by Celia Ashley
“Some lookout. I crept right up on you.”
“No,” said Liam, keeping his voice low. “You didn’t. If you had, you’d be lying on the rocks right now with a broken neck.”
“Bullshit.”
Liam said nothing, continuing to observe the work transpiring on the narrow stretch of beach by the cave. He heard the snick of something metal and tensed, but after a moment Raleigh chuckled. “You’ve got balls, Gray, I’ll give you that. Being a ladies’ man, though, I don’t have much use for anybody’s balls but my own.”
The muscles in Liam’s abdomen tightened. “So I’ve heard.”
“Yeah, and I know a bit more about you than you’d probably like, but we’ll talk about that another time.”
“Confessions before you try to kill me?”
For a full half minute, Raleigh didn’t speak. Liam’s entire body tensed in preparation for attack. He wondered if he’d gone too far, but he didn’t care. He’d recently found himself grown impatient with waiting for the final strike.
“Wouldn’t be the first time, but I usually don’t bother with pretty speeches beforehand.”
Liam’s shoulders didn’t relax, not even a little. “I’ve heard that, too.”
“Anything you heard,” said Raleigh, before beginning a descent to the beach, “is only half the story.”
And therein existed the problem. In order to make good on six months’ careful planning, waiting for all the pieces to come together in order to grab every player, what he needed—what they needed—was more than half the story. They needed it all.
Chapter 25
Nearby, a tray dropped. Paige flinched behind sunglasses at the ungodly clatter. Letting her breath out, she speared the cut, stacked pancake triangles laden with syrup and forced them into her mouth. Dan and Liam had arrived at the diner two minutes ago, one right after the other, and were exchanging heated words in an undertone by the entrance. The heck with them and whatever man business made them act like a pair of idiots. She shoveled in another mouthful of her breakfast.
When their legs paused beside the table, Paige set her fork down. “Gentlemen.”
“Slide over, would you?”
Paige made room for Liam. Dan took the seat opposite. He placed his elbows on the table, vibrating the utensils. Paige winced.
“Hungover?” asked Dan.
“Yeah,” she said, “a bit.”
“Why, did you have more than half a beer?” Liam said beside her.
She mopped pancake through syrup puddles, then set the fork down on her plate. “Split half a fifth of scotch whiskey with Felicia.”
Dan whistled. Paige squeezed her eyes shut. “My freaking hair hurts.” She lifted her right eyelid in time to catch one of those damned inscrutable looks between Liam and Dan. She didn’t possess the energy to question it. Liam’s arm came up across the back of the booth, his fingers settling on her left shoulder. Even that hurt, but she kept quiet.
Both men waited to place orders for coffee with the waitress before interrogating her again. She went back to eating, slowly and steadily, keeping her head down.
“So,” said Dan, dumping a huge amount of sugar into his coffee cup. “What have you found out?”
Paige pushed her plate away, fighting nausea. “I would have called last night, but I passed out on Felicia’s couch. And stop looking at each other like that. What is it with you two?”
Liam stroked her shoulder through her blouse. She bit her lip. “Was she able to tell you much?” he asked.
“She was able to tell me…everything.” Emotion clogged her throat. She picked up the ice water and drank—all of it—and asked for more. “Dad never hit my mom.”
“But the report—”
“Screw the report.” Paige recoiled at the noise her own voice made inside her head. “It wasn’t him. It was…it was her boyfriend. Her lover. The man she was having an affair with. And don’t you look at each other. Look at me. I’m the one talking.”
Liam leaned over, pressing his lips to her temple. “You’re cranky when you drink.”
Paige started to cry. Neither man spoke, but both started shooting glances around the diner, probably to see who was noticing. Paige gulped on a sob and straightened, angry. She blew her nose in her napkin. “I’m fine. I was lied to my whole life. I was allowed to believe my father had abused my mother. And you know what? Part of me knew it wasn’t all true. I pretended I was wrong, though, and took the created version of my parents’ relationship as gospel. So many things I didn’t quite understand as a child, and I let them fade into the background. That much is my fault, without a doubt, but because of what my mother had done, I had no relationship with my dad for sixteen years. For my safety, Felicia said. And now he’s gone, and it’s too late.”
Dan and Liam exchanged another glance. She let it go. “Apparently, I witnessed something I’m not able to remember. Now that I’m back here, glimpses keep popping up, but I can’t make sense of them. My mom took another beating from the bastard she was sleeping with as a warning. The next time we’d both be dead, he said. My father, however, was A-okay as long as he continued to cooperate. It was the deal he struck with the man his wife was screwing while she was married to him. What the fuck.”
Crossing her arms, Paige stared out the tinted window to the parking lot. She almost wished the whiskey had been enough to make her sleep for days on end so she wouldn’t have to think about any of this. But sticking her head in the sand had been one of the strongest reasons Paige had accepted the falsehood fed to her by her mother. “Those photos in the attic? Mom had been sending them to Dad through Felicia for years. I don’t understand how my parents could let their lives get so out of control.”
With a deep sigh, she unfolded her arms and reached into her purse. “And this man who delighted in violence? It appears when he vanished from the area, my father was questioned about his disappearance, but someone at this table didn’t see fit to mention that to me.” She glared at Dan from behind the dark lenses. “My father was only cleared completely when Raleigh was arrested somewhere else on a warrant. Guess that prick did his time and got out, just in time to hassle me.”
“I’ll check into it,” Dan said, deadpan. Not a flicker of interest, confusion, or concern. Either he’d known, or he was trying hard to cover the fact he’d missed something that monumental. “I’ve been meaning to get into the archives.”
“Aren’t there computer records?”
“Records more than ten years old are incomplete.”
Paige frowned at him, not caring for his glib responses. “I can only assume since my mother and I didn’t come running back to Alcina Cove that Dad knew Raleigh wasn’t really gone.” She slid a photograph to the center of the table, refusing to look at her mother’s smiling face and the brutal, remarkably handsome younger man beside her. Despite the damage of time and whatever had altered his appearance, she had recognized Regan Raleigh as the same man who’d been stalking her as soon as she saw the eyes.
“Since I didn’t know the truth, I walked right back into danger. What’s his point in toying with me? Is he testing, in his own twisted way, if I remember him? I know who he is now though. I know what he did to my mother, to my family. I only wish I could remember what I had seen that caused him to threaten our lives. Because it had to have been bad, and I’d love to make him pay for all of it.”
Paige sucked in a breath, jerking upright. Liam lowered his arm across her back, pulling her close. She clung to his shirt with her fingers, inhaling the dulcifying scent of his laundry detergent.
“Regan Raleigh,” said Dan softly, lifting the photo between thumb and forefinger.
“Yes,” Paige said from beneath Liam’s sturdy arm, “Regan Raleigh. That’s what Felicia called him. He and my dad were involved in something together. That’s how Mom met him. I guess she fell for his pretty face.” Liam gave her a short squeeze, presumably to keep her from flying off on a tirade.
“You already spoke with her son. Billy Woodward? Or you were going to. There’s no association with this Raleigh guy. You can’t think there is. She was my mom’s best friend, which is why she knows all of this.”
“I’m not accusing her of anything. She may have knowledge that could be helpful, though. Knowledge she doesn’t realize is important.” Dan looked at Liam at that point. Not one of those fleeting looks, but eye to eye in a prolonged fashion. “That’s the connection,” he said.
Paige lifted her head to study Liam’s expression. “What’s he talking about?”
Liam’s gaze remained steady on Dan’s. “I’m not sure.”
Dan rubbed his eye, smoothing the arch of his brow with a brush of his fingertips. He returned his attention to Paige. “The connection to you. Why you come back to town after sixteen years and immediately become a stalking victim. That’s all I meant. But this is good. This is something to go on, and we have a photo now. Can I keep this? We can age the image.”
“Yes, keep it. I don’t want to ever see that photo again.”
Dan tucked the photo into his shirt pocket behind his badge. “Paige, it’ll be all right.”
“Really?” She pulled away from Liam’s protective embrace and gathered her purse from the seat. “I don’t think all the whiskey in the world would make me believe that.”
* * * *
Tiny bubbles popping in the water sounded like the whispers of fairies. Paige hadn’t taken a bubble bath in years, but it felt like the thing to do right now. The fragrance of lavender soothed her aching head, and the warmth relaxed her muscles. In the bedroom, Liam held a running conversation with someone on the phone regarding dinner reservations. He was going to take her to a restaurant he wanted to try somewhere near Bar Harbor. Odd moving on, “business as usual,” but perhaps he only wished to allay her fears in this fashion. She wouldn’t fight him on it. She figured he needed normalcy as much as she.
Liam knocked on the door, cracked it open. “You okay in there? You didn’t fall asleep, did you?”
Paige stirred, almost as if she had been dreaming. “I’m awake. I think I have about another ten minutes before the water gets too cold.”
He stuck his head inside. “May I come in?”
“Sure.”
Liam crossed the cramped space and sat on the mat beside the tub. He stretched his long legs out over the floor, crossing his ankles. His shoelaces tapped the tile. “How do you feel? Besides the hangover, I mean.”
“Betrayed,” she said without needing to think, and then added, “Angry, too, for a variety of reasons.”
“Not scared in all of that?”
“Odd thing about me, I don’t stay scared. I probably should, but dwelling on fear has never been part of my makeup. That’s probably not such a good way to be, considering the present situation.”
Be brave, Paige.
I am, Mom. You know I am.
Paige bowed her head until her chin touched a mound of bubbles. Tendrils that had escaped the clips trailed along her jaw and into the water. Liam pulled one away, tucking it behind her ear. Tepid bathwater dripped along her neck as he traced her cheekbone with a finger.
“Living in fear isn’t necessary as long as you remain cognizant of the danger and take necessary precautions.”
“You see how well I’ve done with that, Liam.”
He laughed and leaned over the tub’s curved edge. Cupping her head in his hand, he kissed her. “We’ll keep you safe from here on in, Stauffer and I.”
Her faith in Dan had been shaken, and Liam allying himself with the man, especially considering their antagonistic relationship, didn’t provide her the comfort Liam obviously thought it should.
“For two people who didn’t know one another before a few days ago, you’re awfully edgy in each other’s company.” Paige tipped her head back, hoping he would kiss her again. He did, taking a tad longer in the process.
“Look at the two of us after only a handful of days. Relationships can progress rather quickly.” He lowered his chin onto the arm he folded across the side of the tub. He dropped the other into the foam, curling his fingers around her wrist. Opening his mouth, he blew gently across the bubbles, causing them to skitter away from her breasts. Hard and glistening and very pink, her nipples rose above the surface of the water. Releasing her hand, he ran the pad of one finger across the tip of the nearest. Heat rushed through her body. “It’s not just sex between us, Paige, but sex can be a very powerful motivator. People will make the most asinine decisions based on its lure.”
Fluffing the bubbles back into place, he shook the clinging soap from his hand and stood. “You need to forgive her, Paige, somehow. You came back here seeking answers, and now you have them. Or some of them. I never got the impression you hated your father. I think you had forced yourself to a kind of ambivalence because it was the only way you could reconcile the father you had always known with the father you thought you had discovered.”
“And now I find my mother wasn’t at all what I thought, either.”
“She was human, like the rest of us. We all make mistakes. We all have our shortcomings. We all keep our secrets.”
He removed the fluffy bath sheet from the rack and opened it, holding it up. When he saw she had no plans to get out of the water, he sat on the closed toilet seat, the towel draped across his knees.
“Felicia said I shouldn’t blame my mother, that people make foolish choices. But it’s not like buying a pair of three hundred dollar shoes when you don’t have the money for groceries. This choice caused long-term consequences and a loss that can’t be rectified.”
Liam remained mute, watching her.
“I had every right to know my father.”
He picked up the empty packet of bubble bath with the Timeless Inn label on it and lobbed the object at her. She didn’t bother to try to catch the packet, and it landed with a plop to float atop the creamy foam.
“Paige, even if you had known him, there’s no guarantee you would have had a relationship with him. Families aren’t always tight-knit little microcosms of community. Sometimes they just don’t get along.”
Paige wondered if he spoke from experience. He hadn’t said much about his family, if anything at all. “I would have liked the opportunity to find out what our relationship might have been.” Paige flicked a bubble, and then another, trying to stem the anger that kept rising to the surface, the strongest emotion in a barrage of them.
Liam reached up to scratch the stubble along his jaw. The sun through the bathroom window illuminated the scar like a silver trail. “You want that chance now, in retrospect, but did you before? Maybe your mother hoped that one day you would. Maybe—and don’t get angry at me for saying this—maybe, as you suggested, that choice was yours to make, and you didn’t. I know your mother let you believe the worst, but you didn’t have to take it at face value.”
Paige moved her knee, causing the soapy water to rush toward her face in a small wave. Liam was a good man, and a smart one, but she really didn’t think she was ready to hear anything quite so sensible from him. She wanted to lash out, to condemn, indulge in a dose of self-pity along with the recognition of her responsibility.
He held the towel up again. Giving in, she climbed out and let him wrap the soft terry around her. He kissed the top of her head. “I know it’s hard, but you’ll get through it. You’re stronger than you realize.”
He left then, pulling the door shut behind him. Paige yanked the towel closer, hugging herself beneath its folds.
“And I think I love you, Liam Gray,” she whispered. “Will I still be strong then?”
Chapter 26
Paige spent the day semi-somnolent, waking on occasion to see the same story playing over and over again on low volume on the Weather Channel. A fierce storm was moving swiftly
up the coast, already in the Carolinas, threatening fierce weather in New England sometime in the next twelve hours or so. For now, though, the sun continued to shine brightly, forcing Paige to place the pillow across her head to block the light from her eyes. When Liam returned late in the afternoon, Paige was still lounging in bed. She answered the door with an apology.
“It’ll take me two minutes to get dressed. Or maybe it’ll take a couple minutes longer. You look nice. I guess this isn’t a totally casual dinner.”
She eyed him in his shirt and tie, the former a deep blue that brought out the shade of his eyes, the latter a variation of the same blue in a simple pattern with a turquoise pop. His dark hair had been trimmed but it was still long enough to curl over his collar. Paige stepped back to let him in. “Do you realize how good you look?”
“I did my best,” he said.
“I hope I have something suitable with me. I hadn’t planned on fine dining.” She went to the closet and yanked open the door to reveal the garments hanging in meager assortment inside. “Well, I brought one dress.” She whipped it out, holding the garment by the hanger across her body. In sea foam green, at least it wouldn’t clash with his attire.
Liam gave her a slow onceover, grinning. “Perfect.”
She had the feeling he would have said the same thing even if the dress were a pumpkin-orange sack. Hurrying to the bathroom to change and apply makeup, she called over her shoulder, “There’s a storm coming. Did you see that?”
“I did. Time to batten down the hatches. Or soon, anyway.”
Leaving the door ajar, Paige stood behind it to shed her clothes and slip into the dress. She put on some mascara, frowning at the bruises on her face. Any attempt at covering them would only make them look worse. If Liam didn’t care, neither would she. She slipped a pair of earrings into her ears for good measure before subduing her hair. When she returned to the bedroom, she paused in her hunt for proper going-out shoes to frown at Liam, who was staring out the window and wearing the oddest expression.