by Dana Mason
“Hi, it’s me. God, Mark, please call me. I miss you and I’m worried about you and...” She painfully inhaled a sob. “I really miss you.” She quickly closed her phone before breaking down completely.
She lay there for a long time—too long. It sickened her how pathetic she was.
“Get over it,” she muttered. “Get up and move on, Sarah.” She lifted up, watched the surf for a while, and then stood and got moving. She needed to work her muscles to clear her head. That was the only healthy way to move on. When she felt better, she’d be better.
“So what’s this update you were so fired up to give me?” Mark asked when he stepped into Brian’s office.
Brian gestured. “Close the door.” He waited for Mark to sit. “You find your lady yet?”
“Yeah, I got Shane on her.” He sat in the chair across from Brian.
Brian’s lips curled into a crooked smile. “You sound like a fucking stalker. I should arrest you.”
“Don’t start with me.” Mark frowned. “You of all people should understand why I’m doing this.”
“We’ve all been stupid in love before. I get it.” He flipped open the file on his desk and tossed Mark the picture on top.
“Oh—hell!” He fought the coiling in his stomach. It was a crime scene photo of a dead woman, her throat slit from ear to ear and her eyes wide open. The resemblance to Sarah was uncanny. Her face was slightly narrower than Sarah’s but the curls, the shape of her eyes, everything else was eerily similar. “Who the hell is that?”
“Our guy’s latest victim.” Brian snatched the photo out of Mark’s hand and tossed it back in the file. “You didn’t see that.”
Mark’s blood ran cold. He knew what it meant...and he knew how much trouble Brian would be in for showing him.
“You need to call Shane and get him on guard.”
“He’s graduated to murder...oh my God.” Mark closed his eyes, trying to get the image of the dead girl out of his head. “I can’t believe how much she looks like Sarah.”
“Considering the notes that have been left in her box since she’s been gone...she’s in a lot of danger if he finds her.”
“I’ll let Shane know. Thank God she’s not here.” He lowered his head, hoping Brian didn’t see the look in his eyes. He missed her so much, he could hardy drag himself out of bed every day, and hearing updates from Shane didn’t help.
“You should head up there too. Stop licking your wounds, get away from this, and work some shit out with her.”
Mark would love to. After seeing that picture, he wanted nothing more than to hold her close, inhale her scent, and keep her in the circle of his arms forever. But he couldn’t, she needed to come back on her own. She had to make the choice to be with him.
He shook his head. “She’s the one who ran away. I’m not chasing her, and I’m not forcing her into a relationship she doesn’t want. She’ll come home when she’s ready, and until then, I’m backing off.”
Brian stared at the file on his desk for a long time, his expression hard, disdainful. “If you love her, you’ll fight for her. Sitting around feeling sorry for yourself is just wasting time. Trust me, I know.” He leaned forward and looked Mark dead in the eye. “Don’t you think she might be worth a try?”
Mark stood. “I gotta go.”
“Mark!” Brian shouted before Mark could leave the office. “Don’t get any ideas with this guy. If you get him on camera, call us. Don’t be a fucking hero.”
Mark climbed into his truck and heard the chime on his cell phone. He reached over and took it from the cup holder where he’d left it. One missed call.
“Son of a bitch...she called.” He dialed up the voice message and listened with a sinking heart, surprised that he could feel any worse than he already had.
He needed to warn Shane, maybe get Randy up there to help with the detail. He put his Bluetooth to his ear and hit the speed dial to call Shane before starting his truck.
“‘Ello,” he panted into the phone.
“Hey, how’s it going? Why the hell are you out of breath?”
“Sarah decided to go running on the beach today. I’m trying to keep up with her.”
“She’s injured—not supposed to be running.”
“How the fuck do you suggest I stop her? Come on, man, this is only the second time she’s stepped out of the house all week.”
“How does she look? Is she in any pain?”
“She’s broken, Mark. Sat on the beach and cried for fifteen minutes, then jumped up and took off running—oh thank God, she’s slowing to a walk.”
“Don’t let her make you.”
“No, she’s not paying any attention to me...ah...she’s crying again.”
“Dammit.” The one time he leaves the phone in the truck, she calls. “She—” He gritted his teeth and fought to keep calm. “She called me and I didn’t have my phone on me.”
“Ouch.” Shane sucked air though his teeth. “Well...that’s progress. At least she made the first move.”
“I have an update from Brian,” Mark said, changing the subject on purpose. “Our rapist is now a murderer.”
“That changes things.”
“He’s also still leaving notes in her box—notes that get more graphic every day. You need to be on guard. I’m thinking about sending Randy up there to relieve you.” Mark angled his truck into his driveway and turned the engine off.
“Don’t yet, give it another day or two. If she doesn’t leave the house, then you’ll just be wasting your money.”
“I don’t give a shit about money. She’s what’s important here.”
“Then quit dicking around and call her back. I gotta go, she’s on the move again.”
Mark slammed his phone shut and wanted to fucking punch something.
“Dicking around, fuck me!” He threw the truck door open, slammed it behind him, tugged the mailbox open, and froze, unable to break his gaze from the small, unmarked envelope staring back at him.
After several seconds, he snatched up the envelope and ran into the house for a Ziploc bag. He stood in his kitchen, looking at the envelope in the bag, knowing without a doubt that things had changed. This message proved she was in more danger than he had ever imagined.
Pictures of a dead girl flashed in his mind. He took a deep breath and stepped back outside to his truck. He needed to get this to Brian, but first, he had to hear her voice. He had to know that at this very second she was okay.
He pulled out his phone and dialed her number. It rang several times, and he was about to hang up to avoid her voicemail, when she finally answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi...” Fuck, now what. “Ah, I saw that you called.”
“I did.”
Her heavy breathing scared him. She was supposed to be recovering still. “Are you okay? You sound breathless.”
“I’m trying to run.” The whine in her voice made him want to reach out and touch her. Do something to make things easier for her. “I’m not getting very far though.”
“Doesn’t your doctor still have you on rest?”
“He does, but I’m going stir crazy with the rain. I’m in Oregon.”
He nearly said I know but stopped himself. “It’s a little late to let me know where you are, don’t you think?”
“I guess so.”
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to you...I tell you I love you and you run out on me.”
“You have every right to be furious with me.”
“Yeah.” He wanted like hell to rant at her but that would get him nowhere, and regardless of how pissed off he was, he still loved her and missed her.
“How have you been?” Her attempt at sounding breezy pissed him off even more.
He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. “Just peachy. How the fuck do you think I’ve been?”
“I miss you...you’re all I can think about.”
He sat quietly for a few seconds, waiting for his stomach to st
op tilting. All the anger in the world couldn’t hold up against those few words. What was he doing picking a fight with her when he was just happy to hear her voice again?
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get the same words out, but all he said was, “Me too.”
“I’m sorry for leaving without saying goodbye.”
“Right—right! You’re sorry for not saying goodbye—that’s exactly what I needed to know. Thanks for calling. I gotta go.”
“No! That’s not what I meant—I’m sorry for hurting you—I’m sorry for running away when I should have talked to you.”
Mark opened his eyes and stared up at the roof of his truck. “You’re a coward—is that what you want to talk about? Let’s put it out there—let’s just throw all our cards on the table. You’re scared because you have feelings for me and that fucks up your tight, little controlled world.”
“I don’t blame you for being angry with me...don’t know what else to say but that I‘m sorry.”
“You don’t know what to say but that you’re sorry.” He couldn’t help shouting. Even now she closed herself off to him. “How about talking to me for real? Just talk! Tell me something other than I’m sorry. Instead of walking away, tell me you’re scared or tell me you need space. Anything!”
“When I tried to talk to you, you didn’t want to hear what I had to say.”
“Bullshit, Sarah, I told you I would back off. I agreed you weren’t ready for this. Do you have any idea what the last two weeks have been like for me, not knowing what happened to you? You never considered how I would feel when I realized you were gone.”
“I have a pretty good idea what you were going through. I was alone and worried, too.”
“I didn’t have a choice, though! You cut me off cold...left a fucking note that didn’t say anything!”
“I’m sorry for all the words I didn’t say.”
He’d been hard on her, but he couldn’t push back his anger. Not over the phone. God, he wanted to touch her—pull her close and bury his face in her curls.
“I’m sorry for all the words you didn’t say too.”
The line went dead before he got the sentence out. He stared at the phone, not sure what to do next. Call her back? Go to Oregon? Drag her ass home and show her that she loved him too, even when she was too chicken shit to admit it?
No. He shook his head, knowing his main concern should be getting this envelope to Brian and installing cameras on his house like he’d done Sarah’s. The only way to guarantee her safety was to catch this fucker, and since the police weren’t having any luck, he’d do it himself.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sarah didn’t know how long she sat there, watching the surf. She and Mark were over, and she had to face the fact that she’d screwed things up beyond repair. He was too angry to see how she felt, and besides, it’s not like he could ever understand her. He could never understand where she’d come from or what she’d endured in her life. How stupid of her to believe she had a chance for anything normal—any semblance of a normal life for her.
She held too much baggage—too many hurts and too many hurdles to jump. She slowly walked back to the beach house and climbed the stairs on the back deck. As she turned to go inside, she noticed a man off in the distance. The beach wasn’t deserted. The great weather had brought everyone out, but this wasn’t the first time she’d noticed him since she’d left the house. The hair on her scalp prickled. Even from this distance, she could feel his eyes on her.
All the years she’d spent looking over her shoulder for Kevin had given her a sixth sense about these things. That’s why the attack at the club scared her. She’d never seen it coming. Another reason for her to get her act together, get back in shape, and maybe talk Gabby into teaching her some self-defense moves.
Sarah’s new outlook on life started here. When she stepped off these stairs and into the kitchen, she’d have a new mindset, new workout routine, new everything. She would get Mark out of her head, even if she had to use a freaking crowbar. In a few weeks, she’d go home and meet him as a friend only.
Mark would meet a woman without the baggage, and Sarah could go back to her simple life—she couldn’t wait to get back to work. She’d had very little time with her new class before the attack, and she craved their attention and their open, little minds. That’s one of the things she loved about teaching first grade. She got them before the prejudices in life got into their heads. They were like clean canvases, and she could paint a pretty picture and teach them value, not just numbers and words.
Sarah turned to the stove and faced a pan of the most beautiful enchiladas she’d ever seen. “Oh my God, Chloe, did you cook these? They look incredible.”
“Yes,” Chloe said from behind her. “It’s my father’s recipe. He was such a fan of Mexican food.”
“Patrón shots!” Devon said from behind her, filling four shot glasses.
“You’re going to do a shot too, Lily?” Chloe said.
“Oh, darlin’, yes. I’ll show you how it’s done. These kids were raised around clubs. Where do you think they learned it?”
Devon and Sarah’s eyes met, and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks, feeling an embarrassment that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Her mother bragging about what an awful parent she’d been was too much. Devon shook his head and Sarah understood. He didn’t want a fight tonight. Sarah didn’t want a fight either. She had a new lease on life and fighting with her mother wasn’t part of her plan.
Before they began eating, Devon filled their glasses with margaritas and passed around another full round of shots. Sarah thought maybe he wanted to keep everyone good and tossed to avoid the sour words that she and Lily were so famously good at throwing at each other. But Sarah kept her mouth shut. She wouldn’t fight with her mother tonight.
When their plates were empty and their bellies full, they all stood to clear the table. Sarah couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten so much. She had a new respect for Chloe. Everything tasted excellent.
Devon stood with his plate and said, “Shots!”
“No, I think I’m done for the night.” She tilted her head. “But y’all go ahead.”
“Oh come on, baby,” Lily said. “We don’t get much of a chance to be together, let’s enjoy it.”
Sarah looked at Devon and he held up one finger and mouthed, “One more.”
She nodded. “Just one more.”
As they laid the empty shot glasses down, Lily’s cell phone rang in her pocket. She snatched it up and smiled as she answered. “Hi, sweet girl.”
Sarah stepped over to the sliding glass door and stared out at the rain that had started to fall. She sighed. So much for the nice weather.
“Hayley, tell Sean I said it was okay...no...no, he won’t. Tell him what I said.”
Sarah turned, startled by her mother’s raised voice.
“I’m hanging up, either tell Sean what I said or go home. It’s up to you. I love you. Call me in the morning.” She closed her phone and then dropped it on the table.
“Isn’t it kinda late to be arguing with Hayley?” Sarah asked.
“Oh that girl, she’s spending the night with her boyfriend, and she’s afraid Sean’s going to be pissed at her.”
“What? Mama, she’s only fifteen. Why would that be okay with you?”
“Well, she loves the boy. You know how teenagers are.” She walked toward the sink and said, “Chloe, you cooked, so you don’t get to do the dishes too.”
“Mama, you let Hayley spend the night with her boyfriend?”
“What’s the big deal? You had a boyfriend at her age.”
“How old is this boy? Where are his parents?” Sarah asked.
“He’s in college. He lives in a big house with a bunch of roommates.”
Sarah placed her hands on her hips. “You are letting your fifteen-year-old daughter spend the night with a man? What the hell are you thinking?”
“You were the same at her a
ge. Remember Kevin? Why would I have different rules for her than for you?”
“I was two years older than Hayley, and Kevin was the biggest mistake of my life. Hayley isn’t old enough to make mature decisions yet. What do you know about this boy? He could be abusive or—God, Mama, what if she gets pregnant?”
“Hey—I thought we weren’t going to fight tonight,” Devon said, stepping between them.
“Maybe Hayley is a little smarter than you, Sarah. I’m not going to punish her for your bad choices,” Lily said.
“It’s not punishing her. It’s to protect her.” Sarah felt her heart pound like a base drum inside her chest. “Why aren’t you trying to protect her, Mother?” Sarah’s indignation felt like fire licking the inside of her stomach.
“Do not talk to me like that, Sarah Jean, grown or not, I am still your mother.”
Sarah scoffed. “Mother, huh, yeah.”
Lily took a step back with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Please,” Devon said. “Stop.”
“Now you’re blaming me for your poor choices?” Lily dropped a hand to her hip. “Now it’s my fault things didn’t work out with Kevin?”
“Work out? What the hell are you talking about? Kevin beat me and emotionally abused me.” She felt the tears come as the fire in her stomach rose to her throat.
“He nearly beat me to death. He killed my baby.” Her mother hadn’t been there...she was never there when Sarah needed her.
“If you were any kind of mother you would have protected me. You of all people should have recognized the patterns of abuse!” She fought back the scream in her throat. “He hurt me...and you never noticed because you were too wrapped up in your own life.” Sarah wanted to punch her mother’s blasé face.
“If it was that bad, why didn’t you leave him, Sarah?”
A rush of memories overwhelmed her, things she hadn’t thought about in years. Staring at her mother now, it was so clear to her. Her feelings of never belonging anywhere, always being homesick, but never knowing where her home was.