28 Days: a romantic suspense

by Lexi Buchanan

  As he lay down on his bed, he prayed that she hadn’t been scared off and that she’d be back.

  * * *

  3:30pm

  * * *

  With his head down, minding his own business, Alex felt the eyes of the barbershop quartet watching his every move. He paused and glared back, but not one of the old guys flinched. Mr. Matheson, at the end, used to own the hardware store, which now belonged to his son and grandson. His left eye twitched when Alex turned to cross the street toward them.

  Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention as he stepped off the sidewalk. He turned and frowned when he realized it was Christina.

  She was sitting in her car with her hands on the steering column and her head resting on top of them.

  He was tempted to turn and ignore her. She’d gotten to him before, and more so now. Her confession had been a surprise and he knew, without having to ask, that Saige had no idea that her stepmom was anything but self-centered.

  Alex should be running in the opposite direction, but he found his feet moving toward the woman in the car. The woman who looked like her world was being destroyed with every second that ticked by.

  He didn’t wait for an invitation and opened her door to her shocked surprise. “What happened?”

  Christina lifted her tear-stained face up to his. “Someone tried to run me off the road.” Her lips trembled and he could see by the way her body folded in on itself just how shaken she was.

  “Come with me.” He didn’t give her a choice and helped her out of the car. “Are you hurt anywhere?” he thought to ask, perhaps a tad too late.

  “Other than shaken, I’m fine.”

  Alex wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her between two stores, away from prying eyes of the townsfolk. Once hidden, Alex tugged her into his arms and held her, letting her cry her shock out. “I have you,” he mumbled, and rolled his eyes when he realized how he sounded—as though he cared.

  He let Christina pull away while she searched in her purse for a Kleenex. Seconds later, she met his gaze. “Thank you. You surprised me.”

  He laughed. “I surprised myself.” He frowned. “You’re married and I’m an asshole.”

  Christina shook her head. “Don’t say that. I know our previous meetings haven’t gone so well, but last night was...different.” Christina blushed. “I know even if I wasn’t married that you wouldn’t look at me as permanent. For what it’s worth, thank you. And thank you for today as well.”

  Alex heard the words and then heard the vulnerability in her voice. He knew that she thought her words were the truth, but he wasn’t too sure anymore. There was certainly something about Christina that had held his interest over the years—something there that caused his heart to ache at her obvious distress.

  He pulled her close. “Listen to me, okay. I want you to stay with me until I can get you home.”

  “Alex, you’re worrying me.”

  “I know.” He touched his forehead against hers and wondered whether or not she could handle the truth.

  Deciding she was going to hear it one way or another, he briefly closed his eyes, and then held her gaze. “There have been murders.” Christina gasped and fear filled her eyes as he continued, “Jocelyn was the first to be discovered, but it appears that her death was not long after Quinten was sentenced.” He rubbed the nape of her neck with his thumb. “Since then, two other women have been killed...within hours of me being with them.”

  She winced at his bluntness.

  “I didn’t think last night and I should have. But this morning I did and realized that it was morning and you were still alive so I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Detective Robinson knows that I had something going with both women, but I didn’t admit that the last time had been hours before they’d been murdered. I don’t know what all this means, but I’m in town and I’m going to wait for Coulter to get back with Saige and then I’ll talk to him. I don’t trust anyone else not to lock me up first and ask questions later.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Christina quivered against him, and moved closer into his loose embrace, which tightened. “I guess I should count my lucky stars, huh?”

  “I’m not sure what’s happening, but I’m wondering if there’s a reason why he didn’t come after you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” She pointed toward her car.

  “I have a feeling that if he wanted you dead that you would be.” He grabbed her shoulders. “Did you see the plates on the car that went after you?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head. “No. I didn’t think about it. I was stupid.” Her forehead dropped to his chest.

  “Christina, you have to be careful, okay?”

  Nodding, she asked, “So what is going to happen now?”

  “I don’t know.” He sighed. “What I do know is that you’re staying with me and I’ll drive you home after I’ve spoken to Coulter. He isn’t that far out. Saige texted me not too long ago that they were almost back…we’ll work it out.” He kissed her forehead, squeezed her hand and stepped back.

  His gaze swept the area and he spotted Paul Lewis in the doorway of the pharmacy, staring right at them.

  Alex narrowed his eyes and watched as the man scurried back inside.

  * * *

  11:20pm

  * * *

  “I love you, Saige...”

  “You’ll never have him...”

  “He’s not good enough for you...”

  “I’ll help you...”

  “Don’t tell...”

  “He’s not who you think he is...”

  “It’s killing me to watch you leave...”

  “Come back to me, babe...”

  Darkness started to engulf her. Her body was chilled, her limbs heavy, sluggish. A sixth sense told her to run, but she couldn’t move. Icy fear clutched around her heart as her senses started to disappear and her eyes fluttered closed...

  Day 13

  2:00am

  * * *

  “Saige, what’s going on?” her father asked, coming into the living room with a very rumpled looking Detective Robinson on his heels.

  When she’d woken up screaming, Alex had been the one to come barging into her room, and he ended up calling Coulter to come to the house.

  As she watched Coulter pour coffee into a mug from the sideboard, she answered her father, “I got my memory back.”

  Coulter burnt himself with coffee and cursed. Saige turned toward her father and watched him drop into a chair beside Christina, who sat huddled into a thick bathrobe on the sofa. Alex sat at the opposite end and Saige caught his quick glance at her stepmother, which confused her all the more. She thought they were at war with each other.

  “Alex hinted at something when he called me. Do you mind if I record what’s said?”

  Saige bit her lip and nodded. “It’s okay.”

  Coulter moved forward and after they tested that his cell picked up her voice clearly, he then placed it on the arm of the chair Saige sat in.

  “Go ahead, Saige,” Coulter encouraged.

  Saige closed her eyes to settle herself and then started her story from that night.

  It had been a warm day, but from the minute she’d started out to Port Jude, the heavens had opened and bombarded her car with rain, which made visibility bad. Night had started to fall halfway into her journey because she’d been late leaving after talking to Quinten. At first, she hadn’t wanted him to know that she was on her way to him for the weekend, but she’d ended up giving it away. Just the sound of his excitement told her how right her decision had been.

  Although it was only a two hour drive between Tampa and Port Jude, a four hour round trip wasn’t feasible all the time. They would have to work it out though because she realized earlier in the day that she couldn’t go weeks without seeing him. Quinten had been just as miserable without her.

  Leaving the main route, Saige started to wonder about the wisdom of th
e trip. She should have waited until early morning and set out at first light instead of driving in the pounding rain.

  Her fists gripped the steering wheel and her stomach clenched with nerves as she peered out of the windshield. Driving past the sign welcoming tourists to Port Jude, Saige sighed in relief. She only had another twenty minutes or so before she hit the turn to her father’s house, and the boathouse where she knew Quinten was waiting for her.

  A pop, and another pop, startled her. Her car started to slip across the slick cement, followed by more popping noises.

  Saige shrieked as she wrestled with the steering wheel. She managed to bring the car to a stop along the side of the road without any damage to it or herself.

  Her hands shook and blood rushed through her head and ears. She rested her forehead against the steering wheel and concentrated on breathing in and out to steady herself.

  “Oh boy,” she moaned, realizing the predicament she was in, and it wasn’t good.

  She couldn’t see anything through the lashing rain and the darkness that surrounded the car.

  Turning, Saige tipped her purse onto the passenger seat and grabbed her cell to call Quinten. But as she swiped her finger across the screen, she stared at it in shock and panic.

  She shook it and kept trying, but nothing. The battery was dead. Even as that realization sank in, she kept trying in hope that it would come to life.

  Nothing.

  Tears slipped down her face as she glanced through the windshield once again. She’d have to walk into town, which lucky for her was only a thirty-minute walk away. But it was dark and, if she was honest, the thought of walking along that stretch of road scared the crap out of her. She didn’t have much choice unless she wanted to spend the night where she was.

  She leaned her head back against the seat and tried to get herself together.

  She could do this.

  She really could.

  “Here goes nothing,” she mumbled, climbing out of the car and grabbing the flashlight from the pocket in the door. The minute she did, she was drenched to the skin. She hadn’t thought to bring a jacket even though the weatherman had warned of a surprise cold front hitting the area—earlier in the day it had been in the high eighties.

  Shivering, Saige switched the flashlight on and felt the nerves in her stomach take flight. The forest surrounding her was dark with lots of places for someone to hide.

  Saige gulped, her heart thumped wildly in her chest as she pushed away from the car. She’d only gotten a foot in front when the beam from her flashlight landed on a pair of boots. She froze, her heart hammering in her throat as she slowly moved the beam upwards, and screamed. She fumbled with the flashlight but managed to keep a hold of it and shined it in Jocelyn’s face.

  “Well…well…well, if it isn’t the whore,” Jocelyn sneered, her eyes hard and evil.

  Shocked, Saige shouted back, “What the hell are you doing out here?” She waved her arms around. “Normal people don’t lurk around in the woods,” Saige yelled, fear lacing her words.

  “I’m waiting for you, of course,” Jocelyn told her, and pointed back toward the road. “Shine your light over there.”

  Saige didn’t know whether or not to trust Jocelyn enough to take her eyes from her, but she was curious. She turned slowly, and gasped when the beam of light landed on spikes in the middle of the road. A shiver of panic shot through her.

  She felt as if a hand had closed around her throat while her mind ran in different directions at what was really going on. One thing she was certain of was that Jocelyn was crazy.

  Whipping her head back, Saige stared and gaped at the deranged woman standing in the rain. Jocelyn’s dark hair was drenched and hung like spikes around her face. Saige tried to open her mouth to say something but couldn’t find the words. She shook her head to clear the shock, and thankfully her speechlessness didn’t last long. “Are you crazy? Oh my God! I can’t believe you’d stoop to this level.”

  “You’re trying to steal my husband, but I can tell you now that it won’t work. He loves me and just wanted to sample innocence for a change.”

  Saige clenched her jaw knowing that Jocelyn spoke nothing but lies. Quinten and Alex hated the woman, and the only reason why Quinten was still in the house with her was because he owned the house. It had been his mother’s until she signed it over to him when she went into the residential care home, and no way did he want Jocelyn to get a hold of it.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “No. Maybe, if I didn’t know your reputation around town. But no, I don’t believe a word out of your mouth. I wouldn’t unless it was Quinten standing in front of me, telling me.”

  Jocelyn’s face twisted in anger and, for the first time, real fear slithered down Saige’s spine.

  “You’ll never have him,” Jocelyn growled, seconds before Saige felt a presence behind her.

  A hand covered her mouth and nose; a sickly, sweet smell slowly crept into her system, causing her stomach to roll.

  She fought and tried to elbow the person behind her, but they were too strong. Her hands reached over her head and yanked at hair, which earned her a curse. The hold around her stomach tightened and, as she started to lose the fight, she heard Jocelyn say, “I’ll deal with Quinten.”

  Saige tried one last struggle and heard Jocelyn laugh. “You’ll never see him again, bitch.”

  When Saige came back to the present, Coulter was sitting on the coffee table in front of her with her hands inside of his. Tears trickled down her face, and she felt the anger that radiated off Alex.

  “That bitch is lucky she’s already dead,” Alex fumed. “All along it was her.” He paced. “Obviously someone else helped her, and it wasn’t Quinten.”

  Coulter placed her hands on her lap and stood to face Alex. “Getting worked up now isn’t going to help anyone, but I’m going to head to the sheriff’s office and type up the report. I’ll need everyone’s signature as witnesses and then I’ll get it to Daniel Sterling.”

  “Do you think Quinten will be released?” Christina whispered. The question had all eyes on her.

  “Don’t be stupid. Of course he won’t be released,” her father snapped.

  “What the fuck,” Alex exclaimed. “Eventually he will be released...and don’t fucking talk to her like that.”

  Saige blinked, startled at Alex’s outburst.

  “She,”—her father pointed at Christina—“is my wife. I will talk to her as I want.”

  “Let’s calm down,” Coulter advised. “Arguing isn’t going to help.” He turned to Christina who had a stunned look on her face. “To answer your question, he won’t be released immediately, but there shouldn’t be any problem getting a stay. He was still convicted for the murder of those girls, which is a problem, but now we can get Saige on the stand to tell her story.”

  “I hate this,” Saige mumbled, resting her head in her hands. “It’s like waking up in the middle of a nightmare.”

  Her father cleared his throat. “Do you remember anything else?”

  “Yes, but everything is jumbled and a lot of it is personal. I’ll let you know if I remember anything else about that night and the days after I was taken.” Saige wanted to keep some things to herself and not just about her and Quinten.

  She stared at her dad and tried to look at him differently than she’d done as a little girl and up until she’d lost her memory. Her memory was at odds but she knew everything she’d remembered was real. She could hear his raised voice in her ears and Christina’s soft words as she struggled to keep him quiet.

  It had been after a party at the house. Her father was livid and hit Christina across the face, knocking her to the ground. He’d stood over her accusing her of having an affair with Alex.

  Her father hadn’t known Saige was still up, and she’d heard their argument. At the time, Saige had been brokenhearted to discover what her father was really like. She knew Alex thought Christina had been like Jocelyn, when the truth w
as Christina had more or less been like a nun compared to her unfaithful father.

  She had no idea what life had been like at the house for Christina, Saige had always presumed her stepmother tolerated her rather than liked her, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. Christina told her father she’d never leave him as long as Saige still lived at home because she didn’t trust him with her. That had shocked and confused Saige back then, and it confused her all the more now. She wondered what Christina meant by not trusting her father with her.

  “Saige.” Coulter snapped his fingers in front of her face.

  She blinked and her gaze slid from her dad’s face before she focused on Coulter. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Memories of Quinten are bombarding me.”

  Coulter offered her a wry smile. “Walk me out.” He held her gaze, conveying he wanted a minute alone with her.

  Stretching, Saige glanced at the others and followed Coulter into the foyer where he wasted no time in asking her, “Is all your memory back?”

  “I think so.” Saige rubbed at her temples. “I don’t remember much about being held in the shack.” Her heart thumped hard as she gulped down the fear that rose when she thought about it. “I think they must have kept me drugged. There are snippets of pain, and small white hands and wrists.” She stepped outside and moved with Coulter toward his car.

  Coulter turned to her. “I talked to the sheriff and he felt your statement was more rehearsed than what had actually happened. He thought perhaps Christina had coached you...do you remember, Saige?”

  Saige felt the blood leave her face, and then Coulter had a hold of her arm as he shoved her into the car, and crouched down beside her. “Sit and breathe.”

  “I’m okay. My memory is still trying to slip into the correct timeline...It was Christina who told me what to say, but she kept looking at her cell. Thinking about it now, it was as though she was reading from her phone. As though maybe someone else had told her what to tell me.” Saige frowned. “My father influenced my decision over the photograph.”