He bowed his head and captured her lips before she could protest. She returned the kiss, and her assessment was dead on—sparks zinged between them, the air warmed against his skin, and every star aligned. He could’ve gone on kissing her all night. With superhuman self-control, he forced himself to release her mouth. Now was not the time to push his luck. He tucked her small form into his arms and enjoyed each second.
“The connection between us is more real than anything I’ve ever felt!” he whispered fervently, still holding her in his arms.
Emmy stared up at him with liquid eyes. “But that’s just what I’m saying. We’re drawn to each other, but it’s all physical. You don’t really know me. The kind of relationship I want is comfortable, not some fireworks show.” She stepped back and he dropped his arms.
Josh shook his head. Was she saying this because she knew Timothy so well and thought she should date him? He had to be the one who had asked her out. How could Josh convince her that although the physical attraction was huge, they were so much more than the physical? “I want what you want, sweetheart. What we’re feeling is where it starts. It’s not wrong to feel like this; it’s brought us together, and now we have the chance to get to know each other, to get comfortable.” He smiled at her. “But I imagine when we’ve been together fifty years you’ll still make me sizzle.”
“Fifty?” Emmy bit her lip and turned away. “I’m sorry, Josh. Honestly, I’m scared of the sizzle.”
She brushed by him and walked through the increasing rain to her Range Rover, not avoiding the puddles. Josh watched her go, wanting to cuss, needing to chase after her. He didn’t want to give up. He cared about her too much. But was he what she wanted or needed?
q
Emmy risked a glance back as she drove away, shivering from the cold and emotion. The rain darkened the evening sky, but she could still see Josh in the middle of the parking lot, watching her drive away. It hurt to leave him there, and her breath came in ragged gulps. She struggled to hold back the tears. She was so far out of her comfort zone—terrified to commit to a new relationship, but she liked him. She more than liked him. What was she doing calling him a stalker, claiming they could never work, and then driving away? She pressed on the gas harder when everything inside wanted to turn the car around, find Josh, and kiss him until the sparks started to dim. She smiled, wondering if they ever would. Would it be so bad to let the fires rage? What then? Then maybe she’d be alone again, and she didn’t know if she could survive losing something that powerful.
She turned her windshield wipers faster and searched the empty street. It would be so easy to make a U-turn. She covered three blocks, alternating between pushing harder on the gas and moving her foot to the brake.
Her thoughts were interrupted by soft breathing from the backseat. Her own breath caught in her throat as she tried to decipher the noise. Was she just being paranoid, or was someone really in her vehicle?
She worked up the nerve to turn and look. A huge shadow loomed behind her. An arm came around her neck. All her breath sucked inside before it released in a loud scream.
Her foot slammed the brake pedal down. She clawed at the arm around her neck with one hand as the tires squealed against the wet asphalt.
“Keep driving.” The voice was muffled and unrecognizable under the Halloween mask. The man wore long sleeves and gloves that scratched at the skin of Emmy’s neck. She panted for air, jammed the car into park, and reached for her door handle. A long knife appeared between her and the door. The man yanked her against the seat with his forearm and waved the knife in her face. “I said keep driving.”
Emmy’s movements were sluggish, like a dream. She wanted to fight him, but could hardly make her limbs cooperate. She reached for the gearshift and slowly dropped it into drive.
“Drive toward Ecola.”
She didn’t know what else to do but comply. Her clammy hands gripped the steering wheel to control the trembling. Did she dare push the emergency button to make a call, or would he slice her open? Her eyes flitted to the knife. It was the epitome of every nightmare she’d dealt with over the last year coming to fruition. This man had killed her husband. With that knife. And now he was here to kill her or worse.
She’d rather die than be subject to some psychopath who would resort to murder so they could “be together” like it said in the last note. The fear had her breath coming in short gasps, and her hands were barely able to grip the steering wheel as thoughts of what he would do to her clawed through her mind.
A large boulder appeared off the right side of the road, framed against the dark forest by her headlights. Emmy didn’t stop to think as she pressed the accelerator into the floor and swerved toward the rock. The man emitted a high-pitched scream. The Range Rover slammed into the rock. Emmy’s seatbelt held her tight as the airbag exploded in her face and the man was thrown into the windshield, his legs pinned by the passenger airbag.
Pain raced through her face and abdomen. Emmy tried to catch a full breath, knowing she had little time. She undid her seatbelt and yanked at the door latch. The door didn’t open. No! She screamed and jammed her shoulder into the door. The man didn’t say anything, but his heavy exhales seemed to reach out to her. Again and again she slammed against the door. Finally it popped open and she fell onto the spongy ground next to her vehicle.
Her tormenter peered at her over the airbag. All she could see of his face was his dark eyes, determination seeping through the pain written there. His knife sliced through the airbag several times as he untangled himself from the wreckage. Emmy didn’t wait to see what he would do next, but scrambled to her feet and started running back up the highway toward Cannon Beach.
The headlights of a large vehicle, maybe a truck, came toward her. Rescue looked so far away on the long, open road. She ran down the faded yellow lines, waving her arms and screaming for help, though the vehicle’s occupants couldn’t possibly hear her. Between screams she heard the quick pounding of footsteps getting closer. The bright red truck skidded to a stop in front of her. Josh.
The driver’s side door popped open and Emmy rushed around to him, still screaming, “Help! Help!”
Josh grabbed her in his arms and swung her off her feet. “Emmy! Are you okay?”
“No!” She glanced back and saw the dark-cloaked man coming at them. “Josh!”
He set her on her feet and spun to face the man.
“I waited a year for her,” the man said in a gruff voice. “You can’t have her.” He stabbed at Josh.
Josh ducked under the blade and slammed his fist into the man’s covered face. The man reeled back but came up fast, slicing Josh’s shirt and abdomen open. Blood covered the knife.
Emmy shrieked. She launched herself at the guy’s side and hit at the arm holding the knife with all her strength. The man turned to her.
Josh punched the guy in the chest and yelled, “Emmy, get back!”
Emmy dodged out of the way, wondering how Josh was still standing with blood dripping down his slashed stomach. The man gasped for air but took one more swipe, barely missing Josh’s left arm. Two vehicles approached from the north.
The man darted toward Emmy. She whirled away, slipping on the wet concrete and ducking his arms. People popped out of the cars. Josh moved in front of Emmy. The man took off at a run, dodging trees as he headed into the forest. Josh took two steps after him, then slowly sank to his knees.
“Josh!” Emmy ran to him, ripping off her jacket and pressing it against the blood pulsing out of his body. “Oh, Josh!” Every memory of seeing Grayson sliced open resurfaced. No! This couldn’t happen again. Not to Josh. Please, Lord, help him. Help me.
Josh’s eyes held a look of panic for a second; then they closed and he sagged in her arms. Emmy tried to support him, but he was too heavy and they thudded onto the asphalt. Her back and arm took most of the impact. She bit down the pain, grateful Josh hadn’t received any more injury.
Footsteps thudded around them. Someo
ne tried to pull him from her arms. “No!” Emmy yelled at them. “No!” She was desperate to keep him safe. “I’m putting pressure on the wound. Just get help.”
One woman was already on her phone. “The police are on their way.”
Another man sat behind Emmy and helped brace her and Josh as she continued to compress the gash with every ounce of strength left. Silent tears mingled with the rain sliding down her face. Josh didn’t respond. Was he already gone? Was he going to leave her like Grayson had? She couldn’t survive losing him.
18
JOSH WAKENED TO A VERY SOFT HAND gripping his and a vision sitting at his bedside. She studied the monitors next to his bed like someone staring into a campfire, almost catatonic. Through the soft light of the room, he could see her dark hair hanging limp around her face, which featured black smears and puffy eyes. She was even more beautiful to him.
“Hey,” he croaked.
“Josh! You’re awake.” She leaned forward and hugged him carefully as if he would break, pulling away much too quickly. “How do you feel?”
“Foggy.” His head was full of whipped cream. The only thing that seemed lucid to him was Emmy.
“Do you hurt?”
He shook his head, glancing at his IV. “Morphine?”
“I think so.”
“How bad is it?” He gestured with his chin to his abdomen.
She gave him a brave smile. “Not as bad as I thought. Lots of stitches. I think they said forty-five, but it wasn’t deep, just long.” She spread her hands almost a foot apart. “You lost a lot of blood, but they said you’d heal pretty quick.”
Relief washed over him. He’d woken in the ambulance to excruciating pain and nobody willing to tell him anything. Then they put him under as soon as he reached the hospital. “Did they find him?”
Emmy frowned. “No.”
He pushed the button to raise his bed up, and pain sliced through him. He gasped; obviously he wasn’t ready for movement even with the morphine.
“It hurts? Oh, Josh. I’m so sorry.”
He forced himself to smile to reassure Emmy and took a couple of long breaths as well as a sip of the water she offered him before managing to say, “You shouldn’t be sorry.”
“You got hurt protecting me.”
Josh gave her a genuine smile. “It was worth it.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?” But she was smiling.
“Crazy for you.”
Emmy blushed becomingly. “I like it when you flirt with me.”
He wished with everything in him that he wasn’t wounded in a hospital bed and could show her how crazy he was for her. “I just like you.”
She grinned. “I’m beginning to see that.”
They smiled at each other for several seconds. Josh hated that his brain was murky and he couldn’t think of anything cute to say to her. He shifted position again and winced.
“Oh, Josh.” Emmy gripped his hand. “I’m so sorry he hurt you.”
“There you go again, being sorry for something that isn’t your fault.”
She laughed, but sobered quickly. “Do you remember what happened?”
“Yeah.” He especially remembered when the guy had almost grabbed Emmy before running off. What if he’d taken her? Josh had to be able to protect her, and he was stuck in a hospital bed. “They couldn’t find him?”
Emmy looked at him with such concern, but thankfully didn’t withhold information. “He was smart. They followed his tracks through the woods. The prints disappeared at a stream and they think he headed west to the ocean. Nobody knows how long he stayed in the water. They couldn’t find his prints leaving. They think he exited barefoot on a busy part of the beach so all the footprints and smells could intermingle.”
Josh wanted to swear. He nodded instead. “Did he seem familiar to you at all?”
“I keep trying to remember, but I was so scared. All I could think about was him not hurting you.” She exhaled. “I noticed he has dark eyes and he’s as tall as you.”
“You did great, sweetheart.”
“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand, then released it. “Do you want more water?”
“Yes, please.” He took a long drink and leaned back against the pillows. “What time is it?”
“About four a.m.”
“You sat here all night?”
“Yes.” She looked at him indignantly. “You’d do the same for me.”
Josh loved that she knew that and that she had done it for him.
“Why’d you follow me?” she asked.
Josh shifted on the bed, this time doing a better job at hiding the pain. “I wish I could say I was some sort of altruistic hero, but I was mad at you for running away. I decided I’d follow you. When you didn’t go home, I stayed back a little ways so you wouldn’t get spooked.” He shrugged. “I’m glad I was there.”
Emmy shuddered. “Me too. And don’t you ever say you’re not a hero. You’re my hero.”
Josh had to fight a smile at her passionate declaration. “I wish I had a toothbrush so I could ask for a kiss.”
Emmy grinned and kissed his cheek softly. “As strong as our attraction is, I’d probably rip your stitches open.”
His eyebrows arched. “Oh? I’d like to try that.”
“No, you wouldn’t!”
He didn’t refute her, but he definitely would. He swallowed down the nasty taste in his mouth before growing brave enough to ask, “Did you decide you’re willing to give us a try?”
“I thought he’d killed you.” She coughed and blinked a few times before continuing, “I realized I could lose you at any time, and it’s absolute stupidity to stay away when you’re exactly who I want to be with.”
Josh studied her for a few seconds. Her beautiful face lit up with what he hoped was love for him. He knew it was what he felt inside. He pushed the call button on his bed.
“Yes?” a voice answered.
“Can you please bring me a toothbrush? There’s a beautiful lady visiting me, and I really need to kiss her.”
q
Practice had gone late and Emmy was exhausted from too many sleepless nights. Her alarm system should’ve reassured her, but every noise awoke new fears. She also worried about the murderer going after Josh, who didn’t have a fancy security system or the police patrolling his neighborhood. No one else seemed to think he was in the danger she was.
She wished they’d catch the murderer so she could have a normal life: teaching, acting, swimming, and spending every spare minute with Josh. She dragged her toes, studying the pavement as she made her way to the rented Camry—with pepper spray in one hand and her cell phone in the other. She wanted her Range Rover back. She wanted her peace of mind back more.
“Emmy?” a voice said right behind her.
She jumped and whirled, placing a hand on her heart. “Oh, Shane, you scared me!”
He offered a shy smile. “I’m sorry. I would never want to scare you.”
Emmy wished so many things didn’t scare her. She hoped he wasn’t going to ask her out again and preempted him with, “I love the staircase of the Beast’s castle. Thank you for working so hard.”
“I’m happy to do it for you.”
Emmy forced a smile, but didn’t like his wording. He wasn’t doing it for her. “Thank you.” She turned. “I’d better get home. Exhausting practice today.”
“Could I take you to dinner tomorrow?” His words flew out before she could escape.
Emmy bit her cheek. What should she say? “I’m sorry, Shane. It’s not a good time for me to date someone.”
He studied her intently, all traces of a smile gone. “When will be a good time?”
Emmy shook her head. She needed to be honest. “I don’t know. I’m involved with someone else right now.” She had to hide a smile, thinking of her personal hero. “Thank you for asking.”
He nodded but didn’t respond. The silence grew awkward.
A police car pulled up next to them. “A
re you doing okay, Mrs. Henderson?”
Emmy turned to them with a reassuring smile. “Yes. Thank you for checking. This is Shane; he’s the prop manager here at the theater.”
“He knows me,” Shane muttered.
Emmy didn’t know how to respond to that. The police had questioned and searched everyone who worked at the theater after Grayson’s death. What a relief it wasn’t one of her fellow actors who killed her husband.
The officer nodded to Shane, then looked at Emmy. “We’re always watching out for you, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” It was a nice reassurance, but they couldn’t be around all the time. At some point the knife-wielding lunatic was going to reappear. She shivered at the thought.
The police car idled next to them. She glanced up to see Shane studying her. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Emmy said, and then walked away, more uncomfortable than she’d felt in a long time. She opened the back door of the Camry and checked behind the seats, then opened the driver’s side and settled in. A quick wave to the police and she was happy to drive away from the uncomfortable situation with Shane. She was also grateful when she saw the police had followed her.
19
MOVEMENT ON THE BACK PATIO drew Emmy’s eyes from her book and pushed her heart rate into overdrive. Was it the murderer? Would he try to break into her house, or would he run away again? She dialed 911 as she cautiously crept to the sliding glass doors. Edging back the curtain, she flipped on the light.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“Kelton!” Emmy screamed. She disabled the alarm and yanked open the door.
“Kelton?” the woman on the phone asked.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. It was a mistake. I’m fine.”
Kelton stood grinning at her as she went through twenty questions with the operator, assuring her that she’d just been spooked by her teenage neighbor. Emmy hung up the phone and crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing?”
Shadows in the Curtain (Destination Billionaire Romance) Page 9
