My Hero

by Kelly, Sahara

  He frowned, as he realized that she really should keep it locked.

  “Peta? Hey Peta, it’s Max...”

  The house seemed quiet. He glanced into the kitchen, but it was empty. There was a box of tissues on the table, but everything else was tidy.

  Max frowned a little. Had she gone out? Dammit to fucking hell. She wouldn’t. Not right now.

  He peeped into the dining room to see if she was working, but her laptop was closed. All was silent.

  Okay. She was upstairs. In her bedroom. Good. Saved them both some time.

  “Peta, it’s me...” He hurried up the stairs.

  “In here, Max.” The voice came from her bedroom.

  Max opened the door.

  And froze.

  Peta was lying on the bed, wearing only her panties. Lying on top of her, squeezing and licking her breast—was Struthers.

  He raised his head and grinned at Max. “Good to see you, Wolfe. Always glad to welcome a third to the party. Come on over and get some of this, why don’t you?” He nodded at Peta’s bared breasts.

  Max couldn’t breath. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even formulate a thought.

  “Max, it’s not...what you think...” She gasped and thrust her breasts upwards.

  “Oh, but it is, Peta dear. Max knows a slut when he sees one. Hell, Diana probably showed him how to handle a three-way. Max knows women well, you see. Isn’t that so, dear boy?”

  The dear boy was completely at a loss, stunned by the sight in front of him, and brain aching from trying to comprehend what he saw.

  At first glance Peta appeared a willing participant, welcoming Struthers’s mouth on her. Her back was arched towards him. But her eyes...

  Max stared into her eyes.

  “Max,” she whispered. “Please, trust in me.”

  And there it was.

  The evidence was right before his eyes, but she was asking him to trust her. Could he? Should he?

  Did he love her enough to trust her?

  Shit, yes.

  “I trust you

  “Pity,” murmured Struthers. He cast a longing glance over Peta’s almost naked body. “It would have been fun, I think. For all of us.”

  He moved off her and revealed the hand that had been pressing into Peta’s spine beneath her.

  The hand that held a rather serviceable gun.

  Max swallowed. “Oh fuck.”

  “Quite,” answered the imperturbable Struthers.

  *~*~*~*

  Peta found herself pushed from the bed onto the floor as Struthers stood, gun firmly held in his hand.

  She scrambled over to Max, and he automatically reached for her.

  “Leave her be,” came the sharp command. “Don’t move. Either of you.”

  Hell, what chance did she have? She was damn near stark naked, and facing a madman with a gun. This was so crazy.

  “Struthers, I don’t understand,” she said. Keep him talking, her mind told her. Distract him. Divert his attention so that Superman could fly in through the window and disarm him. Anything.

  But the small barrel never wavered from Max’s heart.

  “What’s not to understand?” asked Struthers. “The book is mine. That Bible has been mine all along. It was stolen from me years ago.”

  Peta sighed. So that was it. This was all about that dratted Bible. And the money.

  “You probably think it’s the money, don’t you?” Struthers giggled, an unpleasant sound that warned Peta this was not someone intent on simple robbery. He was too near the edge.

  Peta nodded. “Of course. That book is worth a lot.”

  Max moved slightly. “Just take the fucking thing, Struthers. Just take it. It’s not worth...this...” He gestured at the gun, but froze as Struthers’s hand moved upwards a quarter of an inch.

  “Oh, but I can’t do that, you see. Too many people know I’ve been inquiring about it.”

  “But,” frowned Peta. “I thought it was Edward who wanted that information.”

  Struthers glanced down at her with a disdainful expression. “You were meant to. I had to cover my tracks here in Mayfield, didn’t I? But they know me in Boston. They know that it has been my life’s goal to get that book back into my family. Did you know—“ His tone was almost chatty, and Peta tried to forget that he was pointing a gun at the two of them

  “—That book was stolen from my family over a hundred years ago? I found out about it quite by accident, and then I knew.”

  “Knew what?” asked Peta.

  “Knew that it was ordained for me to return it to where it belonged. I was a librarian. I had the resources. Fate had put me in the perfect position to track it down. Of course, I didn’t have the wherewithal to purchase it outright, not many people do.” He paused thoughtfully.

  “And so?” drawled Max.

  Peta wanted to laugh hysterically. Max sounded almost—bored by the whole thing. And yet, from her position on the floor, she could see the slight tremble that shook him. Max Wolfe was not bored at all.

  She prayed that he wouldn’t do anything silly. They had to get out of this alive. She had things to tell him.

  As if he heard her, his eyes dropped and met hers for a second or two. She sighed as she saw his raw emotions churning. He was as tense as she was.

  “And so,” continued Struthers. “And so here I am. I thought I could get it from Sandra, but she tried to play games with me. Stupid bitch.”

  “And you killed her,” said Max flatly.

  “Yes, I did. And you know what?” Struthers licked his lips. “It was quite fun. You see I was fucking her at the time. She came and went, so to speak.”

  He giggled again at his own pun, and Peta swallowed down bile.

  “Of course, it was annoying. But it really did reinforce my determination to get the Bible.”

  “What about Mike Dean?” asked Peta hoarsely.

  “Ah yes. The late unlamented Mr. Dean. What an idiot he was. Do you know he actually thought he could blackmail me? I have to assume that Sandra’s mouth was bigger than her brain. She’d blabbed to him everything she knew. So, of course, being the thickheaded lout he was, he tried to turn it to his advantage.”

  Struthers shook his head in disgust.

  “So you disposed of him too?” Max’s voice cut through the room.

  “Yes indeed. Quite nice, that one was. Something so satisfying about the feeling of a sharp knife sliding between a couple of ribs. Which reminds me, I do have to apologize...” He glanced down at Peta.

  “I had no intentions of having Dean die on your doorstep, my dear. Much too uncivilized. But it seems that his heart was a lot stronger than I imagined. He managed to survive my knife, the trunk of my car, and the cold weather. Finally,” Struthers snickered. “It was the snowplow that finished the job. Classic case of comedic tragedy, isn’t it?”

  He was mad. Clearly, undoubtedly, raving mad. Peta’s blood turned to ice as the full realization hit her.

  Struthers was going to kill them both. There was no way he’d be telling them all this unless he knew they’d be permanently silenced.

  “What about us?” she breathed.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Max had no idea how he managed to stay still as he listened to the insane ravings of Struthers and watched the gun in his hand.

  If Peta hadn’t been on the floor between them, he’d have rushed the guy and taken his chances. But if he should fail...his heart nearly stopped at the thought of her left alone to face this madman.

  “Yes, what about us, Struthers? Oh and don’t forget Phoebe. She knows too.”

  Struthers shook his head sadly. “Yes, poor Phoebe. I’m afraid I’m going to have to arrange for a slight accident there, my boy. Dear Phoebe. I couldn’t bring myself to do her any harm personally. She’s too sweet.” He sighed. “This terrible weather. Cars go off the road all the time. Yours did, Peta. It’ll be a dreadful coincidence when Phoebe’s suffers the same fate. A simple fault in her brake lines...you
know the sort of thing.”

  Max heard Peta’s swallow as she digested this information. He stepped slightly to one side away from her.

  The gun followed him. “I said don’t move,” Struthers rapped out.

  “So what are you going to do with us? Remember, there’s two of us. And don’t think we won’t do everything we can to stop you,” warned Max.

  “Bloody right,” echoed Peta firmly.

  Max hoped he was the only one who heard that slight quaver in her brave words.

  Struthers snickered. “Oh you two have made it all too easy. Why, I daresay the whole town is talking about the way you’ve moved in here, Max. And Peta hasn’t kept very many things secret. Cary Stiles is still pissed that you told him you two were sleeping together.”

  “I did not,” said Peta crossly. “He deduced that all by himself.”

  “No matter. It all adds to my story. Such a sad story too. You see, Max was about to leave you, my dear. You, being a reserved Englishwoman, stored up all your hurt and your pain. And when Max here returned from his trip to the realtor, you couldn’t stand it any more.”

  “And she shoots me. What then? She turns the gun on herself?” Max’s words dripped ice.

  Struthers raised an eyebrow. “Very good, Max. I’m impressed. And here I thought you didn’t actually read anything but the articles in Playboy.”

  Max’s eyes narrowed. “It won’t work, Struthers. People know us in Mayfield. They won’t believe it for a minute.”

  Struthers let out that peculiarly horrible giggle and Peta shuddered on the floor. “Oh but it will work, Max. I’m very careful, you see. I like to take my time.” He glanced down at Peta.

  “And dear Peta’s body is going to be quite ravished, don’t you know. I’m afraid it will be quite obvious that you’ll have been having rough sex before the end. There will be no doubt in anyone’s mind what went on. In fact...”

  He looked quickly around the room before snapping back into focus on Max. “You two have already set up quite enough evidence to persuade any investigator that sex took place in here.”

  Struthers paused and raised an eyebrow. “By the way, how was she? Any good?”

  It was the last straw for Max.

  The first woman he’d ever loved was practically naked at his feet and a madman was holding them immobile at the end of a gun.

  He’d had quite enough. A red film of fury rose up behind his eyeballs, and his lips peeled back from his teeth as his anger grew.

  “Like I’d tell you,” he scoffed. “Although hearing it would probably turn you on, wouldn’t it? I doubt that much else can. If you have to strangle a woman while you’re fucking her, you’re probably useless the rest of the time. Can’t get it up, huh, Struthers? Got a needle-dick there? A teeny problem? Ever think of trying Viagra?”

  Struthers hand was shaking now. Definitely shaking.

  “You filth,” he spat at Max. “You fucking piece of ignorant shit. You nail every piece of cunt you can lay your hands on and you dare insult me?”

  Max tensed. He had to get Struthers boiling. So angry that he’d lose focus. It was their only chance.

  “Sure I dare. You’re some limp-dicked piece of crap who gets off fucking dead women. There’s a name for that you know. Necrophilia. Ever heard of it? I can even spell it.”

  Unbelievably, he heard a quick chuckle from Peta. “You know, you’re probably right, Max. I doubt if he’s got anything in those pants besides that gun of his.”

  Oh Christ, no. Peta. Max tried to send mental messages to her. Don’t aggravate him. That’s my job. I don’t want him shooting you. I can’t live without you.

  Struthers was sweating now, his hand wavering as his control slipped. “We’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?”

  Max braced himself to move any which way he could once Struthers’s finger tightened on the trigger. He met the man’s eyes, watching for a sign that the moment was coming.

  Like two gunfighters sizing each other up on some dusty western street, he faced Struthers and the gun, waiting, heart pounding, for the moment when he could release the adrenaline bottled up inside him.

  Struthers laughed.

  Now.

  *~*~*~*

  The next minutes seemed to pass in slow motion before Peta’s horrified eyes. Her brain stopped working, and her automatic reflexes took over.

  As Struthers laughed, she could see his hand tense and knew that he fully intended to shoot Max, right there, in her bedroom.

  It was something she couldn’t allow. Every molecule in her body screamed out against it. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—lose him.

  Gathering her strength, Peta bounded up from the floor just as Struthers raised the gun and aimed at Max.

  The sound of a shot rang in her ears, deafening her as it resounded through the bedroom.

  Peta screamed and fell against Max, knocking him off-balance, tumbling them both down in a heap.

  Another voice cut through the confusion.

  “Stay down.” Another shot followed.

  Peta turned her head and watched, stunned, as a horrible red stain appeared on Struthers’ chest.

  He seemed surprised as he lowered his gaze to his jacket. “Good heavens,” he muttered. Slowly crumpling to the floor, the gun dropped from his limp fingers and clattered down beside him.

  “Peta, Max...are you all right? Peta?”

  Frank Summers stood in the doorway, his service revolver still gripped firmly in his hands.

  Peta wanted to giggle. He looked like something out of every police drama she’d ever seen on TV.

  “Oh sheeeiiiitt...” His voice was horrified and Peta followed his gaze downwards, looking at her own body.

  She swallowed. Her white skin was no longer white. There was a neat hole just above her left breast, and her blood was flowing freely down and onto Max who was terribly still beneath her.

  “Oh bollocks.”

  She vaguely heard Frank yelling into his walkie talkie, and then…her world went dark.

  *~*~*~*

  Somewhere, birds were singing. It was a soothing sound, and Max lay quiet, relishing the liquid notes that poured over him along with a gentle breeze.

  Slowly, memories returned.

  A gun. A shot. Struthers. Peta.

  Peta.

  Max jerked frantically, opening his eyes wide in fear.

  He was in a large room, with soft drapes moving slightly near the open windows. He was in bed, and as he turned, he saw Peta lying next to him. She was very still. He raised himself up on one elbow and stared at her.

  She was pale, but her chest was moving beneath the sheet.

  Max offered up a prayer of thanks. Tears sprang into his eyes. They were probably both dead, but at least they were together.

  Gently he stroked her skin, loving the softness and the warmth beneath his fingers. There was so much he wanted to say to her, to tell her, but for now, he was quite content to lie next to her and watch her as she slept.

  This had to be heaven. It was a miracle that they’d allowed him in, for sure, but an eternity next to Peta would be his own private heaven. Perhaps St. Peter had a soft spot for reformed superstuds.

  He felt his cock twitch in approval as his hands brushed her flesh. Oh good. Sex was allowed in Heaven too. Things just got better and better.

  He leaned over and dropped a gentle kiss on the pulse at the base of her neck, and she stirred, sighing a little and letting her lips curve into a small grin.

  “Hi sweetheart,” he murmured.

  “Hi yourself,” she mumbled back. “You all right?”

  He smiled. “Never better. I’m next to you and we’re in bed. I have no idea where, and right at this moment I don’t care.”

  Peta slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. He saw his world reflected in her gray depths and his heart thudded as she raised a hand to stroke his cheek.

  He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I love you, Peta. I was almost too late to s
ay it. But I do. I love you.” He dropped another kiss, this time on her lips.

  “That’s bloody brilliant, Max,” she grinned. “Because I love you too.” Her joy dimmed. “But Struthers...the gunshot...”

  “I don’t know, honey. I think—“ He glanced around the strange room. “—I think we may be, er, dead?”

  A light laugh sounded from the foot of the bed.

  “No, Max, you’re not dead.”

  A tall man stood there, with a woman beside him. His eyes were a very unusual color, and they were both dressed in flowing robes. No wings, though. And Max couldn’t remember ever seeing pictures of angels that looked like these two.

  The woman was incredibly beautiful, with raven black hair hanging past her waist, and the man’s arm was holding her close. They looked...they looked right together.

  Peta gripped the sheet firmly and struggled up onto the pillow, with a slight frown. “I remember you.”

  “Good,” answered the man. “You should. We asked you to fulfill a special mission for us, and you have succeeded. The proof is lying beside you.” He nodded at Max.

  Who managed to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Okay. I’m confused. You say we’re not dead. But even a moron could tell that this isn’t Mayfield. So where the hell are we?”

  The man moved to the bed as the woman perched beside Peta. “It’s a rather complicated story, Max, but to get to the root of the matter, you are in a place called Anyela. It’s sort of—out of time—as you know it. It’s where we keep an eye on the Universe. Make sure it’s running smoothly. That sort of thing.”

  Max skeptically raised one eyebrow. “Right.”

  “No really. It’s true. I remember this place—these people. I was here before. Right after my car crashed.” Peta turned to him. “Honestly. It’s all coming back to me.”

  “You sure you don’t have something in that tea caddy besides tea?”