Deadly Past
Page 18
Her heel connected with something. Behind her, Tom Coventry howled in pain as she lunged forward. He should have bound her legs too.
With her hands tied, she couldn’t fight him, but she could run. She had to get to Lincoln, get help.
She sprinted through the doorway, slamming her shoulder against the frame as she ran. She bit back a cry of pain as she skidded on the hallway floor, her momentum almost too much. Instead of tumbling over the edge of the banister, she made a sharp right and stumbled toward the top of the stairs.
“You stupid bitch!” he shouted behind her.
She swore she could feel him breathing down her neck as she lurched forward, tripping on the hallway runner and slamming into the banister railing at the top of the stairs.
Her eyes widened when she saw Lincoln on top of Rand Coventry’s unmoving body. Lincoln was on his knees, his hand clutching the bottom of the stair railing as he pulled himself up. He was alive!
He looked up at her—and his expression froze. “Duck!” Lincoln’s voice boomed through the air.
She didn’t even think, just did as he said and dove for the floor, her head hitting the wood as a loud bang rent the air.
Then another.
Her whole body jerked at the blast of gunfire. She rolled onto her back, her arms straining under the ropes. Tom Coventry staggered forward, eyes wide, knife raised into the air as he fell toward her. Blood poured out of two chest wounds.
She scrambled out of the way, rolling as he crashed to the floor right next to her, impaling his knife into it with a thud.
“Autumn!”
She heard thumps on the stairs and then Lincoln was there, untying her hands and turning her over. Heart pounding, she threw her arms around him as he lifted her into his arms. “Lincoln,” she sobbed, the sound ripping out of her. She could have lost him, almost did. She could have died herself. Oh, God. This was all too much.
“It’s over, they can’t hurt you,” he murmured soothingly as he hurried down the stairs with her.
“How bad are you hurt?” He’d fallen off the damn landing! He was limping as he struggled down the stairs. She didn’t even know how he was walking.
She was vaguely aware of Rand Coventry’s prone body as they passed him on the stairs—his neck was twisted at an unnatural angle. There was no need to even check his pulse. He was dead. And she was glad.
“I’m a little banged up. How are you? Did he hurt you?” He hurried down the hallway just as his front door flew open.
Two deputies stormed in, weapons up. They immediately dropped their weapons when they saw her and Lincoln.
“Let me get her outside,” Lincoln snapped. “Secure the scene now.” The two men nodded and hurried past them.
He was walking in jerky motions as he stumbled through the door, and she realized that he might be more hurt than he’d said.
“Put me down,” she insisted as they reached the front porch. Her entire body felt numb as she tried to digest what had just happened—she wasn’t sure that she ever would.
He did and then sagged against one of the columns, the muscles in his forearm flexing with the movement.
“Oh, Lincoln.” She took him in, saw he had a split lip, his forearm had been sliced up and he had a bruise forming on the side of his cheek. He was holding on to his side and breathing seemed to be a struggle. “Are your ribs bothering you?” If she focused on him, she wouldn’t focus on the fact that there were two dead people in his house—two people who had come to kill her. Likely torture her.
“I’m fine,” he murmured, but his face was pale and when she motioned for him to sit down, he didn’t argue—which told her how bad he must feel.
Blessed sirens wailed in the distance as she collapsed next to him on the little set of stairs. Help would be here soon. The sound exacerbated the growing ache in her skull, but she tried to ignore it.
She scooted closer to him, cold snaking through her. She needed to get warm. “If you hadn’t come home, he would’ve killed me.” Her voice shook as she got the words out. She should save this for later, but she couldn’t stop talking as she grabbed his hand in hers, squeezed tight. “I didn’t even know his son was there. They… They would’ve done more than just kill me.” She knew that without a shadow of a doubt now. Clearly they’d had some sort of plan—they’d been smart enough to do something with his dental records. Now she understood why the DNA test had been corrupted—she guessed it was mixed with the body of whoever had actually been in that crash. Because it hadn’t been Rand Coventry. They must have been waiting to get her alone and jumped at the chance. Maybe Rand had been backup or something for when Lincoln arrived.
Lincoln wrapped his arm around her shoulder even as he waved off one of his deputies and ordered them to give him and Autumn space. He winced as he pulled her close. “That bastard will never hurt you again. Neither of them will.”
The tears came then, fully flowing as the ambulance screeched up to the front of his house. In that moment, her feelings for Lincoln were crystal clear. She’d been so damn afraid of losing him to violence, of losing him on the job, but her own past had come back to haunt her and had almost killed them both. Ripped them apart when they’d only just found their way to each other. “I love you.”
His whole body jerked as he looked at her, his eyes widening. Then he smiled, wincing and cradling his ribs again. “I love you too. And you’re moving in with me.”
“Sir—”
He held up a hand as an EMT she vaguely recognized hurried toward them. “Hold on,” he said as he turned to her. “We love each other, we’re having a baby together, and you’re moving in.”
“I love you, Lincoln, but you’re going to the hospital right now.” Groaning, she got to her feet and turned to the woman. “I think he’s got a couple broken ribs. He fell off the top of the stairs. He needs to be taken to the hospital immediately.”
The woman nodded as her partner hurried up with a stretcher. “You’re coming with us too. Your eyes are too dilated.”
“Yeah, I might have a concussion,” she muttered. Her head was throbbing and the adrenaline was starting to fade, but they were alive.
And Lincoln loved her back. She was never letting him go, never letting fear rule her life again.
Chapter 31
Three days later
Autumn stepped outside onto her half-built back deck, watching Easton, Lucas and two of their friends hard at work.
Lincoln stepped up beside her, unable to do any work because of his cracked ribs. Two to be exact. He shouldn’t even be up right now. He’d been resting in her living room when she’d left him.
“Pretty sure you just hurt yourself to get out of all this work,” Easton grumbled good-naturedly as he hammered a nail into one of the beams.
Autumn snorted. “You better be nice to your brother or I’m not going to order you any pizza or beer.”
Easton lifted up a hand in mock surrender. “I’m kidding! In fact, drag him inside and make him sit down. He needs to be resting anyway.” Easton shot Lincoln an annoyed look.
“He’s right,” Lucas said without looking up. “Make sure he gets his ass back in the chair, Autumn. We’ve got this.”
“I’m right here,” Lincoln muttered.
“Yeah, but you heard the doctor’s orders, come on.” She gently guided him through her kitchen and led him to her brightly lit living room and plunked him down in her favorite chair. Shadow nestled right up next to his feet and curled up beside her new favorite person.
Lincoln looked like a grumpy bear as he sat there. “This is ridiculous. I’m fine. I could go out there and help them right now.”
She made an incredulous sound. “Oh yeah, you’re super fine. The doctor was lying to you for shits and giggles.”
His mouth twitched as he looked up at her. “You’re very bossy.”
“Don’t you forget it,” she said as she leaned down and brushed her lips gently over his. She couldn’t believe she’d almost lost h
im—might have died herself. The US Marshals were rightfully upset about what happened and had taken extra steps to ensure she wasn’t in any more danger.
It didn’t look as if she was—the Coventrys were the only two people who had wanted her dead. Rand’s mother had remarried and moved on with her life years ago, apparently. She hadn’t spoken to either of them in a solid four years. It turned out that they’d paid off someone at the prison to alter the dental records because they’d known those would be checked first. That person who’d helped them? Now dead.
The reason the DNA results had been corrupted was because their DNA had been planted with two dead, burned bodies. She had no idea where the dead bodies had come from, but she was sure the marshals would figure all that out eventually. It was just dumb luck that their DNA had even been picked up for the first test. The men who’d helped Tom Coventry bust his son and that other guy out had never planned for the DNA to hold up under scrutiny—they’d just wanted to get the prisoners free and out of the country. Tom had been planning to bust his son out of jail for a while—he’d just been working on getting the right help to do it.
Tom Coventry had worked for some dangerous drug runners, helping them to hide their money—and he’d asked for a favor. He’d wanted his son out of jail, but hadn’t had the man or firepower to do it. Since that had aligned with rescuing someone related to one of the drug runners, they’d worked it so that both men would be on the same transport at the same time. They’d paid off people for that too. She was just glad that no one else was after her anymore.
He groaned. “I hate not being able to touch you.”
“You can still touch me, just not… You know.” She cupped his face, needing to touch him, to remind herself that he was okay. “Sit tight, I’m going to get you something to drink.” As she hurried to the kitchen, she couldn’t help but be thankful—for like the hundredth time—that they were both okay.
She’d been having nightmares, imagining that Rand and his father had succeeded and killed both of them. That when Lincoln and that bastard had tumbled over the railing, Lincoln had died. She shuddered at the thought.
Over the last few nights, she’d woken up drenched in sweat, but Lincoln had been right next to her. So had Shadow.
She knew it would get better, and she was going to start going back to therapy again. She hadn’t gone in years, but after what had happened, she knew she had to now. It didn’t matter that she was no longer under threat, she needed to talk some things out.
The marshals had also used their resources and discovered that the bullet from her tire had been from Mark Cadman. Something that surprised her. He’d taken a shot at her—according to his confession—just to scare her. A lie. They’d also got a match to his boot print outside her window. He was just another angry man who had decided she was to blame for all his troubles.
Unfortunately for him, once they’d searched his house, they’d found a whole lot of bad shit on his computer—he was on some fringe websites and had been planning something even Erica wouldn’t tell her about. All Autumn knew was that he’d be going away for a very long time. So she wasn’t going to worry about him again. But she was grateful that the marshals had used their vast resources to help out the Verona Bay Sheriff’s Department—and her. She knew it was out of guilt, but she didn’t care. And the cherry on top of the insanity of the last couple months, the Feds had also found those jerk bank robbers. They’d gotten too greedy and it had gotten them caught. The world felt…right again. Hell, better than her version of normal.
She stepped back into the room with a glass of lemonade and some cookies she’d made.
His eyes lit up when he saw the cookies. “I just got off the phone with Erica,” he said as she handed him the plate and set the drink on the table next to him.
“What did she say?” Autumn hadn’t thought there could be any more news at this point.
“They discovered who gave your information to Coventry. A really skilled hacker they’ve been looking for.”
She blinked as she sat across from him. “That’s great. Is he…or she, a danger to me?”
“He, and nope. He hired someone to come to Verona Bay to make sure you were really here—and the hacker turned on the man he’d hired too, so he’s going to be doing some time as well. Not that giving up the information matters for the hacker’s prison sentence. They’ve got him for a whole lot of crimes. He’s pissed off a lot of people over the years, from what Erica said. I don’t think he’ll last long in prison.” He shrugged and took a bite of his cookie.
She sat back, feeling…settled.
“So are we going to move into your house or mine?” he bluntly asked.
Surprised, she stared at him. “You were serious about that?” He hadn’t brought it up again.
“I was.” His expression reflected his intent as he watched her carefully.
“Well, your brothers and their friends are building a nice new deck here. And my house has a little more room. We could rent out yours and stay here?”
He blinked in surprise. “You’re not going to argue with me about this?”
“Should I?”
“No, I just thought I would get some pushback. Are you just saying this now because I’m injured? Is this a pity thing? Because I’ll take it.”
She shook her head, her mouth curving up slightly. He was a tad grouchy, which for some reason made her smile, seeing this side to him. It made him seem more human. “No. We’re going to be in each other’s bed every night, and I’ll be having this kiddo in a few months. Plus, you know, we love each other. It doesn’t make sense to live next door to each other in separate houses.”
The grin he gave her was a balm to all of her senses. She could have lost him so easily, to such awful violence. And she knew violence could happen at any time so she wasn’t going to worry about the what ifs anymore. They had each other right now, and she was going to hold on to him tight—as soon as his ribs healed, of course.
“You know I’m going to put a ring on your finger pretty soon.” He spoke so matter-of-factly.
“Is that your idea of a proposal?”
“No. I’m just letting you know.”
Her heart rate kicked up. The thought of being married to him was incredible, everything she’d never even known she wanted. But to be claimed by him? For the whole world to see? Her throat grew tight for a moment. “I’m not sure how to respond to that.”
He simply grinned at her. “You don’t need to. Just know that it’s coming.”
She wasn’t sure if she was glad he’d told her or not. She just knew that if he asked her, she would say yes.
Chapter 32
Christmas Day
Autumn sat in front of the Christmas tree in her—now, their—living room, waiting for Lincoln to hurry up with her hot chocolate.
He strode into the room with Shadow at his heels. Shadow had indeed become his actual shadow, following him around everywhere. It was the sweetest thing ever. He even took her to work sometimes. She’d become the unofficial mascot for the station. For a dog who had been abandoned and likely abused, she now had tons of people who loved and spoiled her.
“Thank you,” she said as he handed her the steaming mug. Now that her bump was showing, he’d gone into a sort of wildly overprotective mode, refusing to let her do much of anything. It was ridiculous and adorable at the same time. And okay, being spoiled by the man she loved certainly wasn’t a chore. She figured she’d better enjoy all of this now while she could, because in a few months, they were going to be running on no sleep. At least according to all of her mom friends.
“Can we open the presents now?” she asked, squirming in her seat on the floor. They’d be going over to his parents’ in the afternoon, but this morning was just for them, and she was enjoying every second of it.
“You’re like a kid,” he said as he pulled out a small box and handed it to her, a mischievous grin on his face.
“This wrapping is so pretty.” She ran h
er fingers over the dark crimson and gold. It was about the size of a couple books and since he knew her so well, she kinda figured it was the thriller collection she’d been eyeing at the local bookstore earlier in the week. She loved her e-reader, but there were some books she liked to keep on her shelf in print.
“You have to open one too,” she said as she leaned over and snagged a present with dog-themed wrapping paper. The dog looked just like Shadow, so she’d grabbed it.
“I will, but you go first.” He was watching her intently as he sat across from her, sipping on his own drink—coffee, something she still desperately missed.
“Okay.” She ripped into it like a savage, not bothering to save the paper because yes, she felt like a kid at the moment. So many Christmases she’d spent alone or with friends, but she’d always felt like an outsider. As if no one would actually miss her if she wasn’t there.
Right now, she felt as if her heart was near to bursting. She was spending Christmas Day with the man she loved, the father of her child, in their house as they got ready for their future. When she opened the brown box, she saw another, much smaller ring-sized box in the center of a bunch of tissue paper. And she recognized the logo of a local jeweler.
Her heart kicked against her ribs as she stared at it, not the baby this time. Just a wild, beating anticipation. She thought she knew what this was. She hoped it was, anyway.
“Open it,” he softly ordered.
Apparently she waited too long, because he plucked it from her and opened the box himself, holding it out as he crouched in front of her.
“You sweet, wonderful woman, will you marry me?”
“Yes.” She didn’t have to think, didn’t have to second-guess herself. No matter how many times he asked, she would say yes every time.