Landing a rather devastating blow to his chest, she heard the rush of air leave him and knew she had knocked his wind free. In a moment of hubris, she straitened out of fight stance to look down at his crumpled and battered body. It was a mistake. Without looking up at her, he growled loudly and swung a massive fist at her. She tried to move out of its path but failed as it landed, hard, along the right side of her small face. The pain was blinding, dark spots dancing in front of her eyes. She stumbled backward before losing her balance and crashing to the ground. Her world was spinning, darkness swirling around her vision and a horrid ringing in her ears drowned out the room. It wasn’t until she felt the weight of his body flatten over her that true panic settled into her core. In spite of her lost senses, she struggled to free herself from his girth, but it was no use. He pinned her limbs under his massive form and stared down at her in triumph. When his right arm lifted to the small of his back, she tried valiantly to free herself, but was rewarded with the impact of his forehead along the bridge of her nose. White hot pain flashed over her face as the warm, wet feeling of blood washed over her upper lip. She moaned as her head lolled back heavily against the floor, a strange combination of excruciating pain and total numbness coming in waves to her crushed figure.
“There, there now, little Belle, it will all be over soon.” His dark, harsh, voice was in her ear as he produced another blade from his back. She hadn’t looked closely enough at him as she chased him. She hadn’t seen the sheath tucked into his pants. So this is how it ends for me? She thought, coldly as he flipped her limp frame over, his weight, sickeningly familiar, settling over her. She closed her eyes and prayed that it would end quickly, that at least now she would finally be rid of him. Be free of the nightmares she had carried with her since that day so many years ago when she had been inducted into his collection. Elizabeth gritted her teeth as his weight bared down on her. She wanted to fight back, wanted to live, but every effort proved futile. She was trapped, utterly helpless, under his strength. She despised the sensation, but her faculties were still too muddled. Resolution flooded over her as she felt him stretch, raising his hand. She squeezed her eyes tight and waited for the thrust, the flash of pain as the blade made its way into her flesh. His hips tensed, but before his arm could drive the knife into her, a shot rang out in the cavernous, empty room.
Chapter 49
Matt watched as Liz disappeared around the corner after Moreano. Alex writhed in his arms, screaming and crying beneath the duct tape covering her mouth. He wanted to run after Elizabeth, but the woman in his arms, and the man lying bleeding on the floor, demanded his attention first. A pang of fear hit him before he remembered just who she was. She was his warrior, his fighter. She was more than a match for Moreano. Righting himself, he helped Alex into a seated position as Jack rushed into the grand hall from the entry. As Matt removed the tape over her mouth, Arrons slid to his knees next to the lifeless body of George.
“You have to help her! Go! Before he hurts her!” Matt had barely freed the tape before Alex had started screaming. “Go now!” She was frantic, clawing with bound hands at the side of Matt’s coat. He blinked down at her.
“Elizabeth is strong and well trained. I trust she can handle him.” Alex shook her head fiercely.
“I know she can fight, but he still has a knife!” Matt’s eyes went wide. He looked to his side where the knife from Moreano’s hand had slid to rest. “Yes, it’s there, but he has another. At least one more. He tucked it into his back when he was getting out of the truck, I saw it!” The surety of her fear pierced into Matt’s soul. Even if Moreano was armed, he was no match for Elizabeth…at least that’s what he hoped. Doubt started to well up in his throat. Looking over at Jack for help, Matt found the man trying to cradled a groaning George’s head.
“Okay, you help them, I’ll go after her.” Matt jumped to his feet. Before following after them, he turned and scooped his police issue off the marble floor.
As he turned and ran down the hall, he heard Alex’s voice call after him, “Don’t let that psycho hurt her!”
I won’t. I can’t, thundered in his head as he barreled down the hall. A set of large carved wooden doors stood kicked open to his left. He ducked through them and followed the path of disturbed furniture and overturned decor to another set of bashed through doors. The sounds of fighting echoed out to him. He was close. Bolting through another set of doors he spied the only other way out of the parlor he was now in. Drawing closer he could hear voices. No, not voices, voice. A voice. A man’s voice. Moreano was talking, gloating. The tone was unmistakable. Panic gripped his heart and stole his breath. There was only one reason for Moreano to have triumph in his voice. Bursting through the last set of doors Matt came face to face with what he had been so sure would never happen.
Elizabeth lay face down on the cold floor, her arms and legs pinned beneath the enormity of Moreano’s bulk. His arms were raised over his head, the glint of the long blade in his hand flashing as he prepared to drive it deep into her back. Matt’s world went still. Time stopped. “NO!” He felt the word fly from his lips as the gun in his hand unleashed a round. He watched as the bullet left the chamber, traveling across the expanse and slamming into the large man’s side, just under his raised arm. The material of his shirt shredded and the rippled shock wave coursed over his chest. His whole body jerked with the impact, sending him tumbling to the side, and then the world returned to normal. Matt blinked for a split second before focusing Elizabeth again.
Moreano’s weight had slumped lifeless off to the floor, and his cry still thundered in the emptiness. Matt flew forward, seeing Elizabeth pinned face down had sent his heart into his throat. Suddenly freed, she scrambled to get loose, kicking at Moreano’s remaining weight on her legs. Matt reached for her, but when his hands landed on her shoulder, she turned on him, lashing out violently. Her eyes were wide and frantic and he could see the fear coursing through her. Realizing that she was lost, he tried as best he could to help her while dodging the random, weak punches she hurled into the air.
“Liz! Liz, it’s me!” He tried to grab her under the arms as she continued to swing wildly. He needed to get her out of there. Moreano lay bleeding on the floor beside her, motionless. The shot had hit him broadside, tearing through his flesh, but Matt couldn’t be sure that he was dead. Another shot would do it, but to fire at a man lying unarmed in a pool of his own blood, no matter that the man was a serial killer, would be murder. A crime Matt simply could not bring himself to commit. Reasoning that Moreano was down for the count, his only concern became Elizabeth. Managing to get a grip on her, despite her failing, he hauled her away from the still mountain that was once his boss. She railed against him, still trapped in the dark of hopelessness. “Liz!” He called her name again and again as he did his best to pull her writhing body against his. Holding her close he began to whisper into her ear. Slowly she began to calm. Finally, she stilled, turning her face up to his. A faint blueish hue had begun to settle under her left eye and the bleeding from her nose was slowing. Her eyes were still wide and panicked, but she seemed to know him now.
“M..Matt?” He smiled down at her as she went completely limp in his arms. Her hands clung to his shoulders as her body began to shiver. Emotion flooded over her as he swept her small body into his arms and turned to leave.
“Matt….Matt…” She couldn’t manage any more than his name. To have come so close to death, to have seen it’s approach and been helpless against it only to have been pulled free by the man she loved left her weak and trembling. Part of her wanted to leap from his arms, turn on the mound behind them and wail until what remained was unrecognizable, but she couldn’t. Doing that would remove her from the warm strength of Matt’s arms which felt more like home in that moment than anything in her life ever had. She buried her face into his shoulder, breathing his earthy smell in deep, filling the emptiness in her chest with him. “Matt,” was all she wanted to say. She nuzzled the taunt muscles along h
is neck and closed her eyes, mesmerized by the steady rhythm of his steps as he carried her out of the training room and into the music room.
They were almost to the doors when a visceral gnarling roar tore through the silence. Matt turned on his heels as Elizabeth’s head snapped up from where it rested against his neck. Moreano, badly wounded and hobbling, was charging for them, the knife poised over his head. Elizabeth could feel the handle of Matt’s gun pinned beneath her thigh and she realized the horrific truth—even if he dropped her, there was no way for him to draw on Moreano fast enough. Thinking only of him, she curled her body around his chest, trying to shield him from the blade plunging toward them with scalpel precision and desperate strength. She felt Matt tense, trying to shove her body free, push her aside so that she would be safe from the blow, but she simply wrapped tighter. Clinching her eyes, she prepared for the pain, but this time was different. She wanted it this time. She would be saving him, and that was worth it to her.
Matt’s whole body lurched to the side as two shots rang out. Elizabeth’s eyes flew open just in time to catch a glimpse of Arrons, crouching in the doorway behind them, his gun poised before him. Turning she watched in a mixture of horror and joy as Moreano’s chest soaked over with crimson, red blood pouring from the two new holes in his center mass. He did not cry out this time, but slumped lifeless to the floor, his eyes open wide, but unseeing. The knife that had been in his hand clattered to the floor and slid away from him. Matt slammed into the wall, still lurching away from the path of the knife that no longer moved. His grip around her tightened, pulling her even closer and thrusting his face into her hair. She curled around him, “Matt…”
He panted into her neck, “Mara…” She could hear the stomp of boots, the rush of bodies moving past her, around her, but nothing mattered now. It was over. He was dead. After nearly five minutes clinging tightly to Matt, a voice, soft and fragile, behind her forced her to lift her head. Alex stood wrapped in a blanket in the doorway, her slender neck streaked with the river of now dried blood. Matt had also heard the noise and turned too. He did not lower her to the ground immediately, but straightened and carried her over to her friend before setting her down. His arms never left her however, slipping round her waist and pulling her against his chest as he rested his chin on her head. Elizabeth embraced Alex, lightly, her body aching all over form the blows she had given, and taken.
“Liz, George…he…they couldn’t…he’s gone.” The sorrow in Alex’s voice was palpable and they cried together. Matt’s arms began to slip away and Elizabeth reeled around in a panic.
“It’s okay, I’m just going to go make sure the coroner takes good care of him. When you and Alex are ready, we will get out of here.” She smiled at him before he slipped into the sea of uniforms and rubber gloved investigators that had magically appeared all around them. Jack found her still clinging to Alex and lead the two shaken young women from the house. She hated the idea of having to call Mark and tell him that not only was his home violated, but that George, their trusted butler, and friend, was gone. At least it’s over now, she sighed inwardly at the very thought, freedom. As she stepped out into the cold night air, brightened by the headlights and roof lights of an endless stream of cop cars filling the driveway, she caught sight of Matt. He was talking to the coroner, who was in the process of removing a gurney from the rear of his van. In spite of everything, she felt the smile spread across her lips. Her life could begin now, and he was going to be with her. Warmth spread over her as she drew nearer. When Alex stopped short, Liz turned in a haze to discover why. Alex wore the most knowing smile as she stared at her long-time friend.
“Go to him. I’ll be fine.” Elizabeth leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before releasing her arms. Moving slowly at first she took a few steps toward him. When their eyes met her slow steps became quick ones and she closed the gap between them at a run. Flinging her arms around his neck, she pressed her lips to his. He did not hesitate. Wrapping her tightly to him, he kissed her back, returning her joy with his own.
“Are you ready to go home?” He whispered into her mouth when they finally came up for air.
“Yes,” was all she could manage before he took her mouth again. She could feel the eyes moving over them, the horrified and confused looks from the people flooding into the scene of a horrific murder and hostage stand-off, that resulted in the death of the suspect. Such a strange place to kiss. She could almost hear it on their gasps, but she didn’t care, not anymore.
Epilogue
Matt sat nervously on the edge of the soft, rich, suede sofa in their living room. Bucky lay contentedly across his lap as the last moments of a sitcom streamed across the screen before him. He wasn’t really watching, though. He was too nervous to pay attention. Looking away from the droning box, his eyes drifted over the pictures, framed in wonderful rich woods and glass, that now adorned every inch of usable space. Elizabeth’s beautiful smile and magical eyes winked at him from every corner and he loved it. She had done an amazing job. After all the press had died down and their world returned to normal, she had followed through on her promise to redress their apartment, and it was fantastic. He wouldn’t have cared if she had painted the whole thing pink and surrounded him with lace, to be honest, but what she had done was impressive and fit them to a tee. Warm leather furniture, with soft colorful cushions, filled the once empty, cold space, and memories of their last four months together covered the walls. Her movies had joined his and the deep blue wall paint and automated curtains and blinds perfectly framed the city scape beyond his windows. As he sat petting the snoring beast in his lap, the sound of her humming as she dressed wafted out of the bedroom and caused his gut to clench. No matter how much of her he took, it was never enough. If she would only let him, he would never venture beyond their bed.
The wicked thought gave way to the memory of where they were headed and he swallowed hard. Without realizing it, he patted the side of his jacket, checking, once again, to make sure that the small velvet box was still nestled securely in his inside breast pocket. A sly smile curved over him as he shifted nervously. They were expected at the Yacht Club of Manhattan in a little under an hour for the dinner he had once promised her Uncle Mark.
He and Aggie had returned from France only days after the incident to attend to George’s arrangements. After all, they were really the only family the poor man had. After saying their goodbyes, they had set about the unhappy task of interviewing replacements and found that returning to their winter retreat was no longer a viable option. Mark had tried many times over the last four months to get the little dinner arranged, but Matt and Elizabeth had managed to avoid the encounter, until now.
They were now extremely busy. After the scene at the Targstead estate unfolded, news programs from all over the nation had grabbed hold of the “dating detectives” with both hands, making it impossible for them to hide their involvement from anyone. At first they were afraid the commissioner would split them up, but the public rallied in support of their partnership and they were allowed to continue on. In the last few months they had solved some of New York’s most high profile crimes and had become the envy of their entire department. Despite everything that they saw day in and day out, tonight would test his patients, and his nerve. This would be the first time that his mother and father would meet Elizabeth, but that did not worry him. In the months since Moreano’s death she had become happier, warmer, than he had ever seen her and it only made his love more desperate. There was simply no resisting Liz, not anymore.
“I’m ready. Shall we?” He stood to meet her and his heart stopped. She was always beautiful, but tonight seemed more intense. Perhaps it was her nervous smile that had him struggling for breath. Or perhaps it was the ring burning a hole in his chest that made looking at her, in that soft lavender cocktail dress that he loved so much, almost painful. He moved across the apartment to her with jerky steps, involuntarily patting the chest of his coat again, just to be sure.
Elizabeth grinned at him as he slid around her and helped her on with her coat. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and followed him to the door, calling out to Bucky to be a good boy while they were out, the whole time musing over the discrete pat Matt had laid on his breast pocket. It was the twelfth time she had seen him do that very thing in the last two days, the sixth this evening, and she was almost sure she had worked out what it meant. Her pulse raced with the idea of it, the thrill of anticipation, and the struggle over just how to react when it happened. She wondered if she should act utterly shocked, pretend to be speechless, or if she should play it coy and give him a sly seductive answer whispered in his ear. That would certainly send him reeling and she did so enjoy unnerving him. She found the shocked arousal that filled his eyes when she did things like that thoroughly intoxicating. Ultimately, it didn’t really matter how she answered, just that he asked.
His steps were nervous as he lead her down the hallway, and as they waited on the elevator, she curled around his arm, trying not to giggle as he, once again, reached for the hidden object in his coat. When the doors opened on the empty little room, she pulled him fiercely into the small space and enveloped him in that wicked little frame of hers, purring against him as the doors slid closed. “Liz, settle down. We have to meet my parents in a few minutes and I don’t want to spend the evening having to constantly…shift myself.” He was teasing her and she knew it.
“I make no promises of the kind. I will do what I want, when I want and you will sit back and enjoy it.” His grin turned mischievous as he reached out and hit the button for the lobby.
Little Belle Gone Page 30