“You got a few things wrong, Denver, when you were warning Stella away from me. The government doesn’t hunt down and kill us. We’re too valuable to them. They like us around so we can do jobs for them when they need them done. Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize a sociopath? Stupid move making a decision to go after my woman.”
He couldn’t possibly know. No one knew. “How?” He coughed up blood. That wasn’t a good sign, and every movement hurt.
Sam stood up. “It doesn’t matter.”
“She’ll know you did this,” he choked out.
“I don’t lie to her. In any case, the world is going to know you for what you are. You left behind a detailed account of your superiority—encrypted, of course—on your computer. The world and all your friends need to know how you planned in such detail to be a far better killer than your father and uncle, and you had set the stage so carefully, unlike them.”
Horrified, Denver tried to protest. He would never make such a mistake. Only bubbles of blood and spittle came out of his mouth and trickled down his chin. Shadows slid over him and he looked up at the sky and could only see the blurred images of circling birds, high overhead. Terror mixed with agony.
He coughed again and more blood spewed out. He blinked. Sam wasn’t there. His heart nearly exploded. He despised Sam, but the man couldn’t leave him there to die alone. Had he even been there? Had his mind played tricks on him? No one could have known what he’d planned. He’d been so careful. Taken years to perfect his plans. Found the perfect cover. Everything was going dark and the cough grew worse. He couldn’t get any air and he was choking. Where was Sam?
STELLA SAT ON the end of the pier staring out over the icy, sapphire-colored water, waiting for the sun to rise just as she had every morning for the past week. Seven days Sam had been gone, doing only heaven knew what as payment for favors owed to someone she didn’t want to think about. The promise of snow was in the early morning air. It wasn’t that far off now. She’d handled snow alone many times over the years and she could do it again. She just needed to know Sam was safe. Unfortunately, when he was in the field somewhere, he couldn’t text her and her messages didn’t go to the phone he carried with him—for her safety, not his. At least that was what he’d told her before he left.
The mountain rivers feeding Sunrise Lake were already dumping water into the lake fed by the storms in the mountains. The wind tugged at the few stubborn leaves remaining on the trees overlooking the pier, determined to drag them onto the planks with the rest of the golden and red vegetation.
Waves lapped at the shore and rocks as well as the pier supports, creating a kind of song. She’d always loved listening to the early morning insects, birds and frogs as they called to one another, along with the sound of the water in the background. It always brought peace to her chaotic mind.
She hadn’t slept very well in the last week without Sam, and sitting on the pier, watching the sun come up, helped lessen the strain of fearing for him. Bailey curled close to her, the way he always had, as if nothing had happened to him and he hadn’t endured stab wounds and stitches just a few short weeks earlier.
A hand gripped her shoulder without warning and she nearly threw herself off the pier, but the arm locking around her waist prevented her from going off the edge. She recognized Sam’s touch. Bailey didn’t look up but he wagged his short tail.
Not daring to breathe, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at the man crouching behind her. Sam, she tried to say, but no actual sound came out.
He looked the way he always did— tough, angles and planes, arctic-cold eyes that warmed for her and that bluish jaw that she found terribly attractive. She blinked rapidly to keep tears from her eyes. She cleared her throat several times to remove the large lump threatening to choke her. “You’re back.”
“I’m back, Satine.”
“It was a long week.”
“It was.”
He sat down, sliding his long legs around her, giving her his chest to rest against. Dropping his chin on her shoulder, he locked his arms around her waist. “We don’t need any more excitement around here for a long time, woman.”
She kept her gaze on the lake. The sun was beginning to rise, spilling colors over the water. Today, due to the mist from the breath of snow, the colors were shades of blues and lavenders and purples. It happened rarely, but when it did, the phenomenon was beyond beautiful. Stella had captured the misty rise of the sun on film, but she’d never been able to paint it the way it really looked because the painting didn’t seem real enough.
“As it turned out, man, I was not the reason for the excitement. That was you. In any case, talk has died down in Knightly. I stopped going into town because I didn’t want to talk about serial killers anymore. I think everyone who knew Denver feels that way.” She kept her gaze on the sun rising slowly into the sky. The higher it went, the wider the blues and purples spread across the lake’s surface. “Are you going to have to leave again?”
He nuzzled her hair off her neck with his chin and then kissed her right over her pulse. “No, it was a one-time payback. I asked my former handler for a pretty big favor and in return he asked me to take care of a little problem for him. It took a little longer than I expected, but it’s over and I won’t have to go back for any reason.”
She dropped one of her hands over his. “It wasn’t a little job, or one of his other men would have taken care of it already.”
“That’s true, Stella, but it’s over now, and I’m not going back.”
She was silent, watching the colors expand over the surface of the lake. “You don’t get to trade your life for mine, Sam. Essentially, that was what you were doing. By trading a favor like that, you knew what they were going to ask of you. It was already dangerous enough hunting Denver.”
Sam rubbed his chin on top of her head, the silk of her hair catching in his seven-day growth. “Sweetheart, I’d trade my life for yours every time. Every single time, Stella, so we’re going to keep the drama around here to a minimum.”
She loved Sam. She had to take him the way he was. She tipped her head back and gave him a half smile. “You’re the one with the father wanting to come to holiday dinner and bring his new girlfriend. Dinner is at Shabina’s. She said they could come if you gave the okay. He said three, because he needs his own bodyguard. Shabina’s security wasn’t enough for him. That’s considered drama, isn’t it?”
He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “That’s considered being a male diva. Believe me, Stella, if he moves here, you haven’t seen anything.”
“Maybe having him come to dinner will be a good thing since Denver won’t be with us this year. He can help get us through this first year,” she ventured.
“Oh, he’ll definitely provide the entertainment. He’ll boss everyone and make certain everyone’s attention is entirely centered on him. And his new lady? Once he gets wind of Shabina’s cooking, he might toss his new woman over on the spot and propose.”
Stella laughed, happy with the sun rising over her lake and her friends once again planning a dinner with or without Sam’s father. She thought dinner with his father sounded like a lot of fun though.
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