Awakened (Intimate Relations) (32 page)

The attack came from behind. A large hand covered her mouth. A muscular arm snaked around her waist and lifted her off the ground. Kicking her feet, glad she was wearing the heavy hiking boots, she connected with what felt like a man’s knee. He cursed. She twisted and turned like a wild thing, spurred by panic and a fierce anger unlike anything she’d ever known. His hand was still over her mouth, but she felt the fatty part at the base of his thumb against her lips. She opened her mouth and bit down. Hard.

He cursed and pulled his hand free, but not before she tasted blood. It should have nauseated her—instead, it empowered her. He tightened his one-armed grip around her waist, but she brought her heel up between his legs—hard—and connected with soft tissue.

“Marc!” Her cry was almost drowned out by Reed’s curses, but at least her assailant had lost his grip on her when she nailed him. She ended up on her hands and knees in the dirt. Freedom was mere inches away as she scrabbled for balance, shoved herself to her feet, slipped in loose gravel and went down on one knee.

You can do this Mandy. Don’t let him win.

The pain knocked the breath from her lungs but the voice in her head gave her courage. She shoved forward again. Too late! He had a hand around her ankle and pulled, hard. She went down on her chest, her chin bouncing off the ground. She cried out as he landed on top of her, threw himself across her back, forced the air from her lungs. His arm went around her neck, tightened. He put more pressure against her throat, cutting off her air. Lights flashed behind her eyes and she thought of Marc’s mom, dead and buried all these years because this bastard had strangled her.

She was not going to die. There was no way in hell she’d ever put Marc through anything that awful. With that thought in mind, she went limp. Let him think she was unconscious. She was already close enough, but while he was gloating, she’d think of something.

*   *   *

Silently, Theo pulled in ahead of the silver Lexus—one of the benefits of driving an all-electric car. Ted was out of the vehicle in a heartbeat, weapon drawn, heart pounding. Their phones were set to vibrate, and Ted had turned off both Marc and Mandy’s phones, but he’d gotten off a call to Jerry Russo the moment they spotted what had to be Steven Reed’s car. With luck, Reed wouldn’t have heard them pull in—if he was close to Marc and Mandy, the sound of the Tesla’s tires rolling slowly over gravel on the shoulder of the road should have blended in with any ambient noise.

But how in the hell had Reed known to come here? Supposedly he’d been locked up for more than three weeks—Ted didn’t think they’d even confirmed a date to search up here at that point.

Except Marc had let his father know he suspected him of murder, had told him about Rockpile Road. Which meant that Reed probably had gone by the house in San Francisco, and when he realized no one was there, he knew exactly where to look for his son—at the same place where he’d buried Marc’s mother.

A scream cut the night. Mandy! She’d cried out for Marc, which meant Reed had to have one of them. Theo took off like a shot with Ted on his heels. They went over the locked gate and raced down the dirt road toward the kids’ impromptu campsite.

*   *   *

Marc crouched low behind a patch of deer brush. No phone, no gun, and that son of a bitch had Mandy. It was so frickin’ dark he couldn’t really tell what was going on, but there was no way in hell he was going to let Reed hurt her again.

But getting himself killed wouldn’t do either of them any good. He could barely make out the darker shadow that was his father, about halfway between Theo’s car and the portable bathroom. He was dragging Mandy, so either she was unconscious or faking it. Knowing Mandy, he hoped like hell she was faking, but it appeared his father was limping, so maybe she’d gotten in a blow of some kind.

He moved closer, staying behind whatever brush he could find until he was barely six feet from the man. His eyes had adjusted as well as they were going to, and he fingered the flashlight in his hand. It wasn’t very heavy, so it wouldn’t make much of a weapon, but it was a bright sucker. If he could get close enough to blind Reed, he might have a chance.

Except he was positive the man was armed. No way he would have come after them without a weapon. Marc moved a little closer. Reed was mumbling about something, but he couldn’t make out any intelligible words beyond the occasional curse.

Faintly, in the distance, he caught the sound of a siren. Make that multiple sirens. Were they headed this way, or maybe to a fire somewhere? Except there was no reason for anyone to be looking for them up here, and there was no way to call for help. He’d realized right after Ted and Theo left that their phones were still in the Tesla. He hadn’t told Mandy—hadn’t wanted to make her nervous.

The sirens grew closer. He wished he knew the sounds of the different sirens, which were the sheriff’s department, which ones belonged to fire, but they were definitely coming closer.

Would that make Reed nervous? Maybe not as attentive to his surroundings?

“Damn you!”

That was Mandy!

Marc grabbed the flashlight and turned it on full force, shining it directly at his father’s eyes. Reed dropped Mandy and covered his eyes with his left hand, pulled his right arm up and fired without aiming, shooting toward the light. Except Marc wasn’t there. The flashlight lay on the ground and Mandy was rolling to one side. His father fired wildly in all directions. Marc ducked down as a bullet whizzed by much too close to his ear.

Then he circled around in the opposite direction Mandy was moving as his father spun around, firing wildly. The moment Reed aimed in Mandy’s direction, Marc jumped. He tackled his father from the left and knocked him to the ground, but the bastard didn’t drop the gun. Reaching around his back, Marc got hold of his wrist and banged his arm against the rocky surface, but somehow his father twisted and managed to throw him.

Scrambling, still holding on to Reed’s wrist, it quickly turned into a matter of brute strength. Fired by fear and whatever craziness drove him, Marc’s father used his greater weight to pin Marc on his back. He wrapped his fingers across the front of Marc’s throat, squeezing the breath from his lungs as Marc struggled to hang on to his father’s gun arm.

But Reed was gaining—at least until Mandy raced back into the fight and kicked him in the side of the head. Momentarily stunned, he loosened his grip. Marc rolled free, gasping for air while Mandy went for the gun.

Reed pulled his arm out of her reach and lurched to his feet, winded, struggling to stay upright, but still hanging on to the gun in his hand. He held it and raised it slowly. “Which one first?” he asked. “Or does it really matter, since you’re both going to die?”

Mandy turned and looked at Marc, and there was so much love in her eyes. Love and courage, and anger that his father might actually win this one. That was not going to happen. Marc felt a surge of strength and shot forward from his position on the ground, barreling against his father’s knees, taking him down.

As he jumped, a light flared and a single shot rang out. The gun had been pointed at Mandy, but his father was the one on the ground. Steven Reed was not moving. Marc pushed himself away from his father’s body as Mandy threw herself against him, holding him close and crying. Kissing his face over and over. Loving on him for all she was worth.

Ted and Theo raced across the open area, both of them with weapons drawn. Ted knelt and checked for Steven Reed’s pulse, while Theo went down on his knees in the dirt and pulled Marc and Mandy into his arms, hugging them like there was no tomorrow.

“I was so afraid that bastard was going to win, but we couldn’t see to shoot. It was so damned dark until we got that bright flash. Damn, I’m so glad you kids are okay.” Theo’s voice shook, and the emotion spilled over onto Marc.

“He’s dead, Theo.” Ted helped Mandy stand and then hugged her. “You okay?”

“I am. Thank you. We had no idea you were here.”

Ted held his hand out to Marc and hauled him easily to his feet. Then he wrapped Marc in a hug as well.

“How’d you manage to see him?” Marc asked. “Was that a laser I saw, that bright flash before you fired?” He reached for Theo, took his hand and tugged.

Theo stood and brushed the dirt off his butt. “You mean that wasn’t you? I thought you turned your flashlight on him again. The first time we weren’t in position to get off a shot, and then it was too damned dark.”

The sirens stilled as the sheriff’s department cars pulled up along the road in front of the gate.

Ted was still staring at Reed’s body. “At first I thought it was my imagination. I was trying to aim at what I thought was Steve Reed, but I couldn’t see him. We could hear you guys fighting. Theo and I were both afraid to fire.”

“Until that light flared,” Theo added. “Lit him up like a strobe light, and Ted got off the shot.”

“Center of his forehead. We were a good twenty yards away, Theo. I don’t think I’ve ever made a shot that perfectly. It sort of defies logic, ya know?”

Marc stared at his father’s body. He searched inside himself for any sense of grief, for sadness at the man’s death. This was, after all, his father. He should feel something, shouldn’t he? Something other than relief that Ted had been the one to pull the trigger? Because Marc couldn’t deny that he’d thought about it, long and hard. He knew he had enough money to make his father go away—permanently—but he wasn’t a killer. Tonight though, when Steven Reed pointed his gun at Mandy, Marc’s only thought had been that the man had to die.

And Ted Robinson, one of the best men Marc knew, had been the instrument of his father’s death. It was going to take a while to come to terms with this, with the fact that he didn’t have to be on the lookout for Steven Reed ever again. With the fact he felt absolutely no remorse, no guilt at all that the man was dead. He had a feeling that lack of guilt wasn’t going to change. His father had to die. It was the only way he could ensure Mandy’s safety, that he could find justice for his mother. The only way to give her peace. She’d wanted her husband dead because she wanted her child safe.

He understood that. Better now, after the way things had happened tonight.

Abruptly, he turned away and focused on Ted and Theo. “I think I can explain the light, but neither of you are going to believe it. And it can’t possibly go in any report, but the deputies are here now, so I’ll wait and explain later. But, to put it bluntly, I believe we had a little otherworldly help.”

He tightened his grasp around Mandy and held her tight. Right now, all he really wanted to do was go back to the cottage and bury himself deep inside her—and effectively consign Steven Reed and whatever demons drove him to the past.

*   *   *

It was almost daybreak before they got back to the cottage. Mandy grabbed her purse from under the front seat and Marc took his phone off the charger. Mandy was reaching for the front door when Nate stepped out of his house next door. Farmer’s hours. He was ready to begin his day as theirs was finally drawing to a close.

Marc waved at Nate and kissed Mandy. “Babe, go ahead and get your shower. I need to fill Nate in on what happened.”

She returned his kiss and sent him on his way. Marc was still so wired, she doubted he’d go back to sleep at all this morning. She, on the other hand, was ready to fold. Her chin was a bloody mess, her knee hurt like the blazes, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

She hoped Ted or Theo remembered to drop the blankets and pillows off. She and Marc had totally forgotten to get them out of Theo’s car.

No matter. There were extras in the hall closet. With that thought in mind, she went into the bathroom, stripped off her clothes, and made the mistake of looking in the mirror before she got into the shower.

She was a mess. Her chin was scraped raw and the raw part was filled with grit. There was blood on her neck and her hair was filthy and still had twigs in it. She glanced at her knee, which had swollen up like a grapefruit. At least that explained why she’d been limping. Even her throat was bruised. Enough of the visuals. Maybe if she washed the blood off, she wouldn’t hurt as bad.

Looking at the sparkling diamond on her left hand helped.

She stayed in the shower much longer than normal, but there was a powerful need to wash Steven Reed’s touch off of her, even more than the dirt and grime. The man was foul. Or had been. She refused to think of him as Marc’s father. Marc was his mother’s son, and Elizabeth Marchand Reed was a woman to be proud of.

Steven Reed wasn’t anything anymore, beyond a bad memory.

She wondered how Marc felt about his father’s death. He hated the man, but had he loved him when he was little? Needed his approval the way most kids needed their parents’ approval? She and Lola had dealt with that need where their mother was concerned years ago when they’d made a conscious decision to be there for each other, and while her mother was a flake and, as of the last time they saw her, an occasional drug user, she wasn’t a killer.

Mandy really needed to call Lola. But not yet.

She stepped out of the shower and toweled herself dry, pulled on her green bathrobe, and stepped into the bedroom. Marc was tucking the blankets in after making up the bed.

He stood and stared at her, almost … almost as if he thought she might be angry?

“Are you okay?” She walked around the bed and looped her arms over his shoulders. Then she kissed him.

Marc glanced away. So not like him. But then he closed his eyes, sighed, and turned to Mandy. Cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly, careful of the abrasions on her chin.

“He hurt you,” he said, voice broken, emotions so raw, so close to the surface in every word he spoke. “I’m so sorry, Mandy. I never, ever wanted him to hurt you. I didn’t protect you, and I will never forgive myself.”

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She felt the steady thud of his heart against her cheek, wanted to stay like this forever. Of course, she was ready to fall asleep on her feet, but still … “S’okay.” She smiled, even though it made her chin hurt. “You were there for me, you risked your life for me, and I wasn’t about to let him kill me, either. He’s dead, Marc. He’s not going to hurt anyone again.”