by Lori Foster
“I was an ass. Stubborn and stupid and I don’t blame you if you’re still angry at me.”
“I’m not.” Denver wasn’t sure what he felt, but anger wasn’t in the mix—not toward his dad. He tipped his head. “Did Pamela finally own up to the truth?”
“She came to me,” Lyle said. “But I already knew. I think I’ve always known.”
And he’d still chosen Pamela.
“I didn’t want to believe it because I knew it’d crush me.” He gave a sad smile. “But she insisted on telling me. She said she still loves me. That it was an unforgivable mistake but she wants my forgiveness anyway.”
Nodding, Denver waited.
“I can more easily forgive her, if you’ll forgive me.”
“Nothing to forgive,” Denver told him.
“That’s not true. There’s everything to forgive.” Lyle drew a deep breath. “I know she loves me, just as I know you’re the only indiscretion she had.”
That made him laugh. Shit. Now he was an indiscretion.
“Denver...”
He scrubbed both hands over his face, then shot to his feet. “I never touched her except to push her away.”
“I know.” He held Denver’s gaze. “She told me that, too.”
“What do you want from me, then?”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, that you hate her now for all the trouble, but that’s more my fault than hers. I was older and should have used my head.”
No way could Denver deny that.
“Will you give her another chance? Give me another chance?”
His mouth twisted with the sneer. “Start over like it never happened?” He strode to the window to look out at the backyard, hoping to see Cherry. She was nowhere in sight, and that worried him. He needed to wrap this up. “I don’t hate her, Dad. I hate what she did. I hate how the situation rolled out. I hate that we lost so much time.” He turned and saw his father’s dejection, and it cut into him, into his heart. He moderated his tone, doing what he could to remove the edge. “But I love you. And if you love her, then sure, I can make nice.”
Hope brought Lyle forward a step. “You mean that?”
Yeah, he did, and now that he’d said it, a weight lifted off his shoulders. He grinned. “Cherry got me here. It’s what she wants.” Mostly because she knew it was important to him, and damn, but didn’t that make her almost too special for words? “I don’t ever want to disappoint her.”
“The way I disappointed you.”
Denver held out his hand. “We’re moving forward, right? No more looking back. It’s not necessary.”
His dad looked at his hand, took it, and pulled Denver in for another big bear hug.
This time he returned it.
A second later his phone rang.
* * *
THEY TALKED ABOUT WEATHER, Pamela complimented her sandals, and Cherry admired her home. All superficial, easy chitchat. Until Pamela led her outside, and instead of going to the seating area, she started around to the side of the house.
“Where are we going?”
Smile strained, Pamela said, “Do you mind? I thought I’d show you the grounds.” She halted, visibly wrestled with herself, and gave Cherry a direct look. “I also wanted to speak with you and I’d just as soon not be overheard by my husband or Denver.”
“Oh.” Thinking Denver might not like it if she got in the middle of things, Cherry said, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Pamela disregarded that. “I’m sure Denver talked with you?”
“About many things.”
“You’re in love,” she said, as if that explained it.
Cherry prayed Denver felt the same, but rather than speak for him, she said only, “I am.”
Clearly distressed, Pamela started walking again. “You must hate me.”
“I barely know you.” Seeing no choice, Cherry hurried to keep up.
“You know of me,” Pamela persisted.
“I know you made mistakes, but then, we all do.”
Stunned, Pamela stared at her.
In for a penny, Cherry thought. She took a breath. “I know Denver is here because he wants to be a part of his father’s life. You’re in that life.” Cherry took her hand, drawing her to a halt. “And I know we can usually right the wrongs when we own up to them, apologize, and never, ever do them again.”
Pamela closed her eyes, a tear squeezed out, and then she smiled. “I’ve kept the lie so long,” she said brokenly. “I haven’t had anyone to talk to. I know, boo-hoo for me. Denver’s life was ruined and—”
“Not ruined at all,” Cherry corrected her. “He’s the strongest man I know. I doubt anyone or anything could ruin his life. But I believe it’s affected him.” Gently she added, “And it clearly affected you. Don’t you think you’ll feel better if you tell the whole truth?”
Pamela nodded. “Yes. I figured that out already. I was afraid...” She groaned. “God, I’m a coward on top of everything else. I wanted Denver to return because my husband isn’t a happy man, not with his son gone. He deserves to be happy. But I was so afraid Denver would show up only to throw my lies out there again.” She brushed the tears off her cheeks. “I talked with Lyle and told him everything.”
For Denver’s sake, Cherry hoped it worked out. “And?”
“It was difficult for both of us. He’s... Well, he’s being kinder than I could have hoped. I think he’s willing to keep the peace right now because he badly wants to mend things with his son.” She let out a shuddering breath. “He said he’d already suspected much of it. The more he thought about it, the more he doubted his own initial reaction. He didn’t want to believe it of me—I don’t even want to believe it of me—but he couldn’t believe it of Denver.”
That was a good start, Cherry decided. So then why did she suddenly feel so uneasy? They were very near the pool house and the elaborate in-ground pool. Rubbing her upper arms to remove the gooseflesh, she looked back at the house. It seemed so far away even though, for convenience sake, the pool was located fairly closely to the back patio.
Turning a full circle, she searched while pretending to admire the beautiful grounds. “This is amazing.”
“Thank you. The pool house was already here, but I changed the roof and added landscaping around it.”
Absently, Cherry said, “You have very good taste.” When the shrubbery behind the pool house trembled, her uneasiness escalated.
She took Pamela’s hand, meaning to lead her away. “The men are probably waiting for us now.” Heart pounding in unmistakable dread, she turned to go—and Carver stepped out, a gun drawn and aimed right at her. Mitty was beside him, laughing in that maniacal way of his.
“Hello, little sister.”
Everything stopped for Cherry—her breath, her pulse, the air around her. “What are you doing here?” she rasped.
At the same time, Pamela said, “Carver?” Confused, she looked at the gun, then at Cherry. “Sister?”
Cherry gaped at her. “You know him?”
“He’s Denver’s friend.”
Groaning, Cherry folded her arms around her stomach as it cramped with fear and misery.
“Yeah,” Carver laughed. “Denver’s sweet stepmama told me where and when to find you both.”
“I...” Feeling the obvious tension, Pamela frowned with worry. “What are you doing, Carver?”
He laughed, the sound disturbed. “You’re as gullible as she is. Denver’s friend? Hell no. Right about now, Gene will be gutting the bastard.”
“No!” Cherry started to run and with every step her fear spiraled. Wasn’t this exactly what she’d expected? A surprise ambush. A cowardly attack when it was least expected.
She sensed Carver chasing her down and pushed harder, but her heels were sinking into the lush lawn and her lungs tightened, making it impossible to breathe.
Then a hand snatched at her hair, jerking her back forcefully. She cried out as Carver squeezed her against him.
Desperate, nearly hysterical, she fought him until he pressed the gun to her temple.
His hot breath in her ear, he whispered, “None of that now, sweet Cherry.”
“What have you done?” She meant to shout it, but it came as only a squeak of sound. Gene was good with the knife, and just as Carver enjoyed tormenting, Gene enjoyed cutting. No, no, no. Not Denver. “Please,” she pleaded. “Don’t do this.”
Carver twisted his hand in her hair, but spoke to Pamela. “Sorry babe, but I need you to stay put. Mitty, hang on to her. If either of you make a single sound, I’ll start shooting.”
He was worried about her screaming? Did that mean Gene hadn’t gotten to Denver yet? Uncaring about her own peril, leaving Pamela to fend for herself, Cherry sucked in a great lungful of air and let loose a banshee cry that sent a flock of birds into flight.
“Jesus! Shut the fuck up.” Carver jerked her around and shook her hard until her knees gave out and she dropped to the ground, her head rattled and her limbs weak. He crouched beside her, his hand braced hard on her throat. “You used to hide.”
“I had to.”
His fingers tightened. “You always dodged out on me and no matter where I looked I couldn’t find you.”
“You wanted to rape me!”
“I wanted you, period. All kinds of want, Cherry.” He breathed a little deeper while he looked at her body. “No place for you to hide now, is there?”
“You’re going to be sorry.” Somehow she’d make it so.
The threat didn’t faze him, but his fingers squeezed more until she gasped and clawed at his hand. Smiling, he eased up the pressure. “It pisses me off to think of that long-haired Neanderthal fucking you night after night.”
It took her a second to regain her breath, but she knew she had to defy him. She gave herself only a moment to brace for his reaction, then stared up at him. “Day after day,” she taunted in a rough rasp. “Morning, noon and night.”
His brows pulled down. “You mouthy little bitch. You think I’ll take that crap from you?” Again his fingers squeezed, tighter and tighter.
She saw stars but at the moment she felt no pain, just a numb, pervading fear. Pamela stood frozen while Mitty smiled at her.
She listened for Denver. Please let him be okay.
Laughing, Carver again let up the pressure and moved his hand to the neckline of her dress, tracing a fingertip just above the material. “Maybe you need to learn another lesson, little sister. I had planned to get you back in the woods. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Communing with nature...and all the creepy crawlies?” He laughed at her automatic shiver. “But you know, maybe it’d be better if I take you right here while he’s inside whining to his daddy. I’m betting that’d wipe the memory of him right out of your head.”
“You can’t,” she told him, her voice now hoarse. “A pathetic worm like you wouldn’t even put a dent into how I feel about him.”
Before her eyes, his rage coalesced, growing brighter, hotter. When he drew back his fist, Cherry braced herself.
In the next instant, Carver literally flew away from her. Thinking only of getting to Denver, Cherry started to scramble up—but then he was already there, lifting her up against his chest and holding her close like he’d never let her go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A LITTLE DAZED, Cherry touched his face to make sure he was real. “Denver?”
“I’m so sorry, honey.” His mouth touched her forehead, her cheek. “So fucking sorry.”
She looked beyond him and saw Armie holding the gun on Mitty, who knelt cradling his obviously broken arm. Carver sprawled on the ground, with Stack’s boot on his throat.
That had to have happened fast—and she hadn’t heard a thing. “What—”
“Gene caught me by surprise.” Denver smoothed back her hair, cradled her face gently. “He managed to cut Dad before I could put him under.”
Crying out, Pamela took off in a panicked run.
With her heartbeat just starting to return to normal, Cherry watched her go. “She’s fast.”
Denver squeezed her tighter, sort of laughing, mostly breathing hard. “God, girl, are you okay?”
Sensing he was on the edge, Cherry put her arms around him. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”
“I’ll be better in a minute.” Gently he set her down.
Struggling to get her wits back, Cherry grabbed for him. “Your father?”
“He’s got a nasty cut on his shoulder, but he’ll be fine once he gets some stitches.” He cupped her face, turned it this way and that. “He hit you?”
“No.”
Denver tipped up her chin, examined her neck, and his expression went stony. “He choked you?”
Armie spoke up, asking, “Want me to kill him?”
Oh God. Cherry took in the look in Armie’s eyes and believed him capable.
Denver shook his head. “Logan and Reese are on their way.”
“Already?” With each second that passed, Cherry felt better, less frantic, less terrorized.
Less haunted by her past.
Denver had Carver and somehow he’d end it all today.
Swallowing hard, Denver closed his eyes a moment. “I told you I’d protect you.”
“You have,” she whispered.
“Not well enough. I knew Pamela had spoken with Carver, so I had the guys keeping an eye out. But I thought you were safe here or I’d never have let you out of my sight.”
“You didn’t know Carver had gotten details on the party.” And then, hoping he wouldn’t hate Pamela more, she rushed to say, “Pamela thought he was your friend. She was as stunned to see him as I was.”
He nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that, but I knew she’d talked with him, so I had someone tailing us, just in case.”
“Armie and Stack?”
“Tonight. But Leese, Cannon, Gage, Brand and Miles have all agreed to help out, too.” He tucked her hair behind her ears. “You have a lot of people who care about you.”
It was more about those people being loyal to Denver, but she was happy to be included. “I need to thank them.”
With a strangled laugh, he put his forehead to hers. “You’re always wanting to thank someone.” Just as quickly, he sobered again. “Leese will talk with the detectives tomorrow. He can verify that Carver drugged him, that they beat the shit out of him, all to get to you.”
Carver struggled. “That’s a lie.”
Denver touched her one last time, then turned away. “Let him go, Stack.”
The second Stack moved his foot away, Carver lunged up, heaving. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
Denver nodded. “Let’s go.”
With an ear-splitting war cry, Carver charged. Denver stood his ground until Carver had almost reached him. Then he moved so fast that Cherry saw it as a blur. She’d just sucked in a breath of fear when Denver halted Carver’s rush with a massive fist to his face, followed by a kick that sent Carver sprawling back to the ground.
Impassive, Denver again waited.
More slowly, Carver stood, and this time he approached with caution, his fists up, his eyes narrowed. Carver swung and missed; Denver struck him on the chin. Carver swung and missed; Denver landed a blow to his temple.
Less steady, his fists dropping a little, Carver took another stance. Denver kicked out, catching Carver in the face. Blood sprayed, and Carver went flat, dead to the world. That wouldn’t last, so he switched his gaze to Mitty.
When the big man snarled, Armie gave him a shove. “Get on with it, will you?”
“Fuck you.” Mitty stalked forward, his hot, furious gaze a laser beam on Denver.
Watching him, Denver waited until his patience wore thin. When Mitty was still several feet away, Denver strode within range. Mitty threw a hook, but Denver caught him with a series of straight punches, backing him up with each combo of left-right, left-right, until he finished with a knee to the gut. As Mitty bent forward, Denver nailed him with a straight right that sen
t him flat to his back. He was so big that when he hit, Cherry thought she felt the ground shake.
Stack checked his watch. “I’m guessing you’ve got three minutes more, tops.”
Nodding, Denver said, “Get her out of here.”
Understanding what he planned, Cherry scrambled to her feet. “I want to stay.”
He looked at her over his shoulder. “Cherry—”
She put up her chin. “I’m staying.” With a flicker toward Carver, she admitted, “I want to watch.”
Denver searched over her face, gave a slight smile, and turned back to Mitty. “You first.” And so saying, he hit Mitty fifteen, maybe twenty times in a row, until the big man collapsed, choking on his own blood, curled in the fetal position.
Although the beat-down lasted less than a minute, it did the job. He wouldn’t be getting back up.
Glad, Cherry clasped her hands together and resisted biting her lip.
Through it all, Carver just sat there on the ground, doing his best to regain his wits.
“Up.”
Carver shook his head. “Where’s Gene?”
“I left him unconscious. I broke his knife arm in two places, bad enough that he’ll never play with sharp objects again.”
Cherry smiled. So many times she’d seen Gene threaten and intimidate with that big hideous blade. But no more.
She couldn’t wait to tell Denver how much she loved him.
“Broke his nose, too.” Denver nodded at Carver. “Now get up, you sniveling puke, so I can give you some of the same.”
Carver eyed his brother, the mangled condition of his face, and he shook his head. “I’ll just wait for the cops.”
Denver laughed. “Doesn’t work like that.” He reached for Carver, got slugged in the chin, and barely flinched. In fact, satisfaction shone in his predator’s gaze. “There you go. Might as well give it a try, right?”
“You’re insane.”
“I love her.” Denver shrugged his massive shoulder. “That means it’s going to take all I have not to kill you.”
Cherry gasped. With both hands she covered her mouth. Denver loved her? She frowned. Hell of a time to tell her!