Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  “Why is that, Ryan?” she asked, as she turned back to face him then, and he saw nothing of that cold hatefulness in her glance when she looked at him. Just anger and pain, and a seemingly endless longing. Maybe she did love him, he thought, wondering how he could have missed seeing it before. And wondering what he could have done differently that might have prevented things from going this far south.

  “Is it because I’m a woman, Ryan? Is that it?” she asked “Is that why you think I won’t kill him? Because females are too sensitive, too nurturing, too soft?”

  “No, that’s got nothing to do with it. I just think if you could have done it, it would already be done,” Ryan said quietly. “I’ve seen you in action, Siobhan. You’re nothing if not efficient. But for all your talk, I can’t help noticing he’s still alive.”

  He paused, and then, in a voice that he hoped was persuasive he said, “You know you’re not gonna do it, sweetheart. You don’t have it in you. So give it up.”

  Her frown dissolved, and she stared at him in shocked surprise. “Is that what you think is going on? Really? You think I’m stalling?”

  He sighed, frustrated in his efforts to get through the unreasoning anger that seemed to have wrapped itself around her mind like a coil of razor wire. “Yes, Siobhan. That’s exactly what I think. And I’m getting pretty tired of the drama. So, why don’t you just unlock the cuffs and let me go, all right? Let me do my job. I can take care of this for you.”

  She paced angrily over to where he sat, and crouched down until she was eye to eye with him. The glittering coldness in her eyes was not reassuring. “Oh, no, Ryan. I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’m not just dithering around second guessing myself, you know, or trying to work up the balls to kill him. Whatever you think is holding me back, you couldn’t be more wrong. I’m dying to kill that son of a bitch. I just have to wait for him to wake up first, that’s all.”

  Her mouth curved in a chilling parody of her usual smile. “Killing him while he’s asleep is too good for him, Ryan. He doesn’t deserve anything that easy. Or that quick. Or that painless, for that matter. I want him to see this coming from a mile away. Several miles. I want him to sweat it out ‘til he’s fucking dehydrated. I want him to struggle to stay alive – just like my daughters struggled. I want him to beg, to plead, to cry – just like they did. And then? Then I want to look him in the eyes and watch him die.”

  “No!” Scout sat bolt upright, startling them both. She looked like a ghost, Ryan thought, white and shaking. “Oh, God, Siobhan, no. You don’t want that, trust me you don’t! I did that, you know? Last Summer? I watched Glenn die. He killed my family. My father and my stepsister. And I hated him for that. And I’m not sorry he’s dead, either, but... I was the one who talked him into it. I knew he was insane and I got him to pull the trigger anyway. I mean, I had to do it. I did. I know that. He would’ve killed Lucy and me, if I hadn’t. But I watched him, Siobhan. I saw him die. I looked him right in the eye and... and now I see it all the time. Whenever I close my eyes. In my dreams. It never goes away. It just never goes away.”

  Siobhan looked dazed. She nodded slowly. “Just like with my daughters. For ten years, every time I’ve gone to sleep, their faces—”

  “Don’t do that to yourself, Siobhan,” Scout murmured again. “I know what I’m talking about. Please. You’ll only make it worse.”

  Ryan closed his eyes and breathed a silent prayer of relief. Thank you God. This was the first time he’d heard the story of what had happened last summer. Nick had hushed it up, and even the rumors hadn’t amounted to much.

  “But he killed them, Scout,” Siobhan’s voice sounded as if she was on the verge of tears, and Ryan could tell Scout’s words had found their mark. “He killed them. How can I let him get away with that? I, I can’t!”

  “I know,” Scout answered, sounding like she might cry, too. “But it doesn’t have to be that way.” Ryan remembered having heard that she’d once worked in Hollywood. He wondered how much of the emotion in her voice now was for real. Not that he cared at the moment, of course. All’s fair in love and war, and anything that would bring Siobhan back to her senses was—

  “If you’re gonna kill him, you should do it now,” Scout urged, and Ryan’s eyes flew open. What?

  “You would still have justice,” Scout continued, to Ryan’s growing horror. “He would still be dead. But... But you wouldn’t have to live with the other. You wouldn’t have to—”

  “No!” Ryan shouted. “Siobhan, don’t listen to her – she’s crazy!” Christ, he thought desperately, they both were. Now what the fuck should he do? “You don’t want to do this baby, please.”

  “But I do, Ryan,” Siobhan’s eyes, clouded with grief, pleaded with him for understanding. “He deserves it.”

  “I know, honey, I’m sure he does, but think about what you’d be doing to us – to me. I love you, Siobhan. Please don’t throw everything we have away because of him. Please, baby. He isn’t worth it!”

  “You what?” She recoiled away from him as if she’d been shot, the pain in her eyes replaced by blistering anger. “You son-of-a-bitch!”

  Ryan could only stare, stunned into speechlessness once more by her reaction. What the fuck had he said wrong now?

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  * * * *

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  * * * *

  Siobhan stormed around the room looking for something she could throw at him. Angry tears coursed down her cheeks and her heart felt as if it had been sawn in half.

  How could he do it? How could he turn around and use her own words against her – use the possibility of them against her – just to save that worthless piece of shit’s life?

  How could he say he loved her now, and expect her to believe him, when he hadn’t ever said it before? Not even when he’d made love to her. She’d thought he had more respect for her intelligence, and her feelings than to stoop to telling lies.

  Which showed how little she knew. About men, or love, or…anything!

  Coming to a stop in front of him again, she resisted the urge to stomp on his injured leg. Or maybe kick him in the balls. She stared at him coldly. “So, I guess once a cop, always a cop, huh, Ryan? Is that it?”

  He was frowning again, with that hopelessly clueless expression that, God help her, she still found adorable. And with that duplicitous, damned look in his eyes, as if what he felt for her was too deep to be put into words. The same look that had tripped her up, again and again – making her think he just hadn’t found a way yet to tell her what he was feeling. Well, he sure seemed to have overcome that little problem, now hadn’t he? “I guess you’ll say just about anything to keep me from killing him, huh?”

  The look of confusion on his face intensified. “Yeah, pretty much,” he said, slowly, cautiously. “So, what is it you want to hear now, Siobhan? Tell me, please. What do you need me to say? What’s it gonna take to change your mind?”

  The pain in her heart grew too heavy for her legs to support. She plopped herself down to sit cross-legged on the floor near his feet, and stared at him. “Gee, I don’t know Ryan. Why don’t you tell me again how much you love me?” That hadn’t hurt quite as much as a kick in the head, but it had been close. “Or maybe you could offer to marry me and give me children – you know, to replace the ones I’ve lost? How about that for starters?” And, dear God, she’d be damned if he didn’t look like he was considering it, too. His face went blank, and something like panic flared for an instant in his eyes.

  “You want children?” he asked, swallowing hard.

  Yeah, that’s what she wanted all right, Siobhan thought tiredly, that would make everything perfect again, wouldn’t it? Just like goldfish. If one died, you could always get another. “Oh, forget it.”

  “No,” he croaked, scrubbing his hand over his face. “No, I mean, sure, if that’s what you want. It’s just, well, you never said anything about it before, and I— But yeah, honey, we— We could do that.”
/>   She looked at him, amazed. Obviously, she’d been planning to kill the wrong man.

  Tears filled her eyes. She shouldn’t ask, she shouldn’t risk hearing anything that would cause her more pain, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Tell me, Ryan, have you ever cared about anyone? Even a little? Or is it all just an act with you?”

  “What?” His face went from blank to bewildered in the blink of an eye, and almost as quickly his free hand shot out and grabbed the front of her shirt. He hauled her roughly forward, before she could think to react. Wrapping his arm around her, he held her trapped against him. His eyes were like blue steel, boring into hers. “Christ, woman, now what’d I do?”

  She was too tired, and too hurt, to pull away from him. Or maybe she just didn’t want to. Tears spilled from her eyes and she could barely keep from sobbing as she answered, “You lied to me.”

  He sighed, and she felt the muscles in his arm tighten. He looked like a man trying to hold on to the very edges of his patience. “About what?”

  “About loving me. And… everything, I think. Ever since we met.”

  “Since we met?” He shook his head. “Honey, I haven’t known which way was up, since then. You’ve had me off-balance, out of control and about two steps behind for as long as I’ve known you. Can’t you please just cut me a break? I’m only trying to make things right for us. Tell me how to fix this, please.”

  “Is that why – is that the only reason you—” But she couldn’t ask. It wouldn’t change the way things were, and maybe it was better not to know what she was giving up. She owed it to her daughters to stand strong, to pay their father back for what he’d done to them. And if that meant her future was forfeit, then so be it. “Let go of me, Ryan.”

  Ryan stared in dismay at the bitter determination on her face. Shit. He’d thought for a minute there he was finally getting through to her. But now... he supposed he could just hold her, refuse to let go. She’d kick and scratch, maybe even punch his lights out, but even with one hand chained to the wall, he had no doubt that he could take her.

  But then what? He could argue ‘til he was blue in the face and still not change her mind. And he couldn’t even count on anyone’s coming to his aid. No one knew what was happening, in the first place, and then there was Scout to consider. A fat lot of help she’d been so far. She’d probably hit him over the head when he wasn’t looking. That was something to look forward to.

  Who’d the two of them think they were, anyway – Thelma and Louise? Or maybe those women from the Dixie Chicks’ song. Next thing he knew, he’d be wrapped up in a tarp, going for a ride in the trunk of their car.

  “Look, I said—” She started to pull away, and he let her, but he kept a firm grasp on her wrist, just in case.

  Desperately he cast around for something – anything – which he could use to change her mind.

  “Siobhan... look, think about this. What if your daughters aren’t dead?” He knew he was grasping at some mighty thin straws with that one, but at the moment straws were pretty much the only weapons he had. “What if they show up one day, after this is all over. You really want to have to look in their faces and explain to them how their daddy died?”

  “What do you mean?” For just a second, he could have sworn he saw a faint flicker of hope in her eyes. “How could they show up, Ryan? They’re dead. He killed them.”

  “Well, what if he didn’t? What if they’re still alive somewhere?”

  She shook her head. “They’re dead,” she repeated in a voice as lifeless as sand.

  “Yeah, well, you thought he was too, sweetheart,” he reminded her.

  “C’mon, Ryan, don’t do this to me. Don’t you think I’ve been through this a billion times already?”

  She looked close to tears again, and he hated what this must be doing to her, but he had to stop her. No matter what the cost, he couldn’t let her go through with it. Too much depended on it.

  “So, where are they, then, huh?” she asked, and this time he could hear the tremor in her voice, and he knew he’d gotten her wondering, thinking about it, hoping. “If they’re alive, they have to be someplace. They weren’t living with him, were they? You would have found them by now, if they were.”

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t really looking. But I don’t know, they’re eighteen, right? Maybe they’re away at college. Or, could be he left them with family, or maybe someone else has been taking care of them.”

  “Bullshit. Tim doesn’t have any family.”

  “Yeah? And how do you know that? Just ‘cause he told you? I think you’re pretty safe assuming everything he’s told you is a lie, because so far—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly. “Even if they’re alive... they were eight years old the last time I saw them, Ryan. They’d be grown women now. So, even if they’re alive, the girls I remember are still gone. He stole them from me and I can never get them back. Never.”

  “They’d be grown up now, anyway,” he pointed out gently.

  She sobbed suddenly. “But I would have been there for it! I wouldn’t have – I wouldn’t have missed seeing it!” Tears were tracking down her beautiful face again. He let go of her wrist without thinking, and used his thumb to rub them away. She rested her cheek on his hand for a moment, and he felt her tears, warm and wet, as they slid down his arm.

  “Siobhan, listen to me, honey. This bastard didn’t just take your children away from you, he stole ten years of your life. Don’t give him any more. Don’t let him take your future, as well. If you kill him, they’ll lock you away. And he’ll win. Don’t you think that’s exactly what he wants? He wants you to be unhappy. And trust me, spending the rest of your life in prison will do that for you! Is that really what you want? Is that any kind of justice for your daughters?”

  “I don’t know.” She turned her head away, glancing back over her shoulder to look at the table. “I don’t know what’s right, anymore.” Before Ryan realized what had happened, she’d gotten to her feet.

  Too late he tried to grab her, but she was already out of reach. He watched in cold horror as she walked back to the cart and picked up a syringe; lifting it up to the light and gently squeezing, getting all the air out, getting it ready. A thin stream of liquid sprayed up from the tip of the needle.

  “Jesus. Siobhan, please!”

  “Siobhan, maybe you should think about this a little more,” Scout said. Ryan spared her a brief glance. She was sitting up at the edge of the table, watching Siobhan with an expression of guilty alarm on her face. “I mean, what he says makes sense. And besides if there’s a chance your daughters are still—”

  “Maybe you should lie down again, Scout,” Siobhan said, interrupting her. “Maybe you should be worrying about your own child right now, and let me worry about mine.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t need to lie down anymore,” Scout answered. “I think it’s stopped for now. And anyway, I am thinking about my child. I’m thinking about what I’m gonna tell his father when he asks me why I didn’t do anything to stop you.”

  Well, that was a good one, Ryan thought; considering the whole ‘do it now’ speech she’d given earlier. And it was a real nice thought, too. Too bad it wasn’t working. “Siobhan, listen to me—”

  “Oh, just shut up, both of you.” Siobhan looked from one to the other of them, her shoulders sagging, her eyes dull with pain. “You win, okay, Ryan? I still think you’re wrong, and I’m sure I’m going to live to regret this. But I suppose, if there’s a chance... So, I’m just gonna wake him up and scare him a little. I can do that, can’t I? You’ll let me have that much satisfaction?”

  Ryan felt as though the whole world had just been lifted from his chest. “Yeah, honey, sure. Do your worst. Scare the crap out of him.”

  He watched as she injected the stimulant into her husband’s arm. The restraints had been pulled so tight, she had to loosen them just to twist his arm around enough for her to find a vein. Even from that distance, Ryan could see her h
ands were shaking.

  “Hey, c’mere a minute,” he called to her softly. She turned to look at him, her face so sad and defeated that he ached to do something to wipe that look away. Mostly though, he just wanted to touch her again, and reassure himself that she was all right.

  Siobhan walked over to where he was sitting, and he took her hand and pulled her down beside him.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, as he tucked a piece of hair that had been hanging loose in her face back behind her ear.

  She leaned against his upraised leg and regarded him sadly. “For what? I shot you, probably gave you a concussion, chained you up – and all for nothing. Seems to me I could have saved us both a lot of trouble if I’d just let him kill me.”

  He traced his hand over the cut on her neck again. “No, don’t say that Siobhan. When I got back here, and found all that glass on the floor, and the blood... I don’t think I’ve ever been more frightened in my life.”

  She shook her head, tears spilling from her eyes again. “I should have killed him right then. I should never have waited. I should have known you’d come back – that you’d stop me. It’s so wrong that he gets to live, Ryan. It’s just—”

  “Shh. I know,” he whispered as he pulled her close, stroking her back as she sobbed. “That’s why I’m thanking you. For trusting me. But I promise he’ll pay for what he’s done. I’ll make sure of it. I swear.”

  “Good,” she mumbled, sitting up again. He could see her trying to manage a tiny smile, but it trembled too much at the edges to gel. “You’d better.”

  “I will,” he promised. “Now... you think you can get me out of this thing? I think I’ve already lost the circulation in two of my fingers.”

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I forgot,” she said, looking shocked and flustered. But just as she was reaching into her back pocket, a thought seemed to strike her. She stopped and looked at him, and this time her smile was a little more firm. “On second thought, Ryan, I’m thinking I kind of like the idea of having you chained up like this. Maybe I should—”