by Elle Kennedy
Twigs crackled, and then Bianca appeared, her pistol aimed at Chloe’s forehead. The older woman didn’t speak, just slanted her head and appraised Chloe, those shrewd eyes sweeping up and down, side to side.
She swallowed. “How did you find me? Did Felix call you?”
“Felix? Heavens, no. I saw your whore face in a tabloid magazine,” Bianca answered with a derisive snort. “Imagine my surprise, seeing my daughter-in-law right there in the pages of my gossip rag, tending to an injured actress when she’s supposed to be dead.”
Chloe furrowed her brows. Tabloid magazine? Injured actress? The only actress she’d had contact with since faking her death was Violet Chastain, but how—
The answer flew into her head like a gust of wind. After Violet’s attack, Chloe had been wheeling the actress out of Derek’s clinic. Tate and Emma had warned them there might be photographers hanging around, and clearly one had snapped their picture that day.
And since Bianca read every celebrity and beauty magazine ever published, it was no wonder she’d come across the photograph. Bianca was obsessed with appearances; Chloe had frequently witnessed the woman marking up pictures of starlets’ faces and ordering Felix to do the same thing to her.
As understanding dawned, Chloe met Bianca’s gaze. “Wait a minute. You’re the one who was sending me those presents?”
Bianca rolled her eyes. “Who else would it be, darling?”
Oh, God. Bianca. Not Felix. Derek’s doubts hadn’t been unfounded, after all. Felix’s shock over seeing her at the warehouse had truly been genuine. He hadn’t known Chloe was alive.
“But…why?” She shook her head. “Why torture me? And why the hell are you holding a gun to me now?”
“You actually have to ask why? You ruined my son’s life!” Bianca replied harshly. “You hooked him into marriage and made his life miserable.”
“Me?” Outrage slammed into her. “Your son was the one who beat me. Your son was the one who scarred me!” She gestured wildly at her face, despite the makeup covering the scar.
Bianca just laughed. “You deserved that, you stupid whore. Flirting with other men in front of your husband? What kind of self-respecting woman does that?”
Chloe gawked at her mother-in-law. Did the woman actually believe her own words? From the molten rage burning in those green eyes, clearly she did believe it. Lord, the woman was out of her mind. Utterly certifiable.
Bianca’s hand trembled as she glared at Chloe, but on her face not a single muscle moved. Too many cosmetic procedures had frozen those facial muscles, leaving Bianca with only a handful of expressions, anger and distaste being her most prominent ones.
“So what now? You’re going to kill me?” Chloe asked, warily eyeing the gun in Bianca’s hand.
“Killing you is the only way to get you out of my son’s life.”
A laugh flew out of Chloe’s mouth. “I was already out of his life! Jesus, Bianca, I faked my death.” Chloe’s laughter got louder, a stitch forming in her side. “You got what you wanted, you idiot! I was gone.”
“And you would’ve come crawling back,” Bianca spat out. “You’re pathetic, Chloe. Weak. You need my son. You can’t live without him. The moment I realized you were alive, I knew I had to take care of you once and for all. I stayed out of it during your wretched marriage—”
She snorted at the bald-faced lie.
“—and I kept my mouth shut because my son asked me to. He was under your spell, but the spell was finally broken when you died. Felix and I had never been closer,” Bianca revealed in a haughty voice.
Chloe wanted to gag. “You’re sick, Bianca.”
“And you’re pathetic. I knew you’d come back eventually, begging him to take you back.”
“So you decided to send me a bunch of sick presents to scare me?”
“To watch you squirm,” Bianca corrected. “But I got bored of that. Now, I just want you gone. You’re never going to bother Felix again. You won’t get anywhere near him.”
She laughed again. “Neither will you, seeing as he’s in jail.”
“What did you say?”
Chloe shot her a pointed stare, but Bianca’s blank expression didn’t change. A startled breath left Chloe’s mouth as it dawned on her. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” her mother-in-law asked suspiciously.
“Felix is in jail, Bianca. Your perfect, precious son is in jail.”
* * *
Derek exited Philadelphia General with a bittersweet smile on his face. He’d just left Clara and Burt Watson with their tiny baby girl cradled in the new mom’s arms. Five pounds, six ounces. A month premature but healthy and beautiful and already the apple of her parents’ eyes.
As happy as he was for the couple, seeing the newborn had reminded Derek of the baby he’d lost, the one Tess had taken from him when she’d driven their car over that bridge.
It ate at his insides that he’d never definitively know why Tess had died. If she’d known about their baby when the car sailed over the bridge. If she’d hit the water by accident or with the knowledge that she was finally putting herself out of her own misery.
But one thing Derek did know—Chloe would never have done that to him.
He knew it with the utmost certainty, with not a shred of doubt in his mind. Chloe had fought hard for her babies, desperate to keep them, devastated to lose them. And no matter how many times Felix knocked her down during their marriage, she’d stumbled back to her feet. She hadn’t let the depression consume her the way Tess had. No, Chloe had battled her demons and come out swinging.
Derek froze in his tracks as the realization truly sunk in.
Chloe wasn’t Tess. She would never be Tess.
And another eye-opener was that he’d spent the past two years thinking that he’d disappointed Tess, but it had been the other way around. Tess had disappointed him. She’d taken the love he’d offered and thrown it back in his face.
The same way he’d done to Chloe earlier.
Shame constricted his heart. She’d told him she loved him, and what had he done? Stared at her like an idiot, then said they’d finish the conversation later.
What the hell was the matter with him?
As he strode across the parking lot, Derek whipped out his phone, needing to hear Chloe’s voice. Needing to assure her that he was on his way back and finally, finally ready to talk about how he felt.
When he flipped open the phone, he discovered that Chloe had beat him to it. The missed call display revealed her cell number, and a message icon flashed on the screen.
Derek dialed his voicemail and punched in the pass code.
A second later, Chloe’s voice filled the line.
“Hey, it’s me. If I’m not at the house when you get back, don’t freak out. I went for a drive. I needed a quiet place to think.”
Unlocking the driver’s door of his car, he listened to the rest of the message with half an ear. Chloe’s voice took on a distracted note, but it wasn’t until she gasped that Derek grew worried. He heard her say “Oh, God” and then a clatter filled the line, as if she’d dropped the phone.
His back stiffened with worry, which only intensified when he heard a husky, unfamiliar voice, a woman’s voice, mingled with the sound of footsteps and the soft hiss of the wind. When he made out the words “Start walking” he sprung to action.
Panic slicing into his gut, he started the engine and peeled out of the visitor’s parking lot.
Chloe was in danger. He knew it with a certainty that cut right to the bone.
His foot shook on the gas pedal as he sped away from the hospital. It would take him thirty minutes to get back to town, half that time if he ignored the speed limit and took the toll route instead of the interstate.
Focusing on
driving proved difficult; fear and dread coursed through his blood.
I’ll be back, Chloe.
Moreno’s parting words buzzed through Derek’s brain, making him wonder if he’d been wrong to believe the shock he’d seen on Moreno’s face when the man had laid eyes on Chloe.
Had Moreno been responsible for the sick presents all along? Had he arranged for a third party to take care of Chloe in the event that he couldn’t?
Or had the threats come from someone else the entire time—this mysterious woman, perhaps?
Too many questions raced through his mind, and his hands began to shake as he reached for his cell phone again. He wanted to call Tate, or Emma, or hell, a damn SWAT team. But what would he say? He had no idea where Chloe even was.
I needed a quiet place to think.
She’d mentioned a drive, so that meant she had her car, but where would Chloe have gone? As anxiety clamped around his throat, Derek scanned his brain, trying to remember if Chloe had any favorite places in town. He’d only ever seen her at the clinic or her apartment. Neither would offer a place to think.
The waterfall.
Derek let out a ragged breath. Of course. Her safe place. She would’ve gone to her safe place to think.
His heartbeat quickened as he whizzed along the highway, going double the speed limit and not giving a damn. Ten minutes later, he burst off the exit ramp, nearly skidding into a ditch as he tried to maintain control of the car.
When he neared Eden Falls Bridge, he didn’t even experience that usual burst of heartache. For the first time in two years, he wasn’t thinking about Tess as he crossed the bridge. He was focused solely on Chloe, and his chest squeezed with panic at the thought of what he might be walking into.
Nothing good, he realized grimly, when he spotted Chloe’s car, along with an unfamiliar black SUV, parked on the side of the road.
Battling a jolt of terror, Derek stopped the car, then snapped his phone to his ear and dialed Emma’s number.
“What’s up, Doc?” came his sister’s amused voice.
He ignored the teasing remark. “Emma, I need you to call the sheriff. Tell him to get to Eden Falls right away. The waterfall, I mean.” His voice came out in sharp pants. “Tell him to come to the waterfall. Chloe’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
Derek stumbled out of the car. “I don’t know, Em. I’d call Tate but he already left for New York. I have no idea what I’m walking into and I need backup, so call the sheriff now.”
He hung up before she could respond, rounding the vehicle to unlock the trunk, where he’d stashed the gun Tate had given him last night. He’d planned on giving it back to Tate earlier, but it had slipped his mind, and now he was grateful for the oversight. Popping the trunk, he grabbed the weapon and shoved it in the pocket of his coat. Then, jaw tight with resolve, he hurried down the slope toward the tree line.
She’s okay. It’ll be okay.
He clung to the assurances echoing in his mind, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fight the terrifying feeling that he was too late.
“No,” he muttered to himself, anger swamping his gut.
It wasn’t too late. He refused to believe the universe hated him so much that it would take Chloe from him the way it had taken Tess.
With quick, determined strides, Derek followed the riverbank toward the waterfall. Snow and twigs were crushed beneath his boots, the rhythmic cracking noises matching the fast thump of his heartbeat. When the faint sound of rushing water greeted his ears, he slowed his pace, ducking to the left so he could approach the waterfall from the trees rather than the muddy bank.
“You’re a goddamn liar!”
He froze as the enraged voice cut through the cold afternoon air.
Creeping through the brush, Derek neared the base of the falls. Through the trees two figures entered his line of sight. He made out Chloe’s blond hair. A flash of red—Chloe’s scarf.
He moved closer, then eased behind the thick, gnarled trunk of a towering pine tree and peeked around it. His muscles tensed as he stared at the back view of the woman facing Chloe. Dark curly hair, a long gray coat flapping in the chilled breeze.
And then Chloe’s soft voice drifted in his direction. “It’s true. Your son was helping to kidnap Amish girls and selling them to sex predators.”
Your son.
Christ. This was Bianca Moreno, Felix’s mother.
Derek had a tough time keeping his jaw closed as he absorbed the startling revelation.
“You’re lying! My Felix would never involve himself in something like that,” Bianca hissed.
The voices grew murmured again. Derek swallowed hard, then continued his approach, ducking behind another tall pine just as a maniacal laugh bounced off the trees.
“This time there won’t be anything fake about your death,” the tall woman said mockingly.
Derek glimpsed a gleam of silver. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach when he realized Moreno’s mother held a pistol in her hands. Oh, Jesus. Chloe had told him her mother-in-law was a tyrant, but clearly the woman was also insane.
“You’re going to commit suicide,” Bianca announced.
Derek tightened his grip on his gun. From his vantage point, he saw the blood drain from Chloe’s face. He heard Bianca Moreno as she said, “And this time you’re going to succeed, darling.”
“You’re crazy,” Chloe burst out.
“And you’re pathetic,” the woman snapped.
Derek crept closer, lifting his weapon. A twig snapped beneath his boots. He froze, his body tensing, but Bianca didn’t whirl around.
Chloe, however, must have heard the noise because her gaze shifted in his direction.
Shock flooded her hazel eyes. As her mouth fell open, Derek shook his head and shot her an urgent look, then lifted his free hand to his mouth and pressed a finger to his lips.
Chloe’s jaw swiftly closed.
Adrenaline pulsated in his blood. He glanced at the back of Bianca Moreno’s head, then at Chloe again. Taking a breath, he held up three fingers, then pointed down to the ground, hoping Chloe understood the message he was trying to transmit.
When she gave an imperceptible nod, he nodded back, his face hard with fortitude.
“I think you’re going to shoot yourself in the heart,” Bianca decided, taking a step closer. “The temple is more in line with suicide, but the note you’ll leave will mention a broken heart. A long, heartfelt message to your new lover, saying you still love your husband and can’t bear to lead him on any longer. I feel that’s poetic, no?”
Derek held up one finger.
Bianca took a step toward Chloe.
He raised a second finger, then a third.
Chloe dropped to the cold ground like a stone.
A second later, Derek sprang on Bianca and tackled the woman to the ground. An outraged wail echoed in the air, followed by a clatter and a wet plop as the pistol in the woman’s hand fell into the pool of water beyond the rock-strewn bank.
With a grunt, Derek straddled Bianca Moreno’s back, jamming a knee between her shoulder blades as the woman wiggled and screamed beneath him. While he attempted to subdue the squirming, infuriated woman, he sent a quick glance in Chloe’s direction. “You all right, sweetheart?”
Looking dazed, Chloe staggered to her feet. “I’m good.”
Beneath him, Bianca continued to struggle, thrusting her elbow back and nearly connecting with his groin. Derek shifted and grabbed hold of Bianca’s dark curls. “Don’t move,” he growled.
The woman shrieked when he yanked on her hair. “Let go of me, you bastard!”
He rammed the butt of his gun into the nape of her neck. “Don’t make me shoot you,” he said in a weary voice.
At the
threat, she immediately went still.
Chloe stumbled over, looming over Derek and Bianca, a stunned, slightly exhausted expression on her pretty face. “I can’t believe you found me,” she murmured, her eyes meeting his. “How did you know I was here?”
“You said you needed a quiet place to think.” He swallowed. “Somehow I knew this is where you’d go.”
“Colton!” a loud voice shouted. “Colton, you down there?”
“Over here,” Derek called.
Footsteps crunched in the snow, and then three men lumbered onto the scene, weapons drawn. Two wore the beige uniform of the Eden Falls Police Department, whereas the third, a man with wavy brown hair and shrewd green eyes, was clad in jeans and a heavy parka; Derek instantly recognized Tom Hanson, the lone detective who worked for the department.
The next ten minutes went by in a blur. Derek and Chloe quickly explained to Hanson and his men what had transpired, while Bianca cursed and screamed the entire time, hurling threats at anyone she could. When one of the officers fished her pistol out of the water, the woman denied it was hers. When Hanson slapped handcuffs on her bony wrists, she shrieked in indignation. When she was read her rights, she nearly head-butted the detective.
By the time Bianca was ushered away, her delusional, unbalanced nature was clear to all. As Bianca and the cops disappeared, Derek heard Bianca demanding to see her son, screaming out Felix’s name over and over again.
Stunned, he turned to Chloe, whose hazel eyes flickered with sorrow.
“You okay?” Derek asked gruffly.
Chloe tore her gaze from Bianca’s retreating figure. “I…” Her voice cracked. “Thank you,” she finally whispered. “You saved my life.”
Without an ounce of hesitation, Derek drew her into his arms and held her so tight he feared he’d crack her ribs. Loosening his grip, he buried his nose in her hair and breathed her in, letting her sweet scent infuse his senses. He couldn’t believe he’d almost lost her.
