As they passed beyond the shadow of the rock outcropping, the house suddenly appeared, a dark silhouette in the night sky.
“There it is.” She scrambled up the hill, using the rocks as handholds the way she had the other day, switching the torch from palm to palm when she needed to. Pebbles skittered down the hill in her wake, yet she heard the relentless progress of the men behind her.
She crested the hill, stopping long enough to catch her breath. Wade and Jake came abreast of her, staring at the house.
“Someone should have torn it down long ago,” Jake said softly.
Souls traveled together, Suze had said. Maybe Jake had been to this place. She’d think about that later, too.
“This way.” She rounded the house, shining the flashlight ahead of her until the cellar doors appeared in the beam.
The padlock lay broken in the dirt. Rocks were piled atop the corrugated tin. As if Bern had been trying to seal it off.
Or someone had been trying to seal him in.
“Help me.” Panic rose in her throat, choking her, and she dropped the flashlight, stumbled, fell to her knees. Big rocks, heavy rocks, piled high. Her nails broke. Her wrists ached. Wade and Jake were beside her, grabbing, tossing.
“Bern.” She called. No one answered. There was only the huff and puff of their labored breaths.
Then the doors were clear. Jake hauled one back, Wade the other. Livie flashed her torch down into the hole.
In the pool of light, Bern lay crumpled at the bottom of the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-six
“I thought you were dead,” she whispered against his lips. “Seeing you down there, I thought I’d die, too.”
Sprawled on her bed with pillows all around him, Bern hugged her tightly despite the ache in every part of his body. His head, swathed in bandages, was the worst. The blow had landed just above his ear, perilously close to his temple. A few fractions of an inch, and they would have found him dead in that cellar.
He’d been unconscious when the paramedics pulled him out of the hole two nights ago and rushed him to the hospital. After attending to his head, the emergency room doctor forced him to stay the night. He had a concussion, needed watching, twenty-four hours, yeah, yeah, yeah. All he’d wanted was Livie.
The police came Thursday morning, since he obviously hadn’t put the rocks on those doors himself. Yet the truth was that he hadn’t seen a damn thing. All he had was a gut feeling that Toni was responsible.
The doctors had released him this morning, and Livie took him home. He’d slept through the drive. He’d still felt nauseous and had closed his eyes to stop the spinning. This was the first moment he’d had alone with her. In the hospital room, there’d been his brothers, Mom, Clare, even Nana. Before they’d driven away, Wade had hugged Livie and folded her hand around a slip of paper with his cell number and the house phone on it.
Christ. The lengths she’d gone to turned him inside out.
Now, on her bed, he breathed in the flowery scent of her hair and drew her warmth deep inside. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“For telling the police I thought Toni was responsible.”
She sat up. “You can’t help what you feel. But you should have told me about the squirrel on your doorstep.”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
He’d told the police everything while Livie listened. It was too late to determine anything about the squirrel. As for the cellar, there wasn’t a shred of physical evidence, no forensics to perform, unless you could pull fingerprints off a bunch of rocks. If Toni had parked behind his car at the gully, Wade’s car and the ambulance had obscured her tire tracks. All the police could do was question her when they found her.
But he knew what she’d done.
“Toni couldn’t have known where you were,” Livie said. “I didn’t tell her.”
She’d confessed that Toni had come to her on Tuesday night. Two days ago, he would have railed at her for keeping it a secret. But something had happened to him down in that hole. He no longer cared about trivialities.
“She knew just like you knew,” he insisted.
“It was an educated guess on my part based on your reaction to the house.”
She’d been saying that for two days. It was far more. Somehow they’d broken through to the past, their past. Down in that cellar, it had been like a regression hypnosis. He’d seen. He knew. Livie’s mind had been opened, too.
So had Toni’s. He was sure of it. She’d been there. She’d hit him, stolen his phone, and covered the doors with rocks. She’d walled him in just like she had seventy years ago. She’d left him to die down there.
“I talked to her that night,” Livie insisted. “She was going to meet me for dinner. I was the one who said I couldn’t make. There was no way she could have been up there, too.”
He’d made it up to the house around four o’clock. Livie didn’t talk to Toni until seven. Three hours would have been enough to follow him up the hill, hit him, cover the doors, and be back on the highway in time to take Livie’s call. Livie had no idea where Toni had actually been at that moment, except that she was in her car. Of course, that meant Toni had to know where he was.
He was convinced she had.
Stretched out beside him, Livie leaned on one arm, looking down at him.
“I saw things down in that cellar,” he said. She waited, letting him go at his own pace. “I’ve been dreaming about it,” he admitted.
She pursed her lips. “Since when?”
“Since you found Toni at my house. Something happened that night, as if it were a trigger. I started dreaming about being trapped in a cellar. In the dark. I died down there.”
If he expected her to soften at that point, she didn’t. “I know what you’re going to say. You recognized the cellar up at that house. And you didn’t tell me.”
“I had to work it out.”
“And how did Toni fit into everything?”
It was time to tell her about the vision. He hadn’t told the police. He couldn’t afford to let them write him off as a crackpot. “I had a dream. No,” he corrected, “it was a memory. She and I were married. We lived in that house. So did you. I was going to leave her. It was right after Pearl Harbor because I talked about the Japs. I was enlisting and never coming back. You’d gone to San Francisco for a week.”
She tipped her head. “We used to meet out at that rock below the house, didn’t we?”
“Yes.” He held her hand. “It was so clear. I knew everything about us.”
“Like my regression to that little boy.”
He nodded. “Like it was really my past. She’d fallen off a horse a couple of years before, while you two were out riding. It was supposedly your fault. She was always sickly after that. But it was really her way of getting attention, of keeping you in line, making you feel guilty, tying you to her.” Binding the two of them to her.
“Just like Toni,” she whispered.
“When I told her I was leaving her, she hit me with her cane. I don’t know how she got me into the cellar, but she locked me in and walled me up behind the bricks.”
Livie parted her lips, stared at him. “That’s why the border in the garden wasn’t finished. She used them.”
“I’m not crazy,” he said. “It was real. Even the hate I felt for her was real. She let me die down there.”
“That’s why I could just shake you,” she said through gritted teeth. “If you hadn’t been so hell bent on protecting me by not telling me things you should have, I wouldn’t have let Toni in that night. Maybe you would never have been hurt. I certainly wouldn’t have let you investigate that cellar by yourself.” She shook her finger at him. “No more secrets, you hear.”
“No more secrets, I promise.” He reached out to hold her finger, in case she poked him with it. “Does that mean you believe me?”
She blinked. But she never answered. In the silence, they both heard it, the cli
ck of Livie’s dead bolt.
“Livie, are you home? Oh my God, I heard it on the news. Is he okay?”
Toni stopped in the bedroom doorway, her hand on the jamb, one heel suspended six inches off the floor. As if she were completely surprised to find him lying on her sister’s bed.
Then she put a hand to her chest and gasped. “Oh thank you God, you’re all right.”
Livie looked at him. Something sad bloomed in her gaze.
Bern slid to the side of the bed and stood. Even with his head in bandages and his entire body one big ache, he wasn’t facing off with that bitch while he was flat on his back.
Yet it was Livie who spoke. “Toni, where were you on Wednesday when you called me about dinner?”
Toni cocked her head and stared at her sister, her brows knit in confusion. “What are you talking about? Wednesday? I called you?” She put two fingers to her temple. “Oh, you mean in the evening, because we were supposed to meet at seven. Why I was on my way to the restaurant, but I was running late.” She was good. She had it down. “But you said you couldn’t make it. Remember?”
She was skillful, trying to make Livie her alibi. He wouldn’t let her get away with the innocent act. “You were in Red Cliff. Up at the rock house. Did you think I didn’t see you, Toni?” The lie didn’t bother him in the least.
“Red Cliff? Rock house? What are you talking about?” Then she let her mouth drop. “You don’t think I...” With a horrified gasp, she put a hand to her chest.
He let the silence wear her down. Livie rose beside him, took his hand.
“Livie, tell him,” Toni said, a woebegone pleading in her voice. “You know I didn’t do anything to him. I don’t even know where Red Cliff and this house are.”
“How long did it take you to pile all those rocks on top off the doors?” he asked softly. “So many of them. Searching for them, carrying them back. It must have taken at least an hour. What did it do to your manicure?”
She clenched her fists. “My manicure’s just fine.” She’d had more than a day to fix her nails.
But he kept pushing at her. “Surely there were scrapes and scratches.” He held out his hands. “Look what clawing at the doors did to mine?”
Livie clung to his arm, staring at the lines and grooves now beginning to scab over.
“Come on, Toni,” he cajoled. “Let me see your hands.”
She kept them balled into fists. “I can’t believe you’re accusing me of trying to hurt you.” She turned to her sister. “Livie?” Such a pitiful plea, yeah, she was damn good.
He didn’t dare look at Livie, didn’t want to see her waver in her trust of him.
Then she spoke softly. “Did you hit him and leave him down in that cellar?” His chest tightened at her words.
“What cellar?” Toni wailed. “I don’t know what either of you are talking about.”
He could feel the tension in Livie’s body as she clung to him, but her voice was strong. “I’m asking if you left him to die down there.”
“Of course I didn’t.” Toni stepped closer, held out a hand to her sister. Bern couldn’t make out a single scratch on it, and her nails were freshly painted a deep crimson.
They looked blood-tipped. With his blood.
He waited with his heart in his throat. Believe me, Livie. Choose me, Livie.
Livie pulled away from him, and he had to hold fast to his last shred of strength not to hold her, force her to see. Don’t desert me now. He wondered how many times in their past lives Toni had forced her to choose. And how many times she’d believed Toni over him.
Instead of going to her sister, Livie reached to the bedside table behind him. He turned to find her cell phone in her hand. She pressed a button.
Another phone began to ring, its tone muffled. But he knew that ringtone. He’d never used anything fancy, just a straight ring like an old-fashioned rotary phone.
Toni clutched her purse to her chest as if that would muffle the sound. Livie pressed End, and the ringing stopped.
“How did you get Bern’s cell phone?” she asked her sister, her voice exceptionally soft yet deadlier than he’d realized Livie could be capable of.
Toni’s lips worked a moment. Then she pivoted, her ankle twisting on her high heel. It didn’t stop her headlong flight down the hall. It took him too long to react, and a moment later the front door slammed, its echo resounding through the condo.
He started after her.
Livie grabbed his arm. “No.” Her tone was sharp. “You’re already hurt. I won’t let her do anything else to you.”
She was right. He’d never catch Toni in his current condition. “I never even thought of trying my phone,” he said.
“On all the crime shows, the murderer keeps a trophy.” Her gaze was watery, then a single tear slid down her cheek.
“I’m sorry.” The words were inadequate, but he had nothing else.
She put a hand to his cheek. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I kept searching for our past together like it was a game. I never really considered the ultimate outcome, that she’d actually try to kill you.”
He folded her into his arms, held her tightly. “I’ll never leave you again. I’ll never let her hurt you. I’ll never let her get rid of me.”
It was a vow he would keep. George and Myra would be the last lifetime that he allowed Toni to come between them.
* * * * *
They’d called the detective. He’d said he’d have the police in their area looking for her. It wouldn’t do any good. Toni would ditch the phone.
The beat of Livie’s heart still hadn’t calmed. “I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t seem to stop repeating herself. “All those coincidences,” she said. “Finding that old realtor, the house, Clare working for the library. I just kept pushing and pushing until I almost got you killed.”
“Don’t be absurd. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with what Toni was planning all along.” With a hard grip on her shoulders, he held her away. “But you really didn’t believe me when I said it was her.”
Despite the bandage wrapped around his head, he was so tall and powerful above her. He’d never asked her, not once, not when he told the police his story, not when he told his family. “I believed you. Who else would have done it? No one had a reason. I just don’t know how she figured out where you’d be. I swear I didn’t tell her. I said you were up north. That was it.”
Just as quick and hard as he’d held her away, he hauled her close. His embrace was tight, desperate. “When I knew I was going to die, I thought of you. Both times. Now and all those years ago. You were my last thought.”
Livie leaned back, cupped his face in her hands. “You didn’t die this time.” Then she kissed him, long, sweet, and openmouthed.
Bern pulled her down onto the bed. “Make love with me. Now.”
She stilled against him. “Your head. You’re hurt.”
“I don’t hurt too much for that.”
Her face close to his, she searched his eyes. She wanted what he wanted. They needed this between them. She wouldn’t think about Toni. “Let me make love to you.”
She crawled down his body, undoing the buttons of his shirt as she went. She licked his flat, brown nipples, then bit lightly.
He hissed in a breath. “You make me crazy,” he murmured.
“Shh. Let me take care of you.” She kissed her way down his belly to his belt. Unbuckling it, she gazed up at him. She could almost see herself in the reflection of his eyes, a wanton woman. She’d never felt more beautiful.
He threaded his hands through her hair. “Don’t stop.”
She wouldn’t. Not until he cried out her name. She pinned his legs, held him down, then unzipped his jeans. He was hard, ready, a pearl of need glistening on his tip. She licked it away with a swipe of her tongue, savored his taste.
“God.” His hands still in her hair, he guided her.
Livie swallowed all of him, taking him deep into her mouth. He groaned, h
is body moving, mimicking the rhythm of lovemaking. She used her tongue, her lips, the light rasp of her teeth, the suction, until he writhed beneath her, his breathing harsh.
She would never give him up. Not for Toni, not for anyone. She would take care of him, cherish him. It was a vow she made him from the deepest part of her heart.
He gasped and surged deep, taking her that way, feeding himself to her. She felt each pulse against her tongue.
Then he pulled away. “Jesus, not yet. Inside you. I want inside.”
As he reached for her, Livie slid back. “No. I’m making love to you. I’m doing all the work. You just lie there and take it.” She wriggled out of her jeans.
“If I’m in you, I won’t able to just lie here.”
A hand on his chest, she pushed him down, straddled him. “I do the work. All you have to do is come.” Leaning down, she took his mouth with a deep kiss, her tongue swirling with his. She knew he would taste himself as well.
Then she reached between her legs, found him, stroked him, caressed herself with his length. God, she was wet. His body quivered, on the edge.
“Now,” he demanded.
She hovered above him for one long moment, then plunged. The sharp penetration stole the breath from her lungs.
“Holy hell.” His fingers spasmed on her hips. Then he was pushing, pulling, forcing her to rise and fall, directing her to a faster, harder, blissful pace.
He filled her in a way no man ever had. All the way to her heart.
Their breath, the gasps and sighs, flesh meeting flesh, it was like sensual music. Her thighs ached deliciously with the ride. Her tension grew. She could feel the throb and pulse of his possession, and it drove her higher until suddenly all sensation seemed to shoot straight down, to their joining, his flesh, her flesh, one beat, one pulse.
At last, he called out her name.
They were one. Toni could never take that away from them.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Toni pressed her foot to the pedal and darted around a blue Prius. As she blew by, she shot her middle finger at the old man. Her blood was screaming in her veins, and she’d wanted to ram the little car out of her way. She wanted to do damage to something, anything.
Twisted By Love, Reincarnation Tales, Book 1 Page 21
