Dying To Marry

by Janelle Taylor

  Jake’s heart sank. “Have you seen him since?”

  Dylan shook his head. “I didn’t even remember him until right now. I owe him an apology. Until a couple of weeks ago, I spent a lot of time with him. And now, it’s dwindled down to nothing.”

  As Dylan pulled his car into a parking space near their offices, Jake could barely breathe.

  Please don’t let Jimmy Morgan be our guy, he thought.

  “Holly, right?”

  Holly turned around to find Jimmy Morgan, the teenager she’d met at the engagement party, sitting on a bench, throwing pebbles at a stray cat who was trying to eat from a can of tuna that someone had left for it. Every time the cat neared the can, Jimmy tossed a pebble. Not hard enough to harm the cat, Holly noticed, but enough to frustrate the poor animal.

  Lizzie’s mom had come over with hugs and congratulations about the pregnancy, and Holly had slipped out for some fresh air. She needed to think about this morning with Jake—and last night.

  “That’s right. Holly Morrow. And you’re Jimmy.”

  “Surprise, surprise,” he said, jamming his hands into his pocket. “Usually I’m beneath noticing.”

  “Of course I remember you,” she said. “You’re Jake’s friend.”

  “I used to be,” he responded, throwing another pebble at the cat.

  “Used to be?” Holly repeated. “Stop bothering that poor animal.”

  “Forget it,” he said. “Just like Jake’s forgotten me.”

  “Jimmy—”

  The boy jumped up. “Whatever. First Lizzie and now you. Before you came to town, Jake had time for me. And he was all I had left since Dylan went into la la land with his marriage plans.”

  “Dylan and Jake both care very much about you,” Holly said, knowing she needed to be very careful with what she said. The boy looked as though he might explode at any moment.

  “Funny way they have of showing it,” he muttered. “And now that Dylan and Lizzie are gonna have a kid, I can really forget about him helping me with my game or working with me on my algebra.”

  You know about the baby? she thought. She doubted Jimmy read the gossip pages. Then she remembered Lizzie’s words: There were some boys in the hall at the center when I told Dylan I was pregnant ...

  Oh, no, Holly thought. For everyone’s sake, please don’t let Jimmy be the one.

  With a shrug of resignation, Jimmy ambled off.

  Slowly, Holly neared the cat. When the cute stray was convinced she wasn’t going to throw a rock, it rubbed against her jeaned leg. She scratched behind its ears. “You eat up your lunch, little guy,” Holly said, stroking the cat’s silky fur. For a stray, the cat was clearly well tended to. “Someone will take you home, I’m sure,” she said.

  Jimmy clearly felt like a stray, she thought. But enough to take his anger and resentment out by hurting the person Dylan loved?

  Holly gave the cat a final pat on the head and headed through the park, her mind heavy with questions to which she had no answers. A group of boys were playing basketball, some children were horsing around in the playground, but Holly barely heard the cacophony of sounds. She began jogging toward the pay phone by the public restrooms. Great—it was unoccupied. In an age when just about everyone had a cell phone except for her, pay phones usually were free.

  Unfortunately, the pay phone ate her quarter and was out of service. There was another pay phone, if it was still there, by the tennis courts about a quarter of a mile away. Holly turned and started to head in that direction when she was suddenly grabbed from behind.

  “Hey!” she screamed.

  But something was placed over her head, something scratchy and heavy, like burlap. She resisted and kicked wildly, but whoever had her had too strong a grip on her.

  Panicked, Holly tried to scream, but the burlap was tight against her mouth. She could barely breathe. She felt something going around and around her neck.

  No! she screamed silently, flailing wildly to get free.

  Suddenly she was shoved hard, and she fell against the ground. She heard footsteps.

  “Help me!” she tried to scream against the burlap. “Help!”

  She realized she was free. No one was restraining her. She pulled wildly at what felt like a rope around her neck. Finally, it loosened and she pulled it away, then ripped off the burlap sack.

  She breathed deeply until she had enough air in her lungs again. And then she opened her eyes and looked all around her. There was no one. She’d been pushed behind the restrooms; behind her was a bank of trees. If her attacker had wanted to kill her, she most likely would be dead right now.

  Catching her breath, Holly angrily tossed the burlap away from her.

  And that’s when she noticed the note taped to the front of it.

  On an ordinary piece of lined paper was typed: Go back home, Holly the Whore. Or next time, I will kill you.

  Will had been underlined twice with red marker.

  Panic rose again and gripped her. Her legs too shaky to support her, Holly fought for control. Just get up and get the hell out of here, she ordered herself. Get up!

  Finally, she found the strength to stand. And then she ran.

  “Jake, Miss Morrow is here to see you. She says it’s an emergency.”

  Jake hurried to the door to his office and threw it open. Holly stood, pale and trembling, by his secretary’s desk. Her arms were wrapped around herself. She looked scared to death.

  “Holly?” he said, rushing over to her. With his arm firmly around her, he led her into his office. Once the door was closed, she collapsed against him. “Holly, what happened?” She shook her head, but couldn’t seem to speak. He held her, stroking her hair. “Let it out, Holly. It’s okay. You’re okay now. You’re safe.”

  She began to calm down. She straightened up and he led her to the sofa by the window. “I—” She stopped. “I was attacked.” She reached into her tote bag and pulled out a burlap sack, some heavy string, and a white piece of paper.

  Jake took it all and read the note. “Oh, God. Tell me what happened, Holly.”

  She took a deep breath and relayed the terrible story, starting with running into Jimmy Morgan and ending with being shoved against the ground.

  “I didn’t want to think it was Jimmy,” she said. “But the timing, Jake. It looks very bad for him. He was so angry. And the way he was throwing the pebbles at that poor, hungry cat.”

  “It doesn’t look good at all,” he said. “But if Jimmy is the culprit, he’s not just some lonely teenager mad at the world. He’s a deeply disturbed teenager who is going to face some very serious consequences for his actions.”

  “I can still feel the rope against my neck,” she said, rubbing at her tender skin.

  He could see angry red marks on her creamy neck. Fury rose in him and he tried to push it away. Holly needed his support right now. One thing at a time, he told himself. Help Holly right now. Then find the creep who did this to her.

  “Let me take you to Lizzie’s,” Jake said. “You need rest and some tea. I’ll report what happened to the police and have an officer come by to take your statement.”

  “No, I don’t want to go to Lizzie’s,” she said quickly. “After everything that’s happened, I’m afraid this might be too much for her. That kind of stress isn’t good for the baby.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, but we will have to tell her at some point. It’s not safe for her not to know exactly what she’s dealing with. What we’re all dealing with. Our psycho seems to be on an accelerated schedule—he or she isn’t happy the wedding wasn’t called off after last night’s party and wall decoration and now this. We’re going to step up security, that’s for sure.”

  She nodded. “I just need some time to regroup myself before I face Lizzie,” Holly said. “I don’t want her to see me scared out of my mind.”

  “I understand,” Jake said. “Why don’t we head over to my place. You can rest in peace there.”

  The sudden visi
on of Holly in his bed came out of nowhere. No, not nowhere. The image had been there ever since he had woken to find her sleeping tangled in his white sheets. He’d tried in vain not to remember, but the picture was still there. Probably always would be.

  “I’m not so sure I want to go to your apartment, either,” Holly said. “There are some unresolved issues for me there.”

  “Then perhaps we need to resolve them,” Jake said, surprising himself. Did he really want to talk about how he felt? When he didn’t know how he felt?

  You know how you feel, he chided himself. You just don’t want to acknowledge it.

  The moment Jake opened the door to his apartment, the memories assailed Holly. His kiss. His touch.

  His lovemaking.

  Fool making, was more like it, she told herself. Don’t confuse what happened last night with love. It was a night of false intimacy, that’s all. Of passion. Of lust. Nothing more.

  Yet the moment he stepped away from her and headed to a closet in the hallway, she felt bereft.

  She wanted him to carry her over to the sofa and hold her, just hold her.

  Fool! she chided herself. You can’t seek comfort from Jake Boone.

  He was as distant as he was that morning when he’d left her in bed and gone about his day as though they hadn’t made love.

  He must feel uncomfortable about her being here, she thought. Or perhaps he was simply dreading the conversation.

  She wasn’t so sure she wanted to have it herself. Honesty was good, and all that. But sometimes ignorance was a sort of bliss. When she didn’t know for sure how he felt, she could still dream that there was some kind of hope for them.

  Hope. She wanted to have hope. For Lizzie. For herself. But things were so damned frightening in their lives right then, so out of control, that she was beginning to lose hope.

  How were they supposed to fight against something hidden?

  By seeking it out, Holly answered for herself. If something is threatening you, and you can’t run, you have to stay and fight.

  So stay and fight for Jake, she told herself. Don’t be afraid of what you don’t know for sure. Find out.

  Jake returned with a pillow and a throw blanket. “Come sit,” he said. He fluffed the pillow. “Lie down.”

  Her heart heavy, she did as she was told. She sank against the soft cushions and instantly felt better. Yes, she needed to lie down. Needed to close her eyes. Needed to think. She needed to think about what happened at the park. Clues. Smells. Noises. There had to be something to give away her attacker. Something.

  Yes, Holly. Think of that and put all thoughts of Jake Boone and his nearness out of your mind.

  He sat down on the easy chair adjacent to the sofa. “Holly, why don’t you try to sleep. We can talk about what happened when you wake up.”

  “What happened in the park or what happened here last night?” she blurted out.

  Idiot! she chastised herself.

  “Well, I guess I was talking about what happened at the park,” he said. “But I do want to talk about what happened here. About why I...” He faltered. “Why I acted the way I did.”

  “Do you even know why?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No.” He shook his head again. “Actually, that’s not true. I do know why.”

  She took a deep breath. “Because you regret it.”

  He didn’t contradict her. He didn’t say anything for a few moments.

  Tears stung the backs of her eyes.

  “I don’t regret it, Holly. How could you think that?”

  Relief shot through her. And suddenly, she felt so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. “I need to ...”

  Before she could even finish the sentence, her eyes closed and she felt the pull of sleep.

  She thought she felt a hand gently caress her cheek before a blanket was settled over her, but she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or not.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When Holly had woken after a couple of hours of much needed rest, she’d immediately begun talking about the attack and anything she could remember, which wasn’t much. She hadn’t heard her attacker sneak up on her. She hadn’t smelled women’s perfume or men’s cologne. The attacker hadn’t spoken. There’d been nothing to indicate whether the attacker had been a man or a woman.

  Once the police had left, Jake and Holly had gone to Lizzie’s together to tell her and Dylan what had transpired in the park. And then with Holly and Lizzie safe under Dylan’s watch and a security guard parked outside Lizzie’s home, Jake had gone to see Jimmy Morgan. He’d gone to his house Down Hill, hoping to catch Jimmy at home, but neither the boy nor his mother was there. He then tried the center, and found Jimmy tossing pebbles at the chain-link fence a few feet away.

  “What is this, some kind of interrogation?” the boy muttered.

  “Jimmy, all I asked you is where you went after you saw Holly at the park earlier today.”

  “And all I asked you was whether this is some kind of interrogation.”

  “Jimmy, Holly was attacked in the park.”

  The boy’s eyes grew wide. “She was?”

  “Yes, she was.”

  “Was she hurt bad?” he asked.

  “No, but she was shaken up,” he said.

  Jake waited, his breath held, for Jimmy to ask the wrong question or give a piece of information that only the attacker would know.

  But Jimmy gave nothing away. He seemed truly surprised by the news of Holly’s ordeal, but as well as Jake thought he knew the boy, he couldn’t allow his feelings for Jimmy to color the investigation.

  “Jimmy, I want you to know something,” Jake said. “You’re not losing Dylan and you’re not losing me. Right now, Dylan has a lot going on with planning his wedding and planning for the baby, and I’ve got a lot going on with the case of who is trying to destroy their happiness. But all this doesn’t mean that Dylan and I don’t love you, man. Do you understand that?”

  The teenager jumped up angrily. “Yeah, you love me like an older brother. Please. If you or Dylan cared about me, you’d show up when you’re supposed to instead of missing stuff the way my father did. First he started showing up late and then he just didn’t show up at all.”

  “Jimmy—”

  “Forget it,” the boy yelled. “I don’t care anymore! I don’t need either of you!” Tears streamed down the boy’s face. Jake tried to pull him into a hug, but Jimmy, strong and muscular, fought him. “You’re nothing but a fake! Acting all nice now when you think I’m the one who hurt your precious girlfriend! You’re nothing but a fake and I hate you!”

  Jimmy tore away so fast and was over the chain-link fence before Jake could even think about chasing after him.

  The boy was angry as hell, that was for sure.

  And it sure was looking bad for Jimmy Morgan. Very bad.

  “See, now that we’re not leaving the house, everything is fine,” Lizzie said, trying very hard to be cheerful. She placed her mug of coffee on the kitchen table and peered out the curtains on the back door. “I’m never going outside again.”

  “You guys have been cooped up in here for two days,” Gayle said. She bit into one of the chocolate chip muffins she’d brought over. “You’re going to need some fresh air soon. And Lizzie, you’re going to run out of chocolate soon. You know you can’t go a day without chocolate.”

  “I’d rather stay alive than breathe fresh air,” Lizzie said. “Or eat chocolate.”

  “Lizzie, don’t say that,” Flea said, tears coming to her eyes. “I’m scared. Really scared. Security or not. I’m so afraid for all of us.”

  Holly placed her hand over Flea’s. “We all just need to be strong. We have to remember that we’re going to beat this creep at his or her game.”

  Gayle nodded. “And maybe Psycho is done. It’s been two days since—” She glanced at Holly. “I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

  “It’s okay, Gayle,” Holly said. “There’s no use pretending it didn’t hap
pen, and not talking about things only gives them more power.”

  Lizzie sat back down at the table. “I wish I could be strong like you three. I wish I had an ounce of your self-possession.”

  “Lizzie, honey, you’re stronger than you know.”

  “A strong waterworks, maybe,” Lizzie said, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

  Holly smiled and playfully tugged one of Lizzie’s springy long curls.

  “In a way,” Lizzie reflected, “the fact that nothing has happened for two days is creepy in itself. It’s like the calm before the storm.”

  “Don’t be negative,” Flea said. “I believe in answered prayers.”

  “I hear you,” Gayle said, nodding gravely, “I’ve been praying like mad.”

  “I don’t mean to discount your faith,” Lizzie said, wrapping her hands around her coffee mug, “but I can’t rely on prayer. Something awful is going to happen. I’ve been having nightmares, and I keep seeing Flea hurt on the floor and Holly—” Tears filled her eyes. “Here I go again,” she said. “I’m sorry, guys. I’m trying to be strong, but ...”

  Lizzie had been devastated by news of the attack. She’d blamed herself and locked herself in the bathroom again. It had taken an hour for Holly to calm her down. And then Lizzie had gotten the idea in her head that Gayle was next.

  “Oh, my God,” she’d screamed, then slapped a hand over her mouth. “Does this mean that something is going to happen to Gayle? First Flea was locked in her back room and then hit by the stone, then Holly was attacked in the park. Is Gayle next?” She’d been shaking and crying, and Dylan had held her close and tried to assure her that security had been beefed up, but nothing would calm Lizzie down.

  Thank goodness for Gayle, strong, solid Gayle. She’d flexed her muscles at Lizzie and made her feel them, and even Lizzie had been impressed enough to stop crying and concede that Gayle was very strong and could probably handle herself against any opponent.