* * *
KADE PASSED THE car as it made the turn onto a gravel road. He counted to thirty, looped around, then made the same turn. He'd followed Marissa and her male friend to the outskirts of the city. The full moon outlined the skeletons of large homes being built in this area, but he saw the taillights of the car as it passed the new housing development. He kept those lights in his sight, but stayed as far back as possible. It was obvious no one else should be on this road.
Where the hell were they going?
Finally, the car pulled onto a dirt road that cut through a forest. Kade followed, but slowed the car down to a crawl and doused the headlights.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted the car parked near the two-story house. The only illumination was the full moon; everything was dark, including the porch light. The hair rose on the back of his neck. He parked, got out of the car, and jogged around the perimeter of the forest until he was a few feet from the house. He unholstered his gun, flicked off the safety, and crept closer.
Before he got within a foot of the porch, a woman's scream and the blast of rifle had him on the ground, rolling toward the cover of the parked car.
He peered over the top of the hood. The front door opened, the body of man flopped out, then the door slammed. Kade waited a few seconds then crawled on his belly toward the pouch.
The man lay on his side, blood seeping from a wound in his shoulder.
Shit.
Kade dragged him off the porch and around the side of the house. He staunched the blood flow with his jacket, grateful to see it was a superficial wound. Michael was an excellent shot. Why had he allowed this guy to live?
It took forgoddamnedever to pull the vic to the rental car. The bleeding had slowed, but he needed a doctor to see to the wound. Kade pulled out his cell phone and dialed for backup, all the while watching the house. Just as he was filling in Pete on the situation, a truck ambled from the road and stopped near the house.
Kade's heart nearly beat out of his chest. Lillian, that blonde goddess bitch, exited the truck, and flirting with the bastard getting out of the driver's side, headed toward the house. Holy God. She was walking right into Michael's trap.
Fifteen
MARISSA SAT IN the chair, staring at the rifle pointed at her head. If she hadn't flipped on the lights and temporarily blinded the killer, the shot would've killed Dane. As it was, he might be bleeding to death on the porch. Dane, please be okay. Please be okay.
"I want to see if he's all right."
"I don't give a shit."
Marissa gritted her teeth. "What do you want?"
Her questions were met with silence. Cold fear wound through her, squeezing out the heat of her anger. She wrapped her arms around herself and thought about what to do. If Dane gained consciousness, what would he do? What if he never regained consciousness? What if he was dying?
Please be okay. Please be okay.
"Where are my animals?"
"Killed 'em."
"What!" Shock numbed her. DJ, Shadow, Pumpkinface...all of them...dead? Dead!?
"You son-of-a-bitch." She stood, bile rising in her throat at the thought of her pets being shot, one by one, by this maniac. Everyone who loved her, everyone she loved, killed by a man who had no value for life.
"That's the truth, all right." He gestured with the rifle for her to stay seated. "My mother was the queen of bitches and I am her son. You're not a therapist, are you? I wouldn't want to waste time telling you my problems. You don't have any solutions. You're just a spoiled little rich girl who's going to die the way you lived. Alone. Alone. Alone."
Marissa curled into the chair. Who was he waiting for? He'd shot Dane. Her life was forfeit, too. Why wait to kill her? Was he an enemy of Brent's? Of Tuesday's? Where was her young friend? Was he dead, too?
"Oooooooh. I can see your wittle thoughts clicking along, Marissa. Who am I? What do I want? Who am I waiting for?" He leaned forward, the rifle never wavering, and whispered, "My name is Michael Feeney."
You want the zoo. I want Michael Feeney.
"Gillian?" Her thoughts whirled, dove, twisted, banging around in her skull until she wanted to scream. "You were killed. Both of you. In a motorcycle accident."
He's amazing, Rissa. He has the body of a Greek god and the soul of a poet.
"Nope. Alive and well. All these years, too. Guess she didn't care that much about you, did she?"
I'll be back before dawn. Don't worry about me, Rissa. I'll be fine.
"Gillian is alive." The words sounded as though she'd shouted them through a tunnel—long and loud and angry and echoing.
Just as she leapt from the chair, she heard the chattering of two voices, then the creak of the front door opening. All she saw was the gun, the rifle swinging away from her and toward the people entering the house. She jumped on that man, that awful, terrible man who'd taken away her sister, and struggled for the gun.
"Marissa! No!"
Shouts. Grunts. Screams. Marissa found herself wrested from Michael and tossed on the floor. Brent and a blonde-haired woman fought for the rifle, but the killer held on to it all the while chanting, "Lillie is my flower, my lady, my love. Lillie is my flower, my lady, my love. Lillie is my flower, my lady, my love."
"Shut up, asshole."
Dazed, blood trickling from her mouth, Marissa turned toward the front door and saw a man enter the house. He had the authority of a police offer and he held a gun.
"Shoot him!" Marissa shouted. "Shoot him!"
"I wish I could, lady." He neared the melee on the couch and kept the gun trained on the struggling people. "Lillian, get your ass out of the way."
"Fuck off, Kade."
"Lillian, goddamn it!"
Michael giggled as the rifle popped free of his grip. Brent and Lillian jumped away in opposite directions, leaving Michael open to Kade's gun.
"One twitch, dickhead, and I'll shoot you right between the eyes."
Michael's gaze sought Lillie's. She aimed the rifle at his chest, her blue eyes as hard as sapphires.
"We're finally going to be together, my flower."
"You got backup coming, Kade?"
"Hell, yes."
"That simpering ass, Pete, still your partner?"
"Yes."
"Has he been fucking up my filing system?"
Kade laughed, a sound as rusty as an old metal hinge. "I've missed you, Lillie."
Marissa couldn't deal with everything that had unfolded in the last few minutes. The only thought in her head was to get to Dane. She scrambled from the floor and stared at the man named Kade. "Where's Dane?"
"By my car."
"Is he—"
"No. An ambulance is on the way."
Brent stood by the door, waiting, as she hurried out. Together, they ran across the field and found Dane leaning against the car.
"Marissa? Thank God! Are you okay?"
"Yes, Dane, I'm fine." She kissed him on the lips then rained kisses on his face. "Are you okay?"
"I'll live." His gaze found Brent's. "Do you know what the hell is going on?"
"Nope."
"Where's Tuesday? And the animals?"
"I don't know where Tuesday is, but the animals... The man that shot you...he killed them."
"What?" Dane grimaced. "Marissa, honey..."
The wail of sirens interrupted their worries and fears for Tuesday and the pets. Brent hurried to the road to direct the ambulance to Dane.
Marissa wanted to hug Dane, but knew his shoulder was a painful mess. She kissed him again. "Promise you'll be all right. Promise you'll—" She paused, her gaze swinging to the house. "Did you hear that? It's DJ!"
Dane had enough strength to roll his eyes. "Baby, I don’t—." A faint bark interrupted. He cocked his head. "You're right." Paramedics arrived and Marissa stepped away to give them room. "I'm going to find Tuesday and DJ. I'll be back."
"No! Let the police go through the house. Wait here. With me."
She look
ed at him, torn between rescuing her animal friends, and staying with the man she loved. As the paramedics peeled away the jacket covering Dane's shoulder and worked on the gaping wound, she made her decision. "I'll be right back. I have to know everyone's okay."
"Marissa!"
She jogged to the house, slipped inside, and headed upstairs. She paused on the third step. Something smelled like gasoline and the carpet was gooshy under her Keds. Had Tuesday spilled something on the stairs? Distracted by the unfolding drama in the living room, she watched the police wrestle Michael to the floor and attempt to secure his arms and legs with plastic ties.
"We'll be together, my flower," he moaned. "But these bastards can go to hell!"
He roared, rising from the floor like an angry god, and flicked open a gold lighter. He tossed it toward the stairs at the same time realization struck Marissa.
Gasoline.
Carpet.
Fire!
Marissa flew up the stairs, catching the horrified expression on her sister's face before the whoosh and heat of the flames followed on her heels.
* * *
FROM THE AMBULANCE'S open door, Dane watched people run from the house, shouting and screaming. Three police offers dragged out a dark-haired man and one tall guy had a blonde female tossed over his shoulder. She pounded his backside and screamed obscenities.
Brent sat beside him, a flabbergasted expression on his face, and shook his head. "What the hell?"
Then they heard it.
The crackle of flames. The quiet, insidious roar of fire. The silence of those who watched.
"No! Oh, shit. No!" Brent jumped out of the ambulance, but was stalled by a police officer.
"Where's Marissa?" yelled Dane.
"I'm sure she's out here, buddy. I'll find her."
He got off the gurney, pain streaking through his mangled shoulder. Damn. He jumped out of the ambulance, gritting his teeth against the jolt reverberating up his spine, and ran toward the house.
Brent caught his arm and wheeled him around. "You can't go in there. You'll both get killed."
Dane searched the small crowd for Marissa, but found only one woman, the blonde still in the fierce grip of the tall man. Her gaze was riveted on the house, tears in her eyes.
He followed her line of sight to the upper story, but saw nothing but smoke and flame.
* * *
"TUESDAY!" YELLED MARISSA. She'd checked three of the bedrooms and found nothing. The smoke was already thick and choking. She prayed he wasn't in the house as she pushed open the door of the master bedroom. The minute she opened it, eight joyous animals ran out. One look at the fire climbing the stairs, and eight scared animals ran right back inside.
She followed, slammed the door, and got on the floor. Her lungs burned, her eyes watered, and she felt like she'd gotten a sunburn. The animals whimpered, hissed, and barked, all of them cowering near the sliding glass door. She crawled to it, unlocked it, and slid it open.
Fresh air rushed in as the animals rushed out. Marissa crawled through the door onto the balcony and lay there, breathing blessed oxygen and listening to the pounding of her own heart.
A wet swipe on her cheek and the hot smell of old gym socks made her look up. DJ sat next her, wagging his tail, looking from her to the stairs that led to the backyard. His eyes seemed to say, "Get moving."
Marissa sat up, scooted to the staircase, and bumped all the way down it, landing face-first in the grass. God, it smelled so good. So clean and earthy. DJ offered another wet, stinky kiss before taking off. She wondered why she felt so tired and figured, what the hell, she'd just take a tiny nap. Her eyes drifted shut.
* * *
DANE HEARD THE dog before he saw him. DJ bounded around the burning house just as fire trucks and another ambulance arrived. Dane wasted no time. Marissa had let out those animals and that meant she was somewhere near. He ran as fast as he could. He heard Brent's shouts then heard the slapping of grass against his jeans.
Marissa lay near the balcony's staircase, a limp, pale, but alive woman who was going to get her ass kicked the minute she woke up. He struggled to pick her up, but his lousy shoulder wouldn't allow it.
"Let me." The tall guy and the blonde stood next to him on the left, and Brent stood on the right.
The blonde smiled. "Hi. I'm Lillie. The big take-charge oaf is Kade." Her worried gaze assessed Marissa. "She's my sister." Dane wasn't sure how to process that information. Marissa had never mentioned her family. Was Lillie the person she'd been running from? Or was it the asshole who'd tried to kill him?
"Dane, you're looking worse for wear." Brent slipped an arm around his shoulder and helped him walk. "Let's get you lovebirds to the hospital."
"Your house. Brent..."
"Don't worry. It's insured."
* * *
TUESDAY STEPPED INTO the emergency room lobby and grinned at Z. He'd just seen his sister, comfortably sleeping and on the road to recovery. Momma planned to stay the night and had been reading Bible passages when he left.
"She's gonna be okay." Relief swept through him. "I can't thank you enough. You didn't have to stay, you didn't have to help."
"I wanted to." Her arms slipped around him and she lifted her head. "But you owe me dinner. I'm starving." Tuesday laughed then bent his head and kissed her. She tasted like chocolate mint and her lips melted against his so sweetly, he didn't think he could ever kiss another woman. Sirens wailed and emergency room personnel rushed through the entrance. He lifted his head, wondering what poor soul had been injured, and nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw Marissa and Dane being rushed through the doors. Brent, a tall blonde, and huge guy he'd hate to meet in a fight, followed through the doors then found themselves in the lobby.
Brent grinned and pounded Tuesday on the back. "Good to see you, man. We didn't know what happened to you. How did you know to get to the hospital?" Brent leaned down and brushed a kiss on Z's cheek. "Hey, girl."
"What's going on?" asked Tuesday.
"It's a long story," said Brent, his gaze catching the blonde's. "But it has a happy ending."
* * *
GILLIAN BRUSHED THE lock of hair from Marissa's cheek and smiled. Her sister was alive and well—no thanks to that asshole Michael. She brushed a kiss on her forehead. When she rose, her sister’s eyes fluttered open.
"Gillian."
"Aye, luv. What'd I tell you 'bout washing yer face?"
"Twice a day without fail." Marissa grinned. "Millie?"
"I had to see you again, sis." She held out her pinkie. "No more secrets or lies, promise."
Rissa extended her pinkie and grasped Gillian's.
* * *
SOMETIME LATER, AFTER Marissa's parents had arrived and found not one daughter alive, but two, and a reunion of epic proportions ensued, Brent walked outside and stood next to Kade.
"She's special," he said.
Kade blew a thin stream of smoke into the air then took another long puff of his cigarette. "I know."
"She loves you."
"I know that, too."
Kade flicked the stub to the sidewalk and crushed it under his heel. He looked at Brent long and hard and after a while, Brent felt like squirming away or confessing crimes he'd never committed. Instead, he stood still as a stone and returned Kade's cop stare.
"She belongs with me. I'm not going to lose her again." Brent nodded, the jagged hole in his heart tearing a little more. "Fine. But if you fuck up...I'll be there, waiting."
"That a threat?"
"Yes." Brent turned away then looked over his shoulder. "I'll only let her go once. If there's a next time, Kade, I'll fight for her."
He walked into the hospital and left Kade leaning against the brick wall, contemplating the night sky.
Epilogue
MARISSA SAT ON the porch, Shadow in her lap and DJ by her side, and watched her sister chase the frenetic puppy Gillie had renamed Pete. Brent had called volunteers from the TeenCenter, who gathered the animals, ta
king them to the TeenCenter until Marissa found a home of her own.
Just a couple of weeks after the fire that destroyed Brent's house, Gillie found the perfect place for them to live. A one-story, four-bedroom monstrosity with a wraparound porch—a leftover from a time long past.
Her parents, still clueless about why she wanted to leave the mansion but somehow willing to indulge her, visited her and Gillie every Sunday. They ate dinner together and talked—really talked. Without the fear, the secrets, the guilt, the manipulations...she shook her head. It was nice to be on the road to having a real family.
Gillie had already quit the U.S. Marshal service, and now that she was home for good, she taught self-defense courses at the TeenCenter. She and Kade were getting married. He'd left the Marshal service, too, and had procured a job as a homicide detective in town.
Gillie would share the house with Marissa, on its twenty acres, until she married Kade.
The only thing...person...missing from her life was Dane Sinclair. He helped them move into the house and sometimes he called, but he hadn't kissed her, touched her, or asked her out. He wouldn't accept the $10,000 so she gave it to the TeenCenter.
Why didn't he want her?
"Brooding again?" Gillie climbed the porch steps and scratched DJ's head.
"What else is there to do?"
"Let's go to the zoo."
Marissa blinked. "Are you serious?"
Her silly desire to go to the zoo had started the whole journey. It seemed appropriate that it should end there, too. After Dane left her, she'd torn the list into tiny pieces and burned them in the fireplace. She felt sad, but at peace, too. "Yeah,” she said. “Let's go to the zoo."
* * *
DANE'S HEART POUNDED furiously when he saw Marissa near the elephant pen—in the exact spot Gillie promised to put her.
Would Marissa forgive him for being so blind, so foolish? He'd feared that he'd lost her that night...first by bullet then by fire. He'd known then she wasn't a spoiled princess like his first wife or selfish socialite like his mother. She was Marissa. Beautiful and sweet and courageous and, if he was lucky, forgiving. It had taken him too long to realize the reason he'd felt as if he'd been ripped in two was because he loved her.
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