Raven smiled. “She is that. Where’s Hope?”
“Your daughter is now trying to keep up with Ethan, the son of my sheriff buddy, Blake, and his wife, Amanda, from Carder. They took her for pizza. Ethan has decided he’s going to marry her someday.”
“Let’s get her out of diapers first,” Raven said. She rested her head against Daniel’s chest. “I hope I did the right thing in okaying the transplant.”
“If it had been Hope—”
“I would have done the same thing.” She gave him a tired smile. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here. Most wouldn’t want to be bothered.”
Daniel rubbed the nape of his neck. “You needed me. I told you that I’d be here as long as you needed me.” He held out his hand. “How about some fresh air?”
She nodded, and they left the hospital. Trouble trotted right beside Daniel, following them into an open area before settling in the grass and watching them.
Ignoring their canine voyeur, she breathed in and stared at the man beside her. She wanted to ask him a question, but she was afraid of the answer. However, her heart needed to know. “How long are you staying?”
He dropped her hand and stepped back. “Do you want me to leave?”
“I never want you to leave.” Raven couldn’t meet his gaze. “If you’d asked me a few weeks ago if I would or could fall in love in a few days, I would have called you crazy. Daniel, I fell in love with you.”
He stared at her, open-mouthed.
Heat rose in her cheeks. “Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say. I need someone in my life who wants a family. I have two girls to look after. I can’t—” Her voice broke. “If you don’t want the same, I...I can’t be around you anymore. It makes me want...more than you can give.”
“What do you want?” His eyes burned into her, holding her captive.
“I’ve seen you with Hope. You’re always here, always caring. You make my heart race when you touch me. I love you, Daniel Adams, but I don’t think you feel the same.”
“You’re wrong.” He pressed his lips softly to hers. Raven’s entire body collapsed against him. “I love you, Raven. You gave me stillness and peace that I never thought I’d find. You touched me in that wine cellar and drove away my demons. But more than that, I’ve watched you with Christina. I’ve watched you love that little girl you didn’t know. You gave her the strength to fight. How could I not love you?”
With a shudder, Daniel held her close.
She shivered against him, and Daniel closed his eyes. “I want to be there for you. Forever. Always. I want to love you, the girls and any children we may want in the future. But it’s a risk, honey. Those demons will always be there for me. All I can promise is that I’ll fight them for you, for the children.”
She leaned away and cupped Daniel’s cheek. “If you’ll fight, I’ll be there by your side, Daniel. I will never give up on you. I’ll never give up on Christina or Hope.”
“Then I have just one question, my love.” Daniel knelt on the grass. Raven stared down at him; her breath caught. He pulled a box from his pocket. A bullet casing tumbled out with it, landing on the grass.
Daniel stared at the bit of brass, but didn’t pick it up. Instead he held out her ring. “Will you marry me? Can you love me, despite my flaws and my fears?”
She knelt next to him. “I will marry you, Daniel.”
He slipped the diamond on her hand. “I promise you, Raven, to never give up. On life, on love, or on you.”
Epilogue
Darkness surrounded Daniel. Above him, below him, around him, he could feel the walls against his shoulders.
The nylon play tunnel rippled along him. A joyful giggle tinkled through the darkness, then another joined in the chorus. Finally two small figures collapsed onto his chest and hugged him.
“You captured me, my little princesses.” He laughed softly. “What am I going to do?”
A light flicked on, and Daniel looked behind him through one of the open ends of the tunnel. Raven stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, Trouble sitting at her feet. “You’re all going to wash your hands for dinner, that’s what you’re going to do. Daddy has to study for his big exam.”
His two girls ran to their mother and wrapped their arms around her legs. She knelt down and kissed each nose. “I’ll be checking those hands, ladies.”
“Okay, Mommy!”
Hope grabbed her sister’s hand and dragged her off to the bathroom. Hope was such a little mother to her twin, probably because Chrissy had been so sick for so long.
Trouble wagged his tail and followed the girls.
At four years of age, they’d grown so much since those dark days.
“Chrissy’s color is good.” Daniel crossed the room to his wife.
His wife.
His heart flooded with satisfaction. He’d never thought he would be here. Never imagined, after everything that had happened with his father and Daniel’s captivity, that he would find any kind of peace. Now he was over a year into getting a doctorate in psychology to specialize in helping victims of PTSD.
Not only had Raven quieted his soul, she’d filled his heart.
She burrowed her face into Daniel’s chest and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning into him. “The doctor was supposed to call today. He hasn’t called. That can’t be good.”
“We’ll deal with whatever comes our way.” Daniel lowered his mouth to hers, tasting her lips with a promise. “Never give up. On life, on love, on each other. Wasn’t that our vow?”
“Always.” Her eyes held a tinge of fear. Neither one of them had allowed themselves to think beyond the bone marrow transplant. They couldn’t. He wrapped his arm around Raven, and together they walked down the stairs.
The girls stood on the landing, wet hands outstretched, identical grins on their faces. Just as Raven bent over to inspect the job, the phone rang.
She froze. Daniel plucked the receiver from the base unit. “Hello?”
He strode over to her and leaned her back against him, tilting the phone so she could hear. His body tensed, bracing himself for the worse.
“We received Christina’s tests results, Mr. Adams. Her blood work is as normal as it can be.”
Raven’s knees gave way, and Daniel took her full weight. He couldn’t stop grinning.
“We’ll run the test periodically,” the doctor added, “but I think we’re out of the woods. Congratulations.”
Their daughters, sensing something had happened, stopped their playing. Chrissy looked up at her parents. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”
Hope gripped her sister’s hand. “Is Chrissy sick again, Mama?” The girl’s eyes grew wet with unshed tears.
Daniel raced across the room and grabbed one daughter in each arm. “Everybody’s well.” He whirled them around. “We’re having a celebration. Ice cream all around.”
“Yea!” The twins escaped his embrace, skidded to the kitchen and stared intently up at the freezer.
Daniel held out his hand, and Raven linked her fingers with his. He kissed the tips one by one, and she shivered.
“How about a date tonight? We could make some more memories,” Daniel said, his voice low and full of promise.
Raven’s eyes flared with passion, and Daniel smiled at the love shining just for him.
She leaned into him, her weight trusting and true. “Memories we’ll never forget.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from UNDERCOVER TWIN by Lena Diaz.
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Chapter One
Heather recoiled with disgust and turned away from the
couple in the dark corner, their gyrating bodies moving as wildly as the couples
filling the dance floor. Every beat of the music hammered at her skull. The
smoky haze had her eyes watering. And the rancid odor of the sweaty mass of
people seething around her had nausea coiling in her stomach.
Normally a seedy bar wouldn’t faze her. She’d been in nearly
every major nightclub in northeast Florida, let alone Saint Augustine, because
of her job. The free-flowing alcohol lowered inhibitions and made gathering
information far quicker and easier than an old-fashioned stakeout ever could.
But tonight wasn’t about work. Tonight wasn’t about snapping pictures of a
cheating husband in a compromising position for a couple hundred bucks. Tonight
was about finding her sister, going home and soaking away her pounding headache
in a tub full of strawberry bubble bath.
She clutched her purse to dissuade any greedy fingers from
trying to pilfer her wallet and fought her way to the bar, like a salmon
swimming upstream. By the time she found an empty stool to perch on, she’d been
groped and propositioned so many times she was seriously considering exchanging
her tub of strawberry bubble bath for a tub of hand sanitizer.
The bartender stopped in front of her. But even though his lips
were moving, Heather couldn’t make out what he was saying over the heavy-metal
music pumping out of the speakers. He motioned to her and she leaned
forward.
“What are you having?” he shouted.
She shook her head. “Not drinking. Looking for my sister, Lily.
She looks like me. Have you seen her?”
“Do you have a picture?”
“I
am
the picture. She looks
exactly
like me. We’re identical twins.”
He wiped his greasy hair out of his face and squinted at her in
the dim light. His mouth curved in a lecherous grin, as if he was considering
the possibility of a threesome. “Sweet.”
Heather’s stomach rolled. She hopped off the bar stool, but the
bartender waved for her to wait.
“Check the bathroom,” he said. “I might have seen her heading
in that direction a few minutes ago.” He pointed to the dark hallway just past
the couple who’d been enjoying each other so enthusiastically earlier. They both
had silly, sleepy grins on their faces now. The guy looked at Heather and
winked. She shivered with revulsion.
After thanking the bartender, she braced herself for another
battle and fought her way through the throng of people to the pink neon sign
that read Females and hung over the women’s restroom.
When she pushed the door open, the strong smell of urine and
stale beer hit her with gale force. She coughed and waved her hand in front of
her face. If her sister wasn’t in this bathroom, she was leaving. She’d go home
until Nick was finished with whatever emergency his boss had called him about.
And this time, when he offered to help her get her sister into an alcohol
treatment program, she’d listen.
Just thinking about her new boyfriend of only eight weeks, his
sexy half smile, the way his deep voice made her toes curl when he called her
darlin’, had her feeling better. It was wonderful having someone like Nick in
her life. She was so tired of having to be strong all the time, with no one else
to share her burdens.
“Lily?” she called out. “Are you in here?” She let the door
close and stepped farther into the room. The lighting was even worse in here
than out in the main part of the club, for which she was extremely grateful. She
didn’t want to know what disgusting substance was on the floor, crunching and
sliding beneath her feet. “Lily?”
She made her way down the row of stalls, knocking and using the
toe of her sneaker to nudge each door open. When she reached the last stall, she
heard a noise, like someone taking a deep breath. “Lily, it’s Heather. Is that
you?”
“Don’t come in here.” The voice behind the last stall door
sounded slurred, but there was no mistaking it.
Heather rolled her eyes. “Lily, are you drunk again? Is that
why you called me to come get you?”
“I told you to come at midnight. You’re early.” Another
sniff.
She shook her head in exasperation. It was just like her sister
to expect Heather to rescue her, but only on Lily’s timetable, on Lily’s
terms.
“I have to get up early in the morning to meet with a new
client. If you aren’t ready to leave right now, and you’re too drunk to drive,
call a cab.” She turned and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Lily called out, her voice sounding mildly panicked.
“Just give me a minute. My car won’t start, and I don’t have money for a
cab.”
Because she’d already blown all the money Heather had given
her? Money Heather couldn’t afford to give her in the first place?
Heather curled her fingers around her frayed purse strap and
stepped back to the stall door. “What are you doing in there? Drinking? Haven’t
you had enough already?”
“Just wait at the bar. I’ll be right out.”
The airy quality of Lily’s words wasn’t lost on Heather. Her
sister sounded far worse than if she was just drunk. All kinds of scenarios
flooded Heather’s mind. None of them good. “Open the door.”
Cursing sounded from inside the stall. “This is a bathroom.
Give me some freaking privacy.”
Heather hesitated. Arguing with her stubborn sister wouldn’t do
any good. It would just make her dig in deeper and fight harder.
“All right, I’ll meet you at the bar.” She walked to the door,
her shoes crunching across the concrete. She stepped into the hall, turned
around and tiptoed back inside, easing the door closed behind her. She quietly
moved back to the row of stalls, pausing a few feet down from the stall her
sister was in, so Lily wouldn’t see her through the cracks around the door.
Loud noises sounded from outside the bathroom. Yelling. Feet
shuffling. It sounded like people were running. What kind of craziness was going
on out there on the dance floor?
Heather ignored the noise and waited. A moment later, the lock
on the stall door slid back and Lily stepped out in her ragged jean cutoffs and
tank top that showed far more than they concealed, including another new tattoo,
a small pink dragon peeking out from the top of Lily’s shorts. Her sister
couldn’t afford to buy her own groceries or gas money, but she could pay for a
tattoo? Heather gritted her teeth. She was putting in eighty-hour
workweeks—minimum—just to keep up with her car payments and rent.
She
certainly couldn’t afford a tattoo, even if she’d
wanted one.
She was about to give her sister another lecture on being
frugal when she noticed what her sister was holding. In one hand she clutched a
dark blue nylon backpack. In the other, she held a baggie of white powder and a
rolled-up dollar bill. Heather’s stomach sank. Now she knew why her sister was
making those sniffing sounds earlier.
Cocaine.
Lily’s eyes widened and her face went pale. Heather grabbed the
baggie and ran into the stall. She tossed it in the toilet and pressed the
handle.
“What are you doing?” her sister screamed. She dropped her
backpack and shoved past Heather.
Heather stared in stunned amazement at her sister on her knees
on the filthy floor, with her hands in an equally filthy toilet trying to fish
out the baggie. Her heart breaking, Heather turned away, but a flash of white in
Lily’s backpack made her hesitate. She knelt down and pulled out a duct-taped
brick of more white powder wrapped tightly in plastic.
Her hands started to shake. At least two more bricks of cocaine
peeked out from the bottom of the pack. She couldn’t even
begin
to imagine the street value of those drugs, or how many years
in prison that would buy.
Lily looked back at her and cursed. “Give me that.” She tried
to get up, but her feet slid on the slippery floor.
Heather ran with the brick into the next stall and crouched in
front of the toilet. She desperately ripped at the tape and plastic.
Lily stumbled in behind her, clawing at Heather’s hair. “Stop,
don’t do it!”
Fire shot through Heather’s scalp. She gritted her teeth
against the pain and tore at the plastic, scooping the white powder into the
toilet, flushing several times, using her body to block her sister until
everything was gone but the tape and plastic.
Lily must have grabbed the backpack when she’d chased after
Heather, because now she was cradling it against her, as if to keep Heather from
taking the rest of her precious stash of drugs. She slowly slid to the floor,
black mascara running in streaks down her face. “What have you done?” she
moaned.
Sympathy and anger warred inside Heather as she stepped over
her sister to get out of the stall. She was determined to leave her there, but
she couldn’t seem to make her feet move to the bathroom door. How many times had
Lily dropped into her life over the years, staying just long enough to blow
through Heather’s totally inadequate savings account? How many times had Heather
woken up to discover her sister gone again, moving on to the next sucker in her
life, or her next big scam, or her next drinking binge—usually after stealing
one of Heather’s credit cards? How many times would Heather let her sister turn
her life into a disaster and disappear until the next time Lily needed a place
to crash?
Her shoulders slumped. She knew the answer to all of those
questions. No matter how many times her twin hurt her, Heather would still love
her, and she’d always be there for her. She couldn’t walk away and leave her
sister, the only family she had, not like this.
She sighed heavily and turned around. “Come on. Let’s go home.
We’ll figure out what to do, together.”
“I don’t want your help,” Lily spat out. “I hate you. I always
have.”
Her sister’s words shot like an arrow straight to Heather’s
heart. She drew a shaky breath, steeling herself against the pain. “Hate me all
you want, but I’m still not going to leave you sitting on this filthy floor.”
She reached her hand out to help her sister to her feet.
Lily jerked back, like a wounded animal perched on the edge of
a cliff, afraid to trust the one person who could save it.
A loud banging noise sounded behind Heather. She whirled around
to see the bathroom door being held open as a group of six men dressed all in
black rushed inside. Heather instinctively positioned herself in front of her
sister.
“Federal officers, freeze!” one of the men yelled.
Federal officers?
The man closest
to her trained his gun on her while two others hurried down the row of stalls,
slamming the doors open, looking in each one.
Heather stared in horror at the three white letters printed
across their black flak jackets.
DEA
—Drug
Enforcement Administration.
Her boyfriend, Nick, was a DEA
agent.
One of the men grabbed Heather and pulled her away from the
stall. Another one grabbed Lily and pulled her out into the middle of the room.
Lily keened a high-pitched sound and fought to get away.
“Hey, be careful,” Heather yelled. “You’re scaring her.” She
tried to yank her arm away from the man holding her so she could help her
sister.
“Let her go.”
Heather froze at the sound of the familiar deep voice behind
her. The man holding her dropped his hands and stepped back. Heather turned
around. The tall man filling the bathroom doorway, his short blond hair glinting
in the dim light, was wearing the same dark clothes as the others and the same
black flak jacket with the letters
DEA
across the
middle.
Nick. Thank God. He’d know what to do, how
to help Lily.
The look of shock on his face was quickly replaced with anger.
His brows were drawn down and his jaw was so tight his lips went white. He
looked mad enough to strangle her, but at least he wasn’t pointing his gun at
her, like the others. He held his gun down by his side, aimed at the floor.
He was probably furious that she was in the middle of this, and
she couldn’t blame him for that. She should have taken his advice. She should
have tried to convince Lily to go into an alcohol treatment program. Then maybe
Lily wouldn’t have gotten mixed up with whatever she’d gotten herself into now.
Heather had naively insisted she could help her sister on her own, without
taking such a seemingly drastic step. But obviously Nick had been right.
Nick holstered his gun and strode toward her.
Heather was so relieved she almost slumped to the dirty floor.
“Nick, I’m so glad you’re here. Lily is scared. She’s not—”
Nick roughly grabbed her arms and spun her around, shocking
Heather into silence. He pulled her hands behind her back. She gasped at the
feel of cold steel clamping around her wrists. A ratcheting sound echoed in the
room, and he pushed her toward the door.
“What are you doing?” she cried out.
“Heather Bannon, you’re under arrest.” His voice was clipped,
cold.
“What? Wait, what are you talking about?”
He paused beside the last sink and leaned down, pressing his
lips next to her ear. “You’ve got cocaine in your hair, darlin’,” he
growled.
Heather’s gaze shot to the mirror. A wild-eyed woman stared
back at her, a cloud of white dusting her normally dark brown hair, making it
look prematurely gray.
Her horrified gaze met Nick’s in the mirror. “I can
explain.”
“Tell it to the judge.” He grabbed her arms and marched her out
the door.
* * *
I
N
HER
HIGH
SCHOOL
years, Heather had thought rock bottom was
getting an A-minus on her trigonometry final exam, knocking her out of becoming
the valedictorian.
In college, she’d thought rock bottom was flunking the GMAT and
failing to get accepted into the master’s degree program at Jacksonville
University.