Home Bound (7 page)

I nodded. “He was. I met him in basic training. He had joined the Marines willingly, and I sort of went as a last resort. A way to escape.”

“Escape what?”

“My life.” I looked over at her and her expression hadn’t really changed much. She seemed genuinely interested in what I was saying. I shrugged. “My father was the town drunk, and my mother died when I was eight. We were piss-poor, and I did what I had to do in order to survive.” My words were harsh. I was expecting to shock her, but still she didn’t react. “I’ve stolen food, clothes, money...cars. I was into drugs while I was in high school and did my best to stay away from home. I would sometimes sleep in the alley rather than go home.”

“Why?”

“Because I was the old man’s punching bag when I was there. I wasn’t always this big. And I used to be afraid to fight back.” I gave a mirthless laugh. “I was lucky that I sort of had an overnight growth spurt. I came home one day and the sight of me kind of took him by surprise. He punched...and I punched back."

“What did he do?”

I met her gaze and held it. “He pulled a gun on me.”

“Oh, my God!”

“Yeah, he pretty much was completely out of his mind—the alcohol always made him mean. He had the gun to my head and was telling me what a worthless piece of shit I was.” I shrugged again. “It wasn’t new information, and he wasn’t the only person in town with that opinion of me. He went on and on about what I disappointment I was, and all the while, he kept pressing the gun into my forehead.”

“What did you do?” she asked, leaning forward slightly.

“He may have had the gun, but his reflexes were shit. He was so busy ranting and raving and listening to the sound of his own voice that he was taken by surprise when I moved. I swung my arm out and had him on the ground with the gun to his head in a heartbeat. I beat him until he was unconscious.”

“What happened to him?”

“At the time? I have no idea. I took the gun and all the booze in the house—along with the few belongings I had—and left.” I straightened and took a deep breath. “I walked thirty miles to the next county and enlisted. I heard he died a year later.”

“Oh, Cole...that’s horrible.”

“Why? He was a drunk. A bully. A bastard. You know how he died? He was walking the streets, drunk as a skunk, and wandered onto the train tracks. He probably never saw the damn thing coming.”

Evangeline gasped.

I stood. “Believe me, no one misses him, and the world is a better place without him.”

She sat silently for a long minute. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What did you do when you found out he’d died?”

“Not a thing. The military made sure I was notified, but I was deployed overseas. There was nothing to go home for or to do.”

“Did you go back after you were discharged?”

I nodded.

“But...why?”

“I had no place else to go. I found out that the house was left to me, so I planned on just going back and cleaning up whatever mess the old man’d left behind and leave. It wasn’t that simple because...well, I was injured and...”

“What happened to you?”

I explained to her about the explosion that had killed Gavin, my voice devoid of emotion. “Half of my body was ripped apart from flying shrapnel and debris. I had broken bones. I was fairly mobile by the time I was released from the hospital, but I was far from healed. I thought I’d make a quiet re-entry back into civilian life. I’d seen stories of guys like me getting a hero’s welcome when they came home. Not me. All I got was a bunch of judgmental old bitches who couldn’t wait to remind me of my past.”

“That’s not fair!” she cried.

“Yeah, I know. But it is what it is. Closed minded people rarely change. I couldn’t help my circumstances when I was a kid. Maybe if someone had bothered to pay attention to the fact that my mother was dead and my father was beating me, I wouldn’t have had to steal. I might not have gotten involved with drugs. But instead, they all want to act as if I was just being rebellious for the sake of rebelling. Fucking hypocrites.”

“I’m so sorry...I...I can’t even imagine what that must make you feel like.” She reached out and took one of my hands in hers. Her skin was so soft and when she looked up at me, her eyes were huge and filled with tears.

“Don’t...” I began almost angrily. “Don’t feel sorry for me. It’s over. I’ve moved on.”

“Have you? Because it certainly doesn’t seem like it. It seems like you’re punishing everyone for the actions of a few people.”

I tried to pull my hand away, but she held on. “I’m not a moron. I can see how people look at me.”

“Do you? Do you really?”

“How do you see me, Princess? The first time you looked at me, you looked your pretty little nose down at me. You looked disgusted, repulsed.”

“That’s not fair. You didn’t give me a chance to react at all before you came out fighting. If you don’t give people a chance to know you and only show them the asshole, then of course they’re going to look at you with disgust.”

“Yeah. That’s a good theory.”

She looked down, and then up, and her expression had changed, as if she wasn’t quite as real as she’d been the minute before. “I know this may seem like a weird question but...would you mind if I asked you some more questions about your upbringing? You know, for my character in the movie?”

If she had kicked me in the fucking gut, it would have been less of a shock. Here I was telling her my life story and believing that she’s actually interested—interested in getting to know
me—
and it was all for the sake of her fucking role in a movie?? What the hell?

Unable to control myself, I reached out and hauled her to her feet. Her body slammed against mine and I got a perverse thrill from watching her wince in pain. “As a matter of fact I do mind. Do you think this is a fucking joke? That what I just told you was for your entertainment?”

“What? No!” she cried. “I just...I thought...”

I shoved her away with disgust.

“We’re done here,” I muttered and walked away, not stopping until I had stormed out of the suite and slammed the door behind me.

***

B
y the following Friday I was ready to pull my hair out of my head.

Things had been quiet on the set—no more dead rodents or letters had arrived. I felt like a damn rent-a-cop with nothing better to do than stand around and wait.

And watch.

As much as I hated to admit it, Evangeline had some serious talent. The woman that I had essentially manhandled the previous weekend had managed to seriously impress me. She wasn’t quite the diva I had originally imagined. She showed up on the set each morning without a stitch of makeup on and still managed to look beautiful.

Then she’d walk around—always with either myself or Malcolm close by—and take direction and do her scenes, and I have to tell you, some of this shit was brutal. This wasn’t a glamorous role for her, and she didn’t seem intimidated at all by the fact that her looks were being played down.

Maybe I had been quick to judge.

Maybe.

“She really is something, isn’t she?” a quiet voice said from beside me.

I turned and saw the mousy chick, Janelle, and some guy standing next to me. I hadn’t seen him before. “Hey,” I said. “I’m Cole. And you are?”

“Oh, I’m Matt. Janelle and I work together. I was out with the flu for a couple of days, and today’s my first day back. You’re the security guy, right?”

He was the male version of Janelle. Kind of geeky, kind of mousy. The kind of guy who would blend into the background. Hmm...

“It’s good to meet you, Matt,” I forced myself to say. “Just know that Malcolm and I are working hard to make sure Evangeline’s safe. We’ll be checking on everything you bring to her on the set.”

The kid nodded, and then went back to watching the scene that was being shot. And when I turned to do the same, I could understand why the two of them were so mesmerized. Evangeline had a lot of dialogue in this scene, and the sound of her voice was actually kind of nice.

We hadn’t talked much since I stormed out of her place last weekend. The only time we did was when we were forced to, and I needed to ask about her schedule or about anything or anyone that seemed out of place.

She answered in one word most of the time.

Yeah, I’d screwed up. I handled the situation like a jackass, but in my own defense, she seriously pissed me off.

Not that it was anything new, but I knew I was going to catch shit for it the next time she talked to Sebastian.

And that was another thing that had me on edge this week. I’d called in for the conference call—like a good little boy—and basically, some time in the near future, we were all going to be called to D.C. to wrap up the report.

The conversation was oddly quiet. Levi talked but seemed distracted, and none of us had much to say. I knew why—they all blamed me. What else was there to say? We were going to go listen to some official reading of a report, and although no charges were likely to be filed, it was going to be out there—voiced loud and clear—my poor judgment cost Gavin his life.

Like I needed anyone to tell that to me.

I looked down at my watch and saw that it was almost seven. The shooting has gone late today, but according to the schedule I was given, they were expected to finish up around nine. They had some scenes in the alley that required being shot at night. After that, Evangeline wasn’t going to be needed on the set for about four days.

Only...no one else knew that. I had talked to Pete, the director, and a fake schedule had been handed out to the rest of the cast and crew. We were going to try and see if we could catch anyone off-guard. So Malcolm and his guys were going to come here and follow the same routine they had every day since filming began, and I was taking Evangeline out of town for a few days.

That was a disaster waiting to happen in itself.

The plan was to secretly whisk her away but keep a decoy car and crew hanging out here to keep an eye on things.

With any luck, our stalker would make a move. Or a mistake.

And I’d be able to wrap this case up by the end of next week.

Evangeline

T
hings were better when I was actually on set.

At least then, I had plenty to distract me from Cole and his constant, brooding presence.

But yesterday evening, after I’d finished on set, we had left Baltimore to go to an upscale D.C. hotel that guaranteed absolute privacy—a kind of makeshift safe house we could stay in for the next few days, when I wasn’t needed on set. Cole had some sort of plan to entrap the stalker to reveal himself by giving the cast and crew a false schedule for me. He thought it would be an efficient way to catch the guy quickly, so this whole ordeal wouldn’t have to drag on.

I was pretty sure he was just as excited about getting this job done so he could be rid of me as I was excited to be rid of him.

It was very stressful to have him hanging around all the time—since he consumed my whole mind, especially when I was off-set and had nothing else to do.

I was pretty sure the next few days were going to be hellish for both of us.

I slept in later than normal the next morning after we arrived at the hotel suite, because I spent most of the night tossing and turning and thinking in turn about the stalker and Cole. It was almost ten by the time I came out of the bedroom.

I wasn’t surprised to see that Cole was there, awake, sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen bar, drinking coffee and doing something on his phone.

He glanced up and his gray eyes went briefly hot when he saw me.

At least, that was what I thought his expression meant as his eyes ran up and down my body. I was wearing a camisole and little knit shorts—which is what I’d slept in—and I hadn’t bothered to brush my hair or wash my face.

I felt a little jump of excitement at the idea that he was attracted to me. Sure, it wasn’t that unusual—since I had a pretty good body and I had a kind of sex-kitten thing going with my public persona. And Cole was obviously a normal man who was likely to appreciate a somewhat decent female body. But I couldn’t help but feel that he was too cool and competent to let himself react to any attraction he felt for me unless he was
very
attracted.

And I liked the idea of his being
very
attracted to me, since I was more attracted to the arrogant ass every day.

“Good morning,” I said, managing not to leer at him, despite how sexy and masculine he looked in his t-shirt, which set off his tight shoulders, and his jeans, which looked great on his long legs and tight butt.

“Morning.”

We’d been pretty cool with each other for the last week, ever since he was such a jerk after I’d asked him about his background. We were occasionally snippy, but mostly we just circled each other, feigning politeness with absolutely no warmth.

I was used to getting along with most people, so the tension was very uncomfortable for me.

I went to the coffee pot and reminded myself that this would be over soon. Hopefully, Cole’s plan would work so the whole thing would be done by the end of the week.

“How did you sleep?” The mild question wasn’t friendly in any way, but it felt like a peace offering, just the same.

“Not too well,” I said, watching the coffee stream into my mug. “What about you?”

He didn’t answer, so I glanced back over my shoulder. He was giving a half-shrug.

“Did you sleep at all?” I asked, as it occurred to me that I’d never seen him sleep—or even seen him go into a bedroom for the night.

I was still looking back at him, so I saw the second half-shrug.

“You can’t stay awake day in and day out,” I said, sipping my coffee and watching his controlled face.

“I sleep when I need to. I’ve gotten used to going without a lot of sleep.”

“It can’t be good for you, though.”

“I do a lot of things that aren’t good for me.”

I could well believe that. He was in great shape, but I was sure it was because he was so active and not because he took really good care of himself. He seemed more like the kind of guy who lived hard and whose body had hardened accordingly.