.

  Laughing, the way her attacker had laughed. That cold, chilling sound.

  The alarm was still beeping. No, shrieking now. How much longer would it be before the cops
arrived? How much damn longer?

  Chapter Eleven

  Julianna’s front door was wide open, and the shriek of the mansion’s alarm blared into the night. Devlin ran up the steps and into the dark house. “Julianna!” he roared as fear closed around his heart like a cold fist. “Julianna, where are you?” After he’d made his phone call, uncertainty had gnawed at him. He’d just had to leave… he’d needed to make certain that she was safe. A phone call wouldn’t have been enough. Devlin had needed to see her.

  From what he could see right then, no, Julianna wasn’t safe. Not at all.

  “Julianna!” He hit the light switch. He’d seen it the last time he was there, a few feet away from the entrance. Illumination flooded the scene. The first thing he saw was the keys. They were just tossed on the floor. He frowned at them—the keys meant Julianna was there—then his gaze shot around the house.

  When he saw the door, a door that appeared to have been fucking pounded by someone, his heart seemed to stop. “Julianna!” This time, her name was a roar as he raced to that door—the door that he knew led into the den. He grabbed the knob, but it was locked. “Julianna, are you in there?” He lifted his leg and slammed his foot into the door, aiming for the lock and doorknob. He’d bust that damn thing down and get to her.

  He heard sirens outside, the cry still distant but coming closer. He lifted his leg and kicked again and—

  “Stop it!” Julianna’s cry. High and desperate. “Leave me alone! The cops are coming! Just leave me alone!”

  “It’s Devlin.” He stopped kicking that door. He put his hand on the cracked surface of the wood, wishing that he could be touching her. “Baby, it’s me. Open the door for me.”

  “D-Dev?” Then there was a gasp and a thud.

  “Julianna!” She was scaring the hell out of him.

  The door knob turned and she swung open the door. She had a broken wine glass in one hand. She didn’t reach out to him, just stood there, her body trembling. “He said I shouldn’t be here.”

  He grabbed her in his arms and pulled her close. She was warm and soft and alive. “Baby…”

  The sirens were getting closer.

  “H-he could still be here.” She pushed against him. “Come into the den with me. We’ll lock the door again. We’ll stay safe. He couldn’t get to me.” She was talking far too fast. “I locked the door and put Jeremy’s chair in front of it. He couldn’t get to me.”