Rainie gaped at his reflection, totally forgetting to steer.
“Watch out, you stupid bitch! Pay attention to where you’re going!”
She jerked her gaze back to the windshield and cranked the wheel sharply left to avoid a collision with the rear bumper of a Cadillac.
With his free hand, Peter grabbed her hair. His fingers seemed to stick in the strands. The cruel clench of his fist brought tears to her eyes.
Gloves.
He was wearing latex gloves. In the rearview mirror, she glimpsed the maniacal leer that had haunted her dreams for so many months. She was right back where she’d started, she thought dizzily, seeing his reflection, only now he had no interest in playing sadistic sex games. Oh, no. He’d come here to kill her. She saw it in his eyes.
So why didn’t he just slit her throat and get it over with? The thought made her whole body quiver, and for a horrible moment, she almost lost control of her bladder. She didn’t want to die. She wanted none of this to be real so she could go back to Parker. Her divorce was final, damn it. She was
free.
They were taking marriage preparation classes and planning a future together. She yearned to have his babies, see them grow up, and then sit on the porch swing with him someday as an old woman. It couldn’t end like this. It simply
couldn’t.
Only it was. If wishing Peter away had worked, she would have been rid of him a long time ago. Terror. That was Peter’s specialty, evoking terror.
Calm, stay calm.
She had to
think.
With the knife blade at her throat, staying calm was a tall order.
Parker.
Rainie envisioned his dark face, so different in every way from that of the man behind her. She remembered the kisses they’d shared a short while ago. Now she might never get to experience a Halloween with him. No getting tipsy on mulled wine. No opening the door to pass out candy to cute little kids in goblin costumes. No ending the evening in each other’s arms and finding out what cowboy apple bobbing was all about.
A wave of intense sadness washed through Rainie. And then anger took its place. She hated Peter Danning. No,
hate
was too mild a word. She
despised
him. He might kill her. Correction, he would kill her if he had his way. But she’d be damned if she would go out sniveling and begging for her life. He had reduced her to that once.
Never again.
If she had to die, she would go out as Rainie Hall, Marcus Hall’s gutsy daughter and the love of Parker Harrigan’s life. This vile, twisted, vicious excuse for a man could destroy her physically, but she would never again allow him to obliterate her sense of self.
Rainie drove the Mazda to the end of the parking corridor and pressed on the brake. Peter jerked hard on her hair. “Did I tell you to stop? Willful as always, I see.”
Rainie stiffened against the pain. “Which direction should I go?” She met his glittering gaze in the mirror. “Going straight is out, unless you want to collide with those parked cars.”
He pulled harder on her hair and pressed the flat of the blade more firmly against her larynx.
“Go ahead,” Rainie pushed out, her voice twanging from the pressure. She would
not
give him the satisfaction of knowing how frightened she was. “Get it over with. Kill me, Peter. I’d rather die than breathe the same air you are.”
“Shut up and drive.”
“Where to? I’m not a mind reader.”
“That pesthole you live in.” He laughed softly. “I gave you
everything
, a palatial home, beautiful clothing, and expensive jewelry. You had it
all
, and you threw it away for a low-rent shack and an uneducated farmer.”
Rainie thought of Parker—the gentle brush of his knuckles over her cheek, the love in his eyes every time he looked at her. To think that she might never see him again made her heart hurt.
“What has he given you?” Peter demanded. “Name me one damned thing. Look at this junk heap you’re driving. Look at your clothes. A homeless person dresses better than you do.”
Rainie remained silent, refusing to engage in a stupid debate about the finest man she’d ever known. It would be a waste of breath. A slimeball like Peter was incapable of appreciating all the many gifts she’d received from Parker. Restoring her pride and self-confidence. Loving her with no strings attached. Filling her life with laughter and joy and contentment and peace. As the thoughts ran through Rainie’s mind, she felt a sob welling in her throat, because she should have said all those things to Parker and couldn’t remember if she had.
“Drive,” Peter ordered. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about the folly of your choices when we reach your house.”
Rainie hung a right to take the bypass. The traffic flowed faster on the motorway. She concentrated for a moment on breathing—slow and deep. When her head cleared a little, she was better able to focus.
Take control of the situation
, Parker had told her at least a thousand times. Only how? With the seat between her and Peter, all the self-defense moves that Parker had taught her were useless. Maybe, if she could accelerate to a high enough speed on the bypass, there would come a moment when Peter drew the knife from her throat. All she needed was a millisecond. If the opportunity came, she’d slam on the brakes and put his sorry ass through the windshield. He wore no safety belt, and the old Mazda had no air bags. As a plan of action, it wasn’t much, but for the moment, it was all she had.
As she merged with the bypass traffic and gained speed, Rainie decided to do her best to piss him off, her hope being that he would react true to form by ranting and waving his hands. If he got mad and lowered the knife for just an instant, she might have a fighting chance.
“You know, it’s funny,” she said with a forced laugh. “No, actually, it’s
hysterical
. You really believe that the life you gave me was first-rate.”
“It was better than what you’ve got now, that’s for damned sure.”
“Wrong!” Rainie wasn’t worried about his slitting her throat now. They were doing fifty-five, and Peter would never put his own safety at risk. “I’m with a
real
man. Unlike you, he knows how to love a woman, and he never has any trouble getting it up.”
He leaned forward to breathe heavily in her ear without actually touching her. “I’m stiff as a rod right now.”
“Only because you think I’m afraid. Inflicting fear and pain are the only things that turn you on. Well, news flash, Peter: I’m not scared of you anymore.”
His only response was to laugh. “Just drive, Lorraina. We’ll see how brave you are when we’re alone in that hovel you call a home.”
Anxious to join Rainie at her place for an evening of Halloween festivities, Parker had decided to leave early. He was smiling as he closed up the office. Helping her to make cookies would be fun, especially if he could talk her into wearing the black caftan with nothing on underneath.
Oh, yeah.
Rainie and mulled wine. What a combination. He needed to stop by the house for a quick shower and to grab his camera. Their first Halloween together. Rainie would get a kick out of taking pictures of the little kids who came to the door.
Parker had just left the arena when his cell phone started playing a rumba, Clint’s special ring tone. He jerked the apparatus from his belt and snapped it open. “Is Rainie all right?”
“I don’t know.” Clint sounded out of breath. “My damn truck broke down at the bottom of Haymaker Hill; then I couldn’t pick up a signal. I just ran all the way to the summit.”
“So no one’s tailin’ her?” Parker’s heart jerked with fear. “Damn it, Clint. What the hell’s wrong with your truck?”
“I don’t know. It started sputtering and then died on me. I couldn’t get it going again.”
Parker had a very bad feeling about this. Clint’s ranch mechanic kept all of the Circle H vehicles in perfect running condition. It made no sense that the truck would suddenly die.
Oh, God.
Rainie was unprotected. He needed to call her and tell her to stay inside the supermarket until he could get there.
Rainie prayed with everything she had all the way to her house, but Peter never once drew the knife from her throat. As she parked in the driveway and cut the engine, her cell phone suddenly began to play “The Way We Were,” a ring tone that she had assigned exclusively to Parker.
“That’ll either be lover boy or his brother, calling to tell you that your watchdog of the day had car trouble and couldn’t follow you into town.” Peter leered at her in the mirror. “Everything is going exactly as planned except that I expected him to call sooner. Answer, put him on speaker, and then tell him you’re already home and everything’s fine. Be convincing, or I’ll slit your throat.”
Unable to turn her head because of the knife, Rainie groped in her purse for her cell, flipped it open with one hand, pressed the speaker icon, and put the phone to her ear. “Hi.”
Parker’s voice came over the line, taut with concern. “Sweetheart, Clint’s truck crapped out on him at the bottom of Haymaker Hill. He didn’t follow you into town. I’m fixin’ to leave right now. Just stay inside the store until I get there. All right?”
“I’ve already finished my shopping and left the market.” She met Peter’s glittering gaze in the mirror. “No worries, though. Everything’s fine. I just got home and I’ll lock up tight as soon as I get inside.”
“Promise? I’m a little worried. Clint’s mechanic is top-notch. It seems odd that the truck suddenly broke down that way.”
Peter clenched his fist in her hair again. Some things never changed. He still delighted in inflicting pain.
“I’m fine, Parker. Really.”
“You’re sure? Did you watch in your rearview mirror to make sure no one was followin’ you?”
Rainie yearned to cry out,
No, because he’s right here in the car with me!
But she knew Peter would kill her if she dared. So instead she put a smile in her voice and said, “I’m perfectly fine, Parker. I can’t wait to go inside, put on the cider, and start making the fudge.”
“Fudge? Yum. That’s my favorite, a lot better than sugar cookies.”
Please, Parker, pick up on that,
Rainie thought frantically.
I’m supposed to make mulled wine, not cider, and Halloween cookies, not fudge. Who makes fudge for Halloween?
“Well,” he said, “if you’re sure you’re fine, I’ll stop by my place to grab my camera and a quick shower before I leave then. I smell like horses and wintergreen liniment.”
No, no, no. You’re not getting it, Parker. Think. I’ve been planning to decorate cookies for days.
“All right,” she forced out. “I’m going to freshen up, too. I’m all sticky from racing around the store. I’d like a nice bath before I put on my leotard and tutu.”
“You’re dressin’ up as a ballerina instead of a witch?”
In the rearview mirror, Peter’s face contorted with rage, and he pressed the knife harder against Rainie’s throat. His message was clear: He was onto her.
Thinking quickly, Rainie said, “I have both costumes and changed my mind. A ballerina is a lot sexier than a witch.”
“You’ve got that right.” Parker whistled under his breath. “I can’t wait to see you in a tutu. Forget the fudge. I’ll have you instead.”
Tears burned in Rainie’s eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Have a good look-see around the neighborhood before you get out of the car. All right? If you notice anything suspicious, just lock the car doors, call me back, and sit tight until I get there.”
“All right,” Rainie agreed.
“I love you.”
The tears spilled out onto Rainie’s cheeks. “I love you, too, Parker. You’ll never know just how much.”
“Call me once you’re safely inside the house. Don’t forget, or I’ll get a speedin’ ticket tryin’ to get there.”
“All right,” Rainie agreed.
After Parker broke the connection, Peter jerked hard on Rainie’s hair again. “Home, sweet home.”
She stared through the sun-streaked windshield at her front door. Home, Peter called it, but he was so very wrong about that. The word no longer conjured images of a place in her mind. Her true home, her only home now, was in the circle of Parker’s arms. She loved him so much. They had their whole lives left to live. She couldn’t allow Peter to rob her of that.
Grabbing frantically for composure, she said, “If you keep that knife at my throat as we walk to the porch, one of my neighbors may notice and call the cops.”
“I’ll take my chances.” He threw open the rear door. “One wrong move, and I’ll slit your jugular and leave you to drown in your own blood. Got it?”
Chin lifted to an awkward angle to accommodate the knife blade, Rainie collected her purse, the phone, and her keys, and then opened her own door to carefully exit the car, her body poised for action the moment he lowered the weapon. Only instead he reached over the rear door to shift the knife into his left hand before she fully gained her feet. Pushing her ahead of him, he kicked both doors closed. Rainie felt like a bit of flotsam carried forth on a wave as they crossed the yard to her front steps.
When they reached the door, he produced a key. Rainie stared stupidly at his gloved hand as he disengaged the lock and then toed the portal open. As they moved inside, he kept the knife at her throat as he reached back to close the door and refasten the dead bolt.