Authors: Janice Kay Johnson
He risked his life without thought of cost to himself, just to make the world a better place....
Could she just go to sleep with her head on the toilet seat? For just a little while? Or did she have to puke first?
Blood cleaned up off of toilet seats.
And they weren't that expensive....
“I'm going to give you some time to think about what you've done.” Steve still stood in the doorway, so tall and strong. “And when I come back, I'll expect an apology.”
She always apologized. Why didn't he ever have to apologize? Well, she wasn't going to. Not until he did.
“And you can expect more punishment. You've been a very, very bad girl....”
The door closed. She heard a lock click.
He'd installed a key lock from the outside. She hadn't even noticed. Probably because it was just like the one on the bathroom at home.
No, her home wasn't in Las Vegas. And it didn't have bathroom locks. It had child safety locks....
That thought brought up the bile. And Meredith retched, splitting her ribs with burning pain every time a muscle moved.
When she was done, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, lay down on the cool tile floor with her head on the plush rug in front of the sink and closed her eyes.
Her day hadn't gone quite as planned. She wasn't dead and she wasn't free.
Steve was a highly skilled and trained detective. He'd won their little skirmish.
But she'd won her war.
She wasn't afraid of him anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
M
AX
HAD
BEEN
on the internet. And around the yard. He'd checked every baseboard in the house for nicks and made a list of those he really should putty and dab with some touch-up paint. He put the list on his desk.
And then went back and checked the walls for nicks.
Made a similar list.
Put it next to the one already on his desk.
He looked at the insides of the toilet tanks, making sure the plastic fittings were in good working order. And lay on his back underneath each sink. He wasn't a plumber, but a guy could tell if fittings were old and giving way. He could turn the shut-off valves and make certain they still worked.
He looked at the tile grout. Made a list of places that needed a little help. Put the list on his desk.
He emptied the trash.
And looked over the furniture, making a list of pieces and parts that could do with a spot of the furniture varnish he kept out in the shed.
The shed.
Meri had been in there. Presumably the same day she'd cleaned. He'd have known if she'd been home twice since she'd left.
Meri?
Oh...please...Meri.
He didn't know what to ask. Didn't know what she wanted. To come home to him?
To be free?
Dropping to the floor, pen and furniture list in one of the hands linked behind his head, he did a sit-up. And then another.
He lost count somewhere in the fifties.
But he didn't stop doing sit-ups.
Nope, he wasn't going to stop sitting up.
* * *
M
ERI
. M
ERI
. M
EERRRIII
....
She heard the voice. It was an angel. A man? A woman? Just an angel. She was being called home.
Meredith wanted to go home. She was ready, wasn't she?
She couldn't have Max, not with Steve still claiming ownership of her. And Steve wasn't going to let her go. She was no longer afraid.
Not afraid to die.
Home.
Bed.
A big bed. With soft sheets.
She liked the way it looked.
So she floated some more and let herself go....
* * *
M
AX
WAS
STILL
doing sit-ups when the phone rang. Grabbing it out of the breast pocket of the purple scrub shirt he'd pulled on after getting home, he pushed the answer button without breaking his rhythm.
Down. Up. He could do it one-handed.
“We've got something, Max.”
Down up. Down up.
“One of the cars...they found the only one sold that didn't match a name and address on the release forms. The company definitely has shady business practices, but they came through in the end. We have the VIN number and license plate.”
Down up. Down up.
“He paid cash, with the agreement that there'd be no paperwork other than the mandatory release form, which only requires an odometer reading. Fortunately for us, the other green car sales over the past months were legitimate, so...”
“Address?” He pushed the word out as he sat up.
“It's bogus, unfortunately, but he bragged to that old buddy of his that he had a place on the beach, right? We've had someone watching months of tape of cams on the public beaches....”
Up. “You know where he is?”
“We have the vicinity. He's been caught on camera several times at The Santa Raquel public beach. But there are hundreds of homes in the area....”
“Then you need hundreds of people knocking on doors. I'm in.”
Jumping up, he pulled on the jeans he'd exchanged for old sweat shorts sometime during the day. If she thought he was going to stay home when Meri needed him and there was something he could actually do....
“I know you are, hon,” Chantel said, her tone laced with friendly affection. “I'm just around the corner from you. Bailey's going to stay at your place and you're coming with me.”
“Okay. Good. I'm ready.”
He said the words. He was tying up his purple high-topsâbecause purple was Meri's favorite colorâas they spoke.
But he wasn't sure if he was ready.
Ready for what?
To find Meri? Bring her home?
Or to find another pool of blood?
Either way, he had to go.
* * *
M
AX
'
S
HAND
SMOOTHED
its way up her side, over a scar, lingering there to kiss the silken line.
“No,” she murmured sleepily, wanting so much more than a simple touch from him. “It represents pain,” she told him her secret. “It reminds me.”
“Which scar is it, Meri?” His whisper covered the scar and it vanished.
“You are so hot,” he said. “And I can't get enough....”
She knew the feeling. Oh, God she knew the feeling. Arching her back, Meredith met him, body to body, strength to strength, partner to partner, as his naked body entered hers.
She took him into her.
“And the two become one,” he said.
The words were beautiful. But it was the catch in his voice that stole her heart....
Oh...God...her heart....
She hurt so much and didn't want to hurt anymore. The elephant was back. He was big and mad. He'd been on the table but now he was on the floor.
And so was she.
He was going to trample her.
* * *
F
OUR
DIFFERENT
,
LARGE
neighborhoods were located directly across Highway One from the Santa Raquel beach. The two-lane highway that ran up and down the entire coast of California was the access point to some of the nicest homes in that part of the state.
Max was out of Chantel's car and off up the street before she'd pulled to a stop at the entrance of the first neighborhood. Going door to door with others who were searching and asking neighbors to help with the search. He ran into her again when she hunted him down at the end of the next street.
“Max!” She was on foot, running toward him at full speed, like a linebacker, grabbing at him as she reached him.
“What?” He pulled his arm out of her grasp. She wasn't slowing him down.
“Max.” She touched his arm again, getting his attention. And when he looked at her, she said, “They've got him, Max. Wayne just called. They've got him.” She was panting as she spoke. Out of breath. “He walked over to a cop guarding the entrance to the neighborhood and turned himself in.”
He understood every glorious word. He just couldn't believe it.
“So Meri's okay?” She'd said they had
him.
She hadn't said anything about Meri.
“We don't know.” She was catching her breath. “Now listen,” she said when he was about to head off up the road, continuing knocking on doors, searching yards....
“They were together,” she said. “We know that much. He had some crazy story about Meredith trying to kill him, but he was crying and just kept saying he was sorry. Over and over. He had blood on his hands, Max.”
The word that spewed out of his mouth wasn't one he'd ever heard growing up.
“Max...hold on. We have to stay calm,” Chantel said, giving his arm another squeeze. “We have to find her, Max.”
“Doesn't he know where she is?”
“He isn't saying, Max. Says that if he can't have her then he sure as hell isn't serving her up to you. He said that his life is over, and it's fitting that hers is, too. He said she wanted to die, and now she'll get her wish. She needs us, Max. But it's pretty clear we don't have much time. We've got extra patrols out. And the volunteer group that is already forming. We're going to find her.”
He heard the words. All of them. But his head was roaring. Like he was at the ocean. With Meri. Just the two of them.
“We have to assume she's hurt pretty bad.” Chantel didn't spare him. “There's an ambulance on the way.” Whatever else Chantel had been about to say was lost as Max ran up to the next house. And the next.
He already knew the plan. Had his orders.
Knock on doors. Ask the appropriate questions and apologize for the intrusion.
Somewhere along the way, he forgot about the apology.
His wife needed a doctor. And he was one.
He just had to get to her.
* * *
“N
O
! N
O
! N
O
! N
O
!”
“Get up Meri! Get up! You are not going to die. Not going to die. Not going to die....”
“Not going to die. Not going to die....”
Meredith choked as her dry, clogged throat worked its way around the words. “Not going to die.”
She heard a voice. Didn't recognize it as her own. But knew that it was. Repeating what the white figure in her dream had been telling her. “No. No. No. Get up. You are not going to die.” Trying to move, to figure out where she was, all she knew was that she had to get up. Something was telling her to get up.
She opened her eyes, and cringed as the light brought flashing pain to the top of her head. She was in a small room. Alone.
The pain was familiar. One she knew.
She had to get up.
And it all came flooding back to her. Steve. Her ultimatum. The beating.
She had to get up.
She was supposed to be free or dead.
Instead she was on the bathroom floor of the home Steve had bought for them. The home he'd been coming to for four years, spying on her and her family. Stalking her.
She had to get up.
He'd locked her in. He always locked her in. There was a window. Up high. Could she get to it?
She had to get up.
Meredith tried to move her tongue. Touched the tip of it to her lips. Her neck hurt. She tasted blood. And salt.
But didn't think she'd cried.
She had to get up.
There was moisture on her face. And her neck. Beneath her, everywhere. A pool of her own blood.
She had to get up.
And so she did.
All at once. Moving her arms and legs at the same time, she almost vomited again as the agonizing pain took over her entire body.
She wasn't going to last long. She knew that. Wasn't going to get far.
But she could not die in a pool of her own blood.
Didn't want to die in a bathroom.
On her hands and knees she almost crumbled. Sweat poured from her body. She was so hot. Dying.
No.
She wasn't supposed to die. Had her father told her that?
With one hand she grasped for the edge of the sink. Pulled herself up and lunged for the doorknob to hold herself up on the other side while she tried to climb on the garden tub and get to the window. She could break it by putting her fist through it.
One more cut wasn't going to matter.
Her sticky, wetâwas that bloodâhand got to the knob. But it didn't hold her steady as she'd thought it would.
As it should have.
As she'd expected.
It moved. Turned as her weight fell against it. And the door.
They moved in unison, she and that hard wooden door.
He hadn't locked it.
* * *
M
AX
HAD
NO
idea how many people cased those four neighborhoods. Dozens. Maybe more.
He didn't slow down enough to make eye contact or exchange words with anyone. He was going to find Meri.
House after house received his thundering footsteps, his brusque knock, his hurried questions and piercing gaze, and then he was gone. Off to the next.
For every house where someone didn't answer the door, he called over an officer to investigate. And then he moved on.
I will find you, Meri.
The mantra was all he knew. He remembered making the promise to her once before, in person, when she'd been having a particularly hard day.
She'd been pregnant, as he remembered it. And scared to death that Steve was close by. That he was going to come steal her away from Max.
He'd held her in his arms. Loving her for all he was worth. So certain that all they were dealing with was post-traumatic stress. A medical issue, really. Right up his alley.
He'd whispered a lot of words to her that afternoon.
She'd ask what-if and he'd have an answer.
I will find you, Meri.
He finished one street and moved to the next. And the next.
I will find you.
What he found, as he turned a corner, was a mass of people rushing down the street.
Panic consumed him. He'd seen this scene before. A street. People rushing to the scene. A pool of blood. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
And then he could. He was a doctor. If anyone was in trouble he could help. Because life was about everyone helping everyone else.
He'd heard the words from his cradle, from a mother who was older than all the other mothers, and so much wiser.
A mother who'd imparted her wisdom to her baby before he'd been old enough to form the words that would let her know that he was taking it all in. Every single word.
Into his mind and his heart. Into his soul.
With more strength than any one man could possibly have, Max tore up the street and pushed through the moving crowd to the front of the pack. He had to assess the situation to know how to help.
Breaking through the front edge of rushing people, he was only a couple of yards away from their target when he saw her.
A stumbling, bruised and bleeding woman. Arms outstretched.