28 Days: a romantic suspense (20 page)

He closed his eyes and, not for the first time, he wished that he could go back eight years to when his life was somewhat on the right track.

6
:15pm

W
alking toward her father
, Saige held tightly to Quinten’s hand for support and wondered when the whole nightmare that had started eight years ago would end. She was afraid that once she’d spoken to her father, she wouldn’t step foot in his home again. Having Quinten beside her helped more than he could possibly know and it was his strength that currently held her together.

He’d been right, she did need to hear her father’s reasoning, even though she knew it had everything to do with her father’s refusal to accept Quinten as the man she loved. She hated that she’d let him direct her life for so long without knowing that he did. Why had she never seen him as being manipulative? He’d always let her think that it was her idea when, in fact, she’d been living the life he’d wanted her to.

They approached his chair, where he sat by the water with a bottle of beer in his hand. Only the slight turn of his head indicated he knew they were there.

“He called me,” her father started. “I didn’t think you’d come after what he told you.”

Quinten ushered her closer and pulled her down onto his lap as he sat on one of the three vacant chairs. His arms around her waist kept her anchored.

“Why?”

Her father was silent for a long time and just when Saige thought he wouldn’t say anything, he started talking. “Peterson had been arrested for murder and your abduction. I couldn’t let you have his child. I kept you drugged because I didn’t want you to remember him and possibly remember that it had been someone else who took you. I wanted you away from him, and your abduction and his arrest gave me the opportunity for that to happen.”

Quinten wiped the tears from her eyes with trembling hands. She knew that he blamed himself for what happened to her, but she didn’t. She didn’t blame him for any of it. It was all out of their control, and she wasn’t blaming him for falling in love with her.

“Did you know the real killer was Paul?” she asked, the thought just crossing her mind. “Because if you thought I’d remember someone else taking me, that tells me you knew it wasn’t Quinten.”

Her father turned and looked at them, his eyes red-rimmed. “I didn’t know it was Paul.” His voice shook. “I didn’t know who it was. I knew that I could protect you and keep you safe, so I let the investigation run its course. During the course of the trial, I realized that he was probably innocent. I honestly thought that the jury would come to that decision. I was surprised when he was sentenced to death because of how little evidence they actually had.” Her father dropped his chin to his chest.

“Was your inclination to punish me really because of Saige or because of my brother sleeping with your wife?” Quinten asked, barely controlled anger behind his words.

Her father shook his head. “I won’t discuss Christina with you,” he hissed.

Saige had had enough and stood, tugging Quinten up with her. “I’m leaving Florida with Quinten.” Her father flinched at her words. “We want a life together and I want to help him rebuild his carpentry business.” She couldn’t help the tears that ran unchecked down her face as she looked at her father—the man who was supposed to protect her from evil. “That’s what love is all about, and I love him, Dad...I love you, too, and that’s why my heart is breaking.”

She fought back the sob and her dad stared at her, his eyes filled with anguish but she didn’t care. He couldn’t understand how much his actions had hurt her. “I love you, but I don’t love who you’ve become. You have destroyed so much and you nearly destroyed my happiness and my love. Quinten is both of those and you would have let him go to the execution chamber to protect your pride. I’m leaving Florida, but I can’t have a life with you in it and after today, I never want to see you again.”

Saige tightened her grip around Quinten’s hand and turned to head toward the car.

“Saige?”

She ignored her father’s call.

“Please...Saige...Quinten!”

She closed her eyes and turned to face him. Her father had stood, looking unsteady beside the chair.

“I...I know it’s probably too late, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” He looked at Saige. “I love you, honey.” He held Quinten’s gaze. “Saige is precious, please look after her and keep her safe.”

Quinten glanced at her and pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “I promise.”

2
:15am

Q
uinten lay spooned
behind Saige with an arm draped over her waist, and the other she used as a pillow. He watched her sleep, her features finally relaxed from the stress of the day.

He’d wanted to say more to her father for what Richard had done to his daughter, but he could see how broken Saige was with the day’s discovery.

What he hated to admit was that he understood where her father came from. His daughter had been abducted, abused, and the man her father thought responsible was the man his daughter was in love with. She was pregnant with his child...Quinten understood, but couldn’t accept the way that her father had gone about dealing with it, or the drugs that he’d given her. Saige should have been given a choice. Deep in his heart though, he knew that Saige would have never believed that he was guilty, and she’d have kept and cherished their child.

When he was with Saige, he used to dream of having a little girl who looked just like her mama, with hair so blonde and soft, and eyes so blue. He would have cherished her just as much as he did her mother. As the first tears started to run from his eyes, he wondered if their baby had been a boy. His son would have been a miniature of him, and would have loved baseball, fishing and so much more.

Quinten buried his face into the back of Saige’s neck and, while she couldn’t witness his despair, Quinten gave way to the tears he’d held back all day. He had held himself together because he saw that Saige had needed that, but it had been difficult when his heart had been breaking all over again for the life they’d created with love, and then had taken away from them.

He froze when Saige started to turn, and when she met his gaze, she tugged him down to her chest and held him while he broke down. Great racking sobs shook his body as he held onto her as tightly. Saige ran her fingers through his hair while she silently cried with him, the unevenness of her breathing giving her away.

The one constant in his life was Saige, but the rest of his life was in turmoil. He hadn’t had a chance to catch his breath since he’d been freed from jail, and he felt like he was drowning with no direction.

Saige had mentioned his carpentry, and really, that was all he knew, but after being away from it for so long, he wasn’t sure that he even wanted to go back to it. He wanted a new life away from everything he had ever known…a new life with Saige by his side.

His girl had been through so much that he was surprised she hadn’t walked away from him when the doctor had delivered the news...to his relief, she hadn’t. He felt guilty for even thinking that she would, but everyone he’d ever known had walked away from him...except Saige and his brother.

Everything always came back to the girl in his arms, who cried herself back to sleep.

He was glad, and as he slipped from the bed, he cast one more glance over his shoulder before he closed the bedroom door.

1
:00pm

S
aige smiled
as she watched Quinten turn another page in the book he read. They’d had a quiet day of not much talking, but there’d been a lot of touching—a soft caress to her arm or a hand to his back. She needed his touch as much as he obviously needed hers.

After the news from yesterday, Saige had been at a loss of what to do or how to move forward, but for Quinten being by her side, she wouldn’t have gotten through the night—they helped each other...and now she needed to be closer.

Rolling from the sofa she laid on, Saige walked on her knees toward Quinten, smiling when his eyes landed on her. He closed his book and let it drop to the floor before he reached for her.

Saige climbed on top of him and, when her head rested against his chest, she sighed in pleasure. “This is where I’m supposed to be.”

“I agree with that,” Quinten mumbled, moving around to a more comfortable position. “I never thought I’d get the chance to hold you again.” He kissed the top of her head, his arms holding her close.

“It’s my fault that you spent eight years behind bars.”

“Hell no!” Quinten tugged her up so he could look into her eyes. His hands gently cupped her face, his thumbs caressed along her cheekbones. “You had nothing to do with me being sent away. Nothing, Saige.” He brought her forehead to rest against his. “I have never blamed you, and I never will. I blame the justice system.” He wrapped her tightly up in his arms again. “You’re as much a victim as I am.”

Saige let her tears soak into his shirt, and reminded him, “I killed our baby,” she sobbed.

Quinten paused and then jumped up from where he sat before sitting back down and rearranging her in his lap. “They had you drugged, and they kept you that way. What they did to you was illegal and once we get the report the doctor said he sent to you, we’ll pass it over to Coulter and let him deal with it.”

“Okay.” Saige tried to dry her face up with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, but didn’t quite succeed. “I need a tissue.” Climbing from his lap, Saige went into the bathroom and used toilet paper before she washed her face with cold water in the basin.

“You okay now?” Quinten asked, coming up behind her and trapping her between the vanity and his warm body. He kissed her neck, and rested his chin on her shoulder so that they both stared into the mirror.

Saige reached up with one hand and caressed his face, noticing the faint lines from where Jocelyn had used her nails. Quinten turned and kissed the palm of her hand.

“I love you, and I hope you don’t mind me telling you all the time,” Saige whispered.

“I’ve waited years to hear you say those words to me again, so I’ll never get tired of hearing them.” His hands slipped around her waist, his hardness obvious against her bottom. “I love you more than I have words to describe,” he admitted, his voice thick with longing.

“I really want your baby, Quinten.” Saige bit her lip, wondering why she blurted those words out, but once Quinten got over the obvious shock of hearing them, his lips twitched and he smiled all the way to his eyes.

“We haven’t exactly practiced safe sex, so I’m guessing that’s going to happen sooner rather than later...but are you really ready for that after what we’ve discovered?” he asked, a worried frown on his brow.

“I’m angry that my father agreed to an abortion without even telling me I was pregnant. To me, that is worse than him keeping me drugged for two years. Although, I’m upset that the life we created with love was taken, I don’t have one memory of knowing.” Saige shook her head. “I’m not making any sense.”

“I understand what you’re trying to say. You’re saying that you didn’t know, so how could you mourn for something you had no clue about. In this case, our child.”

“I don’t want to think about it anymore and I want to try and put that in the past as much as I can, because the thought of someone invading my body in that way makes me want blood...that report will be given to Coulter, regardless of my father being responsible.”

Quinten tugged her sweatshirt free of her shoulder and pressed his warm lips against her skin. “A can of worms has been opened and Coulter’s out for blood. Trust him.”

“I do...will you take my mind off everything,” Saige asked, and pressed against the arousal he couldn’t hide even if he tried.

“You sure?” he asked.

“More than sure.” She smiled, and tugged her sweatshirt off and pushed her leggings to the floor. She cupped her breasts and watched him gulp when his eyes landed on the large mounds through the mirror.

“Wait.” Quinten looked around and grabbed a towel to cover the edge of the vanity before he pushed her against it. “Spread your legs.”

She did and then felt the gentle caress of Quinten’s palms over her bottom and the tickle of his fingers between her thighs. His breath was warm against her skin as he nuzzled into her neck.

“You have too many clothes on,” she hissed between her teeth when he removed her hands from her breasts and replaced them with his own, rolling and pinching the hard nipples between his finger and thumb.

“Not for long.” In two seconds, he managed to remove his sweats and shirt, and pushed his penis between her thighs; the heat of his body coursed down the entire length of hers.

Saige pushed back and, reaching between her thighs, rubbed the head of his shaft that teased her clit with her thumb.

His hands trembled against her skin as he lifted one of her thighs up, and brought her knee onto the vanity. “Hold steady.”

She couldn’t do anything else, and then she felt him nudge into her. Once he was seated inside of her, he brought her leg down, which caused him to curse a blue streak as she clenched around him. “So good,” he grunted.

His hand held onto her breasts as he started to slowly glide in and out of her. She wouldn’t be able to hold on for long because of the way he made her feel—like she was his and his alone.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered against her neck. “Never forget how much I love you.”

“Never,” she agreed.

9
:15am

C
oulter observed
Paul Lewis through the one-way glass as he sat silently next to his lawyer. Every now and again, Paul would lean over and whisper something to the lawyer, and it seemed to Coulter that he was almost...
excited
. He really couldn’t figure the man out.

Lost in thought, Coulter vaguely registered the arrival of the DA, but couldn’t ignore him once the man cleared his throat to get Coulter’s attention.

“He has no idea what he’s going to face in prison, does he?” the DA, Gregory Bishop, stated.

Coulter sighed. “No...and that worries me.” He glanced at Greg and back to Paul. “He said he wants taking care of. Who confesses to murder for that?”

Greg stared at Paul and laughed. “I guess he does.”

“He has gone into detail about each murder except the first one. In my experience, serial killers never forget the first life they took. They remember it, and try to better it. Why doesn’t Paul Lewis remember?” Coulter shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Then go and ask him.” Greg shrugged when Coulter met his eyes. “He’s talking, regardless as to what his lawyer has advised. It’s as though he has no secrets, so ask and see what he says—how he reacts.”

Coulter turned his gaze back to the two-way glass wondering what was really going on in the head of Paul Lewis.

“I’ll stay and watch,” Greg commented, and probably used it as his way of telling him he didn’t have all day.

Coulter nodded and walked from the room. He took a minute to himself in the hallway and ran a hand down his face, exhausted. The case had kept him awake at night because something niggled at his conscience but what was the big question.

He glanced at the door and before he could have second thoughts, he pushed his way inside.

Paul Lewis sat straighter in the chair when he saw him, but the man’s lawyer frowned and whispered something to Paul, who ignored whatever was said.

“Detective,” Paul started. “I was told that I wouldn’t see you again so this is a nice surprise.” He moved around on his chair as though he was
excited
.

That word again.

“I wanted to go over some questions with you.” Coulter took the chair across from them, and his frown deepened when he glanced at Paul who eagerly awaited the questions.

Coulter sat back in the chair and held Paul’s gaze. “Tell me why the college girls were killed one way, and Fern and Tracy another...and what I can’t understand is why you have no recollection of your first killing—that doesn’t normally happen with a serial killer.” He’d leave Jocelyn and Saige out of it for now.

Without a pause to think, Paul answered, “I was rushed and drunk with the first girl. That memory isn’t really there. Fern though, was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t intend to kill anyone else, but she caught me sneaking around outside of Alex’s building. She threatened to scream and would have given me away. So I silenced her...It felt good to silence her.” Paul grinned and then looked sad just as quickly.

He continued, “I really didn’t want to hurt Tracy, but she followed me one night and saw me digging up the jewelry box, which I buried after I put the trinket from Fern inside. After I left she went and dug it up to see what it was.” He looked remorseful for once. “I knew someone had been around, messing with my things...and then Tracy acted weird around me, and I just knew. I went to her house that night when Alex was there and heard her tell him that she knew who had taken Saige.” Paul glanced at his lawyer, who looked exasperated with him.

“Paul, what else?” Coulter prodded.

“I had to keep her quiet, so I took her out into the woods and killed her. She fought me though. Made me angry. I didn’t want to hurt Tracy, but I couldn’t stop...I’m sorry.”

Coulter rubbed his brow and couldn’t find any hesitation in Paul’s answers—nothing that raised a red flag saying that he lied.

“What about Jocelyn? You said that you loved her.”

“Detective Robinson,” the lawyer said, annoyance in his voice, “my client has been asked these questions over and over again. I know that’s the norm but he’s already been charged. You have the evidence and you have his signed confession.”

Coulter ground his teeth together to keep his mouth shut until he could talk without his own annoyance showing.

“We will continue to ask your client questions until we are satisfied with the answers.” Coulter proceeded to look at Paul. “Jocelyn?”

Paul stayed silent and stared at his hands on the table. “I thought she loved me. She didn’t.” His voice hardened. “She was going to betray me. Once Quinten had been sentenced to death, she had second thoughts and was going to tell you that Quinten was innocent and that it was me. I didn’t believe her at first, but as she started to walk away from me, I realized she would tell you. I was angry and upset so I struck out and attacked her. She begged me not to hurt her, but I did. She was like all the others...
a whore
.”

Over the many years that he’d been a detective, Coulter had seen and heard things that would give others nightmares, and in all that time he’d never met anyone like Paul Lewis before.

“Your truck, Detective,” Paul added, which got Coulter’s attention. “At first, I didn’t want you showing up in Port Jude, which I knew you would at some stage because the warrant had been signed by the governor. I knew you’d show up asking questions. I was stupid with the bomb, and inept as it turned out, for which I’m grateful because it was premature of me when you’re the one I expected to get Quinten out of prison. I knew he wasn’t guilty, but I figured everyone was safe as long as he was in prison. I didn’t want him to die though. That would be wrong.”

Coulter was tired of Paul and the case. He needed some fresh air, and Amber, to clear his head.

He stood and shoved his chair under the table. “Why, Paul? Why kill those women within hours after they’d been with Alex?” That was one thing that had been on his mind.

Paul looked up and held his gaze. “Because Alex is the evil brother...not Quinten. I wanted to lead you to him but you never once thought that he killed anyone. I must have done something wrong to set him up, huh? I won’t make that mistake again.”

Coulter left and sagged against the wall outside of the room. Paul Lewis wouldn’t get a next time. He was totally, utterly crazy.