by Morgan James
“It was all you.” I almost couldn’t believe it. “The money, the break in. Everything.”
She rolled her eyes. “You made it so easy, and you were too stupid to suspect a thing. Even Megan,” she scoffed. “All I had to do was look over her shoulder a couple times while she was at the register to get her code.”
“You hate me that much?”
Contempt curled her lip. “I wanted to make your life miserable any way I could. Getting Megan out of the way gave me the opportunity to get into the salon that night.”
Suddenly, it made sense. Had Megan been there, Gwen would’ve had to leave with her. The security company said the alarm had been set at the normal time; Gwen would have set it without actually leaving the salon, giving her plenty of time to tear the place apart.
“But you helped—”
“That’s right,” she cut over me. “I helped. It was me in there that morning with Xander, me saving the day.”
I jumped as a loud bang filled the air. Gwen’s head snapped toward the kitchen, and she grasped my arm, pulling me to my feet just as Xander came into view. My breath stuttered to a stop as cold metal pressed to my temple.
Chapter Forty-Six
Xander
Cold fear mixed with fury snaked through my veins, and I held my hands up, my gaze fixed on Gwen. “Gwen, put the gun down.”
Eyes filled with fire, she shook her head. The gun swung in my direction, and I sucked in a breath as she leveled a glare at me. “So you finally figured it out.”
It was a statement, not a question, and I nodded. “I remember you.” Now that I saw her—really saw her—all the pieces fell into place. I remembered the young girl who’d followed us around when she was younger, her flaming red hair and freckles nothing like the black bob she now sported. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you at first. You look... different.”
Her posture relaxed a bit, but she didn’t lower the gun. “I had to do something to get your attention.”
My attention? I fought to control my reaction. “I didn’t realize...”
Gwen let out a soft snort. “Of course you wouldn’t. I was never good enough for you. My hair was too red, I was too fat. I was just the ugly duckling that no one wanted around.”
I shook my head. “That’s not true.” I remembered the chubby little girl who’d always been covered in dirt, trying to keep up with the neighborhood boys. And, apparently, me. “I’m sorry you got overlooked. Guys are dumb.” I spread my hands wide, trying to come up with the words. “You know how it is. In high school, you think image is everything. We shouldn’t have cast you aside, and I’m sorry. But please don’t take it out on her,” I pleaded. “This is my fault.”
A sad expression entered her eyes. “It was supposed to be me. You were supposed to love me.”
“Gwen...” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I couldn’t risk her hurting Lydia. “Just... put the gun down so we can talk, all right?”
Her head tipped slightly to one side. “About what?”
“About us.” I gestured between us. The gun in her hand never wavered. As long as it was pointed at me, though, Lydia was safe.
She closed her eyes briefly before meeting my gaze again. “I wanted you for so long.” Her voice was quiet, full of emotion. “I hoped when you came back, you’d finally see me. But you just wanted her.” Lydia let out a soft gasp as Gwen gave her a little shake. “I did everything I could to make you see her for the liar she is. That’s why I told you she was on a date. I put Alexia right in front of your nose, for God’s sake!” Gwen let out an aggravated sigh. “You should hate her for lying to you. Why do you care about her so much?”
“She’s the mother of my child.”
“That’s bullshit!” Gwen seethed. Her hand shook, and I prayed to God she wouldn’t accidentally squeeze the trigger. “The person I should be mad at is you. I should be your wife. Alexia should be mine!”
“Gwen...” Fuck. I scrambled to defuse the situation. “You’re right.”
She blinked at me. “What?”
“I made a mistake with Lydia. You were always there for me, and I should’ve seen it sooner.” I had to keep her talking, had to get close enough that I could disarm her. I took a small step forward, my hands still at my sides, unthreatening. “I’m sorry. I want to... start over.”
Her head canted slightly to the side as she weighed my words. “You do?”
“Yes.” Another tiny step. “Lydia might be the mother of my child, but she’s not the love of my life, Gwen.”
Something flickered in those light brown depths. “She’s not?”
I shook my head, hoping to hell that she wouldn’t see right through me. “No, Gwen. It’s not her I want.”
I watched a myriad of expressions flash across her face. “Let’s find out.”
The ground seemed to drop from beneath my feet as the barrel of the gun swung away from me toward Lydia. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out despite the distance between us, and Gwen’s face darkened. Her eyes never left mine as the sound of the front door opening reached our ears. I focused on her alone, terrified to even glance in Lydia’s direction. I couldn’t let my focus waver.
“You lied to me, Xander. So you know what I’m going to do?” Her tone sent a shiver of fear down my spine. “I’m going to take away the thing you love most.”
Everything happened in slow motion. The barrel of the gun moved again as Gwen pressed it to her own temple and pulled Lydia close. I screamed as the report of the gun filled the air and a pink mist filled the room, splattering the walls and ceiling.
Launching myself over the back of the couch, I landed on my knees beside Lydia’s crumpled form. “Lydia! Oh, God, no, no, no!”
One hand lifted listlessly toward her face, and I pushed it away. Blood slipped through my fingers, its coppery scent permeating the air as I pressed my hands to her head. I couldn’t tell where she’d been hit or how bad it was; the thick red liquid coated and concealed everything.
“Lydia!” I screamed her name, and her eyes fluttered open. She met my gaze for a second before they shuttered once more. “Stay with me, baby. Everything’s going to be okay.”
The pounding of footsteps filled the air, but I didn’t bother to see who it was. “Get help!” A radio crackled to life and Phillips’s voice moved closer as he called for EMS, kneeling next to Gwen to feel for a pulse.
“Lydia! Stay with me, honey. Alexia needs you. I need you,” I whispered. Her chest rose and fell in a shallow motion, the seconds between each breath growing longer and more labored. Blood soaked the carpet around us, covering her face and seeping into my pants. I didn’t dare remove my hand from the wound. My heart crushed in on itself as my wife slowly bled out in my arms.
I SHOVED MY FINGERS through my hair, tugging anxiously at the short strands, scraping my nails over the flesh, needing to feel the pain. I lowered my hands to my lap and stared at them. Though I’d washed them damn near a hundred times over the last couple days, I didn’t think I would ever get the sight of Lydia’s blood saturating them out of my mind.
I could still see the blood gushing from her head, the red liquid slipping between my fingers. I felt her pulse beneath my touch, life slowly draining from her. I would never forget that moment as long as I lived, never forget the fear coursing through me as I walked in on that scene straight from hell. I would never forget the look of pure malice in Gwen’s eyes, wild and fierce. I had tried to stop her, but she was too far gone. I couldn’t believe I’d missed all the signs right in front of me.
I swear my heart stopped when she pulled the trigger and I watched Lydia’s body crumple to the ground, a sea of red splattering the walls and saturating the creamy carpet. Thank God Phillips had been right behind me. He’d radioed for EMS, and the medic I’d just visited with Alexia arrived at Lydia’s house mere moments later.
I wasn’t ashamed to say that I hadn’t asked after Gwen. She’d made her choice, and I didn’t bo
ther to spare a thought to try to save her. My priority was saving my wife and keeping her from bleeding out in my arms.
The door to Lydia’s room opened and closed softly. Expecting to see a doctor or nurse, my eyes widened in surprise when they landed on Con. He gave a slight nod as he moved toward me to sink into the extra chair. His gaze skated over Lydia’s form, so small and fragile-looking in the huge white bed, before jumping back to mine. “How is she doing?”
The soft, steady beeps from the machines pierced the silence, relentless in their persistence. Numbers flashed on the screens as they constantly monitored her vitals. I watched Lydia’s chest rise and fall rhythmically, aided by the endotracheal tube they had installed in her airway two days ago. The first day at the hospital was touch and go, but they finally had gotten her stabilized. Now they were keeping her medically sedated until the swelling in her brain went down.
The bullet had passed through Gwen’s head and into Lydia. Thank God Gwen had misjudged the angle. By some miracle, the bullet had ricocheted off Lydia’s skull when it penetrated, forcing the trajectory upward instead of directly into her brain. It had still done some damage, but not nearly what it could have. It was no real consolation—head wounds were tricky. Lydia still hadn’t woken, and we wouldn’t know just how bad it was until she was awake and coherent.
“She’s hanging in there.”
Lydia’s mother had stopped in this morning to check on her, as well as Blake and Victoria. Each had insisted I go home to rest, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave her here alone. Darlene had been invaluable over the last few days. I went home each evening to spend time with Alexia and put her to bed, then grab whatever little amount of sleep I could. Around five a.m., Darlene took over and I made my way back to the hospital. Thankfully the ICU didn’t have restricted hours, because I couldn’t bear to leave Lydia for more than a few hours at a time.
Con slid a look at me from the corner of his eyes. “How are you holding up?”
I sat silently for a moment, unable to answer. I couldn’t begin to put into words the emotions the past several days had wrought—the fear, the anger at both myself and Gwen, but mostly the helplessness. Guilt assailed me. I should have seen the signs, should’ve stopped this before it got this far. That no one else had recognized them either wasn’t reassuring in the least. Abel had tried to reassure me, as did Emily when they came to visit yesterday. Gwen was deranged, willing to go to any length to get what she wanted. Never had I imagined this whole thing revolved around me. I was single-handedly responsible for bringing Gwen into Lydia and Alexia’s lives. Their entire world had been turned upside down because of me. Lydia was now fighting for her life because I hadn’t seen the truth until it was too late.
Seeming to sense my conflict, Con spoke again. “Kingsley is taking care of the house. They were pulling up carpet and prepping to paint when I left.”
“Thank you,” I managed to choke out. He’d mentioned yesterday that he planned to have Bennett Kingsley come in and fix the damage. The same man who’d assisted in the case with Oliver Eldredge, Kingsley’s company had done some of the work on QSG headquarters when they’d been remodeled. I was grateful to both him and Con for the offer. I didn’t want to leave Lydia’s side, and renovating the house was the last thing I wanted her to deal with after everything that had happened. I knew Darlene and George would have helped out, but I felt it was my responsibility. Lydia was my wife, and I should have protected her. She never should have been in that position in the first place.
I would never be able to pay Con back for the things he’d done over the past week. His connections had enabled us to find my daughter and the person responsible for the recent upheaval in our lives. I shuddered as the memory of that night washed over me. I was incredibly grateful that Lydia would never have to see that gory scene, the creamy carpet saturated in blood, tissue splattered over the walls and ceiling. I didn’t know what it would cost to have somebody replace all those things on such short notice, but it was worth it. I wanted Lydia to be able to walk into her house and not be uncomfortable. I had a feeling, however, that that night would haunt both of us for the rest of our lives.
Con stayed for a few more moments and made small talk, telling me about Gwen’s boyfriend, Justin. Unable to make bail, he was still sitting down at the jail waiting for his arraignment. As it turned out, Eldredge had been behind the auctions all along. Justin and two other young men had broken into the residences and shops, then transferred the items to Eldredge to auction off. Justin had some informal training in computer science, so he’d been able to easily access the auction platform he’d set up for Eldredge. He’d also had the foresight to record their conversations, and the police had arrested Eldredge yesterday on multiple charges.
Justin himself was facing several charges for kidnapping and human trafficking, though in exchange for his confession, the charges for larceny had been dropped. According to Justin, Gwen had asked him to get rid of Alexia however possible—permanently. Gwen had been willing to eliminate anything in her way to get to me, but Justin insisted he couldn’t do it. Instead, he suggested they set up the auction, enticing her with the money they could make. It also allowed him to run background checks to ensure Alexia went to a good home.
The thought made me see red. Gwen had stalked, then attacked Lydia because of me, because of her jealousy over a childhood crush that hadn’t been returned. I wish I could go back in time and change everything, but it was too late. I never even suspected a thing. Gwen had seemed so nice, so helpful—but it was all a ruse. Everything she had done was out of spite. Justin had confirmed what we’d all suspected.
Megan—the young woman Lydia had fired a few weeks back—had claimed she hadn’t stolen the money. Ironically, Gwen had closed with her each night it happened. It would have been simple for her to reopen the register using Megan’s code and take the cash. When she had supposedly been in the back working, she had plenty of time to go around the front of the building and throw the rock through the front window. Even the night that the salon had been broken into and trashed—Gwen had closed that night, and Justin admitted that Gwen had been out until the wee hours of the morning. Instead of going home after clocking out, she had taken her time pulling dresses from the racks and making a mess in the salon. It made sense now why nothing had been stolen and nothing truly destroyed. It burned me to think that she had come in and offered to help the next morning knowing that she was the one behind everything. All she had to do with the dresses was make a few minor fixes here and there, and they were good as new.
Con made a quiet exit, and I scooted closer to the bed. Lydia’s hand was cool and limp in mine when I picked it up and pressed it to my lips. I cradled her hand against my cheek and whispered against her soft skin. “Fight for me, sweetheart. I need you to be strong.”
I squeezed her hand a little bit tighter, hoping that she could feel me, could hear me. “Our daughter needs you, Liddy.”
I need you.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Lydia
My throat ached, and the bright white light blinded me as I blinked my eyes open. I looked around the unfamiliar room, a low beep cutting through the silence every few seconds. It didn’t take long to recognize the medical-grade machines and the IV attached to the inside of my arm. I turned my head to the right. Had I been able to, I would have smiled at the sight that greeted me. Xander slept in a chair beside my bed, his head propped up on one fist.
I thought I’d been dreaming before when I’d woken up for a few seconds and seen a handful of people, their faces hidden behind masks. At the time, it’d seemed like a nightmare, some alien-type movie that I’d seen years ago. All I’d been able to make out was the people’s shapes, backlit by bright lights. Their words were unfamiliar, barely registering over the buzzing in my ears.
My entire body felt heavy with fatigue. I licked my lips and tried to speak, but all that came out was a soft croak. Next to me, Xander stirred. I watched as his eyes
fluttered open and darted toward the door. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. He was always alert, on guard. Awake barely a second, he was ready to react to anything life threw at him.
Noticing that it was still closed, his gaze swept the room, over the bed and up to my face. His eyes alighted on mine and widened with surprise. He jerked upright and leaned toward me, already reaching for my hand.
“Hey, babe. How are you feeling?”
I swallowed, but the soreness of my throat made it almost unbearable. I lifted one hand toward my throat, and Xander nodded.
“Hold on one second.” Reaching over my head, he hit the call button on the remote sitting next to me on the pillow. He pulled the chair closer to the bed and resumed his sitting position. His eyes never left mine as he grasped my hand tightly in his. “Does your throat hurt?”
I nodded, my eyebrows drawing together in question. My mind still felt fuzzy and sluggish, as though I couldn’t quite wake up.
Xander grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
His words triggered a memory, and I bolted upright as Alexia immediately came to mind. Oh, God. My baby was missing. I reached frantically for him, my eyes searching his, pleading for answers. My mouth tried to form words, but nothing came out. He seemed to know exactly what I was asking, because he gripped my hand tightly, his voice low and soothing.
“Alexia is fine. She’s at home where she’s safe.”
I relaxed and fell back against the pillow. Those had been some of the worst days of my life, and I wanted to never repeat them again. I was thankful that Xander and his friends had brought her home where she belonged. I started to ask him how he found her, but we were interrupted as the door opened. A nurse strolled through, a smile on her face as she approached.
“Hey, glad to see you awake.”