by Cathryn Fox
She cried out and braced herself against the glass as he hammered into her.
When Dylan joined them Lily buried her mouth in his shoulder to muffle her shuddering cries of pleasure as Evan fucked her hard, his fingers pinching that sensitive nub until she came, violently. She shuddered in his grasp, hips bucking. Still, he didn’t stop. The feel of her tight channel pulsing around his shaft, closing around it, shattered his control. With a shout, he came, his hips slamming against hers.
He let his head fall to her shoulder. Kissed it.
“God, you drive me crazy,” he said, brushing his lips over her ear. “You’re right, though. Next time just tell me when I’m being an ass.”
With a smile, Lily looked over her shoulder at him. “Now where would be the fun in that? I love it when you go all fierce and passionate on me.”
Sighing, she looked at Dylan, “Sorry, but thank you.”
“What are you sorry for?” he asked, grinning, stroking his cock beneath his slacks. “I like it when Evan goes all fierce and passionate on you, too. You’ll make it up to me later.”
She grinned. It was true, Evan knew, she would, while he watched.
As they stepped back out of the trailer, Evan calmer, Lily’s face flushed and Dylan amused, Evan was content to let everyone jump to their own conclusions. They would anyway.
By the end of the third day the kitchen had been gutted of everything unusable, the new appliances had been put in place and everything cleaned. The renovation of the front was well under way and the actual lessons in cooking were complete.
It was a relief to walk into their apartment building, the job done, Joe piling their luggage on a cart to take up by the freight elevator.
“So what do you think?” Dylan asked as the elevator doors shut.
With a weary smile, Evan answered, “I think we need to get out of these clothes.”
He started with Lily’s, to her laughter, stripping her t-shirt over her head.
“I agree,” Dylan said, chuckling, unbuttoning her shorts. “But about the restaurant?”
“We’ve given them a good start,” Evan said, cupping Lily’s face for a kiss, his thumb beneath her chin to tilt it up. “Now it’s up to them to maintain it.”
She smiled as he kissed her then held her for Dylan to kiss too.
Dylan was more than glad to oblige.
The elevator doors hissed open. Evan scooped Lily up in his arms as Dylan gathered her clothes.
With Lily in his arms Evan turned, and then he froze. His jaw set hard and tight.
Seeing the look on his face, she followed his gaze as he slowly set her back on her feet.
Lily sighed.
Beside them Dylan stood, grim-faced. He handed her clothes to her, he and Evan watching around them as she pulled them back on.
On the floor in front of the door were a black rose and an envelope.
The door to the apartment was open, the area around the lock splintered as if someone had taken a crowbar or tire iron to it.
“Stay behind me, Lily,” Evan said. He didn’t want to leave her out in the hall unprotected. “Dylan?”
With a nod, Dylan stepped up beside him as he hooked his Bluetooth headset around his ear and speed-dialed 911.
“Right behind you, Evan,” he said grimly.
Evan kicked the door open. It flew back. That was enough to get a good view of the living room. It was a shambles. Everything breakable had been broken, the LCD TV screen had taken particular abuse, but nothing much had been spared.
Looking around, Dylan said, quietly, “If I didn’t know better I’d say you had another one of your temper tantrums, Evan.”
Evan glanced at him, the look dry. “Funny. Thanks, Dylan.”
With a tense smile, Dylan said, “You’re welcome.”
But his comment had lightened the tension.
All the doors were open. Through the ones to the office, they could see Dylan’s laptop had been flung across the room to smash into the windows, wires trailing from it like a comet.
Dylan’s head tilted as the 911 operator answered and he responded to the voice in his ear.
“Yes, I’d like to report a break-in, related to a possible stalking.”
The door to what had been Dylan’s bedroom was open, too, but there had been little in it to destroy. Once Lily moved in he’d joined them in the master bedroom.
It was clear which room had taken the most abuse. Their bedroom.
“No,” Dylan said into the headset, his face set and furious. “It appears the person or persons involved are no longer in the apartment. It’s destroyed, but empty.”
Looking around Evan went cold. It seemed every drawer, closet and surface had been cleared systematically, the contents tossed across the room almost as if someone had been looking for something. What it was he didn’t know. Or if they’d found it.
“We haven’t touched anything,” Dylan said, in response to the operator. “We watch the crime shows too.”
It was the bed though that was the most chilling, the bed the three of them shared.
Someone had found Evan’s letter opener ‘knife’, a decorative blade with his family’s crest on it, and used it on the pillows and mattress, ripping through the thick layers of padding.
Lily just looked at it, her expression a little sick, her mouth tight.
“Oh Christ,” a voice said from the main doors.
They all turned.
Joe, with their luggage, was standing by the damaged entry.
“I swear to God, Evan,” he said, “no one came up here.”
Grimly, Evan said, “Stay there, Joe, don’t come in and watch where you step.”
His voice sounding sick and furious, Joe said, “I saw it, Evan. The envelope and the flower outside. Cowardly bastard.”
“Yeah,” Dylan said into his headset, rolling his eyes at the 911 operator, “I’m staying on the line, but it’s a mobile, no trace. The address listed for it is correct.”
He looked at Evan. “They’ve got officers on the way and a detective.”
Drawing Lily into his arms, Evan looked around angrily and shook his head. Rage bubbled inside him, but there was no outlet. He wanted to fight, but how did he fight a ghost?
Lily laid a hand on his chest in consolation and looked up at him. He sighed and laid a hand over it.
There wasn’t anything to say.
As per protocol, the first officers on the scene searched the apartment, verified that the perpetrators weren’t in any of the rooms, confirmed that assessment and the need for crime scene personnel.
Holding up his badge to the officer on the door, the man who walked in was a tall, grizzled veteran of the force, his well-worn face and deep-lidded eyes reflecting that he’d seen just about everything and a fair amount of it had been disappointing. He had the envelope in his hand, sealed now in a plastic bag. He slapped it against his leg as he looked around before joining them in the office.
Evan had a hip on the desk, his arm around Lily as she leaned back against him with Dylan on her other side.
Leaving their luggage in the anteroom outside, Joe had gone to call someone to repair the door.
“Hi,” the cop said, his voice deep, a little mellow. “I’m Detective Martin Baker. I won’t pretend I don’t know you, Mr. Taylor, my wife loves your show.”
A little surprised, Evan smiled thinly. “Thank you.”
With a slightly sad smile, Detective Baker said, “And sorry to meet you under these circumstances, Miss Cavanaugh, but you brighten the show for me. And I don’t know this gentleman, but I’m guessing you must be Mr. Bryant.”
“Dylan directs the show,” Evan said. “When I started having problems with a stalker, Dylan moved in.”
“Protecting your investment?” Baker said.
“We’re friends,” Dylan said shortly.
Eyeing the body language between them, Lily bracketed by them, Baker lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing.
“Okay,” he
said. “I know you probably don’t, and no one wants to think anyone they might know would do anything like this, but any idea who might have?”
Evan shook his head, Dylan matched him.
“If I had even the slightest idea I would have told someone,” Evan said, bitterly. “I have no idea who they are or why they targeted me. What have I done that’s so terrible it gives them the right to do this, except work hard and be successful?”
Lily turned to look at him, lifted a hand to touch his face, gazing deep into his eyes as he looked down at her.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with you, Evan,” she said. “It’s them, not you. They’ve got the problem. You’re just the target they’ve picked. They don’t see the work, the hours you put in, the care you take.”
She had and she’d also done it herself, run a successful restaurant, so she knew what it took.
“All they see is that you seem to have everything, looks, charm, success, passion, an incredible mouth, and you’re sexy. Did I mention beautiful?”
He smiled a little, turned his head and kissed her palm.
Even Baker smiled a little. “She’s right. You don’t have to be anything but famous. And for some of these people, not even that.”
He looked at them and sighed.
“All right,” Baker said, “any idea why it might have escalated? It seemed as if it stopped for a while and now it started up again. Any idea why? Anything to do with Miss Cavanaugh there? I sort of got the impression things weren’t going so great on the show for a while, the gossip said ratings had dropped a little. Now, it seems to have started up again.”
Evan stiffened, his arm tightened around Lily, but Baker held up a hand.
“I’m not accusing Miss Cavanaugh of anything, but the timing is suspicious. She arrives, things start looking up. You’re happy keeping everyone guessing, but you all seem pretty close. Anyone not particularly happy she arrived on the scene? Any exes?”
That sparked something.
“Gloria?” Dylan asked quietly, with a look at Evan.
The detective’s eyes sharpened. “Gloria who?
“Talbot,” Evan said.
Dylan gave Evan an apologetic look. “An old girlfriend of Evan’s from back in the day.”
“She was not,” Evan said sharply. “I have better taste. That’s a fiction she puts out about herself. I won’t deny I’ve had my share of romances, but she wasn’t one of them.”
The detective gave Evan a look.
Evan tightened his arm around Lily’s waist, kissed her temple.
“It’s no secret I started out modeling,” he said. “When you have a face like mine, it’s hard to avoid it. It has its advantages, you can make a lot of money fairly quickly if you’re good and get along. Not as good as some of the women, but good. It’s not a bad life for a while. Travel around the world, party a lot. It has one major drawback, not a great deal of longevity. I saw that, but for me it was just a way to make money. Money to do what I wanted, to own my own restaurant, not as a celebrity or ego thing, but a good one, a real one. And I have.”
He smiled grimly at the detective.
“A lot of people made the mistake of thinking I didn’t work for this, didn’t earn it. Even when I was modeling, I spent my free time in the kitchens of the various hotels, asking questions. One of the benefits of the modeling gig. I went to culinary schools, worked with some of best.”
“So you met this Gloria Talbot modeling?”
Evan nodded. “We ran into her recently at a charity function. I told her then I was in love with Lily.”
Lily looked up at him in surprise.
Seeing the look, Evan smiled and kissed her temple.
“Is that what had her looking daggers at us all night?” Dylan asked, amused.
His tone dry, Evan said, “She didn’t believe me. Imagine that.”
“Are you?” Baker asked, “In love with Ms. Cavanaugh, that is?”
“Between you and I, I am,” he said, smiling at her. He tilted his head at Dylan. “Like him, she’s one of the rare ones not afraid of yelling back at me when I’m being an ass.”
“So we’ve seen,” Baker said with a grin and a deep chuckle. “Feisty.”
Lily looked at him and smiled.
“That she is,” Evan said.
“All right,” Baker said. He looked at Evan. “Guess I can’t tell the wife that?”
Dylan said, “The network would rather you didn’t.”
“Probably better. Yeah, we’ll check Ms. Talbot out. We’ll also be checking out a lot of other possibilities. Anyone around you, anyone with access.”
He looked at them tiredly.
“Just be aware that an investigation alone can trigger some of these people off. We question the wrong person before we know enough, we got no proof, they might come looking. I’d advise you to hire some security, maybe even a bodyguard,” he said.
Evan shook his head. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”
Scratching his forehead, looking even more tired than he had, Baker said, “I guess you misunderstood when I said it had escalated.”
He sighed.
“It’s not just because of that,” he said, tipping his head at the mess in the living room, slapping the envelope against his leg. “It’s because of this.”
With a sigh he held up the plastic bag.
It was a particularly good picture, carefully blown up from the one that appeared in the gossip columns of newspapers across the country. In it Evan had leaned down to whisper in Lily’s ear. Her eyelashes were half-closed and a soft smile curved her lips. It was an intimate pose.
R.I.P. had been written over her face.
Lily’s breath caught audibly.
Evan tightened his arm around her as Dylan stroked her hair, cupped her neck.
“It seems your stalker has a new target,” Baker said.
“Over my dead body,” Evan said. “They’ll have to go through me first.”
At almost the same time, his hand tightening lightly, Dylan said, “It won’t happen, Lily.”
His eyes and Evan’s met.
“Whoever it is,” Dylan said, looking at cop. “They’ll have to go through both of us.”
Very quietly Lily said, “And I’m tougher than I look.”
That night, Evan and Dylan held her close.
Chapter Ten
It was late and Dylan was tired. It had been a long night, but a good one, if for no other reason than it had been quiet. Nothing had been heard from the stalker, but Baker was still tracking down possible leads. It was likely that whoever it was couldn’t find them. Dylan had moved them to an undisclosed location, a friend’s house on the beach and forwarded their mail to the network. He wasn’t taking any chances, not with Evan, and not with Lily.
Almost everyone was gone for the night except the three of them. Evan and Lily were in the dining room going over the menus and supplies for the coming week while they waited for him, checking against the supplies they already had in stock.
He’d come back up to the booth to check to make sure everything was properly shut down and to get his cell phone before they left for night. With everyone he needed to contact here except the network execs, he’d left it on the console while they shot the show. That way if it rang someone would hear it and he wouldn’t miss a call, but it wouldn’t screw up a shot. If it was important enough his people would have called for him or told him.
As usual, they’d left the desk light on for him, he could see it as he went up the stairs.
For a minute as he reached the top and looked at the console he could only stare at the equipment while alarm racing through him.
This wasn’t supposed to happen here.
His phone was there all right, but it wasn’t alone.
There was a black-tipped rose beside it.
Dylan thought of Lily and Evan, the two people he loved the most in the world, waiting unsuspectingly below.
Instinctively he looked around as he s
tarted flipping switches on the monitors, searching for them or the stalker, but the light partially blinded him. He reached for his phone, pressed the button that speed-dialed 911.
The monitors came on one by one. If the stalker was in the building, he should be able to see him. Out of habit he also sent out the satellite feed. Whatever happened, someone would see it.
“Evan,” he shouted, his eyes on the monitors.
He wasn’t sure whether Evan could hear him. The switches for the set of monitors he needed were in the next bank. He would need to go around one end or another of this one. Into the shadows.
Every nerve in his body, every sense, was alert.
He started toward them.
Behind him he heard a voice, one that sent his heart into his throat.
Lily.
“Dylan, you don’t have to shout. He sent me to find you,” she said.
Fear for her shot through him.
Even as he turned to tell her to run, a figure leaped from the shadows. Something burned across his ribs as a large body drove him back against the wall and into the bank of monitors with enough force to knock the wind out of him. His head struck the equipment bank hard enough to make him see stars. His ribs crunched audibly. Pain exploded through his chest and head.
Lily reached the doorway just in time to see the shadow of a man leap out of the darkness at Dylan.
“Dylan!” she shouted, horrified.
She saw the flash of light on the knife in his hands and leaped for it, grabbed at his arm desperately to keep him from using it on Dylan as he slid bonelessly down the wall.
With a massive shrug the man threw her back against the doorjamb, the knife flashing, slashing across her arm as she threw it up to protect her face.
A thin slice of pain seared, shockingly, across her forearm.
The man’s face, turned into a harsh mask by the dim light of the desk lamp, turned toward her, his lips drawn back in a snarl.
“Lily,” Dylan croaked, whooping for breath, “run!”
Blood ran down his face.
There was a chance she could draw the man away from Dylan and if she could reach Evan…