Fate’s Reaping

by Becca Fanning

  “The deal fell through,” he confirmed. “So. I need your help.”

  “How?”

  “I want in.”

  “In?”

  “On your revitalization project. I’ll help you and you pay me under the table. I keep my head down until I can repay my benefactors and then we’ll part ways. You can stay here, I can go back to New York. No worse for wear.”

  “You want money? I’ll give you money.”

  “That’ll leave too much of a paper trail. You don’t want anyone checking things out, do you? Not after what I’ve just said, of course.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “It all comes crashing down. It doesn’t matter in the end for me. Prison will probably be my best bet, to be honest. Better than what the Russians would do to me. Don’t make me go that route, Ange. Help me help you.”

  “I’ll think about it,” she told him. And then she was pushing past him, out into the bright sunlight, and walking back to her car.

  She sat in it and started it up, only driving it around the block before parking and trying to compose herself.

  But she couldn’t. She sat there and cried.

  Her life was coming down around her. She’d never knowingly done anything wrong – but it wouldn’t matter. She hadn’t known the money she’d taken to found her business was stolen. It could all be traced back through Jonathan Hall to her.

  And that wasn’t even the least of her worries.

  There was someone out there, someone who had kidnapped her. It was like Copeland all over again.

  And worst of all? My relationship with Marcus is crumbling. Maybe we jumped into it too soon. Too much passion. We’re burning out.

  Where will I land? Where will he land?

  She didn’t like where their lives were going. Things weren’t okay.

  Will they ever be okay?

  She didn’t have the answer to that. Eventually, she composed herself. Wiping her eyes, she put the car in drive and headed home.

  But is it really home?

  Chapter 9

  Marcus was still angry.

  But it wasn’t at Angie. He was angry with himself. He was angry about how he’d treated her, how he’d completely ignored that she’d been in a car wreck, angry at how he had been acting.

  I’m going to lose her. I can feel it. She’s slipping away, right through my fingers. What will I do once she’s gone?

  He knew there was no way he could go back to the way he was before he’d met her. He hadn’t been happy then. He’d just been going through the motions. Now that he’d seen what happiness was like, what it was like to truly love someone again, he didn’t think he could go on without her.

  I love her.

  He knew that now. He’d known it for some time.

  And I’m going to ruin us. Ruin her.

  Darkness had fallen. He’d been home for a few hours – yet Angie was nowhere to be found. He’d given her the keys to the car and walked into town, using the time to think and reflect on how he’d been acting.

  And I thought it was easy. How could I be more wrong?

  There was a cool wind blowing from the north, bringing along with it the threat of rain. It had been a while since they’d had a good rainstorm and Marcus welcomed it, hoping it would wash everything clean.

  He stood at the sink, looking out the open window that overlooked his driveway. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there, feeling the cool breeze and the moisture hit him when he saw headlights coming up the driveway.

  Angie came inside moments later, breathing hard from running inside and trying to beat the rain. She saw him standing there and an awkwardness settled over the room.

  “Marcus, we need to talk,” she said.

  He felt his heart plummet in his chest. “I understand,” he told her. “And I want you to know that I don’t blame you at all.”

  “What?” she asked. “Just listen.” He nodded, doubt swirling around. “I was kidnapped yesterday.”

  “What?” he roared. The news hit him like a brick. “And you didn’t tell me? What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t…” Angie told him. Marcus was bristling with anger again – and it was taking everything he was capable of not to start yelling. He looked up at Angie’s face and saw sadness, shame, and… fear.

  He took a few deep breaths and said, “Why didn’t you tell me, Angie? You should have come straight to me.”

  “I know, Marcus. I know. But after our fight last night, I just didn’t want to burden you with anything else.”

  “You’ll never be a burden to me,” he told her. He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him. He wrapped his arms around her small body and she started crying. Marcus ran his fingers through her hair, whispering that everything was going to be okay, waiting for her to get herself under control.

  He hated to see Angie cry but he couldn’t help but feel happiness that she was okay, that they were there together, and that somehow, they would be okay. He knew it.

  “Someone ran me off the road yesterday morning,” she finally said. “Someone in a big truck. I couldn’t see much else.”

  Marcus listened, enraptured as Angie explained everything. She would tell him one bit of the story and he would have her repeat it two or three times. It took nearly 20 minutes for her to finish her story.

  “Do you know who it could be?” she finally asked.

  He shook his head and said, “I don’t know.”

  It could be anyone.

  There were new people in Charming. The wolf Shifters. What Angie had said about her kidnappers fit the bill for them. They were curious about Marcus and what had happened between him, Angie, and Mayor Irving Copeland.

  But there were others new to town as well. Like Jonathan Hall and his assistant. Angie said there were two of them, and that matches up with what he saw outside his station.

  It could be anyone else in town, too. The Copelands were as likely of a target as any. Stu and Cliff were bound to feel resentment towards Angie and Marcus. Was it enough to turn into something like this? What about the Rivers’? They were bound to be unhappy at how Marcus had been at the trial. It could be anyone else in town, too.

  Marcus knew he would have to keep his eyes open.

  Outside, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed. The storm front was moving in.

  “Do you want some dinner?” Marcus asked. Angie nodded and sat down at the table, worn out. He went to the counter and grabbed a pot, taking it to the sink to begin to fill it up.

  He glanced outside. The storm was blowing in good now. Rain occasionally flew in, just enough to splash across his arms. He took a deep breath, smelling rain, the storm, and…

  Someone else.

  He scanned outside, unsure of exactly what he was smelling. His sharp eyes were unable to see far into the night.

  “Angie, hit the lights,” he said.

  He knew she must have been confused but a moment later the lights flipped off. Marcus looked outside and he felt Angie at his side.

  There was a flash of lightning and Marcus saw something – someone – outside, and he was yelling, “Get down!” while he turned and wrapped his arms tightly around Angie. They fell to the floor as another crack of lightning roared through the night – but this time, it wasn’t lightning. A glass of water that had been sitting on the table exploded in a shower of glass and water.

  “What was that?!” Angie screamed. Her face was pale and Marcus didn’t have to answer her; she already knew exactly what it was. He could see it in her eyes.

  He got to his hands and knees, pulling her towards him, keeping as low as possible. Angie crawled into the corner between the refrigerator and cabinets, wedging herself as far back as possible. Marcus crawled towards the front door where his gun belt was hanging on the coat rack.

  He reached up – and a bullet whizzed right above his hand, narrowly missing it. He jerked backwards, cursing, and looked back towards the window. He took another de
ep breath and reached for it – there was the sound of another bullet embedding itself in the wall above him and a flare of pain.

  Marcus roared in anger and looked down. The bullet had nicked the side of his right arm. Blood had sprayed against the wall and he heard Angie screaming. He dropped back down and crawled over to her, his back against the cabinets and the window right up above him. The storm was raging now and rain was flying in the open window.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, voice almost drowned out by the sound of the storm.

  “It just grazed me!” he yelled back.

  “Marcus, what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know!” he said. “Wait here! Don’t move!”

  Angie nodded quickly, her face still etched in fear. He started to crawl towards the hallway to his room, then thought better of it and turned around, pressing his lips right against Angie’s. She didn’t kiss back right away – but then she did and Marcus knew that everything was going to be okay.

  He crawled away and made it into the living room. Once he was out of sight from the kitchen window, he stood up and started making his way through the living room, heading towards his room in the roundabout way.

  Just as he crossed in front of the window in the living room, it exploded in a shower of bullets, glass, and rain. Marcus yelled in alarm, dropping to the floor and pushing himself as flat as he could against it. Bullets whizzed over his head, inches from killing him, and embedded into the walls.

  He counted until he thought the clip would be empty – then he jumped to his feet and sprinted towards the back hallway. After a moment’s pause, bullets were peppering the walls but he was safely out of the line of fire.

  He took no chances when he entered his bedroom. He crawled, as low to the ground as possible, and headed towards the back closet. Only once he was safely inside did he stand up and pull the light string.

  Marcus hadn’t been in his closet for some time, yet he remembered exactly where the rifle was stashed. It was an older make, yet no less deadly or accurate. He’d tested it a few months back – it was ready to go.

  Grabbing a box of bullets, he stuffed them in his pocket and crawled back out the way he had come. Going down the hallway directly from his bedroom to the kitchen would be the quickest way, yet it put him directly in line of fire of the gunman shooting through the open kitchen window. He took his time going back through the living room, ensuring that no one was looking in and that he was low enough to the floor.

  Angie was sitting in the same place he had left her. She gave a jump when she saw his form moving through the darkness, but his hand upon her made her smile weakly. The rain blowing in from the open window had soaked her. The sound of the wind howling was almost deafening and lightning flashed, revealing the kitchen.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “I’m going outside,” he told her.

  “What?” she screamed. “Marcus! You can’t! They’ll shoot you for sure!”

  “They won’t be able to see me out there,” he told her, pointing to his eyes. “But I’ll be able to see them.”

  “Don’t leave me,” she begged.

  “I have to,” he assured her, grabbing her head and kissing her forehead. “If I don’t do something, they’ll kill us. All they have to do is keep us pinned in here until they can move closer and closer. We won’t stand a chance.”

  She nodded weakly.

  “Count to 60. Then crawl over to my belt and grab my revolver. Make your way to the bedroom and into the closet. Take the hallway and stay low. Stay there until I come get you.”

  “What if you don’t come back?”

  “I will,” he told her. “I promise.”

  He didn’t want to break a promise, especially to Angie, and he certainly didn’t want to die – but as crawled towards the front door he was unsure how the situation would play out.

  I should have told her I loved her.

  He looked back at her and she smiled.

  I could tell her right now. Crawl back, let her know exactly how I feel. Let her know that I’m sorry for how I’ve treated her.

  But he didn’t. If he wanted to get them out of the situation alive, he would kill whoever was trying to kill them. There was no other way out of it.

  And then he found that he was scared. He wasn’t scared for himself, exactly. But he was scared of failing, of losing, of not coming back and wrapping his arms tightly around Angie.

  He reached up and opened the door, then crawled through it. He was in his mudroom. He made his way to the outside door, taking a few deep breaths, and then opened it.

  He stood up and ran outside into the downpour. It was dark everywhere – he couldn’t see much, even with his enhanced eyesight. The torrential rain was just too much.

  Marcus ran to the left, looking for the shooter that had been shooting through the front window. He had to take him out first so that Angie would able to get the revolver and get to the closet safely. The only place with any sort of cover in that direction was the old barn. He raised his rifle, looking downward, and lightning flashed.

  There.

  Hidden in the back of the barn, covered by one of Marcus’s old tractors, was the shooter. He’d propped the rifle up on the tractor tire, aiming at the front window. Marcus aimed at the darkness where he remembered the man, taking a deep breath and steadying himself. He’d been lucky enough that the man hadn’t seen him with the first flash of lightning.

  He only had one shot.

  The lightning flashed and everything happened at once.

  He saw the man – though he couldn’t make him out – and saw that the man was pointing his rifle towards him. Marcus pulled the trigger and there was darkness. Unsure if he hit him or not, Marcus dropped to his knees in case he needed another shot.

  There was the sound of gunshot cutting through the storm, and Marcus realized that the other gunman – the one shooting into the living room – had gotten the jump on him, and then Marcus felt a flash of pain and he collapsed to the ground.

  Chapter 10

  Angie sat in the darkness, clutching the revolver close to her chest. She’d counted to 60, just like Marcus had told her, crawled to the revolver, and then made her way to the closet. She’d turned the light off and tried to get her breathing under control. Her thumping heart wouldn’t let her, not at first, and she sat inside for nearly ten minutes before she calmed down.

  But once she began to calm down, a sense of dread and foreboding began to settle on her. She tried to keep track of time but the minutes began to blend together. She hadn’t heard from Marcus – but she also hadn’t heard anyone else, either.

  Is he dead? Did they kill him? I should never have let him go outside. But what other choice did we have?

  She listened as hard as she could, straining to hear Marcus in the house. The house was creaky already and she could hear the storm still howling outside, pelting the room with unrelenting fury. She thought she heard a footstep but couldn’t be sure – it could be any number of old house sounds.

  But there – there are footsteps – and she was certain someone was coming through the house. She just hoped it was Marcus.

  She raised the revolver and pulled back the hammer just like Marcus had taught her. Footsteps were coming down the hallway and she heard them pass right behind her. She considered trying to shoot through the wall but quickly gave up that idea. She would give away her position – and if it was Marcus, she’d never forgive herself for shooting him again.

  Whoever it was, they were coming directly into the bedroom. She raised the revolver.

  “Angie?”

  It was Marcus. Relief flooded through her body. She realized her hands had been shaking so hard that she wouldn’t have been able to hit her attacker even if she wanted to. It was a combination of worry for Marcus, just how cold and soaking wet she was, and her terror.

  “Marcus?” she asked. Even her voice was shaky. “I’m in here!”

  “I’m coming in! Don
’t shoot!”

  Angie got up to her feet and pointed the revolver to the floor. The door opened and she saw Marcus standing there, silhouetted in his bedroom light. He reached in and pulled the string light. With a click, it came on, and Angie’s heart dropped.

  He was covered in blood. It was all over his face, running down his neck and soaking through his shirt, which was almost completely red. He reached out and grabbed the revolver from her, put back the hammer, and set it on the dresser next to him.

  “Marcus… oh my God, are you okay?”

  “Fine,” he said, giving her his best smile. “They’re dead.”

  “Dead? But you… you’ve been shot.”

  “I got nicked again,” he told her, pointing to the side of his head. She immediately took his head in her hands, looking him over. He winced in pain but let her. She turned his head towards her where he’d indicated and saw that he had indeed been grazed by a bullet. It had hit the lobe of his ear – she saw that was where most of the blood had come from – and his cheek.

  “You could have died…”

  “I had to do something,” he told her, taking her hands in his own. “I couldn’t let them hurt you. I promised myself I would never let anyone hurt you ever again. I couldn’t, Angie.

  “I would do anything to protect you. Anything.”

  Angie reached her hands up – Marcus winced again – and pulled him towards her. She pressed her lips against his, knowing that she wanted Marcus more than anything else in her life. He kissed back immediately, lips working quickly, their passion almost overwhelming.

  “I could have lost you,” she said through his lips. He peeled her wet shirt over her head and she was doing the same, dropping their wet and bloody clothes on the floor. With her hands on his warm, bare chest, she pushed him backwards to the bed. He fell easily onto it. Angie grabbed at his belt buckle and quickly undid it, not even bothering to take it out before she was pulling his shoes, socks, and pants off.