Secrets and Scars: A Gripping Psychological Thriller (Fatal Hearts Series Book 3) (13 page)

BOOK: Secrets and Scars: A Gripping Psychological Thriller (Fatal Hearts Series Book 3)
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I needed Owen. I knew now that I couldn’t spend one more moment without him by my side. He was the only person who had seen me at my best and my worst, the one person who promised to love me even when I was in pieces. How could I turn my back on that?

When we finally pulled apart, I sank down on a rock, far away from the crashing waves.

Jeordi and Owen discussed the logistics of getting the body to Boca Raton for the burial. I was not in the right frame of mind to make such decisions.

Once they had finished, they walked over to me.

“Are you ready to head back to the farm?” Jeordi asked. “You can get some rest before starting your journey home.”

“Jeordi…” A sad smile curled my lips. “We’ve already imposed enough. Thank you for your kindness, but it’s time for us to go.”

“I agree with Chloe. She can rest on the yacht; it’s not far from here. I have food on board.” Owen shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

I turned to Owen. Fresh tears drowned the questions in my eyes. The answer terrified me, but I needed to know. “Ingrid? Anna? Who?” Images of a man lying next to the fire pit returned to me. I placed a hand on my throat, unable to breathe. How many lives did Alvin take?

Both Owen and Jeordi were quiet for a while. Only the sound of the waves could be heard over the silence.

Owen spoke, his words snapping off another piece of my heart.

“He killed one of Jeordi’s men... Rodell.” Owen wiped his eyes. “He tried to stop Alvin from getting to our hut.”

Rodell had been the man who had raised his rifle when Jeordi first brought us to the huts. The man who had watched over us when Jeordi went on the search for Alvin. A man who had ultimately tried to protect us, and died in the process.

I went to Jeordi, pulling him into a hug. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. We should never have come to your farm.”

Jeordi tightened his arms around me. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He paused for a long time. “When it’s time, it’s time.”

“If there’s anything we can do...” I let go of Jeordi. “Maybe we should come with you, stay for the funeral.” Would they even want the person responsible for the death of an innocent man to be present at his funeral?

“That’s not necessary.” Jeordi pressed a gentle hand to my hair. “You’ve gone through enough. Go home. Make every moment of your life count.” Jeordi took my hand and placed it in Owen’s. “You are a lucky woman to have a man who loves you so much.”

Blinking away tears, I leaned into Owen. I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heart beating, just as I had prayed I would. His arms wrapped around me.

An hour later, I stood on the deck of Owen’s yacht and watched the Vendetta shrink into the distance.

Even from far away, even with Alvin gone, I saw the studio, the dungeon, the mattress, the bathtub, the bucket. I heard Alvin's footsteps, the heat of his hands on my skin, his breath in my ear. But the smaller the boat grew, the easier I could breathe.

Before we’d left, I’d begged Owen to pass by the Vendetta. I’d wanted to see it one last time. Seeing it again, how small and helpless it looked from afar, gave me some small measure of catharsis.

 

Chapter Thirty-One

 

The blinds were still drawn, the room thick with darkness. The same darkness that invaded my heart. I sat on the unmade bed of my hotel room, my arms around my legs, rocking back and forth. The screen of my new phone told me it was four a.m.

I’d just woken from my second nightmare of the night, and sleep had refused to come to me again.

Owen and I had arrived in Boca Raton yesterday morning. Entering my life again had been terrifying, and as much as I wanted to appreciate my freedom, memories of Alvin held me prisoner. I continued to look over my shoulder, expecting him to emerge from around the corner. Each time I looked inside my purse, my eyes subconsciously searched for the envelope, the card, the bloody piece of lace.

The only people who knew we were back in town were the police and the people closest to me. We had requested that the police not yet notify the press, to give us privacy until I had found a way to come to terms with what had happened, to adjust to my new reality.

But in all the darkness, I had come home to some unexpected good news. I had called my mother last night to tell her I was back home safely. I told her bits and pieces of what had happened, but left out most of the horrible details, as she wouldn’t stop crying. I decided I would tell her whatever else she wanted to know when she came to see me. Before she hung up, she told me her good news.

“I’m fine, baby. Dr. Monroe said the cancer has miraculously gone into remission. I’m not in danger of dying anytime soon.”

The phone call extended to another hour as we both cried with relief.

“Mom, I’m so happy. You’re cancer free? I can’t believe it.”

“You and me both. I can spend a few more years making up for being such a bad mother.” Her soft crying squeezed my heart. “I’ve been given a second chance. So have you. We’re both healthy and safe.”

“Yes.” The word came out in a whisper. “Yes, we are.” I did not tell Mom about the HIV yet. I’d wait until I was sure about my status.

The other great piece of news came from Kirsten, who had been one of the first people I saw yesterday. I’d invited her to lunch at the hotel.

Of course she had been equally devastated by my kidnapping, but relieved I had made it out alive.

“How are
you
doing?” I’d asked in an attempt to distract myself from my burdens.

She’d answered with a wiggle of her fingers. A huge diamond ring flashed on the ring finger.

“Patrick has stepped up his game.” Her face beamed. “He’s moving to Boca Raton next month.”

“Wow.” I drew her in a hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

“So am I. Long-distance relationships suck.”

I broke the embrace. “What about the open relationship talk?”

“All in the past. He wants only me.”

My heart swelled with joy for my friend. True love didn’t come knocking often.

I ended the conversation without telling her about Owen, though.

A shuffle on the other side of my door chased off my memories of the day before.

With bated breath, I watched the doorknob turn.

Owen appeared in the doorway, the light behind him making him look angelic, despite his hair being just as rumpled as his clothes.

My shoulders relaxed.

“I thought you might be awake. You okay?” Owen was keeping his promise of not invading my space while I grieved Miles’s departure from my life, but he insisted on staying with me at the hotel for a few days, occupying the second room of the spacious suite.

“Will I ever be?” I gave a small laugh. “Come in.” I uncurled myself from the ball my body had formed and stretched out my legs.

He perched on the edge of the bed, a hand on one of my legs. “Take it slow. You don’t have to be okay all in one go. Learn to be okay one day, one hour, one minute, one second at a time.”

“A minute feels like an hour inside my head.”

“I know.” He stood, and without asking for my permission, climbed under the covers. I didn’t push him away when he wrapped his arms around me. “When it gets to be too much, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you, Owen.” I wasn’t exactly sure what we were, but I didn’t want to further complicate my life by asking too many questions. All I knew was that every moment he was close, I was a little bit more okay.

“Are you sure you want to attend his funeral?” He held me tighter, held me together.

“I think I need to. It could help me move on.”

People would think I was crazy for giving the man who kidnapped and abused me a proper funeral, but they didn’t realize I was not only burying Alvin. I was burying a man who had once been good to me, a man who had sacrificed his life to save mine. He’d also done a lot of good for the community, and people who had benefited from his kindness needed a chance to say goodbye properly. “It will be damn hard, since the press will be there as well, but I can’t not do it.”

“I understand. I hope it won't be too much for you.”

“It will be, but at least I’ll have you there.” I pressed my cheek to his chest and breathed him in.

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Two

 

In a few minutes, the wait would be over.

I picked up a home decoration magazine and leafed through it. I didn’t want to think about what awaited me on the other side of the door.

As I scanned the images of gorgeous architecture, beautiful furniture, and manicured lawns, I tasted sadness at the back of my throat.

Miles and I had planned to redecorate our home after the wedding. A new beginning for the two of us. A cabinet in my office held a folder filled with all the ideas I had wanted to pursue. Who would have thought it would come to this instead?

I was still not brave enough to step into the house, and God knew when—or if—I ever would be. How could I sleep there, surrounded by reminders of my old life with Miles?

The hotel was not a long-term solution, but for now it was the right choice. I’d decide what to do with Miles’s house after the funeral.

So many heartbreaking decisions to make.

“You can go in now, Ms. Parker.”

Not Mrs. Durant.

I stood up on shaky legs and moved slowly down the short corridor leading to the doctor’s door. I had not had any alcohol, but still my head felt light, and my body swayed as though I were drunk.

Stupid. Why didn’t you let Owen come with you?

I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Dr. Stevens was an older woman with kind, close-set eyes, and a thick grey bob resting on her shoulders.

“Have a seat, Ms. Parker.” She picked a folder from her desk and flipped it open.

A broken smile touched my lips. “Bad news?”

“Let’s see.” She pulled out a sheet of paper, studying it for a moment that felt endless. She lowered it again and removed her glasses.

In the heartbeats it took for her to speak again, my stomach did flip-flops, pushing bile to my throat. My head spun as I held my breath. Inside my head, I heard the words she would say: “You are HIV-positive.”

Instead she said, “You have nothing to worry about, Ms. Parker. The results have come back negative.”

I shook my head as her words took a moment to sink in. “You mean—”

“You are HIV-negative.”

“Are you sure?” My hands trembled in my lap. Doctors made mistakes all the time.

“Absolutely.” She smiled brightly.

I stood and extended my hand to her. “Thank you.” I bit back tears as I squeezed her fragile hand. “Thank you so much. This is the best news.”

“I’m afraid I had nothing to do with it.” She chuckled. “But I suggest you come and get tested again in a few months.”

My attempt at a chuckle failed. It had been a while since I’d had something to laugh about.

Outside Dr. Stevens’s office, I called Owen.

“I need to see you. Come to the hotel.”

***

“I’m negative.” I blurted out the words before he’d fully entered the suite.

His eyes melted along with mine, and then we were in each other’s arms. The next thing I knew, his lips touched mine. I parted my mouth to welcome his kiss.

The slow dance of our tongues was intoxicating. His hands swept across my skin, leaving it prickling with heat.

With the virus no longer looming over me, I allowed the feelings I had for him to flood every part of my being. Inside his arms, my senses exploded to life. All this time, it had been him. It had been him all along. How could I not have seen it, felt it?

He broke our kiss and sank his fingers into my hair, gazing deep into my eyes. “That’s the best news anyone has ever told me.” He kissed my nose. “Now that we have that out of the way, the only thing standing between us is your answer.”

“You didn’t ask me a question.” I bit my bottom lip, smiling cheekily.

“You know my question. I want to know if you feel anything for me.”

“And you know my answer.”

“I want to hear you say the words.” His voice was thick with passion.

I pressed my lips to his ear. “Well, if you must know, you make me feel things I’ve never, ever felt before. Not with anyone.”

“That’s nothing. I’m just getting started.”

I squealed as he swept me off my feet and took me to my bedroom.

He lowered me gently onto the bed. His fingers moved fast, removing my clothes and tossing them to the side of the bed. He paused for a moment when he saw one of the bandages on my leg. His features clouded for a moment, then he kissed the area and returned to our moment together.

I reached down and unbuckled his belt, a hole expanding inside me—one only Owen could fill.

He didn’t stop kissing me as he removed his own clothes, peeling away the layers between us, until we were skin to skin.

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