by Drea Stein
Chapter 58
For Caitlyn, the realization had come on her drive along Shore Road. It was over. She was in love with Noah, and none of it mattered. None of the stupid messed-up things that his father or her grandfather had done mattered. What mattered was the now. A fresh start. Together, in the open. Nothing bad was going to happen to her, to them. They were ready for each other. She only needed to go home, wait for him.
Now, as she opened the door of her house, she sensed someone was there.
“Have a drink with me?”
Caitlyn stopped. Michael St. John stood and smiled at her.
“What are you doing here?” She took a step backwards, one hand on the edge of the door into her living room, the other holding her keys, claw-like, as if they would serve some useful purpose, as a weapon perhaps.
“Really, Caitlyn, you should care more about where you keep your spare key hidden.” He dangled something in front of him, a key on a red ribbon. Silently, she swore to herself. Yes, she had remembered to lock the doors, but she hadn’t removed the key to the back door from its hiding place under the fourth flagstone.
“You need to leave here this instant,” she told him, trying to command a bravery she didn’t feel.
He smiled at her, a small, gentle smile.
“Please. Let us just talk for a while. I don’t mean to hurt you. I don’t bite, Caitlyn. I really don’t.”
“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.” She still had not moved into the house. Her house, she reminded herself. He had no right to treat it as if it were his own. She took a step across her threshold, into her living room.
“Here, have a drink?” he offered again, handing her a glass of champagne.
She took it automatically. Michael had set up here. A bottle of champagne, chilling in a bucket, two flutes, a blanket spread out in front of the fire. A wave of nausea hit her, and she almost put the champagne down.
“You can’t possibly think…?”
“What?” He looked over at the blanket in front of the fire. “That you would be so kind? No, Caitlyn, that’s not why I am here. Please, just sit for a moment. Have a drink with me, and let me explain things.”
“Explain what?”
“You’ll have to sit, my dear.”
Caitlyn hesitated. The house was silent, though the wind outside creaked through its porous skin. She could feel a cold draft snake around her ankles. The fire crackled and flickered, and a candle cast shadows in the far corners. Michael St. John. She looked at him, waiting for that pop, that singing, the physical reaction that had hit her every time he was near. Nothing. Relief flooded her. Not the sound of his voice, or his physical presence, nothing could make her feel. She smiled.
“Sure. I’ll have a drink with you.” You bastard, she answered silently.
He didn’t touch her, just sat next to her on the couch.
“To,” he started, raising his glass, “new beginnings.”
“New beginnings?”
“For both of us. Without each other.”
She looked at him. His blue eyes were soft, gentle. This was the man she remembered, the quiet look, the assurance, the man who had made her laugh. But she couldn’t let herself forget how quickly it could all turn to displeasure, rage even. He was changeable and possibly dangerous.
“All right.”
She took a sip. She wanted food, a glass of cold water, not alcohol. She needed to call Noah. Needed to speak to him, tell him how she felt.
Michael took a sip and looked at her.
“You’re still beautiful, you know. I won’t get over that.”
She smiled, feeling uneasy. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
Michael picked up the bottle, a napkin wrapped around it to catch the drops of condensation. He filled up his glass and held out the bottle for hers. She took another sip and let him pour her more.
“Thank you.”
“I wanted to thank you.”
“For what?”
“For making me, as they say, see the light. I owe you an apology, Caitlyn, a big one.”
“You do?”
“Yes, you know I do. I maligned you, ruined your career and tried every underhanded way to get you back.”
“You did,” Caitlyn said, waiting. Michael refilled her glass even though she had barely taken a sip. The champagne was not sitting well on her empty stomach, and already she felt a bit light-headed.
“You see, I thought I owned you, Caitlyn, and with every other woman, I have. They were nothing to me, the ones I could have so easily. But you were different, untouchable, even when you let me make love to you. I wanted you all the more.”
Her stomach was queasy, a pit of nausea, and she wished only for him to be gone.
“And then you didn’t want me anymore. Anything I could do to get you back, I tried so hard. But you wouldn’t play. But you know about that. You see, you’re a dangerous woman, Caitlyn.”
He leaned in over her as she moved out of his way.
“You know my secret, don’t you? I thought you’d made a promise. A bargain is a bargain, Caitlyn. But you meant to break that trust, didn’t you?”
“What are you talking about?” She didn’t like the way his eyes looked, hard as glass, empty.
“You sent the ring back, my dear. That’s when I knew. Knew that you loved someone else. You couldn’t be trusted anymore. You’re dangerous.” His finger traced against her jaw line, and she felt it, thick, like a heavy blow.
And then she realized she was in trouble.
Chapter 59
Noah felt cleaner, clearer than he had in a long time. His lawyer had cautioned him that Sam’s words might mean nothing in court, and that they might never know what had really happened that night. Noah didn’t think he needed to. Whether his father had fallen or jumped, he knew enough already. And the past wasn’t what was important now. He had a future to look forward to. No more lies, no more secrets between them.
“What are you still doing here?”
Heather Malloy was standing in the corridor looking at him, a puzzled look on her face.
“What do you mean?” Tomorrow they would have to tell the firm something about Sam Harris, but for now it could stay quiet.
“I thought you wanted to make up with Caitlyn.”
“What are you talking about?” He was surprised when Heather walked towards him.
“Look, I know I work for her, and you, and that I’m not supposed to know about you two, but who are we kidding here? She’s more like a friend than a boss to me, and after what you did, and that other creep did, and the way she looked today, do you have to be such a jerk? What is it with you rich guys? Do you think that just because you have big bank accounts that you can treat women any way you want?”
Before Noah could get a word in edgewise, Heather went on, without pausing for a breath, her green eyes sparking and her finger pointing.
“Caitlyn is one of the best, most generous, honest people I know, and if you think...”
“I know,” he said, simply holding up his hands in surrender.
His statement had the desired effect. The wind seemed to go out beneath her sails. “Oh.”
“I’m going to find her now, to see if I can convince her that I’m good enough for her.”
“Why did you come back here? I already told you, she’s probably been home for an hour or so.”
“What are you talking about?” Noah felt the first tickling of unease ripple through him. He’s sent her home ages ago.
“You called a couple of hours ago, said you needed to see her. I felt bad for you, so I told you where she was, that she would be at home by now.”
“I never spoke to you.”
“Yes, you did. I mean, I thought you did. I mean, the connection was bad, and I didn’t recognize the number, but I...”
Apprehension had turned to fear, and Noah felt his stomach plunge.
“Where did you tell him she was going to be?”
&nbs
p; Heather looked scared, too, but she answered, “Home, Caitlyn should be home by now, I would think. Is everything okay? I mean, did I do the right thing?”
Heather looked distraught, but Noah barely paused on his way out the door. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Chapter 60
Noah had leapt into his car, one hand dialing her number, but the phone rang and rang, going to voicemail. He hesitated for just a moment at the intersection and then turned towards the water. Her house first, he thought. She would go back there, hunker down, if she were upset.
He pushed the car, faster and faster, hugging the curvy road. He screeched around the corner, almost clipping another sedan that came towards him, but yanked over just in time. The other driver’s horn echoed in his ear.
God, Noah thought, if he was too late … if Michael St. John tried to hurt her… Noah felt his blood rise and a film of red come over his eyes. Calm, he needed to stay calm. He didn’t know for sure that Michael St. John would even be there. Or that the man was crazy. Obsessed with Caitlyn, certainly. Possessive, no doubt. But would he hurt her?
Focus, Noah told himself, pushing the speedometer up, faster and faster. Hopefully he would find her curled up in front of the fire, a glass of wine or tea in her hand. Angry, but he could overcome that, he thought. He’d just have to tell her how he felt about her, how he had always felt about her. How she was the last thing he thought of at night, the first thing all morning and how now, and even over the past ten years, he had been constantly asking himself, “What would Caitlyn think of this?”
Noah topped a small rise and saw the turn-off for her drive. No, there was no way he was going to lose her again.
There were just a few lights on, and her car was there. He felt relief wash over him as he whipped into the drive and jumped from the car, calling her name. Noah ran up the steps of the porch. The curtains were drawn in the sitting room, and he went to the front door and pounded.
Chapter 61
“Sounds like the cavalry is here after all,” Michael said, his voice mocking. “I was so hoping we wouldn’t be disturbed. Now I want you to tell him to go away, so we can keep talking.”
“Why would I do that?” Caitlyn lifted her chin high.
“Because I have this.” Michael very casually pulled a small gun out of his pocket and pointed it towards her.
Caitlyn kept her eyes on the gun that glinted dully in his hand, while her heart leapt with fear and joy. Noah had come for her. Even now she could hear his footsteps on the porch, his frantic cries.
“What are you going to do with me, Michael?” Caitlyn knew she shouldn’t push him, aware that his mood could turn on a dime, but she wanted to give Noah time.
“That, I will tell you later,” he said, the whisper sending shivers down her spine. “I told you I just wanted to talk, talk some sense into you. So, tell lover boy to go away.”
“And if I don’t?”
“We wouldn’t want any accidents, would we?”
There was a pounding on the front door, and she could hear him calling for her. Michael pushed her out into the hallway.
“Tell him.”
She swallowed hard, trying to find her voice, wondering just where she had underestimated Michael St. John’s anger towards her. But she had to keep Noah safe.
“Noah, go away. I don’t want to see you.” She forced the words from her throat.
“Caitlyn, please, let me in,” he called to her.
Caitlyn hesitated, and Michael twisted the gun in her side as a reminder.
“I can’t,” Caitlyn all but sobbed. “Go away. I don’t want you. I don’t want to see you.”
There was a pause. She could hear his heavy breathing, and hoped that he would go away. Caitlyn’s heart beat raggedly. She needed to know Noah was safe. She could handle Michael – all he needed was to be reasoned with – but she wasn’t sure that Michael wouldn’t hurt Noah. And that, she couldn’t have.
“If that’s the way you want it.” She heard Noah’s voice, heard the pain and anguish, and then there were sounds of footsteps trailing away.
She felt her heart stop, stutter as she realized that he was leaving, then squared her shoulders. She had saved him; that was all that mattered. She would find a way to apologize later, when she had calmed Michael down.
“Can you put the gun down now? I’ll talk to you.”
Michael’s pale blue eyes followed her as she led him back to the living room. She didn’t like the dead look in them. There were fire tools in there, Caitlyn thought, maybe something she could use to defend herself if it came to that.
“Let’s have another drink. We’ll talk it out.” It was the voice she would have used to placate a small child. It worked with Michael when he was being unreasonable or when he was working himself up into a rage.
Chapter 62
Noah backed away, even got in his car and drove away. He stopped up the road, pulled out his cell phone and called reinforcements. He had heard the fear in Caitlyn’s voice, even though she had tried to hide it. She was in there, and he was sure she wasn’t alone. There was no way he was going to leave her until she had told him to go away to his face. And even then, he wouldn’t leave. There would be no more of that.
The moon was out, a half moon, with enough light that he could move quickly though the line of trees towards the back of her house. The kitchen door was locked. He checked under the flagstone where the key was supposed to be and cursed.
He looked at the panes of glass in the kitchen door. It was old, not as old as the house, but the glass in it was single pane. It would break easily. He could only hope that it wouldn’t make too much noise.
Noah took off his jacket, wrapped it around his fist and smashed. The first time nothing happened, so he hit it again harder. Nothing. The third time and his anger did it. The glass cracked and one piece, large enough, fell. There was a mat right by the door, and he heard only a dull thud as it landed there.
Pleased, he reached his arm in and unlocked the door, swinging it slowly open as he moved as soundlessly as he could into the house. There was the murmur of voices, and he followed them.
Chapter 63
He heard Caitlyn’s voice, calm, steady, as if she were talking to a child. Through the dark, he walked out of the kitchen and into the back hall, heading for the living room. He approached the doorway slowly, inching his head around.
Michael had his back towards him, but Caitlyn was facing him. Her eyes narrowed only momentarily before she brought them back to focus on Michael. He was pacing, walking the room and waving something. Noah hazarded another glance and saw that his first impression was right. He had a gun.
He saw the fear and worry in Caitlyn’s eyes and knew that she had only been trying to keep him safe.
Noah looked around. He needed something heavy. Something to smash down on Michael’s head, preferably. He found a vase on the small table in the hallway where Caitlyn dumped her mail and keys. White with a blue pattern, it was probably an antique, but he hoped that Lucas Montgomery would forgive him.
Caitlyn was ready for him. She was looking at Michael intently, even reaching out her arms towards him when Noah came in. Then the vase was above Michael’s head, and Noah swung it down with enough force that it shattered.
Michael turned, stunned but not quite down for the count. He still had the gun, and Noah went for it. He and Michael were grappling for it, and he sensed a blur of motion in the background.
The force of Noah’s leap had knocked them both to the floor, and they were on the rug, rolling around, wrestling, trying to reach the gun. Michael was enraged, screaming obscenities, but Noah was on top of him, just about to get him when Caitlyn struck. The poker from the fireplace connected with Michael’s arm with a sickening thud, and the gun went flying.
Caitlyn leaped and picked it up. Her hand was unsteady as she pointed it at Michael.
“It’s over.”
Chapter 64
The police cam
e soon after, and then came the lawyers. Caitlyn sat on her couch as the crowds milled about her. She wasn’t sure what would happen to Michael since he wasn’t a citizen and the gun had turned out not to be loaded. All the fight had seemed to go out of him. He sat in the kitchen a broken man. He had finally gotten the message.
Noah was all about, taking care of things, and now she could sense the crowd thinning out. They would be alone soon.
He came with a cup of tea, milky and sugary, and handed it to her.
Noah sat down beside her and pulled her tight to him. “I’m sorry,” he began. “I never would have sent you home if I thought…”
“You don’t have to say it. You came for me.” That was all that mattered to her.
“Of course I came for you. I love you, Caitlyn,” he told her as she snuggled deep into the comfort of his arms.
She stilled, knowing he was waiting for her answer. She sat up so that their knees were touching, so she could look into his eyes, run her hand along the smooth, strong plane of his cheek.
“I love you, too. From the first time I let you kiss me on the beach under the fireworks to the moment you cracked a seventeenth-century antique on a crazy man’s head for me.”
She hoped that would be enough.
“Do we have any more secrets, Caitlyn?”
She sighed. “You mean beyond your father was a blackmailer and a crook? And my grandfather was adulterer who lost other people’s money?”
He considered it. “Yes, beyond that.”
“I didn’t really forget my towel that day at the pool. I knew you would be there.”
“So, you staged the whole thing?”
“The whole thing.”
“I guess I can deal with those,” he said, a light note of teasing in his voice as his mouth grazed her cheek.
“And I cheated at poker that one time,” she said.