Home to Me

by Bybee, Catherine

  Both, she decided.

  She padded around her small home and made a cup of coffee. Because the night had cooled off, the windows were open to let the air in. Jasmine bloomed in a hedge outside her kitchen and added a fragrant scent to the air.

  After turning on her radio, and overfilling her coffee with cream, she walked outside in her nightgown and sat under the pergola by the pool. She loved the open space and quiet mornings before the world woke up. Funny, she’d lived on large properties before. Estates with manicured lawns and help, but none were this peaceful.

  Her father’s home was lacking emotion, and her marital home was a giant nerve she tiptoed around.

  This home, the one she was making for herself, she was finding herself. She really hoped nothing was going to mess that up.

  From down the street, she heard the roar of Matt’s motorcycle and stayed in the chaise she was perched on as he drove up.

  She crossed her legs at her ankles and hiked her nightgown up above her knees.

  He took his helmet off, placed it on his handlebars, and turned her way.

  The smile she was expecting wasn’t quite as wide as she’d hoped. “Did we have a morning date?” she asked.

  Now his grin grew and his eyes traveled her body from head to toe. “If this is your morning look when I’m not around, then count on me every day.”

  He sauntered her way, dropped his hands on both sides of her hips, and leaned in for a kiss.

  “Mmmm, good morning to you, too,” she hummed.

  He pulled back, placed a hand on her cheek, and kissed her again. This time with an open mouth and a sigh of his own.

  When he’d drunk his fill, he straddled her chair and placed her feet over one of his thighs.

  “Did you want some coffee?” she asked.

  “No. I had some at the station.”

  He stroked her leg and slowly lost his smile.

  Much as she tried to keep the one he’d placed on her lips just by being there, she felt the air shifting. “What is it? Did you have a bad night at work?”

  He shook his head.

  She sat forward, put her coffee aside. “What is it, Matt?”

  Twice he opened his mouth to talk, twice he shook his head.

  “I need to tell you something, but I need something from you first.”

  Erin was having a hard time getting a read on him. “If you were the girl, I’d swear you were going to tell me you’re pregnant.”

  That had him grinning.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “You know I do.”

  He waved a hand between them. “Do you think we have a good thing going here? Like maybe we have a future?”

  Now she was really confused. “Everything about us has been fabulous. As for a future . . . I mean, when things are good they keep going and when they aren’t they end. You know I’m not in a place to offer more commitment than we have right now.”

  Matt shook his head. “I’m not going about this right. For the first time in forever I feel a real connection with someone, you, and I’m scared to death you’re going to run away.”

  She covered his hand with hers. “Matt, why would I run . . .” And then it hit her. The only reason she would run. “Desmond.” When he didn’t immediately deny the sheer mention of her ex, she panicked. “What do you know?”

  “The brake lines weren’t an accident or a recall. I had a friend at the sheriff’s station take a look. They were cut, Erin. The first thing Ty asked was who had a grudge.”

  The back of her throat constricted, and suddenly she felt entirely exposed, half naked and lounging by the pool. All the while in the back of her mind, she knew this was going to happen. Suspected it at the first mention of her brake problem being an anomaly.

  Matt watched as she absorbed the information.

  She needed to leave. That’s why Matt was talking the way he was. He knew.

  “Running isn’t the answer,” Matt said. Both hands were on her knees and squeezing.

  “So I sit back and wait for him to slice something better next time?”

  “First”—he held up a finger—“we need to talk to this lawyer of yours. The one who said he was in Greece. She helped you get away from him before, right?”

  “Yes.” I need to pack.

  “She knows everything, right?”

  I don’t have a car.

  “Erin?”

  “What?”

  “She knows everything, right?”

  “Yes . . . no. She doesn’t know where I am.”

  “Really?”

  “No. We used a complicated paper trail so Desmond couldn’t track it.” She swung her feet off Matt’s lap. “I went through a lot of effort so he could never find me. How the hell did he find me?”

  Matt followed her into the house. “What are you doing?”

  She didn’t know where to start. Just the essentials.

  “Erin?”

  She twisted around and yelled. “What?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m panicking, Matt. I need to go.” Just saying that made her want to weep. “I don’t want to. But he won’t stop until I’m dead.” Her gaze fell to the bandages on her arms. “He did this. He could have killed all of us.” She twisted again. “Oh, God.”

  “Erin, please. Let’s talk about this logically. You’re reacting and not thinking clearly. What if he wants you to run so he can get you alone?”

  “Then at least he won’t hurt anyone else.”

  It was Matt’s turn to panic. “No. I won’t let that happen.” He walked up and grabbed her arms. It was the first time he’d ever touched her with anything less than gentle hands. All she had to do was look at his hands and he flexed his fingers and softened his hold. “You have people here who can help you. We need facts. Is he here in the valley or did he send someone to do this for him? If it was someone else, you won’t even know who to watch out for if you leave.”

  His words started to clear the fog.

  Matt kept talking. “If he is here, and we have proof that your brakes were vandalized, then we get your lawyer to slap another restraining order on him. We have police confirmation of foul play and an accident report. We might even have probable cause to bring him in for questioning.”

  “He has a lot of money, Matt. He won’t be in jail for long, if at all.”

  Matt pushed into her personal space. “Please don’t run. I can’t protect you out there. But here, with all the people I know, those my dad knows . . . Colin’s team. Doesn’t that sound like a better chance than you out there alone?”

  “I don’t know, Matt.”

  “If your logic is to leave so he can’t hurt those you care about, he already knows they exist and will hold that against you. Isn’t that why your sister doesn’t know where you are?”

  Matt was right. Could she forgive herself any less if Parker was hurt, or Mallory, Austin? Any of them? Erin leaned against the arm of her sofa.

  Matt knelt in front of her. “Let’s call your lawyer.”

  Erin found herself nodding, and Matt reached around her and dropped his head in her lap.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Matt waited while Erin showered and then handed her a second cup of coffee while they sat in her living room.

  With her cell phone in front of them, she made the call.

  He held her hand in his and watched every emotion wash over her face.

  “Hello, Renee.”

  “How are you? It’s great to hear your voice. Did you try that beet juice I told you about?” The attorney’s voice was like a cheerleader. Upbeat and timed as if she were chanting. And what was up with the beets?

  “I’m . . . it’s not good. And yes, I did.”

  In an instant, Renee’s voice dropped an octave. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

  Erin glanced at Matt.

  “You know the man I was telling you about?”

  “Oh, please don’t tell me he ended up being a douche.”
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br />   Erin smiled for the first time in the last hour and looked at him.

  Matt pointed a finger to his chest and mouthed, Me?

  “No . . . he’s a pretty amazing man. You would definitely approve.”

  “Oh, so what, then?”

  “He’s sitting right here, actually. I have the phone on speaker.”

  Renee was silent.

  Matt looked at the phone. “Did she hang up?”

  “What about the coconut water . . . did you like that?” Renee asked.

  “Yes, Renee. I did. I’m okay. Well, right now. I told Matt everything.”

  “You what?”

  “He knows about Desmond.”

  “Hoookay, and you called to tell me that?”

  Erin swallowed hard and had a difficult time finding the right words so Matt jumped in.

  “Hello, Renee. Listen. We need to know if Desmond is in Greece. Actually we need to know if anyone knows exactly where he is right now.”

  “Why?”

  Erin found her voice. “Because he found me.”

  “God no, Maci. Are you sure?”

  Matt turned his head, narrowed his eyes. “Maci?”

  Erin waved him off. “Someone sliced holes in my brake lines . . .” For the next five minutes, she explained to her attorney what had happened.

  “Are you absolutely sure this was foul play?” Renee asked when Erin finished her story.

  “Yes,” Matt answered. “If we can prove Desmond is in town, can we get a restraining order again?”

  “We can ask for one, but if he isn’t home or at work to receive it . . .”

  Erin closed her eyes. “What do I do, Renee? Do I disappear again?”

  “If he knows your new name and your location, then we need to start at zero. There’s no point in leaving until we have those things in place.”

  Matt found himself panicked all over again.

  “And until we’re absolutely sure this is Desmond, don’t tell me where you are or your name. Just in case you’re wrong.”

  “What about a police report?” Erin asked.

  “The first thing the authorities are going to ask is if you have a name. You give them Desmond’s name and if he doesn’t know where you are, you’ll be handing yourself over. If we can prove he’s close, then yes. Give me twenty-four hours, Maci. Don’t go anywhere. If I have news sooner, I’ll call.”

  “Do you think I’m wrong?”

  Renee paused. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Desmond’s unreachable and you start having problems. Remember one thing. He’s a coward. He preys upon you when no one is looking. If he’s reduced himself to slicing up cars, then he’s getting desperate.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “Is your firefighter still there?” Renee asked.

  “I’m here,” Matt told her.

  “Don’t leave her alone. Desmond is smart, charismatic, and has a way of making people believe whatever lies he spins. He’s a true narcissist that believes his own shit. He won’t confront you. He’ll be the one who gets you to make the first move and then play victim. And, Maci?”

  Erin . . . who apparently had changed her name from Maci . . . glanced at him before answering. “Yes?”

  “Have you shared a picture of Desmond to your new friends?”

  Erin looked away. “No.”

  “Now might be a good time. I’ll call tomorrow. Nine in the morning my time.”

  “Thank you, Renee.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Where the hell are you?”

  Desmond pulled his cell phone away from his ear, looked at it as if it were a foreign object, and put it back. “Excuse me?”

  “Listen, Brandt, you pay me to be your divorce attorney, and I agreed to deal with the restraining order as it applied to the basis in which your wife asked for the divorce. However . . . and this is a big however . . . I’m not a criminal defense attorney. So let me ask you this question one more time. Where the hell are you?”

  “I told you I’m in Greece.” Desmond looked out his hotel window onto a golf course in Valencia.

  “What time is it there?”

  He flexed his fingers. “Is this the goddamn Spanish Inquisition?”

  “Simple question.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Attorney-client privilege works really well for shit you did, but it won’t cover my ass if you’re about to commit a crime.”

  “What’s this about, Schwarz?”

  “Maci’s attorney is filing an emergency restraining order.”

  Just knowing he’d gotten under her skin made him smile. “On what basis?”

  “Attempted murder.”

  Desmond couldn’t help it, he laughed. “That’s a stretch.” He reached for his medicine and popped a pill in his mouth.

  “Give me proof you’re in Greece and I can make this go away.”

  “Fine.” He took a swig of water . . . shook his head.

  His attorney paused. “You have proof?”

  “I’ll get it to you.”

  “I need it now, Desmond.”

  “Is that all, Schwarz? I have a date.”

  Schwarz cussed under his breath. “At one in the morning? Because that’s what time it is in Greece right now.”

  “You’re beginning to annoy me. I’m going to hang up, and you’re going to do your job. You tell that bitch that’s representing my wife that I have assured you I’m out of the country. And if slanderous accusations of my character surface, I’ll be forced to sue my wife in order to sustain my good standing in the community.” Desmond didn’t wait for Schwarz to comment. He hung up.

  “His name is Desmond Brandt. And he’s my husband.”

  Matt peered at the image Erin had brought up on her computer. So many things caught him at the same time.

  First, this wasn’t a picture that she had in her files but rather an image she pulled off the internet. A picture from the society pages of the Chicago Tribune.

  Second, Erin looked like a completely different person than the one in the images she clicked through.

  Third, she was more beautiful now.

  “My name has been legally changed from Maci Brandt to Erin Fleming. My social security, driver’s license, passport—everything—is legal.”

  Matt glanced over to his brother. They’d called for a family meeting . . . well, one for the immediate people involved, which in this case was Colin, Parker, Austin, and Mallory. And since Mallory was living with Jase . . . Jase was there. Matt had called Grace, but she hadn’t picked up. He left a voice mail asking her when was a good time to meet at their parents’. This disclosure of the truth was a trial run. Erin asked that they get through this round and then move to his parents the next day. Considering it was his mom’s bunco night and Dad was elbow deep in poker with a bunch of retired law enforcement, he deemed them safe.

  “Desmond was—is—a dangerous man. I’m ashamed to say that I stayed with him even though he was responsible for . . .” Her words trailed off, and tears began to swell behind her eyes.

  Matt reached over and took her hand in his.

  “. . . for many broken bones and shattered dreams. I was too frightened to leave and too scared to stay. He threatened to hurt anyone I loved if I left. So when I did, I cut all ties. My sister has no idea where I am or who I’ve become. My father . . . no one. I moved here because this city is large enough to get lost in and small enough to feel comfortable.”

  Erin looked around the room. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I hate that I’ve lied about anything. But I truly had no choice. The people that helped me escape this man gave me a blueprint of how I was supposed to behave. What I was supposed to say. I’ve stuck to that as much as I could to protect you and me.”

  Colin met Matt’s gaze.

  “So why tell us now?” Colin asked.

  “Because I think—”

  “We think,” Matt interrupted.

  Erin tried to smile.

  “We think
Desmond is in town. Or at least knows where I’m at. I need you to know what he looks like so that if you’ve seen him or anyone like him, you know to stay away.”

  “How dangerous is he?” Colin asked.

  Erin looked around the room and physically recoiled.

  Matt spoke for her. “The leaky brake lines on her car weren’t an accident.”

  Colin swore, and Parker placed a hand on Erin’s arm.

  Matt explained what Ty had told him to offer weight to Erin’s concern.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I left Chicago, spent time in Washington State, and then came here in the hopes of avoiding this.”

  “Soooo, what exactly does this have to do with us?” Austin asked.

  “He told me he would hurt the people I loved to get to me. And I care very deeply for everyone in this room. It would gut me if he hurt any of you.”

  Matt noticed Colin shifting in his chair. “Erin’s attorney told us to show his picture to everyone. Have any of you seen him?”

  The room filled with affirmative nos.

  Parker, God love her, sat back and huffed. “What exactly does he think he’s going to gain by hurting any of us? This guy”—she pointed to the forgotten computer screen—“looks like he has a lot to lose if he’s caught slicing up someone’s brake lines. Does he really think you’ll come running back if he threatens us?”

  Erin paused.

  Nausea rose in Matt’s throat.

  “I’ll do whatever I have to. And make him stop,” Erin said.

  Parker moved forward in her chair and looked Erin straight in the eye. “That’s Maci talking. Whoever the hell she was. Erin . . . the woman I’ve known for almost a year, she’s spent a lot of time empowering herself and taking control in her life. This . . . this douchebag thinks he can come in and screw with this family? I don’t think so.”

  Parker squeezed Erin’s hand, and Colin looked Matt in the eye. “We need to talk to Dad.”

  “I know,” Matt said.

  “Love, greed, notoriety, revenge, or a severe case of mental illness . . . or a combination of all. Those are the motivations of the kind of man you’re describing. That’s what Dad always says.” Colin repeated what they’d been told their entire life. Anytime they’d watched TV and witnessed the truly evil, their father would calmly, and pragmatically, explain the motivation of why people turned bad.