by Lacey Silks
Tristan locked the door and set me down, slowly removing my clothes, starting with my top. The sound of the zipper unfastening my jacket sent goose bumps to my arms. Tristan’s breathing and my pounding heart all sounded so alarmingly loud. What was happening to me? He hadn’t even really touched me, and I was already running out of breath. I couldn’t wait to get in bed with... my husband.
“If you told me this morning I’d be spending my wedding night with you, I’d look for a camera to make sure I wasn’t being punked.”
“Ah, come on. It worked out so well.”
Off came one of his boots, then the other.
“What would you have done if I’d said no?”
I flipped my leg up so he could pull off my white Uggs.
“I don’t usually ask questions I don’t know the answer to,” he smirked, and pulled off his sweater. And there it was, that chest that made me want to rock his body from dusk until dawn. And the scar that now seemed so insignificant; in my eyes from now on, it would only pass as a beauty mark.
“Cocky a bit?”
“Always, baby. Now get those tight pants off your ass so I can make love to my wife.” He yanked my shirt from inside my pants. And by then the rest of our attire was flying all over the hallway, the living area, and we finally ended up in the bedroom bare naked. This suite was bigger than my old apartment. And why in the world was I thinking about the layout of our hotel room?
As I lay back on the bed, a sparkle of my platinum wedding band reflected the lamp light onto the ceiling. “I can’t believe I’m married.”
“And I can’t believe how lucky I am.” Tristan knelt and then slowly lowered his body beside mine. “I promise to love you and cherish you forever, Mrs. Cross.”
“Ditto, Mr. Cross.”
“Now make love to me, please.”
He didn’t have to beg nor ask me, as there was nothing more that I wanted than to consummate our marriage.
CHAPTER 24
Never in my life did I think the first week after I got married would be the most stressful week of my life. Security had been increased at Cross Enterprises and at the Cross households. Three armed guards followed my every move. They watched me twenty-four hours a day. Among them was a female who never left my side, including accompanying me to the bathroom. It seemed none of them ever slept, as they were there with me from the moment I woke up and still there when I went to bed at night. My mother stayed with my in-laws, where the guards watched her as well.
And all this commotion was because of one man: David Wright.
Our conversation with Laura when we’d returned from Austria still played in my mind. At first I couldn’t believe what she was saying, but it all began making sense. He’d planned this all along. David Wright was not only an obsessed son of a bitch, but also a meticulous mastermind of manipulating people and events to his benefit.
“I have some info on that guy who bought Marissa,” Laura said to me at lunch the first day at work. I’d spent the entire morning recapping Gabe and Sam’s wedding, Christmas, Tristan’s proposal, and my own change in marital status, so we hadn’t had a chance to talk business. Then Laura concentrated on planning my bachelorette party. So it took a few hours before our normal day began. And it just so happened that Tristan was in the lunch room at the time, so the shock of our conversation hit him as hard as it did me.
“Really? I knew we’d get the bastard.” I smiled. I shouldn’t have.
“It looks like you were right to feel your connection with Marissa. This guy is from the same town you were born in.”
Tristan’s head jerked up.
The hairs on my neck stood tall.
“And?”
“And he was a cop once. That’s who bailed her out all the time.”
This had to be a coincidence, right?
Wrong! The devil on my shoulder screamed, but this time its comment was not a scowl but more of a warning.
I shut my eyes and felt Tristan’s arms around me.
“Allie, this guy’s in California now. We’d have to fly out to get him.”
Yup, definitely not a coincidence. Had he been searching for me and instead found Marissa, my look-alike? And what he’d done to her and her unborn child… Oh, my gosh, I couldn’t think about it. It was that day all over again.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
Tristan squeezed his arm tighter around me, and I felt my trembles fade into his body.
“Do you have a name?” he asked.
I didn’t want to hear it. I already knew the name she was going to say.
“Yes, David Wright. He had some pretty strong connections, even in Washington.”
I turned to Tristan, saying, “Marissa was in our house. He knows where we live.”
“When did this happen?”
“When you were in Washington. I forgot to tell you. It was all so quick, and then she was found dead. It didn’t seem to matter at the time.”
“Allie, calm down. The bastard pushed this too far. He chose his fate, which will end this week.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Can someone please explain what’s going on?” Laura crossed her arms over her chest.
Once I’d run through my childhood, what happened to my mother and the events of the past few months, Laura officially became my fourth body guard.
And now, four days later, and excruciatingly long ninety-six hours later, we sat in Tristan’s office, waiting for that call. The team Tristan hired was supposed to capture Wright and bring him to justice. Tristan said he had enough evidence on him, including DNA, to put him away for Marissa’s murder. And I was sure the evidence I’d collected over the years with respect to my father’s hunting accident would add another lifetime to his sentence. My mother even agreed to press charges, but I’d assured her she didn’t have to go through the pain of testifying and reliving that day.
I bit my fingernails. The tips of my fingers began to ache. My knees shook under the table, and when the phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my seat.
Tristan turned on the speaker-phone and answered the call.
“Tristan Cross.”
“Sir, it’s done.”
I held my breath.
“Details. Give me the details. Do you have him?”
“No, sir. Well, sort of. He refused to come with us. There was an accident, and the house was set on fire. He perished in the house.”
I hoped he roasted in there like a pig and was now suffering in the pits of hell.
“I want a confirmation the body was found.”
“Sir, it was. He was burnt to a crisp.”
“Then get me his dental records. Call me once it’s confirmed it was David Wright.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tristan hang up and wrapped me into his arms.
“He’s dead?” I asked.
“Apparently so. You’ll never have to see him or fear him again.”
“Then it went better than expected,” I said, thinking how blessed I felt that I’d never have to see his face again.
“Yes, it did.”
Or had Tristan planned for Wright not to come out alive all along? I couldn’t tell, but it wouldn’t have surprised me. Wright was dead, and that was all that mattered.
“Let’s keep the security until they confirm.” He kissed the top of my head.
“Yes, of course.”
Two days later Tristan received the confirmation we were waiting for: David Wright’s matching dental records and a death certificate.
The bastard who’d haunted my family was cremated and now filled a small urn. He was nothing but ash.
It would be a while before I came to terms with this truth; after all, I hadn’t seen his body, and it would be difficult to believe I could actually move on with my life.
It would be another four months to reclaim my life and feel at peace.
I shouldn’t have.
CHAPTER 25
The day couldn’t h
ave been more perfect if I’d sent a special order to God himself. The sun was up, and the pure blue sky was reflected in the ocean, blurring the boundary between heaven and earth into one. Tristan and Julian had gone out to fish. Their weekend ritual had been in effect the day Kendra put her foot down and insisted that Julian take more time away from work. I had to say I didn’t blame her, and I loved having Tristan at home on the weekends, especially with the babies on the way. Two months from now, our twins would join the family—a family who had no clue they would get a double surprise. Today we’d be putting the final touches on the twins’ bedrooms. The only remaining question was the sex of the second fraternal baby, which did not want to show us its secret.
Looking out toward the shore, I saw the two brothers standing on the dock with their rods cast. This morning I’d opened the kitchen window wide, opting for a natural breeze to cool the house instead of the air conditioning. In truth I was hoping to lure Tristan back home with the appetizing smell of homemade waffles.
It was only eight in the morning, and the heat was already collected into sweat on my back. Summer had decided to arrive a month earlier than usual. I made a mental note that if I planned any more kids in the future, I’d prefer a spring baby. This heat wave was not doing my swelling feet any favors. But who was I kidding? With Tristan around, any kind of baby planning was out of the question. I was sure no matter how hard we tried to stay safe, it wouldn’t take long for our family to expand once again. I had a feeling the vasectomy fairy would soon visit Tristan to have a little chat.
Resting the bowl on the counter and against my belly, I swirled the batter. I’d finally gotten the courage to cook. After a few lessons from Olivier, I was ready to be the mother of all mothers and the wife of all wives.
Well, at least I could try and pretend to be one.
Given the twins were coming home within two months, I had better learn some skills other than how to dial for takeout. My mother had said her waffle recipe was simple and in our blood. So after fourteen years of eating Eggos instead of delicious waffles, I braved the impossible.
The dough smelled better than I expected. In fact, it reminded me of when I was little and the good times before Daddy died. Back when my parents danced around the kitchen laughing and spilling flour all over. I still remembered the dusty cloud of white powder hovering in the air, my dad’s black jeans slowly fading into gray as the flour settled.
I smiled and poured the batter onto the checkered skillet, closed the lid, and twisted the handle.
Part of me wished Daddy was here with us, the other part came to terms that I had to go on for my new family without him. But I trusted he was looking out for me. He always had been. And today, more than any other day I felt his presence. Was he proud? Was he happy we finally moved on with our lives?
A low knock on the front door echoed. Weird chills ran up my arms, but I blamed it on the open kitchen window.
I shouldn’t have.
I should have listened to my instinct, the way I’d been taught.
I set the bowl aside and wiped my hands on the apron, wondering whether Emma had run over to visit with a new list of names all the way from her parents’ house once again. Instead of texting, she’d made the excuse before just to spend time with me. I loved that girl.
Wobbling like a duck toward the front door, I held onto my belly.
As soon as I opened the door and looked down a loaded barrel, I froze, and then took three steps back, pushed that way when the pistol rested against my chest.
“Hello, Allie. It’s been some time.”
My mind spun. In a split second I panicked that I’d just seen a ghost. And the moment I realized he was alive, I wondered why the security cameras hadn’t caught him and remembered the security system was being updated. Still, the gates were locked and everyone had a secret pass code to get though; but more importantly, why was he here, and why Tristan wasn’t aware of it? My mouth opened in disbelief, and the entire world and the beautiful life I’d had all collapsed. Everything came crushing down as if Atlas himself simply dropped the world off his back.
The one person who had hunted me most of my life, whom I’d despised and wanted to kill, and whom I thought was dead, stood less than two feet away. I’d run from him for years. I’d hid my mother from the monster who destroyed our sense of security for over a decade. He wasn’t supposed to be here. David Wright should have been in an urn, nothing more than dust. We’d been told, and had it confirmed, that he was cremated.
My instinct urged me to run, to hide and tuck myself away under a dark staircase – except we didn’t have a hiding spot like that in this home. Would it make a difference? As silly as that sounded, I believed it would because the little nook in our old home was the only safe place I remembered. Memories of that dreadful day returned: my mother’s cries and pleas for the life of her unborn child, the blood, the hospital, the funeral, the constant running. I forced my brain to remind me where I was, that I was no longer a child. But everything inside me shut down. My hands shook, my pulse raced, and sweat dripped down my back. All my adrenaline must have drained from my veins. And sensing my fear, my babies stopped moving in my belly, most likely trying to stay as quiet and invisible as I had that day under the staircase.
“What are you doing here?” I heard my voice shake. I didn’t mean for it to shake. I wanted to be strong, yet I backed away until I hit a wall.
But that gun seemed to control everything at the moment, not me.
“I came to claim what’s mine.” He took a step closer. His stinky cigarette breath burned my lungs. The gun in his right hand now jutting against my forehead confirmed his intention.
“I thought you were dead?” I felt my eyes narrow trying to gather the pieces of a puzzle together, but my fear overwhelmed me.
“It’s not as difficult to disappear as you think. A little bit of money, courtesy of new job, and you can find a double for anyone. Sometimes a few surgeries help. The stupid starving actor was so keen to mimic my life the way I’d taught him, and followed my instructions to stay in California. It got your little PI husband off my back.”
Oh, my God! We killed an innocent man because of him.
“You had a double too—Marissa, don’t you remember? She was so good, but she wasn’t you. And when she told me where you lived, well, that just made the years I’d spent looking for you worth it. At first I thought she was you, but then she proved me wrong. She showed me where you worked.”
A drop of courage spread through me as his words reminded me of who I was. “Get the fuck away from me,” I barked.
But that made him only press the gun harder. I was sure I’d have a red oval on my forehead, and I hoped it wouldn’t be a splattered one caused by Wright firing the weapon.
“Looks like you set yourself up quite nicely.” He looked around the house, his hand steadier than a surgeon’s.
“Tristan will be back in a minute,” I whispered. The shock of seeking Wright began to wear off, and I felt my instinct scramble to piece together a plan.
“He just left not long ago.”
“There’s a security camera here, and the police will be here any moment,” I lied. I knew with the babies on the way, Tristan was installing an updated system. And during the two days it would take for it to be active, Wright had found me.
He didn’t seem to care for my empty threat; instead, he motioned me toward the kitchen.
“You look just like your mother when she was younger, and with a belly too. I have some fond memories of that day.” His grunt released a stench of dirty teeth and an empty stomach.
My hands flew to my belly, their span and my spread-out fingers not even close to being big enough or thick enough to protect my children from a possible bullet.
Shit, shit, shit! I cursed in my mind.
This wasn’t happening! Dave Wright would not hurt me the way he had my mother. I wouldn’t let him rape me and kill my children.
Think, Allie. Think! I urged my
mind.
“You’re a sick motherfucker! I swear if you take another step closer, I will kill you and bury you myself,” I threatened.
Wright drew the gun slowly down my nose, then the side of my neck. I felt my jugular pulse against the metal tip. He lowered it to my chest and then my belly. The low click of the gun held me in my spot and I slid my hands forward, wrapping them tighter around my stomach, fearing for my babies’ lives. I couldn’t let him do this again.
“Take three steps to your left and turn around,” he ordered.
“Fuck you!”
He whacked me across my face with his free hand. The sting of the slap only confirmed the bastard he was.
The sweet smell of waffles began to rise as my backside hit the doorway’s edge.
“You think I’m kidding?” He dug the gun deeper into my belly.
Oh, my God! He’s going to shoot me, then rape me! I couldn’t let this happen. I swore never to be afraid again. I promised not to give in, and to fight. And now I had to fight not only for me but also for my husband and unborn children. In seconds the instinct I’d nurtured my entire life returned. That adrenaline that had been drained before now flooded my veins at the speed of a rushing tsunami. I would settle this today, and David Wright would not walk out of this house alive.
“Fine, fine.” I put up my hands, palms facing forward, and moved to where he wanted me, against the counter.
“What are you going to do after you’re done?” I stalled.
“Marry you, Peg, the way we were meant to be. I won’t let you leave this time.”
Did he just call me by my mother’s name? Something had shifted in the air. Wright used a softer tone, one I’d remembered him use with my mother before he killed my father.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Peg and when your daughter said she knew where you lived, well, that was just a bonus.”