When did it start to snow? Not much. A light skiff that made climbing difficult under the best of circumstances. With her beat-up body, the twenty feet to the top looked like a mile.
Tyler wasn’t giving up now. Gritting her teeth, she started up, one inch at a time. She slid back, then started again. Two feet, then three. Only to slip back a foot. Climbing wasn’t made any easier with a metal bar in one hand. If she dropped it, she might make better progress.
Resting her head on the wet ground, she thought about it. The faster she got to the top, the better. Rocks could be used as weapons. Big sticks. A well-aimed foot to the balls. Right now, she needed both hands. With regret, she tossed the wrench as far away as possible. If she couldn’t use it, neither could anyone else.
Taking a deep breath, Tyler commenced climbing again. Don’t think about how icy your fingers feel or how at any moment your toes might break off like frozen shards. Getting to the top is the goal. Think about that, about finding help. Hot coffee, a steaming shower. Drew. Drew would make her warm again.
She was finally making progress. Nothing could stop me now, she thought with satisfaction. Then, all of a sudden, she slid back down, her fingers leaving ten distinct trails in the thickening snow. Feeling something on her ankle, Tyler realized, I’m not slipping. I’m being pulled.
“You made me crash, you fucking cunt.”
Tyler felt despair crash around her. M.J., his bloody face looming over her, was finally going to get his wish. He was going to kill her.
“Yelling at me. Making me look away from the road.” M.J. grabbed her by the shirt, pulling her up then slamming her back to the ground. “I would have missed that deer if it weren’t for you.”
Tyler felt the air rush from her lungs, the hard ground knocking it out of her. For a second, she let the idea of defeat take root in her brain. Give up. You’re exhausted. You’ve been fighting all your life. What has it gotten you?
Tyler’s eyes popped open. What has fighting gotten her? Friends, a career, a man to love. Everything. Tyler Jones was a fighter. That wasn’t going to change now.
Using her last reserve of energy, Tyler punched and kicked at the same time. Her fist connected with M.J.‘s already bloody nose, her foot going for his balls. Neither had much heft behind them. Luckily, it didn’t take much. M.J. fell back, clutching his face. It gave Tyler enough time to scoot away. This time she wasn’t going up; she was going sideways.
The bushes to her right would give her some cover. If M.J. were determined to pursue her, maybe they would slow him down enough to give her time to put some space between them. She started to crawl away when her hand landed on something hard and cold. Her fingers curled around the metal bar. Hello, old friend. If she’d had the energy, she would have cried.
“Die, bitch.”
Tyler rolled over, gripping the lug wrench in her hand, to see M.J. coming at her. He was only a few feet away, in his hand a rock. As he raised it, Tyler prepared herself. One more fight. She was ready. He took another limping step, raised his weapon. But before he could strike, a shot rang out. M.J.‘s body jerked back, falling to the ground.
Tyler stared disbelieving. A red patch spread across his chest. Blood, she realized. M.J. had been shot.
“Tyler.”
She heard her name seconds before she was pulled into Drew’s arms. She didn’t hug him back. She couldn’t. She was too dazed by the sudden turn of events. And she was still holding on to the lug wrench.
“Are you hurt?”
Drew gently smoothed the tangled hair back from her face. Not a pretty picture, she imagined. His vivid curses. Confirmed the fact.
“That mother fucking bastard.”
“Cold,” Tyler whispered.
Letting out another stream of obscenities, this time aimed at himself, Drew shrugged out of his coat. He carefully wrapped it around her, the lug wrench getting in his way.
“No,” she cried when he tried to take the bar from her hand.
“It’s okay, honey.” Drew gently pried the piece of metal from her fingers. “You’re safe. You don’t need that anymore.”
He gathered Tyler into his arms, starting up the hill without a backward glance at the man who lay bleeding in the snow.
“Need you.”
Tyler sighed the words as she finally began to relax. The strong arms that held her so securely tightened.
“You have me, Ty. Always.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
TYLER REMEMBERED VERY little after that.
There were a lot of people. Dani, Rose. She knew they were there, holding her hand, fussing. Voices hushed. She was in a car again. This time in the back seat, not the trunk. And Drew. She not so much remembered him holding her, talking, soothing. It was a feeling. Warm. Comforting. Safe.
The next thing she knew, she woke up in a hospital bed. An IV stuck in her arm, a heart monitor beeped somewhere out of sight.
She was achy more than in pain. A pleasant floaty feeling encompassed her body. Drugs. The good ones. Tyler smiled. They didn’t make getting slapped around, kidnapped, bruised from head to toe, and almost killed acceptable. They did make the aftermath a whole lot more pleasant.
“A smile. Must be the drugs.”
Tyler turned her head. Her smile got bigger when she saw Drew sitting next to her bed. He looked tired. His hair stood in several different directions, a scruffy beard covered his face. He took her hand, raising it to his lips.
“Hey, handsome.”
“Not pretty?”
Her gaze moved up and down. From his mud-caked boots to his weary eyes. No, not pretty. But he was the best-looking thing she had ever seen.
“Not right now.” She smiled again. “You need a shower. Then some sleep. How long have we been here?”
“A little over twenty-four hours.”
He kissed the back of her hand again before rubbing it against his face. Bristly. She turned her hand to cup his cheek. Nice. Something just yesterday she didn’t think she would ever be able to do again. Tears filled her eyes when she thought of how close she came to never touching his dear, dear face again.
“Hey.” Drew moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “You want to cry, go ahead. I might just join you.”
Caught between a sob and a laugh, Tyler felt her tears evaporate. Maybe later. Right now, she needed something else.
“Hold me.”
“Oh, Ty. There’s nothing I would like more. Honey,” Drew swallowed hard. “Thank God you’re in pretty good shape. Nothing broken, no concussion.”
“I was worried about that last one.” Tyler held out arms.
“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you. Right now, you’re pretty much one solid bruise.”
“I could have died.”
“I’m well aware.”
This time Tyler kissed the back of his hand, wanting to give comfort, reassurance.
“I didn’t. I survived. I’m here, and so pumped full of drugs the only thing that hurts is your refusal to hug me. Now, indulge me.” She scooted over. “Get in bed and take me in your arms.”
“Bossy.”
Taking time to remove his boots, Drew eased down beside her, careful not to jostle.
“These beds weren’t made for two, Ty.”
“Depends on how you do it.”
Tyler turned, keeping her hand with the IV out of the way. Once her back was to him, she looked over her shoulder, waiting.
“The rest is up to you.”
Drew took his time, which was fine with Tyler. In the end, they were spooning. She didn’t mind that he was outside the covers. His arm curved around her waist and his warmth enveloped her better than any blanket. Her body finally began to relax.
“Tell me everything I missed. Is M.J. dead?”
“No.”
“Good. My mother would have grieved.”
“Mmm. If Jack hadn’t pointed that out at the last second, things would be different. I was originally going for a head shot.”
Tyler let that
sink in. Was it terrible that, if not for her mother, she would be okay with M.J.‘s death? Who knew? The fact was he had never been a real brother to her. Given the chance, he was going to kill her. She wasn’t going to feel guilty. It was what it was. She wouldn’t have grieved.
“What about—”
“You first,” Drew interrupted. “Start with why you ever opened the door for that bastard.”
Tyler was amazed how removed she felt from the events. Something that began less than two days ago already seemed weeks removed. She was able to recount what happened dispassionately. Almost as though it happened to someone else.
“Now it’s your turn,” she said. “How did you find me so fast?”
She waited for Drew to answer. Waited. Frowning, Tyler reached back, touching his face. What she felt there made her breath catch. He was crying.
“Drew.”
“I almost lost you.”
He whispered the words, burying his face in her hair. Even with an overcoat of antiseptic and hospital, Tyler’s scent was still there. Drew breathed deeply. Savoring. Grateful beyond words to hold her safely in his arms.
“I love you. I always have. Even when I didn’t want to. When I was convinced my hatred obliterated every good feeling I’d ever had for you. Even then I couldn’t stop.”
“Always,” he promised. “From that day on the bridge through ten years of self-inflicted misery. Now and forever, Ty. I love you.”
Tyler let her eyes close. Sleep took over. She didn’t want to fight it. Drew held her; he would be holding her when she woke. Today, tomorrow, always.
“I’LL BE HOME for lunch. One o’clock.”
Tyler smiled when she read the note Drew left leaning against a freshly brewed pot of coffee.
Tyler was one week out of the hospital and she felt great. The bruises lingered. The one on her chin was a particularly nasty combination of yellow and green. The rest were fading fast. No headaches, no lingering stiffness. She was doing so well, Dani and Rose booked the three of them in for a hot yoga session the day after Thanksgiving. The day after tomorrow.
After much debate, Bobbie Wilde’s wish for tradition won out. If the house was bursting at the seams, all the better. Dani’s mother loved having people around, especially during the holidays. She embodied the phrase, ‘the more, the merrier.’
Tyler’s doctor gave her the okay, releasing her from the hospital one day after all the drama went down. Her mother wanted Tyler to come home. Anita’s home. As much as she loved the woman, there was no way she could ever stay in that house again. Bad childhood memories. Bad new ones. Traces of her brother would be everywhere.
M.J. was a subject she and her mother hadn’t discussed. Tyler knew Anita went to see him at the county jail in Spokane. The details of the visit would forever remain a mystery she didn’t want to solve. She couldn’t begrudge a mother for her need to see her child, no matter what he had done. Deep down, she even understood. That was as far as it went. She was glad M.J. wasn’t dead. As far as she was concerned, he might as well be.
This time when Drew suggested, or rather insisted, that Tyler move in with him, she didn’t hesitate. Being trapped in the trunk of a car? Thinking you were on your way to your death? It had a funny way of knocking out any bit of lingering doubt from a person’s mind.
Drew kindly invited Anita to move in while Tyler recovered. An offer her mother quickly refused. She said she wouldn’t want to intrude. Tyler suspected the truth was she wasn’t very comfortable around Regina Harper’s son. She wanted her daughter to be happy. She believed Drew was a good man. The rest would take time.
In the end, Anita visited daily, usually arriving just after Drew left for work, and staying for several hours. A perfect solution for all involved.
Tyler spent all of yesterday with Dani and Rose. Her studio needed cleaning out. Drew wanted to hire someone. Sweep it all away. Start over. She could make a list of anything she wanted to salvage, he would go and supervise. She loved him for the intention. Why go back? Forget the terrible things that had happened there
That would mean forgetting the good too, she argued. She wanted to make peace with the place that was her home, her studio. She was ready to give it up. First, she needed to say goodbye.
It turned out to be easier than she could have imagined. There were a few twinges, a little bit of wistfulness. She was able to walk through the building, pack up her belongings, then walk away. The worst part was seeing what M.J. had done to her work. Luckily, he only destroyed two projects. Everything else was either finished, shipped, or in the planning stages. She had already spoken to her clients. They were very understanding about the delay insisting she take her time and get back on her feet. They were willing to wait for an original Tyler Jones.
An original Tyler Jones. Knowing someone thought of her art that way gave her a little thrill. It might not be the most important thing; everyone liked to be appreciated.
Glancing at the clock, Tyler poured herself a cup of coffee before heading to her new studio. It was almost perfect. The light, the size. She could expand the kind of projects she took on. One side of the room was perfect for the pottery wheel she ordered yesterday. A few tweaks here and there. Soon she would have the kind of studio any artist would envy.
She was just cleaning up when she heard Drew come through the front door. It was becoming her favorite time of day. Five o’clock, ten, one. She didn’t care what the hour and minute hands read. Drew was home. That’s all that mattered.
Drew set his keys in the little bowl by the door. Tyler’s contribution. Handy, too. He liked the little things she added. Every day, the house became less his place. More theirs. And there was the contribution he liked most. Tyler.
She bounced down the stairs, her momentum carrying her across the room, into his waiting arms. He could live to be a thousand — this he would never grow tired of.
“You’re home.”
“Home?”
Tyler looked into his eyes, knowing what he asked.
“Yes,” she said, her gaze a steady crystal clear gray. “The house, my studio. They’re wonderful. My heart is where you are. You are my home.”
Drew felt his heart swell, a lump forming in his throat. So many years. Certain his chance had passed him by. This was his dream come true. Having the right to call Tyler his, to shout it to the world. No one could stop them. This time the future was theirs.
“I’ve told you, I’m fine. Squeeze,” Tyler teased when his hug was too gentle for her taste. “You didn’t treat me like I was made of glass last night. Or this morning.”
Her first night home from the hospital Drew gave every bruise and contusion on Tyler’s body a careful, close-up examination. He gently kissed them with his mouth, then loved her the same way. Last night was the first time she was able to convince him to fully make love to her. A new red lace bustier, garters, and stockings helped. A lot.
“Your naked body tends to turn my brain to mush. I forgot to be careful.”
“Forget again.”
Tyler trailed her lips across his jaw. Reaching his ear, she used her teeth on his lobe just the way she knew he liked it.
Drew felt his body, his brain included, responding in the usual way. From zero to off the charts in no time at all. He turned his head, giving her better access. No, he groaned, reluctantly pushing Tyler to arm’s length. Plans, he reminded himself. Any more of that and they wouldn’t get out of the house for a week.
“Lunch.”
“Later.”
Laughing when she tried to reach between his legs, Drew did a quick side step.
“Ty, I love your enthusiasm. Later, I promise.”
“Party pooper.” Tyler playfully stuck out her tongue.
“I have a surprise for you.”
Drew took Tyler’s hand, leading her to the front door. He got her coat from the nearby closet, bundling her up against the cold November weather. The snow that so inconveniently appeared on the day of her kidnapping promptl
y melted as fast as it arrived. It was replaced by bitingly cold temperatures.
“Where are we going?” Tyler asked as he wrapped a soft wool scarf around her neck and placed her favorite leather gloves on her hands. “The North Pole?”
Drew kissed the end of her nose.
“Do you want to catch cold?”
“I never catch cold.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
She might argue. The truth was she enjoyed Drew’s fussing. She would set him straight if it went too far. For now, it was just the right amount.
“Since your car was totaled, you need something to drive.”
“My insurance will cover it.”
“Partly,” he said. “It was what, five, six years old? Unlikely you’ll get full replacement value.”
“If you plan on giving me one of your cars, Drew, think again. They are all way too valuable. Every time I drove it, I’d be afraid of nicking the paint or having some idiot bang their door into mine in the parking lot at the grocery store.”
“With a few minor exceptions, they are meant to be driven, Ty. That’s why I take a different one out every day. Eyes closed?”
He steered her out the door, stopping at the top of the porch steps.
“This one is yours,” he said firmly. Standing behind her, he placed his arms around her waist. “No arguments. Open up.”
Almost afraid of what she would see, Tyler slowly lifted her lids.
“Drew,” she breathed.
It couldn’t be. Sleek. Bright red. A blast from the past she never thought to see again. His nineteen-fifty-five Thunderbird.
“But how? I thought you left it in Harper Falls when you went to college.”
“I did. Hurt like hell too. I assumed Regina would turn it into scrap metal.”
If You Only Knew (Harper Falls #3) Page 29
