by AJ Quinn
After picking up Kellen’s wet clothes, she left Bogart to watch over her and walked out to the kitchen. Annie was there, sitting at the table holding a bottle of wine, while Cody and Ren were at the stove making soup and sandwiches.
“Our hearts were all in the right place, but the girls are being much more practical than I was,” Annie said as she opened the wine bottle. “Soup is probably about all Kel will be able to handle when she gets up. But I thought I’d bring some wine, just in case.”
“Well, if Kellen’s not interested in the wine, I certainly am.”
“Me too.” Annie filled two glasses before asking, “How is she?”
“Overwhelmed, I think.” Dana wet her throat with the wine.
Annie nodded. “She has enough to deal with right now. I don’t know what to do for her, what to say. I don’t know how to help her, and I hate the thought that my father has somehow made things worse.”
“What your father did was probably the single most incredible thing anyone has ever done for Kellen,” Dana said. “But at the same time, I think she felt humiliated to think he saw the photographs and read the reports detailing what her father did to her.”
“That’s not—”
“She knows that wasn’t the senator’s intent.” Dana reached out and held Annie’s hand while Cody set soup bowls in front of them. “Or she will once she’s calmer and feeling a bit better.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so. But with everything else she’s been going through, with Tim getting hurt and the shooter getting so close, I don’t think she can deal with any more.”
“You’d be right.”
Dana turned at the sound of Kellen’s voice and saw her. Standing barefoot in the shadows, her damp, tangled hair haloing a pale face and accenting dark, tired eyes. “Hey, you. How come you’re up? I had hoped maybe you’d sleep for a bit.”
“My head.” Kellen shrugged uncomfortably. “I couldn’t get it to shut down. And I thought—I realized—I guess I didn’t want to be alone.” Before she could say another word, Ren was across the room and in her arms, almost knocking them both over.
“I love you, Kellen. Are you all right now?”
Dana felt her throat tighten as she watched Kellen hold Ren tight and run her hand through the girl’s silky hair. “I love you too, Ren. Don’t ever doubt that. And I’m fine. Just fine.”
“Cody and I made soup and sandwiches, and Annie brought wine.”
Approaching the table with her arm still draped around Ren’s shoulders, Kellen smiled tentatively. “My stomach’s not feeling too friendly at the moment, so I’m pretty sure I’m not up to wine. And though the soup smells wonderful, I think I’ll pass and maybe just have some juice.”
“I’ll get it for you.”
While Ren went to the fridge for the juice, Kellen looked at Dana and Annie, her face tinged with something akin to embarrassment. “I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I think everything got the better of me. I’ll give the senator a call later and apologize.”
“He’d like to hear from you,” Annie said. “But don’t ever feel you need to apologize for being human.”
“Human?” Kellen dropped into a chair and let out a long breath. With a slightly bemused smile, she added, “I guess that means I’m not superwoman anymore.”
Dana got up and wrapped her arms around Kellen. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”
“Please,” Cody said as Ren put the juice in front of Kellen and sat back down. “There are impressionable children present.”
Ren laughed, and for at least a moment the world felt normal.
Mine. The thought—or feeling—had occurred to Dana the last time she and Kellen had made love. It now returned full force, except this time she realized the love she felt included Ren and Cody.
Life was curious, she mused. When she’d first come to Haven, she’d been looking to escape her family and find a place far removed from where she’d grown up. She’d been looking for a place she’d fit in. A place she could call home.
She’d found all of that. But somehow, in finding Haven, she’d also found herself a family.
*
“You haven’t eaten,” Dana said after everyone had left. “And you really could use a meal. Why don’t you let me make you something? It doesn’t have to be much. Some soup, maybe, or even just some toast.”
Kellen shook her head. “No thanks, maybe later. There’s something else I want first.”
“Name it and it’s yours. What can I get you?”
“You.” Kellen put her hands on Dana’s face and kissed her. Long and slow and deep. She slid her fingers through silky blond hair as Dana’s arms came around her. Took comfort and tried to give some in return. “You make me feel strong and whole. Like my past doesn’t matter to you. Like I can do anything, walk down any path, and you’ll be there with me. Standing beside me.”
“I am.” Dana kissed her brow, her lips, her throat. “I will be. For as long as you want me to be.”
“What if I don’t want to let you go?”
Dana eased back so that their eyes met. “I’d say that would be perfect.”
With the fire stoked and Bogart settled for the night, they walked into the bedroom, undressed, and slid onto the bed. Facing each other, they touched. Explored. As if it was their first time coming together. Tender, loving hands. Slow caresses. Quiet whispers. Unhurried passion. A gentle rise and an intimacy that came from the heart and touched the soul.
Kellen knew she’d never be as good or as comfortable with words as Dana was. But in this, in completely surrendering herself to her lover, she hoped she was saying more to Dana than words ever could.
*
Kellen looked every bit as tired as Dana felt the next morning. She found her in the kitchen, hair still wet from a shower, leaning against the counter drinking coffee.
Kellen smiled when Dana approached, but her eyes were deeply shadowed, proof if needed of yet another restless night. Dana could see it even if Kellen refused to admit it. And when Dana touched her back, the set of her muscles confirmed she was tired and tense at the same time.
Maybe when this was all done, what Kellen needed was a few weeks of skiing and laughing and loving to take away the shadows behind her smile. Dana planned to make it so.
“Why don’t you go back to bed and get some sleep?” Dana suggested.
Rubbing a hand over her face, Kellen gamely put on a brave front. “It’s a nice thought, especially if you were to join me.”
She inched closer and kissed Dana, softly at first and then with increasing enthusiasm. Dana responded with a muffled sound of pleasure, deep in her throat. The sound was involuntary, uncalculated. But she noticed it seemed to further ignite Kellen’s passion.
At the next opportunity, she tipped her head back and looked at Kellen. “Tell me, do you like women who are…vocally demonstrative?”
Kellen laughed softly and traced a knuckle along Dana’s jaw. “If you’re vocal, then I like that. If you’re not, then I’m fine with that too. What I like is you—in my arms and in my bed.”
“Hell of a good answer,” Dana murmured as she slipped her hands under Kellen’s sweater so she could touch the skin that lay just beneath. Kellen smiled in a way that said she liked it as much as Dana did.
She reached for Kellen’s hand and was about to lead her back into the bedroom when she heard a soft knock on the door.
Kellen groaned. “Damn.”
Dana seconded her sentiment. She kept her arms wrapped around Kellen’s waist and held on a moment longer. She felt uneasy but could see that while Bogart looked toward the door, he didn’t alert. It told her the knock might be an ill-timed interruption, but they would not find a foe on the other side of the door.
She opened the door, acknowledged Grant, and then waved him inside while Kellen poured an extra cup of coffee and set it on the table for him.
Grant paused long enough to take a grateful swallow. “You were right
when you thought the shooter might be connected to someone you’d trained in the past. We’ve identified him. His name is Douglas Broussard.”
Kellen turned and looked out the window, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I trained someone by the name of Tommy Lee Broussard about three years ago,” she said. “He hailed from some out-of-the-way parish in Louisiana, down by the Gulf. Any relation?”
“The shooter’s his father.”
“Damn.” Kellen closed her eyes. “That means Tommy Lee’s—”
“Dead. Yes. He died about a year and a half ago. Killed in an avalanche in southern Chile. Did you know him well?”
“Yes. He was really something, a natural,” Kellen said softly. “Fearless but never foolish. Great instincts. I wanted to hire him after the first time I worked a callout with him. He knew it too, but he begged me not to say the words. He’d spent his whole life in a small backwater town, and he wanted to travel, see something of the world before settling down. And he knew if I offered him a job, he’d take it and possibly regret later that he never had a chance to explore. He asked me to give him time, three years to get the travel bug out of his system, and then, if I was still interested, he’d gladly come on board. We both knew I’d still be interested.”
“I’m so sorry,” Dana murmured and put her hand on Kellen’s shoulder, offering what solace and support she could with her touch.
“Tommy Lee had two older brothers,” Grant said. “Declan and Nathan Broussard run a pair of fishing boats. It’s what Broussard senior expected of all three boys, and according to Declan, his father took Tommy Lee’s death hard. Surprising because strained would be a safe characterization of Broussard’s relationship with Tommy Lee. Regardless, he blames you for filling his boy’s head with thoughts of seeing the world.”
“I—”
“It doesn’t have to be the truth,” Dana said. “It’s what the man chose as a way of rationalizing what happened. It made it easier for him to deal with his son’s death.”
Grant nodded. “Douglas Broussard grew up hard, in and around the Louisiana swamps. He got out briefly and did a stint in the army, which turned him into a sharpshooter. After he got home, he began using his newfound skills to bring in extra income, mostly hunting alligators, sometimes running contraband.”
“Do they have any idea where he is?”
Grant shook his head. “According to his sons, he disappeared about a month before the first shooting happened and hasn’t been home since, although he’s maintained sporadic contact with both boys. The only thing they know for sure is he plans to see this through all the way. He has no intention of going home again.”
“Oh, Jesus.” Dana murmured. “What happens now?”
Chapter Twenty-four
There was a storm brewing. Kellen could feel it in her bones, smell it in the wind, and sense it in the tension in the air.
She sat on the front step of her cabin, Bogart by her feet, and stared out into the growing darkness. Shadows slipped and fell, pushing and pulling at her from all directions. But they didn’t change the one incontrovertible fact echoing in her head.
Douglas Broussard was out there somewhere.
The truth cut through her, bringing with it a penetrating chill. She’d felt his presence before. The only difference was then he had been an unknown presence. Now she knew who he was. She could put a face to the specter shadowing her life.
The FBI had made it clear they were prepared to wait him out. They said he was hurt and, sooner or later, he’d be unable to continue the game of cat and mouse he was currently playing with her. He would act more rashly and make a mistake. And when he did, they’d be ready.
But Kellen didn’t want to think about the endless possibilities that lay between sooner and later. Because she knew Broussard would do whatever he needed, including hurt people who were important to her. Anything that meant driving her out from behind a phalanx of FBI protection, if only for a second or two.
According to Grant, he was that good. He wouldn’t need much more than an instant to take her out. She shuddered and wondered if that was meant to somehow reassure and comfort her. It will be over quickly.
The FBI had brought Harrison Parker into the discussion, bringing him up to date and advising him against attending the clinic’s grand opening. True to form, the senator refused to even consider it. Said both he and his wife would be there. For Annie and for Kellen. Even though everyone agreed if Broussard wanted to make a statement, the gala and the number of public figures present would give him a perfect platform.
Which left her exactly where?
Thinking about what was coming and wondering what, if anything, she could do to alter the course of events. Kellen didn’t want to put anyone else at risk. But she also believed she’d been punished enough for some transgression or wrongdoing she hadn’t even committed.
And the cost had been high. Her childhood. Her parents. She’d been left with only memories of horror, ugliness, and betrayals. Remnants of broken dreams. How could she now—
“You must be freezing, sitting out here by yourself. Are you okay?” Dana’s voice wrapped itself around her just before she felt warm hands on her shoulders.
“Just tired.” She started to deflect, then stopped herself. After so many years when there’d been no one, she had never learned how to open herself up. How to share. But the opportunity to make a course correction was lost as her phone rang.
“My son is dead.”
Kellen remained where she was, apprehension running through her, and she wondered how close he was. Was he nearby? She was numbed by the realization he could have her squarely in the crosshairs of his rifle.
“I know Tommy Lee’s dead, Mr. Broussard. I’m sorry. He was a good man.”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry,” he replied, his voice brimming with unrelieved grief. “You might as well have killed him yourself, filling the boy’s head with thoughts of traveling to godforsaken places and becoming some kind of hero. It’s your fault he got himself killed.”
“Mr. Broussard—”
“Don’t bother. There’s nothing you can say that will make me change my mind. I’m just calling to tell you that you’ll pay through everything and everyone you love. You will know a hurt so deep you won’t want to go on. By the time I’m done, you’ll be begging me to kill you. That’s a promise.”
He hung up as if the conversation was finished, leaving Kellen holding the phone to her ear a few seconds longer. She knew she should call Grant. But not yet. Not yet.
*
Dana watched her for a long moment, not bothering to be subtle about it. Kellen’s face was still and pale. And when she looked into her eyes, for an instant it was as if Kellen allowed her in, and she could see something dark and anxious and heavy.
“That was him.”
Kellen nodded slowly.
“What did he say to you, Kellen?” When Kellen remained silent, she tried again. “Tell me what I can do to help.”
“Just be with me.”
The quiet words whispered through her. Touched her in ways and in places she’d never been touched before Kellen entered her life. She didn’t understand how it had happened any more than she understood the quickening that burned through her every time Kellen was near.
Uncertain what to do, she did the only thing that occurred to her. She sat on the front step beside Kellen, wrapped her arm around her, and drew her closer. And then she waited for Kellen to talk about whatever a killer had just said to her.
“This place—Broussard is threatening this place and everyone in it. Everyone who means anything to me.”
“He’s trying to get to you,” Dana said. “He wants to frighten you.”
“He succeeded.” The emotion was evident in her voice. “And if you leave—”
“What?” Dana turned Kellen’s face toward her until their gazes met and locked. “Why would I leave? What’s going on?”
“I was thinking—”
“Th
inking too much is more like it.”
“That may be.” She shrugged and looked away. “But it occurs to me if you stay here, if you’re anywhere near me, for as long as Broussard is out there trying to hurt me, it puts you at risk. So I’ll understand if you leave, if you choose to go someplace else, someplace safe. In fact, that might be the smartest thing to do. But then I’d no longer fit in your life. This is the only place I’ve ever fit. Either way, I stand to lose you.”
Her voice stopped Dana cold. It was filled with pain and pleading and hope. And Dana knew she had to formulate her response carefully. Thoughtfully. Without putting any more pressure on—fuck it.
“Kellen, that’s just crazy,” she said calmly. “I’m not going anywhere. What’s more, I have no intention of going anywhere in the foreseeable future. Not without you, unless it’s a beach somewhere we can skinny-dip and make love under the stars. So you might as well get used to the idea.”
“Promise?” As soon as the word escaped her, Kellen shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. Please don’t answer that. I’m not being fair and it’s not realistic.”
Dana lifted a hand and smoothed a silky dark strand of hair from Kellen’s face, tucking it behind her ear. She knew with everything going on around them, it would be crazy to even think of making a promise right now.
“I promise,” she said. “And just so we’re clear, you may not think so, but you fit just fine with me. It also doesn’t matter where we are, although I’m really hoping it’s here, because I really like it here. What’s more, you like it here and the girls like it here.”
Dana glanced at the sky, at the dark storm clouds rolling in. She reached over and took Kellen’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go inside. The storm’s coming in faster than they predicted and I, for one, would like to watch it while curled up on the sofa in front of the fire. With you. But right now, it would be like holding an ice cube. Once you’re warm again, while we still have cell service, we’ll find Grant and tell him about Broussard’s call.”