Ultimate Sins (6 page)

Oh, God, how she loved him.

She loved him until the knowledge of what he could do to her, what he was already doing to her, sliced at her soul like a dull knife. The pain caused her stomach to pitch, the coffee she had drank earlier churning in it.

“I can't…” She couldn't survive this.

She couldn't survive his pain, the agony of his knowledge that a man who had once claimed to be his friend had all but destroyed his and his cousins' lives.

She couldn't survive knowing what she had come from, whose genes she shared and what the monster who had helped create her had actually done.

She could feel the blood on her own flesh now, the iron bite of it in her mouth, gagging her.

“Amelia.” The rage was gone now. He reached for her again as she tore away from him, unable to bear the agony resonating through her a moment more.

The thought of him touching her, of him taking her, of staring into his eyes and knowing she was judged by the actions of her father had her heart ready to explode, her mind racing in terror.

She couldn't let him do this, to her, or to himself. The world would soon know who had terrorized the Callahan cousins. Everyone would know, and when Crowe had to face her, when his disgust with her could no longer be hidden, it would kill her.

“Don't you walk away from me again, damn you!”

His curse forced her to acknowledge the fact that she was moving. Turning, she raced from her bedroom, down the hallway, desperate now to escape the house.

It was cold outside, the brutal mountain air carrying the certainty of snow, but she didn't pause, didn't think of what she was racing into. Only what she was desperate to escape.

He was so close. She could feel him as she neared the front door.

Reaching out for it, her fingers within inches of the knob, she was suddenly grabbed, swung around, and forced against the door.

“Let me go!” Amelia screamed as he pulled her against his harder body, one hand burying in the hair at the back of her head and angling her head back until he could stare into her eyes.

“The hell I will.” Releasing her hair, he gripped both arms and lifted her to the tips of her toes. He glared down at her, fury pulling his lips back from his teeth in a silent snarl. “I want him dead, Amelia. Fucking dead. And you'll help me draw him out. Whether you want to or not.” He gave her a hard, furious shake. “Do you fucking hear me? You will help me.”

“And what makes you think I can help you?” she screamed out, the pain destroying her. Yet somehow she had a feeling she knew exactly how he expected her to help him.

“Destroying our women seems to be his favorite sport. How do you think he's going to handle it when he thinks his daughter has become my woman?” Pushing away from her, Crowe flexed his fingers, fighting to ignore the need to touch her again, to feel her silken flesh against his fingertips.

He swore he could feel the heated warmth of her flesh, even in his dreams. Swore his fingertips ached with the need to touch her when he awoke deep in the night searching for her warmth.

“You would do that to me?” The betrayal in her eyes slapped at his conscience, but strangely, her voice lacked any hint of the anger he'd been prepared to deal with.

Still, her soft turquoise eyes stared back at him with bruised betrayal.

Betrayal?

How had he betrayed her?

All his life he'd dealt with her father's betrayal and had never known where it originated. He'd had no idea Wayne Sorenson was the monster stalking his family.

But Amelia hadn't known, either.

Hell, he knew she hadn't known. He knew she'd had no part in it, but the rage burning inside his soul was like an entity all its own, its only ability that of striking out at one of the few people he knew would always forgive him.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't use any means necessary to achieve not just her future safety but also the safety of his cousins and their wives and children.

“I would demand this of the fucking Queen of England if it meant ending Wayne Sorenson's reign of terror over my family, Amelia. If that hurts your feelings, then by God I'll apologize once I see his ass six feet under.”

He watched as she turned slowly away from him, the weariness in her expression punching him in the gut. Because he knew it was his fault. He had put that look in her eyes, and he hated himself for it.

What the fuck was he doing, not just to her, but to himself as well?

That bastard had all but destroyed him over the years, but that was no excuse for what Crowe was doing to her. For hurting the innocent sweetness that had always been such a part of his fairy-girl.

“Very well,” she said softly, her back still to him. “I'll play the game.” But when she turned around, the pain that had filled her eyes was gone. The weariness pushed away. Staring back at him was just … emptiness.

An emptiness he swore he'd see replaced, soon, with heat.

As soon as Wayne was dead.

“I won't let him hurt you again, Amelia,” he vowed. That vow was all he had left to give her until the bastard was out of both their lives.

*   *   *

“I swear, I'll never let him hurt you again.”

Somewhere inside her soul a scream was echoing. Her entire spirit felt wounded, and Amelia had no idea how to make the pain stop.

“You didn't let him hurt me the first time,” she said, her voice distant. “That was my choice, Crowe. Just as it's my choice this time. Remember that.”

As his eyes began to narrow on her she turned away from him and slowly opened the front door.

She was exhausted. It took everything she had just to survive this chaotic storm of anger, pain, and memories. She couldn't deal with him, couldn't deal with the guilt and hunger he added.

“You should leave now.” He had to leave, before she completely shamed herself and begged him, pleaded with him—

“Amelia.” The warning tone of his voice had her back and shoulders straightening.

“You will leave. Now. I said I'd play the game, Crowe. But only the game. Once you've decided the rules, then come find me. Until then, get the hell out of my life.”

She didn't like the smile that curled his lips or the blatant promise that filled his gaze.

“I'll do that, for tonight.” She had a feeling his agreement had very little to do with her demand. “Be ready tomorrow, sugar elf. Because bright and early, you'll have the rules. But once this game is over, all bets are off.”

Without explaining the statement he left the house.

The second he cleared the door, Amelia closed it behind him, locked it firmly, and set the alarm.

Moving hurt, but she forced herself up the stairs to the balcony. Stepping outside she collected the key she'd always left hidden for Crowe before stepping back into her room and locking the door behind her.

She'd tried.

She'd tried so hard to ensure that Wayne didn't carry out his threat to have Crowe arrested and imprisoned when he'd learned she'd helped Crowe destroy the files seven summers before. At the same time, she'd placed herself in danger more times than she could count by ensuring he could never again build another case against the Callahans. And all the while, she'd lived with the horrifying fear that Wayne or, God forbid, the monster trying to destroy the Callahans, would learn her greatest secret.

Instead, she had begun to suspect the most horrific evil she could have imagined. And it had all begun with the lie she had overhead Wayne telling Archer Tobias. The lie that he had no personal involvement with Amory Wyatt.

Six days later she learned the truth of the monster he was.

Amelia had begun following her father the night she'd overheard him deny knowing anything more about Amory than his identity. That night, she'd waited and watched as Amory slipped into the house, then she'd tried to follow them after they left.

She'd tracked their movements in a journal and took pictures with the small field camera she'd bought.

She had gone to the scenes where many of the young women who had been murdered over the years had been found, and she'd stolen and copied files of the investigations from the sheriff's and county attorney's offices.

But she had no more than her own gut-wrenching fear and suspicion.

She hadn't had any evidence. All she was the knowledge Wayne had lied about his whereabouts the night Katy Winslow had been killed.

He hadn't been at the house that night, and he hadn't been ill as he'd told the sheriff when he was asked why he hadn't answered his cell phone that night.

Wayne had claimed he had taken cold medicine and hadn't heard the phone.

Somehow, though, he'd known she was following him. That she was trying to find even the smallest kernel of evidence that supported her suspicions.

How had he known what she was doing?

Was it the look on her face when he'd walked into her room and her head had jerked up from the computer?

Had she looked as terrified as she felt when she looked up the stories of the young women whose deaths were attributed to the Slasher?

Or had he been watching her as she had been watching him?

Whichever, he'd paused, staring at her, then smiled with chilling evil. “Ah, Amelia,” he'd sighed. “And here I'd hoped to spare you.”

Amelia had to cover her lips with her hands to hold back a sob as she fought against the memories of that night.

She didn't want to remember. She didn't want to relive the hell she had visited until Amory Wyatt had carried her from the cabin and drove her to that mountain clearing below Crowe's cabin.

She didn't want to remember.

And now Crowe was making her remember. Even worse, he was making her agree to walk through hell for him again rather than running for the freedom she'd dreamed of.

A freedom she knew she'd never realize until Wayne was dead.

Yeah, she would play the game. And she would even play by his rules, if possible.

And when it was done, she wondered, would she be free of the past, and the memories? Would she be free of them or would she only create another nightmare she didn't want to face when morning came?

Amelia had a feeling she was only going to create another nightmare.

Especially if Wayne had his way. Or if—God forbid—he learned the one secret she would give her life to keep hidden away just a little longer.

Most especially if Wayne ever learned what she had hidden from him.

 

CHAPTER 2

By God, he was going to kill her.

He should have killed her when he had the chance. Before she had done this to him.

Before Amelia had betrayed him.

Wayne Sorenson leaned forward, his arms braced against his stomach as panic rushed through his system and threatened to send him into a furious rage.

All his dreams were shattered.

Lifetimes, generations of searching, and he had lost it all.

He watched as the cavern beneath Crowe Mountain was breached, the artificial wall his ancestor had created to hide the legacy he and his son had amassed over the years turned to brittle stone and dust. And inside, a fortune of gold, jewels, and priceless artifacts gleamed dully beneath the cameras' light.

Found.

A week after Wayne's partner and then his daughter had betrayed him, and now, the Callahans had it all. They'd taken everything.

His dreams.

The dreams of Clavern Mulrooney's direct descendants had fallen into the hands of the hated Callahans. The descendants of the bastards who had stolen the land and murdered the captain and his son before their fortune could be reclaimed.

Where was the fairness in this?

“Ms. Sorenson, do you have a statement? Your father hasn't been found yet, nor has his partner. Do you think they're watching?” A whimper escaped Wayne's lips at the journalists' excited questions as he watched the attention shift from the fortune to those watching the revelation.

His precious daughter.

She stared back at the cameras, satisfaction gleaming in her turquoise gaze as she addressed the journalists.

“Wayne's watching,” she said with a tight smile as she stared back at him through the television screen. “He won't be able to help himself. And I hope he knows this ends it. It's over, Wayne,” she stated softly. “And you lost.”

The camera turned from her to one of the journalists who somberly nodded as he faced the camera's eye once again and gestured back to the once hidden cave with a jerk of his head. “The treasure, as per an agreement with the state of Colorado as well as the federal government, will be split with fifty percent going to the Callahans for the generations of persecution by Wayne Sorenson and his ancestors. The Callahans will place the treasure in a museum that will be created on the coming resort property Avalanche, which will be overseen by the Callahan family. The other fifty percent will be auctioned off to benefit the families of the young women murdered by Wayne Sorenson and his partners, Thomas Jones, Lowry Berry, and Amory Wyatt…” Excitement suddenly transformed the journalist's expression. “And here's the spokesperson for the Callahan family, Crowe Callahan. Mr. Callahan.” Microphones were suddenly thrust into Crowe's face as more than one journalist now vied for position. “Mr. Callahan, do you have a statement? What would you tell Wayne Sorenson if he were here at the moment?”

Wayne watched as Crowe reached out and drew Amelia to him. Lights were suddenly exploding as Amelia turned her face into his broad chest.

“What would Sorenson think of your relationship with his daughter?”

“Mr. Callahan, can you verify the rumors of a relationship with Ms. Sorenson stretching back to the summer she graduated from high school?”

“Mr. Callahan, can you comment on the rumors of Sorenson's murder of his daughter's ex-husband?”

The questions were flying, and all the while, Crowe stared back into the camera with an expression that had a scream building in Wayne's throat.