by Vella Munn
Mara hadn’t told him about his memory making the battle with her attacker possible. She did now, revealing everything except the words that her attacker’s spirit presence had used to make the test so hard. “I used your strength,” she admitted. “If you’re there when he comes, I might never know whether it’s me or you standing up to him.”
“No one is asking you to be Superwoman.”
“I know that. The police are going to be there.” To Mara, the police were simply tools, the physical force capable of putting her attacker behind bars. “I don’t know if I can explain it.” She was back to whispering. “I’ve been trying to deal with this for so long. Sometimes I feel like a Ping-Pong ball. My moods are driving me crazy. When we’re together, I feel as if nothing can touch me. That isn’t the way I want it. I want… There have to be certain things inside me.”
Reed ran his hands down his thighs, feeling his physical strength. What he felt inside was far different. Wondering if he’d lost Mara had nearly undone him. Even making love and sitting beside her in the Corvette hadn’t eased the knot that had become part of him. He accepted Mara for what she was, a fallible and wonderful human being. He wished she could accept herself.
“I don’t know what to do with my emotions,” she said. “You have no idea what it feels like to be paralyzed.”
Didn’t he? “Do you feel paralyzed now?”
Mara swept her arm to take in her surroundings. “I’m sitting in a police station. It’s hard not to feel safe, to tell myself it’s all been a nightmare. But it was real. It still is. That isn’t going to change until he’s behind bars.”
Real. For a moment Reed was once again a child, face-to-face with a world he couldn’t control or understand. His universe consisted of an absent parent and another whose needs were beyond his comprehension.
But he wasn’t a child. Life was what it was. One took reality and carved out a life. Sometimes that life was full. Sometimes it wasn’t. And sometimes someone else entered that private world and made it rich. Mara had done that for him. In turn, in gratitude, he wanted to help her put aside her own demons.
But she was the only one who could do that. “Mara? I understand what you’re saying. You want to face him, and what you’ve been going through. But you’re dealing with a madman. Mara? I need to be there with you. Do you understand that? I’d lose my mind worrying about you.”
Mara blinked. “You— Oh, Reed. I’m sorry. I don’t want to do that to you. I want you there. Only, please, don’t play rescuer. Don’t try to insulate me.”
Because her attacker obviously watched the mobile home from a distance, Reed and two policemen came in early in the day, crouched in the back of Clint’s car the way they had for the past two days, since the decision had been made to try to draw the rapist to Mara. Now it was dark, and the three men were sitting in Mara’s living room, waiting for the phone to ring. Mara had run out of conversation last night while the phone remained silent. Tonight she tried to read the newspaper. The police officers watched TV. Reed sat. He hadn’t said more than a half-dozen words since the evening began.
Clint had called a half hour before, causing a flurry of activity until Mara recognized his voice. Clint passed on a message from his parents. They were praying for her. If there was anything they could do, all she had to do was ask. “Where are you?” she’d asked.
“We just left the realtor. My folks put down earnest money on a place about a mile from here.”
“Your dad? How is he feeling?”
“Tired. But I’ve got him resting. Mom and I are making chili. We’ll save you and Reed some. I’ll be here. Call me.”
“I will,” Mara whispered and hung up. For a moment she struggled to bring back those innocent days when she and Clint had had nothing to talk about except their students’ diverse personalities. But that was the past.
“Do you like chili?” she asked.
Reed didn’t say anything, but Detective Kline pointed out that his wife was one of the world’s great chili cooks. Her success had something to do with just enough beer for the liquid and some other ingredients he wasn’t too sure about. Chili, Kline maintained, was always better the second time around.
Then the phone rang again. Pretending a casualness she didn’t feel, Mara picked up the receiver. For a few seconds she didn’t think anyone was on the other end of the line. Then: “Did you miss me? I’ve been gone. A little business I had to attend to, but I’m back. Back and thinking about you. What happened to your boyfriend? The one with the hot car? He leave you?”
Mara jerked her head at the men. The voice, that painfully rasping voice prodded at her, but she hardened herself against its impact. She would play her role, nothing more. “Stop calling me,” she began. “Please stop calling me.”
“I can’t do that, Mara. I keep thinking about you. About the unfinished business we have.”
“No!” Her voice rose. Kline nodded encouragement. Reed stared. “Please leave me alone. I just want you to leave me alone.”
“What’s the trouble, Mara? I thought you were looking forward to this. That’s what you said. Remember.”
“No! I didn’t mean it. I thought— What do you want out of me?”
“Everything. You figure out what that means.”
Mara moaned. She let the sound waver, weak and airy. She closed her eyes, shutting out Reed’s comforting image. Nothing existed except the monster on the other end of the line. The only thing she wanted in life was to reach out and pull him into the net. But if she wasn’t careful, if she didn’t say the right words, the net would tear and he’d escape.
If he did, she’d spend her life knowing that.
He laughed. It sounded as if laughing hurt him. “What happened, party girl? You sounded pretty sure of yourself the other day.”
Party girl. “I keep having nightmares. I heard you on my answering machine. Just go away.”
“I can’t do that. We have things left to share, like strawberry ice cream.”
There was nothing of the actress in Mara now. “You…”
“Couldn’t you figure it out?” he asked. He sounded so pleased with himself. “Did you get your purse back? That was a nice touch, if I do say so myself. The cone I left on the Corvette. Masterful. I was just going to watch you that day, but then you took off, and I followed. I waited until you and that kid left the Corvette in the parking lot and then— Masterful.”
“You’re sick.”
“I had another word in mind.”
Mara wasn’t sure what she said after that. Her abductor made a few suggestions that made her want to gag. It took every ounce of strength in her not to slam down the receiver until she believed she’d gotten across the message that she lived in terror of him. Her abductor laughed and threatened by turn. His moods made her skin crawl, and yet part of her felt suspended over what was being said, listening, assessing. She hadn’t been losing her mind after all. Her purse and the ice-cream cone had been threats, not coincidences.
“I’m coming for you, party girl. Maybe tonight. Maybe in five years. You’ll never know. Where’s that mutt of yours? Afraid he isn’t safe outside? You know, maybe you’re right.”
“Don’t do this to me,” Mara whimpered. “Please.” She hung up, wondering how much of her final words were staged and how much had been wrung out of some gut-honest core of her being.
“Are you all right?”
Mara didn’t open her eyes until Reed pulled her fingers off the receiver. She blinked, waiting for him to come into focus. Where had he come from? The police. Had they been there the whole time? “I think so. He’s sick. Sick and dangerous.”
“He loves what he’s doing to you.”
Mara had to agree. She calmed a little. “He sounded so sure of himself.”
“So in control?”
“So in control.” Reed stood nearby. Every fiber in her ached with the desire to be in his arms. To let him tell her she was safe. But she’d agreed to set herself up as bait, in part
because she needed to learn certain things about herself. That job hadn’t been completed. “I just hope he wants more. He said I’ll never know when he’ll show. It might be years.”
“He’s aggressive,” Detective Kline reminded Mara. “He believes he holds the upper hand, that he can do whatever he wants with you. That gives him an incredible sense of power. He doesn’t impress me as a man with much control. If we’re right, he’s going to want more than what he can get over the phone. Soon.”
“Hopefully tonight.”
“Tonight?” Mara asked.
“Call it a hunch,” the detective explained. “My hunches are wrong as much as they’re right, but the last thing I’m going to do is leave you alone now. Mara, I don’t want you touching your gun. Leave the use of a weapon up to us. I’m going to have enough to think about without worrying you might hit the wrong person.”
Mara nodded.
Reed faced the detective. “Until he’s caught, she isn’t going to be safe,” he said sharply. “This damn plan of yours is jeopardizing her life.”
“It isn’t his plan,” Mara reminded Reed. “I agreed to it.”
“Yeah. I know.”
There’d been times when Mara had felt as if she could reach out and touch the energy in Reed. Tonight he was quiet, lost in moods she couldn’t fathom.
She didn’t believe concern for her safety, at least tonight, was the reason. With three trained men in the house, certainly she wasn’t in any real danger. What then had stripped him of the electricity that was so much a part of him?
The TV was turned off, the house silent. Fifteen minutes passed. Mara’s nerves felt stretched and frayed. She could only wait. For what and for how long she didn’t know.
Lobo had been curled at her feet. Twenty minutes after the call, he rose and padded to the door. He cocked his head, his ears pricked. His growl was more feeling than sound. Wordlessly Reed and the other men got to their feet.
The Doberman’s growl grew. Mara dropped to her knees and clamped her hand over his muzzle until he quieted. His body remained ripcord taut.
A minute later the men had slipped out a window at the rear of the house, leaving Mara alone.
Lobo continued to stand by the front door, a silent warning vibrating through him. Mara stayed where she was. She felt nothing.
There was a sound; she was sure of it. Lobo didn’t bark, but the hairs stiffened on his back. The muffled sound was repeated. Lobo rose on his hind legs, and before she could stop him, began clawing at the window near the front door.
Something—Mara had no idea what the force was—propelled her to her feet. She stood beside Lobo, her heart thudding. This was it. She knew it. Weeks of waiting, of only half-living were drawing to an end. He had come for her. If only she had her gun in her hand. But the detective was right. She’d never forgive herself if she shot a policeman, or Reed.
With a recklessness she would never try to explain, to herself or anyone else, Mara pulled back the curtain—and looked into the face of her nightmare.
He needed a shave. He’d dressed in dark clothes. And he carried a handgun. The weapon was aimed at Lobo.
In the split second before the gun exploded, Mara smashed into her dog, knocking both of them off their feet. She landed on top of Lobo as a bullet shattered the window.
Mara didn’t wait to see if Reed and the police were there. That monster had tried to kill Lobo! He would have done the same to her with as little remorse!
The dead bolt gave way under her fingers. With no thought to her safety, with no thought beyond hot fury, Mara stepped into the night. Five feet away stood the man who’d turned her life into hell.
He still held the gun, but it wasn’t aimed at her. Instead it dangled from his fingers. Victory was plastered on his features. “Mara Curtis. You’ve been waiting for me.”
“Damn you. Damn you!” Weeks of fear and hatred and self-doubt spurred her on. Mara cared nothing for the pistol. He wouldn’t kill her, not yet. Not until he was done with her. Good. Mara had unfinished business of her own. Nothing mattered except sinking her nails in that mocking face and inflicting pain. What he’d done to her, and to other women was over. As long as she lived, he’d never do that again. “Damn you to hell!”
Her attacker opened his mouth. An oath cut the night, almost burying Mara’s words. He took a step toward her.
A moment later he lay sprawled on his belly with his face in the grass. Reed straddled his body.
“What did you do that for?” Reed demanded once the rapist was in the house, handcuffed. “My God, he could have killed you.”
Mara didn’t look at her attacker. She’d seen the hatred in his eyes as Reed wrenched the gun from him. She had no doubt that he would kill her if he could. It didn’t matter; the man would never have the opportunity.
“He wanted to kill Lobo” was all she said.
“Lobo? We were there. You knew the plan. Your job was to draw him to you, nothing else.”
Mara couldn’t remember making the decision to face the man. Everything happened so fast. A face in the window. Her dog’s life in danger. A gun that could, in a heartbeat, be turned on her.
And anger. Anger far stronger than any fear she’d ever experienced. “I had to. I thought about the women he raped, that girl whose life he could have destroyed. Everything he put me through.”
“He could have killed you.”
Mara shook her head. She waited for aftershock to set in. So far it hadn’t come. “He didn’t want me dead. Not yet anyway,” she told Reed in a tone she could take pride in. “There wouldn’t be any game. He needed to be the dominant one.”
“You’re crazy.” Detective Kline had called for a patrol car and was off the phone. Reed didn’t give a damn what the other men heard. For as long as he lived, he would never forget the sight of the woman he loved facing down an armed man.
He hoped he’d never experience fear like that again.
“No, Reed,” she said. “I’m not crazy. Maybe I did everything the wrong way. But I faced him. I stepped out into the night and faced him. Do you have any idea how incredibly good that makes me feel?”
She smiled. Reed hadn’t expected that.
But, maybe he had. Maybe her confident smile was what both of them needed.
“And you’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?” His heart was still beating out of control, and he seemed to have forgotten how to breathe without having to think about it, but those reactions would wear themselves out. The woman who’d shown him he was capable of giving and receiving love was safe. That was all that mattered.
“Yes. I am.” Mara took his hands, her steady, small, warm ones wrapped around bone and muscle without enough warmth in them. “I’m sorry,” she told him honestly. “I know what it feels like to have things you don’t have control over happen. But if I had it to do over…” She glanced at the rapist. Then, feeling the finality of the act, she dismissed him. “I wouldn’t change anything.
“I did it,” she continued with what she’d learned about herself directing the words. “I saw him, and everything sick and demeaning he represented, and instinct took over. I made it past my fear because this other emotion got in the way. I acted. Finally I did something.”
Reed pulled his hands out of Mara’s and touched the vein pulsing at the side of her throat. He felt her warmth. He sensed the life in her. She’d scared the hell out of him, but he would go through that again a hundred times if it meant having her smiling up at him with her pulse calm and easy.
He wanted to promise her a lifetime of smiles. He wanted to give her his strength and love and believe that would be enough.
But his strength couldn’t be hers. Just as hers couldn’t become his.
They might love. They did love. That didn’t mean either of them could complete the other. And until Mara found all of herself, or failed, the only thing he could do was love her. And wait.
Or did he? Tonight she ran on pure energy. If he tapped that force and guided i
t in the right direction, she might find that vital and necessary acceptance of herself. “We need to talk,” he whispered.
“About…”
“About what happens now.”
Reed wasn’t talking about making sure the man sitting in her living room paid for what he’d done to her and other women. He wasn’t talking about the trial he’d be testifying in. “What does happen now?” Mara asked.
Ignoring the police, Reed led Mara into her bedroom and closed the door. “You said something the other day,” he began. “About my not being there when you needed me.”
“I’m sorry.” Mara touched her fingers to Reed’s waist and drew closer. His breathing was back to normal. The depth and dark was still in his eyes. And, she knew, in hers as well.
It would remain like that until she told him about forced words and self-disgust. She’d done an incredibly brave and insane thing tonight. The question was, could she draw on that now? Would it give her the courage to do something far more difficult? “I was hurting when I said that,” Mara whispered. “It didn’t make sense. It was crazy. But I wanted to hurt you, too. I’m sorry, so sorry.”
Reed shook his head. Just the faintest hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t apologize. I needed to hear it.”
“Oh, Reed.”
His smile took on more definition. “I learned something when you said that. Maybe I already knew it and just hadn’t faced it. I don’t want to be away from you ever again. Ever.” He touched his lips to the tip of her nose. “To not know what you’re doing—to not be able to talk, to touch. I want to make love whenever we want and need.”
“Reed…”
“To reach for the woman I love and know she’s there.”
Mara waited. His smile was an incredible thing. She lost herself in it.
“I’ve been offered a job. Doing investigations for the San Diego police.”
“Have you?” Her phone rang. She ignored it. A moment later she heard Detective Kline speaking in the other room. “You’d stay here? You’d quit the bureau?”