Divorced, Desperate and Daring (Divorced and Desperate Book 6)

by Christie Craig

  He called Sheri’s mom, and she didn’t answer. He shot her a picture of the sketch with a note . . . “This guy was at the ceremony last night. Who is he?”

  Mrs. Thompson wasn’t answering either.

  “Call Chloe and tell her to send me Sheri’s mom’s address!” Danny demanded. Unwilling to just stand around and do nothing, he started out.

  “Where are you going?” Cary asked.

  “To Sheri’s mom’s! Get me that address!”

  He got to his car, and his phone dinged with a text. It was from Chloe.

  He read the address, plugged it into his GPS and took off.

  It took ten minutes to get there, each one passing with a painful slowness.

  He saw her house and then he saw her car pulling into the driveway.

  He parked, grabbed a copy of the sketch and got out.

  “Mrs. Thompson?” he called out.

  She turned around, surprise in her eyes. “Danny, I’m shocked to see you.”

  “I know,” Danny said. “And Mrs. Thompson, I don’t have time to explain anything, but I need you to tell me who this is.”

  He showed her the sketch.

  She took it, her brow creased. Then she looked up at Danny. “What’s going on?”

  “I told you I don’t have time to explain. This man was at the church last night. Who is he?”

  She looked back at the sketch. “He was there? I didn’t know he came.”

  “Who is he?” Danny asked.

  “He’s Bradley. Bradley Dessen. He’s Sheri’s half-brother.”

  Damn it! Danny should’ve put that together. “Do you know where he lives?” Then a more important question filled his mind. “Do you know where Sheri is?”

  Mrs. Thompson frowned. “I . . . she . . . Is something wrong?”

  “Yes, something is wrong. Where is Sheri?”

  She frowned. “Well I don’t know if I . . .”

  “Tell me!”

  “She’s at the cemetery,” she said, taken aback by Danny’s abruptness. He’d apologize later. “She went to see her father’s grave.”

  “What cemetery?” he asked.

  “Hedge Stone. It’s right off Stratton Street and Fifth.” She grabbed Danny’s arm. “What is going on, young man?”

  “I’ll explain later.” Danny offered her and ran back to his car. As Danny left, he saw Mrs. Thompson run to her car. But he didn’t have time to argue.

  • • •

  His handwriting was so familiar. He’d always carried a notepad with him and would jot down thoughts about possible sermons. Those notes, inspirational sayings and thoughts, were always left around the house or in the car.

  She started reading.

  Happy birthday, Baby Girl,

  You are twenty-nine today. If you are anything like your mom, and I know you are, you are probably worried that you’re getting old, but oh, my, it’s still so young.

  As I sit to write this letter to you, I’m trying to think of something wise, something important to tell you. But all I can think about is . . . you. How God blessed your mother and me with such a beautiful girl.

  I’ve watched you grow up, and I have to tell you, you are the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. You have a gentle spirit and such a caring nature. I see it in everything you do. Even in how you love that big beast of a dog.

  Sheri put her hand over her mouth and cried. She had to wipe her eyes before she could keep on reading.

  I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Sheri. I know you hold me responsible, and you should. I slipped up a lot. I know I said I’m sorry more than once, but sometimes it needs to be said a lot. My mistakes hurt you and your mom, and I would give anything if I could erase them.

  I didn’t deserve your mother, Sheri. She’s a special lady. I know you will take care of her. You did it when I couldn’t. I’m sorry for that most of all. You have no idea how difficult it is to think that I will be remembered by my mistakes. I want you to remember how much I loved you. How much I loved your mother.

  I want you to remember the best of me.

  Now back to that piece of wisdom I wanted to leave with you. I can only think of one thing. Life is short, Baby Girl. Don’t let one day go by without living it to the fullest. Chase your dreams, but remember the most important thing in life isn’t what you do, but who you love and who loves you.

  Love you and happy birthday, Baby Girl. May the angels watch over you.

  Dad

  Sheri hugged her legs, rested her face on her knees and let the tears flow.

  She sat there, feeling the fog surround her. But on the inside, she felt the sunshine. Forgiveness was a wonderful thing.

  Lifting her head, she inhaled. And right then she heard the sound of footsteps behind her.

  “He wasn’t worth crying for,” the voice said.

  “What?” She got to her feet and turned around. The man facing her, standing a little too close, looked slightly familiar, but not really.

  She wiped the tears from her face. “Who are . . . ?”

  Suddenly she knew. He was Bradley.

  “He wasn’t perfect,” Sheri said. “But he tried. I know he tried to meet you before . . . before he died. And my mother said he sent your mom money.”

  “As if that would make it right?” He shifted, and Sheri saw what he held. A knife. A big, very sharp knife.

  Her sore heart thumped against her ribs, and she heard it in her ears. “What are you doing here?” And right then she knew—Bradley was the one who wanted her dead.

  Fear filled her chest and a scream rose up into her throat, but she fought it. Life is short, she recalled just reading, but she refused to let it be this short.

  “I think I should go,” she said.

  She started to walk away.

  “Not so fast.” He caught her. She saw him tighten his grip on the knife.

  He started pulling her. She didn’t know whether to try to fight him or try to reason with him. Oh, why hadn’t she taken kickboxing lessons with her mom?

  Damn it, she’d always been a better reasoner than she was a physical fighter.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Sheri said. “I understand you’re angry.”

  “I’m past angry,” he said. “I was angry when I was ten and didn’t have a father.”

  She felt her chest constrict. She kept walking, tripping every few steps, because her gaze stayed on the knife in his hand. “It was wrong. But this isn’t going to fix anything.”

  “No, but it’ll help.”

  “How will . . .” she couldn’t say kill . . . “hurting me help?”

  His green eyes grew wide, and she saw something in the white of his eyes that said the man wasn’t okay. That this man couldn’t be reasoned with.

  Killing her wasn’t going to be a hardship. He might even enjoy it.

  Her heart clutched. She had to do something. She had to do it now.

  She. Was. Not. Going. To. Die!

  “He left me a measly twenty-five thousand. According to my lawyer, he’s worth close to a million. Oh, but he did tell me that when your poor mama dies, he’s gonna leave another meager handout. But the majority will go to you. But if you’re not here . . .”

  “Look who joined us?” she said and glanced behind him.

  When he glanced back, she ripped her arm from his grip and started running. She screamed, the sound seemed lost in the fog.

  She heard his footfalls running behind her. She envisioned a knife cutting into her back. Air locked in her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. But she didn’t stop because then he’d kill her and she’d never breathe again.

  Her foot hit something, and she tripped. Rolling over, she gasped when she saw him standing over her.

  “You even look like him. Get up!” he growled.

  “I’m getting up,” she said. But she’d be damned if she gave up.

  Moving to do as ordered, she saw the large angel statue beside him. Then, right by her hand, she spotted the dismembered arm of the
angel. May the angels watch over you.

  “I’m getting up,” she repeated, and she did. But she brought the arm with her.

  With all her might, with every dream she longed to live, with every person she longed to love, she swung it. She heard the sound of it hit his head. She saw him fall.

  But she didn’t stay around. She screamed and took off. Was he following her? She didn’t hear him, but she wasn’t taking any chance. She wanted to live. Life wasn’t supposed to be this short! She had people to love.

  Her name rang out. Was he calling her? She pushed herself to move. Fast. Then faster. She cut a corner past a tree and tripped over a gravestone.

  Before she could get up, someone grabbed her and pulled her up.

  She screamed and went straight into fight mode.

  Punching.

  Kicking.

  Scratching.

  She wasn’t about to die yet.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “Sheri. It’s me. I got you,” Danny said. “I got you.”

  She collapsed against him but then jerked back, trying to make him run. “Bradley. He’s got a knife. He . . . he . . .”

  Danny held out his gun, looking around. “I got you. Breathe. Just breathe.”

  She started sobbing and leaned against him again.

  She heard police sirens, and through the fog, she saw flashes of blue lights. More footfalls sounded and then she heard her mom calling her name.

  Drawing back a little, she looked at him. “Is that my . . . ?”

  “Yeah. She followed me. I didn’t have time to stop her.”

  The next thing Sheri knew, she was wrapped in the protective arms of her mother.

  The next half-hour passed in a blur. The paramedic shut the ambulance door, but Sheri could still hear Bradley yelling. They’d had to restrain him.

  When Danny, Cary, Turner and the other police found him, he was still unconscious. But he’d come to when they put him on the stretcher. Sheri looked around. It seemed the entire police force was here.

  Danny had insisted one of the paramedics look at her, too. But they proved exactly what she’d told him. She wasn’t hurt.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Sheri asked Cary, who now stood next to her taking notes. On her other side was her mom.

  “Yeah,” Cary said and looked back down at his notes.

  She’d had to go over what happened. Several times. Telling them everything. What he’d said about the money. About the look in his eyes.

  “What did you hit him with?” Cary asked.

  Sheri glanced up. “An angel arm. It had fallen off the statue.”

  He grinned. “Kind of puts whole new meaning to ‘touched by an angel,’ huh?”

  “I guess,” she said, unable to see the humor in it right now. But she did remember her father’s parting words. May the angels watch over you.

  “Here,” Danny said walking up. He handed her the letter and her purse that she’d left at her father’s gravesite.

  “Thanks.” She clutched the letter to her chest.

  He moved a little closer. “I’m going to have to go in and fill out some paperwork.” His blue eyes studied her. “When I’m done, I’ll call you. Are you going to be at your mom’s?”

  “Yes, she is,” Her mom said in a tone not to be argued with.

  Sheri nodded.

  He moved in closer. “Please answer your phone.”

  “I will,” she said and then, “Thank you.”

  He leaned in and pressed a kiss on the top of her head.

  Her heart lurched from his touch. Her father’s words rang in her head.

  Chase your dreams, but remember the most important thing in life isn’t what you do, but who you love and who loves you.

  • • •

  “I’m fine. I promise.” Sheri, standing beside her car in her mom’s driveway, hugged her mom. As panicked as Sheri had been, now she mostly felt sadness. Cary had called her and told her they’d discovered that Bradley had been diagnosed with mental illness as child. As had his mother. Not that it meant her father’s mistake hadn’t still been wrong. But obviously, her father wasn’t the root of his illness.

  “If you ever keep something like bombs and being on a hit list from me again, I’ll . . . I’ll ground you. I swear it!”

  Sheri almost laughed but managed to hold it back, because God help her, her mom was serious. “I won’t.”

  After about three hours at her mom’s, Danny had called and she’d agreed to meet him at her place.

  “I could drive you,” her mom said.

  “I’m fine. Fine as wine,” she said, using her mom’s saying.

  Her mom nodded and stepped back.

  On the drive, Sheri considered what she was going to say to Danny. Oh, she knew the gist of it. But she wanted to choose the right words.

  What had her mom said? Nothing gives you a new perspective on life more than almost dying.

  She loved Danny. But if she told him that, would it scare him away? Could she make him understand that she’d be patient and give him time to adapt to their relationship? They didn’t have to live together. They could take it slow. As slow as he wanted as long as . . . as long as he was still in her life.

  She made it to her apartment. The first thing she did was hug Taco, because she loved him, too. Then she went to freshen up before Danny got there.

  Her doorbell rang before she’d even put on her lip gloss. But she didn’t care. She ran to open the door.

  He walked in, looking unsure, a little scared and a lot vulnerable.

  Her chest tightened, and she realized how much she’d hurt him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what?” he asked, his hands petting Taco but his gaze on her.

  “I should have just talked to you.”

  “That would have been nice,” he said. Pain seemed to deepen his voice. “What happened? Why did you leave?”

  She moved to the sofa, and he followed her.

  “I heard you.”

  “Heard what?” he asked.

  “You . . . talking to Anna.”

  He sat there, trying to remember.

  “You told her something about trying to slow it down but that we’re practically living together and you didn’t want it. I freaked out. Because I . . . because I . . . did want it.”

  He shook his head. “No,” he said. “I told her I didn’t think it could be slowed down because we were practically living together. Then she asked if I wanted you to leave, and I told her, no, I didn’t want that.”

  His jaw hardened. “Damn it, Sheri, you can’t keep doing this.” He ran a hand through his hair, inhaled and held up his hands. “I’m sorry. You’re not the only one doing it. We have to stop doing this!”

  “Doing what?” she asked, unsure of exactly what he meant.

  “Not talking to each other.”

  She nodded. “I agree. But what if you don’t like what I have to say? I mean, I think ‘this,’” she moved a hand between them, “is scaring you.”

  “Not scaring me. It’s terrifying me,” he said.

  Tears filled her eyes. “We don’t have to . . . We could just date. See each other on Friday nights.”

  He stared at her. She wasn’t even sure he heard her.

  “Every other Friday night?” she said, feeling desperate.

  “Tanya did a number on me,” he said. “We’d only known each other a few months when we got married. She wanted a baby. I wanted to make her happy, so we went straight into baby-making. She got pregnant, and I thought things were going to be great. I was going to be the kind of father . . . my own dad could never be. The kind of father my uncle had been to me.” He swallowed. “But as soon as she got pregnant, she changed.”

  “I went to her sister to ask advice. I barely knew the woman, but I thought if anyone could give me advice, it would be her.”

  He sat back. “I was sure I was just doing something wrong. She told me Tanya was using me. That she just wan
ted to get pregnant and divorce me so I’d pay child support. She had another woman, they were lovers, and they had come up with this plan to both get pregnant and then live together using the child support they were going to get to raise the children.”

  Sheri sighed. “That’s awful.”

  “I didn’t believe her at first but then . . . I started looking at her Facebook messages and texts, and it was true. I felt like a complete idiot. Supposedly, around that same time, Tanya and her lover broke up. Before I knew what she was planning on doing, she got an abortion. I lost it. I was furious. I felt guilty. If I’d handled it differently . . .”

  “No.” Tears filled Sheri’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, but she did that. Not you.”

  He nodded. “That’s why I’m scared. Women, women I love, have a history of leaving me. But Sheri, the only goddamn thing that scares me more than loving you is losing you.”

  She heard him, but her mind wasn’t quite accepting it.

  “You . . . love me?” she asked.

  “Yes, so much it hurts. And at times I get so scared that I can’t breathe. When you heard me talking to Anna, I was there. I woke up that morning and you were so damn beautiful and I realized how much I loved you and I lost it. Anna was the only one who knew what happened so I called her to talk me off the ledge.”

  Sheri nodded. “I understand why you’re afraid. We can take it slow. And if you don’t want me to say I love you, I won’t.”

  “Why would I not want you to say it?” He frowned.

  “It might scare you.”

  He inhaled, and she saw his chest expand. “I think I might like to be that kind of scared.”

  She scooted closer to him and wrapped her arm around his, holding on to him tightly. “I love you, Danny Henderson. I think I fell in love with you even before you unzipped my dress at Chloe’s wedding.”

  “I knew you had the hots for me,” he said.

  She laughed the kind of laugh only he could get from her. “You aren’t too scared, hearing it?”