by Terri Reed
All day, he’d been looking forward to spending a relaxed evening with her. Hoping to get to know her better. So far he really liked her. Liked her kind and warm-hearted nature when she wasn’t watching him with wariness in her pretty eyes.
After a dinner of clam chowder, bread and fresh green salad, Sean, Lauren and Aunt Mary moved to the living room. Sean noticed how much more animated and lively Lauren had become throughout the course of the afternoon. She’d slept for another couple of hours before venturing out of her room again.
At one point, when he’d come down for a bottle of water, he’d found the two women chatting away about color schemes and accessories for the rooms he was working on. Somewhere Aunt Mary had found a crutch for Lauren to use. And later, when he’d stopped for the day, he’d discovered them bent over a jigsaw puzzle laid out on the game table in the parlor.
He’d known Lauren would be a good distraction for his aunt and his aunt a good distraction for Lauren. He just hadn’t thought someone as obviously wary as Lauren would bond so soon. Aunt Mary had a way of making people feel welcome.
He wished Lauren would loosen up with him, as well. Earning her trust was becoming very important to him, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.
He sat in a wingback chair close to the warmth of the stone gas fireplace, sipping from a large mugful of cocoa. The day’s newspaper lay next to him waiting to be read. Colorful lights danced on the tree near the front window.
Lauren left the puzzle and, using the crutch, hobbled over to a matching chair next to him, while Mary settled across from them on a small love seat, tucking a blanket around her legs.
“Tell us what it was like growing up in Hollywood,” Mary said.
Sean sat forward. Lauren had opened up that much to Aunt Mary? Being from Hollywood was more telling than just L.A.
A pensive smile touched Lauren’s lips. “Did you ever see the early-nineties TV show 90210?”
Mary shook her head. “I’ve never been big on television.”
“I’ve seen the reruns and the newer version,” Sean offered, thinking of the young and beautiful teens full of angst, navigating high school in a world of wealth and privilege. A world foreign to him. He’d grown up in a middle-class suburb of Portland, full of soccer moms and working dads. He and his siblings had had their share of teen issues—finding the right crowd, having a limited budget for clothes. Certainly having a car was out of the question especially since they lived two blocks from the high school—but nothing as dramatic as what the TV show portrayed.
“I grew up in that same zip code, but my experience was nothing like the show, even though my father was a movie producer. I lived in a middle class part of town.”
Sean figured even middle class Hollywood was more affluent than the suburb he’d grown up in. Lauren didn’t appear pretentious at all. Another reason to admire her.
Mary’s eyes widened with interest. “Ooh, swanky.”
Lauren’s mouth quirked. “He and my mother met on a movie set. She was an extra with stars in her eyes for fame and glory. She chose being the wife of an up-and-coming movie mogul over pursuing her own career. But when I was three, Dad left her for a younger starlet.” She smiled grimly. “Such a cliché.”
Sean’s heart ached for the pain he could tell she was trying to hide. Her father’s desertion of his family had left a wound on her soul. From his experience working with teens, Sean had seen firsthand how devastating an absent father could be on a child. It was always worse when the father remarried and cleaved to his new family, leaving his children to suffer heartbreak.
Remembering Lauren’s comment about her father being dead, he asked, “When did he die?”
“A few years later in a skiing accident in Colorado. From then on it was just Mom and me.”
“And she still lives in Los Angeles?” Mary asked gently.
“Yes. Dad had a big life insurance policy and thankfully, since he hadn’t remarried, the money came to us. Mom still had to work, though. When she couldn’t book consistent acting gigs, she became an agent. She owns her own agency now.”
Lauren exchanged a glance with Sean. “Though at the moment she’s on a cruise. She’ll be back in time for Christmas day.”
“How nice for her,” Mary said. “I’ve always wanted to cruise the Caribbean.”
“You know, Aunt Mary, if you ever want to go on a vacation, I’d be willing to run the place for you,” Sean interjected.
Giving her nephew a thoughtful look, Mary replied, “I just might take you up on that, once the rooms are done.” Mary turned her gaze to Lauren. “Sean tells me you are quite an artist. I would love some fresh pieces for the living room and dining room.”
Lauren paled. “I—I don’t sell my work.”
“You could, though,” Sean stated. “You’ve got the talent, for sure. And I saw several canvasses in your workroom that would work well here if you finished them.”
Dropping her gaze to her folded hands resting on her lap, Lauren muttered, “I don’t paint anymore.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you walk away from such a wonderful gift?”
“It’s complicated,” she said, her eyes flashing with emotion. Hurt, anger? Or was that fear?
A lump formed in his chest. He reached out to cover her clenched hands. What could possibly have frightened her enough to make her stop painting?
Lauren swallowed, unsure how to explain. She hated the question. Hated the answer even more. The Nightmare.
“Sean, dear, obviously this is upsetting to Lauren. Let us tell you what we planned for the third room upstairs,” Mary said.
Grateful for the change in subject, Lauren relaxed as she and Mary explained their ideas. An hour later, Mary tossed the blanket aside and rose. “Children, I’m off to bed.”
“’Night, Aunt Mary,” Sean said.
“Good night,” Lauren said. “Thank you again for allowing me to stay here.”
“My pleasure, dear. You stay as long as you want. I really enjoy having some female company,” Mary said before gliding from the room.
“Would you like some more cocoa?” Sean asked.
Lauren held up her hand, palm out. “No. If I drink any more, I definitely won’t sleep tonight.”
Sean leaned forward to stoke the fire. The warm glow of the dancing flames touched his hair, highlighting the dark auburn and bathing his strong features. Lauren suppressed a sigh. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent such a relaxing evening.
Sean sat back and pinned her with his blue eyes. “Lauren, why haven’t you finished any of your oil paintings?”
She sucked in a breath at the repeated question. So much for relaxing. “I told you, it’s complicated.”
“You obviously have a lot of talent. It seems a shame to let those pieces of half-finished art sit in a room collecting dust.”
She shook her head. “I just…”
Did she dare tell him the truth? Then she’d have to tell him everything, things she hadn’t talked about in a long time, and then only with her therapist. She stared into his eyes, wanting to trust him like she hadn’t trusted anyone since that awful night.
The need to talk became a burden. One that pressed on her heart.
“Can I consider you a friend?” she asked, needing to know they both understood the boundaries of their relationship, boundaries she doubted either of them wanted to cross.
His intense regard made her want to squirm. She held herself still, waiting. It was clear he wanted to hold back. She didn’t blame him. He had seen enough of her scars to know what he was committing himself to.
But he gave a nod and her heartbeat sped up.
“Five years ago something…bad happened.” She nervously watched his face. “I was attacked.”
Shock and distress etched lines in Sean’s face. “Who attacked you?”
She shook her head, not sure she should continue. Because if she did, there would be no turning back.
Sean leaned over to
take her hands in his. The newspaper slipped to the floor. “Who did this to you?”
“A man named Adrian Posar.”
Just saying his name aloud brought back a rush of terror, shuddering down her spine. Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled and then continued. “I was working late in my studio when he broke in. The police said he entered through a back window, as was his M.O.”
Sean’s face paled. “He’d done it before?”
She nodded. “He was a serial rapist plaguing Westwood, where I lived.”
Sean jerked in reaction, but she clung to his hand and forced herself to continue. “He’d raped and killed four other women. The police were sure he picked the women randomly. Maybe watched them for a day or so before making his move. Me, I worked most nights in the studio after my employees left. I was an easy target, I guess.” She let out a self-deprecating scoff. “Just like last night.”
Sean squeezed her hand. She could see how upset this was making him. She considered stopping but it was too late. “When he attacked me, we struggled. A candle was knocked over. Paint solvent spilled and ignited. We were both burned in the fire.”
Sean closed his eyes briefly as if in pain. His eyes jerked open. “The assailant last night wasn’t…?”
“No,” she assured him quickly. “I thought so at first, but Adrian Posar’s in prison.”
“That’s—that’s a relief,” he said. “But then, who was that guy last night?”
With a shrug, she replied, “Random, I guess.”
She stared at the dancing flames in the fireplace. It had taken her two years before she could bear to even see a fire, let alone sit close enough to feel the warmth.
For a moment silence stretched between them.
“How bad is the scarring?” Sean finally asked, his voice so soft, so tender she wanted to cry.
His rapt attention never strayed as she told him of the grueling treatment in the burn center, the grafting and painful process of physical therapy. When she ran out of words, she wiped at the stray tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’ve never understood what I did to deserve this.”
Sean took her other hand, his palms warm and comforting. “Lauren, what happened was not your fault.”
His gentle but firm rebuke stirred her anger. “But why did God allow it? He’s in control. I know that. So why didn’t He prevent the Nightmare?”
Her words tumbled out before she realized what she was saying. She felt guilty for voicing the questions that plagued her.
“We don’t always understand God’s ways. I’m sure there’s some purpose.”
Rage nearly choked her. “What possible purpose could this serve?” She waved a hand down her side.
“Sometimes things happen so that we might learn to trust, not in ourselves, but in God.” Sean’s patient voice soothed some of her ire. “Like the Apostle Paul, we might learn to be content in every circumstance.”
Disbelief clouded her vision. “So you’re saying I had a lesson to learn? That God used the attack as a means to teach me something?”
She didn’t like what that said about her. Or God. She’d been told all her life that God was a loving God. And she’d always thought she had trusted God, but…Sean squeezed her hand, drawing her attention.
“No, I don’t think God condoned this madman’s actions. But God does give us, all of us, free will.”
“He shouldn’t give evil people free will,” she said, her voice thick with anger.
“If only it were that simple.” He lifted her chin with his hand until their gazes met. “I know God wept with you. But I also firmly believe God has a plan for your life. And He uses our circumstances for good. Even the bad circumstances. Have you ever heard the story of Queen Ester?”
“Of course.” Ester’s story was a biblical fairy tale. A beautiful commoner became a queen, saved her people and won the love of the king. What little girl wouldn’t love that story? But Lauren wasn’t a child anymore.
“Her life, her rise to royalty, culminated in one great opportunity to serve God. Your life and this tragic event might be used one day to serve God.”
A cynical scoff escaped her. “How?”
“Only God can reveal His intent to you, but you must be open and willing to listen to Him. He loves you. You are His child.”
She knew Sean meant well. And she wanted to believe his words. But too much anger, too much cynicism had built up around her heart.
Tilting her head to one side, she searched his face. “You should be a pastor or counselor or something. You’re very good. Have you ever thought of changing careers?”
Pain flashed in his eyes. “I—” He shook his head, as if telling himself not to speak. His expression turned distant and she could feel his emotional withdrawal acutely as he released her hands. “It’s late. You should really rest. I’ll assist you to your room.”
A little hurt and confused by the chasm forming between them, she allowed him to help her to her feet and took his arm for support. A quick glance at his face revealed his tight jaw and shadowed eyes. Why wouldn’t he talk about himself? What was he hiding?
Despite everything, a yearning for the evening to continue tugged at her heart. She wanted to find out more about Sean, but obviously he had no intention of sharing himself with her. She shouldn’t be surprised. She wasn’t a permanent fixture in his life. His duty to her would soon be over. She had to remember her resolve not to become attached to Sean—there would only be hurt and sorrow down that road. She’d had enough of both to last several lifetimes.
Fumbling with her crutch, she took a hobbled step forward and nearly slipped on the newspaper beneath her feet. She glanced down and froze. The headline on the Cannon Beach Daily blazed before her eyes. Her breath seized in her chest.
California Prison Fire. One Officer Dead. Inmate Escapes.
Clutching Sean’s arm with one hand, Lauren pointed to the paper and choked out, “What does the rest of the headline story say?”
Sean bent to retrieve the newsprint. His eyes widened as he read the article. When he lifted his gaze, she sucked in a panicked breath at the horror clouding the blue of his eyes.
“Adrian Posar has escaped.”
FIVE
“Lauren, I’ve been trying to reach you for hours,” Detective Jarvis said in a voice grave with concern.
Lauren tightened her hold on the receiver. After seeing the jarring news article, Sean had helped her into the kitchen where she’d used the phone to call the detective. Her heart slammed against her ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. “Is it true? Did he escape?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
A tidal wave of horror crashed over her, knocking the breath from her lungs and sending her mind reeling. Her worst fears had been confirmed.
“Where are you staying? I’ll have the police there in Cannon Beach come get you,” the detective said.
“I’m safe for now.” Anxiety twisted in the pit of her stomach. “But it would be good if you alerted them. They need to know who they’re dealing with.” She quickly told him of the attack on the beach and the scare at the hospital. She wasn’t crazy. Not this time. This time her worst fears had materialized.
“I don’t know how he found out where you are or how he managed to get up there so quickly,” Jarvis said in a voice harsh with rage.
How could God let this happen again? Fresh fear and anger converged to create a toxic mixture bubbling in her veins. She tried to think, to formulate a plan. She had to leave. Now, before Adrian attacked again. Next time, she might not be so blessed as to have Sean rescue her.
“I have to leave. I have to go someplace where he can’t find me,” she said into the phone, as tension built in her chest, making her ache.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. He could be watching you right now, waiting for you to be alone. He’d only follow you. Stay put. I’ll have the police camp outside your door.”
“I’m not at my house,” she told him. “I’m at a frien
d’s.”
And she was putting Sean and his aunt in jeopardy by being here. Dismay throbbed at her temple. She’d hate for anything to happen to these nice people who’d taken her in and shown her such kindness. “Maybe the police should take me home.”
“No!” Sean said from behind her.
She whipped her head around to look at him. “But I’m putting you and Mary in danger.”
“You’ll be in more danger alone. You can’t physically fight him or run from him with your injured foot. You’re staying here,” Sean stated, his voice firm.
Her heart squeezed tight. She wanted to put her trust, her life in Sean’s hands, but did she dare? If anything happened to him or Mary, she’d never forgive herself.
“I agree, Lauren,” came Detective Jarvis’s voice over the line. “I doubt Posar will try anything as long as you’re with other people. He’s a coward at heart.”
A viselike band of dread squeezed her around the middle. “I hope you’re right,” she said. “I’ll stay here.”
“Good. I need the phone number and address. I’ll be on the next plane out of L.A. I want to nail Posar to the wall.”
Glad to hear the detective would come, Lauren handed the phone over to Sean so he could give Jarvis the needed information.
“Don’t worry. I’m not about to let anything happen to her,” Sean said before hanging up the phone.
Guilt for burdening Sean with her trouble weighed heavily on her heart. She laid a hand on his arm. “Thank you.”
He covered her hand with his, the pressure sure and warm. “I made a promise to take care of you. I don’t renege on my promises. Besides, we have God on our side.”
Tears of gratefulness burned the back of her eyes. Sean was a man of honor and integrity. A man who kept his promises. She could only hope his promise didn’t get him or Mary killed.
Sean dragged one of the wingback chairs from the living room into the hall and stationed himself outside Lauren’s room. Light from the wall sconce reflected off the baseball bat lying at his feet. No one was getting past him to Lauren. He would protect her with everything in him.
