by Melissa Fox
“Okay, sweetheart,” he agreed, still holding out his hand.
“She doesn’t matter, right? You see that now?”
“She doesn’t matter,” he repeated, glad Lisa didn’t recognize the fury in his tone. “I do see.”
Her mouth trembled into a smile as she took a step toward him. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything. I can’t believe this is finally happening. After everything I’ve done to get here, to be with you. All worth it.”
“Believe it,” he murmured, but his heart stopped when she paused only inches from his hand to scowl at Emma.
“And you almost ruined everything, you bitch. All my hard work and planning. Having to deal with those scum Salvatores. You distracted him, just like Liz did. You got so close with your damned investigation. I had to change my plans. You would have figured out I was involved sooner or later. Rico and Gina would have turned on me in a second. I had to get rid of them and teach them a lesson for hurting you.” Lisa’s earnest dark eyes flew to Ash’s. “I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, Ash.”
Ash took the brief second when Lisa looked away to examine Emma and send her whatever message he could with his eyes. I love you, are you okay, I’m sorry, do you have this, all in one frantic, quick glance. Pale and breathing heavily, she appeared calm and managed to lift her chin in assurance.
“Sweetheart. I told you she doesn’t matter,” he soothed Lisa, reaching slowly for the hand that wasn’t holding the knife. “Come with me.”
“Okay, Ash,” she said with a sick, coquettish smile, easily dismissing Emma’s life and everything she meant to him. “I’ve gotten really good with the knife, haven’t I? You know how strong I am, working out with you and Andy during your recovery and from my job. Lifting and moving rehab patients takes a lot of muscle. I’ve never put it to better use than killing those scum. I wasn’t sure I could at first. Thought I’d have to use a gun, but a gun is too quick. I wanted them to suffer, because they made you suffer. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. I made them pay for that.”
“Lisa.” Revulsion crawled thick up his throat. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t concentrate on anything other than keeping his shit together and getting to Emma.
“It was easy enough to convince Rico to meet me, considering the all the information I’d given him in the past. Even easier to get the oxycodone from work. I’d fake giving it to patients or give them something else and keep the pills, then dissolve them in water. Dumped it in his drink, waited until it took effect, and then put the blade on his neck in just the right spot. I know my anatomy. I’m strong. I’m very determined. Slice, dump the body, repeat with Gina. No one suspected a woman cut Rico and Gina’s throats—Slick’s, too—let alone it was me. No one suspected me of anything, not from the first.”
“The first?” He had to keep her attention away from Emma as long as Lisa held the weapon and therefore control of the situation, but he was running out of time.
“The first was Greg. Of course, that turned out to be an accident.”
The cold buzz of unreality stopped his calculations, and he tried to shake the effect off. His mental and physical prowess had to be at their sharpest to get to Emma as soon as possible. He had to get them out of the completely fucked up situation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lisa. Come out to the patio. Explain it to me.”
“Greg’s accident.” She laughed but made no move to go with him. “The one that killed him. That was me.”
Ash’s mouth opened and closed before he clenched his jaw. What the holy good hell?
“I knew the route he’d take home that night after we ran into him at the bar—going home with that bitch of his,” Lisa continued. Her eyes were alight with memory and malice. “I waited at the curve before the bridge, out of sight, until I heard him coming. I stepped out onto the road thinking he’d stop, get out of the car. I had a knife then, too, but Greg hit his brakes and lost control. I don’t think he realized it was me. I like to think he did, but who knows.” She shrugged and lowered the knife. “And…kaboom. He hit the embankment, and they were both gone. You aren’t the only one with the devil’s own luck, my love. I would have finished this one, too, if you hadn’t interrupted.”
She turned to Emma, and Ash took a quick, frantic step forward to distract her. “Come on, Lisa. Let’s get out of here.”
He reached for her, but she backed away to avoid his grasp. Taking a slow, even breath, he forced his lips to lift in a smile.
“Lisa.” His voice was a husky whisper. “Come on. Come with me.”
He raised his hand slowly, taking a chance and reaching out to brush along her collar, slide down her arm to where she held the knife. She stood quietly, watching him. He could overpower her. He’d take the chance she might cut or stab him before he could gain control over the blade, but Lisa was too damn close to Emma. If Lisa managed to get free, even for an instant, Ash had no doubt she’d plunge the knife into Emma’s heart.
“You love me?” Lisa asked.
“Of course I do.” He kept his eyes on hers, waiting for his opportunity.
“And she means nothing to you? Nothing at all?”
“No. You do. Come on.”
“Ash.” She tilted her head and moved her hand out of his reach. “I know you better than anyone.”
“You do.”
“I know when you’re lying.”
She lashed out with the knife, and if he hadn’t been watching so closely, she would have buried the length in his gut. He spun and jumped backward, dropping into a crouch, ready to spring as she raised the blade. He stayed low and launched himself, exposing his back, but he didn’t have any other option. If he hit her hard enough to take her down, he might have a shot at controlling the weapon. Ash tackled her around the thighs, and her body jerked with the impact just as he heard the deafening roar of a handgun.
His momentum slammed them hard into the wall. He grabbed Lisa’s wrist and twisted so the knife fell to the floor. Her body went unnaturally limp, and a hot, flowing wetness trickled over his neck and back. He rose up on his arms to see blood everywhere, pumping out of a wound over her left breast. Gasping for breath, he grabbed the knife so she couldn’t use the weapon against him and spun on his knees toward Emma.
Propped up in the corner, she held her weapon in steady hands, her forearms braced on drawn-up knees. He wavered but crawled closer, desperate to get to her, and after a second, she lurched forward. They met halfway, clutching at each other, and Ash dropped the bloody knife to the floor. Wrapping his hands in her hair, he held tight, pressing her into his body as hard as he could. The tremors wracking them might have come from him or her, probably both.
He untangled his hands and ran them frantically over her back and arms. “You’re okay? You’re bleeding. Emma.”
“You are, too.” She tried to push away, but he didn’t let her go far.
“No, not my blood.”
“It is. She got you.” Emma fingered the clean slice in his shirt, he hissed at the burn of a cut across the soft flesh of his stomach.
“It’s not bad. Emma, stop. Let me look at you.” Hands shaking as he held her, he examined the wounds on her neck and upper chest. His breath hitched. “Emma. Oh, God.”
“I’m okay.” Her eyes met his, wide and hazy with pain. “Or, at least I will be. Hurts, though. I think I should probably go to the hospital.”
“Emma!”
She blinked rapidly before her eyes rolled back into her head and she crumpled in his arms.
Life was too short. No one knew better than him. For as charmed as his life had been, he’d also been surrounded by death. So many people he loved had been taken away and in the cruelest manner. He often woke in the early hours of the morning to simply hold Emma, feel her warm and real against him, thankful for every beat of her heart.
Even with his body securely curled around hers, safe in their bed, the vivid memories of the minutes, hours, and days after
the paramedics had shown up at the house were vivid enough to prickle his skin with chills. He’d waited an eternity for them to arrive with Emma unconscious in his arms, her blood covering his hands. Torn between the two women, panicked at the thought he might have to save one over the other—the crushing guilt knowing which one he’d choose—the decision hadn’t been necessary. He’d seen enough fatal wounds to realize nothing could be done for Lisa, so he’d concentrated on Emma.
The longest damn minutes of his life. There’d been a lot of blood.
the garage, moving past the Mustang and his mom’s Range Rover—which Emma had been using—to the covered motorcycle at the far end. He dropped her hand and pulled the tarp away with dramatic flair to reveal the gleaming, pristine motorcycle.
“I’ve overhauled everything the past few weeks,” he said, examining the machine critically. “It’s ready to go out, if you want to go for a ride.”
Her lips parted and then closed. She took a few deep breaths, and when she finally spoke, her words encompassed more than a motorcycle ride. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
“I am absolutely ready. If you are.”
“I absolutely am.”
Pushing the bike out of the garage, he straddled the seat and held out his hand. She gripped his fingers, and he pulled her close for a kiss when the bright morning light glinted off the tears in her eyes.
“Here.” He handed her a helmet and secured the strap before donning his.
He sent thanks winging skyward for both their recoveries as she slid behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Driving along the lake road, he barely registered the scenery, more than content to simply enjoy the exhilaration of the wind in their faces and her body warm, solid, and alive against his back.
Eventually he slowed, following a side road leading to a private, scenic spot. He helped her remove the helmet and took her hand, walking to an area overlooking the water and trees. Spectacular view, but having her in his arms was even better.
“I think it’s time to open negotiations,” he murmured, placing warm kisses to her neck. Her head tipped back to give him better access before she pulled away and turned to look up at him.
“Here? Now?”
“No better time. Don’t want to waste a second. I’m going to be demanding, selfish, and stubborn, so fair warning.”
Her smile was only slightly wobbly. “Of course. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
“And that’s why I love you so much.” He kissed her forehead, nose, and lips with glancing brushes of his mouth. “You love me despite my faults and everything that’s happened.”
“Of course I do.”
“I’m going to tell you what I want. Forever, Emmaline, for as long as our forever lasts. I want kids. Want you with me, however we can manage, however we can work our jobs, our lives, our countries. I want to work it out with you, together.” He lowered himself in front of her, so he was on one knee. She stifled a sob with her hand. “I want to marry you. Let’s start there—start with our forever.”
“Oh, God,” she breathed, her eyes filling with tears.
“Will you marry me, Emmaline? That’s the only part I’m not willing to negotiate.”
“Me, either. Yes. Yes, Ash, I’ll marry you.”
He stood and wrapped his arms around her, swinging her in a circle with a whoop before kissing her to seal their deal. He’d traveled a long road to get to where he’d always wanted to be—with the woman he would love forever and make a home and family. The past firmly behind him, he looked forward to the future—a bright, optimistic future. The one he held in his arms.
Setting her back on her feet, he gave her a purposeful leer. “So, next up. Let’s negotiate something else I really want. Me making love to you on that rock and starting on the first of those six kids.”
He pointed to a large boulder, and delighted laughter burst from her, which quickly grew disbelieving when she realized he was serious.
“Six?” She shook her head, pushed out of his arms and backed away, holding out her hands to stop him as he stalked her. “No way. Not a chance. Not going to happen. Ash. Stop!”
She turned to run, but he grabbed her up and had her jacket and shirt open, her jeans undone, before she could even catch her breath.
Ash didn’t mind her protests. He was very good at negotiation.
Acknowledgements
What would any of us do without the brilliant and generous people who support us? Jennifer Barry, first and foremost. Thank you for everything you are and do, and it’s a lot. Editing, cover help, formatting, uploading, general support and handholding. Tiffany Nichols for her editing skills—she had a look at this sort of unofficially and very early on, so any subsequent errors are all mine. Tricia Saxby for her time and effort pre-reading, suggestions, and discussion. Sarah Watson, who has stuck with me since the very beginning. Thanks for helping me along this ride.
About the Author
After being rationed books by my parents like most kids get rationed candy, I turned to writing to tide me over between fixes. I love to get lost in a captivating, exhilarating story, whether reading or writing. Nothing is better than being drawn into a story so deeply you don't realize you're turning a page until you've reached the end, and the characters live on in your heart and mind long after the cover has been closed.
I’ve lived in the suburbs of the Mid-West, desert of the Southwest, and foothills of the Rocky Mountains, and I’m now on an island in the Puget Sound with my husband and dogs.
Author of the paranormal romance Wraith series published by The Wild Rose Press.
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Reviews are greatly appreciated but never required. Thank you so much for reading!
Table of Contents
PART ONE
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
PART TWO
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Stop by and say hi!
