Hot Pursuit (15 page)

“There isn't anything you can't tell me.”

“I'm afraid this might be the one exception.”

Honestly, he didn't know anyone who'd want him after this. He certainly wouldn't want
himself
. But he had no choice but to reveal the secret he'd never told anyone except Shane.

And pray she'd stay.

Cara squeezed Taylor's hand in reassurance as he led her inside. As they passed through the living room, Blake saw them heading for the stairs and grinned.

“Guess this means we're staying here so you can
keep an eye
on your wounded cop.”

“
I'm
staying,” Cara said with a wink. Letting go of Taylor's hand, she retrieved her purse from the coffee table, fished out her key ring, and tossed it to Blake. “You're taking the car and going back to my house for the night.”

Palming the keys, Blake snickered and shut off the TV. Pushing to his feet, he said, “See you guys tomorrow. Try to stay out of trouble. And thanks for dinner and the celebration.”

She smiled. “You're welcome. Congrats again.”

After he left, Cara locked the door behind him, but instead of resuming their path to the bedroom, Taylor lowered himself to the sofa in the spot Blake had just vacated. Walking over, she sat next to him.

“Whatever you have to tell me, I'm sure it can't be as bad as me admitting to stalking you.” She tried a smile, but his gaze dropped to his clasped hands.

“No, it's worse.” He paused, seeming to find the right words. “So much worse, especially when I learned your sister was pregnant.”

“That was hard for me to accept, too,” she admitted. “But I realize now that there's nothing you could've done to change the outcome.”

“But there is.” The laugh that rumbled in his chest was harsh. Bitter. “I could have saved your sister and her baby, if only I had made the right choice.”

“But you didn't
have
one.”

“Yes, I did. Literally. Your brother-in-law—”

“Sorry to interrupt, but I do
not
count that crazy bastard as family anymore.”

He nodded. “Understood. When the hostage situation began to escalate that day, Wright gave me a choice.” His expression was pure misery. “He started to unravel, told me to choose one person to live.”

Cara couldn't stop the gasp as her hand went over her mouth. “Who did you pick? But wait—he killed everyone, anyway.”

“That's just it. I couldn't choose,” he said in a quiet voice. “I told him that was an impossible decision and that everyone deserved to live. I tried to talk him down, to get him to let them go and keep me. But he screamed that he'd make it for me, and started shooting. I'm so sorry.”

Her heart had been ripped from her chest, the pain was so bad. She stared at him, unable to comprehend how it was still beating, why she continued to breathe. “Oh, my God.”

“I know I can never make this up to you. I don't know what else to say.”

“Make it up to me?” she breathed. The room was closing in. She couldn't look at him, didn't begin to know how to respond. “I—I need time. To think.”

She stood, grabbed her purse. Then she realized she'd loaned Blake her car.

Taylor stood. “I'll take you home.”

“It's only a few minutes from here. I can walk.” Blake could have, too, for that matter. But he'd known she was with Taylor and wasn't supposed to need her car.

She didn't mean to sound curt. Maybe she should stay, try to talk things out. But her brain was a chaotic mess, and in the center of the cacophony, there was Taylor, saying,
I couldn't choose
. It didn't make sense.

Her sister was dead. If he'd chosen Jenny, would she still be alive?

Taylor tried to protest. “I don't think that's a good idea. It's dark and—”

“I've been taking care of myself for years,” she said curtly. “I can manage the short distance to my house.”

He looked away and then nodded, expression resigned. He didn't try to apologize anymore, and she was glad, because she didn't know what to say. That it was okay?
Was
it okay?

He looked so miserable, she gave an inch. “I'll call you.”

“All right,” he responded sadly. “Talk to you soon.”

As she'd claimed, the walk was brief. Once or twice, she could've sworn she heard a slight noise, maybe a footstep, and finally she whirled—only to see nothing but the empty sidewalk behind her. Would Taylor have followed to make sure she was safe?
Yes, he would. He'd make sure I got home all right, no matter how I tried to dissuade him.

In minutes, she was letting herself in the house. Closing the door, she listened to him walk away. It wasn't until then she realized she was crying. Blake looked up from his spot on the sofa and his eyes widened as he leaped to his feet.

“What's wrong? I wasn't really expecting you tonight. Did something happen between you two?”

Taking a shaky breath, she wiped her cheeks and moved forward. Immediately she was wrapped in a fierce hug and she clung to him for a minute, soaking up the comfort he offered. Such a sweet boy.

“Come on, let's sit down,” he told her.

Pulling back, she followed him to the sofa, where they sat close, the younger man studying her anxiously. “I'm all right. I just need time to process something Taylor told me.”

“Can you share with me, or is it private?”

“He might get upset with me for saying anything, but I need somebody to talk to.” She needed perspective. A calm third party to listen.

“I'm here, then.” He patted her hand. “I won't tell anyone else.”

“I know. Remember when I told you that Taylor was involved in the hostage standoff with my sister? There was more. He told me tonight that just before my sister's husband went off the deep end and shot them all, he'd given Taylor an ultimatum—to choose who got to live or they'd all die.”

“Oh, my God! That's evil!”

“Yeah.” More tears leaked from her eyes and she swiped at them. “
Evil
is the right word.”

“So . . . why are you here?” He appeared genuinely baffled.

“What do you mean? I couldn't very well stay after he dropped a bomb like that on me!”

“Why not?”

“Because I needed to think! He told that lunatic he couldn't choose, Blake! And then Connor shot my beautiful sister and those other people.” Her breath hitched on a sob.

Unable to hold in the grief anymore, she broke. Blake wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her as she cried, the loss as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. For the longest time the young man didn't say a word. Eventually, however, he couldn't keep silent.

“I'm sorry you're hurting.” Pulling back, he swiped her cheeks with his thumb. “But I'll bet Taylor is, too. It seems like you walked out on him after he shared the most awful moment in his life with you.”

Staring at the kid, she tried to tamp down the sick feeling that rose in her stomach. “I couldn't deal with it right then. I had to go.”

“I can understand why you'd feel that way, but I can also imagine how lost Taylor's feeling right now. He probably thinks you hate him.”

“I don't,” she whispered. “I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that he could've saved my sister and her unborn child.”

“That's not fair. He didn't know she was pregnant. And even if he had, if he'd made that choice, there's no guarantee the crazy bastard would have kept the bargain. Meanwhile Taylor would've been giving the others a death sentence. Can you put yourself in his place? Really visualize making that decision in front of the others, having to see their faces when you basically played God and condemned them to death?”

“I . . . hadn't thought of it that way.”

“Your sister's husband may have been crazy, but he was smart enough to know the exact way to terrorize everyone in that room.” Blake shook his head. “The bastard left a good cop so traumatized he gave up a job in a high-profile police department in a big city to move here and start over. Your life was ripped apart, but his was, too.”

“God.” She lowered her face to her hands. “I completely fucked up.”

“Hey, I didn't mean that you fucked up. But if you guys are going to work past this, you have to look at things from his perspective also.”

“Maybe you're right and I should go back over there. But I just need time to sleep on it.” She rose, feeling exhausted. “I'm going to bed.”

“Let me know if you need me.”

After sending him a wan smile, she retreated to her bedroom, where she stripped and fell into bed in record time. Sleep didn't come easy, though. A man with sad green eyes chased her into her dreams.

•   •   •

The next day was a long rehearsal with the band. It was made even longer by the fact that she'd rather be at Taylor's house, trying to make things okay between them. It shamed her to think of how fast she'd gotten out of there after he'd opened up to her. She'd received a couple of texts from him and had only answered in short phrases, letting him know she was all right. She just had to talk to him in person. Texting wasn't ideal for communicating.

When quitting time rolled around, she was anxious and ready to get going. Which was why she was less than thrilled when Jinx stopped her, wanting to talk. Blake eyed the guitarist uncertainly, but Cara smiled at the younger man and told him to wait outside.

Once Blake was gone, Jinx shifted from foot to foot, looking uneasy. “I want to apologize again for last night. It was stupid of me—I mean, it's obvious you and the cop are together—but I guess a part of me wasn't ready to let go.”

“It's fine,” she assured him.

He sighed. “You ever take for granted somebody will always be there, and then all of a sudden it gets shoved in your face that they won't? That they've already moved on?”

“I have, but she didn't move on. She was taken from me.”

“Your sister.” His face paled. “Jesus, I'm sorry.”

“No, you're right. We do tend to stick our heads in the sand and ignore that things change.” She smiled at him. “I think of you as a friend and I hope you feel the same.”

“I do,” he said emphatically. “I don't want to lose that with you.”

“Me, either.” Giving him a quick hug, she stepped back. “I have to go. See you later.”

Outside, Blake was leaning against the car. “Everything cool with Jinx?”

“Yeah, it's fine. He apologized again.” Unlocking the vehicle, she got in and Blake followed suit.

“Poor guy. It must suck to think you're going to get your girl back, only to realize she's not yours anymore.”

“Or never was. Jinx and I were an item for a while, but we sort of ended it by mutual agreement without much fanfare. That is, I
thought
it was mutual, but now I realize that in his mind, he was giving me space until we got back together.”

“That won't be a problem for you and the band?”

“No, I don't think so. We're good.” She glanced at him as she pulled out of the parking lot. “I'm dropping you off at Guitar Center, right?”

“First night on the job! You won't have me in your hair nearly as much from now on, and before you know it, I'll be able to afford my own place.” He beamed at the prospect.

“I'm proud of you, but there's no rush as far as I'm concerned,” she assured him. “Take your time, save some money, then explore your options.”

“Thanks, Cara. What you and Taylor have done for me these past few months . . . it means the world.”

“I'm glad to help, and I know Taylor is, too. I enjoy having you around, but I also remember when I went out on my own for the first time, away from my parents and their expectations of how I should run my life. It's liberating.”

“I'll know that feeling soon enough. I've been on my own for a while, but surviving on the street isn't the same as earning an income and being able to pay for a place to live.”

“True. You're on the right track now, and I know you'll be fine.”

They chatted companionably until Cara dropped him off. “Call me if you need a ride home after work.”

“Nah, I'll catch a ride.”

“You sure?”

“Totally. I've got my house key, too, so don't worry if you're occupied someplace else.” He winked, getting a laugh from her.

“All right. Have a good first shift!”

After he headed inside, she pointed the car for Taylor's house. With each minute closer, the knot in her stomach grew bigger. Maybe she should've gone back last night. He'd been so down, and she'd been too caught up in her own grief to acknowledge his.

Finally, she parked in his driveway and sat for a few moments, gathering her courage. Part of her wanted to turn and run, but her need to be with him overrode her fear of rejection. Getting out of the car, she headed to the porch. Rang his doorbell and waited. When there was no response, she rang it again. Then knocked. Nothing.

Which was odd, because there were lights on in the house. At least one in the living room, dim enough to be a table lamp. She'd spotted a light on toward the back of the house, where the kitchen was located. The idea that he was deliberately ignoring her almost sent her away. The sudden surety that Taylor was not the sort of man to do that kept her focus firmly on finding him.

Something was wrong. Some spineless bastard had nearly killed him, and was probably still after him. What if—

No. She couldn't voice that thought, even in her head. There was a perfectly good explanation for why he wasn't answering. Stepping off the porch, she decided to try another door.

Around back, then. Fortunately it wasn't full dark yet, the Technicolor of twilight still brilliant in the sky. Otherwise she'd be creeped out by walking between his house and the neighbors', jumping at shadows and imagining she saw a hit man behind every bush. She'd laugh at herself, only that scenario was a real possibility.

Rounding the corner of the house, she unlatched the gate in the privacy fence, slipped through, and shut it again. She was contemplating whether she could gain entrance through his French doors when she saw him.