by T. M. Cromer
“This is definitely going to be mutual. I have plans to put you through your paces later. Trust me, you’ll do some of the work,” he warned, grabbing one for himself. “Holyshitthasssfreakingood!”
The words ran together, muffled by the doughy goodness. She snorted in glee. Yep, Zack was learning how incredible junk food could be.
A short while later they lay cuddled together, an old black and white film playing on the television screen. Zack’s fingers created lazy patterns over her back as she rested under his arm, head over his heart. If there had been no threat to her, this would be perfect to her way of thinking.
“Do you think they’ll catch her anytime soon?” The question had to be asked.
She felt his heavy sigh before he answered. “I don’t know.”
“I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can stand. Every time I leave the house, she does her damnedest to murder me.”
His fingers paused in their motion, as he contemplated her upturned face.
“She won’t succeed,” he promised.
“You can’t know that. But what if she’d shot you instead tonight? Jacob would be without a parent. We can no longer take that chance,” she said, voice low and sad. “It’s selfish of us. We need to put your son first.”
His lips tightened, and he dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling.
“It’s not going to be an issue. They’ll find her.”
She knew he wanted to believe it. Hell, she wanted to as well. But the truth was, there were no guarantees Christie would be captured or she wouldn’t mortally wound one, or both, of them in the process.
Erica cleared her throat and sat up. She toyed with the sheet bunched in her lap. “I’m leaving, Zack.”
Silence greeted her statement.
“You aren’t going to say anything?” she asked, voice hardly above a whisper.
“What do you want me to say? I think we’ve played all this out,” he rasped. “You’re determined to go. Then go. I can’t stop you. I won’t.”
One tear, two, and then a third trailed down her pale cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Being a coward?” he snapped.
“What? How is that fair? She’s slashed tires, carved a warning in my car, burned down my damned house, stabbed me, and now—now—has shot at me,” she retorted. “I’m tired of waking up not knowing if this is the day my life is going to end.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He shoved off the bed and stalked to the window.
“Whatever? Are you kidding me right now?” she demanded. “How does any of what I’ve gone through warrant your scorn?”
He spun to face her in all his naked glory.
“Because you won’t fight. You are going to let a crazy woman dictate our lives.” He flung out an arm to emphasis his point.
“I’m not as strong as you. And I’m tired of strife,” she said, subdued. “If we were dealing with someone sane, if this was a court battle over custody or some everyday situation with a shrew ex, I would never dream of going. But it’s not.” She got up and joined him. She placed one hand alongside his jaw. “Please understand. I’m putting everyone in danger by hanging around. And I have a bad feeling about this. It’s getting stronger every day.”
“If you leave, I can’t protect you,” he said. “Don’t you get it?”
She didn’t know how to break it to him that he hadn’t been able to protect her to date, so she said nothing.
* * *
Zack recognized the exact second she firmed her resolve to leave. The thought of her going was near making him physically ill. Nausea churned in his stomach and the bile teased the back of his throat. He’d fallen so fast and so hard for her, he wondered if he could ever recover from her leaving.
“Go to sleep, Erica,” he said, tired to the bone. “You don’t have to make arrangements to leave tonight.”
“I’m sorry.”
He heard the tears in her voice, saw the shimmering emotion in her eyes. He wasn’t immune to her pain, but he was dealing with his own hurt. There was nothing left to say. With a curt nod, he started to dress, for once feeling vulnerable with no clothes in her presence. Each article of clothing was another layer of armor.
“I’ll get another room for tonight.”
“Zack, that’s stupid. Why not stay with me?”
He stared into her eyes for forever. Words rushed up, begging to be said. He told himself there was no use swallowing his pride and pleading. She wouldn’t be swayed. The problem with staying was he would end up pleading with her before the night was over. And what would be the point? The outcome would be the same, and embarrassment would reign.
He spun on his heel and moved to exit the suite.
“You can have the room. I’ll take a cab back to your house and pack,” she said.
“You’re not going back there by yourself, dammit,” he snapped. “Do you have a fucking death wish?”
“Well, I’m not staying here with you acting like this,” she fired back.
“Fine, get dressed. I’ll go check us out.”
“Fine!” she yelled.
“Fine!” he yelled back.
“For the record, you’re being a dick.”
“I got your dick,” he said nastily.
“Oh, that’s right. Do resort to being a vulgar ass,” she hissed.
She was like a duck on a carnival shooting game. Going one direction, jerking to a stop and heading back in another. Periodically bending to pick up a bra, shoe, or some such. Flinging the sheet, comforter, or pillows out of her way. She spent an inordinate amount of time on a hunt for some mysterious item. He suspected it was her thong, tucked safely away in his jacket pocket. He was of the mind to let her continue her search, because he felt like being petty. And because he had no intention of relinquishing his souvenir from tonight.
While he waited, he picked up a box of unopened donuts. With a pang in his heart, he tossed them in the trash. Her scandalized gasp had him whipping around.
“You don’t throw perfectly good donuts in the trash, you idiot! What the hell’s the matter with you?”
Her outrage reminded him of the morning she couldn’t find coffee in his house. If looks could kill, he’d already be dead and buried. Self-preservation screamed at him to make a run for it. But tonight he was feeling reckless and ready for a fight.
“I got them for one reason only. That clearly was shot to hell,” he said coldly. “Should I dig them out for you? Maybe you can snuggle up to them when you’re lonely at night. Oh wait, isn’t that why you joined my gym in the first place?”
“Dig them out for yourself, and I’ll tell you where you can shove them!”
“Are you ready yet? I don’t want to keep you from running away,” he sneered.
Her eyes turned hard as glass. “When you look back, remember you were the one who made a beautiful night ugly, okay?”
Suddenly, he found it hard to breathe. A fist squeezed his heart, and his mind went blank but for the pain he was feeling. Maybe it was a heart attack. Wouldn’t it be better than the alternative of heartbreak?
“Weren’t you going to check us out?” she reminded him with a pointed look toward the door.
If he stayed, he’d strangle her. He wrenched open the door and hurried down the hall, eager to be away. It took ten minutes to hunt up the nighttime clerk, and another five to settle the bill. He returned to find Erica gone. If she was safe, he intended to kill her.
Erica was fit to be tied. Who the hell did he think he was? Man, had she misjudged him. Sitting in the back of the Uber car, she fumed. It required a good ten minutes to calm down enough to realize whatever landmarks she recognized were leading away from the direction they should have been heading.
Leaning forward, she opened her mouth to tell the female driver of her mistake. She caught sight of a gun in the front seat. Raising her eyes slowly, she met the icy stare of the driver. Too late. The color and make of the car sank into her brain. A cream colored seda
n! Exactly like the one parked across the street from Zack’s house a few weeks back.
Shock held her paralyzed. Jesus, she was a moron. She’d played right into Christie’s hands. And she had no doubt that’s who was driving her now. She should have listened to the inner voice telling her danger was imminent.
Eyeballing the speedometer, Erica determined jumping wouldn’t be the smartest idea. If the fall didn’t kill her, it might damn well break her neck. The better course of action would be to bide her time and try to escape. She’d be lucky if she survived this little faux pas.
Chapter Fifteen
Within an hour of Erica’s disappearance, Zack was concerned. By two hours, he was in a panic. By three hours, he was ready to commit murder. His house was crammed full of people; the police, his brothers, and Shonda. Sometime during the night Charlie and Judith had brought Jacob home when they saw the commotion on their block.
If one more cop asked him the same fucking question, he was going to end up in jail for assaulting an officer. He supposed both Bucky and Mason recognized this since they did their damnedest to field questions while he paced.
“Why are any of you still here? Go out and do your fucking jobs!” he yelled. His hands gripped his hair, ready to pull it out in his frustration.
Bucky slammed a hand into his chest, shoving him back a step. “Zack, you need to calm the fuck down.”
The surprise of the push and the authoritative tone had him acceding to the order. He’d underestimated his long-time friend. Forgotten he was more than an overweight buddy in a uniform.
He searched the faces of the officers in the room, seeing compassion on a few faces, anger on one or two others. No one liked to be told they weren’t doing their job. He should have remembered that. As a boss, he knew about tact. But his had gone by way of his patience. His only excuse was temporary insanity. He’d worried so long and hard, his mind was mush. He’d been pushed over the edge into Mentalville. How long he would stay there was anyone’s guess if Erica wasn’t found soon.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He walked to each officer and shook their hand. “I really do appreciate what you are doing. I’m…”
To a man, they all understood when he trailed off to clear his throat. The softening in their expressions told him as much.
“We’ll find her, man,” Bucky promised, raising a hand to clasp his shoulder.
Zack nodded and then cleared his throat for the second time. “If you’ll excuse me.”
He raced to his room to give in to the panic attack which hit him full force. Shonda startled him as she rushed into the room behind him.
“Breathe,” she urged and sat on the bed next to him. She rubbed his upper back in small circles.
“I-I… ca-can’t…”
“You can or you wouldn’t be speaking right now.”
He had to acknowledge the logic in her statement. He tried to regulate his breathing. That he’d mindlessly clamped a hand on her thigh to latch onto something stable became apparent as Mason lurked in the doorway, glowering at the offending limb.
“The only reason I’m not ripping it off is because you are hurting,” his brother said, moving closer. “After this, all bets are off.”
Oddly enough, Mason’s territorial words were what he needed to get hold of his emotions. To bust his brother’s balls, Zack moved the hand up a few inches. Shonda’s gasp and Mason’s growl almost had him laughing. Probably would have, had the circumstances not been so dire.
“Just making sure that’s the way the wind blew,” Zack said with a smirk.
“Dickhead.”
“Asshat.”
The levity passed. He was back to being terrified for Erica. Because he needed to move, he relinquished his spot on the bed to Mason and started to pace.
“Dad?”
The sound of Jacob’s scared voice had him whipping around. “Hey, lil man.”
“Is it true? Is Erica missing? Was it my mom who hurt her?”
“Who told you that?” Zack folded his son in a hug, casting an anxious glance at Dane, who’d trailed after Jacob.
The negative headshake from Dane eased his mind a bit.
“I heard Grandpa yelling at Grandma.”
Zack pulled back to view the boy’s face. “Why was he yelling?”
“He said it was all Grandma’s fault. That she cud-cod…”
“Coddled?”
“Yeah, coddled her too much. That maybe if she hadn’t hid the fact Mom hadn’t died in the fire, this would never have happened.”
Hearing him retell his grandparent’s discussion was like a fist to his gut. Judith had known all along. Probably had been the one helping and concealing Christie’s whereabouts. Erica had called it when she said Christie had needed help pulling everything off. The real question here was how far would Judith go to protect her daughter?
“Son, I need you to stay here for a little while. I need to talk to your grandparents. Can you do that?”
Jacob nodded his agreement.
“I can stay with him,” Shonda said.
“Thanks.”
Mason jumped up to follow him. As he stood in front of Charlie, flanked on both sides by his brothers, Zack demanded answers.
“Are you telling me you knew all along Christie was alive and that she was behind the early attacks?”
The menace in his tone couldn’t be mistaken. Judith cringed. Charlie stepped to one side, no longer willing to protect his wife’s folly. “Ask her. I only found out about it tonight.”
She refused to answer.
“Judith, for God’s sake, a woman’s life is at risk!” Charlie barked.
“Then she shouldn’t have thrown herself at Zack,” she responded. The venom behind her words startled everyone.
“Listen to me very carefully. I know you love Jacob, so I’m only going to say this once. If you want to continue to be a part of his life, you will tell me everything. You’re lucky I am not turning you over to the police as an accessory to the crimes she’s committed.”
She remained mute, chin in the air. Hatred burned brightly in her eyes.
“You blame me.” Zack realized she did. She blamed him for everything her daughter had gone through. “Why? What did I do?”
“You didn’t love her!” she spat. “All she dreamed about was being your wife and a mother to Jacob. You rejected her. Took her son away.”
“No, Judith. You’re remembering it wrong,” Charlie inserted, horrified by his wife’s tangent.
“You’re right. I never loved her,” Zack confirmed. “I cared for her in the beginning. But it was her own games and disregard for anyone else’s feelings that turned me off. That, and the fact she tried to drown my son!”
Enraged, she lunged forward, hands extended like claws.
Charlie caught her before she could strike. His shocked gaze met Zack’s grim eyes. “You have to believe I had no idea, Zack. Please.”
The sincerity shone bright and true. Zack knew Charlie well enough to understand he would be beating himself up for a very long time due to this night.
“I still need to know where she might have taken Erica. Is there anywhere you can think of?”
“I’m afraid not. But if I had to guess, maybe where you first met or some significant date you had with Christie in the past?”
“You’ll never find her. Your little whore is as good as dead,” Judith cackled.
A chill ran down Zack’s spine. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she had not only helped her daughter in her harebrained scheme, but had fueled the flames. Had she been responsible for Christie going off the deep end all those years ago?
“I’ll find her. Never doubt it,” his hard voice assured her.
When Bucky stepped forward to arrest Judith, Zack was stunned to find the other man was still there. He’d been so focused on her, he’d forgotten anyone else was in the room for a minute.
“I’m sorry. I have to take her in, Cap,” Bucky told Charlie. “You know she’s an a
ccessory to multiple crimes.”
“Of course,” Charlie said, looking as if he’d aged a decade in the last ten minutes.
Judith spewed more vitriol as they cuffed her. “You spineless bastard! Do you know what it was like being married to you all these years? You are a pathetic excuse for a man. You cozied up to the one person who treated our daughter like she was worthless garbage to be tossed away.”
Zack watched, silent and aching for his friend. Charlie had been like a father to him after his own had taken off. He’d been lenient with the Sharp brothers when he’d been captain of the police department. The three of them had been hooligans, but they were never mean, and Charlie understood that. It was probably why he’d been inclined to let them off with a warning more often than not.
After she’d been hauled away, still cursing all their names, Charlie turned to him, apology in every line of his body.
“You don’t have to say it, Charlie. None of this was your fault,” Zack said softly.
“And none of it was yours. It was hers. I didn’t see it before. Or if I did, well…”
“You love them. It’s easy to be blind to their faults or at least try to overlook them,” he said. “But I never intentionally set out to hurt Christie. I need you to believe that.”
Charlie offered up a sad smile and placed a comforting hand on Zack’s shoulder. “I do, son. I do. Do you want me to take Jacob back with me?”
“No.” Zack saw where what he said could be misconstrued, as hurt flashed in Charlie’s tired gray eyes. “I want him here where I can see him. I know you would never let anything happen to him. I just need to have him close tonight. You’re welcome to crash here in the spare room.”
“No. I only live three doors down. No point in that. You have my number. Don’t hesitate to call me, if I can be of service.”
Sadness gripped him. This poor man had lost everything and yet, there he stood, proud, offering to help. Zack was humbled and grateful to have this influence in his and Jacob’s lives.