by Ivy Layne
I held him against me as he came, the thump of his heart against mine so intimate it brought tears to my eyes. His body relaxed and I became aware of wetness between my thighs.
We hadn't used a condom.
Shit.
Lucas pulled away, realizing our mistake only a second after me.
"It's okay," I said when he turned green eyes filled with guilt in my direction. "As long as you're clean, it's okay. I'm on the pill, and I haven't had sex since I was last tested—except with you."
"I'm clean," he said immediately.
"Okay. Then we're okay."
We'd gone from the most intense sex of my life to chilly and awkward in the space of a minute. I rolled out of bed, suddenly desperate to be alone.
"Bathroom?" I asked. Lucas pointed to a door on the other side of the room. I shut the door behind me, trying to ignore the ache in my heart. This would be so much easier if we'd stuck to having sex.
Lucas's bathroom was masculine and plush, with river rock detailing around his enormous shower and more of those cool poured concrete countertops holding custom sinks of amber glass.
Not eager to face Lucas yet, I stepped into the shower. It took a minute to figure out the dual shower heads, but once I did, I was tempted to stay all night. I didn't. Keeping my hair out of the spray, I washed my body with Lucas's soap, the scent spicy and deep, and braved the bedroom again.
Lucas was tucked into his king size bed, taking the side closest to the door, as he had at my house.
"I put your stuff in the drawers closest to the door," he said.
"Thanks." I got a nightshirt, trying not to enjoy the way my things looked neatly stacked in Lucas's dresser.
It doesn't mean anything, I reminded myself.
Crawling into bed, I rolled to my side and closed my eyes, pretending to sleep. Lucas said nothing, just pulled me across the mattress until he could tuck me into his side.
His body surrounding me with warmth, I fell asleep.
Sometime later, I woke to the discordant tone of two phones sounding the same alarm, but out of sync. My phone and Lucas's phone. The perimeter alarm.
The perimeter alarm at my house.
I shot upright in bed to see Lucas grabbing his phone off the nightstand. He checked the screen, scowled, and dialed.
I couldn't make out everything he was saying as he pulled on his clothes, the phone pinned between his shoulder and his ear. When I started to get up, he spun on his heel to face me. Pointing a finger at me, he wordlessly commanded me to stay put.
I ignored him.
I wasn't going to do anything stupid, but it sounded like people were on their way and I was wearing a nightshirt with a cartoon moose on the front. I needed clothes.
"Yeah, as long as the cameras are recording it, I'll stay put and wait for the black and whites. Yeah. Yeah. You have a clear shot of his face? Yeah. Call me back."
"What's going on?" I asked.
"I told you to stay there," Lucas accused.
"No, you pointed at me. And I'm not going anywhere, I'm just getting dressed. What's going on?"
"Someone is trying to force open your door. They don't know we have them on camera, and he's still there. The police are on their way. Brennan and a black and white. He'll try to keep it quiet."
"Was that Brennan on the phone?"
"No, Cooper. He called Brennan before I called him."
"What are you doing?" I asked, watching him tie the laces of his boots and strap his gun into a side holster.
"Waiting here with you. You're not in danger. We're better off letting the police arrest this guy than for me to go charging over there. The longer he tries to break and enter while he's on film, the better for us."
"Can I look out the window?"
Lucas sighed. "Can I talk you out of it?"
"I don't think so."
"Fine, follow me. Don't turn on any lights."
I followed Lucas through the dark house to the living room. Two floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the fireplace faced my house. I pressed my face to the glass, but the night was dark and I could barely see anything. A shadowy figure moved on my porch. It looked like they were prying at the door with a crowbar.
What the hell?
That wasn't exactly subtle. It was like he didn't care about being caught. Or he was sure no one was home. But I thought Lucas and Brennan said Hayward knew I had security.
"I can't see anything," I whispered.
"I know. Try this." Lucas pulled me back from the window, leading me back into the hall before passing me his tablet, the view from the security cameras already up.
Evers had installed high-definition night vision cameras. I already knew they looked clear and crisp in daylight. I was shocked how much detail I could see at night.
"I don't think that's Hayward," I said after a minute.
"I'm sure it's not. He wouldn't put himself on the hook for breaking and entering. It's probably someone he hired."
Two cars swung into the driveway out of nowhere. Doors slammed and I heard shouts. A figure vaulted onto the porch and tackled the intruder, startling her into a long, high-pitched scream.
Wait. Her? That was a woman's scream.
A woman?
What the hell was going on?
Lucas shot for the door, me on his heels.
"Stay here," he ordered.
"No way," I said. The intruder was down, contained by the police. I'd seen it myself. And I wanted to know who she was.
"Goddamnit. Then stay behind me."
It must have been relatively safe. Lucas never would have let me leave the house if it weren't. We raced out the front door and across our driveways to find two uniformed officers standing in my yard and Detective Brennan on my porch putting handcuffs on the intruder.
Once I hit the bottom step and saw her face, I gasped.
"Marissa Archer?" I said in disbelief.
Her head swiveled to face me and her eyes lit with a fervor that had me stepping back.
"Olivia. Olivia. You're dead," she screeched, calling me by my mother's name. "You were murdered. Murdered. No one believes it, no one listens. It wasn't Hugh, it was him. It was him. They knew and he killed them. He killed them all. Olivia."
"What do you mean?" I asked, my head spinning.
Marissa Archer was the last person I would have suspected of stalking me. I barely knew her. We were social acquaintances at best. She'd been friends with my parents when they were younger but they hadn't been especially close. I'd remember that. She was little more than a stranger.
Detective Brennan leaned down to pick something up from the porch while Marissa Archer continued to wail my mother's name. He held up a square envelope.
I'd seen something like that before and I knew what he'd find when it opened it. I was wrong, but not by much.
I'd expected another crime scene photograph of my aunt and uncle's death like those that Jacob and Vance had received.
Almost.
This one was of my parents. I didn't need to see it to know. The way Detective Brennan looked from me to the photo and back told me everything.
"It's my parents, isn't it?" I asked. He nodded.
Marissa was still calling out my mother's name, desperate to make herself understood.
Ignoring everyone else, I stepped closer to Marissa and said, "Who was it, Marissa? Who killed them? Do you know?"
Nodding her head so hard I thought she'd knock herself off-balance, she said, "I know it all. I know all the secrets, I know everything."
"Who was it?" I demanded, my heart surging in my chest. Never in my life had I ever needed to know anything as much as I needed to know this.
Could Marissa Archer really know who killed my parents? It seemed impossible.
Her eyes burning with a desperate fervor, she leaned toward me and whispered, "He knows someone knows, but he doesn't know who. Left me for her. That stupid slut. He killed them. Killed them all. And I'm the only one who knows. The picture
s make him crazy. He's scared now."
"Charlie, step back," Lucas said, trying to drag me away from the insane woman on my porch.
I yanked my arm free.
"No, Lucas, I want to know."
He grabbed my arm again and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Princess, step back. She's nuts. She doesn't have anything to tell you."
"She does, Lucas," I hissed back. "She knows something."
He shook his head. Proving him right, Marissa began to sway back and forth, singing to herself, "All over. All over now. He can't find me, he can't find me."
"Who?" I shouted, trying to break through her descent into madness. "Who killed them? Who can't find you?"
Her head shot up and her bright eyes met mine. The singing stopped. In a clear, level, almost sane voice, she said, "Tell them. Tell them he's still out there. And he's not done. Not yet."
Her head dropped, her eyes closed, and she fell silent.
What the fuck? What did that mean? Okay, it was obvious what that meant. It was either a warning or a threat.
He's still out there. And he's not done.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHARLIE
Marissa Archer was brought into police custody and charged with attempted breaking and entering. Attempted because she never managed to use the crowbar to get my door open.
After reviewing the cameras at Jacob's penthouse, the police and the Sinclair team were all confident that she was responsible for leaving the photographs there, as well as at Magnolia's house.
Her son quickly and quietly had her put in permanent psychiatric care. She wouldn't be leaving any more creepy pictures. She wouldn't be doing much of anything. Since she'd told me the killer was still out there, she hadn't spoken a word.
To anyone.
Not the police, not her son, not her lawyer.
No one.
Problem solved. Everyone seemed satisfied that Marissa was my stalker. It made sense. She could have hired someone to leave the note and spray paint my house. She could even have been the one who jumped me, though she could have hired that out as well.
She wasn't young, but she was tall and wiry. Apparently, she played a lot of tennis at the club when she wasn't terrorizing my family.
Lucas had been gone almost all day, leaving me alone at my house. He warned me to keep the alarm on while I was inside, but with Marissa in custody, everyone was less worried about my safety.
I'd told him he didn't have to come to the benefit with me. I still didn't know if he was coming as my bodyguard or my date. I was leaning toward date since he didn't seem to think I needed a bodyguard and had insisted he was coming.
Maggie brought my dress from Winters House and stayed long enough to help me do my hair and grill me about Lucas.
Despite the upheaval of Aiden's announcement that Gage was missing, Maggie hadn't missed the tension between Lucas and me at dinner.
In between twisting and pinning my chin-length curls into a simulation of an updo, she peppered me with questions.
"So, he's still going to the benefit with you?" she asked, too casually.
"He says he is," I said.
"What's the deal? He was all growly and protective last night, and everyone seems to like him. Are you still just friends with benefits?"
"Do I have to talk about this?" I asked. Magnolia Henry was my best friend. If I was going to talk about this with anyone, it would be her. But I didn't want to talk about Lucas. Not even with Maggie.
Proving yet again why she was my best friend, she gave my shoulder a squeeze and said, "No, Charlie, you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to. Did I tell you about my dress for tonight?"
Grateful for her change of subject, I said, "No. Why? What are you wearing?"
"I was going to wear something I already had," she said. "But Vance surprised me and took me shopping, and then he talked me into buying this dress . . . I'm going to be blushing all night, I swear."
"Why? Is it really short?" Maggie had a bombshell figure, all curves. She rarely dressed to show them off.
"No, it's actually pretty long, but it's got a slit up one leg, and a deep V neckline . . ." She trailed off.
"Cleavage?" I asked. Maggie had a lot to offer in the cleavage department, even if she usually kept it covered up.
"Yes. A lot of cleavage. Not tacky cleavage, but still. A lot. And he bought me these crazy shoes. I don't know what he was thinking. On top of that, he made me promise to wear my hair down."
"Like the night you got engaged?" I asked.
"Exactly," she confirmed.
"I bet he drags you out of there before it's halfway over." I didn't have to look at Maggie's face to know she was blushing.
"I'm not gonna take that bet."
"Do you need me to help?" I asked.
I'd done her hair for her the night she'd gotten engaged to Vance. She'd looked like a siren in a black wrap dress and all that red hair in wild curls. I wasn't surprised Vance had begged her to marry him. He was too smart to let go of a woman like Maggie.
"Not this time, but thanks. I got a new curling iron and Vance is watching Rosie while I get dressed."
Maggie finished with my hair, gave me a hug, and rushed off to get ready. I didn't spend too long on my makeup. I could do business appropriate makeup in ten minutes and black tie makeup in twenty.
I'd probably look better if I learned to contour and shade and do all those other things to ramp up the glamor, but I'd never learned and tonight wasn't the time to start.
Just before Lucas was due to show up, I finished my face and put on my dress. I'd bought it months before, planning to wear it to a different event, one I hadn't ended up attending. It was formal, definitely black tie formal.
Unlike Maggie's dress, which I suspected was on the slinky side, my dress was a fairytale. Yards of creamy satin in a silver so pale it was almost white, overlaid with a fine netting sprinkled with tiny crystals.
The bodice was strapless and embellished with more crystals and finely stitched embroidery in the palest pink, the back held together with lacing, like a corset.
The dress was more fanciful than those I usually wore, but I'd fallen in love with the sheen of the satin and the sparkle of the crystals the moment I'd seen it.
It had been more expensive than what I'd planned to spend, but I'd talked myself into it when I'd remembered that I had the perfect shoes to match waiting in my closet.
I was halfway dressed when Lucas walked in, already in his tux. Heat flushed my skin and my nipples peaked.
Lucas looked good in anything, but in a tux, he made me crazy. All that black-and-white elegance wrapped around his raw strength. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off him all night.
When he saw me, his eyes went wide and he froze.
"What? Is the dress no good?" It was a little over the top between the sparkles and the full skirts. Maybe it was too much.
He shook his head.
"Can you help me with the back?" I asked.
There was a zipper hidden in the side seam, but I still needed the wide satin laces tightened so they didn't droop. Lucas moved behind me and went to work, pulling on the laces here and there until he had them in place.
He gave a last tug at the bottom, pulling me backward so I bumped into him. Slowly, he tied the lacing in a bow and secured it, then leaned down to press a kiss to my shoulder.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he said quietly.
I flushed with pleasure.
He straightened and stepped back. "We'd better get going," he said. "If we stay in here much longer, I'll undo that bow, strip off that dress, and we'll never leave."
I took a long look at him in that tux and agreed. If I hadn't promised my family that I'd be there, I'd forget the benefit and jump Lucas. But I had promised, and he was right. If we didn't get a move on, we'd never make it.
Lucas was quiet in the truck on the way to the benefit. He'd been out all day, I thought with Detective Bren
nan or Cooper, but he hadn't said.
"Did you find out anything else about Marissa Archer?" I asked.
"She's not talking," Lucas said. "She hasn't said a word since last night. But it's looking like she's responsible for everything. The police are ready to pin it on her."
"What about you?"
"I'm not completely sold. She fits, and she had opportunity. She's also bat-shit crazy."
"Does that make her more or less likely to be guilty?" I asked.
I was still thrown that Marissa Archer was involved at all. I knew she'd been friends with my parents back in the day, but to stalk us? Send us pictures of their bodies?
She seemed so certain she knew the story behind their deaths, had taunted me with it, and now she wasn't talking. None of it made any sense.
"Neither," Lucas said in answer to my question. "It just makes it harder to pin down her motive. If she's completely cracked, it could be impossible to determine why she fixated on your family."
"And if she's not completely cracked? If she really does know something?"
"Princess," Lucas said, reaching out to take my hand in his, "I don't want you to get your hopes up. It's possible she does know something. But we can't make her talk, and even if we could, her accusations won't hold any weight. Not with her locked up under psychiatric care."
"I know it wouldn't bring them back," I said in a low voice. "But I still want to know what happened. Someone took them from us—"
I stopped talking. I wasn't going to cry and ruin my makeup. I took a quick breath in through my nose and let it out.
I was fine. Everything was fine. Once I had my roiling emotions under control, I said, "So you guys think she was the stalker the whole time, right? I'm in the clear?"
"That's the working theory," Lucas admitted. "Hayward has had eyes on him nonstop since before you left Winters Inc. If he were pulling the strings here, he did a better job of hiding it than he did hiding all the shit he was up to with his company. Which would be out of character. Still, you should be careful for now. Keep the alarm on when you're home. Carry your panic button. Just in case."
"I can do that," I said. "But you think I'm probably safe now?"
"We'll see," he said, shooting me a sidelong glance.
