VINCENT (Dragon Security Book 2)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “The child. I saw her purposely push her one afternoon while they were walking up the driveway. And another time I saw her purposely trip Olivia when Quinn and the child were walking her back to her house one evening. She pretended it was an accident, but I saw it.”

  I glanced back at the house. “Did Quinn ever notice any of this?”

  “I don’t think so. She was always distracted by something or other when Beth struck out. I’m not sure even the child realized it was intentional. But I could see it.”

  “Thank you, Miss Holland.”

  “You take care of those young ladies,” she said. “They’re good people.”

  “I will.”

  I stepped into the house and raced up the stairs, wondering what else Beth might have done to Olivia. What was her ultimate plan? Was she trying to get rid of Olivia so that she could have Quinn all to herself? If that was it, then having me come into the house must have been a huge wrench to her plans. What would she have done if this went on much longer?

  “Quinn?”

  She wasn’t in the master bedroom, and I knew from the view over at Beth’s that she wasn’t in Olivia’s room. I checked the exercise room, but I knew where she was. And, sure enough, she was there, sitting on the edge of the couch where we’d made love not twelve hours ago.

  I settled down beside her and slipped my hand slowly up the length of her spine.

  “It’s definitely Beth.”

  She nodded, not really acknowledging me. It was like she was still trying to convince herself that all this was real.

  “She’s obsessed with you, Quinn.”

  She nodded again.

  “I should have seen it. I should have known what was going on right under my nose.”

  “You couldn’t have known.”

  “There were things…little things.” She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands for a second before turning to look at me. “I would come home and find things moved in my bedroom. I thought that maybe I just didn’t remember where I’d left them, but something inside of me knew that Beth had moved them. And little things Olivia said. How Beth would ask questions about me, how she would yell at Olivia for touching simple things, like the mug I drank out of that morning. I brushed it off because I needed Beth’s help. Setting up the studio…” She buried her face again. “I was stupid. I put my child in danger.”

  “You didn’t know.”

  “But I should have.”

  I put my arm around her and pulled her tight against my side. “And I should have known. I should have noticed that her bedroom windows look right down into your house. I should have known that she was watching us. I should have known that whoever broke into the house knew exactly where to go to hurt you the most. I should have seen the clues.”

  She touched my face, drawing me down to her.

  “I don’t want to do this,” she whispered. “I just want to pretend none of this is happening.”

  I kissed her. Her lips were warm, even though she shivered as she moved closer to me. I wrapped my arms around her and held her in a cocoon against my chest, wishing I could just keep her there. The idea that someone might hurt her tore me up more than I wanted to admit.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said softly against her mouth. “I won’t let anything happen to you or Olivia.”

  “I know.” She touched the side of my face gently. “But who’s going to protect you?”

  I groaned. All this stuff going on and she was worried about me. That was absolutely incredible.

  I held her as tight as I could, not sure what else I could do for her at this point. There were no words for what was happening, no promises that could fix what Beth had torn apart. All I could do was hold her and pretend that I could wrap us up in a tiny bubble that was all ours, that would never let anything bad inside of it.

  It was all I had for the moment.

  Chapter 17

  Quinn

  I curled up against the pillows on my bed, lying there for the first time since Beth broke in and sliced a cat’s throat here. It made me shiver, the idea of that cat dying here on my bed. I wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for the fact that Megan insisted it was the best way to catch Beth.

  This was the third night. The third time I crawled into this bed that made my skin crawl, the third time I pulled the replacement comforter up against my chin, waiting for something that had yet to happen.

  There was a man I had yet to meet staring into my bathroom from Beth’s bedroom window. Another was in the backyard, hidden by shadows, waiting for Beth to attempt to disarm the security system. And yet another parked in front of my house. They were all waiting, just as I was waiting. The only thing that made this bearable was the knowledge that Vincent was sitting a few feet away, hidden behind a Chinese screen, a gun in his lap.

  It was Megan’s idea. Beth left because she suspected they were onto her. But she was so obsessed with me that Megan was convinced she would come back eventually. They were hoping sooner rather than later. And when she did, they’d be waiting.

  I wasn’t as confident. I was pretty sure Beth had disappeared and would never be heard from again. They’d checked her bank accounts. Every one of them had been completely drained. Her car was found abandoned at the airport. And she called to quit her job at the nursing home where she worked the night shift as a nurse’s aide.

  Beth wasn’t coming back. Yet, I was lying in this repulsive bed and my daughter was across town, spending the third night with Cole and Amber. Not that I minded them taking her. She was always so full of stories when I saw her. But I’d rather she was here with me, safe in her own room.

  Not that her room was all that safe, it turned out. I couldn’t walk in there now without wondering how many times Beth stood at her own window and watched my daughter play. Or undress.

  “Would you teach me how to shoot a gun?”

  Vincent didn’t answer right away.

  “I hate feeling like I have to depend on other people to protect me.”

  “A gun isn’t always the answer.”

  “Then what? Should I take a martial arts class or something?”

  “I could teach you a few karate moves.”

  I smiled, thinking of him touching me to maneuver my body into all the right positions. “I could go for that.”

  He chuckled softly. “I’m sure you could.”

  “Maybe if I’d known how to protect myself years ago, I wouldn’t be in this position.”

  He was quiet again, sobered by the thought. But then he asked, “Does she know?”

  “Who know what?”

  “Does Olivia know who her biological father is?”

  “That’s not something I’m too eager to explain to a ten-year-old child.”

  “Will you ever tell her?”

  I dragged my fingers through my hair, getting them caught a few times in the tangled curls. “I don’t know. She has a right to know. But she also has a right to be as innocent and protected as I can manage.”

  “You’ve done a good job with her, Quinn. She’s the happiest, most secure young girl I’ve ever known.”

  “You know a lot of ten year olds?”

  “Not really. But I see them at the mall and in restaurants. I’m not an expert, but she’s definitely in a good place.”

  “Yeah. I hope so.”

  “And she’s resilient. She’ll get through this, no matter how things end.”

  “Would you tell her?”

  I wished I could see his face. He hesitated again, and I wanted to see his face so I could tell what he was thinking. I wanted to know if he was taking this seriously or not.

  “No,” he finally said. “I’d keep it from her as long as possible. And then I’d be careful about the way I told her.”

  “I thought you’d say yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. You just strike me as the kind of guy who doesn’t like lies and secrets.”

  “I don’t.”

&
nbsp; “But this—?”

  “Some secrets should be kept, Quinn. For the benefit of the people involved.”

  “Like Sydney’s parents? Have you ever considered talking to them? Telling them that she was drunk and hell bent on killing you both that night?”

  He didn’t answer, but I hadn’t expected him to.

  I rolled over, tugging the comforter tighter around my shoulders. It was still warm even though it was getting to be late fall. But I felt chilled anyway. And my stomach…I found myself struggling to keep my dinner where it belonged. I’d never had nerves quite like this before, but I’d never put on a show quite like this, either.

  “When this is over—”

  “If it’s ever over,” I mumbled.

  “If this ends any time soon, I’d like to—”

  A soft beep filled the room. I was so strung out that I sat up before I realized it was Vincent’s phone.

  “What is it?”

  “Lay down, Quinn. She’s here.”

  I lay back, my heart pounding. The plan was that they would let Beth make her way up to the bedroom, thinking she’s sneaking up on me while I’m asleep. Then Vincent and the two guys outside would take her down. I thought it sounded like a good plan when we were in my kitchen, drinking flavored coffee. But now? I was on the edge of falling apart.

  We had no idea what this woman was coming up here with. We had no idea what her intentions were. For all we knew, she wasn’t coming upstairs. She was going to set some sort of bomb up downstairs. Megan insisted that Beth wanted me alive and well, but we didn’t know that, did we? What if she’d changed her mind?

  The house was so quiet that I imagined I could hear the light breeze outside brush against the shingles on the roof. Or maybe it was just the air rushing in and out of my lungs.

  And then…there was the slightest creak on the stairs.

  I heard Vincent adjust his position behind the screen; I heard the distinctive sound of him pulling the slide on his gun. It was a quiet motion, but it seemed to be a hundred times amplified in the silence.

  Another creak.

  Was she crawling up the damn stairs?

  I wanted to cry I was so tense. There was pain in my shoulders. I needed this to be over with. Now.

  Another creak, and then I heard the distinctive creak of door hinges. Where was she? That didn’t sound close enough to be my bedroom door. The creak again. And then the sound of something tipping over.

  Olivia’s dollhouse.

  I sat up out of instinct. She was in my daughter’s bedroom.

  “Quinn!”

  No. I was done. I wanted this to end. And I wasn’t about to allow this woman to take anything else from my child.

  I was out of the bed and halfway across the room before I realized I’d moved. There was a baseball bat beside the door that I used to believe was good enough for protection. What a fool I was! But it was solid, and it would do some damage before Vincent could get aim with his gun.

  I flipped on the hall light, illuminating the open door to Olivia’s room. It’d been closed when I went to bed. I charged across the landing, shoving it open the rest of the way with the head of the bat. It was dark, but I could see the outline of Olivia’s prized dollhouse on its side on the floor. I flipped on the light here, too, but there was no one there. I opened the closet door and used the bat to move clothes out of the way. Nothing.

  “I know you’re here, Beth!”

  “I’m here,” she called out from across the hall.

  I was halfway across the landing when Vincent grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

  “She’s setting you up. She knows I’m here.”

  “I don’t care. I’m done with this.”

  “You don’t know what she’s got, Quinn. You don’t know that she doesn’t plan to fire a weapon on you the moment you walk through that door.”

  “You’re not listening to me,” I said, shoving him back with a hand against his chest. “I don’t care anymore. I just want this to end.”

  I spun around, intent on marching into my home office. But the moment I did, the door exploded into a million tiny pieces of wood. Vincent pulled me back, out of the way of the tiny flying projectiles, and yanked me into the master bedroom. I heard him engage the lock even as he continued to push me back, shoving me into the walk-in closet.

  “Stay here!”

  “Vincent—”

  But he wasn’t listening.

  I closed my eyes, trying to listen to what was happening in my house. But all I could see was the fear and anger in Vincent’s eyes just before he disappeared behind the closet door.

  I couldn’t just stand here and wait for that crazy woman to kill him!

  I slipped out of the closet and made my way cautiously to the bedroom door. It was dark, and I tripped over a pair of shoes I senselessly left out. I pressed my ear to the door and listen harder than I’d ever done anything in all my life. I couldn’t hear anything. There were no voices, no explosions, no gunshots. Just silence.

  What was happening?

  There was light. I could see light shining through the cracks of the door, so I knew Vincent hadn’t killed the light in the hallway. But I couldn’t see anything. Then there were voices, but I couldn’t tell if they were male, female, Vincent, or one of the other men watching the house. I didn’t know and not knowing was driving me crazy.

  I opened the door just a crack. There were wood splinters all over the carpet in the hall, the remains of the door to my office barely hanging on the hinges. She’d used something big, a shotgun maybe. It was absolutely shattered.

  But there was no one there now. Had they found her? Did she get away?

  I slipped out of the bedroom and silently moved across the hall. The light was still on in Olivia’s room, so I knew she hadn’t gone in there.

  I paused. I heard noises in the entryway at the foot of the stairs. I thought for a second the door had opened, but decided it was just someone moving a piece of furniture. Why would someone move furniture? What was happening?

  I crossed to the spare room where I kept my exercise equipment. The door was closed, as it had been since I was in there this morning. She had no reason to go in there except to hide. Vincent took my bat, but there were a couple of wood splinters that were big and thick. Perfect stakes. I picked one up, wrapped the end of it in the sleeve of my nightgown, and pushed the door open. I flipped on the light, but there was nothing. No one.

  She wasn’t up here. Vincent probably knew that, and that was why all the noise was downstairs.

  I turned, thinking I should go back to the closet before Vincent figured out I’d ignored his demand. As I did, she stepped out of the bathroom, a twelve-gauge shotgun dangling from one hand.

  “Hello, Milly,” she said in an almost girlish voice.

  My heart sank.

  “What have you done, Beth?”

  “Nothing. Yet.” She raised the gun and focused it on the center of my chest. “But I won’t do it anymore. I won’t share you with all these men anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Her eyebrows rose as though we were having a genuine conversation, not some insane dialogue.

  “I mean the men in the videos. All those men you were with, all those men you touched, all those men whose cum you allowed to drip all over you. I won’t do it anymore. I’ve been watching those videos for six years. And then you were just here, this vision from the depths of my loneliness and you were mine. I won’t share you anymore.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “But I’ve seen you. I saw you kissing that man, saw him touching you. I saw the two of you in your bathtub, saw him watching you walk through the house. You’re not his.”

  “No. I’m not.”

  “You’re mine.”

  “You’re my friend, Beth. You’ve been my friend.”

  “I saw you,” she said, her chin wobbling like she was about to cry. “I saw you looking at this house, saw you talking to the real est
ate agent. I knew your face because of the movies.”

  “The movies? I don’t show my face on the movies.”

  “You did. There are three movies, Women in Prison, Schoolgirl Charms, and Girl Friday. Three movies in which you show your face, where they focus on your expression when the man—”

  “I remember.”

  She nodded. “I got Schoolgirl Charms for free when I ordered gag gift for a girl at work. I was so embarrassed when I saw it in the package, but there was something about your face, something that spoke to me. It took me two weeks to get up the courage to watch it, but then I did, and you were so beautiful! So graceful. I’d never watched a movie like that before, but there was something about you, so I bought the other two. And when I realized that was all, those were the only ones you were in, I was so disappointed. But then I saw something familiar when I was searching for other movies, when this ad for a fetish video came on. The same tattoo on your thigh. That’s when I knew you’d become Milly LeBouche. You changed your name and you tried to hide the tattoo, but sometimes it was visible and I knew it was you. And then you were here and I thought someone had finally heard my prayers, that you were brought here just for me.”

  “Beth—”

  “You are meant to be mine. Why else would you pick this house out of all the houses in Houston? You are mine, and I’ll have you all to myself.”

  “But Beth, what about Olivia? She’s my baby.”

  “She’s in the way. But it’s okay.” She smiled brightly, holding up her free hand. “I figured it out. We’ll go away, just you and me. We’ll go somewhere nice. I’ve always wanted to go to San Francisco. Do you think that would be good? The sea air might be good for us. Healthy.”

  My heart was in my stomach. I wanted to rush her, to slam the stake I still clutched in my hand into her chest. I wanted to take out this threat to my child’s safety. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen the crazy before, that I hadn’t realized what a danger she was. Instead, I let her pick my daughter up at school and spend hours with her. What the hell was I thinking?

  And then I saw movement behind her. Someone was in Olivia’s room.

  “Okay, Beth,” I said slowly. “We can go to San Francisco. We can buy a nice little house there, live near a park? I like parks.”