Imminent Danger

by Carla Cassidy

  “Yeah, but I was relieved when she told me to go away.” The confession fell from Jesse’s lips on a sigh of forlorn pain. This, more than anything had haunted Jesse’s very soul, the fact that he’d been relieved not to have to deal with Paul’s blindness.

  Paul sighed, as well, and raked a hand through his hair, causing his cowlick to become more pronounced. “And to tell you the honest truth, I was glad you didn’t come to see me.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Jesse returned. “You must have been so angry at me.”

  “At you? Nah. Why would I be mad at you? I didn’t want to see you because I was angry at the Fates. I was angry, but more than that I was scared and I sure didn’t want my best friend to see me crying and carrying on like a baby.”

  Paul’s cheeks flushed a dull red. “I was a mess for about a month, and I’m glad nobody but my parents saw me like that. It was less a burden to handle it all alone, without having to put on any macho pretense for your benefit.”

  “I still say I should have been there for you. I wouldn’t have cared if you cried,” Jesse replied. “I was a coward,” he added bitterly.

  “You were a kid, like me,” Paul countered. “What did we know about how to handle tragedy? Hell, for us, tragedy was a pimple on our chin on Saturday night, or my mom calling me Paulie in front of any girl of any age. We weren’t equipped to know how to deal with the real hard stuff.”

  Paul laughed suddenly. “Speaking of tragedies, remember when Buddy Loreen tried to dye his hair darker?”

  “And he came to school the next day with his forehead and ears all black?” Jesse’s laughter joined Paul’s.

  Suddenly they were thrust back in time, sharing stories of boyhood friendship, retying the knots of friendship that had raveled a bit with age, but hadn’t broken completely.

  Each remembered story, each moment of shared laughter further healed the pain in Jesse’s heart, soothed the guilt away as if it had never existed.

  When Ellen invited him to stay for dinner, he readily accepted, not eager to call an end to the magical visit. And it was magic. He and Paul picked up as if it had only been a day since they’d last seen one another.

  Throughout dinner, Jesse learned more about Paul’s life, that he spent much of his time developing computer programs specifically geared toward the sight impaired.

  “Heck, the accident was the best thing that happened to me,” Paul said over the evening meal. “It forced me to use my head instead of my brawn. Before the accident, I was certain I was going to be a Hall of Fame football player, so I didn’t utilize my brain very much.”

  “There are days I think he still gets confused about what part of his anatomy he should be using,” Ellen said dryly.

  After the meal, while the adults were still seated at the table and the twins had gone into their room to play, Jesse found himself telling Paul and Ellen about his work, his life…and about Allison.

  “Sounds like the lady has had a tough time,” Ellen said when he’d finished recounting the murders that had brought Allison to his care.

  “She has, but she’s got a lot of heart.” A smile curved Jesse’s lips as he thought of Allison. “She’s funny and bright, beautiful and stubborn.”

  “Sounds like you’re crazy about this Allison,” Paul observed.

  “I am. I’m in love with her,” Jesse answered easily. He drew a deep breath as the realization of what he’d said, what he felt, hit him square in the chest.

  Without the guilt, without the self-hate he’d carried for so long, his love for Allison suddenly blossomed vivid and intense inside him.

  He realized now she’d been completely wrong. His love for her had nothing to do with unfinished business with Paul. It had everything to do with the woman herself.

  “I love her like I’ve never loved anyone before in my entire life,” he exclaimed.

  “Didn’t you say she was leaving first thing in the morning?” Ellen asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then what are you doing sitting here with us?” Paul smiled toward his wife. “He always was slow with the women.”

  Jesse stood from the table, his need to get back to Mustang and Allison overwhelming. “I hate to eat and run, but you’re right. I’ve got to get back home.”

  Paul stood and walked him to the front door. Once there, the two men embraced in a warm hug they’d have never allowed in their adolescence. “Don’t be a stranger,” Paul said. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” Jesse replied warmly.

  “And if you really love Allison, don’t let her get away.”

  “Thanks, Paul, for everything. And don’t worry, you haven’t seen the last of me. Next time I show up here, hopefully I won’t be alone.” With these final words, Jesse left Paul’s house and headed back to his car.

  As he left Grange City, the last of the evening sun was sinking down in the sky. When it rose again, Allison intended to walk out of his life.

  He stepped on the gas pedal. Not if he could help it. Somehow, someway, he had to make her see that they belonged together.

  “Shelly, please go,” Allison said. “I know it must be getting close to the time you’re supposed to meet Sam. Jesse will probably be home soon and I’ll be just fine in the meantime.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” Shelly protested. “Jesse would kill me if I left you here alone.”

  Allison frowned irritably. She was tired of requiring a nursemaid, and there was nothing more she wanted than some time alone—time to prepare herself for saying goodbye to Mustang…to Jesse.

  “Can’t you call Vic and have him come and stay here so you can make your date with Sam?” Allison didn’t want to be the reason Shelly couldn’t keep her date with her handsome deputy.

  “Can’t. Vic is on patrol duty this evening.”

  “Then call him and ask him to check in on me. That should be enough to make Jesse happy, and you can get out of here. Please, Shelly. I just need this evening to be alone.”

  She felt Shelly’s hesitation, knew the young woman was giving her idea credence. “If Vic will drive by occasionally, and I keep the doors and windows locked tight, I’ll be fine. I’ll make it right with Jesse. I’ll tell him I threw you out.”

  “All right,” Shelly relented with a great deal of reluctance in her voice, “but only if Vic agrees to do frequent drive-by checks.” As Shelly left the living room and went to the phone in the kitchen, Allison sank back into the sofa cushions with a sigh.

  She’d had a headache all afternoon and the evening hours were bringing no relief. She knew it was from all the tears she’d shed into her pillow. Tears for Jesse, tears for herself, tears for the love that should—could—never be. And still the tears pressed dangerously thick behind her eyes.

  She was tired of putting on a pleasant air for Shelly, tired of forcing conversation she didn’t feel like having. She wanted to be alone. She needed to be alone.

  Shelly returned from the kitchen. “Okay, I got hold of Vic and he said he’ll drive by here about every fifteen minutes or so until he sees Jesse’s car back in the driveway. Are you absolutely sure this is going to be okay?”

  “I insist,” Allison replied, rising from the sofa. Now that Shelly had agreed, she was eager to get the woman out the door and on with her life, hopefully with her Sam.

  It seemed only right that at least one of them should get their heart’s desire. “Now go. Have fun with Sam and show him that you’re the woman he needs in his life.”

  Shelly leaned forward and kissed Allison’s cheek. “I’m really going to miss you. Would you please try to stay in touch?”

  “I will,” Allison replied, although it was a lie. There was no way she could stay in touch with Shelly without the pain of Jesse haunting her. Allison knew the only way to survive the heartache was to cut it cleanly and quickly away. She had to cut all ties to Mustang.

  “Lock the door behind me,” Shelly instructed.

  “I will.” The moment Sh
elly stepped outside, Allison closed the door and carefully locked it.

  Alone. The silence of the house pressed inward, as empty, as silent as her heart. Had she made a mistake in pushing Jesse away?

  Would it be so wrong to just accept his love? Let him decide if he wanted the burden of a blind wife or not? Would it be wrong to be willing to accept his love even if she wasn’t sure of the forces that had prompted him to love her?

  It was too late. Jesse was gone, and his absence spoke louder than any words he could use. Perhaps he’d needed time to think, and in the time that he’d spent away, he’d realized he didn’t want a blind wife and that his love for her had been prompted by his unresolved feelings where Paul was concerned.

  In any case, it appeared his plan was to stay gone until he was certain she was already asleep when he returned home. They probably wouldn’t have much time together in the morning before Keller arrived to take her back to Chicago.

  She should go pack. She’d put it off all afternoon and had refused to think about it this evening. But the evening was waning into night and she knew she wouldn’t want to face the packing in the morning.

  She started down the hallway, but instead of turning into her bedroom, found herself standing in the center of Jesse’s. In this room, his scent remained, and it filled her senses as she grieved what would never be.

  Crawling onto his bed, she grabbed his pillow and held it to her chest, the tears once again sliding down her cheeks as deep sobs rent her body.

  Maybe this was why her mother had warned her about becoming dependent on a man. Maybe this was why her mother had never sought out love again when her husband had left her. Because it felt like a kind of death when you lost the one you loved.

  She didn’t know how long she remained on Jesse’s bed, crying for the mornings they’d never have together, the nights of passion they’d never share. She only had a sense of time passing, of the evening waning into night.

  Wearily she roused herself from the bed and went into her own bedroom. She found her suitcases on the floor of the closet and opened them in the center of the bed.

  It didn’t take her long to pack the few items she’d brought with her. She lingered over the silk dress Jesse had bought her, unsure if she should take it with her or not. She finally decided to pack it, knowing he wouldn’t give it to anyone else and had no use for it.

  Besides, she thought, her heart aching, he’d bought it for her because it matched her eyes. When she finished packing, she changed from her clothes and pulled on her nightgown.

  For a brief moment, she thought about going back into Jesse’s room and crawling into his bed. Just one more night of being held in his arms, feeling his heart beating with her own, tasting his mouth as he drank of hers.

  The impulse lasted only a moment. Then she got into her bed and closed her eyes, begging sleep to come quickly and praying that she didn’t dream of what might have been.

  She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep when something awakened her. She remained still as sleep instantly transformed to complete wakefulness.

  Jesse must have finally come home, she thought. She turned on her side and once again closed her eyes. Her bedroom door creaked open and still she remained unmoving, assuming Jesse was checking to see if she was asleep.

  She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to talk to him. They had nothing left to say to one another, and more talk would only further break her heart.

  She tensed as she sensed him coming closer to the bed. The floorboards creaked beneath his weight and he froze for an instant. At that moment she realized it wasn’t Jesse in her room. Whoever it was, was bigger than Jesse, and smelled different. Her heart nearly exploded out of her chest.

  Before she could respond in any way, large hands slapped tape across her mouth and those same large hands grabbed her forearms in an attempt to still the fight that had come too late.

  Her mind reeled. She knew. She knew now who was in her room.

  Casanova.

  She struggled to get free, kicking her feet, thrashing her body and screaming ineffectually against the barrier of the tape across her mouth.

  Somebody help me! Please! Somebody! Jesse…help me! She didn’t know if she were screaming the words or if they were only being screamed in her mind.

  He released her arms and instead grabbed both her legs and attempted to press her ankles together. She knew what he was doing. He intended to tape her ankles together, then he’d tape her wrists together.

  When he had her trussed up, he’d carry her out of the house and drive her to the kissing tree. There he would rape her like he’d done to Maggie. Terror sizzled through her, hot and choking as she thought of being violated.

  As he taped her feet, she hit him as hard as she could on the back with her hands. She pulled his hair and tried to scratch at him. He grunted beneath the assault, but held tight to her legs until they were firmly taped together.

  As Allison struggled to get free, her mind raced. He was a big man and he smelled familiar. Too familiar. Recognition fluttered through her. She knew him. She knew his name.

  Why? Why was he doing this? What drove him to do such unspeakable acts? She had no time to reflect on these questions. They flitted through her head then were gone, overwhelmed by the instinct for survival, the need to fight.

  He tried to grab her hands, but she flailed wildly. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him. With one hand, she frantically felt around on her nightstand, seeking something, anything that might be used as a weapon. She heard the bedside lamp fall to the floor and a box of tissues flew aside.

  Already she was tiring, her struggles growing weaker. He was going to win. He was bigger…stronger…and she was no worthy opponent.

  Her hand closed around something—the soap sculpture—and although it was ineffectual as a weapon, she dropped it next to her. At the same time he managed to grab her arms.

  He finished binding her, then picked her up and swung her up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Allison’s fear clawed through her, making her want to retch.

  Where are you, Jesse? her mind screamed. Please come home now. Please find me before he rapes me.

  She knew when he stepped out the front door, felt the cool night air lick at the skin the thin nightgown didn’t cover. She renewed her fight, knowing that if he managed to get her in his car, all would be lost.

  His beefy hands held her tight against his shoulder and neck, and with her hands and legs bound together, she couldn’t manage to break free.

  She heard the car door open, then felt herself tossed into the back seat of his vehicle and the car door closed once again. She lay on the seat that smelled of fast-food wrappers and minty soap, trying to catch her breath.

  It was hard to breathe against the tape across her mouth. She longed to pull it free and draw deep gulps of air. Instead she focused on the tape that held her wrists tightly together as Casanova got into the front seat and started the engine of the car.

  She knew the drive from Jesse’s house to the kissing tree took about fifteen minutes. That gave her fifteen minutes to try to get free and form a plan of escape. Otherwise… She steadfastly refused to consider otherwise.

  Chapter 14

  Jesse drove as fast as he dared, fighting the impulse to use his siren and lights to eat up the miles more quickly. But he hesitated using official equipment for personal business. Besides, fifteen minutes one way or the other won’t make that much difference, he told himself.

  He felt better than he had in years. He felt clean and whole, eager and open to all possibilities. He hoped having Allison in his life was more than a possibility. He wanted to make her a certainty.

  He stepped on the gas pedal, flirting with breaking the speed limit. Allison’s name sang through his veins as his heart pumped the rhythm of love.

  She’d managed to make him doubt himself, doubt the feelings she evoked in him. But the time spent with Paul had fixed the confusion.

 
His feelings for Allison had absolutely nothing to do with the tragic accident so long ago and his blind friend. Her blindness was not something he had to fix for his own redemption. He loved her, and it was as simple, and as complicated, as that.

  And he’d thought she might love him, too. His heart soared. He couldn’t be sure if Allison only believed she loved him because of her current circumstances. It was possible if she ever regained her sight, her love for him would fade.

  They’d face that situation if and when it happened. Even if they had six months…a year together, it would be more than worth the risk.

  He smiled inwardly at this thought. A year ago, even a month ago, he hadn’t been willing to take risks. Risks usually meant loss, and Jesse’s heart hadn’t been whole enough to gamble on another loss in his life.

  But now, the risk of eventually losing Allison was worth taking a chance. He had to take a chance on the hopes that their love was based on nothing more than mutual desire, respect and admiration for one another.

  He had to risk his heart to seek his ultimate salvation and future happiness. Somehow, someway, he would make Allison see that his love was a fine, good thing with no hidden agendas involved.

  Keller had said he would arrive in Mustang around nine. Jesse glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was almost 8:00 p.m. and he was only minutes from his home. That gave him thirteen hours to convince Allison to remain in Mustang, to stay with him.

  Thirteen hours. He’d never been a superstitious man before and he wasn’t about to start worrying now. He simply hoped the number thirteen would prove lucky for him. He couldn’t imagine his life without Allison.

  He frowned as he pulled into his driveway. His front door stood wide open, spilling light from the living room out into the night.

  No other cars were in the driveway and Jesse wondered where Shelly was. And why was the door standing open? He got out of his car, a bad feeling rolling in the pit of his stomach.

  Before entering the house, he grabbed his gun and holster. He’d taken it off and locked it in the trunk to go to Paul’s, but the apprehension that crept up his spine whispered a warning.