by Cora Kenborn
With the benefit of darkness shielding my movements, I climbed the fire escape outside Phoebe’s brownstone. Using the front door wasn’t an option. If they were inside, I needed the element of surprise on my side.
Shy Tanna. Innocent Tanna. Young Tanna.
A killer.
Every lift of my foot brought another cry from inside the apartment. Fear strangled me as a scream came from Phoebe’s apartment, hastening my movements. What a fucking idiot I’d been. I’d hidden everything to protect everyone, and Tanna had infiltrated everything.
As my foot touched the landing outside of her bedroom, I tried the window, half expecting it to be open as my heart slammed in my chest. Time wasn’t on my side, so I did the only thing I could think of.
Taking off my jacket, I wrapped it around my fist and slammed it through the window, shards of glass flying everywhere. I broke the remaining pieces that remained and crawled through the tight space, tumbling onto her bedroom floor.
“Phoebe?”
She didn’t answer, and a sickening thud in the adjoining room had me tearing through the hallway. I tripped over something on the floor and bent down to pick it up. The stun gun she swore would always protect her in any situation had failed. My stomach lurched as I slowly made my way into the living room.
My world stopped when I turned the corner and found her on her knees. She fell forward, palms reaching out in front of her as her head slumped, gurgling a soft whimper. My eyes trailed down to her delicate hand pressed into the red wood.
Red. Blood.
The word tumbled from my constricted throat. “No!”
Without any recourse for myself, I rushed forward and dropped to my knees beside her. Her eyes were shut tight, the paleness of her skin tattooed across my memory. Drops of sweat rolled down her forehead and plunged into the puddle of red, mixing into the liquid and disappearing.
Kneeling beside her, the stun gun fell from my fingers and I took her face in my hands. Turning her closed eyes to mine, I gently increased the pressure on her face. “Baby, look at me. Open your eyes.”
She jerked her chin out of my grasp and hissed between clenched teeth. “Be quiet, Julian. Just, quiet…quiet…”
“Phoebe…”
She opened her eyes, the pale blue slicing through me. “I said shut up.”
She struggled for every breath, her elbows shaking from the weight. Her fingers still waded in the puddle of blood—the metallic stench filled me with a clear reality. I’d tied her up in a nice shiny bow for this psychopath’s taking, but I’d be damned if I’d lose her now.
“Where are you hurt? I need to stop the bleeding and get you the fuck out of here.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Shhhh…”
“What the fuck do you mean, shhhh? Phoebe, who the hell knows where that bitch is now? We’ve got to get you to the hospital and then the police and—”
“She means shhhh because ‘that bitch’ is waiting in the other bedroom for you to join the party, Jagger.”
My tunnel vision lifted, and I turned my head to the right. Tanna stood with a sadistic smile painted across her face. In her hand was the biggest knife I’d ever seen, drops of blood pouring off of the tip. Phoebe’s blood.
“Tanna…”
“Tara!”
“Okay, Tara, just go. Leave now and nobody will say shit.” I had to try. She held all the cards, and Phoebe was unmovable.
Her eyes seemed to stare through me as if the dark lifted, and I suddenly came face-to-face with someone I’d never known.
“Angela says no. Angela says you’re a liar.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, shut up, Julian!”
Apparently Tanna was back.
Fuck, how many people live inside this bitch?
“Just let us—”
“And to think I loved you. I’d have done anything for you, Julian.” She pointed the end of the knife downward toward Phoebe. “Even after you killed my brother, I forgave you and I killed for you. And for what? So you could betray me and have your happily ever after ending to your stupid autobiography? I don’t fucking think so.”
I barely had time to react before she barreled on top of me with the force of an NFL linebacker, knocking me to the ground. With a shrill scream she hooked an arm around my throat. Tightening her hold, she slammed the handle of the knife into my temple. If she’d been anyone else I would have flipped her over, grabbed the knife and put it right through her fucking chest for everything she’d done. But amazingly enough, I still didn’t want to kill her, so I elbowed her in the ribs and ducked down, flinging her over my head. She hit the wall and lay still.
Lightheaded from the blow to the head, I crawled back over to Phoebe where she now lay in a larger puddle. Cradling her face, I pulled it out of the dripping mess and screamed at her. “Open your eyes! Phoebe!”
“I’m hurt, not deaf, Julian.” she whispered, her eyes still closed.
“Can you move?” I asked, afraid to move her. “Where’s the blood coming from?”
She nodded and pointed to her abdomen. My blood ran cold.
The baby.
I jerked her shirt up, and a three-inch-long jagged slash gaped open beside her belly button. “Fuck!” I swore, tearing off my t-shirt and pressing it against her stomach “Can you turn and help me hold this? C’mon, princess, work with me.”
With another nod, she slowly rolled against the wall and placed a shaking hand over mine as we held the material against the wound. “You’re late,” she murmured, lolling her head to her shoulder.
“Traffic,” I said, trying to keep her mind occupied. “It won’t happen again.”
“Mmmmm.” She nodded as her lashes fluttered open. With a jolt, her eyes widened and she screamed in terror as another voice slithered behind me.
“Spoiler, Julian—at the end of your book? They all die.”
All I could do was cover Phoebe with my body as the lights went out.
Chapter Forty
Phoebe
My scream faded as Julian slumped forward, the side of his head erupting in a red waterfall.
Tanna stood, panting, Gage’s bat in her hand. “I really didn’t want to do that,” she said, frowning at him with a forlorn expression.
“Then why did you?” I whispered, panic tearing through me. I had to trust she loved him enough that she hadn’t killed him.
“Because you poisoned him. You’re worse than all the others. He fucked them and moved on, but you—you got in his head and ruined him.” She shook her head at his motionless form. “Shame. Real shame.”
“Tanna?”
“Angela! Jesus Christ, are you people stupid?”
I wasn’t strong enough to fight her. After all I’d been through, I couldn’t believe it’d all end like this. But I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of hiding. She’d have to face me to kill me. I’d stare her down until I took my last breath. All I had left was my dignity, and that was one thing she’d never take from me.
“Then fucking do it,” I wheezed as I stared into her cold, dead eyes.
“My pleasure.” She raised the knife and aimed at my stomach again.
This one would kill me and my baby. I braced myself for the pain. Just as the smile parted her lips, the door opened behind her.
“Hey, baby doll, what’s with all the noise? People are pissed.”
Gage.
In a split second, Tanna turned her attention toward the open door.
I could die right here or use the diversion and pray.
Looking frantically beside me, my eyes latched onto my stun gun lying on the floor beside me. I had no idea how it traveled all the way over here, but I wasn’t about to question it. I stretched, muscles ripping as I wrapped my hands around it and pushed myself to my feet. Pain tore through me, and light began to darken as I stumbled toward her turned head.
Gage moved his eyes from Tanna to me. Noticing the shift in his vision, Tanna twisted back ar
ound as I lunged forward, pressed the tip of the device into her ribcage, and held the button. An explosion of light and sound filled the room as she let out a garbled cry and crumpled to the floor.
Cursing, Gage rushed to me and grabbed me under the arms, holding me against his strong chest. “Jesus, what the hell did I walk into?”
I rested my cheek against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. I prayed with everything I had in me that the same one still beat strong inside of Julian.
“My nightmare,” I whispered before passing out.
Chapter Forty-One
Julian
Lying in the hospital bed, thinking back over that night still hurt. I’d never forget seeing Tanna’s twisted obsession in its true form. The vacant look in her eyes would haunt me for a long time to come.
I’d never felt such rage. I would’ve been justified in taking her life. She didn’t think twice about attempting to take the two most precious ones away from me. I’d counted on her friendship and support for so many months. She’d stood by me and dragged me through a dark time in my life, and the whole time she’d been plotting against me, ready to sink the blade hard and deep between my shoulders.
The only thing that stopped her was obsession. She thought she was in love with me and that infatuation overrode all the hate she harbored. She couldn’t bring herself to stab me so she knocked me the fuck out with Harlow’s bat.
Amazingly enough, Phoebe didn’t end up killing Tanna herself. She finally used that damn stunner she always threatened me with deploying. I supposed what she said to me ended up being truer than she’d known.
“Good thing I’m a law-breaking rebel girl who packs heat.”
Good thing, indeed. Both our lives had depended on it.
By the time Hough and the NYPD got there, Tanna had started to regain consciousness so he handcuffed her on the spot. Phoebe had a moment of brilliance in recording the entire attack and made Tanna’s arrest and conviction an open and shut case. Although, instead of prison, she’d be riding out the rest of her days in a psychiatric hospital. I hated her, but the girl was sick and needed help before she hurt someone else.
Good fucking riddance.
Since we couldn’t hide Tanna’s arrest from the media, thoughts of filling her spot in the band not only sounded in poor taste ethically, it scared the shit out of us. We all trusted Tanna with our lives. Never would we have suspected there were so many personalities hiding inside one person. The hole in our family was deep. No amount of intel or background checks from the NYPD, the FBI, or the fucking KGB could make us trust anyone new again.
Ironically, while I’d been brooding my life away, hating myself over Lam and opening the door wide for Tanna, my little brother, Ryker, had learned the fraternal business and could play the fuck out of a guitar. I’d been so consumed with my life that I never knew he even cared about music.
I had a lot to atone for.
By unanimous vote, we hired him on the spot. Shockingly enough, Helena didn’t put up a fight. After the dust settled, she seemed to be shaken up just as much, if not more, than most. It was her job to look out for us, and in her eyes she’d failed.
Then there were the ghosts that flashed in Phoebe’s eyes as she knelt bleeding on the floor. Would she ever be the same? How could anyone fight the same monster twice, in a different skin, and come back a whole person?
I’d demanded to see her in the hospital. She’d been stitched up without surgery, and according to the doctor, would make a full recovery. Tanna’s knife only made it through muscle. But I saw the darkness in her eyes and the dead calm of indifference. She’d been a shell after that.
And Ty. He lost his sister for a second time. Only this time, it wasn’t to a physical disease and death. He lost Tanna to mental illness and unforgivable betrayal. Ever since the police took Phoebe, Tanna, and me to the hospital, no one had seen Ty at all.
Zane tried to call him a few times but just received multiple texts telling him to fuck off. He needed time to come to terms with his shattered trust. Ty was an intensely private person, and we knew the only way to get him back was to leave him alone. Somehow he’d make sense of it.
We’d all been changed by what happened. Not one single person involved was still the same as they were before Tanna infiltrated our lives. The irony hit me hard. Billy Lamee was the kindest, gentlest soul to ever walk this earth, and his death was avenged by the vilest, most hateful sibling who could’ve ever shared his blood.
It was reprehensible. But it was our story to tell. And only one person could tell it—in my autobiography she still wrote. MetroGroup’s tell-all book had suddenly morphed into a best-selling crime drama.
Phoebe lay beside me, and a smile curled my lips in spite of my depressive state. Five days ago, I’d insisted on being near her, even though security was tight. Five days since the moment I realized what it meant to be thankful.
I had to admit that I got choked up during the ultrasound when I heard what sounded like a horse galloping. Confused, I’d looked down at her in time to see the tears rolling down the sides of her face. My eyes widened, and she just nodded. Hearing the baby’s tiny racing heartbeat stopped mine forever. I couldn’t speak after that. Too much emotion stirred inside of me. Our child proved to be a fighter just like its mother.
I traced the outer lines of her collarbone as a deep-rooted sigh escaped her lips. I knew that sigh. I hated that sigh.
“Just say it,” she said, curled beside me. We were only down the hall from each other in our respective hospital rooms, but I’d snuck down the hall and crawled right in bed with her. I’d dragged my IV pole along behind me and dared anyone to tell me to leave. Especially after what I had to tell her.
“I have to leave in four days.”
She lifted her head and balanced her chin on my chest. “I know you didn’t say what I think you said.”
I ran the back of my hand across my forehead. “We have a charity event in Los Angeles. It’s some huge gig that Helena booked a long time ago. Honestly, I’d forgotten about it until she texted me a little while ago.”
She squinted one eye. “And you’re just telling me this why?”
“Because I didn’t want to upset you in your condition.”
“Julian, I’m not on my deathbed. By the time you leave, it’ll have been over a week and a half since the attack. I’ll be fine.”
I draped an arm across her. “If the concert wasn’t a kid’s charity and already sold out, I’d cancel.” I held her hand. “I just don’t like leaving you here alone. I don’t know who…” I stopped and averted my eyes.
“Who what?” she prodded.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t nothing me, Bale. I know when you’re being evasive.”
I tightened my jaw in defiance, still refusing to look at her. “I’m scared I’m going to leave and the fucking bottom is going to fall out from under us again. Every time we turn around something is hiding in the shadows waiting for us.”
She squeezed my hand. “Julian, I should know better than anyone that monsters can hide in plain sight. They can hold your hand as you cross the street and then push you in front of a car when your back’s turned. We can’t hide from the world living in a bubble of what ifs. Evil doesn’t have a face. It just is.”
“Can we just drop it? I don’t want to spend the rest of my time in New York sitting here arguing.” Letting out a groan of frustration, she threw the sheet off, attempting to stand up. “Where the hell are you going?” I demanded.
“You’re being a stubborn ass, and beyond being irritated at you, I’m hungry, and I know there’s a vending machine in the waiting room down the hall.” Quickly raising a hand, she pointed a finger directly at me. “Before you make some smart-ass remark, I’ll remind you about my tendency toward emotional outbursts these days.”
“Pregnant women are nasty,” I joked, grinning at her.
As she turned away, I propped up on one elbow, watching her grab he
r IV pole and bend over to unplug it from the wall. She reached for the doorknob and the words slipped out before I knew I was saying them.
“Marry me.”
Shit! Did I just say that out loud?
Phoebe’s feet froze, her focus held on the door as my stomach did an Olympic-worthy somersault. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Marry me.”
“I think that bat to the head knocked something loose, Julian.”
“Phoebe, I’m not fucking around. Marry me. Let’s just do it. Let’s just drive to Atlantic City and get married.” My stomach flipped, and my brow broke out in a cold sweat as the words tumbled from my mouth, but I meant every word. I’d never been more serious of anything in my life.
As assertive as she attempted to make her voice, it strained. “No.”
“No? Give me one good reason why not?”
“I’ll give you three,” she said as she ticked them off on her fingers. “One, my parents weren’t exactly the best role models for marriage, two, your mother would probably have a complete fucking meltdown if we got married without her there…and three, I’m not marrying you in some cheesy-ass casino chapel that gives us poker chips and a basket of condoms as a wedding gift.”
“My mother will get over it.” I gave a deliberate nod to her rounded abdomen and grinned. “And I think it’s too late for condoms.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Yes, you’ve established that already.”
“I’m not marrying you, Julian. Not today, not next week, and not by Elvis. Besides, what’s the rush? I think the secret’s out about the pregnancy.”
“Why’s it such a requirement to wait?” I prodded.
She smirked. “Don’t answer my question with a question.”
“Don’t question my question.”