by Nora Roberts
“I would have given her everything.” Tears slipped out of David’s eyes now, and his knife hand dropped to his side. “She would never have been unhappy with me. I settled for second best and gave Jamie everything I would have given Julie. Why should I have settled when she was finally going to divorce you? When she finally saw you for what you were. She was meant to come to me then. It was meant.”
“You went to the house that night.” Sam’s side was numb. He levered himself straight, caught his breath and prayed for the strength to step away from his daughter.
“Do you know how much courage it took for me to go to her, to give her everything that was in my heart? She let me in and smiled at me. She was doing her clippings and having a glass of wine. The music was on, her favorite Tchaikovsky. She said it was nice to have company.”
“She trusted you.”
“I poured my soul out to her. I told her I loved her, always had. That I wanted her. That I was leaving Jamie and we could be together. She looked at me as if I were insane. Pushed me away when I tried to hold her. She told me to leave and we’d forget I’d ever spoken of it. Forget.” He spat the word out.
“She loved my father,” Olivia murmured. “She loved my father.”
“She was wrong! I only tried to convince her she was wrong, I only wanted to make her see. If she hadn’t struggled against me, I wouldn’t have ripped her robe. Then she turned on me, shouted at me to get out of her house. She said she would tell Jamie everything. She said I was scum. Scum! That she would never see me again, never speak to me. I—I couldn’t hear what she was saying, it was so vile. She turned her back on me, turned away as if I were nothing. And the scissors were in my hand. Then they were in her. I think she screamed,” he said softly. “I’m not sure. I don’t know. I only remember the blood.”
His eyes focused again, fixed on Olivia. “It was an accident, really. One moment, one terrible mistake. But I couldn’t take it back, could I? I couldn’t change it.”
She had to be calm, Olivia ordered herself. Her father was bleeding badly. She had no doubt that she could outdistance and lose her uncle in the forest. But how could she leave her father? How could she run away and hide again?
She would stand, protect. And pray for help to come. “You held me while I cried for her.”
“I cried, too!” It enraged David that she didn’t understand. Just like her mother. Just like Julie. “If she’d only listened, it would never have happened. Why should I have paid for that? He’s the one who hurt her; he’s the one who deserved to pay. I had to protect myself, my life. I had to get out. There was so much blood, I was nearly sick.”
“How did you get out of the house and back home?” Olivia asked and strained her ears for a sound—heard only the thrashing of rain. “Aunt Jamie would have seen the blood.”
“I stripped off my clothes, bundled them up. I went outside, to the pool, and washed the blood off. I washed it all away. There were always spare clothes in the changing house, no one would ever notice. I could get rid of my own later, a Dumpster in the city. I went back in the house because I thought it might be a dream. But it wasn’t. I thought I heard you upstairs. I thought I heard you, but I couldn’t be sure.”
“I woke up. I heard Mama scream.”
“Yes, I found out later. I had to get home in case Jamie woke up and realized I’d slipped out. It wasn’t until they brought you to us that I wondered if you’d seen me. I wondered if you’d heard. Twenty years, I’ve wondered. I’ve waited.”
“No, I didn’t see you. I never knew.”
“It would have stayed that way. Everyone put it aside, everyone closed the door, until the book. How could I be sure? How could I know for sure that you hadn’t heard my voice, that you hadn’t looked out the window, seen my car? It ruined my life, don’t you see? I’d done everything to make it work, everything to make up for that one single night.”
“You let my father go to prison.”
“I was in prison, too.” Tears leaked out of his eyes. “I was paying, too. I knew you’d be just like her. I knew when it came down to a choice, you’d choose him. I always loved you, Livvy. You should have been ours. Mine and Julie’s. But that’s over now. I have to protect myself. I have to end it.”
He lunged toward her, leading with the knife.
It was like his dream, the dark, the trees, the murmur of rain and wind. He could run until his heart burst out of his chest and he couldn’t find her. Every rustle had him turning in a new direction, every call of a night bird was the sound of her voice.
The bone-numbing terror that he would be too late, that he would never wake up from this nightmare and find her curled against him, drove him harder.
She was somewhere in the vast, twisting maze of the forest. Somewhere just beyond his reach.
He stopped, leaning against the bulk of a hemlock to clear the tumble of his mind. The air was so thick, every breath he took was like gulping in water. His shoulder was on fire, the white handkerchief tied over the wound long since gone red.
He stood very still for a moment and listened. Was that the murmur of voices, or just the rain? Sound seemed to shoot at a dozen different angles, then swallow itself. The only compass he had now was his gut. Trusting it, he turned west.
This time, when she screamed, he was close.
Sam shoved her clear and, with the little strength he had left, drove his body into David’s. When the knife sliced through him again, he felt nothing but despair. As he staggered and fell, Olivia leaped to her feet and tried to catch him.
It happened quickly, her father slipping out of her hands, the sound of running feet slapping against the saturated ground. And the quick prick of a knife at her throat.
“Let her go.” Noah braced his feet, held the gun in the classic police grip. Fear was a hot river in his blood.
“I’ll kill her. You know I will. Drop the gun, or I’ll slice her throat and be done with it.”
“And lose your shield? I don’t think so.” Oh God, Liv, oh God, don’t move. He gazed quickly at her face, saw the blank shock in her eyes, the thin trickle of red sliding down the slim column of her throat. “Step away from her, step back.”
“Put the gun down!” He jerked Olivia’s head up with the flat of the blade. “She’s dead, do you hear me. She’s dead if you don’t do it now!”
“He’ll kill me anyway.”
“Shut up! Shut the hell up!” He nicked her again, and she saw Noah’s hands jerk, then start to lower.
“Don’t do it. Don’t hurt her.”
“Put it down!”
She heard the roar of their voices in her head, saw the decision in Noah’s eyes. “He’ll kill me no matter what you do. Then he’ll kill you. Don’t let him take someone else I love. Don’t let him win.”
Her hand closed over the cold metal eyes of the scissors, drew them out in one quick, smooth motion, then plunged them viciously into his thigh.
He screamed, high and bright, his knife hand jerking up, then dropping. She shoved her body away from his, yanking the scissors clear. Then held them out as he leaped toward her.
She heard the bullet ring out, one sharp snap. Saw the bright blossom of blood bloom high on his chest and the puzzled shock in his eyes as he fell toward her.
She didn’t step back. And she would never ask herself if she’d had time to do so. The killing point of the scissors slid silently into his belly.
The weight of him bore her to the ground. Before she could roll clear, Noah pulled her up and against him. His arms that had been so steady began to quiver.
“You’re all right. You’re okay.” He said it again, then once again as his hands ran shakily over her. “He cut you.” His fingers brushed gently at her throat. “Oh God, Liv.”
She was crushed against him again, burrowed into him. Her head went light, seemed to circle somewhere just beyond her shoulders. “I thought he might have killed you. I saw the blood and I thought . . . No!” She jerked back, her hands vising on No
ah’s face. “Daddy.”
She pulled away and stumbled to the ground beside her father. “Oh no, no, no. Don’t. Please. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Daddy.” She had nothing but her hands to press against his wound to try to stem the bleeding.
“Don’t cry, Livvy.” He reached up to touch her face. “This is the best way for me. My time’s running out, anyway. I needed to see you again. It was the last thing I had to do. You’ve got your mother’s eyes.” He smiled a little. “You always did. I let her down in so many ways.”
“Don’t, please don’t.” She pressed her face to his neck. “Noah, help me.”
“If I’d been what I should have been, what she believed I could be, she’d still be alive.”
“Don’t talk now. We have to stop the bleeding. They’ll find us soon.” Her hands fumbled with the scraps of cloth Noah gave her. “They’re looking, and we’ll get you to the hospital.”
“You’re a smart girl, you know better.” His eyes were clouding over, but they shifted to Noah. “She’s a smart one, isn’t she, Brady?”
“That’s right.” He pressed another scrap of his shirt to the wound in Sam’s side. “So listen to her.”
“I’d rather die a hero.” His short laugh ended in a racking cough. “There’s enough of the old me in here to rather enjoy that. Is that son of a bitch dead?”
“As Moses,” Noah told him.
“Thank Christ for that.” The pain was floating away. “Livvy.” He gripped her hand. “When I was looking for you that night, when you saw me, I wasn’t going to hurt you.”
“I know that. I know. Don’t leave me now that I’ve just gotten you back.”
“I’m sorry, Livvy. I wanted you to look at me once, just once, and know who I was. In the end I kept you safe. Maybe that makes up for all the years I didn’t.” His vision wavered and dimmed. “Write the book, Brady. Tell the truth.”
“Count on it.”
“Take care of my little girl. Kiss me good-bye, Livvy love.”
With tears flooding her throat, she pressed her lips to his cheek. And felt his hand go lax in hers. Her grief was one long, low moan.
Noah sat with her while she cradled her father’s body and wept in the rain.
She slept because Noah poured a sedative down her throat. When she woke, logy with drugs and grief and shock, it was midday.
She heard the birdsong, felt the sun on her face. And, opening her eyes, saw him sitting beside her.
“You didn’t sleep.”
He was already holding her hand. He couldn’t seem to let go. “I did for a bit.”
“Everything that happened, it’s all in my head, but it feels as if it’s wrapped in cotton.”
“Just leave it that way for now.”
He looked so wonderful, she thought. So hers, with his exhausted eyes and stubble of beard. “You saved my life.”
“Just part of the service.” He leaned down to kiss her. “Don’t make me do it again.”
“That’s a deal. How’s your shoulder?”
“Well, I could say it’s nothing, but why lie? It hurts like a bitch.”
She sat up, tugged up the sleeve of his T-shirt and pressed her lips to the bandage.
“Thanks. Why don’t you try to get some more sleep?”
“No, I really need to get out.” She looked into his eyes. “I need to walk. Walk in the forest with me, Noah.”
When she was dressed, she held out a hand for his. “My family?”
“They’re still asleep. Your grandparents were up with Jamie until almost dawn.”
She nodded, started out quietly. “Your parents?”
“In the spare room.”
“They’ll need us, all of them. I need this first.”
They went down the back stairs and left through the kitchen door.
“Your father,” she began. “When they found us, I don’t think he knew whether he was proud of you or horrified.” She let out a breath, drew another in. “I think he was both.”
“He taught me how to handle guns, to respect them. I know he hoped I’d never have to use one.”
“I don’t know how to feel, Noah. All these years I thought my father was a murderer, the worst kind of murderer. I lost him when I was four, and now I have him back. I have him back in a way that changes everything. And I can never tell him.”
“He knew.”
“It helps to have that, to hold on to that.” She tightened her hand on his as they moved into the trees. “I didn’t run. I didn’t leave him. This time I didn’t run and hide. I can live with all the rest because this time, I didn’t run.”
“Liv, you gave him exactly what he wanted at the end of his life. You looked at him, and you knew him. He told me that was the last thing he needed.”
She nodded, absorbing that into the grief. “All my life, I loved my uncle. I shifted him into my father figure, admired him, trusted him. He wasn’t what I thought he was, any more than my father was what I thought he was. Oh God. God, Noah, how is Aunt Jamie going to cope with this? How is she going to live with it?”
“She has you, your family. She’ll get through it.”
“I hope she’ll stay here, for a while at least. Stay here and heal.”
“I think she needs to hear you say just that.”
She nodded again and leaned against him a little. “You’re good at knowing what people need to hear.” She let out a sigh. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to come in here again and feel what I’ve always felt. But I can. It’s so beautiful. So alive. No monsters here.”
“Not ever again.”
“I love this place.” It had sheltered her, given her life. Now, she had a choice. To stay with the old, or to start the new.
She let go of Noah’s hand, turned in a circle. “But there’s this other spot, along the coast. Heavily wooded, excellent old forest with a view of the Pacific raging up against the cliffs.” She stopped, met his eyes soberly. “That’s where we should build the house.”
He stared at her while a rage of emotions gushed into him, then settled in quiet joy. “How many bedrooms?”
“Five, as previously discussed.”
“Okay. Stone or wood?”
“Both.” Her lips twitched, her eyes glowed now, as he nodded and stepped toward her.
“When?”
“As soon as you ask me to marry you, which you’ve neglected to do so far.”
“I knew I’d forgotten something.” She laughed when he hauled her into his arms. “I’ve waited a long time for you.” He brushed his lips over hers, then lingered, deepened the kiss. “Don’t make me wait anymore. Marry me.”
“Yes.” She framed his face with her hands. “Between the forest and the flowers. And soon.” She smiled at him, drawing him close to touch her lips to his cheek. “I love you, Noah. I want to start a life with you. Now. We’ve both waited long enough.”
“Steamy setting and hot love scenes.
Read it with the fan on.”
—The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
From #1 New York Times bestselling author Nora Roberts—an utterly spellbinding tale about a woman who, though battered in both body and spirit, can never lose Hope…
CAROLINA MOON
Tory Bodeen grew up in South Carolina, in a small run-down house, where her father ruled with an iron fist and a leather belt—and where her dreams and talents had no room to flourish. But she had Hope, who lived in the big house just a short skip away and whose friendship allowed Tory to be something she wasn’t allowed to be at home: a child.
After young Hope’s brutal murder, unsolved to this day, Tory’s life began to fall apart. And now, as she returns to her hometown, with plans to settle in and open a stylish home-design shop, she is determined to find a measure of peace and free herself from the haunting visions of the past. As she forges a new bond with Cade Lavelle—Hope’s older brother and the heir to the family fortune—she isn’t sure whether the tragic loss they share will unite them or drive them apar
t. But she is willing to open her heart, just a little, and try.
Living so close to those unhappy memories will be more difficult and frightening than Tory could ever have expected, however. Because Hope’s murderer is nearby as well…
“This is romantic drama at its best.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
More praise for the New York Times bestseller
Carolina Moon …
“The marshlands of South Carolina make the perfect stage for Gothic drama. The monotonous drone of insects, the live oaks weeping with moss, the dark and mysterious marshes themselves, lend a romantic, menacing atmosphere to Nora Roberts’s story….Nobody does mystery-romance better.”
—The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
“As atmospheric and unsettling as a Tennessee Williams play…. The increasingly intricate plot developments never overwhelm the human element. Roberts—again like Williams—seems disgusted only by unkindness; she treats most of her big cast with affection and compassion for their foibles.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Roberts weaves a story like no one else, and if possible, she just gets better. Carolina Moon is exceptional —a must-read.”
—Rocky Mountain News
“Roberts has firmly established herself as one of the major stars of the romance genre…. [She] develops her many characters thoughtfully, builds suspense, and gives readers a satisfying if somewhat surprising ending.”
—Library Journal
“Carolina Moon builds a commendably brisk narrative energy and pace.”
—Time
Nora
Roberts
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.