by Jane Blythe
“We’re both killers,” he reminded her. “We’re both on the run. Do you think being together is going to make that better?”
“Yes,” she nodded, seemingly confident in her answer. “We won't be alone. We’ll have someone to watch our back. Besides, Ryan and Paige know we’re together now, and so does that cop who’s after you. Together we’re stronger than we’d be on our own.”
“Okay, what about your baby? Is it best for her to be with us? I don’t plan to stop killing…”
“I never asked you to,” Isabella interrupted. “And I don’t either. I don’t even think I could stop if I wanted to. And no, maybe we aren’t the best people to be raising a child. Sophie needs stability, and we can't offer her that. We may have to pack up and take off at a moment’s notice; having her with us would make that difficult. Maybe I should give her to my sister.”
“I think that might be for the best,” Ricky agreed. The idea of caring for a screaming, crying infant did not appeal to him. “You can't turn yourself in,” he warned her. “I won't let you.”
For a moment, she stared up at him and he thought she was going to disagree, but then she smiled, and tugged her hand free from his grasp to brush it across his lips. “I don’t have any plans to turn myself in,” she assured him. “I couldn’t give you up. I don’t think I could live without you.”
“What about if I rape another woman?” he asked frankly. “What about when I finally go after Annabelle? I intend to make her suffer before I kill her. Are you going to be able to handle that, or are you going to split?”
She considered his words. “I'm not going to split,” she said at last. “But I can't promise I won't be angry. Or jealous. I don’t want to see you with another woman. But I do promise that I won't ever run out on you.”
“All right,” he drew the word out, knowing what he wanted to say to her, but struggling to get the words out.
“So,” Isabella smiled seductively, “did I pass?”
“Pass?” he repeated, her fingers resting just beside his mouth was making it hard for him to concentrate.
“My test,” she elaborated. “Did I convince you that I really want to be with you? That we can make it work?”
“Yeah, you did.” He opened his mouth and turned his head enough to draw her fingers into his mouth and suck on them.
“Good,” she pulled her hand from his mouth and leaned up to kiss him.
“So, where do we go from here?”
“You mean physically? We can't go back to my house, and the police don’t seem to know where you live, so we’re probably safe here for a while.”
He smiled. “No, not physically,” he explained. “With us. I…” Taking a deep breath, he let the words tumble out, “I love you, too. Marry me?”
Her gray eyes grew wide with surprise, then her face broke into an enormous grin and she clambered on top of him. They were both still naked, and at the feel of her body on his, his instantly responded. Isabella’s mouth met his as she lowered herself onto him.
Immediately he rolled her beneath him and for the next few minutes they were all sweaty bodies moving in tandem, moans and groans and breathless gasps. When at last he collapsed upon her, both spent, he realized that Isabella had never answered his question. Although the hot sex could be construed as an answer of sorts.
Ricky looked at her, lying beneath him, still breathing hard, and was about to repeat his proposal, when she caught him watching her and met his gaze with pure adoration in her eyes.
“Yes.”
* * * * *
10:34 P.M.
Sofia snuggled deeper into Ryan’s arms.
They were both curled up in bed. Ryan had finally managed to make it home at a reasonable time tonight, and they’d eaten dinner together, watched a movie, and then climbed into bed. Ryan had fallen asleep almost immediately, but Sofia had been too wound up to drift off.
She had enjoyed her time with Annabelle Englewood today, but it had been draining. Annabelle was a few years younger than her and severely lacking in self-confidence. Sofia had known almost as soon as she opened the door, that she was going to have to drive the conversation. Left to herself, Annabelle probably would have sat there silently all day.
Once they’d gotten over the hump of sharing the similar traumatic experiences they had both recently endured, things had gotten easier. Sofia had shared her story mainly because Ryan had told her that Xavier had told him that Annabelle was in desperate need of a friend in whom she could confide. And she certainly was. She had been wary at first, but once Sofia had convinced her that they had a lot in common, she had slowly started to open up.
Annabelle had been honest and told her that she had never had a real friend, and Sofia could see why. Annabelle was shy, always aiming to please, timid, and she seemed to have no idea that she was beautiful. She had delicate features—silky brown hair and amazing near-white eyes. But Annabelle didn’t seem to see it that way. She was embarrassed about her eyes and thought she was rather plain looking. She was also terrified to let anyone get close to her in case she got emotionally invested and then they turned cold. Like her parents had done.
Sofia was fairly certain, though, that with some gentle encouragement and support, Annabelle would soon come out of her shell. She was, however, concerned about the other woman’s mental state. Sofia knew that she herself had been a mess the last few months, but she had never seriously considered suicide. Annabelle, on the other hand, had seriously considered it and Sofia was sure that she was still actively thinking about it. At least Xavier was aware of it. Sofia had made sure to get him alone so she could confirm it, and he seemed extremely supportive of Annabelle. He obviously loved her a lot. Hopefully that would be enough to get her through this difficult time.
Recounting what she had personally been through to a stranger had left her both physically exhausted and mentally wound up. She didn’t like to talk about herself, Isabella, and their family. She only talked to Ryan about it because he was so insistent that he usually wore her down and into compliance. Although, she somewhat grudgingly admitted to herself, she usually felt better afterward. However, she had known that the only way she was going to be able to connect with Annabelle was to share. So she had. But now she was paying for it with a killer headache and her mind stuck in overdrive.
Even though she couldn’t sleep, she was enjoying just lying here with Ryan’s arms around her. Sofia loved being held. Her family had not been emotional or demonstrative and there had never been anyone around to just hug her. She’d missed that as a child, just the simple act of having someone wrap you up in their arms and hold you. Luckily, Ryan was an affectionate guy.
Clearing her mind, Sofia cuddled closer against Ryan’s warm body and attempted to fall asleep. She was going to be a mess tomorrow if she didn’t get at least a couple of hours’ rest. Maneuvering her leg into a more comfortable position, she could feel herself just starting to drift off when something startled her back into full awareness.
Was that footsteps?
No, surely it couldn’t be. She and Ryan were the only ones here. And her stalker couldn’t be stupid enough to break in here while Ryan was home with her. Especially now that the security system was up and running. If someone had broken in, the alarm would have been tripped. As well as alerting the police, it would also have sent messages to both hers and Ryan’s phones.
Carefully, she moved out of Ryan’s arms to reach for her phone on the small table beside the bed. Picking it up, she saw no alert from the security system.
Lying back down, she tried to calm herself. She was probably just being paranoid—which made sense given that the last two nights her stalker had broken in here. But she had been alone those times, and now she wasn’t. And so far, her stalker had not been stupid.
It was probably nothing, she assured herself.
But she couldn’t quite convince herself of that.
Instead she lay stiff and still on her side of the bed. Attempting not to move,
to barely even breathe, her ears strained to hear any sound. But it seemed the more she tried to listen, the more she couldn’t hear a thing. The silence seemed deafening.
And then she heard it.
This time she was positive.
Footsteps.
“Ryan,” she whispered urgently, tugging on his arm.
“Mmm?” he groaned groggily.
“Ryan, wake up,” she pulled on his arm more firmly. “Ryan.”
“Yeah?” his eyes opened, for a moment still sleep laden, and then he snapped to attention. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I heard something,” she replied.
He was instantly on alert, “Are you sure? The alarm didn’t go off.”
“I'm sure,” a little tremble crept into her voice. She was scared. Again. And she was so sick of being scared in her own home.
Ryan climbed out of bed and threw on some sweatpants. “All right, you stay here. Hide. Get under the bed.” He reached into the lockbox on the top shelf of the closet and pulled out both guns, thrusting his spare one at her. “Take this. Don’t hesitate to use it if you have to. Now go, under the bed.”
“Ryan, no,” she protested. No way was she going to stay here alone while someone else was in their house.
“Sofia, this guy is after you, not me; no way are we offering you up on a silver platter for him. Now hide,” Ryan commanded.
“No, I want to go with you; I’ll be safer with you than by myself,” she countered, grabbing the shirt he had discarded before bed as it was the closest garment and slipping into it.
He muttered under his breath, “Stay behind me,” he ordered.
Relieved, Sofia clutched the gun in one hand and then crossed to Ryan, standing as close to him as she could physically manage without climbing on his back. Together they moved out into the hall. Their bedroom was the farthest from the stairs, and Ryan had cleared the bathroom and two of the other bedrooms when the door to the last bedroom was flung violently open.
“Hey, stop,” Ryan yelled, taking off like a shot after the figure that darted down the stairs. “Stay put,” he tossed over his shoulder to her.
There was no way Sofia was staying here by herself. She had seen enough horror movies where the girl who stayed behind while her boyfriend chased the monster never made it out alive. Using the wall for leverage, she worked her way as quickly down the stairs as her bad leg would allow. The front door was open, and by the time she got to the porch Ryan was halfway down the street, and a car was careening around a corner, tires screeching.
Limping down the path and out onto the street, she stopped under a streetlight; the glow that bathed her made her feel marginally safer. How could this be happening again? After the security system had been installed, she hadn't expected him to try breaking in again. And yet he had. He had been in their home while the two of them had been in bed. What if she’d fallen straight asleep like Ryan had? What if she hadn't heard him? What would he have done to them? They would have been completely vulnerable to him. He could have killed them before they ever woke up. Or he could have taken Ryan out and then grabbed her.
When was he going to stop?
When was he going to leave her alone? Right now, it felt like this nightmare would never end.
What did he want from her? If she knew the answer to that, she would gladly give it to him if it meant he would just stay away from her.
“What are you doing out here? I told you to stay indoors. It’s freezing,” Ryan appeared before her, tone reprimanding.
“Did he get away?” she asked in a voice that was bordering on a whimper. Sofia already knew the answer, but she still asked the question.
“Yeah,” his tone softened. “I'm sorry, honey. He was already in his car by the time I got outside. I followed him but I couldn’t get a license plate number.”
“Oh,” was all she could manage.
“I'm sorry,” Ryan said again. “Here, let me take that.” His hands covered hers and she realized that she was clutching the gun he’d given her in a death grip, so he eased it out of her hands. “Darn,” he muttered, “you're like ice.”
“So are you,” she murmured, resting her cheek against his bare chest; his smooth skin was also ice cold. Neither of them wore shoes, Ryan was topless, and she was wearing only his shirt. Getting properly dressed hadn't been on either of their minds when they realized an intruder was in their home. Sofia hadn't even realized she was cold until Ryan mentioned it, but now that he’d brought it to her attention, she found she was shivering uncontrollably.
“Yeah, but I'm fine and you're not; you're shaking,” Ryan countered. “Let’s get you inside.”
Before she knew it, he had scooped her off her feet and was carrying her back toward the house. Once inside he closed and locked the door and reset the seemingly pointless security system while balancing her in his arms. Then he set her in the living room, wrapped her in a blanket and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned shortly with a mug of steaming hot chocolate.
“Drink this,” he handed her the cup. “I’ll call it in. Not that it’ll do much good; he never leaves anything behind,” he added in a sour voice.
Sofia took a sip of hot chocolate as Ryan paced the room, but the mug was too hot for her freezing hands, and they were shaking too much anyway that she was afraid of spilling the burning liquid all over herself. Instead she set the cup down and, clutching the blanket around her shoulders, went to stand by Ryan. She felt safer beside him. Sure, they thought the stalker had driven off in his car, but he could have backtracked. He could be watching them right now. He could break back in here. Sofia was going to stick like glue to Ryan.
“How did he get in?” she asked as he hung up. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop her voice from wobbling.
“All the windows aren’t wired into the system yet,” Ryan explained. “He came in through a back one. He knew which ones to use, which means he was watching the house yesterday.”
A violent shiver wracked through her body and her knees went a little weak. Pitching forward, she leaned against Ryan’s strong chest, allowing him to hold her up.
“You're still shivering,” he said it grimly. “Come here,” he led her back to the couch, sat down and pulled her into his lap, then took her cold hands in his and began to rub them.
She rested her head on his shoulder, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “He won't stop,” she whispered. “He won't stop until I'm dead or he kidnaps me or whatever it is he has planned for me.”
“He’s not going to get his hands on you,” Ryan said fiercely. “Never, Sofia. I promise you, he will never get his hands on you.”
Resting in Ryan’s arms, Sofia tried really hard to believe him.
JANUARY 13th
9:38 A.M.
“I don’t need a ring,” Isabella assured Ricky.
She knew she was gazing up at him with open adoration. She was nearly woozy with a blinding, all-encompassing love for him. She loved everything about him—everything.
Well, she amended slightly, she loved everything about him except his apparent penchant for raping women. She was, however, prepared to overlook that. Besides, now that Ricky had her, there was no need for him to go seeking sex anywhere else.
A tiny glimmer of doubt about that ignited inside her.
Isabella wanted to believe that was true. She really did. Especially since she and Ricky had spent the most amazing day in bed together. She had thought that she would be shy, that she would feel awkward. Isabella knew she wasn’t pretty, and that her body was nothing out of the ordinary, and she had thought that showing it to a man would make her feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. But it hadn't. It had been perfect. Ricky had been perfect.
This whole thing was perfect.
She couldn’t believe that she was engaged—to someone just like her. Even before she had started killing, she had believed she was one of a kind. That she was alone in the universe. That there was no other half for her. And then, onc
e she committed her first murder she had believed that she didn’t deserve to find her soul mate—that she deserved to be miserable and alone.
Only now it was like all her dreams were coming true.
Isabella felt like Cinderella.
When Ricky had proposed to her, it had been the most magical moment of her entire life. She still couldn’t believe she was engaged. She and Ricky were going to spend the rest of their lives together and it was going to be perfect. Everything from now on was going to be perfect.
“Isabella?”
Ricky’s hands grasped her chin and shook. Blinking in surprise, she had let her mind wander. She grinned at him, “Did you say something?”
He frowned slightly, “You zoning out on me, babe?”
She giggled like a schoolgirl, which while technically she may be one as she was only seventeen. Isabella had always been much older than her years. “A little.”
“I said, of course you get a ring; any ring you want,” Ricky looked offended.
“I don’t want you to spend too much money.” Isabella had grown up wealthy but she didn’t care about money at all. She had siphoned off enough into private bank accounts so that once she went on the run she had enough to get by, but beyond that it just wasn’t important to her. She had had money, more money than she would ever need in her lifetime, and it hadn't made her—or anyone in her family—happy.
“Don’t you worry about that,” he shot her a cheeky grin then opened the door to the jewelry store for her.
Once inside Ricky slung an arm around her shoulders, and Isabella felt her heart go pitter-patter. Not for the first time, Isabella was glad that she looked years older than she was. Otherwise the sight of a guy in his mid-forties with a teenage girl would draw too much attention. As it was they looked nothing more than a happy engaged couple ring shopping.
