Behind the Scandal

by M.A. Stacie

  “The money—”

  “Means shit!” His palm came down hard on the dashboard, and she jumped. “It stopped being about the money when I saw that kid. My kid.” He tapped the muzzle of the gun against her temple. Her body quaked in fear. “I’m bored of this game. I came to end it. To collect my prize.”

  This was it. The moment she’d dreaded since the day she ran. Libby had known all along that Chase would collect.

  There was only one way this would end.

  She sure as hell wasn’t ready for her story to end. She had a son, and a man she wanted her happy ever after with. Taylor had dealt with his demons head-on, and now it was her turn.

  A sense of calm settled over her as a plan formed. It was risky but it was all she had left.

  She sped up the truck and ignored the tear trickling down her cheek. She pictured Levi and Taylor, remembering their silly battles with the water guns. She pictured Josh and the wonderful warmth that came from him whenever she needed comfort. He’d been like a father when she’d dearly needed one. And she thought of her mother and the secrets Libby had kept from her. Her guts tightened with guilt, even though it had been for the best. If she’d known the truth, Chase could have hurt her for the information. Libby’s silence had ensured they all were safe.

  With that knowledge, along with the determination that Chase would never meet his son, Libby continued to increase her speed. She pictured her son, all big brown eyes and chubby cheeks. He was her greatest accomplishment, and she would do whatever it took to keep him safe.

  She pictured Taylor with his attitude and cocky grin. He’d saved her while saving himself, and she needed to tell him how she felt. Lastly, she pictured Josh again. He’d nurtured her with his gentle calm, never prying into her business, and never shocked when she revealed her past. They were her family.

  “Let’s put some music on and really get this party started.” Chase flicked on the radio, and rock music boomed through the crappy truck speakers. He hit the dashboard, each slap to the rhythm of the drumbeat, and shouted along to the music, rocking forward in his seat. Libby accelerated, knowing the pinnacle of her plan was just around the corner. Terror danced along her spine when she took the bend, and she tucked her head down and hoped it would be enough.

  As the truck veered toward the edge of the hill, she said, “I’m not sorry.”

  Her head hit the roof of the truck and her vision blurred, and the crunch of metal was the last sound she heard.

  Taylor couldn’t wait to see her. His longing had grown so intense he’d hired a car right after Kyran’s reception and driven the entire way to Hunter’s Hollow. He’d expected Kyran to mock him, but instead Kyran had gotten emotional and told Taylor how proud he was of him.

  Wanting to surprise her, Taylor hadn’t called, but he’d tried Josh a few times. His uncle had chuckled, amused Taylor couldn’t be without the woman for a few days. But it was more than that—he missed Levi, too, and the ranch in general.

  Hunter’s Hollow felt like home now.

  His life had taken so many wrong turns over the last few years. On each road he’d traveled, it had been clear from the start that the fit was all wrong. His quest seemed never-ending. When he’d arrived in Hunter’s Hollow he’d presumed this was yet another path that would lead him to self-destruction, before twisting back to a line or two of white powder in Sea Pointe. He shook his head. How wrong he’d been.

  Excitement, along with a good dose of anxiety, made his heart race. Libby hadn’t said she reciprocated his feelings, not that he’d given her a chance. He’d checked the hotel answering service numerous times to see if she’d called him back. She hadn’t, and he was nervous about seeing her again. Putting himself out there for her to possibly reject him would be the most masochistic thing he’d done. With Kyran and his father, he’d simply stopped trying to gain their acceptance and affection.

  Libby was different, would always be different.

  Taylor stared out across the fields of green. He’d already decided this was his future, and he hoped Libby would be with him in that.

  He checked his watch before looking back at the road. Frowning, he slowed the car. The fence on the bend before the ranch was broken. It had been the only protection against rolling down the embankment. The bushes beyond it now sported a car-sized hole, and there were deep skid marks on the road. Someone had gone over the hill.

  Taylor brought the car to a stop, climbed out, and raced over to the edge of the embankment. He stared through the gap in the bushes, concern flowing thick through his veins. Going off the road at this bend would kill someone.

  “Hello? Is anyone down there?” he yelled. “Anyone hurt?”

  Tilting his ear toward the gap, he listened for a response. A metallic grind of gears, followed by a loud pop, echoed across the land. There definitely was someone down there.

  “I’m going to get help. Hang in there!”

  He pulled his cell from his back pocket and dialed 911 when he heard the engine cut out. Another pop filled the air, followed by a plume of dark, acrid smoke. “Shit.”

  Taylor spoke to the operator quickly and detailed where he was. It would take a while for the local police to get there, but the operator assured him the helicopter had been dispatched.

  Taylor hung up and began to inch down the hill, step by step, clinging to branches to hold him steady. The ground stayed firm below his feet, but he dug the heels of his boots into the soil to make sure he didn’t slip. He shouted again and listened for a response.

  He heard a thump and then what sounded like a groan. He took another step and could see the upturned truck rammed against a tree. Smoke billowed from the engine, the smell lingering in the air. Taylor shuffled quicker toward the truck and was heading around to the driver’s side door when he saw an arm sticking out from the passenger side. He ducked down. “Are you okay?”

  He recoiled when he saw the body crumpled on the roof of the upturned truck. The man’s limbs were twisted, his leg sticking out in a way that wasn’t normal. Blood covered his face, and a large gash swept from one side of his forehead to the other.

  “Jesus,” Taylor hissed, reaching out with a shaking hand to touch the man’s neck.

  No pulse.

  Taylor swallowed thickly. “Christ, I’m sorry.” He crouched down and tried to see the driver but couldn’t. He thought maybe the man had been the driver and the force of the crash had sent his body flying across the seats.

  He saw her red hair first. It dangled lifelessly within the cab from the woman still strapped into her seat, her arm twisted in the crushed steering wheel. He scuttled around to the other side and got a look at her face. His stomach heaved.

  “Blue!”

  Chapter 27

  Libby opened her eyes, groaning as the light seemed to set off a bomb in her head. Pain vibrated in her skull, and every pulse of her heartbeat set off new explosions. She winced, lifting her hand to her head and frowning in confusion. Her arm felt heavy, cumbersome, and when she blinked it into focus she could see why. It had been covered in a cast.

  “Blue?” Taylor sprung into her line of sight and startled her. She gripped the white sheets. But they weren’t her sheets. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

  He placed a small plastic cup on the table at the side of the bed before leaning across to kiss her on her forehead. “Babe?”

  “I don’t . . . I . . . my head . . .”

  “Do you need some painkillers? I can go and get a doctor. In fact, I probably should.”

  “What?” she asked, her voice no more than a croak. She swallowed and cringed against her raw, dry throat. “What happened?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, making it messier than it already was. He looked exhausted, the skin underneath his eyes a deep shade of purple. There was at least two days’ growth of stubble over his jaw. “Don’t you remember?”

  Libby tried to think back, to work out why she was lying in a hospital bed. She recalled kissing Levi goodbye,
remembered hearing Josh’s truck as it left the ranch, and then—

  “Chase!” she shouted, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and yanking the drip from her hand. The world tilted on its axis, and her head spun. She inhaled, desperate to bury the dizziness and sickness. Spots appeared in front of her eyes as two large hands gripped her shoulders firm.

  “Hey, babe, come on,” Taylor said, his voice soothing. “You need to stay in the bed.”

  “Ch-Chase,” she spluttered, her breath growing shallow. Her palms were sweaty, and she shrugged to get free of Taylor’s grasp. Chase would come back, and this time she wouldn’t get out alive. No one would. “Taylor, let me go. You don’t understand. I have to leave.”

  “Shhhh,” he said and cupped her cheek. “That’s one hell of a welcome home. You’re a real smooth talker.”

  Libby paused, her forehead wrinkled. “What are you doing here?” she asked. Her head hurt. “What happened?”

  He smoothed his fingers across her forehead. It felt strange, and she touched the area herself. It was bandaged. She was seriously messed up. Taylor banded his arms around her torso and held her tighter than she’d ever been held before.

  The longer he clung to her, the more she relaxed. She’d missed him so much, and she could tell he felt the same.

  “Sit down. Please? We’ll talk,” he said lowly into her ear.

  “But Chase—he’ll find me here. He wants Levi. We were stupid to think he would be bought off. He’s—”

  “Dead.”

  She squinted and shook her head. “What?” Her heart gave one hard, heavy thump. “He’s . . . dead?”

  Taylor took hold of her hands and grasped them tight. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  Her lungs stuttered for air. “The door. He came in. The door . . . my face.” She whimpered. “He had a gun.”

  “Shh, baby, I know. It was by the truck when I found you. Chase was already dead. Snapped neck.”

  Libby winced, recalling the terrifying ride in the truck. “He didn’t put a seat belt on. It was all I could do.”

  He tilted his head and met her wavering gaze, his features set rigid with concern. “You drove the truck off the road on purpose?”

  She nodded.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Shit,” he muttered.

  Libby’s spine stiffened, but Taylor swamped her in his embrace again, and her whole body shook as tears burst from her eyes. They streamed down her face, and her chest heaved with each sob. Taylor never let go of her. Instead, he stroked his hand over her back and whispered gentle, calming words into her ear. She clung to him, her composure finally crumbling at her feet.

  Her body ached, pain radiating from her leg, arm, and chest. Her head throbbed as she replayed what it looked like when she drove the truck off the road. “Oh God, Taylor.”

  “Hush.” He kissed her, a quick, tender peck. “He’s gone, Blue. You’re safe. Levi’s safe.”

  Libby rested her head on his shoulder and allowed his scent, his presence, to calm her.

  “I love you,” she whispered, and she felt him smile against the side of her face.

  He kissed her cheek. “That’s perfect, really, because I love you to distraction. I couldn’t stay at Kyran’s wedding any longer than I had to. I cursed Kyran for letting Dale lead him by the balls, and yet I would happily allow you that pleasure.” His smile faded. “I suppose it was lucky I came home so early.”

  “Is it really home, Taylor?”

  “Without a doubt.” He lifted his head and waited until she met his gaze. “Wherever you and Levi are is home. I’ve told Kyran and Dad I’m not going back to Sea Pointe. My life is here. With you.” He closed his eyes and shivered. “You were a . . .” His face contorted, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “You were real messed up when I found you, babe. The doctors . . . well, they said it wasn’t all from the crash.”

  Shaking her head, she turned her face to stare out the small window. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m here and Chase isn’t.”

  “You’re not that cold. I know you, and I won’t let you bottle this up like you’ve done with everything else for years. Talk to me.”

  “Doesn’t it seem odd that before we met, we never talked to anyone about what was bothering us? And yet now all you do is demand I talk to you.”

  Taylor placed a finger on the side of her chin and moved her face to his. “That’s because we work, Blue. Stop fighting it. I have.”

  “I’m not fighting it,” she said, hating that he could read her so clearly.

  After delivering a soft kiss to her lips, he chuckled. “You are, but we can argue about that later.”

  Libby hugged him, loving the rush of emotion that flooded her. “I’m glad you’re staying. I’m happy you’re home.”

  “Do you think Levi will be, too?”

  She widened her eyes. “Levi! He and Josh were camping. Do they know—”

  “It’s okay. I’ve talked to Josh. He’s told Levi you were in an accident, that’s all. They should be here soon.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, she slumped against him. “I’ll have to tell him the truth.” Her stomach churned. “I can’t keep lying to him about Chase. He deserves to know.”

  Taylor stepped back and sat on the stiff-looking chair in the corner of her room. He coaxed her down into his lap and adjusted her until she sat comfortably. She sighed.

  He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Tell me what happened, babe.”

  Shuddering, she replayed the events through her mind. She doubted she would ever forget Chase’s hate-filled expression. It would be the subject of her nightmares for a long time to come.

  “He wanted me dead. What more is there to say? That day in town when we were shopping for Levi’s bike, he saw me. The money was never enough. Never what he wanted.”

  “Did he touch you, Lib? Your shirt was . . . ripped.” Taylor’s voice was gruff with emotion.

  “No.” She felt his chest deflate in relief. “He would have, but I ran. Just not far or fast enough.”

  “How bad are you hurting now? We should really get that drip put back in.”

  She smiled. “Don’t worry. The pain is irrelevant, because it’s over. He’s really dead?”

  Taylor nodded and kissed her forehead. “He was dead when I found you both. Damn near gave me a heart attack right there. I didn’t even see you at first. Then I noticed your hair. You were still strapped in. I cursed every second it took for the ambulance to arrive. I talked to you, tried to wake you up, but you were lifeless.” He blew out a long breath. “I could feel a pulse, but I kept second-guessing myself. You scared the shit out of me.”

  Libby snuggled closer. “How come you were there?”

  “Had to be fate. Kyran hired me a car when I told him I couldn’t be away from you any longer. That was after he stopped laughing.”

  “You guys are okay, then?”

  “We’re good, babe. And I’m not going back. Except . . .” He tapped his finger against the side of his nose. “I’ll have to go back to fix this. Dad’s arranging it. But I guess it could have been worse. My septum could have completely caved—would have, too, if I hadn’t OD’d in the bathroom. I’d have continued snorting, kept on ignoring the world around me. Jesus, then I wouldn’t have you.” He framed her face with his hands. “In some sick, fucked up way, every line of coke I snorted brought me closer to you. Closer to my future. I fucking adore you, babe.”

  His kiss dissolved the pulsing pain within her body. It evaporated the heartache and hurt, washed away the anxiety and gave her hope. This man had redefined himself, and in doing so he’d redefined her. “I love you, too,” she whispered against his lips.

  “Good, because then you’ll let me get the doctor.”

  He stood, lifted her with him, and placed her carefully on the hospital bed.

  Her agitation skyrocketed. “Don’t leave.”

  Taylor held a finger to his lips and pressed the call button by the
bed. “I’m not going anywhere. Understand that.”

  All she could was nod. She was beginning to comprehend that he meant it. The realization was just taking time to sink in, because no one had been there for her like Taylor.

  “However, I can’t promise to be by your side every minute of the day. We all need a bathroom break every once in a while.” He winked and kissed the tip of her nose. When he pulled away she saw a doctor in the doorway, smiling.

  “Hello, Miss Karlin. Good to see you awake. I’m Dr. Robb.” He stepped farther into the room. “Any pain?”

  She reached for Taylor’s hand and grasped it tightly. “A bit, but it’s manageable.” She raised her arm. “Is it broken?”

  “Fractured in several places. The safest option was for us to set it in a cast. You’re actually very lucky. That kind of crash could have been far worse.”

  “My side,” she said, pointing to her ribcage. “It hurts, too.”

  He nodded. “You fractured a rib. There’s also substantial bruising across your chest from the seat belt. You have a mild concussion and many, many cuts and scratches.”

  Taylor squeezed her hand. “When do you think she’ll be allowed home?”

  “A day, maybe two.” He lifted her chart from the end of the bed, pulled a pen from his breast pocket, and scribbled something onto the paper. “The police want to speak to you. Shall I call them?”

  Nerves hit her square in the chest, and her breath grew labored. Taylor spoke into her ear—it sounded muffled as the roaring in her ears increased in volume. How was she going to explain any of this?

  “Miss Karlin, the police just want to go over the events that led up to the crash. The process is quite normal in these circumstances.”

  Taylor’s support calmed her, and finally she nodded and said, “All right.” She waited until Dr. Robb left and then turned to Taylor. “What do I tell them?”