Deadly Obsession

by Jaycee Clark

  As the youngest, I’ve learned to please or face the consequences."

  Brayden glanced at his watch. Damn he’d been down here for almost an hour. "Is Christian awake?"

  "No." Aiden, dressed in what looked like fresh clean clothes, lounged on one of the workout benches.

  "We need to talk. And let little bro here in on some things."

  Bray huffed out a breath and collapsed in a chair, which sat against one of the many mirrors in the room.

  Raking his hands through his wet hair, he looked back up at Aiden and asked, "Did you get hold of him?"

  "Who?" Quinlan asked.

  Months before when Tori and Ryan had been kidnapped, Brayden and Gavin had learned the value of their absent brother, Ian, and his ‘shadowed’ life. Brayden still didn’t know what to think about his mysterious brother. The man had a way of solving problems and finding out information. Brayden didn’t care what tactics Ian used as long as he found out what Brayden wanted to know.

  And all he needed was a man’s name.

  He listened while Aiden filled Quinlan in on their secret, making him swear not to tell Mom and Dad. No one outside the room knew about Ian or any contact any of them had or didn’t have with the black sheep of the family. As far as society and their parents were concerned, Ian had left years before without a glance behind or a word to any of them. Brayden figured it was probably wise to keep it that way.

  Questions were answered and Quinlan fell into a brooding silence, for Brayden knew the look on his youngest brother’s face.

  Brayden asked Aiden again, "Did you reach him?"

  "Ian said he’d call you, or me. Either way he’d be in touch, probably some time today. He needed some details. Which brings me to topic number two." Aiden leaned forwards, his elbows resting on the end of the bench. "Are the cops coming today?"

  Brayden nodded. "Yeah. Becky said Morris called last night and they’ll be here around nine to talk to Christian again. We didn’t exactly finish last night."

  "Okay," Aiden said. "Listen carefully. Try, if you can, to remember everything she says. Ian, I have a feeling, will be in grilling mode. He was rather pissed."

  Brayden was well accustomed to the feeling. After a few minutes he rose. "Do you think...." He stopped, twisted the towel between his hands.

  "What?" two voices asked at the same time.

  "That phone call, last night." Bray turned and looked at his eldest brother. "Did you catch what the man said?"

  Aiden held his stare, arching a brow. "I wondered if you caught that. And if you did, then chances are Morris did too."

  Quinlan nodded. "He knows her."

  "What the hell are you all talking about?" Gavin asked, at a loss.

  Aiden quickly explained how the caller last night spoke as if he’d known Christian for awhile.

  "Or maybe he just thinks he knows her," Brayden muttered.

  Silence settled around them. Finally, Aiden cleared his throat. "As much as I hate to be the one to say this, we really don’t know that much about Christian. She didn’t want to talk about her past and we never pushed it."

  Abruptly, Brayden tossed the towel away and said, "I’m going to take a shower. I don’t want to be away from Christian for too long."

  As he got to the door, he heard Quinlan ask, "Exactly what does Ian do?"

  Aiden chuckled. "I’ve never asked, and I don’t intend to. I’d advise you to do the same."

  * * * *

  Christian sat in the living room on the couch. Everyone, save Brayden, was scattered around the house somewhere and not present.

  The cops were here and she was supposed to answer questions. Gabe Morris seemed more tense than normal, but then again, what did she know about tension. Let alone normalcy.

  "All right," Emma Laurence said. "We got a bit into this last night before the phone call. We have no way of knowing where it came from, the conversation was too short. But since we already have a tape Gabe provided yesterday, we have one voiceprint and we know they’ll match. If they don’t, then you’ve got more than one person after you Miss Bills and that doesn’t seem very likely."

  Her voice was straight and to the point, yet calm all the same.

  "You mean," Christian asked, "if you find this guy, if you get him to talk, you can match that person to the person who called."

  "The one who attacked you, yes."

  Another nail in the bastard’s coffin. She had some of her own. But those might take time. For now, she would give what she could.

  "All right, do you want to start at the beginning again, or would you rather pick up where we left off?"

  Laurence asked.

  "I want her start at the beginning," Lieutenant Morris interrupted. "She might have remembered something and doesn’t even realize it until she says it aloud."

  Or she could screw up. What had she said last night? She couldn’t really remember. Then again, what she did remember was garbled and hazy at best.

  Rubbing her forehead, she nodded and again started from when she came home.

  As the events unfolded, Brayden stood and walked to the window. His arms crossed. From here, she could see the tightened cords in his neck shift and bunch, the jump of muscle in his jaw.

  Laurence said, "So when you awoke you still didn’t see him?"

  She shook her head. "No, my head hurt and I was trying to figure out what had happened, where I was." She remembered his voice, teasing, calm and daring. She rubbed her hands over her arms. "Then I-I heard him. He grabbed my hair and kissed me. I tried to pull away and that’s when...." She trailed off.

  "That’s when what?" Laurence prompted.

  Christian swallowed and looked down at the throw over her lap. "That’s when I realized I couldn’t move." Taking a deep breath, she went on. "I still didn’t see him. Things were blurry and out of focus, but he said I was beautiful. Then he said tit for tat."

  "Tit for tat?" Gabe asked.

  She nodded. "He kissed me again, but bit my lip."

  The rest of the facts she relayed as she could. When she’d awoken this morning, she’d convinced herself she could get through this. She could. Just relay the bare facts with a few omissions. Not that hard.

  But the fear and the helplessness of it all clawed at her like a tiger playing with its food.

  "The phone kept-kept ringing. I remember wondering when I’d put the ringer back on, because I couldn’t remember. He’d just laugh when it rang."

  Help is so close, yet unattainable.

  She heard the click of Brayden’s shoes as he crossed to her. A shiver danced down her spine. The pain pill was wearing off. Brayden perched on the arm of the couch, his arm around her. She stiffened, knowing she wasn’t through with the story, but she didn’t want him to leave either. She held onto his hand, as though he somehow gave her strength to go on.

  Silence netted around them.

  "Okay, what happened when the phone rang?"

  "He just laughed," she repeated. "Just laughed, teased me. I couldn’t see, but he told me the phone was so close."

  "Bastard," Brayden muttered, but she heard him all the same.

  "Then what happened?" Laurence asked.

  She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t go into this with Brayden sitting right here beside her. Shame filled her, made her shake with humiliation and self-loathing. Anger sparked deep within her, but she buried it.

  Buried it until later.

  She closed her eyes, raised her hand to cover them.

  Laurence cleared her throat. "Would you rather Mr. Kinncaid leave?"

  She felt him shift, start to stand, but she tightened her hold on him, holding his hand with the both of hers.

  She didn’t know what she wanted.

  "He-he was wearing gloves," she whispered.

  "What kind?" Laurence asked, just as softly.

  "Leather."

  Leather. She would never forget how that warm material almost felt like a heated hand trailing over her, touching her, violating h
er.

  "I know this is difficult for you, but...." Again Laurence cleared her throat. "During the exam last evening you didn’t talk very much or answer many questions. With what happened, that’s understandable."

  Christian closed her eyes. She could feel Brayden tense beside her. Maybe she should have let him leave, but she couldn’t. If he was here, no one would hurt her.

  Laurence asked more questions, probing-probing for answers, for details.

  What she’d already told them turned her stomach.

  Bile rose hot in her throat.

  "I’m going to be sick," she said quickly, trying to get off the couch.

  Her ribs pierced through the nausea and had her gasping. Brayden helped her up and she all but raced to the nearest bathroom. She could hear his furious voice lashing out at the cops as she shut the door down the hall.

  After the heaves stopped, she leaned into the counter and tried to catch her breath. Her cupped hands shook so bad most of the liquid escaped before she could rinse her mouth with water.

  What was she doing? Was she making the same mistakes as she had before by keeping silent?

  No. No. No.

  She’d told others before and it got her nowhere. Nowhere, but pain. He won. He’d always won. And he’d pay her back, not only by punishing her, but by hurting those she cared about.

  Danny’s body in that cold casket flashed through her memories. Susan and her mother helping her onto the train. Susan’s father as he rode with her. Papa as they’d lowered his coffin in the ground.

  Her eyes slid closed and her bruised face faded from her sight in the mirror. She could survive what he did to her, but if he hurt any of the Kinncaids or her family, there was no way she’d ever forgive herself.

  She’d rather him just kill her.

  This was her home and her family.

  The Kinncaid motto echoed through her: This I’ll defend.

  It wasn’t just the Kinncaids. She still had a brother who would never expect the maliciousness Richard was capable of. Grandparents in Louisiana too old to be a match for this monster.

  The first will be Brayden and his little girl.

  Tori. Oh, God.

  Her hands shook as she dried them off and opened the door.

  Kaitlyn stood in the hallway. "Are you okay, sweetie? Do you need anything?"

  Christian shook her head and tried to take a deep breath.

  "You might want to get back in there. Brayden is threatening to throw them out and they’re adamant about talking to you about pictures."

  Pictures?

  She walked with dread back to the living room. Now everyone was in there, and on the coffee table were packets. Brown manila envelopes--she knew what the contents were.

  Gabe only arched a brow at her. "Shall you do the honors or shall I? No one here seems to know what’s in them. But you do, don’t you? And I do."

  Why was he angry?

  Gabe ripped open the top one and dumped the contents across the small table. Glossy eight by tens slid out across and onto the floor.

  He opened the next one.

  Brayden and Aiden stooped to pick them up.

  "What is this?" Brayden ask, first her then Gabe.

  She stood to the side of the boys and across from the police.

  "Well, now," Gabe said, "this, or rather, ‘these’ were found in her condo. Neatly labeled and dated, complete with his calling card." He flipped one up in a plastic bag. "My Angel."

  She saw Brayden turn to her, but kept her eyes on Gabe’s darkly raging ones. "Look Christian, these good boys don’t seem to know what the hell’s going on."

  The flutter of the photos swished through the air as someone flipped through them.

  "I never told them," she admitted.

  Gabe shook his head at her.

  "Why? How long have you.... When did all this.... How the hell long has this been going on?" Brayden finally managed to ask.

  She looked around to him, at everyone staring at her.

  Taking a deep breath, she said, "Since about a week after I moved into the condo."

  The skin across his face pulled taut, and his eyes narrowed on her. "Why, in the ever living hell didn’t you say something?" he asked quietly, too quietly.

  She dropped her gaze from his and could only shake her head and shrug.

  "Want my opinion?" Gabe asked.

  No one answered him.

  "I think this guy knows her, which means she probably knows him. I can’t help wondering if she’s not protecting this man. Then I ask myself who would she want to protect and more importantly why. Only people she has contact with are you guys. Maybe it’s one of you."

  Christian could only stare at him. "I told you before, it was none of them."

  "Why not?" he asked her. "The youngest has fair hair and green eyes. His build seems about right from what you’ve described."

  "What?" She couldn’t believe this.

  "Excuse me?" A male voice asked. Christian didn’t take the time to see who it was.

  "Maybe you and young Quin here had something on the side and he’s pissed cause you chose his older brother. Not wanting to tear the family up, you keep silent and..."

  "That’s enough!" A voice lashed out.

  She turned and saw Jock glaring at the cops. All the men were lined together behind her, Kaitlyn just to the side of her.

  "I will not have you insulting or implying something so horrible about a single member of this family," the patriarch said.

  Gabe ignored him, and turned to look at Quinlan. "You have an alibi for last night?"

  "It’s not him! It’s not! God!" she said, striding to Gabe, anger radiating out of her. Never would she allow anyone to defame this good family. "I told you before it wasn’t them, Gabriel, any of them. Why are you doing this?"

  "I want the truth."

  She didn’t understand his fury. "Are you pissed at them?" She pointed to her family behind her. "Or me?" Her voice wavered and caught.

  His dark look was flat as a shark’s. "I want to know why you never told them someone was following you, photographing you, sending you sick and twisted gifts and calling you," he said just as straight as his unwavering stare. "Why you never told them you were being stalked."

  "I don’t know!" she yelled. "I don’t know. I don’t know. Is this an ‘I told you so’, Gabriel? Do you think-think I don’t know I made a mistake?" She slapped her chest with her hand. "God, I’m slow, I’ll give you that. And with what happened, it’s probably a given I’m st-stupid."

  Tears streamed down her face. "I should have told them. I know that. It doesn’t matter I was coming to file an official complaint yesterday with you, does it? No, I should have done that before. And it’s beside the point I’d planned on telling them last night."

  The coffee table stood between them. Tears choked her, and her chest started to tighten with another attack. "I know I made a m-mistake. I think I realized it about the time the bastard slammed my face into a door. Or, no wait, I did get an inkling before that when he grabbed me in the kitchen."

  Rage volcanoed out of her. "But it became blindingly clear to me, Lieutenant, when I was tied to a damn bed and couldn’t stop the sonofabitch from copping a feel or jabbing his fingers or hands where the hell ever he pleased. I made a mistake. A mistake. I can’t go back and change it! I wish I could, but I can’t. I can’t." A sob caught her off guard. "Oh, God."

  Tears blurred her vision, and someone reached for her, but she shook her head and backed away. Her knees hit the edge of a chair and she crumpled, the emotions twisting her tighter and tighter until all she could do was release them.

  "It’s past time for you to go," Brayden said right beside her. "And if you can’t find the damn door, I’m sure one of my brothers can find it for you."

  She felt his arms go around her, stiffened within the embrace, then gave into the storm raging within her.

  His scent engulfed her and she let herself lean, took from the shelter he uncondition
ally gave as sobs rocked her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Venice, Italy

  Brayden shut down his computer. He’d just finished chatting with Aiden after he’d opened an email from Rob Roy. Ian. At least he assumed the email was from Ian. The police admitted they found blood and hair that didn’t match Christian, they were doing DNA tests. That was hopeful. And in the background, Aiden was quietly pressing Mom and Dad about Christian’s past to see if they knew anything.

  The feeling wouldn’t go away that she somehow knew this guy. Somehow, somewhere she had crossed his path.

  As soon as the police had left their house the morning after the attack, Brayden arranged to take Christian away. Italy appealed to him, and he knew she liked Venice. So to Venice it was. They’d been here for almost a week and he’d tried to get her out to see the city. But, she wouldn’t leave the palazzo he’d rented near the Grand Canal.

  Instead she was silent and withdrawn--understandable, but it was killing him. He’d removed the two phones installed in the palazzo. The only phone he used was his digital and he kept that on him. The first night here, she’d had a nightmare that the bastard was calling them. She had dozed off out on the couch.

  He’d told her over and over there were no phones, but it had taken forever to convince her there wasn’t a phone ringing. He figured it was the pain medication she took.

  Brayden stood and rubbed the back of his neck.

  Maybe tomorrow he could get her out to see Saint Mark’s Basilica. Tomorrow would tell.

  It was after midnight and he couldn’t sleep. The sitting room between their two bedrooms was silent, only marred by noises of the occasional vaporatto on the canal below. The palazzo was big enough to house his entire family, but he wanted to be close to her. So, he chose rooms that adjoined, for the most part.

  He stretched, realizing he wanted a glass of wine. He started for the kitchen but stopped at the muffled sound.

  Where?

  There it came again.

  He strode to Christian’s door and pressed his ear to it. If she was asleep he didn’t want to wake her up.