Obsessed by Darkness

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Obsessed by Darkness Page 28

by Autumn Jordon


  Fifty feet away.

  Forty.

  Thirty. Hope and fear mingled in Emma’s chest as she considered options that could lead to her rescue.

  Twenty. She didn’t see any options that guaranteed no one else would get hurt or die.

  Nan’s paralysis dissipated and she shifted on her seat as an officer approached Emma’s door. She poked Emma with the sling holding the gun barrel, as if Emma needed to be reminded it was there.

  “Don’t say anything, and smile. You look like you’re going to shit your pants.”

  The officer motioned for Emma to lower her window.

  Emma looked at Nan.

  “Do it,” she said softly, “but know this, I will shoot him if you fuck up. Got it?”

  With a slight nod of her head Emma confirmed she understood. Then she pasted a smile on her lips, rolled down the window and turned to the waiting officer.

  “Ma’am.” He touched the brim of his Smokey the Bear hat. “There’s been a major accident involving a tour bus and a dozen other vehicles. We’re asking anyone who has medical training to help in a triage situation until we can transport all the victims. Can you help?”

  She wished now she had volunteered at her local fire company, but she hadn’t and Nan would know that about her. “I’m sorry, but no, I don’t.”

  The officer bent down slightly and peered in the window. “How about you?”

  At the sight of Theresa’s injuries, the officer’s hand went to his hip and Emma’s senses went on alert.

  “Are you Ok, ma’am?” He studied Nan.

  “I’m fine,” Nan hissed sweetly.

  The man’s eyes darted to the vehicle’s rear interior, to Nan and then back to Emma. “Would you mind stepping out of the car? I’ll need your driver’s license and registration.”

  Torn between following the officer’s orders and Nan’s, Emma’s stilled heart transformed into a chaotic thumping mass. They both had guns and she sat between them.

  Fear kept her rooted in place.

  In that split second of hesitation, via the side mirror, Emma saw a woman with spiked hair. She clutched a gun, aimed at the ground, and crept forward alongside the cars. The pixie. Chase’s partner.

  He was there.

  Emma looked up and saw reassurance in the officer’s eyes. She had to grab the opportunity. Her fingers found the lock and the instant it released, the officer flung open the door.

  “No,” Nan’s cold voice bellowed in Emma’s right ear as she turned to exit the SUV. “You. Will. Not. Leave me.”

  Another sound mingled with Nan’s anger-filled growl. The sound was another door opening.

  “Drop the gun.”

  Chase.

  The officer grabbed Emma’s arm and yanked her forward. A loud detonation battered her eardrums. Something slammed into her back and heat filled her lungs. Her pain-filled wail ended when she lay, flat-faced on the gritty blacktop.

  A second blast sounded as if far off in the distance.

  She blinked.

  And saw an ant next to a scuffed shoe.

  Someone threw a cigarette butt out their window. Stupid jerk.

  The grass was so brown.

  Keeping her eyes open was an effort.

  Muffled words filtered into hazy thoughts.

  “Fuckin’ F’in Christ!”

  “Get help!”

  “…dead.”

  Her cheek warmed. Metallic liquid coated her tongue.

  She was so tired.

  Emma’s nostrils flared.

  Chase.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Emma stood watch over the stove and contemplated how Bart’s actions had inadvertently caused the deaths of several people as well as the disappearance of Mark Varklet. Was Bart guilty of all those crimes? Not really, though he was guilty of developing a drug for personal use. Mark, Tony and Nan… No. Mark, Tony and Theresa had committed the crimes. Without Mark to confirm what Theresa had told her, all that was considered hearsay, though it explained a lot.

  Bart’s family made sure the rumor of his involvement stayed squashed and Bart continued his role as the man around campus, like nothing had ever happened. However, there was one change.

  Two actually.

  Bart was watched constantly by his family, the college administrators and the police, and Emma no longer spoke to him.

  Emma’s heart still ached for Mr. and Mrs. Yves. They both had arrived from Italy only to learn their daughter was presumed dead at the hands of a psychopath. The real Nanette’s body had yet to be found. And Mark, he still remained missing, and his case had been turned over to the FBI.

  At the sound of the doorbell’s three-toned chime, Emma jumped and nearly dropped the spatula she held in her free hand. The moment she’d waited weeks for had arrived and suddenly she couldn’t seem to move.

  Steady snow fell outside her kitchen window as she moved toward the door. She turned back and sat the utensil on the caddy so her hands were free. She lowered the temperature on the burner under the skillet to “warm” and then fought her way out of her apron. She caught the neck strap under her hair and exhaled her frustration at having to do everything with one hand, then tossed it on the counter. The doorbell chimed again.

  While she crossed to the front door, Emma scanned the apartment, making sure everything was in place.

  Nature had etched the pane windows with just the right touch of frost. The table was set beautifully with her new dishes. The Christmas tree lights twinkled amongst the green, fragrant branches and soft holiday music floated through the air. Her suburban townhouse looked country cozy.

  As nervous as a field mouse watching a hawk circling above, she swiped a moist palm against her navy slacks and adjusted her V-neck sweater before she released the dead bolt. The second she opened the door and gazed up into the gorgeous eyes of the man who’d saved her life, she knew she had been right to call and invite Chase to Sunday brunch.

  “Hi.” She sounded breathless, but she didn’t care. She wanted Chase in her life. At the very least, she wanted the chance to see if he hoped for the same thing. If not, then—

  “Hi.” He smiled and the dimple she loved, appeared. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You too.”

  His eyes browsed her surroundings, over her head. “Nice place.”

  Suddenly aware she stared at him, daydreaming, for a full five seconds, she rose on her toes and then stepped back. “Come in. It’s freezing.”

  “It is December,” he answered, stomping the snow from his boots.

  “Yes. Yes it is.” She closed the door and gazed at the breadth of his shoulders where snowflakes melted into the black, wool cloth. He was really here.

  She noticed he carried a gift-wrapped box. “What’s that?”

  “For you.” His shy expression warmed her heart as he handed it to her.

  She cradled the present. The box, wrapped in silver paper and adorned with glistening purple ribbon and bow, was definitely wrapped by large fingers, using a vast amount of tape. She knew her eyes sparkled with emotion when she looked back up at him, but she didn’t care.

  “You shouldn’t have, but thank you. Will I open it now or put it under the tree?”

  “Whenever you want.” He shrugged out of his coat.

  “Would you mind hanging your coat up for me?” She dipped her head, indicating her right arm which remained strapped in place. Her surgeon warned her to keep her shoulder immobile as much as possible while it healed.

  Her gaze traveled the length of Chase as he looked around for the closet close by. He didn’t wear his usual Henley and jeans. This morning he’d dressed in black dress slacks and a steel-gray sweater that hugged his trim hips.

  “How is the shoulder?” he asked over his own as he placed his overcoat on a hanger in the front closet.

  “Good. It’s almost healed. The doctor said I should start physical therapy next week. I’ll be glad when I don’t have to wear this contraption.”

 
“I know from experience what you’re feeling. However, don’t rush it.”

  He sure did understand. During her debriefing with the U.S. Marshal Services and the Pennsylvania State Police, she’d learned a little background information on Chase, from Jolene. He had suffered injuries during wartime. Her eyes darted to the skin on the back of his right hand. Luckily he had survived, but not without issues both physically and mentally. Several of his friends had died in the same conflict and he might have survivor’s guilt.

  Chase closed the closet door with a satisfying click.

  “You’re right…about taking time. I will.” She pulled herself from her reverie and smiled at him. “Come.” She led him into the living room.

  “Cathedral ceilings.” He whistled.

  “It’s a one-bedroom upstairs.” She pointed to the short span of railing above the stair landing. “So I get the high ceiling on this side of the apartment.”

  “Sliders to the outside deck too.” He circled the couch. “Very nice.”

  “Thanks.”

  He faced her after scanning the fenced-in area a realtor would call a yard. “I thought you’d stay on campus until graduation?”

  “I couldn’t go back to my apartment. Well, I did, to get my things, but I couldn’t stay there. Too many memories.”

  “I understand.”

  She could see in his eyes he did.

  Suddenly all the anger, fear, hate, joy and love she’d borne these past few months, clashed in her chest and she fought to keep her overwhelming emotion from changing her voice. She clutched the box tighter.

  “I want to thank you and Jolene for everything, including coming to Nan’s funeral.” Emma thought she was the only one to attend, but at the end of the very short service, she’d seen, at a distance, Jolene slide into a gray sedan while Chase stared at her over the car’s roof. He had simply nodded, climbed into the car and driven away. Job done. She knew then the next move had to be hers, if she wanted to see him again.

  “No need for thanks.” A few wrinkles appeared in his forehead. “Why did you go, Emma? You didn’t owe her anything.”

  “I know that. I had to make sure the nightmare was over. I knew if I didn’t go I would have to live with the ‘what if’ for the rest of my life. I chose to be free.”

  “Good. Just as long as you attended for you, and not for her, because Theresa made her choices. She had a rough time growing up, but many children go through hell and still manage to become good people. It’s all about choices.”

  He was right. Life was about making choices, seizing opportunities.

  “I finished my graduate project,” she said, changing the subject. She didn’t want the day to be about their past. “With a little help.” She lifted her right arm slightly. “I defend my thesis over Christmas break, and will graduate in January. I begin work two weeks later.”

  “Congratulations, in advance.”

  “Thank you.” Suddenly feeling a little embarrassed about tooting her future success, she jiggled the gift in her arm and redirected the conversation again. “So, should I open this?”

  He chuckled. “Go ahead. It’s not much, but it reminded me of you.”

  She sat on the couch and repositioned the gift in her lap. Chase took a seat next to her and immediately his cologne surrounded her. His musky scent had a hint of fresh winter air and she longed to bury her nose in his neck and breathe all of him in.

  He gave her a hand by removing the bow, but she managed to rip the paper off on her own. When she saw what the box contained, she laughed. “Sugar cubes.”

  “One thousand and two hundred of them. They should last you awhile.”

  Happiness flooded through her; knowing he had remembered that little detail about her was more than endearing. On an impulse she leaned against him and kissed his cheek.

  “Thank you.”

  She pulled back slightly, tilting her head and watched as the joy in his eyes took on a different tone.

  He cupped her face, holding her in place.

  She traced the strong line of his jaw with her fingertips. He always had a whisker shadow and she loved the roughness of it—one of the many things she found sexy about him.

  “You’re welcome,” he whispered. He lifted the box from her lap and placed it on the coffee table. Then he took her hand and placed it on his chest. His hard muscles moved under her palm as he carefully pulled her closer.

  Emma’s heart pounded, matching the rhythm of Chase’s as his lips covered hers. The kiss held the promise of passion, and a future.

  He held her gaze as she sat back. “Does that kiss mean you’d like to see me again?”

  “Yes.”

  She cocked a brow. “You’d better.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because no one else in my family likes scrapple.”

  He raised his head and sniffed the aroma coming from the kitchen. “Is that what smells so good?” His cocked brow looked doubtful. “You made it?”

  The joy she felt, knowing she made him as happy as he’d made her, widened her grin. “Yes. For you.”

  He lowered his head and whispered against her lips. “I knew I was right about you.”

  THE END

  About the Author

  Autumn Jordon is an award-winning novelist, recognized by the Romance Writers Of America as a Golden Heart Finalist and a Golden Leaf winner, and by the Kindle Book Reviews as a 2013 Best Indie Romance Author Finalist. Autumn states, “Awards are nice but it’s the reviews of my readers that mean so much more to me.”

  CAUTION: She is a quiet nut who has earned the title of “trouble” by her family and friends. If you follow her on Facebook, you’ll see why. Just follow the link on her webpage www.autumnjordon.com and sign up for her occasional, only-when-there-is-breaking-news, newsletter.

  REALLY IT’S OKAY: She loves to travel, making new friends easily along the way. Often, it is on her trips that she dreams of adventures for her characters and schemes of ways to put them into danger of losing their hearts to their one true love— as she did to her own hero.

  Other Titles by Autumn Jordon

  Seized By Darkness

  (voted by Kindle Book Reviews as a Best Indie Romance finalist in 2013)

  Eight long years a hostage, Nicole Carson has lived a nightmare as the mistress of a Mafia lord. When her captor brings home another kidnapped victim, she seizes the opportunity to save herself, her son and the young girl, leaving the Russian for dead. In order to stay alive and save her family from the Mafia family’s wrath she must disappear as if she never existed.

  A sting to bring down the largest human trafficking ring in the country goes south for U.S. Marshal William Haus and his C.U.F.F. team. C.U.F.F. catches a break when the mistress of the Russian kingpin is captured with a kidnapped victim. Will bargains with the beautiful mistress. If she helps secure evidence against the Mafia, she’ll earn a new life for her and her son. But when Will learns Nicole’s true identity, he wants to call the operation off. Nicole begs the handsome marshal to keep her secret and allow her to put her life on the line for her family.

  A game of cat and mouse plays out between the U.S. Marshal and the ruthless Russian. The prize neither man wants to give up is Nicole.

  His Witness To Evil

  (Recognized by Romance Writers Of America 2009 Golden Heart Finalist)

  (Golden Leaf Winner)

  Elementary school nurse Stephanie Boyd’s ordinary world changes forever when she and her children witness a blood bath. To escape the wrath of the Russian Mafia, she has no choice but to help the FBI uncover the Mafia’s mole inside the U.S. Treasury. While on the run with the handsome agent who is willing to die for them, Stephanie learns the meaning of self-sacrifice and love.

  Agent John Dolton’s only break in solving the case that cost him everything is a couple of kids and a beautiful widow. But keeping his witnesses safe seems impossible when their every move is foreseen by their enemy. Within weeks, Stephanie and her children
soften the loner’s heart and John allows himself to let go of his all-consuming sorrow.

  This time John vows not to fail to protect the family he loves.

  Obsessed By Wildfire

  (Autumn Jordon’s first published work)

  A fun romantic contemporary set in the small town of Mule Post, Texas where the nights can get hotter than the summer days.

  Isobel Trinidad vows no man will rope her into the humdrum life of a housewife and take away her dreams of becoming the National Barrel Champion like her father had done to her mother. Her mind is set, until a handsome Yankee comes to Mule Post, Texas and upsets everything she has believed about herself.

  A rash of arsons brings State Fire Marshal Warner Keyson to the small Texas community, where a wildfire of a woman stops him in his tracks. Intrigued by Issy’s fire, he contrives ways to keep her close while conducting his investigation. What they create, which neither of them bargained for, is the blaze of a lifetime.

 

 

 


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