by Lisa Childs
Nothing had ever been this hard. Sitting in a courtroom listening to what a maniac had done to her had not been a fraction as painful.
But Evan had put himself in the line of danger again and again to protect her, and now it was her turn to protect him.
After watching them drive away, she turned to the deputy posted at the door. “I’m expecting someone. The D.A. from River City. Mr. Peter Sullivan. Please let him in.”
“Mr. Quade didn’t authorize any visitors.”
“Mr. Sullivan is a friend. He’s no threat. If you won’t let him in, I’ll meet him outside.”
“You’re not supposed to leave the estate, Mrs. Quade.” The young man flushed as he made the pronouncement, no doubt expecting an argument.
She had one ready for him. “Am I under house arrest?”
He swallowed hard. “It’s for your protection.”
“Let Mr. Sullivan in, and we’ll discuss my wishes then.” She closed the door between them, leaning against it as her legs shook. Then she glanced at her cheap watch, hoping the time ran fast. If not, she didn’t have long to grab up a bag of necessities and get ready for the D.A. to pick her up and take her away.
Despite the austerity of Evan’s house, she believed she could have made it a home for all of them. But William Weering III’s release had stolen that future, just as his attack had stolen her past.
All she had was the present, which she would spend imprisoned in a safe house until Weering had been imprisoned and it was safe for her to live again. But she couldn’t believe that would be anytime soon.
Even if Evan and his friends found evidence to link Weering to current or past murders, they still had to find him. And a man with his money and connections could hide a long time. Maybe indefinitely.
The intercom near the door buzzed, startling her. With a trembling finger she pressed it down. “Yes?”
“Mrs. Quade, we’re letting Mr. Sullivan through the gate now.”
“Thank you.”
She rushed up the stainless-steel stairs, grabbing up a duffel bag and the garment bag carrying the wedding dress. She needed to get that sent back to the bridal shop in River City for an undoubtedly anxious bride.
As she’d been.
A memory tumbled through her mind. Her wedding day jitters had been extreme. She had worried that as a child of multidivorced parents, she had no hope of a lasting marriage. She had feared that by marrying Evan she would only hurt him—that eventually she’d leave him because that was all she knew.
And she had left him. Once, six years ago. And again today. She ran from her problems as her parents always had.
Yesterday, she had believed that by leaving, she was showing strength. But maybe she would exhibit more strength by staying, by standing by Evan through good times and bad.
As she started back down the steps, squinting against the sunlight pouring in through the two-story windows, she glimpsed a shadow awaiting her.
“Mr. Sullivan—Peter, I really appreciate your coming, but I think I’ve changed my mind.”
The man stepped closer to the stairwell, coming into sharp focus. The hand he rested on the steel railing held a knife, blood dripping from the blade and onto the slate floor. “It’s too late now, Amanda. Is that your gown in that bag? Go put it on—it’s time to become my bride.”
At two steps from the bottom, she was level with his eyes—the one pale and full of madness. The other blind. He closed that eye in a grotesque wink.
A scream ripped from Amanda’s throat.
Chapter Twelve
Still screaming, Amanda flung the bulky dress at him and hurled the duffel bag, striking him over the head before she turned on the stairs. She’d gained three steps when strong fingers locked around her ankle, pulling her feet from under her.
Her chin struck steel, but the stars dancing behind her eyelids did not distract her from the danger she was in. With her free leg, she kicked out, connecting once and eliciting a groan.
“You’re still a fighter?” He grunted as she kicked again. “I thought you’d lost your spirit with your mind.”
Memory. She’d lost her memory.
He was the one who had lost his mind, probably many, many years ago. And now her memories filtered back, memories of engulfing darkness, a trunk lid being raised, her attacking. And she would attack again. She rolled over, reaching out with clawed hands. But before she could strike, the blade of the knife, sticky with blood, pressed against her throat. She stilled as fear coursed through her.
“Stop fighting or this will be over right now, Amanda. And we haven’t even had any fun yet.”
She swallowed shortly as the knife pressed harder. “The deputy’s heard my screams. He’ll be in here in a minute with backup.”
Unless it was the deputy’s blood on the knife Weering wielded. She prayed not. She prayed no one else had been hurt.
He laughed, the maniacal chuckle that haunted her dreams, and wiped away a trail of spittle with the back of his free hand. “The deputy’s not coming. Nobody was at the door, Amanda,” he taunted. “Evan Quade doesn’t have as much control and influence as he thinks. You’re lucky I’m making you my bride now.”
“No.” When she shuddered, the knife blade bit into her throat.
“Come now, Amanda. You know you want to. You know you’ll beg.”
“Mr. Sullivan’s here. He drove—”
He laughed again and the madness swam in his pale sighted eye. “Mr. Sullivan can’t help you anymore, Amanda. He can’t help anyone ever again.”
Now she knew whose blood dripped from the knife and stained her skin. Had he mutilated the district attorney the way he had the others—the way he probably intended to mutilate her?
She had to think, had to buy some time…because she knew Evan—past and present—as memories tumbled through her mind. She knew he would come back. She only hoped it wouldn’t be too late.
“Why me?” she asked.
“Feeling sorry for yourself, Amanda? So the fight was just a show? You really are a pitiful victim now. My victim.”
She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to spit in his scarred face. “Why choose me? We’ve never met.”
He chortled. “Not that you’d remember. But no, we’ve never met.”
“So why? What had I ever done to you?” Tears burned behind her eyes, maybe with some of that self-pity he’d accused her of feeling.
The laughter dried up, his jaw tightening. “You were there.”
Anger burned away the hint of tears. “What? I was there? Like, ‘Why’d you climb the mountain? It was there’?”
He snorted. “No. That house. You were at that house. Nobody any good ever came out of that house.”
An image flashed through her mind. Removing her wedding ring from her swollen finger while she packed the car. Laying that ring, which Evan now wore on a chain around his neck, on the bathroom counter…of her mother’s estate house.
“My mother’s house?” Amanda asked, disbelieving.
“Used to be my parents’ house. One of their houses. I spent some of my childhood there, Amanda. But I wasn’t a child long. I grew up fast and furious.” The hand holding the knife shook with suppressed rage. “Are you a good mother, Amanda?”
Fear of getting sliced deeper stopped her from nodding. “Yes, I try to be.”
“So you’d never pass your kid around like a party favor? You’d never abuse him and let him get abused and laugh while it happened?” A tear slid from his blind eye, over his scarred cheek.
Amanda’s heart softened with pity for the child he’d been. “But then why hurt other people?”
“I would never hurt a child. Maybe Evan Quade knew that. Maybe that’s why he allowed others to guard your son, but guarded you personally. Maybe by now he even knows what happened to me. The rich and powerful—they think they’re above the law. My parents think they’ll never pay for what they did to me, for what they let happen to me.”
“And killing innocent
people is making them pay? You’re not hurting them. You’re hurting people who have done you no harm…” She forced bile down and softened her voice. “…William.”
Battling back revulsion, she lifted her hand and covered his over the knife. “It’s terrible what happened to you—”
“Don’t pity me! I’m not a victim! Not anymore!” he snapped.
“So you prey on others, make them your helpless victims? That’s only making what they did to you so much worse.”
He shook his head. “No! They’re not helpless. You weren’t helpless. Look what you did to me!” He gestured to his blind eye and the scars on his face. “You have to pay for that, Amanda, just like they have to pay and pay and pay. Killing them would have been too easy, too quick. They need to suffer the humiliation they made me suffer.” He turned his focus back to her. “Now put on your dress. When I saw you in it yesterday, I knew it was for me. Perfect. We have to get married so we can consummate our union.”
Where were the deputies and guards? Had he killed everyone? She fought back tears. He wanted her scared and helpless, as helpless as he had been when, as a child, he had been abused by adults. By people who were supposed to love and protect him.
“I’m so sorry, William, for what they did to you. But killing me isn’t going to make them suffer. It’s going to make my son suffer. Please…”
He threw back his head, his pale blond hair sliding across his forehead. “I said you’d beg. This is just the beginning, my bride.”
Amanda accepted then that it was too late to reason with him. He was beyond that. She may have lost her memory, but this man had lost his soul.
And how long before she lost hers?
EVAN’S HAND CURLED around the steering wheel as the car rounded a sharp curve on the road between Royce’s house and his.
Amanda.
He had to get back before she left with Sullivan.
All morning, while she’d rushed him and Christopher from the house, he had suspected that she had more planned than sleeping. But escape? Why?
Had he pressured her again? Had he asked for too much when he asked for her trust?
After what he’d kept from her, he had no right to expect her to trust him. But if, because of his DNA, she now feared him, why leave their son in his care?
Why leave their son at all? He knew how completely she loved Christopher. Was she leaving to protect him? To protect them both? Was she risking her life for theirs?
If so, she was a helluva lot stronger than he’d realized.
When the deputy had reported her request to let Sullivan through the gates, Evan’s suspicions were confirmed. She planned to leave with Sullivan. She wouldn’t risk Christopher’s safety with the D.A.’s assurances of protection, but she would risk her own.
Did the woman have no idea how important she was to her son? That he needed her? That Evan needed her?
If he was too late, he’d track down Sullivan and the low-rent safe house where he’d stashed her. But if Evan had the means and influence to find her, so would Weering.
The deputy had added more to his report. The guard on the beach had spotted another suspicious boat on the water. Would Weering ever stop taunting her?
Evan resisted the urge to shiver.
He knew the only way Weering would stop. When one of them was dead.
Since the gate at the street was secure, the deputy had gone down to the beach to add extra security there. If Weering thought he could get into the estate by water, he would find himself stopped at gunpoint.
Longing for the rules of the wild west, Evan would have liked giving the order to shoot on sight. Wanted dead or alive. But he suppressed the need for vigilante justice.
They were closer to trapping him. Royce was tracking down leads in the old cases where Sullivan had suspected Weering’s involvement. Most of the disappearances had taken place in areas close to where Weering’s parents had owned homes. Sadly enough, they had moved often, making the pattern hard to spot.
Evan had noted that one of Weering’s previous addresses had been the house Amanda’s mother had bought six years ago and subsequently lost in a divorce. The place where Amanda had last been, according to the wedding ring she’d left behind.
Wrong place. Wrong time. And her life had been destroyed because of it. Hell, so had his.
No wonder he wouldn’t mind if Weering was shot on sight.
But now was the time to concentrate on Amanda, to stop her from leaving, and to regain her trust.
He downshifted, taking the next curve fast. Almost home. He’d never thought of it as that before…not until Amanda and Christopher had come to stay with him.
The morning sunshine shone off the asphalt and over the bare branches of a tree that had been dropped across the road. To avoid a collision with the thick trunk, Evan wrenched the wheel of the Viper. The squeal of tires could be heard as the powerful sports car spun out of control.
STARING OVER THE STEEL railing of the second-story landing, Amanda sought detachment from her body. Weering had broken her spirit once. She wouldn’t let him do it again. She would be no one’s victim.
When his fingers brushed over her bare back as he raised the zipper on the wedding gown, she ignored the ripple of goose bumps on her flesh. She couldn’t feel revulsion. She couldn’t feel anything.
The knife blade pressed to her throat, he leaned close, murmuring in her ear, “I can’t wait to lower this zipper again, Amanda, when I make you mine for all eternity.”
She suppressed her fear, refusing to feed his madness. He wanted her scared out of her mind. He wanted her to beg for her life. She’d plot for it instead.
Detached, she informed him, “You won’t get out of here, William. The estate is a fortress. Mr. Sullivan is the only reason you got in. But you killed him, William, so he can’t help you anymore. No one will be able to help you if you hurt me. Evan will kill you.”
His deranged chuckle grated on the nerves she could barely contain. “That’s what I’m counting on, Amanda. That’s what I’m counting on.”
“You want to die?”
“All my life.”
“Then why haven’t you—”
“No one wants to die alone. But until you, I hadn’t found the one to share my destiny.”
“You’ve killed others, William. I know you have.” She fought against the shudder, the despair that washed over her when she considered the horrible fate of those other women. Those women who hadn’t been as fortunate as she had.
“Ah, Amanda, are you upset that you’re not my first?” Lips pressed against her hair, near the hard ridge of the scar he had put on the back of her head. “But you’re the only one I’ve felt this way about.”
Although she didn’t want to know, in order to stall him she had to ask it. “What way do you feel about me, William?”
He laughed as the knife blade bit into her skin again. “You’re the only one who hurt me, Amanda. You scarred me. Blinded me.”
Would he end it this quick, in a fit of temper and for revenge? She needed more time, time for help to arrive. For Evan to arrive. “I was fighting for my life and the life of my unborn child.”
“You fought to protect your child before he was even born. I admire that. I really do.”
“You’re going to hurt him, if you hurt me.”
“He’s young. He’ll get over it. After a while he won’t remember you at all.”
Pain lanced through her with the truth of his words. Was Christopher too young to remember her into adulthood if she left him now?
“It’s when you’re a little older, when things hurt you, that you carry them with you. That you have to make things even.”
“Hurting me won’t make things even, William. You’ve hurt so many others, and it’s brought you no peace.”
“Only death with you at my side, Amanda, will bring me the peace I’ve been seeking. All those years you had me locked away in prison, I realized that this was how it had to be. You and I…together
for eternity.”
His free hand gripped her arm, tugging her closer toward the stairs. “It’s time to begin our ceremony, Amanda, to seal our fates.”
“Where did you seal the others, William?”
“This is about us, not them.”
“No, I have to know. You’re just going to leave us here like you did Snake and that other poor man at the pier, but the others… No one found them.”
“And no one ever will.”
“Okay. But what about my car. My suitcases. My identity. Where did you hide all of that? With them?”
He uttered a short sigh. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I want to know. We’re one, you and I.” The words nearly gagged her, but she called to mind an image of Christopher, yesterday, riding atop Evan’s broad shoulders. She had to be strong for them.
“We’re going to be together for eternity, right? I need to know it all, William. Everything.”
He laughed again, the sound as soul searing to Amanda as the screams she’d heard from the wreckage of the car Weering had forced off the road on their way to Winter Falls. The sound brought her nothing but despair, an utter sense of helplessness. She couldn’t give in to it.
“William, I need to know,” she pressed.
“You’re stalling, Amanda. We both know it. Don’t think you’re smarter than me. Nobody’s smarter than me. Not even Evan Quade.” He chuckled some more, as if he were the only one privy to the punch line of a private joke. “He can’t get here, Amanda. He can’t help you.”
Detachment gone, paralyzing fear assailed Amanda. “You’ve hurt Evan?” Please God, no!
“Not yet. He won’t be hurt until he gets here, until he sees what I’ve done to you. But getting here won’t be that easy for him. He’s going to be detained.”
“How?” She knew Evan, remembered him completely, his passion, his ambition, his unwavering determination. “He won’t be stopped.”
But neither would Weering.
“Money, Amanda. It’s amazing what people will do for money. Keep dirty little secrets. My parents paid out a lot of money over the years to protect my secrets and theirs.”
