I’m sorry, Marcus. I should have done better with you. Appreciated you instead of pushing you. I’m sorry.
The knife came down, touching the fabric, and Angie flailed about. She looked down, imagining Marcus breaking through the doors – but he wasn’t there.
I’m in this alone.
She brought her leg up then, directly between Copeland’s legs. He screamed in pain, rolling off of her, and Angie scrambled out of his grasp.
Angie grabbed the gun from the floor and raised it. Copeland was coming at her again, knife raised, and Angie aimed the pistol at his chest and fired. The shot went wide, hitting him in the left shoulder, so she fired again. A round caught him in the stomach and he doubled over, but still kept coming. She fired another time. He collapsed to his knees, struggling to breath, blood pouring onto his expensive carpet.
The door behind her slammed open and Angie turned, aiming the pistol – and saw Marcus. His golden eyes went wide, his revolver clutched tightly in one hand. He aimed it right at Copeland. Angie turned to see he was starting to stand up.
“Are you okay?” Marcus asked, sprinting up to her. He was breathing hard. “I never should have let you go.”
“I’m okay,” Angie whispered. “It was Copeland the entire time.”
“I know,” Marcus breathed.
Copeland cackled, blood streaming from his lips.
“You’re going to prison for a long time, Copeland,” Marcus roared.
He laughed even harder, one of his hands pressed to his stomach to staunch the bleeding. “I’m going to die, fool. You’re no better than me, Angie. You’re a killer.”
“No…” she whispered.
“It was self-defense,” Marcus whispered back. He got in her line of sight and tried to bring her out of it.
I just killed a man. I didn’t murder him, but… I’m a killer.
“Marcus… He’s right…”
“No, he’s not,” Marcus said. He grabbed her by the back of the neck, ever so slightly, and tilted her head up. He kissed her lightly on the forehead.
Then he turned around, took three large steps towards Copeland, and grabbed him by the throat. Copeland’s knife flashed out, stabbing Marcus in the chest, once, twice, three times.
Angie screamed.
Marcus took two more steps, still carrying Copeland by the throat, and threw him. Copeland shrieked in alarm, crashing through the window, and then Angie heard a sickening crunch from far below mixed with the sound of raining glass.
Marcus was standing at the window, looking down, and Angie ran to his side. She didn’t even bother looking downward. She knew Mayor Copeland was dead. Instead, she looked at Marcus’s wounds. They were long but shallow. He would be okay.
“I couldn’t let you,” Marcus whispered. “You don’t deserve that on your conscious.”
“You don’t, either.”
He gave her a sad smile. “I’ve lived with it for nearly five years, now. One more isn’t going to hurt.”
Angie didn’t know why, but hearing those words broke her heart. She grabbed Marcus then, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her. And then she started to cry, simultaneously exhausted, scared, and happy to be alive and safe in Marcus’s arms.
Marcus finished up his report, nodded to Officer Tancredi, and walked over to the ambulance. Angie was sitting in the back of it, looking annoyed, a blood pressure cuff wrapped tightly around one arm.
“Miss Campbell,” he said with a nod.
“Sheriff,” she answered with a grin. With everyone else around, they’d gone back to Miss Campbell and Sheriff Stone. She had to admit that she kind of liked it; it was like their own little game. “Will you tell this man that I’m perfectly fine?”
The paramedic checking her vitals ignored the question. Marcus couldn’t help but say, “He’s just doing his job.”
She shot him a glare, sighed, but nodded just the same.
The coroner pushed a cart with a body bag past the ambulance. Both Marcus and Angie watched it until it was out of view.
“Thank you for what you did back there,” she said.
Marcus just nodded again. He couldn’t imagine letting Angie kill Copeland, even in self-defense. Something like that, it changed you. He knew that for all of the wrong reasons and he wouldn’t let Angie go through it.
“You’re good to go,” the paramedic said, interrupting his thoughts. He grabbed the cuff off of Angie’s arm. She gave him her thanks – Marcus didn’t think she really meant it – and hopped off the back of the ambulance.
“So,” she said.
“So.”
“Where do we go from here?” she asked. She looked a bit uncomfortable, unsure of what to say next.
And does she think that I do? I’m never been more lost in my life.
“Well, I’m going home,” Marcus told her. “And you’re more than welcome to join me.”
“I’d like that, Sheriff,” she said, and together they walked to Marcus’s borrowed police car. She could get her rental car later. They probably weren’t too happy with her, anyway, but she wasn’t worried about that. “It’s a shame about your Bronco.”
Marcus grunted as they pulled away from the Mayor’s office. Things were dying down there and Marcus would be reachable by radio. They didn’t need him on the scene any longer.
“I’m sorry,” Marcus told Angie. It was hard for him to say those words, but he had to. He glanced at her. She obviously didn’t know what he was sorry for. He explained, “I should have found out sooner. I knew there was something there, something that I was missing – and I couldn’t put my finger on it. Things didn’t click into place until Joanna Rivers showed up and said that the Mayor was in the bar that night.”
“Joanna Rivers came to your house?” Angie asked. She tried to be nonchalant about it but he could tell that it had gotten under her skin.
She’s jealous. She’s actually jealous of another woman.
And here I am acting like a fool. She’ll be leaving soon, and all I can do is keep pushing her away. What is wrong with me?
If you don’t act fast, you’re going to lose her.
“She was the reason I found out who the killer really was,” he said.
“Hmmm,” she muttered. “I didn’t need you, you know.”
“I know. I know you didn’t, Angie. You had him dead to rights. You were the one who saved the day, not me. I didn’t do anything except –”
She cut him off and said, “Wait, Marcus. That wasn’t fair. I did need you. You stopped me from doing something I would have to live with for the rest of my life. You stopped me from killing him… There’s no way I can ever repay you.”
Marcus didn’t know what to say to that, so they just drove in silence for a few minutes, eventually turning into his driveway.
“I never would have thought he was the killer. Why? Was it worth it?”
Marcus shrugged. He’d figured out the gist of it on the way into Charming. Angie had filled in the rest. He knew Copeland was power hungry, but never in a million years would he have thought that he would want it enough to kill for it. Especially his own son…
What would I do for power? He pondered that question. He didn’t want power; not exactly. But he wanted to be accepted around Charming. He didn’t want to be looked down upon. He wanted friends. He wanted to head into town and be liked.
In a way, that was a sort of power.
I would never have killed for it, though.
He’d already bent his morals enough by trying to keep the murder under wraps. In a way, though, by doing that he had fought against Copeland and helped stop him.
They pulled up to his house and stepped out of the vehicle. The sun was setting in the horizon and they walked up to the house slowly, content with the warmth of the sun and the quiet this far out of town.
“Stay long enough for dinner?” Marcus asked. “I have some steaks that need to get cooked soon.”
“I’d like that, Marcus,” she told him. “Plus,
I need to my clothes.” He couldn’t help but smile at her. For once, everything that had been hanging over him had faded away. Things weren’t perfect and they never would be, but right then, things felt okay.
Angie followed Marcus into the house. He opened the fridge and pulled out the two steaks, his eye catching the two beers way in the back. He set the steaks to the side and grabbed the two bottles of beer, pulling them out and looking at them carefully.
“Marcus?”
He glanced over at Angie and then back at the beers. Then he smiled, walking back to the sink and cracking the first one open, then pouring it down the drain with satisfaction. Then he opened the second and poured that one out as well before he grabbed the bottles and tossed them in the trash.
He felt better.
“That was my wife,” he said, nodding towards his room. “That picture of us? It was taken right after we got married. Her name was Lindsey.” He watched Angie’s face. There was no surprise there, but there was a hint of sadness.
“Marcus, you know you don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“I want to,” he said. And it was true, he did want to. He’d been carrying all of the baggage around for years. He wanted to get it off his chest, even if the person he was telling would soon go back to New York and leave his life forever. He had to.
“I was drinking,” he began. Saying those words hurt him. He’d never once told anyone what had happened between him and his wife. “I was four beers deep into that six pack when she called me. Her car had broken down a couple of miles out of town. Not here in Charming – we lived up north. I’d just graduated the police academy and was excited to try out my new car.
“So I hopped in it. I felt fine. Maybe I was – maybe I wasn’t. Shifters can hold their liquor pretty well. I picked her up. We were laughing – nothing could bother us. Not even that her car had broken down in the middle of the night.
“Maybe it was because I was paying more attention to her, maybe it was because I’d had a couple of beers, I’m not sure. But another car was coming over a ridge up ahead. I never saw him coming. He was drunk – his BAC was nearly twice the legal limit. And he hit us head on.”
Marcus stopped his story. It was getting harder to tell since he’d never opened up to someone before. Never talked about what had happened to his wife. He felt his breath hitch in his throat, halfway to a sob.
Angie was suddenly at his side, coming close. He felt guilty, telling her about his wife and what he had done to her, like he was tarnishing her memory. He’d half expected Angie to scream at him, tell him what a monster he was, but she just came close.
And it feels good. Not just telling her and letting everything out. Her being this close.
He could feel the heat from her body, pressing up against his. The softness of her fingers as they caressed the side of his face. The smell of her, so warm and happy.
“Marcus…”
“She died in my arms, Angie.”
“That’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known…”
“I shouldn’t have had those beers. I should have been paying attention. I did everything wrong, and I killed her.”
“Marcus. You didn’t kill anyone. Everyone makes mistakes. You couldn’t have planned for that…”
“I could have. I should have. She trusted me, Angie. And because of my mistakes, she died.”
“No,” she told him, her voice firm.
“She was from here, you know. Charming. Grew up, born and raised. She was popular, well liked. Once she died, I didn’t know what to do. Since I was an officer, I was never even considered at fault for the accident. All of the blame fell on the other man, and I let it. I disappeared, then. Moved here, bought some land with the money we’d saved up. She’d always talked about moving back home, owning a little ranch, her own slice of heaven with her big, brave police officer husband. And look what happened.”
“Marcus… I’m sorry…” Angie whispered. “You’re a wonderful man, Marcus. Whatever you did, all of those years ago – that doesn’t define who you are now. You saved me today, Marcus. You saved me when Jimmy Rivers shot me. You put yourself out there, for me. And there’s nothing I can do or say that will ever be able to repay you.
“Marcus, you’re not a bad man. And you don’t have to punish yourself any longer. You can live your life, Marcus. It might not be with me – it doesn’t have to be with me. But you deserve to be happy, either by yourself or with someone. You don’t need to be miserable. She’d never want that.”
He was silent for a few moments. Hearing Angie say all of the things he’d tried – and failed – to tell himself over the years was like a salve. He knew she was right, and he’d known he’d been right when he tried to tell himself that all of these years.
Maybe I can finally accept it. Finally move on.
But he realized something‒ he didn’t want to do it alone. He didn’t know if he could do it alone. He wanted Angie here. He wanted Angie to stay.
But he knew she never could. She had worked her whole life to build her career, and she was good at it. This was only a minor setback, a bump in the road for her.
I could never ask her to stay. No matter how much it would mean to me.
“Okay,” he said, nodding and giving her his best smile. “Okay. Are you hungry?”
Angie looked up at him, still pressed up warmly against his body. He wanted to take her in his hands, lift her into the air and carry her to his bedroom and finish what they’d started earlier this morning. He wanted to tell her that he cared about her more than he could ever put into words, wanted to tell her that he needed her here, that without her he was a broken man…
Angie looked at him sadly and nodded before reluctantly pulling away. And instead of grabbing Angie and running to the bedroom, he grabbed the steaks and headed outside towards the grill, Angie following close behind him.
His life wasn’t perfect. Hell, it never would be again. But heading out to the grill, talking and smiling with Angie, everything felt okay.
Even if it’s only for one night.
Chapter 24
Angie sat in Marcus’s chair, watching TV but not really paying attention, the sound of the shower a distant background noise. She’d sat back and watched Marcus as he grilled the steaks, talking and laughing the entire time.
Something changed after he told me his story.
It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
The steak had been amazing – somehow, despite only living by himself, Marcus had cooked it perfectly. He’d thrown on some vegetables onto the grill, something she hadn’t expected to be in the diet of a man like himself, and those, too, were delicious.
But they paled compared to his company.
I’m going to miss him, she knew. She’d considered staying in Charming a little while longer. She certainly didn’t need to go straight back to work.
But I don’t want to lead him on. I can’t stay here forever, and he knows that. And I certainly can’t ask him to come back to New York with me. It wouldn’t be fair.
She heard the shower turn off and then moments later, Marcus came out of the bathroom. Steam billowed out of the small room behind him. A towel was wrapped tightly around his midsection and she could see the shallow cuts inflicted by Copeland’s knife. They didn’t seem to bother him, though.
“I’m going to go get changed,” he said. She nodded and looked back at the TV, still half paying attention. He left the living room and she heard the laundry room door shut. She couldn’t help but grin, thinking back to the time she had seen him. It felt like a lifetime ago.
He came back out a few minutes later wearing a pair of sleep pants and an old shirt.
“We match,” she told him. It was true. She was dressed almost exactly like he was in his old clothes.
“I don’t have much to choose from,” he said with a shrug.
“You look different, you know, Sheriff,” she told him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not
in jeans, without your belt and revolver at your hip.”
He looked bemused but didn’t answer. Instead, he sat down on the couch and looked at the TV. They were watching the nightly news. Angie hadn’t been paying much attention until she saw it was about a murder case; for a split second, she had thought it would be about Irving Copeland and his insane ideas – but it wasn’t.
She tuned it out and instead turned her thoughts inward.
What can I say to him? What should I say to him? Should I say anything at all?
She looked over at Marcus, who glanced over at her – but neither of them said anything. There was an awkwardness in the room. Both knew that their time together was coming to an end.
“Your clothes won’t be done for another few hours,” he told her. “I can take you in when they’re done, or you can stay another night. Either is fine.”
She considered a few moments and said, “I don’t think I want to ever spend another night in the Great Southern. I’ll crash here one more time if that’s okay with you, Sheriff.”
“Anything for you, Miss Campbell.”
They watched a sitcom that came on after the news, though neither of them laughed much. The sun had gone down and Angie was feeling tired, so she stretched and got up.
“I’m going to lay down,” she told him.
“Okay,” he said, getting up – as if he was unsure what to do.
Just come with me. Come to your bed with me.
“Goodnight, Angie,” he told her. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
“Goodnight, Marcus,” was all she said, though what she really wanted to say was, I need you to come to bed with me.
She went to his room, feeling so utterly alone. She knew he couldn’t come to his room. He’d bared his soul to her, yet there was no way they could be together. She knew that, even if she didn’t like it.
She’d just pulled up the covers when she heard something by the door. She gasped, instantly turning back to flight or fight mode – but it was just Marcus.
“I want you,” he said. “Just for tonight. I want you.”
Angie felt a stirring between her legs; she hadn’t expected him to come into the room like that. She felt her heart beating in her chest. It was exactly what she’d been wanting.
Blood Moon (Bear Sheriff Book 1) Page 15
