Brynna’s eyes widened and she backed away, until the counter was right at her back.
Gabby and Mel booked it out of the room as fast as Mel could book.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.
* * *
CHANCE stared at the crazy carrot-topped woman while he tried to grab control of his temper. He licked his lips—rice milk had a slight peculiar taste, didn’t it?
He was vaguely aware of the other two women leaving the room as he stalked around the kitchen island that had caught most of the raining Cheerios.
The main thought in his head was to catch that woman and spank that skinny little ass he loved so much until it was as red as her hair.
Only big pale brown eyes and a mouth that trembled stopped him. “Chance...I...”
“You are a menace to everyone who knows you.” Chance knocked Cheerios off his shoulders and ran one hand over his sopping wet hair. She lifted one small hand and brushed at soggy oat cereal until a clump of it fell off his chest. “Do you get off on causing problems for the people in your life?”
“I’m not a menace and I don’t cause problems for the people in my life. You aren’t really in my life that way, remember? We agreed—” He didn’t miss the hurt that skittered across her face. “I don’t cause problems for my family anymore!” She put both hands against his chest and pushed him back. “You are not in my life anymore. It was just no-strings sex! You have no right to try to control me!”
She pushed again as she yelled the last.
Chance wrapped his hands around her upper arms gently. She looked up at him—and that’s when he realized. Whatever he’d said had hurt her, hadn’t it? Deeply.
“Bryn...” He lifted her before he thought, placing her right on the kitchen island, smack dab in the center of the dripping milk. “Babe, I didn’t mean...”
“What do you want from me, Chance? You confuse me. I thought we agreed we were both going to be ok with just the no-strings thing. But you’re here, and I see you looking at me and it makes me want...I’m not good at figuring out what people want from me. Especially men. It took me a few months to realize Daniel—Commander McKellen—wants more than just friendship. If Gabby hadn’t pointed it out to me I never would have figured it out.”
“Stay away from McKellen. He’s not the kind of man you need.” McKellen was too hard, too rough for the likes of Brynna. She needed a good man, not a cop. Maybe a teacher or a doctor or someone who didn’t see the darker side of life and drag that back home to her.
She needed a pretty house and a pretty a family, complete with three or four pretty children and a floppy-eared dog trailing after her.
She needed anything but him.
Yet as he pulled her against him, crushing sloppy cereal between them, he knew the truth.
He needed her. More than he’d needed anyone ever before in his life.
More. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone. More than he ever would.
Chance lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers. His Brynna.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.
* * *
SHE didn’t want to watch the video of the Marshall Murders again. But she, Gabby and Mel knew the answers to why the men had tried to kill her in Oklahoma in the first place were on that video.
And wasn’t it better to do it when Elliot and Chance weren’t around? When they wouldn’t be upset by what she had found?
Not to mention she wanted other opinions, especially Gabby’s and Mel’s. Brynna curled up on her double bed, her laptop in front of her. Gabby was on her left, her sister on her right. She would never forget that night. It had shaped all of them. And if she and Mel and their father had been five minutes earlier getting to the Marshalls’ that night, they’d probably be dead, as well. “We weren’t supposed to be there that night, either.”
“No, but the three of us were going. For Sara,” Mel said. Sara had called them, asking for them to come over for a sleep-over after her older brothers had cancelled on her birthday plans. So they’d agreed to go. It had been that simple.
Thank God they hadn’t made it there five minutes earlier.
Brynna had always felt a bit guilty for feeling that way.
“I was just waiting for my mom to get home from work to drive me,” Gabby said.
“We were five minutes away. But Brynna threw a fit at the last minute. A ten or fifteen minute fit. She saved our lives that night. I’ve never forgotten that. How…random our very lives were in that moment.”
“Why did you throw a fit?” Gabby asked.
Brynna thought back, remembered. Remembered the sudden horror and fear that had filled her as they’d turned off of Barrattville Road that night. There had been a gas station five miles from the Marshall homestead. Their father had pulled in there to try to calm Brynna down. They’d been parked when the sirens had come. When they’d learned… “I don’t know. I remember just sitting in the back seat and thinking that we couldn’t go there. That we needed to be at home with Jilly and Syd and our mom. I wanted my mother so badly. By the time dad had me calmed down, Mel was inside the gas station, and sirens came. After that, I just remember Jarrod carrying me inside our house.”
“Dad followed the responders. We knew…when they turned off at the Marshalls’ driveway that it was something bad. Dad handed us off to the first patrol officer he saw. It was Jarrod,” Mel said. “He was twenty-two and grass green. It was his first week on the job. First time he’d ever seen a murder scene.”
“When…when dad realized they were all dead, he yelled at Jarrod to get us out of there fast,” Brynna said. It had been the first time they’d met Jarrod. That night had connected them all somehow. Her and Mel. Gabby. Jarrod.
“That night was when I decided to follow Dad into the TSP—as soon as I could.”
“And she recommended me to Benny after I got my Associate’s and decided not to go on for my Bachelor’s. I already knew more than my professors at that point.” And she’d been so lost. She’d known she wanted computers but hadn’t wanted to make a bad choice. A random one. But if she hadn’t made that choice she probably wouldn’t be sitting there between Gabby and Mel, would she? No.
She wouldn’t have her best friend. That thought mattered, didn’t it?
“That night changed all of our lives, didn’t it?” Gabby looked down at Brynna’s laptop. “We were going to be there. Chance and Elliot were supposed to be there, too. The five of us could have died, as well.”
“Sara and Anne would not have wanted us there. They would have wanted us safe.” Brynna knew that for a fact. Anne Marshall would have wanted her and Gabby and Mel safe. No matter the cost. And she’d want them safe now. Would want Elliot and Chance safe always. Shouldn’t the three of them do their part to make sure that happened? Brynna opened a search box and brought up the videos. “But they would want the answers so none of us get hurt again. None of us.”
Gabby nodded, slowly. “They’d want all of us safe. We’re not safe now. Not like this. Not living with this constant fear, these shadows.”
“Chance isn’t safe. He’s not going to ever stop. And I’m terrified they’ll catch him and kill him.” Her nightmare, wasn’t it? She knew how determined he was. More so than ever now that Oklahoma had happened. Chance wasn’t ever going to stop, was he? No. He’d follow those men until he had them—or until they killed him. She just knew it. “So how do we find the answers first?”
“By using our heads. Our skills. Even our hearts,” Mel said. “Combine what we know has happened now, with what happened then. We knew the vic—victims really well. We may have been children when we did, but we were never stupid. So load the damned video, Bryn, and let’s do this. Together.”
“I have two videos. The altered one and what I think is the original.” She had everything she’d worked on in St. Louis thanks to Carrie. It was just a matter of finding the words to show everyone else what she had found.
“Then we watch them both.” Gabby reached over and brushed the mouse. Click
ed.
The video started to play.
* * *
BRYNNA paused the video.
Gabby hit the button again after they’d blown their noses and wiped their eyes. “Let’s do this.”
Brynna watched as the people they had all loved were killed. Sara first. Then Slade and his mother at around the same time. They killed Chance’s father last. After he’d watched the others.
Brynna knew it was just to hurt the man who looked like Chance and Elliot. Just to hurt him. How could someone do that?
Someone looked right into the webcam. Brynna fought the urge to back away from the laptop.
It was him.
The fifth man.
He said something into the camera. Brynna had missed that, hadn’t she?
“Rewind that last part, Bryn,” a weepy Mel said. “We need to know what he said.”
Gabby was the one who figured out what the man said—Fuck it all, Gabby. The fifth man had called Gabby by name.
The man knew who Gabby was from the very beginning.
Brynna stared at the screen, as Mel lurched into the bathroom and vomited. Gabby wasn’t saying a word. “I knew the fifth man said something. But I couldn’t figure out what. I think I was more focused on who could erase a man from the file completely. I didn’t realize…”
She should have realized. Should have told the others. Was it significant that he’d known who Gabby was? What did that mean?
“It wasn’t completely,” Mel said from the bathroom. “You could sometimes see the shadows.”
“That’s because the tech ten years ago wasn’t as good as it is today. If we hadn’t already known, we wouldn’t be predisposed to look. I never could remember how many men because they weren’t always visible at once. I think I blocked out that man at the end.” Gabby straightened on the bed. Brynna finally looked at her friend. Gabby was pale and looked sick. She worried the other woman was going to be next to lose her lunch.
Mel sat down at the desk chair and looked at Brynna and Gabby. “You were traumatized. Hell, so were we—and we didn’t see anything. Except for Slade being loaded into the ambulance. Brynna practically went catatonic, Gab. For the whole next week. It was her first exposure to death at all. Except for a hamster or cat. Mom and Dad kept her sheltered from anything like that.”
“Mine, too.” Gabby wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. “So. The fifth man knew me by sight ten years ago. What do we do now?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.
* * *
“SO there was a fifth man?” Chance had watched the video of his family’s murder more times than he could count. He had never seen a fifth man.
He thought.
Brynna glared at him. She lifted her nose in the air. Chance fought a smile. How many times had she looked at him just like that in the cellar? His body tightened in remembrance—the last time she had, he’d stripped her naked and had her gasping for breath beneath him. “I wasn’t wrong when I said so before. There was a fifth man and a very sophisticated bit of editing. You can see him occasionally, even in the altered video. If you know where to look.”
He’d insulted her skills, hadn’t he? Brynna, who prided herself on being one of the best. Damn, he wanted to kiss her again. Right there on those soft pink lips. He knew how she tasted; he wanted to taste her again. And again. “I’m not doubting you. I’m verifying.”
“Unh huh. Anyway, how does this help us?”
Us? Brynna wasn’t getting anywhere near the bastards again. Not if he had to lock her in her damned room. “You not at all. I think your participation is over. I think you, Gabby, and the rest of your family need to get out of town for a while. I have a cousin with a large spread eighty miles from here—complete with armed cowhands, if needed. He’s already agreed you could stay there. Let Elliot and I finish this.”
Brynna stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “Not happening. I’m going back to work Monday when Gabby does. I want my life back. I have goals. I’m not going to hide.”
“Screw your goals. I want you safe. As far from these bastards as I can get you.” As safe as he could make her—because she was the one woman who meant the world to him.
He’d agreed to no-strings. He’d agreed, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep her safe. Chance almost told her that, but he didn’t.
Cheerios made an impression.
“I make my own choices, Chance. Not you.” Stubborn brown eyes looked at him.
Chance looked at her, at the low cut pink tee shirt that clashed with the carrot hair she’d braided in two childish braids. A green sports bra, similar to the one she’d worn under her gown that morning, was just visible where the shirt had slipped off of one lightly freckled shoulder.
He had kissed every one of those freckles, hadn’t he?
“Don’t start, you two. We’re not having another food fight in here tonight. It took Gabby twenty minutes to get all the wet Cheerios up this afternoon,” Mel snarked at the two of them.
For the first time in a while Chance felt actual embarrassment when the people in the kitchen looked at them.
Gabby giggled.
“Ok, apparently I’ve missed something,” Elliot said.
“Never mind.” Brynna stood. Chance watched her walk toward her older sister, her irritation clear in the twitch of her hips as she stalked away. He loved watching her walk when she was angry. Brynna might not speak expressively, but she threw her whole body into how she felt at times. “How much longer until the spaghetti?”
“A few more minutes. You going to make purple sauce?” Mel asked. She touched Brynna’s shoulder. Chance didn’t miss the connection between the two.
“I’ll warm some up in the microwave for me.”
Chance watched Brynna grab a stack of glass plates out of an upper cabinet. He didn’t like how she favored her injured side when she stretched. The girl-woman was hurting. She looked at him. “I suppose you’re staying, too?”
Chance nodded. He hadn’t planned on it, originally. But they needed to discuss what had been on that video. And after what had happened between them that afternoon, he…needed to see her. He couldn’t explain it; he just needed to. And he needed to find a time to talk to her about the stupid idea she had of going back to that damned TSP. “I want you to show me everything you found after we eat.” It was as good as an excuse as any, wasn’t it?
And he wanted to know what she had found.
“Of course.” There was something in her eyes, something that told him whatever he’d said had hurt her. Again. Damn it, did he do anything but hurt her?
“Give me those.” He took the plates from her. He needed something in his hands before he pulled her closer and just held her. Damn her, she made him want things, didn’t she? “Sit your ass down.”
“I’m not helpless. And you don’t have to curse all the time.” Did she stick her little nose in the air at him? Again? He clenched his fists on the plates before he did something stupid—like lifted her off her feet and plopping her right back on that kitchen island and kissed her senseless.
“You’re stubborn, hard-headed, and contrary.” Beautiful, sexy, everything a man could want…
Kevin coughed. Chance looked over at the older man.
“You forgot obstinate and determined,” Brynna said, haughtily.
The door opened and Brynna’s younger sisters walked in. Mel tossed lettuce at one of them. “I think you know what to do. Syd, drinks.”
“Crud, Mel, at least let us take off our jackets,” Jillian said.
Chance welcomed the distraction. He needed to get away from Brynna, before he kissed her, right there in front of her entire family. Before he told her just exactly how he felt about her rushing back to work. She needed to stay home and rest. Stay home where he knew she was safe. Selfish of him, but that was how he felt.
But he also knew he didn’t have a right to tell her what to do with her life.
Like she’d pointed out with a bowl full of Cheerios th
at afternoon—he’d agreed. No-strings sex didn’t mean those kind of ties. He had to accept that, didn’t he?
He set the damned table.
It was his first real dinner with the Becks. Elliot sat at his right, Gabby on his brother’s side. He sat close enough to smell the fresh clean scent of Brynna’s shampoo. Close enough to brush against her shoulder. Close enough to trick himself into thinking that this was where he belonged.
It shocked the hell out of him when the family said grace before they ate. It shouldn’t have. His own family had once had the same tradition.
The simple act, holding hands with the people next to him overwhelmed him. Made him remember.
Made it hard to release the small pale hand in his. Brynna pulled away first.
He felt the withdrawal clear down to the bottom of his soul.
The Becks were damned lucky to have each other, and he could tell they all knew it.
And they were more than willing to let him and Elliot in. All they had to do was be brave enough to accept it.
He’d never felt more like a coward in his life.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR.
* * *
THE TSP loomed right in front of them as Brynna walked in to the building with her father beside her the next morning. Chance had pulled her aside after dinner and told her his opinion of her going back to work. The argument had ended with them in a draw. And ended with her staying up most of the night thinking. She couldn’t let him keep messing with her thoughts this way. She couldn’t
Brynna stared at the familiar gray brick building with both longing—and apprehension. People were going to want to talk to her, greet her, and ask probing questions they had no real business asking, weren’t they?
She tightened her hand around her bag. She had extra memory cards and zip drives. She was going to copy everything she could off the TSP servers.
Shelter from the Storm (Finley Creek Book 2) Page 11