by Lisa Jackson
She pulled her jacket around her more tightly and wondered how long she would have to wait.
Not long.
She wasn’t going to waste her time.
Creeaak.
The sound echoed through the yard and she shot a quick look over her shoulder to spy the broken, lopsided merry-go-round slowly spinning, rotating on its ancient spindle, casting a moving shadow beneath the solitary lamp.
What the hell?
The merry-go-round was turning from the wind?
But the breeze was slight, not strong enough to push the old structure on its rusting pivot. For a second she thought of the ghost stories they’d told one another as kids, insisting that the chapel was haunted.
“Just kids being kids,” she whispered now, but her skin was prickling and her nerves were strung as tight as the strings of Sister Catherine’s cello.
It’s nothing.
But she decided it was time to go. This was a ridiculous place to meet, anyway.
Why had he even suggested it to begin with?
Why had she agreed?
Oh, yeah, because they each had a connection here, to this complex, and they’d both gone to elementary school here.
So what? She was out.
She reached into her pocket for her keys.
The merry-go-round slowed, groaning to a stop.
Her heart began to race.
She started for the door to the school and heard the clank of chains. What?
Turning quickly, she swept her gaze over the entire yard to land on the pipe structure from which the swings were suspended. Of the three swings, one was broken, missing its seat, the second unmoving, and the third swaying slightly, its chains rattling as if someone had just gotten off.
That was it.
She was out of here.
Now!
Even if he was here, trying to scare her, she was over it. Their romantic trysts had been sexy and wanton, wild and dangerous, but this, being scared out of her mind like this? When someone she knew had just been murdered?
Nope.
She’d been an idiot to agree to it.
Walking quickly, she made her way to the door she’d used to enter the area, grabbed the big handle, and tugged.
The door didn’t budge.
What?
But she’d just unlocked it....
She pulled again.
Nothing.
Crap!
If he was out here and this was supposed to be some kind of a joke, she’d kill him. She decided to tell him so. “If you think this is turning me on with all this cloak and dagger stuff, you’re wrong.”
No response.
Fear skittered up her spine.
Did something move over by the chapel door, in the alcove of the doorway? Her heart clamored.
She fumbled with her keys, forced the right one into the door. The lock clicked open.
Thank God!
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump!
Faster and faster.
The sound of bats flying, whirring overhead?
No!
Footsteps, running. Gaining speed. Toward her. She pulled the door open, and—
Bam! A big gloved hand shoved it closed.
The razor-sharp edge of the door scraped her finger, digging into her flesh. “Ow! Shit!”
“Nuh-uh-uh,” a voice growled at her ear, warm and heavy and not the one she’d expected.
A new fear slithered through her.
Who was this guy?
He pressed his body against hers. She felt him hard against her back. Felt his damned erection pressing into her buttocks through her clothes, gloved hands tangling in her hair, tightening.
No, oh, God, no!
She started to scream, but he slammed her forehead against the door so hard her nose cracked. Light flashed behind her eyes. Pain screamed through her brain. Blood gushed. Stunned, she sagged. Her knees buckled and she would have sunk down but his body kept her upright, pinned to the door.
Her scream was faint. A moan. She heard her keys, jarred from the lock, clink against the concrete
Don’t pass out, Annessa. Do not! Fight! Scream! Yell! This guy was going to rape her or kill her or both. She opened her mouth to scream again. Tasted blood running down her throat.
Who was he? Why was he doing this?
Fight, Annessa! Fight, damn it!
Despite his weight pressed against her, she tried to twist, to squirm out of his grasp, but she could barely move. Her arms flailed uselessly; her legs were pinned against the metal door.
Another attempted scream.
Big gloved hands encircled her throat.
Don’t panic! Just get free. Somehow, get away! Now!
He shifted; her legs moved. Frantically, she kicked and swung with her arms, her hands batting wildly as she tried to scream but only wheezed as his steely fingers gripped harder. Dug into her flesh. Crushing. Woozily, she realized she was being lifted off her feet. She kicked wildly! Lost a shoe. Heard it thud against the door.
Kick him! Hit him! Bite him! Get him off you, Annessa! Don’t let him win. Do not!
Fight with all you’ve got. He’s going to kill you!
She struggled.
Her lungs burned.
The other shoe fell away.
Frantically, she tried and failed to drag in even the slightest amount of air.
Nothing!
Oh, God.
Her lungs felt as if they would explode.
Blackness pulled at her consciousness.
Please, God, don’t let me die this way. Help me!
She swung as hard as she could but her arm dropped uselessly.
The fingers around her neck pressed harder.
Through the pain she realized she was about to pass out. There was nothing she could do but give in. As the blackness came, the old prayer whispered through her. Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women....
CHAPTER 20
Her bedroom was dark.
Quiet.
Other than the frantic beating of her heart.
Come on. Do it. Now.
Holding her breath, Harper slid open the window and braced herself. She hardly dared breathe. Waiting expectantly, she didn’t hear a siren shriek or see lights flash on in warning. It worked! Dylan, that cretin, had done what she’d asked and disconnected the security alarm’s circuit running to her room.
Thank God!
She let out her breath slowly, still not convinced that she wouldn’t be caught sneaking out. But Reno didn’t start barking madly, nor did her mother’s feet hit the floor of her bedroom overhead.
So far, so good.
Heart pounding, she slipped on her running shoes, hoisted herself up on the windowsill. Balancing there, she turned herself around and slid down the side of the house. Then she pushed the window almost all of the way closed, paused just long enough to text again. Once she hit SEND, she took off, running along the hedgerow to the back of the house and then sprinting down a side street, moving quickly, just as she had in the hundred-yard dash when she was running track.
The spring air was cool, the night clear, darkness crouching beyond the lights of the town. She felt wild and edgy as she ran, her hair streaming behind her. The doubts that she was doing the right thing shrank, just as Lucas said they would. Her cousin had introduced Xander to Harper even though she’d claimed she wasn’t interested. “He’s too old, in college. God, he lives like, what? A million miles away.”
“It’s only about three hours, maybe a little longer, and so what?” Lucas had said, his blue eyes glinting. “He’s a good guy. Yeah, he can get his wild on, I guess, but he’s up here all the time, working or interning or something for my dad. He saw you when your mom brought you over to the house once, a couple of weeks ago, and thought you were hot, wanted me to set you up, I guess. And it’s not that big of a deal. He just wants to meet you; it’s not like it’s forever or anything.”
“Mom wo
uld kill me,” she’d argued, but she’d been intrigued.
“She doesn’t have to know.” Lucas had grinned then. He’d been enjoying this, and for as long as she could remember, he’d been at odds with his own mother and stepfather—her grandfather. Always giving them fits and loving it. “Come on, Harper, what’ve you got to lose? Aren’t you tired of always doing what your mom thinks is best?” He’d let out a snort of disgust. “Besides, you may not like him. This all might be a big waste of time.” He’d lifted a shoulder and Harper had decided he was right. She and Lucas weren’t all that tight, but in this case, she thought, he had a point. And because of it, she’d met the most wonderful guy in the world. Her soul mate.
She raced under a low-hanging branch, fir needles brushing her hair.
Would he be there? Waiting, as they’d planned? Oh, God, she hoped so. Staying out of the pools of light cast by a few street lamps, avoiding buckles in the sidewalk, she ran around the corner and spied his Jeep idling by the curb, no lights visible.
Her heart soared.
She watched as the passenger door opened, the overhead light offering feeble illumination, but enough that she recognized Xander as he leaned across the seat, his near-black hair falling over his forehead, his teeth flashing in lips that slanted into a quick, heart-stopping grin.
God, she loved him.
“You made it,” he whispered as she slid into the interior and pulled the door shut behind her.
“Yeah. Piece of cake. Let’s go.”
“You’re sure she won’t check on you?”
“She never does. Not after what she calls her ‘perimeter check,’ when she’s going upstairs. Every damned night. It’s an OCD thing.” She glanced up at him. “Or maybe something worse, but then she leaves us alone until it’s time to get up.”
“Good.”
He kissed her first and she melted inside at the touch of his warm lips. His teeth flashed in the darkness. God, she’d really done it. As dangerous as it was. She’d snuck out in the middle of the night. Her mother would kill her if she found out, but Harper couldn’t stand it anymore. She was being treated like a prisoner in the house, and her mother just didn’t get how she felt about Xander. He was different from the boys in high school. Smarter. Funnier. More worldly. He made her previous boyfriends—both of them—seem like junior-highers in comparison.
She felt better already, just being with him.
He slipped the Jeep into gear but paused. “I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
“Too late.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m here, aren’t I? And, oh yeah, I’m sure.” Of course she wasn’t, but she wasn’t about to let him know that.
“All right.” He kissed her again, then flashed a conspiratorial grin her way. With the lights still off, he pulled away from the curb. At the cross street, he turned on the headlamps, then drove them out of the neighborhood and through the sparse traffic to the place they’d agreed to go: her grandfather’s little retreat at the law offices and Xander’s crash pad when he was working for Charles Ryder.
The studio apartment was used infrequently for guests or clients of the small firm, or, once in a while, for Charles, if he was working late. However, this time Xander had use of the studio when he was working for the firm, either in the office or doing odd jobs, which included some repair work to the building. Xander had adjusted his schedule so that he had more free days during the week as well as time on the weekends.
Which was perfect!
It was only natural that he’d want Harper to spend some time alone with him there. So far she hadn’t, but tonight . . .
She swallowed hard, her heart beating like a drum, and wondered if she was making an irreversible mistake.
But she wasn’t going there. Not now. She was with Xander and she wanted to be here, with him, and no matter what, she had the right to live her own life, to fall in love with whomever she pleased. No, she wasn’t going to second-guess herself. At least not tonight.
He parked in the lot that separated the law office from the property to the west, the old St. Augustine School.
He led her to the back door and inside to a staircase. Up the stairs they hurried to the second floor and her grandfather’s little apartment, one room with a connecting bath and a kitchen stretched along one wall. A television was aglow in the corner, some late-late show turned down low. A café table with two tall chairs sat in a spot near the single window, with its view across the parking lot to the fenced school yard next door, the school property.
A single lamp burned near the sofa, but he snapped it off, picked up the remote, and killed the TV as well. The room became darker, the only bit of shifting light coming from the partially open window, where a security lamp offered a cool blue aura, and a soft breeze entered, dissipating some of the smell of a recently applied coat of paint.
Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her close. Then he kissed her. Gently at first and then more urgently, in a way that made her tingle all over, a way that caused her bones to melt. His tongue was pure magic, touching and flicking with hers, and she kissed him back, closing her eyes and losing herself.
This was what it was like to be in love. Real love. Not puppy love or whatever you called it.
He bent his knees and they tumbled onto the makeshift bed, a small part of her wondering if she was making a mistake, but just a very small part.
This was sooo right.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, kicking off his shoes.
“Me too.” She toed off one Nike, then the other, kicked them away.
He kissed her again, his hands slipping under her sweatshirt and up her abdomen, his fingertips brushing across the top of her breast. Within her bra, her nipple tightened. She was breathing faster than normal as he yanked off his hoody and T-shirt, exposing a ripple of muscles on his chest and abdomen.
“C’mon,” he said and helped her out of her sweatshirt and began kissing the top of her breasts. A low moan escaped her throat as he skimmed the lace of her bra with his tongue, his warm breath piercing the sheer fabric.
Deep inside, she began to ache, to want.
She reveled in the feel of his weight as he rolled atop her, pinning her down with his hips and levering himself on an elbow to stare down at her.
This is dangerous! a part of her brain was screaming as he turned her slightly, reaching behind and unhooking her bra, tugging on the scrap of lace until it fell away.
No, no, no! This is so right. Meant to be, an arguing part of her mind replied.
Harper ignored her doubts and told herself to just trust him. To love him.
She felt his gaze skate down her body.
His face was in shadow, the whites of his eyes visible, the scent of him filling her nostrils as the room closed in on her, growing more intimate, making her feel that they were alone in the universe, two like souls.
“I love you,” he whispered across her breast, the warm air inviting, his words seductive. He touched the very tip of her nipple with his tongue and she felt the slow-growing need deep within, a pulsing desire. Instinctively, she reached up, laced her fingers through his thick hair, and pulled his head closer, forcing her breast into his mouth, arched her back, felt the hardness beneath his jeans.
This was right, so right . . . and . . . and . . .
Creeeeeak, the sound like a heavy bough swaying in the wind rippled through the room.
Harper froze.
Her heart thudded as she strained to listen.
“Help,” a weak voice reached through the room.
He, too, became a statue. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes.”
They waited.
Nothing.
“What was it?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
His brows slammed together and he looked worried. He turned his head to stare at the window, then slowly rolled out of the bed. “Sounded close.” He headed for the window.
Creee
ak!
Harper went completely cold inside.
The disembodied woman’s voice said more loudly, “Please . . . help me.”
“Jesus. Let’s go,” Xander said with a glance through the glass. Then he scooped his sweatshirt from the floor and yanked it over his head.
“Go?”
“We’ve got to help her, whoever she is.” He flung back the hood.
“No. Wait.” Pointing at Harper, he said, “You stay here. I’ll go.”
“No, I’m not staying here alone.” The idea was impossible. “We . . . we should call the police.”
He slanted her a look. “Don’t you think your dad might take the call? Is that what you want to do?”
“No, but—” She scrambled to find her bra, located it on the floor.
“Stay here. Lock the door. I’ll go check it out and if I have to call the police you’ll be okay. Just don’t open the door. I’ll text you.”
“No!” She was already hooking the clasps behind her back, snapping her bra into place. “If you’re going, I’m going.”
“I don’t think that’s a great idea.” He stepped into his shoes.
“Better than me being here. Alone.”
“Shit.” He looked about to argue but the voice came again. This time weaker. “Help. Please, someone help me.”
“I’m going with you,” Harper said, pulling on her own sweatshirt.
“Don’t argue.” She scrambled to find her shoes. One was under the bed.... Oh shit, where was the other one? She switched the bedside lamp on, blinked in the sudden brightness, but caught a glimpse of the toe of her shoe poking out from beneath the coffee table.
“Then stick close.” He was already at the door as she yanked on her shoes.
“Jesus.” They started for the stairs.
She was one step behind. Outside, they raced across the parking lot, scaring a marauding cat into hissing and dashing across the street.
Xander eyed the tall fence. Over six feet, it surrounded the property that had once been St. Augustine’s church, school, and hospital.