by Joya Ryan
I looked to where Harper was pointing.
“Oh, my God, he did.”
“That’s a pretty big motive for the VanBurens to pull the shit they’ve pulled.”
“Motive.” The single word clicked everything together. It was what the detective was looking for. The link that tied this all together. Jack had been right. Why would someone—aka Brock—be after me if there was nothing to gain? “This is what Brock was looking for when he broke into my house.”
“And when he didn’t find it, it’s probably why he burned the place.”
“It couldn’t have been him. He was in jail.”
“Then it was your bitch of a step-mother.”
I nodded. “That makes sense.”
Harper just shook her head. “If you’re not in his will, and there isn’t any other documentation on this, then once the company is sold, these documents won’t matter. Lana, you have to get to that meeting. Because this is the only way to show that when the company sells, the money goes to you.”
I nodded. The meeting was set for later today, so I had a few hours, but this was…terrifying. It all made sense now.
“This was why the stalking started in the first place,” I muttered. “I think my father wanted to sell months ago, that’s why Brock came back. Anita must have found out. He could have left her and taken his money with him. I think my dad was going to walk away from Anita and take the profits of the business with him.”
“That makes sense,” Harper agreed. “Maybe they found out somehow about the documents and killed him when he wouldn’t—”
Harper stopped when my retch knocked on my throat.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”
“You’re not,” I said. “Aside from everything, my father and I had a flawed relationship.” I thought back to all the bad moments. All the times I needed him and he wasn’t there. Then I thought of the few things he’d said. The hope I’d held on to. “He told me to stay away from Brock,” I whispered. Maybe, somehow, he was trying to warn me. Maybe I was grasping at something that could never be. But I honestly didn’t think so. Somewhere, deep down, I had to believe my father loved me. In his own way, maybe he even tried to warn me.
“So, you think they had something to do with his death?”
“Yes,” I said, without hesitation. My father died in the early afternoon before my house burned. Which meant that it could have been either Brock or Anita. I gripped the papers tighter. “Now, it’s time to prove it.” Because, like Harper said, this is one hell of a motive and enough to at least haul both of their VanBuren asses in for questioning again.
“I’ll bring the car around back,” Harper said and rushed out. I stood for a moment, looking at the papers and not caring about the money. What struck me was that my father cared. On some level, he’d thought of me. And it was the last sliver of goodness and despair that coursed through my veins. I wouldn’t let Brock or Anita get away with hurting another Case. I wouldn’t let them take everything my father built for themselves while torturing me the whole time.
This ended now.
Chapter 23
Shoving the documents into the front of my jacket, I hugged them close and stood on my toes, looking down the alley. No sign of Harper yet. We’d parked a bazillion miles away this morning, since there’d been no spots nearby.
The sky was graying with a snow cloud moving in front of the sun. The alley was bleak and dark, and there was a good reason I hated this side of the city. I wanted to call Jack and tell him everything. Wanted to hug Cal and listen to him reassure me.
I could do neither.
I was alone. Standing in the cold with the memory of my father and, hopefully, the end to the VanBurens in my life.
“Did you have an eventful trip?” a nasty feminine voice rang out.
“Anita?”
She rounded the corner and walked toward me, her black designer trench coat tied around her waist and her heels clicking on the pavement. I’d never seen a more evil look in anyone’s eye. But I wasn’t backing down. Not now. Not ever again.
“You disgust me,” I told her, and held tight to the papers under my jacket. “You killed my father, didn’t you? And for what? Money?”
She scoffed. “A lot of money.” She took another step. “And no, I didn’t kill him.” The way she smiled after saying that left little faith in her words. “But, you’re going to hand me those papers right now.”
She looked at where I was concealing them, then at my face. How the hell could she have known? Unless…
“You’ve been following me?”
She lifted a shoulder with a shrug. “You’re not hard to keep tabs on, Lana. But you should have stayed in that cabin and let this play out instead of making a mess of things.”
My eyes shot wide. She’d known I was at Jack and Cal’s cabin the whole time.
“That was your grand plan? Keep me out of the picture until you sold the business and collected the money?”
“You’ve always been a nuisance.”
“You didn’t have to kill my dad!” I yelled at her. She took another step and pulled a small pistol out of her large coat pocket. My palms went sweaty at the same time my blood froze. We were in a back alley, but surely someone around the front would hear a gun go off. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind to think of logistics now, though. All I saw was the barrel of the weapon and my heart dropped.
Did my father stare down the same gun?
I let what little anger I had beat out the fear. It was time for logic.
“You really think shooting me, where everyone can hear, is going to help your cause?”
“Everyone? There’s barely a few strangers around the front of the building. I’ll be gone by the time anyone comes to find you. Now, give me the papers. Don’t think for a moment I won’t pull the trigger.”
I believed her. But, no, I wouldn’t stand down.
“I’m going to the police. And you won’t touch my father’s company or get a dime from it.” I lifted my chin. “You don’t scare me.” And for the first time in a long time, it was true.
“Stupid girl.”
She lunged at me, her free hand shoving at my stomach to get to the papers I was hiding. I kicked out and shoved her away with my free hand. She wobbled back, her heels scraping the wet concrete, but righted herself quickly. She was back on me, the cold gun pressing into my chest. It was heavy enough that I felt the ridges of the barrel abrade my skin.
A clicking sound…like the cocking of a gun, shot a fresh dose of fear through my system. She was ready to kill me for the papers. For the money. I didn’t have to see her finger on the trigger to know it was there.
But I was fighting for something bigger than her reasons. I was fighting for my dad. And for myself. For all the lies and the evil they rained down on everyone they encountered. Brock hurt people. Anita hurt people. I wouldn’t go down without a fight.
I would never slink away from them again.
I went to knock her away—
Bang!
The gun went off and it was so loud that it hurt my ears. But it was nothing compared to the pain that exploded through my body. A concentrated prick of heat ripped open my skin and trickled through my body like an icicle melting slowly.
I kicked at Anita and she fell back, the gun sliding away with a loud scratching noise.
She stood and bounded toward me. I was weak. Numb. A cold blast of air hit and instantly chilled my bones. She was coming for me, and I couldn’t raise my arm to ward her off.
Fight! I had to fight. I tried to move, but my legs locked, then softened against my commands. I slumped to my knees.
Why was I so cold?
So weak?
I saw her eyes lock on mine. Five steps away…arms outstretched. She was going to take the papers. Take everything. And I couldn’t stop her.
A screeching noise and skidding tires echoed over the low hum in my ears. A red car slammed into Anita a
nd sent her flying back against the brick wall.
Harper.
I looked at my friend. She was moving so fast. Rounding the front of the car and coming right at me.
“Lana!” She knelt in front of me. “Oh, God, Lana, I’m going to get you help, okay? Just hang on.” She yanked her cell phone from her pocket and dialed frantically.
“Hang on?” I asked. Why was Harper so scared? So worried? She’d saved me from Anita. She’d hit her with her car.
I looked at Harper’s face. Her big eyes were teary. I wanted to tell her it was okay. She saved me from Anita. It was self-defense. She wouldn’t be in trouble.
I stepped toward her, but my leg wouldn’t move…because I was kneeling on them. When had that happened? I thought I remembered slumping down. Maybe I didn’t? I tried to replay the scuffle, but came up short.
Another blast of cold shot through my body. Snowflakes started to fall, that heavy cloud in the sky rising higher. I thought of Jack’s dark eyes. The way he held me. How he made me feel strong and weak at the same time.
Another snowflake fell.
I thought of Cal. How he made everything better. Made me laugh. Made me hope.
I loved them.
I watched another fluff of snow land on my shoulder and looked to find…red.
It was all over my jacket.
I went to touch it and realized I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. A searing edge of pain sliced through my chest and down my arm, and it hurt so bad. As if whatever numbing agent I’d been coasting on had worn off.
I was lying on the ground. When had I laid down?
“I’m tired…” I said to Harper. “And cold.”
“I know, honey, I know,” she said, crying and tugging her jacket off to press it against the red spot, all while balancing the phone between her shoulder and ear. I didn’t know what she was saying. But she looked so upset.
She pushed her jacket hard against me.
“Ah!” I screamed. “That hurts. Please stop.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. But help is on the way. Just hang on.”
I heard sirens in the background and thought of Cal. Was he coming? Coming after me? A small smile hit my face.
“He’s coming for me,” I whispered.
With that, I closed my eyes, and let the happy thought take me down.
Chapter 24
A flash of bright light hit my eyes. The harsh noise of metal clacking together snapped against my eardrums. Voices. So many voices. But I couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t feel anything except a large mask covering my nose and mouth.
I needed air. Badly. But it wasn’t coming.
I was lying flat.
I tried to move, but couldn’t.
The coolness crept in so potent it permeated my bones.
I wanted to touch my chest. Pound on it. Anything if it would just let me breathe…
“Get her up there. On my count. One, two, lift!”
A loud boom and my body jostled. I didn’t recognize the voice. But a beeping sound got louder and louder. The voices kept talking in a way I didn’t understand.
“I’ve got absent lung sounds on the right.”
Pressure poked different spots on my chest. I tried to beg to these far off voices for help. But I couldn’t even exhale enough to whisper.
“Have the one-way valve ready,” that same voice said.
A slice of agony burst through my ribs and a rush of blessed air released. I blinked as fast as I could, but it didn’t help. Just flecks of light pierced the darkness.
A loud bang rang out. Like a fist against solid glass. “God damn it!”
That voice I recognized. It was Cal.
“Cal!” I screamed out for him. But my mouth didn’t move. I could have sworn I screamed. Another bang. Finally, a little clarity struggled into my vision. Hands flew above my face, passing medical instruments back and forth.
Hospital. I was in the hospital.
A memory tapped on my skull briefly. I remembered Anita…the gun…the pain.
Forcing my gaze as far as it could go, I finally saw him. Saw my Cal. He was on the other side of a window. Banging at it.
I couldn’t move. I just looked at Cal. He was so mad. So scared. His big fists resting against the window as he looked in. Looked at me.
When his blue gaze met mine, his massive chest stumbled on a heavy breath, and so much water lined his eyes that I could see it from the several feet and through the wall of glass that separated us.
He was beautiful. Like a phantom sent to watch over me. I didn’t want him to be sad. I didn’t want him to hurt.
He looked at me, his mouth moving, but I couldn’t hear the words.
A flare of black eyes caught my attention. Jack. He was right next to Cal. He moved into my line of vision like a sleek angel of darkness. Only what I saw made my chest hurt. Which was odd, since I was numb. But this pain came from the inside.
Jack was deadly with his stare, but I’d never seen a look like this on his face before. Defeat. He looked lost. His thick lashes blinked once and rained tears with the action. Silent. Still. With a continuous stream of water falling from his eyes. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just looked at me.
“Don’t be sad,” I tried to say. “Please…” I couldn’t bear the look on his face. Couldn’t bear it on Cal’s. We were separated by a window and it seemed so trivial. It was so easy when life was stripped away and left nothing but the people you loved…who loved you back.
My eyes felt heavy. The low hum of all the voices faded together and a fog settled over my vision. I just needed to close my eyes…just for a moment.
“Her pressure is dropping!”
The last thing I saw was pure fear streak across Jack’s face and Cal pounding the window, calling my name.
Chapter 25
Soft cool hands cupped my face. The smell of sugar cookies engulfed me, and I took a deep inhale.
“Bea?” I whispered, surprised to find my throat nearly closed up and scratchy.
“Yes, sweetheart. It’s Aunt Bea. Open your eyes for me, sweet girl.”
I tried. But they felt so heavy. So, I tried again. It took several seconds, but Bea’s plump face finally came into focus, and it was a wonderful sight.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She frowned. “You’re asking if I’m okay?” She smiled. “You’re the one who got shot.”
Oh right…the pain in my chest and shoulder throbbed and reminded me quickly what had happened. I didn’t want Bea to be around me if it wasn’t safe.
“Anita and Brock…they are bad. They…”
“I know, honey. We called the police. Harper is still out there talking with them. They have an officer with Anita now. Your friend Harper broke Anita’s leg and gave her a nasty concussion from hitting her with that car. Though I wish she would have reversed and driven over that horrible woman again,” Bea grumbled.
I smiled. “It’s really over?”
She nodded. “Yeah, honey.”
“But, my dad. The company.”
“They took Brock into custody regarding your dad. They have evidence he was the one who…” Bea glanced away, and I knew what she meant. Brock had pulled the trigger and killed my father. But they had him. He’d be punished. “Anita set the fire. They found all kinds of nasty stuff in her garage, and they are also charging her with a whole bunch of other things, including hurting you.” She rubbed my face. “It’s all over. They got them. You’re safe now.”
I closed my eyes and leaned into Bea’s soft touch. Her thumbs brushed my cheeks as she held my face. It was soothing. Felt like…family.
When I opened them again, I noticed the small room was empty. My heart sank. Had I imagined Jack and Cal at the window?
“They’re here,” Bea said, as if reading my mind. But, however she knew my thoughts, I didn’t care. “We got word you were in recovery and just one person could come back. I told them I was your aunt and got to come first.” She winked. But th
ere was a sadness to her expression. “The boys are walking holes in the floor out there. They didn’t know if you’d want to see them…”
My heart broke. No matter what, I’d never not want to see them.
“I want to see them. Very much.”
Bea nodded, just as Jack’s menacing voice sounded from down the hallway. Saying something along the lines of, “try and stop me from seeing her.”
I laughed and Bea rolled her eyes.
“It seems that they are on their way.”
That was just like them. Pushing in when there was no other way. And I loved them for it.
When Jack bounded through the door and I saw him, a smile so wide split my cheeks that it actually hurt. The nurse was telling him to leave.
“It’s okay,” I managed. Then Cal was right behind him, shoving his way through the door. “They can stay.”
The nurse eyed them, then left. Bea patted my cheek, “I’ll just go get some Jell-O.”
She left, leaving me with a very tired, very annoyed looking Jack and a very pissed off Cal.
“Jesus, baby,” Jack whispered and hovered near me, afraid to touch me. “I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t believe we almost lost you,” Cal said, and came to the other side of the bed and held my hand. “I’m sorry too. For everything.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” I said. Jack ran the back of his finger along my cheek. He looked ready to tear at the seams from exhaustion.
“There’s much to be sorry about,” he said. “We let you walk away. I was trying to control a situation that wasn’t mine to control. I shouldn’t have forced your hand.”
“I walked away, and I’ll never forgive myself for that,” I said.
“We messed up,” Cal said. “From the beginning. But if you’ll have us, we’ll make it right. Every day.”
“Us?” I asked. Cal squeezed my hand and shot a look to Jack.
“Yes, us. We won’t make you choose. We’ll be whatever you need us to be. Just as long as it’s forever.”
My heart hurt with so much hope it was ready to burst open. But logistics crept in.