Authors: Toni Anderson
Chapter
Twenty
__________________
S
he screamed as he cut off
her pants and left her lying naked on the bed like a damn pig waiting for
butchery. She trembled with fear. Her carefully choreographed fate was spelled
out in the monster’s eyes.
He smiled.
Fury blinded her.
Without him seeing, she’d managed
to loosen one wrist from the bindings. The monster with the knife paced a few
feet from where she lay, muttering. And she’d loosened one lousy wrist.
She was going to be sick.
Lightning flashed and held for a
few seconds before thunder rolled and the night went black.
She watched the knife. Him
constantly squeezing and stroking it. Revulsion and terror warred inside, but
mainly she was pissed.
The mattress sank as he climbed
over the end of the bed and she wished to God she’d freed a leg so she could
kick him in the face.
Her friend Elizabeth had been
raped.
That idea terrified her even though
he hadn’t raped the other victims. Ugh, her stomach roiled. Finally she had to
accept she was a victim. Josephine squeezed her eyes shut and tried to keep her
knees close together, remembering her shattered friend the night after Andrew
DeLattio had finished with her. Well, Andrew DeLattio had gotten his and this
bastard would get his too.
What had Elizabeth said?
Fingers gripped her knees and yanked
them roughly apart. She flinched as cold metal pressed against her leg. Bit her
lip, knowing begging wouldn’t help. Rape was about domination. That’s all she
remembered and right now it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure he was
dominating her in every way.
The knife moved up her body,
scratched her soft skin in a scoured line along her abdomen. Blood welled where
the blade occasionally sank deeper. Death by a thousand cuts.
She gritted her teeth on a flinch.
“Why does it turn you on so much?”
His eyes glittered, his voice
hoarse. “It’s the only thing that turns me on.”
“Not sex itself?”
He flinched.
“Have you ever had sex?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Do you even have a dick?”
His lips pulled back, madness in
his eyes. “Is that what you want? Me to fuck you? Are you nothing but a dirty
whore like your bitch of a mother?”
She slammed the base of her palm
into his nose the way Elizabeth had taught her. He screamed and reared back.
She tried to free her other wrist but he was back, lunging at her. She grabbed
for his knife hand, desperate to keep it away from her body. Knowing she wasn’t
strong enough. Knowing he would kill her but unwilling to lie silent like a
doll as he hurt her. Not this time.
He reached over and transferred the
knife to his other hand, blood pouring into his mouth and dripping onto her
bare skin. Revulsion turned her stomach but she saw excitement stir in his
expression. His hands shook.
“I wonder how long it’ll take you
to die if I stab you here?” Pain exploded like a firework as he plunged the
knife deep into her shoulder. She arched off the bed as agony flashed through
her body, tore through her brain.
It hurt so freakin’ bad she was
definitely going to die. Blood flowed from her body in a hot wet rush. Thoughts
of Marsh invaded her, calmed her. She loved him. And he loved her. She’d gotten
one thing right. She knew that now.
Now that it was too late.
She felt herself zoning out into a
much better place. Maybe one day Marsh would get over her and meet someone
else. Someone to give his mother those grandchildren she craved. It was a pity
it couldn’t be her.
He slapped her cheek. “You’re not
slipping away that easily.”
She spat at him and it landed smack
on his lips.
Fury burned in his eyes and he
raised the knife as if to finish this thing once and for all. Finally.
An explosion jerked him away from
her. A warm spray of blood hit her face before he dropped onto the hard wooden
floor.
Relief was so profound she almost
stopped breathing.
“FBI. Put down your weapon or I’ll
shoot.” Marsh walked across the room, his gun in a two-fisted grip. He didn’t
look at her as he walked around the end of the bed to the monster bleeding out
on the floor.
A sound gurgled in the monster’s
throat. It sounded a lot like ‘
Help
.’
“Is he still alive?” Josie whispered.
“Not for long.” Marsh told her,
ignoring the injured man as he undid her bonds. “Are you okay?”
Josie remembered she was stark
naked, her shoulder bleeding like crazy. The naked part didn’t matter right
now. Her voice was high pitched and frightened. “He drugged me with something,
but the only damage is the cuts you see.”
Marsh’s eyes flicked nervously over
the stab wound in her shoulder. It was a little bit more than a cut, but she
wasn’t going to think about it that way. She did not intend to die. Not now.
The guy on the floor groaned again. Her gaze flashed to the edge of the bed.
Dancer cuffed him. “He’s going to
bleed out long before the ambulance gets here.” The grim satisfaction on his
face told its own story. So many people had suffered so much at this man’s
hands.
“I hope so.” She wanted him dead.
“Even if he lives he’ll never hurt
you again,” Marsh told her, freeing her other wrist. For once she believed him.
“I, for one, wouldn’t mind him paying for his crimes.”
Finally she was free but too weak
to lift her arms. Everything already hurt. “How did you find me?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“How’s Vince?”
Marsh touched her hair and kissed
her brow. “He’ll live. You will too.” He ripped off his t-shirt and padded it
hard against her shoulder.
Crap!
She wanted to touch his face but didn’t
have the strength. He tugged the sheet around her and lifted her in his arms.
“Let’s go.”
“I’ll watch him until the locals
turn up,” said Dancer. His eyes looked tired and bleak. Whatever he saw in
Marsh’s expression made him say, “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid. I’m
happy to watch him suffer.”
Marsh gathered her against his
chest and she felt safe and secure, but her shoulder screamed with pain, and
her head felt like it was floating two feet away. “I’ve got you. We need to get
to a hospital.” He strode out of the room and down the stairs, each step
jarring and making her grit her teeth against the pain.
Love and tenderness mixed with
stark fear in his eyes.
“I’m not going to die, Marsh. I’ve
got too much to live for.” She’d survived. She was bleeding and battered, but
she’d left that dark ugly place and gone instead to a place filled with hope.
“I love you,” she admitted, free of the fear that had stalked her life. Not
just the killer who lay upstairs bleeding, but the fear of getting close,
getting hurt.
She needed to
live
.
He squeezed her harder. “I love you
too.”
She could hear the sound of the
surf, and something else. A deep thrum. And a fierce blast of wind and sand.
She pressed her face into his chest. Marsh tucked the sheet tightly around her
body and then hugged her hard against him. “Ever been in a helicopter before?”
“No, and I hate flying,” she
admitted through gritted teeth. Pain radiated through her body in a single
throbbing pulse. Shivers raced over her as a cold wind pierced the thin shroud
covering her.
She was jostled and jarred and then
laid flat across two seats. She felt that weightless sensation as they took off
but she couldn’t enjoy it. Strong warm fingers gripped her hand, then pressed
hard against the wound in her shoulder. At first it was agony before slowly
easing into numbness. She clung to those fingers, clung to the pain. She wasn’t
losing the battle now. Marsh had beaten the Blade Hunter and she’d faced her
demon and survived. She drifted into unconsciousness as the loud throb of
rotors pounded through her blood.
***
She woke up in the
hospital, her shoulder tightly bandaged and a dull ache radiating all the way
up to her neck and down her back. Marsh gripped her hand so firmly her fingers
tingled, but she liked it.
“Hey.” Her voice cracked. “Can I get
a drink, please?”
Marsh leaned over and poured her a
glass of water from a jug beside the bed. He raised her up with the automatic
control and kissed her gently.
Placing the straw between her lips
she took a sip of water and relished the cold freshness that cooled her throat.
His hazel eyes locked onto hers. “How do you feel?”
“Alive?” She laughed and almost
sobbed as she remembered her ordeal. “Did he make it?”
He shook his head. Relief swept
through her in a massive wave.
Good
. He was dead and that was good.
Marsh was smudged with dirt and
blood, and wearing running shoes with dress pants and a dark green scrub top.
Not the smart, dapper Marshall
Hayes she was used to.
“Where’s Dancer?”
“Checking on Vince.”
“Is he going to be all right?”
Marsh nodded and took the cup from
her.
She closed her eyes in relief and
sagged against the pillow. “I thought Vince was dead when that car hit him.”
Tears ran down her cheeks and unable to stop them she drew up her knees and
sank her face into the pillow. The bed sagged as Marsh gathered her in his
arms. He pulled a handkerchief out of nowhere and she laughed, but then sobered
at his expression.
“What is it?” she asked.
“There’s something I never told you
and you’re not going to like it…”
Everything inside her froze. Maybe
he didn’t really care for her. Maybe he’d fed her a line as part of the job.
Lines of tension radiated around
his eyes and mouth. “You asked me how I found you, at the beach house?”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“Yeah, it does.” He scrubbed a hand
over his hair then looked her in the eye. “First of all I need you to know that
I do love you. Nothing will ever change that. God knows, I tried.”
“Okay, I think.” She laughed
nervously. Movement hurt but he loved her and nothing could be as terrible as
losing Marsh again. Whatever he had to say couldn’t be that bad.
“When I tracked you down back in
April and drugged you, I, er, did something else.” He stood and started pacing,
not at all the self-assured man she’d come to know. “I implanted a tiny
transmitter into your shoulder. It’s still active and that’s how we were able
to pin down your location so quickly.”
“What?” She sat up a little
straighter, frowned.
Why would he do that?
It explained the itch she
sometimes felt there. Then she got it.
No way.
“You always planned for
me to get away from your cabin in Vermont so I could lead you to Elizabeth.”
His eyes told her she was right. Her jaw dropped. “All that time I felt guilty
for drugging and deceiving you, and yet my escaping was part of the plan all
along.” Anger started to build, hot and furious in her gut.
“Yes and no.” He held up his hand,
palm out. “You drugging me and us having sex were never part of the plan. Me
waking up naked, handcuffed to a bedpost was never part of the plan. Leaving
you unprotected for any length of time was
never
part of the plan.” His
voice rose, words vehement.
Memories of being grabbed out of
her rental car in Montana bombarded her. Andrew DeLattio’s hands stroking her
skin as if he could do with her as he pleased. She’d thought he was going to
murder her. A bullet in the head after he’d finished using her body for his own
gratification.
Marsh’s hazel eyes were shockingly
dark against pale skin. “If I’d have known DeLattio was going to escape custody
and get hold of you, I’d never have let you leave.” He was trembling. Hands
fisted as if he tried to hold everything inside.
All the emotion of the past days
and months swirled in her mind, but the biggest feeling that overtook her was
relief and gratitude that Marsh was here with her now. That they’d found their
way back to one another despite everything they’d gone through. Sure she was
angry but she’d get over it, especially if it stopped her feeling guilty about
what she’d done to him six months ago.
“Is it still in there?” She looked
toward her shoulder but it throbbed too painfully to examine.
He shook his head, pulled something
miniscule out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I asked the surgeon to
remove it.” He swallowed audibly. “Can you forgive me?”
She examined the tiny capsule in
her palm. “Considering it ended up saving my life I think I can forgive you.
But next time you want to stalk me just track the cell phone, okay?”
He leaned over and kissed her,
stroking her hair off her cheek. “There better not be a next time. You took a
decade off my life last night; I want to spend all the days I have left being
with you.”
“Did I remember to thank you? For
saving me?”
He leaned his forehead against
hers. “All part of the service.” He kissed her and she wished she wasn’t lying
in a hospital bed. After a moment he pulled away. “I better go see how Vince is
doing.”
She struggled out of his grip,
swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
His voice was a growl that told her not to push it.
She stood and wobbled. “I’m fine,
Marsh. Get me some clothes. I’m going to see Vince too.”
“No.” His raised voice had the
nurses looking over and then striding toward them.
She planted her fist on her hip. “I
need to do this. Please, don’t try to stop me.” The nurses bustled around her,
clucking and trying to make her sit while they checked her vitals. “Go find me
something to wear.” She flapped her hospital gown at him, revealing a lot of
flesh. “Scrubs, pants, anything. I’m going to visit Vince if I have to walk naked
through the halls.”