9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  "How'd this guard know she'd be at the cabin?" Daniels' voice carried clearly back to Quin.

  "That's the best part. This guy she's with, somebody named Brad, he bribed Stan to find him someplace private he could be with Cassie. He's the one who sent them up here. So when they find the bodies, the security guard gets the blame 'cause he set the whole thing up."

  Daniels laughter filled the air. "Excellent." Quin watched Daniels, noted the heavy breathing, the hitch in his step. The high altitude in these mountains he loved didn't do any favors for the older man. Daniels stopped again, rubbing his hand across the small of his back. "How much farther?"

  Baxter glanced up the nearly hidden trail and pointed. "See the smoke up ahead? That's where they'll be, all cozy and warm, relaxed. They'll never know what hit 'em."

  "Oh, I want her to know exactly who's found her. The little bitch has made me chase her for seven damn years. I want those numbers back . . . "

  A sudden cracking noise pierced the air. A barely muffled curse followed, then again sweet silence. Baxter and Daniels whipped around, their eyes scanning the area, panic evident in their movements. Quin cursed silently, watched Brad's body fall, weighed down into the snow by the heavy branch that had broken free, the weight of the snow snapping it clean off. Unfortunately, Brad had been squatting directly beneath it when it fell. Blood seeped from a nasty gash along his hairline and forehead, a rivulet flowing down to stain the pristine whiteness beneath him.

  Damn The Fates! Quin knew nature hadn't broken the branch. Interfering old harpies, trying to manipulate today's outcome to their will.

  Having been cursed by them more than a thousand years before, he had first hand knowledge of their idiosyncrasies. They didn't always play fair, disregarding a person's free will in lieu of getting the results they deemed appropriate. More than once he'd thwarted their designs and he had no intention of letting them win today's round.

  The Fates decreed Cassie would die today.

  Not gonna happen on my watch.

  Daniels and Baxter trundled up the barely discernible path, following the visible plume of smoke rising into the air.

  Dammit, what should he do? Brad needed medical attention, no telling how badly he'd been hurt. If he went for help, Cassie and Jake were on their own against Cassie's worst nightmare. If he continued on, following the two men, Brad could die.

  "Go on. I'll stay with him."

  Quin whipped around at the softly spoken words. Merena stepped closer, easing out from behind one of the larger trees. Dressed in slim fitting black ski pants and a dark green parka with a fur-lined hood, she blended into her surrounds with ease. While he'd been trailing the others, had she been following him?

  "Quin, you have to go. I'll take care of him."

  "Why are you here, Merena?"

  She smiled at him and Quin felt his already racing heart beat even faster. Her blue eyes gleamed in the bright sunlight, and the light produced a nimbus glow around her upswept blonde curls. The prettiest sight he'd seen in a long time, the twinkle in her eyes belied the danger around them.

  "I can't let the aunts win this one, so I'm going to help. Now go."

  She knelt down beside Brad, brushing the snow from his hair, careful not to touch the blood now streaking across his brow. Torn, Quin didn't want to leave but knew he couldn't stay. There was too much at stake. Two lives, two souls and two hearts would be forever divided if he couldn't stop the bloodbath Daniels and Baxter intended.

  "Be careful, Merena. I'll be back as soon as I can."

  "That's my line, isn't it Quin? You be careful. Those men won't stop without bloodshed. So go and let's end this today."

  Quin turned and began weaving through the trees, moving with a silent deadly efficiency. Reaching the crest of the trail, he turned back one last time to stare at the lovely blonde cradling Brad across her lap. He could see her lips moving though he couldn't hear the words, knew she offered comfort and compassion to his fallen friend.

  He didn't understand why she'd come back when he'd sent her away. Was this another tactic of The Fates? Didn't matter, he'd figure out soon enough what game she played.

  Heaven help her if she betrayed him.

  Chapter 20

  Cradling Cassie, she curled against him, wrapped in the shirt he'd worn yesterday. He'd had her slip it on over her Henley for added warmth. It looks a hell of a lot better on her. He spread the soft blanket across their laps after adding more wood to the fire and warmth spread into the cabin.

  Damn, he wanted this over and Cassie safe.

  He didn't like it one bit, Cassie being used as bait to draw her father and Sheriff Baxter out into the open. Understood it but understanding didn't make it any more palatable. If he had his way, he'd grab Cassie and run so far and so fast, nobody could catch them. Except she'd been running nearly a decade; no more running. No more hiding.

  Where the hell were they?

  Cassie stirred against him and made a little humming sound, but didn't open her eyes.

  Seven years, seven long, lonely years without her. Love and friendship as teenagers blossomed and grew as they'd gotten to know and care about each other. Sharing awkward first kisses, holding hands, and making love. They'd done all those things, building a relationship between two young people experiencing their first tastes of emotional freedom, the bonds of shared friendship turning to love. He'd heard the expression friends to lovers before, but never understood it until he'd started dating Cassie.

  When two years passed with still no word, it was his grandmother who'd finally had enough. She'd taken him aside, forced him to look at reality. Cassie was gone, she wasn't coming back and he needed to learn to live without her. The pain of being in Cougar Hills was too great, her memory there too strong.

  On a Saturday morning, his grandmother handed him an application form for a volunteer fire department position in a small community outside Denver. Gave him the keys to her old VW van, the address of friends in Colorado and enough money to get him going until he'd found work.

  "Do you think they're here yet?" Her voice was low, tinged with worry.

  "If they are, they'll be arrested, so don't worry."

  "I can't help it. I just can't figure out why he won't give up. What does he want from me?"

  "I want what's mine." At the deep rumble of that familiar voice behind them, Cassie screamed, jumping up from the sofa, her gaze filled with horror. Fear zinged through Jake and he sprang in front of Cassie, shielding her with his larger body.

  "I see my daughter's back to whoring for you, Stone."

  "Shut up, you sick bastard." Jake took a step forward, halting when he saw the pistol in Daniels' hand, a match to the one Baxter held.

  Baxter stood a foot or so behind Dr. Daniels, his eyes raking over Cassie, his lustful perusal taking in her half-dressed body.

  "What do you want, Daniels?" Jake forced the words through gritted teeth. Hatred for the man who'd fathered Cassie bled through his system like acid, burning away at his humanity. His hands itched to wrap around Daniels throat, squeeze the very breath from his body. Instead, helpless, he kept his gaze on the gun in the doctor's steady grip.

  "My daughter took something of mine. I want it back?"

  "What?" Cassie leaned around Jake's shoulder.

  Jake reached back, hand resting on her hip, easing his body slightly to the right so Cassie remained behind him. The instinct to protect her proved greater than his fear of a bullet. This whole time Baxter hadn't move, other than to ogle Cassie's breasts and smirk. Dangerous, yes, but Jake knew the real threat lay with Daniels.

  "Mom and I left with nothing! I barely got her out of there alive. We took the clothes on our backs and my car, which I gave away at the bus station in Austin."

  "Now, my dear, that's not true." Daniels shook his head, a solemn expression on his face. A sick perverse satisfaction filled his gaze, the depths of his dark brown eyes swimming to black. "You sucker-punched me with a lamp before you ran, which you'r
e going to pay for, by the way. Hitting your own father—you ungrateful wretched child. After everything I did for you, you knocked me over the head, stole from me, and left me for dead."

  "I knew you weren't dead. You're too evil to die."

  Jake's mind reeled. Cassie'd hit her father that night? Good girl!

  "Where's your mother?"

  "I'll never tell you. Never! She's safe and she's happy, two things she never felt living with you." Cassie spat the words at him, her nails digging into Jake's arm as she held tight to him. He patted her hip again, offering a silent atta girl.

  "It took me a while to find you—I'll find her too. She's my wife! She needs to come back home where she belongs. Everything can be the way it was . . ."

  Cassie pushed past Jake murderous fury blazing in her eyes. Jake spun about, his arm wrapping around her, snatching her to safety.

  "Shush, baby. It's okay. He'll never lay a finger on her—trust me." Jake whispered the promise softly.

  "Daniels, answer her question. What do you want?"

  "Cassie and her mother stole something of mine that night; I want it back."

  At Cassie's indrawn breath behind him, Jake glanced back over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and he read her shock, knew she realized whatever it was her father searched for.

  "That's what this is all about? A stupid watch?"

  "What watch, honey?" Jake asked, facing forward, never taking his eyes off Daniels and Baxter.

  Cassie's eyes darted around the room in a frantic search. Dammit, my backpack's in the bathroom! I need to get my gun. I need to kill the son of a bitch.

  "The night I saved my mother, after he'd," she motioned toward her father, "hit me, I fell onto the end table. Turned his back as if I wasn't even there and started toward the bathroom. Where my mother lay hurt and bleeding. I picked up the fallen lamp and hit him. Swung it like a baseball bat and clobbered him good." She mimicked her actions, mocking her father with the gestures. "Never saw it coming, did ya, Dad?"

  "Bitch."

  "Gee, dad, tell me how you really feel."

  "Enough." Jake's voice thundered out. "What happened then, Cass?"

  Cassie glared at her father before continuing. "The lamp shattered and he fell forward, sprawled out on the floor. There was blood on the back of his head, but I didn't care. I had to get mom away. There was light coming from the bathroom doorway where it was cracked open. I helped her get dressed and we made it as far as the kitchen. Got the small stash of cash she'd been hoarding, and he groaned."

  Jake squeezed her hand, urging her to continue. For once Daniels remained silent, his face a blank slate.

  "I left mom at the kitchen table and went back into the living room. Stood over his prone frame wishing he was dead. As I watched, he opened his eyes and put his hands on the floor, started to push himself up. So . . . I kicked him in the head."

  "Going to pay for that too." Her father spat the angry words at her.

  Baxter laughed, bent over, barely able to contain his mirth. "Man, I'd have paid good money to have seen that."

  "I bet you would've, sheriff. Got a couple of shots into his ribs too after he blacked out again."

  Baxter saluted Cassie with his gun.

  Cassie nodded. "The light from the other lamp in the living room glinted off his watch. His prize possession. The good doctor, working so selflessly, treating patients who couldn't pay, taking care of the sick and indigent without compensation, but he loved that damn gold Rolex. I remember when he came home wearing it, said he'd gotten it as payment for services rendered. He was so proud of that ugly thing. It was huge and gaudy and showy. Not something a small town doctor should flaunt around his poorer patients but he never took that thing off. Ever."

  Cassie rested her chin on Jake's shoulder, leaning up to whisper in his ear, knowing her father would hear every word.

  "So I stole it."

  "Where is it, daughter?

  "Better question, Dad, why's it so important? Is this what you've been after for seven years?"

  "That’s not your business."

  Cassie laughed. "Ah, I think it's definitely my business. I took the watch thinking maybe I'd pawn it along the way when things got sketchy. Mom and I hardly had any money when we ran. The bus fare alone ate up most of that. Yet here was this expensive, shiny gold Rolex, that probably cost more money than either one of us had ever seen. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it . . . at least not right away." Her voice trailed off.

  The color drain from Daniel's face at the impact of her words.

  "You sold it? Where? When?" Desperation filled Daniels voice as he took a step forward.

  Cassie stepped out from behind Jake, turning toward the fire and held her hands out toward its warmth, her back turned to her father as if he wasn't pointing a gun at her. She couldn't let him see she was terrified both her herself and Jake.

  Why the hell did I leave my backpack in the bathroom? If I could get my 9mm, this fat bastard would be so dead!

  "I remember how you'd stare at that watch on your wrist. You'd get this glint in your eyes, a far away look. Eight inches of gold and spinning dials meant more than my mother or I did. More than the good people of Cougar Hills. Why I wondered? What was so important about a watch, even one as fancy and expensive as yours?"

  Daniels brought the gun up, leveling it at Cassie. Jake started toward her. "Stop right there, Stone. Move away from my daughter."

  "Hell, no." Jake tried to block Cassie from Daniels aim but she shrugged him away, stepping clear, standing straight and tall, confronting the man who'd made her life a living nightmare when she'd lived at home, and a constant daily struggle every day since.

  No more. It ends now. No running, no hiding. Don't let him hurt you anymore. See him for the bullying little worm he's always been.

  "Every night for months I'd take that Rolex watch out of my backpack. Turn it over and over in my hands, wondering why it was so important. I looked at every single link, every dial. I even pried the back off and looked at the movement. Know what I found? Nothing. No secret compartments. No hidden messages. No reason for your fascination with a hunk of shiny golden metal."

  Cassie stretched, arms reaching above her head, back bowed. The flannel shirt she wore rode higher on her thighs, and she watched Baxter's gaze fill with lust. Good, she thought. Keep him distracted, maybe he'll make a mistake.

  "I did notice one thing though. Numbers, lots of numbers. Some letters intermixed but none of them made any sense. Want to enlighten me, Dad?"

  "Always sticking your nose where it didn't belong. Where the hell is my watch!" Her father's face blotched red, his eyes filling with a maniacal gleam.

  Just a little more, keep him off balance, maybe he'd lose focus long enough for me to make a move. Damned if she knew what she'd do but keeping him talking seemed like a good idea. Let him think she'd sold the watch, pawned it or given it away for food and shelter. Anything was better than him knowing she still had it. Carried it as a reminder—there are things more important that wealth. Her mother's life topped that list.

  "I told you, I sold it. Pawned it actually. This little shop in New Mexico."

  "You idiot. That watch means everything. Everything!" Her father took a step toward her, lifting the gun.

  Jake wedged himself between them again, shielding her.

  No, I can't let him get hurt because of me. I love him. The warmth of her love seeped into every pore of her being and she welcomed the freedom her love gave her. No more running. She'd face down the monster and she'd win—nothing and no one was keeping her away from the man she loved. Never again.

  "I might remember exactly who I sold it to—if you tell me why it's so important." She taunted.

  "Everything is tied up in that watch."

  Cassie caught movement on the edge of her peripheral vision. Behind Baxter, outside the cabin's partially open doorway a shadowy movement edged forward, stopping and moving just inches before stopping again. What is t
hat?

  "It belonged to Luis Escobar Castellano," her father continued.

  "The drug czar?" Jake asked.

  Cassie remembered that name. The biggest drug kingpin Central and South Texas ever saw. Billions of dollars of marijuana, cocaine and heroin crossed the border carried by mules working for Escobar Castellano. Even the drugs her father ran back when she'd lived at home had funneled through Escobar Castellano's cartel of corruption.

  "Bloody bastard ran everything that came across the Texas-Mexico border. Nobody moved anything without his blessing and cut of the profits."

  "He was the one supplying all your product, Pops?" Cassie's noted the pulse in her father's forehead. Good, let's get him good and riled.

  Shadowy movement caught her gaze again at the same moment Jake stiffened imperceptibly in front of her. Whatever it was, he'd seen it too. Just outside the door, Quin's figure stood and he raised a finger to his lips, indicating not to let on he was there.

  "Wasn't as smart as he thought, though." Her father flashed a pompous grin. "Remember the man at the house the day I caught you snooping? The one I rescued you from? That was Escobar."

  Cassie remembered. He'd been evil down to the bone, even as a teenager she'd know there was something off about him.

  "Always wanting more and more. Get more coke on the streets he says. Make me more money. He loved to lord it over me that he started out as nobody, dirt poor, and here I was a respected doctor and he owned me. Those were his words—he owned me." Her father stared straight at her and Cassie's skin crawled at the madness in his gaze.

  "Nobody owns me! Nobody! I made the problem disappear, or should I say, Escobar Castellano, disappear." He laughed at his play on words, the gun dropping down to his side. Behind him, Baxter grinned, his eyes still fixated on Cassie's boobs. Idiot's got a one-track mind.

  "How'd you make him disappear, Dad?"

  "Potassium chloride does wonders for stopping the heart, my dear."

  "You killed him?"

  "Sedative in his whiskey, potassium chloride and an extra dose of his own cocaine. Excruciating way to go, but . . . no more than he deserved." Daniels tapped the gun against his thigh absently, tap, tap.