Mindy tightened her grip. “Looks like I’m going to get to kill two birds with one stone tonight.”
30
Michael ran inside the crumbling room. “Em!” he called out. He froze when Mindy pointed the gun at him.
“You can stop right there, Michael,” Mindy said, giving a sharp pull to Em’s hair.
He raised his hands. “Mindy, it doesn’t have to be like this.”
Kyle entered the room.
Mindy’s eyes went wide. “What are you doing here, Kyle?”
“We can’t do this, Aunt Mindy. It’s got to end,” he said and walked slowly toward her.
“Stop!” Mindy yelled, her gaze dancing wildly. She released Em’s hair. “Michael and Em, I want you both right where I can see you.” She gestured toward a bank of broken windows.
Em got to her feet, gave Mindy a tentative glance, and met him at the wall.
He cupped her face. It was smudged with dust and gray powdery streaks. “I saw the car. Are you hurt?”
“Shut up!” Mindy screamed, pacing back and forth.
Em gave him a quick nod. “I’m okay.”
“Kyle,” Mindy groaned. “I told you I’d take care of this.”
“No, you told me you needed to talk to Em alone. When I texted you, you didn’t say anything about taking her at gunpoint.”
Mindy shook her head. “You’re the one who told me they’d been poking around the hollow for weeks. I saw them at the diner in Garrett asking all about Tina. They’d found the memorial on the side of the road. I told you to stop maintaining that little shrine to your guilt.”
“I’ve told Michael everything,” Kyle said, bloodshot eyes meeting his aunt’s gaze. “He knows I took Em here after she drank the spiked punch. He knows I killed Tina Fowler. He knows you cut Em’s hand.”
Mindy looked at the ceiling and let out a primal cry. “She doesn’t get to have everything! Have you heard her play? Tom can’t stop talking about her. He thinks she’s even better than she was before. And him.” She pointed to Michael. “Wasn’t he the reason you wanted to spike that girl’s drink to begin with? Isn’t he the reason this whole charade started? Both of them have stood between us and our happiness, Kyle.”
Kyle kicked a mound of crumbling cement. “We can’t do this. It has to end. This has haunted me my entire life.”
Mindy took Kyle’s hand. “This can all be okay. You have a chance to run for state office. You have a chance to bring some honor back to our family. All your mother ever wanted was for you to make something of yourself—to not end up like your father.” She turned to Em. “You should have never come back to Langley Park. You should have stayed holed up half a world away.”
The whine of a siren carried in through the room on an icy breeze.
Mindy turned toward the bank of broken windows. “What is that?”
“I called the police when Kyle and I found Em’s car,” Michael said. “It’s over, Mindy. Put the gun down.”
Mindy turned to Kyle. “You let him call the police? It’s not just your ass that’s on the line. Did you think about me? About Tom? About your mother?”
Kyle dragged his hands over his face. “I didn’t want any of this to happen. Hitting Tina was an accident. I was exhausted. I was worried Em was going to overdose. I wasn’t paying attention. But it happened, Aunt Mindy. I killed Tina Fowler. I should have gone right to the police.”
Mindy barked out a laugh. “My brother failed you and your mother. I’m not going to fail you now.” She lifted the gun and pointed it at Em. “You don’t get to have everything, Mary Michelle MacCaslin. You don’t deserve it. You never worked for it.”
The police cars advanced up the drive. Sirens blared and lights flashed in a tangle of red and blue.
Mindy aimed the gun and fired. Michael threw his body in front of Em as a hot burn seared his shoulder.
“No!” Kyle yelled, wrestling the gun from Mindy’s hand.
“Did you get hit?” Michael asked.
Tears streamed down Em’s cheeks. “No, you did. You’re bleeding.”
Another shot echoed through the room. They looked up to see Kyle, holding his stomach, blood soaking through his shirt. A shocked Mindy stood slack-jawed, the revolver clutched tightly in her hands.
Car doors opened and closed in a cacophony of sharp pops. A voice cut through the air. “Garrett Police. Drop your weapon.”
Mindy dropped the gun as Kyle fell to the ground, clutching his stomach.
Michael rose to his feet and kicked the gun to the corner of the room. “We need a medic. A man’s been shot.”
“Two men,” Em called out. She took off her coat, balled it up and pressed it to his shoulder.
“Em,” Kyle said, in a hoarse whisper.
They turned to where Kyle lay in a pool of blood. He raised a blood-soaked hand toward Em. “I’m sorry. I never meant for you to get hurt.”
She clasped his slippery hand. “I know, Kyle. I know,” she said. “Hold on, Kyle. An ambulance is on the way.”
“Let the Fowlers know I’m sorry. Let them know it was an accident. She didn’t suffer. She was gone by the time I was able to check her pulse.”
“Kyle!” Mindy cried out.
His features relaxed and the corner of his mouth lifted into one last smile. “It’s over, Aunt Mindy. It’s finally over.”
Michael exhaled and listened to the array of beeps and low chatter that floated in from the hospital corridor. An ambulance had brought both himself and Em to the Garrett Community Hospital, and she wouldn’t leave his side. She lay asleep in the tiny hospital bed curled around him.
A nurse gave a quick tap on the door then entered and checked the monitors. “Everything looks good, Michael.” She lifted the dressing covering his right shoulder. The bullet had only grazed him, and there was no muscle damage. “The wound isn’t showing any signs of infection. As long as you apply the topical ointment and change the bandage, you should be as good as new in no time. We’re still going to keep you both overnight just as a precaution.”
“Can you tell me if Kyle Benson made it?” A lump formed in his throat. The image of Kyle’s bloody hand clasping Em’s was tattooed on the back of his eyelids.
The nurse shook her head. “No, he was deceased when he arrived at the hospital. I’m very sorry.”
Michael exhaled and tightened his grip on Em.
The nurse gave him a sympathetic smile. “There are a few people out in the waiting room who would love to see you. Would you like me to send them back?”
He nodded. The nurse went to the door and waved. Within seconds, Sam, Nick, and Zoe filed into the room.
“Hey cuz! How’s the shoulder?” Sam asked, laying a protective hand on his leg.
“It’s going to be fine. It was just a graze,” Michael answered.
“And Em? Is she going to be okay?” Zoe asked.
Michael brushed the waves of auburn hair from her sleeping face. “She’s a tough little thing. She’ll be okay.”
“We heard about Kyle Benson,” Nick said.
Michael nodded. “The nurse just told me. I wonder if anyone’s contacted his mother?”
Nick crossed his arms. “They must have. We saw her come into the hospital with a deputy.”
A heavy silence swallowed the room. Anita Benson, once Anita Hale, had tried to break free of the Hale name, only to have her son and sister-in-law fall victim to the Hale curse.
“How did Mindy Lancaster play into all this?” Nick asked.
“She was Kyle’s aunt.” Michael glanced at Em and lowered his voice. “The night of her injury, Em accidentally drank a spiked drink Kyle had meant for another girl. He freaked out and took her to the Hale Cement Plant so nobody would find out she was drugged. He panicked when she got worse and decided to take her back to the hollow. He hit a local girl named Tina Fowler on the way back. She died right there on the side of the road.”
Zoe gasped. “The Fowlers never knew what happened.”
&nb
sp; “Now they’ll know,” Michael said with a weak smile. “Instead of calling the police, Kyle called Mindy. She met him at the hollow. She told him she would get Em back to her tent and sent him home.”
Zoe raised a hand to her chest. “Mindy purposely injured Em’s hand?”
“She dragged Em over to The Steps to Hell, found a broken bottle, and…” He couldn’t go on.
“But, why?” Sam asked.
Michael shook his head. “Jealousy. Deep-seated resentment. Mindy’s husband, Tom, was Em’s first violin teacher. He was the driving force behind Em becoming a world-class musician. Mindy hated feeling second best. She was terribly jealous of Tom’s connection to Em.”
“It’s hard to believe she could do something so cruel,” Zoe said, taking a seat on the corner of the hospital bed. “You think you know someone; then you find out it’s all a lie.”
Sam took a step back and stared out the window.
A slight man in a white coat walked into the room reading a chart. He pushed a pair of glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I wanted to let you know that the blood work for Ms. MacCaslin came back. Everything looks perfect for both her and the baby.”
“Baby!” Zoe, Sam, and Nick all said in unison.
The doctor startled and looked around, seemingly oblivious to the three adults standing inches away from him.
Michael chuckled. “We’ve got some news.”
Em turned her head from side to side and opened her eyes. She scanned the room then met his gaze.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “The gang’s all here.”
“Ah, good, Ms. MacCaslin. You’re awake,” the doctor said.
“I was just telling Mr. MacCarron your blood work is completely normal. The chart says you’re about six weeks along. Would you like to hear your baby’s heartbeat?”
Em looked past the doctor and gave a small wave to Zoe, Sam, and Nick. “Hi, guys. I’m pregnant.”
“Yeah, we got that,” Zoe said.
“How long have you known?” Sam asked, his wide-eyed gaze locked on Em’s stomach.
“What time is it?” Em asked.
“About half past ten,” Nick answered.
Michael looked down at Em. “About eight hours.”
“Sounds about right,” she answered, her blue eyes sparkling as she gave him a shy smile.
“Holy mother of pearl!” Zoe exclaimed.
A nurse entered the room with a portable ultrasound.
“Is everyone staying for this?” the doctor asked.
“Hell to the yes, we’re staying,” Zoe said. She sat down on the edge of the bed and patted Em’s leg.
The doctor lifted the hem of her hospital gown.
“Wait!” Zoe said. “That’s not her belly.”
“I’m doing a transvaginal ultrasound.”
“You’ve got to go up her you know what?” Zoe asked.
The doctor nodded. “It’s the best way to see the baby at this early stage of development.”
Zoe stood and stepped away. “I’m going to let you trans-vag away from over here.”
Em shook her head then nodded for the doctor to proceed.
A grainy black and white picture appeared on the monitor.
“Ah,” the doctor said. “There you are.”
Michael stared at the fuzzy screen. “That’s our baby?”
“Yes, it is. I see the heart and the yolk sac. That’s what’s going to give your baby nourishment until the placenta forms.” He pressed a button, and a rapid whooshing beat filled the room.
Em squeezed Michael’s hand.
“That’s the baby’s heartbeat?” Em asked.
“It is. One hundred and forty beats per minute. Perfectly normal.”
“It’s going to be a whole new world for us,” Em said, her voice tinged with wonder.
Michael looked around the room. All eyes were glued to the monitor and the tiny, peanut-sized life pulsing in fuzzy waves of black and white.
Em tilted her head and met his gaze. In her deep blue eyes, he saw the laughing girl with auburn braids. She was beckoning him to run through the pouring rain and stand by her side.
“I can promise you this, Mary Michelle,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “No matter what happens, we’re always better together. But now, it’s going to be the three of us.”
Epilogue
Em’s pearl necklace bobbed between her naked breasts. “We’re never going to get this crib put together.”
She pressed her hands against Michael’s chest, her pelvis grinding into him in smooth, steady thrusts. He gripped her hips and guided her body as she rode his cock. The late morning sun sent streams of golden light through the room. It highlighted her auburn hair and cast a soft glow on the gentle rounding of her stomach.
Em was almost twenty weeks along, and Michael loved everything about her pregnant body. The added weight of her breasts. The curve of her hips. To him, there was nothing sexier than Em, pregnant with his child. And he certainly did not mind her ramped-up pregnancy sex drive.
“You’re the one who came into the nursery wearing nothing but a necklace,” he breathed.
Her lips drew into a wicked grin. “I don’t see you complaining.”
He answered her taunt by rolling his hips. She gasped and arched her back as he dug his fingertips into the flesh of her sweet ass. She was stunning. Head thrown back in ecstasy. Body writhing. Biting her bottom lip and purring with lusty moans.
She gazed down at him with sated eyes. His body tightened, and the base of his cock tensed and prepared for release. He met her gaze, let out a primal growl, and lost himself in the depth of her blue eyes and in her tight, wet heat gripping him like a vice.
He took a breath and ran his fingertips along the length of her belly. He slid them down to squeeze her thighs, pressed flush against his.
Em scanned the room. A half-painted room. A half-constructed crib. And the floor, awash with tiny pillows and creamy white bedding.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, sitting up, but not breaking their connection.
A worried look crossed her sex-flushed face. “We don’t have much time.”
Em’s mother was coming in from Australia to attend the twenty-week ultrasound where they were hoping they would find out the sex of the baby.
“It’s a busy life being an internet sensation,” he teased.
She gazed at the ceiling. “We need to change something with the Shostakovich remix. I just can’t put my finger on it yet.”
He smiled. In a matter of weeks, they had amassed thousands of followers online. There was quite an appetite for classical pieces remixed with modern electronic elements, and the world had fallen in love with the entrancing redheaded violinist at the center of each remix.
Em reclined on her side. “Are the guys coming over?”
“They should be here any second. I wanted to show them the finished carriage house, then bribe them with beer to help me put together the rest of the nursery.”
She kissed his neck. “Good plan.”
They had decided to pop the top of the carriage house and build a studio apartment on the second floor for when Em’s mother came to visit.
Em ran her hand over his chest and let her fingertips travel south toward his cock. “You smell so good.”
He smiled. He fucking loved her sex-fueled pregnancy hormones.
A knock on the front door stopped her hand’s descent.
“The guys are here,” Em said with a sigh. “I should probably put on more than just pearls.”
“I’m sure I could find a potato sack that could work.” He’d become more protective of her over the last few weeks. He blamed it on whatever was the male equivalent of pregnancy hormones. If another man even glanced Em’s way, he found himself ready to pounce on the unsuspecting guy.
Em threw him a dubious glance and padded into their bedroom. Along with finishing out the carriage house, they’d had the staircase professionally rebuilt and remode
led the master bedroom.
The Foursquare would always be his childhood home. But with Em making it her home now, the energy in the house had shifted. The Foursquare wasn’t the place he was forced to live. It was the place he chose to live, and he couldn’t think of a better place to start his family.
Michael made sure the door to the bedroom was closed, grabbed a hat, and made his way to answer the door.
“What the hell’s going on in there?” Sam asked.
Nick mouthed, “Holy shit, dude.”
Michael joined the guys on the porch. “Don’t let anyone tell you pregnancy is the pits, boys,” Michael said, pulling the ball cap over his tangle of ruffled hair. “I may be making two a.m. trips to Pete’s Organic Grocer for ice cream, bananas, bacon—”
Nick and Sam grimaced in unison.
“But, it certainly has its perks,” Michael finished, grinning like an idiot and not giving one single fuck.
“You and Em are the last hope for the ginger race. Science says we’re a dying breed. So, by all means, go make all the redheaded babies you two possibly can!” Sam added with a playful shove.
Michael shook his head and laughed.
Nick gestured to Em’s Foursquare. “Have the new owners moved in yet? You know, into the Foursquare you didn’t sell to me.”
They hadn’t even needed to put the house on the market. Mrs. G, the beloved retired Langley Park Elementary school teacher and current office manager for Ben Fisher’s architecture firm, had bought the home.
From a legal standpoint, it was a creative purchase. Mrs. G had paid for the Foursquare with funds from a trust set up for her goddaughter to which she was the executor. Mrs. G explained that her goddaughter was engaged in a “messy” breakup and needed to act with discretion. Had it been anyone other than Mrs. G, Michael would have been wary of the circumstances. But he’d known Mrs. G his entire life. If her goddaughter needed a home, he was happy to oblige.
“Dude,” Sam said with mock surprise. “You don’t like crashing at my place?”
“You know I appreciate your hospitality, buddy,” Nick said with a grin. “But now that I’m going to be in Langley Park permanently, I need to find a place that doesn’t include waking up to you singing, ‘Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’.”
The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5) Page 50
