by Jill Sanders
When she thought about her future, she only envisioned being with Reagan. Anywhere. She didn’t want to face her past or her family without him by her side. Even though they had only known each other a few days, she felt deep down that it was just… right.
Reagan watched Clara stand stiff as her stepmother rushed towards her and hugged her. They had walked in silence up the front steps of the mega mansion her father lived in. When Rebecca Cruz had opened the door instead of Clara’s father, he’d been curious to see how the woman would react.
He’d seen plenty of actors in his past, but something about the woman made it hard for him to read her. The squeal she’d let out had been for show, but the emotions she’d put into holding onto Clara had been real.
“Rebecca, what is…” Clara’s father stepped into the doorway. Reagan watched the man’s face go pale, then he too was holding onto Clara.
“Mr. and Mrs. Cruz.” He broke the silence after a moment.
They released Clara and motioned for them to go inside. He noticed that her father glanced around outside as if to see if anyone had noticed the exchange.
He’d been in the house before, when he’d been hired. Since Gina’s death, Clara’s father had been working strictly from his home office. He’d heard rumors that the man had hardly left the space where his youngest daughter had last been alive. He’d even taken a step back from running his business, leaving his business partner, Henry Knight, to run things instead.
Even though Carlo Cruz had created the massive real estate company, just two years after hitting it big he’d hired the man, which had taken the business to a different level.
As the four of them settled in the living room, he continued to watch Clara’s parents to see how they were dealing with her being back.
Clara, for her part, looked stiff and uncomfortable. He noticed a few times that her eyes darted towards a pair of doors down a long hallway and figured that was her father’s office.
The house was all glass and angles, with windows that looked out over the city lights. There was a massive swimming pool that sat directly outside of a wall of glass doors that were currently open, allowing the evening breeze to cool off the room.
The home was a complete contrast to the one he’d grown up in.
“Please, sit.” Her father motioned to one of the matching white leather sofas facing each other. He sat down and immediately Clara sat beside him.
He desperately wished to reach over and touch her, but they had agreed to their plan and instead he laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on his knees, while her parents took a seat on the opposite sofa.
“Where have you been all this time?” her father asked, concern lacing his voice.
Clara cleared her voice, then glanced at him quickly before answering. “Florida,” she said simply.
He knew she’d spent the last five years jumping around the States but had indeed spent the last year of it in Florida.
“Why?” her stepmother asked. “Why did you leave us?”
“I… needed time to myself. I had to…” Clara shook her head. “I couldn’t…” She glanced towards those doors again. “I can’t…” She jumped up and rushed from the room, heading out the glass wall towards the backyard.
Her father instantly jumped up, but Rebecca stopped him. “No, let me go,” she said softly and then disappeared out the doors.
Being left alone with her father, he decided to get their plan into motion.
“Mr. Cruz, you’ve paid me to find your daughter.” He motioned towards the backyard. “But your daughter has hired me to find out all I can about that night.”
He watched her father’s reaction. He’d expected surprise. What he hadn’t expected was annoyance. He had been sure the man would want to know everything he could about the death of his daughter.
“The police have already gone over everything. There’s nothing else. It’s in the past.” He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Gina is gone. No amount of looking into that night is going to bring my daughter back.” His eyes went to the backyard and changed, filling with love instead. “I need to protect my daughter,” he said softly. “Of course, I’ll pay you for your time, but this ends here.” He stood up and Reagan followed him back into his office to receive his final payment.
It was hard taking the man’s check, especially since what he wanted to do was run outside, gather Clara in his arms, and take her away from this huge mess.
Instead, he tucked the check into his pocket, then allowed himself to be ushered out of the home without even saying goodbye to Clara.
Chapter 12
Clara lay in her own bed for the first time in five years and cried herself to sleep.
Reagan had texted her but so far, she hadn’t replied. Instead, she stared at her screen and thought of how to answer him.
How was she doing? She was alive while Gina wasn’t. It was hard. In the past five years, she’d thought so much of her sister, but being home… She glanced around and ghosts of her sister and the past flooded her mind. She typed:
-I miss you.
Before she could double back, she hit send.
-God, I miss you so much. I wish I could hold you.
-What did my dad say?
When she’d returned inside with Rebecca, Reagan had been gone. Her father had told her that he’d been paid and that his job was over.
She’d told him that she’d hired Reagan to find out about that night.
“I know, he told me.” Her dad had crossed the room and taken her shoulders. It was a move she knew all too well. One that said, I’m in charge and I’ll take care of everything. She wanted to push him away and yell. Instead, she followed Reagan’s plan and allowed her father to shuffle her upstairs and into her bedroom for the night.
-He told me that he didn’t want anyone digging up the past.
-What do you think that means?
She frowned while she waited for his reply.
-I think it means that he wants to protect you.
She let that sink in. Why would he need to protect her? The only reason she could think of was that he thought she had something to do with Gina’s death. Her father believed that she had killed her sister. More tears rolled down her face.
-Clara, he loves you. I’m sure he doesn’t believe… hell, I wish I was there, holding you.
She set her phone down and tucked herself into a ball. She heard it chime with new messages but just couldn’t muster up the strength or the will to open her eyes again.
She woke when someone entered her room. Thinking it was her father, she rolled away.
Instead, strong arms gathered her up and held her while she started crying again. She must be dreaming, she thought. Reagan wasn’t really here.
“I’m here,” he said softly into her ear.
“Reagan?” She jerked back and looked through the darkness into his eyes. He chuckled. “Yeah. For a high-dollar mansion, this place is pretty easy to break into.” He brushed a strand of her hair away from her face.
She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, already feeling more stable than before. “You’re here,” she said again, mainly just to reassure herself.
“I am.” He kissed the top of her head and held her tighter. “I don’t know how I’m going to get out, but for now, I’m here.”
She needed him, needed him to take all of her pain away. Reaching up, she placed her lips over his and relished in the desire that flooded her, feeling his instant flash of hunger, which matched her own.
They tugged at clothes, pulling and pushing until they were both naked. She wanted, no, needed the speed. Pushing on his chest, she forced him to lie back as she climbed onto his hips and slid over him. His groan was low and primitive sounding as she started to move over him. His fingers dug into her hips, guiding her, holding her as she took what she needed. When they moved up to cup her breasts, she leaned in and kissed him until she felt herself slipping.
He rolled slightly, kee
ping their bodies connected as he took over, pumping fast and hard into her until she forgot everything except him. Only then did she allow herself to completely lose control.
“I love you.” The words slipped out as she sank into darkness.
When she woke, Reagan was gone. Seeing her sheets and comforter in disarray confirmed that he had been there. It hadn’t been a dream.
Smiling, she picked up her phone and read his message to her.
-I love you too. You fell asleep before I could say it. I love you. I’ll try to see you today. Be safe. Love you.
She smiled as she read the message over and over again.
Then there was a knock on her door, and everything came crashing back down as memories of where she was and why she was there surfaced. How was she going to make it through the day without Reagan?
Reagan spent the day down at Sunset Dreams Realty, melting into the background. At first, he had posed as a prospective buyer, but after seeing how lax the security was in the building, he just hung around the lobby and wandered around the building.
He was slightly surprised when he found out that Henry Knight was out of the office for the week. When he asked for more information, he was told the man had taken some personal time. He made a mental note to look further into the man when he had his laptop.
Around eleven in the morning, he was slightly surprised to see Rebecca Cruz waltz through the lobby of the building and head towards the bank of elevators.
He wanted to follow her, but she knew who he was, and he didn’t want her to see him. Instead, he watched as her elevator continued up to the top floor where the executive offices were.
He stayed in the lobby and waited for her to come back down. It was almost an hour later and by the looks of it, the woman had been riled up. She was looking very agitated.
Deciding there wasn’t anything more he could learn in the building, he followed her. From there, she drove her white BMW convertible down to Rodeo Drive, where she spent half an hour in Tiffany’s and reappeared with several of their iconic blue bags and a smile on her lips.
From there, she met a girlfriend for lunch. He snapped a few pictures of her and her friend sitting under the umbrellas, sipping their champagne while he snacked on a granola bar he’d found at the bottom of his bag and sipped warm water from a water bottle. He didn’t mind skipping lunch while he was on the job. He’d had plenty of days where he’d gone without anything during his military days.
This time, his mind kept wandering to what Clara was doing. Was she at home still with her father?
Pulling out his phone, he looked down at the last message he’d left her. Since she hadn’t responded, he guessed that she was too busy to respond.
She’d said that she loved him, and he’d told her it in return. He’d never said those words to a woman before, other than family. He didn’t know what came next in the relationship, other than seeing each other more often.
He was following her stepmother out of the restaurant when he heard his phone chime. Waiting until they were stopped at a light, he pulled out his phone.
The message was from a blocked number.
-Leave California
-Who is this? he replied, only to get an instant reply.
-Leave now. This is your last chance.
-I’m not going anywhere, not until I find out who you are and who killed Gina Cruz.
He hit send on the message as the stop light turned green and Rebecca’s BMW took off. He was two cars behind her and tucked his phone back into his pocket as he started to pull through the intersection.
He spotted the truck from the corner of his eye but instantly knew it was too late to avoid the collision. Jerking the wheel of his rental, he pointed his side of the car away from the oncoming truck as metal hit metal. He watched the front left hood take most of the impact instead of his car door. The hood buckled and twisted, giving way to the heavier vehicle.
His vision was blocked when the windshield shattered into a spiderweb of shards before finally bursting inward towards him.
His chest and face hit the airbags as his seatbelt jerked on his shoulder, burning his skin through the T-shirt he was wearing.
He felt his knee hit the dash, then felt his left ankle wedge as the compartment started to close in on him.
He thought of Clara as his car was pushed through the intersection. It finally rested on the curb, pressed against the pole from the stop lights.
He grunted as he tried unsuccessfully to open his door, then yanked off his seatbelt, leaned over, and tried the passenger side. It was twisted and wedged against the pole, locking him in the vehicle.
He glanced around and saw the truck that had hit him back up. For a split second, he thought the thing was going to ram him again, but instead, it sat there, the engine revved, watching him. The windows were tinted so dark that he could only make out a dark form behind the wheel.
Suddenly, it took off, barreling down the road. He would have gotten the license plate, but the spot where one should be was empty. Cursing, he tried his door again, then froze when he noticed the smoke coming from where the hood was twisted and bent over the engine.
Before he could react, flames burst out and the heat of the fire instantly hit him.
He used his shoulder to pound on the door as he heard people screaming for him to get out. Like he didn’t know he was screwed. Both of the car doors were stuck shut due to the impact. His windshield was shattered, and the fire was growing bigger.
Fears of it hitting the gas tank played in his head and, once more, he thought of Clara.
Chapter 13
It had been one of the worst days of her life since the day of her sister’s murder. Shortly after breakfast was served up by a new maid, one that treated her as if she was a child, her stepmother and father disappeared into his office. She heard raised voices and groaned as memories of their many fights surfaced.
Rebecca had played her mother for longer than her real mother had. She’d liked the woman back when she’d been hired to be her and Gina’s nanny.
She’d been there for them after their mother had died. A few years later, both of the sisters had been excited when she’d married their father.
However, shortly after Clara graduated high school and started attending college classes, something had changed. Not just in Rebecca, but in her father as well.
Her dad stopped going into the office every day and chose to spend his days in his home office, alone. This had changed Rebecca as well, since she had been used to having the house to herself and being able to do what she wanted, coming and going. Now it was as if her father made her stepmother account for not only all of her time, but her money as well.
Clara hadn’t wanted to know what was up with them at the time. Instead, she’d immersed herself in school. Then Gina’s graduation had come.
After Rebecca stormed out of the house shortly after the argument, her father stepped out of the one room in the house that Clara was determined never to go back into.
“What do you say to spending the day with your old man?” Her father had smiled and tried to act cheerful, but Clara could see the frustration and hurt behind his eyes.
“I…” She tried to think of an excuse to spend the day alone, but she knew Reagan’s plan and, if it was going to succeed, she needed to spend as much time with her parents as possible. “Sure,” she finished, wishing suddenly she was on a small private beach at a little pond with two wet dogs running around splashing her.
Since her father had no clue what she was into, he dragged her down to the mall to shop. For the past five years, she’d avoided malls or even clothes shopping. Instead, she’d hoarded what little money she had left over every paycheck. Now, as her father dragged her from one store to the next, trying to spend more money on her than she’d seen in a year, she felt a bigger disconnection from him than ever.
Had she really enjoyed this at one point? There had been plenty of shopping trips with Gina and their stepmother, a
nd Clara could honestly say she’d never thought about how much money had exchanged hands.
Hell, her closet and bedroom were still packed with items easily worth what she paid in a year for rent.
They sat in a bistro and were served lunch. While she ate her Cobb salad, she realized she missed Rico’s greasy fries and grilled gulf shrimp.
After, they drove down to her father’s favorite spot along the beach. The drive was nice, but the silence between them stretched on and made the entire ordeal uncomfortable.
She’d asked him about what he’d been doing for the past five years, but when he’d answered with just one-word answers, she’d given up trying.
When they pulled into their long twisting driveway, she had plans to disappear back into her room. But when they entered the house, she was shocked to see a crowd of people in the living room, drinks in their hands as they shouted, “Welcome home!” at her. Instantly, she tensed as she glanced around the room. Here were the people she’d at one time called friends.
Almost every single person smiling at her now had turned their back on her after Gina’s murder. Several had even done television interviews claiming that there had always been something off between the sisters.
She turned to her father as her stepmother rushed over to hug her. Her father smiled over at her as if he expected the surprise to be the greatest gift. Instead, she turned on her heels and, without another word, disappeared up the stairs and locked herself in her room.
She’d heard the gasps and gossip starting before she’d climbed all of the stairs, but she no longer cared.
Flinging herself down on her bed, she pulled out her phone and noticed the text from Reagan.
-I hope your day is going better than mine. I miss you. I’ll try coming to you again tonight. Love you.