by Susan Stoker
The officer held up his hand. “I’m sorry. Please continue.”
He didn’t look very sorry, but Nathan hurried on with the story, obviously wanting to get it over with. “We knew Donovan would take one look at me and dismiss me as a threat. Joel and I walked into the house, and he slipped in behind us. While I fought with him, Joel pushed the silent alarm.”
Blake broke in at this point in the story. “Logan and I both got the alarm on our phones, and we immediately called SWAT.”
The detective’s head swung back to Nathan as he picked up the story. “We knew it would take around thirty minutes for anyone to arrive. So we had to stall. Donovan overpowered me, and tied me to a chair. I’d been carrying a pocketknife in my back pocket, just in case. So, I played the pathetic, scared victim, all the while pretending I was still tied securely when in reality I had cut the ropes and was just holding them in place. I let Donovan feel superior and pound on me, hoping to keep his attention away from Bailey and Joel.”
The tears that had been gathering in Bailey’s eyes spilled over. God, it had hurt to see him pleading with Donovan.
She put her head on the table and cried silently. Without stopping his story, Nathan put his arm around her shoulders, and scooted closer to her, holding her as she wept.
“Joel was the key to taking out Donovan as a threat. I think it was Logan who suggested ammonia and bleach.”
The detective looked surprised. “What?”
“He knew all about chlorine gas from his time in the Army,” Nathan said without emotion. “So Joel and I practiced mixing the chemicals. When we had it down, we put bottles of bleach and ammonia under the bathroom sinks in my house and Bailey’s,” Nathan explained.
“So what happened?” the detective asked.
“Joel asked to use the restroom. When he was in there, he plugged up the sink, poured in the bleach and ammonia. Then did the same in the toilet, and left, closing the door behind him.”
“Jesus,” the cop swore softly.
Nathan nodded. “He walked back into the living room where Donovan was trying to rape Bailey. He wanted Joel to watch. Luckily, I’d long since cut myself loose of the ropes, and I jumped him. I was trying to push Donovan down the hall to get him into the bathroom, but he walloped me pretty good, and I was weakening. Bailey came to the rescue and cut him, not to kill, but to distract. It worked. We got him into the bathroom and made sure he stayed there until he was incapacitated.”
“Then we showed up,” Blake said succinctly.
“And SWAT,” Logan added helpfully.
“And the ambulance,” Blake said.
The detective looked from one man to the other, then his eyes went to Bailey, who had finally lifted her head. She was clutching Nathan as if he would be ripped out of her arms at any moment.
Finally, the officer said, “Donovan’s in critical condition at Denver Regional Hospital. The doctors think he has chemical pneumonia, which is incurable. If the paramedics had been even five minutes later, he would’ve drowned from the fluid in his lungs.”
Bailey flinched and finally spoke. “Everything we did was in self-defense. Donovan was about to rape me in front of my boyfriend and little brother. Then he was most likely going to take a blowtorch and try to remove the tattoo he had inked in my skin. I believe he’s been doing drugs since he got out of prison.”
The officer nodded and remarked, “Toxicology showed that he did have heroin in his bloodstream. It’s not helping him now.”
“Please,” Bailey whispered, “I knew he’d be coming for me. He wasn’t going to let me leave him. He flat out told me that more than once. I knew if he found me, he’d kill me. It was my idea to lock him in the bathroom. I didn’t know the gas would kill him, but I knew it would slow him down and give me a chance to escape.”
She ignored the insanely tight grip Nathan had on her hand below the table and kept speaking. “If he dies, and you should charge someone, charge me. It’s my fault. I was the one who dated him. I was the one who left him, and I was the one he came for.”
The vibe in the room was electric. Bailey didn’t dare glance at Nathan, who she knew was glaring at her. Not to mention Logan and Blake. They definitely weren’t happy. But she’d be damned if she let any of the Andersons take the fall for Donovan. It was time she stepped up and made the right decision for once in her life.
The detective heaved a huge sigh, then said, “It’s more than obvious what happened in your house tonight was self-defense. The evidence at the scene corroborates what you said. I’m not saying you did the right thing, but it was effective. We found Donovan’s car about a mile down Wolfensberger Road. He had a blowtorch, more rope, a shovel, a box of garbage bags, lye, and a map.”
“What the fuck?” Logan breathed at the same time Blake said, “Jesus!”
Nathan didn’t say a word, but when Bailey glanced at him, his jaw was ticking as if he was clenching his teeth.
The detective continued. “We believe his plan was to kill you, then bury you up in the mountains. Then take your brother back to Denver with him and do as you said—make him an Inca Boy.”
Bailey met the man’s eyes steadily. She was afraid to hope.
“From what you’ve said here tonight, and from what we’ve learned from the Denver PD Gang Task Force, you’re lucky to be alive. I ask that you don’t leave town and make yourself accessible when we need to speak with you. The DA will be in touch.”
Bailey closed her eyes and sighed. She knew she wasn’t exactly off the hook, but as long as she didn’t have go to jail over someone like Donovan, she’d be okay. She turned to Nathan and threw her arms around him.
His arms immediately tightened around her waist, and he held her to him.
“Are they free to go then?” Logan asked. “It’s been a long night, and we all could use some sleep.”
“Of course. If we need to contact you tomorrow, I have your number.”
“We’ll be at my house in case you need to see us,” Nathan volunteered.
The officer nodded, then stood. “I’m sorry about everything you’ve been through.”
“Thanks,” Nathan said, nodding as he stood, still holding Bailey in his arms.
Blake and Logan shook the officer’s hand while Nathan led Bailey to get her brother. They were battered and bruised, but safe.
Later that night, as Bailey lay in Nathan’s arms, she turned her neck to look at her brother, who was sound asleep on her other side. They’d all piled into Nathan’s king-size bed, none of them wanting to be away from the other. It had been a close call; they all knew it.
“I’m free,” Bailey whispered into Nathan’s ear.
He didn’t respond with words, but the kiss on her temple and the way he squeezed her waist was all the response she needed.
Epilogue
“You feel all right?” Nathan asked for the tenth time that afternoon. He knew he was being overprotective, but Bailey had just gone through a four-hour session in a tattoo chair earlier, and she had to be hurting.
The day after Donovan had passed away, Felicity had taken her down to Colorado Springs to talk with the tattoo artist she’d recommended.
The tattooist had taken one look at the awful words on Bailey’s back and curled her lip. She’d looked Bailey in the eye and swore, “I’m gonna make this the most kick-ass tattoo you’ve ever seen. And it’s on the house.”
Bailey had protested, but the woman hadn’t budged.
Today wasn’t the first time she’d had the tattoo worked on, and it wouldn’t be the last either. The words Donovan had tried to brand her with were gone, transformed into swirls and shading of three mountain peaks. There was the start of a brilliant sunset behind the mountains, and, at Bailey’s request, there were small birds that matched the ones Grace and Logan had inked on their skin.
“I’m fine, Nathan. Seriously,” Bailey said with a smile.
They were sitting on the bleachers in the Castle Rock gym watching Joel’s robotic team c
ompete. In the three months that followed their ordeal, Joel had continued to see the psychologist, who said he was coping remarkably well, most likely because he’d had a part in helping save his sister. With Nathan’s prodding, he’d tried out for the robotic team. To everyone’s surprise, he’d excelled at it, earning a spot on the middle-school team.
Bailey had experienced nightmares for weeks, but it had been more than a month since she’d woken up screaming Nathan’s name in terror.
Nathan grimaced, remembering how helpless he’d felt when he couldn’t make her nightmares stop, but when she snuggled into him so quickly and trustingly, it soothed that ache. It didn’t hurt that not a day went by that they didn’t say they loved each other.
I love you fell from her lips as easily as it did his. And last night, for the first time, Joel had told Nathan he loved him.
Bailey had made her views on marriage quite clear. She didn’t think she had to get the government’s permission to officially tie herself to someone she loved. Nathan didn’t care. As long as she loved him, and he loved her, he didn’t need the paper. He’d already changed all his documents listing her as his next of kin. He didn’t have the heart to tell Bailey that, according to the state of Colorado, they were as good as married.
She’d find out the first time they needed to pay their income taxes that they had a common-law marriage and could file as married for their taxes. Since they lived together, people believed they’d eloped and gotten married since they both wore a ring, and had certainly consummated the relationship.
Nathan smiled to himself. Bailey was his. He had one more surprise for her today. One he hoped she’d like. Getting back to the topic at hand—namely, if her back was hurting after the work she’d had done on it today, he asked, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. But thank you for caring.”
He smiled tenderly at her. “I more than care, pixie.”
Nathan knew they didn’t exactly match. Bailey with her dark hair and bright tattoos on her arms, and him a tall, slender geek, but he didn’t care. Bailey loved him. He loved her. That was all that mattered.
A loud cheer went up in the bleachers around them, and they both whipped their heads back to the competition. Joel’s team was high-fiving each other and smiling. Their robot sat motionless in the center of a circle surrounded by what was obviously the parts of their competitor’s robot.
Bailey leaped to her feet and cheered along with the other parents around them. Nathan kept one hand on the back of one of her thighs to hold her steady and beamed down at Joel. When Bailey sat down again, she leaned over and said into his ear, “Guess all those video games were good for something, huh? He’s got a mean competitive streak.”
Nathan smiled back at her and kissed her quickly. “I’d say so,” he told her, still smiling.
“What are you all smiley about?” Bailey asked suspiciously. “What are you hiding from me?”
Figuring this was as good a time as any, and not able to keep the surprise to himself any longer, Nathan reached behind him and pulled out his driver’s license. He handed it to Bailey without a word.
Her brows furrowed in confusion as she looked down at the plastic card in her hand. “I don’t understand. What’s the big—”
Her words cut off suddenly as she saw what he’d done.
“Since you felt it was disrespectful to your pa, and to Joel, to change your last name to Anderson . . . I decided that as a nonwedding gift to you, I’d change mine. As much as I loved my dad, being one of three Anderson triplets hasn’t always been a walk in the park. I’ve been compared to them my entire life, and through no fault of their own, always felt as if I didn’t measure up. I thought that becoming a Hampton would be kinda cool.”
Her eyes met his and were filled with shock. Her hand came up and covered her mouth as her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears.
Nathan put his palms on the sides of her neck and speared his fingers into her hair. “I love you, Bailey. The best day of my life was when you took pity on me and my poor car and helped me out. No, the best day was when you let me spend the day with you and Joel on his birthday. No”—he shook his head—“the best day was when you lay in my arms and whispered that you were free. We can’t look back; we can only look forward. And the only thing I want to look forward to is a long life with you at my side. Do you mind that I’m now Nathan Hampton?”
“Mind?” she asked incredulously before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. “I’m blown away. Flabbergasted. Shocked. Excited. Thrilled.” She leaned back, keeping her hands locked together behind him. “I love you. You couldn’t have given me a better nonmarriage gift. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, pixie.”
“I have something for you too,” she said coyly, a smirk on her face.
He couldn’t help it, his erection pulsed with excitement as he asked, “Yeah?”
“Yeah. But it’ll have to wait until tonight. After Joel is asleep.”
“Does my present have anything to do with you being naked on our bed and letting me have my wicked way with you?”
“Maybe,” she drawled, then got serious. “I didn’t know I needed a man like you until you pestered your way into my life. You were content to be nothing more than my friend, when I needed a friend the most. Thank you for being patient. Thank you for loving Joel as much as you do. And thank you for making me the luckiest woman in the world.”
They smiled at each other, ignoring the couples around them, ignoring the next heat of competition starting on the gym floor in front of them, content to simply be with each other.
The next day, a man stepped out of his sleek, black Mustang and calmly walked down the sidewalk in downtown Castle Rock. More than one person did a double take when they saw him. He was a little over six feet tall, with light-brown hair. He had a heavy five-o-clock shadow on his jaw, hiding his full lips. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt. Even though he wore steel-toed boots on his feet, his steps were almost silent. He was a man on a mission, and no one wanted to get between him and whatever he was focused on.
He stopped outside Ace Security and seemed to hesitate. He shoved one hand into a front pocket of his jeans, and the other clenched into a fist at his side. Ten minutes later, he was still standing there.
Grace Mason walked up beside him and said softly, “If you stand there much longer, you’ll grow roots.”
Obviously startled by her presence, the man turned his head and nodded. “Mornin’.”
“Good morning. Going in?”
“Yup.”
“Great. Me too.”
And with that, the man moved. He reached for the door and held it open. He gestured for Grace to enter ahead of him. He took another deep breath and followed her in.
“Logan!” Grace called. “Someone’s here!”
Seconds later, Logan came out of the back room, which held their offices, and greeted the man.
“Hello, welcome to Ace Security. I’m Logan Anderson. How can I help you?”
“My name is Ryder Sinclair. But my friends call me Ace.”
The silence was so thick in the air, the man knew he’d be able to hear a pin drop. He continued. “My mother’s name was Patricia Sinclair, and I’m your half brother. Ace Anderson was my father.”
“Fuck,” Logan whispered. He sized up the man in front of him, then said, “I’d like to blow you off. Tell you to not let the door hit you on the ass on your way out, but I can’t deny the resemblance. I assume you have proof?”
“I have proof,” Ace said with a nod of his head.
“Grace? Lock the door. We’re closing early today. I’ll call Blake and Nathan. Looks like we’re having a family reunion.”
Later that night, Felicity ignored the ringing of her phone. She knew it would probably be Grace, again. She’d called earlier with the news that Ace Anderson had apparently had an affair, and the result of that dalliance had strolled into town wanting to talk to hi
s half brothers. As much as Felicity wanted to know more about what was going on, she had more important things on her mind at the moment. She knew going to Chicago earlier in the year had been a mistake, but she’d done it anyway. She sat on her twin-size bed in her small apartment and stared off into space. She didn’t seem to be aware that she hadn’t turned any lights on and she was sitting in the dark. She was lost in her memories of a time she’d tried to desperately put behind her.
Felicity couldn’t see the letter she’d read hours earlier, now lying facedown on the floor in front of the bed, but the words on the plain sheet of paper mocked the progress she’d made over the years. Mocked the safety she’d just begun to feel with her friends in Castle Rock. Everything she’d worked for had crumbled with the words. Every iota of peace she’d fought for, every memory she’d banished from her mind, came back in Technicolor.
Hey, sweetheart. Did you think you could get away from me? I told you I was an expert at Hide and Go Seek, but you just never learn. I’ll be seeing you soon.
Acknowledgments
Sometimes writing can seem like a solitary job, but in reality, there are a ton of people behind the scenes. I want to give a shout-out to Elle James, Beth Neal, Chas Jenkins-Patrick, Marie Brown, and every blogger who has picked up the books in this series and let me know how much they’ve enjoyed them.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my Montlake editors as well. Melody Guy has had nothing but wonderful suggestions for tightening up and tweaking my stories, and Maria Gomez has always been supportive and encouraging as we go through the process.
And finally, to every one of my readers, you’re the best. I know this series came out of the blue, but you embraced it and ultimately loved it. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.
About the Author
Photo © 2015 A&C Photography
Susan Stoker is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author who loves hot alpha heroes. She debuted her first series in 2014, and quickly followed it up with her SEAL of Protection series and her Ace Security series, which includes Claiming Grace and Claiming Alexis. She is addicted to writing and creating stories readers can lose themselves in.
