He reached around her and cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers. She thrust her chest into his hand and her head back onto his shoulder.
“Travis.” His name became a hiss as he plucked the stiff bud.
“Come on, darlin’,” he said into her ear.
“Travis.” Her voice hitched at the end and she squeezed his hand even tighter.
Bliss made some sort of sound and her body tensed, rippling with pleasure. Her mouth worked silently, her head tossing back and forth on his shoulder.
He let go of the tenuous hold of control and surged into her. Bliss leaned over the dresser, up on her tiptoes while he pumped in and out of her body, losing himself in her sighs, her scent, everything about her. She made him whole in a way he’d never experienced before.
His balls drew up, and the wave of release swept up through his body. He thrust once, twice more, and then leaned over her, burying his face in Bliss’ hair and squeezing her to his chest while the tremors ceased.
Now, all he had to do was convince her to let him stay. To give him a second chance, and to love him. Another screw up, and he’d lose her. He wasn’t willing to make that mistake again.
Travis kissed her shoulder and straightened. He missed the feel of being inside of her immediately, but if they worked things out, maybe they could be together. And not in the temporary sense.
Bliss remained slouched over the dresser, eyes closed and her body glistening with a light sheen of perspiration.
She was perfect.
He bent and picked her up. This time she didn’t squawk in protest, though she did tense up for a second.
“Your shoulder,” she mumbled.
“Flesh wound.”
He carried her to the bed and lay down with her, too spent to do more than hold her for the moment. What they shared was more than an orgasm and a couple hot, sweaty moments. It ran deeper than that. At least it still did on his side. He had to hope her feelings for him hadn’t changed, though maybe he was reading into it. He didn’t have a lot of experience when it came to loving someone.
“Hm, I still don’t know.” She traced shapes against his chest.
He liked the sleepy, content smile. He was pretty sure before he’d freaked out that she’d been close to telling him she loved him. Looking at her now, he didn’t think much had changed.
“Yes you do. You don’t want to admit it yet.” He traced her bottom lip.
“Oh, really?” She propped her head in her hand and stared down at him, that mischievous light shining out from inside. Nothing could snuff that out, not even a serial killer. She’d never been more beautiful to him. “What decision have I come to, then?”
Either he put it all out on the line, or he waited and bided his time.
Screw it.
He was all in this time.
“You love me.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Shit. Could he be wrong?
He took a deep breath and pressed on. Might as well lay it all out there for her. “Or, you think you might love me. Either way, I’ve decided I’m in love with you, so you should get on board with the idea.”
“Bossy.” She slapped his stomach, but not hard enough to acknowledge. “That’s not nice.”
“It’s the truth.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it.
“Wait—you’re serious?” She sat up and blinked down at him, her mouth hanging open.
“I’m not good at joking around.” He clenched the hand curled under his head into a fist. Was this a mistake? Should he have kept that to himself?
“Travis—you’re serious?”
“Yes. I’m serious. I know I screwed up, but I panicked. I think I had to so I would realize what I you meant to me.”
“I thought we just said we should take things slower.”
“That was your suggestion. I never agreed to it.”
“You love me?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I...don’t know what to say.”
She covered her mouth with one hand and her eyes got that glossy, I’m-about-to-cry look. Shit. He’d screwed up.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said and glanced at the bathroom. How long could he spend cleaning up?
Bliss leaned down and cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. Her dark hair brushed his jaw and she stared deep into his eyes.
“I think I love you, too,” she said.
THE HOURS DRAGGED ON, one by one, but he was patient. Nothing good ever came from spur of the moment decision-making. His patience and planning were why he was the best.
The cops made another round through the gated community. In the east, the sun started its trek across the sky. Soon, it would begin.
No one glanced twice at the housekeeper’s car parked in the neighbor’s shed. He timed their arrival to coincide with a gap in the security sweep. This plan was perfect. Daniel was rather proud of this one. He’d never come so close to law enforcement before. It was a little disappointing they were so bad, but then he wasn’t a common criminal. He was more than human.
A hollow thud broke the stillness.
“Please, he’s scared,” Priscilla whispered.
“He’s alive. Would you rather him dead?”
“No.”
“Then wait a while longer. Remember, you do your part, your son lives.” He jabbed the gun into Priscilla’s ribs.
“Please don’t hurt my baby.” She hunched over in the driver’s seat.
“Shut up. Stop crying.”
Damn woman was going to blow this whole thing by bawling. It was fucking frustrating that his entire plan hinged on one worthless creature playing her part. Hopefully the cops chalked her odd behavior up to nerves. Out on the street, the same late model truck rolled by. Again.
“Go on, before anyone else wakes up.”
Priscilla started the car and eased it around into the alley behind the expensive homes. They went about fifty feet before turning into the utility entrance of the house everyone was watching.
Just a few more minutes, and Wendy would be his.
6.
Wendy rinsed out the bottle and stuck her tongue out at Paul, who was already drifting off to sleep.
The house was quiet, caught in the drowsy hours between when most people were asleep and when they headed out for their day. It was the perfect time to get a few things done before everyone woke up.
She opened the fridge and frowned. They had practically nothing to feed the masses currently residing in her home. Priscilla was picking up the groceries, but Wendy hadn’t made a list of everything she wanted between all the activity last night.
“Utility room door open,” the security system announced.
Wendy turned and listened to the light footsteps and crinkling plastic.
“Priscilla! You’re early. Here, let me help.” She rushed to the housekeeper’s side and took one of the heavy bags.
It felt good to be the woman of the house again, with things to do and people to feed. When was the last time she’d cooked a meal that didn’t need to be microwaved?
“Is there more, or is this it?” She took a few cold items out of the bag and placed them in the fridge.
“There’s a lot more still out in the car. I can get it.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m going stir-crazy stuck in here.”
Plus, poor Priscilla was looking a little worn.
“You don’t have to,” she said again.
“Come on. Let’s go.” Wendy grabbed her coat from where she’d tossed it over the back of one of the stools last night. She glanced at the officer sitting silent sentinel on the sofa, his phone pressed to his ear. The officer had spent most of the morning trying to get a hold of his ex-wife and children. Wendy’s heart went out to him. “Mind watching him for a minute? He’s falling asleep, so he shouldn’t bother you.”
“Not at all, ma’am.”
“Thanks. We’ll just be a moment.”
“Really, you should s
tay in here.” Priscilla was showing her overprotective streak, which was one of the reasons she was so valuable to their family.
“Don’t be silly. Come on.”
Wendy exited through the utility room and zipped up her coat.
“How’s Carlos?” she asked.
“He’s under the weather. Are you still wearing those tracking things?”
Ah, a sick child. Wendy had seen Priscilla come to work exhausted and worn out after dealing with her stubborn child. The boy was going to be a hard-headed man someday.
“Grayson made me sleep with that silly thing on.” She wrinkled her nose. The device might be small, but she was going to have a bruise of it imprinted on her skin. “Maybe you should take the day off, take care of him?”
They walked around to the second driveway designated for staff and utility vehicles. Priscilla’s sedan was parked on the far side of the slab that could accommodate up to three vehicles.
That was odd, but then again, who knew where the cop cars were and when?
Wendy circled around to the back of the car and waited for Pricilla to open the trunk.
“I’m sorry, miss.”
“What?”
Priscilla stood a few feet away, hands down at her side and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. The trunk rose on well-oiled hinges.
“What’s wrong?” Wendy glanced at the trunk at the same moment she heard a car door open.
Carlos stared up at her, tape wrapped around his mouth, his eyes open wide.
“Wendy, so nice to see you again.” Daniel pointed a gun at her and smiled.
“Oh, my God.” Wendy gulped, her whole body freezing.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was at home. Safe. There were dozens of cops all around.
It had to be a dream. She was asleep in her bed. Any moment now Grayson would shake her awake.
“Get in the car, Wendy.”
She took a step back and ran into Priscilla, who mumbled the same words over and over again, “I’m sorry.”
Wendy wasn’t getting in that car. She wasn’t going back to that cave. She couldn’t.
She sucked in a deep breath.
Daniel moved first. He grabbed Wendy with his left hand, jerking her against him.
“Please, you said you wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Priscilla said. She was full-on crying now, her hands outstretched toward Daniel.
Run! Run, Wendy wanted to tell her, but her voice was frozen.
“Priscilla—”
Daniel shifted and pushed her up against the car. She caught a glimpse of him lunging at Priscilla before Wendy squeezed her eyes shut. That gurgling sound, it brought back blood-soaked memories of what he’d done to the two men right in front of her.
Oh God, that was Priscilla...
BLISS JOGGED DOWN THE stairs. She couldn’t stop smiling. Her sister was going to have a lot of questions. She was pretty sure the whole house had heard them last night. But first, she needed food. She’d always known sex burned calories, but after last night and this morning she might waste away if she didn’t get something in her soon.
An officer stationed in the den had the TV on, watching the morning news. It was otherwise quiet and peaceful. Two bags of groceries, and Paul, sat on the kitchen counter.
That was...odd.
She paused and listened for sounds from the pantry or maybe the bathroom. It was totally out of character for Priscilla to leave Paul unattended. When the sitting service wasn’t there, the baby’s care usually fell to the housekeeper, and she took her job very seriously.
“Wendy? Priscilla?”
“They’re carrying in the groceries,” the officer said without glancing her way.
“What’s wrong?” Travis said right behind her.
Bliss shook her head and looked up at Travis. Something was wrong. Really wrong. “Priscilla wouldn’t let Wendy set foot out of the house, not after that talk with Ryan yesterday. And she wouldn’t leave Paul sitting on a kitchen counter.”
“How long ago did they leave?” Travis asked. He was already reaching for his gun, which she hadn’t even noticed.
The officer sat forward and frowned at his wrist watch.
“Five minutes ago?” he said.
“Shit.”
Bliss sprinted for the utility room door, but Travis caught her, jerking her back against his chest.
“Stop. Stay here.” He pushed her into the kitchen as the officer slid past. Both men were armed and on edge by the time they exited through the utility room door.
Logically, she understood why she should be inside the house. If she went out there, she was at risk. But what if Wendy was gone?
Screw this, they were not going out there without her. It was her sister who was in trouble.
She followed maybe a dozen feet behind the men. Every fiber of her body was on alert. The breeze whipped her hair around her head, making it hard to see.
“God damn it,” Travis said, then rushed ahead of them.
“We have a body at the utility entrance,” the officer radioed.
A body?
Bliss stumbled to a stop at the corner of the storage shed. She reached out and braced a hand on the building, gasping for air, unable to look away from the scene.
Travis knelt next to Priscilla’s prone body. Her limbs were twisted at an unnatural angle, as if she had fallen and not tried to get up or protect herself. A puddle of dark liquid spread out around her on the concrete.
“Hang in there. Priscilla? Look at me,” Travis said.
She was alive?
Bliss sprinted the last couple of steps and went to her knees next to Travis. Her stomach revolted at the sight of the ugly, thick slash across her throat and up the side of her face.
“Oh, my God, Priscilla.” Bliss sobbed, horrified and sickened by the sight. Priscilla might be their housekeeper, but she was also a friend. Someone who loved and cared for their family.
Travis grabbed Bliss’ hand and put it in Priscilla’s.
“Hang in there, we’re here with you,” Travis said. He smoothed her hair out of her face and never once shied away from looking at her.
Priscilla opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
“No, no, don’t try to talk,” Bliss said. She leaned down, just as close as Travis. “We’re getting help, okay? Hang on.”
She glanced at Travis, but his face was grim.
Where was the help? Why weren’t they there yet?
“Look at her,” he mumbled.
Bliss stared down at Priscilla. Her eyes were dilated, the pupils huge. The grip on Bliss’ hand went lose and a breath hissed from between Priscilla’s lips.
Was that...?
Bliss sat in shocked silence for several seconds.
Oh God, she was dead.
Priscilla was dead.
And Wendy was gone.
Bliss sat down hard and stared at her hand. Priscilla’s blood stained her fingers.
“Why did you do that?” she said. “She needed help.”
“That’s a couple pints of blood. He didn’t miss her throat this time like he did with Don. He made sure to kill her. At least she didn’t die alone, Bliss. That’s something.”
“What the fucking hell?” Connor stood over them wearing track pants and a hoodie. “Who was watching those cameras?”
Three other officers circled them, guns out.
A radio crackled.
“They’ve got a visual,” one announced.
Officers and agents ran this way and that, but Bliss continued to sit there, staring at another casualty of Daniel Campbell’s obsession.
“Bliss, you need to get inside.” Travis grasped her by the shoulders.
“But what about Priscilla?” She blinked up at him.
“Think about Paul right now, okay?”
How could she, when Wendy was gone again?
“What’s going to happen to Priscilla? She has a son.” She let Travis pull her to her feet. She glanced over her shoulder, unable to sto
p looking at Priscilla, willing the woman to get up. But she didn’t.
“They’ll call the coroner to come pick her up. We need to move so the cops can do their job.”
He guided her inside and stood guard while she washed her hands in the kitchen sink. The house was abuzz with activity now. Officers strode back and forth, agents on the phone.
“Bliss—we just heard.” Her mother and father rushed into the kitchen, elbowing Travis out of the way and surrounding her. They meant to be comforting, but their nearness suffocated her.
“They’re following him now,” Travis said.
“You should leave,” Bliss’ father said, scowling at Travis.
“What good are you?” Bliss’ mother wheeled on him. “You were supposed to keep my daughter safe. Now she’s gone again, because you couldn’t protect her.”
“Mom, Mom.” Bliss held onto her mother, wrapping her arms around her. “It’s not Travis’ fault.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll go.” Travis backed away.
The man Bliss loved. This was a shit way of introducing them.
Paul chose that moment to let out a big wail.
“Oh, I know, honey, I know.” Mom scooped Paul out of his carrier and cradled him to her chest.
Wendy was gone. Right out from under their noses.
7.
Wendy huddled in the back seat of yet another car. She’d lost count around the second or third. Time blurred together. She had no idea where they were, except she could still see the casinos in the distance. All she knew was that Carlos was in the trunk, safe and unhurt.
What had Priscilla done? What had he done to her?
“We’re here,” Daniel announced.
He pulled the car under a metal carport that stretched several yards to her left. The buildings around them were warehouses, big metal structures. The street was empty of traffic or pedestrians, just them. No one to cry out to for help or report them to the cops.
She clutched her bound hands to her chest. The tracker was still there, attached to her bra strap. Priscilla had known. She’d even asked, ensuring the device was on her.
Wendy couldn’t fault Priscilla for what she’d done. If Daniel threatened her family, Wendy knew the lengths to which she was willing to go to keep them safe.
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