Love, Page 21

  “I’ve missed this,” I said, sliding my hands across his shoulders and down his arms to his strong, bulging biceps.

  “Remember all those days of kissing, necking, petting and making out we did when we first got together?” His eyes were twinkling.

  “Yes,” I whispered breathlessly as he lowered his face, kissing across my cheek and down my neck.

  “Remember them well, because we’re stuck back there again until you get a doctor’s clearance.”

  I sighed in frustration, and he chuckled. “Not so fun being teased when the shoe’s on the other foot, is it?”

  “No, not at all. But lucky for me, you happen to be an expert at kissing; so I still think I’ll have plenty of fun.”

  He slid his tongue across the front of my neck and kissed up the other side, whispering near my ear. “I think we’re going to drive each other crazy.”

  I laughed, stroking my hand over his thick black hair. “You’re most likely right, but with all that anticipation—at some point, it’s going to be explosive.”

  Lifting up, he stared at me, grinning. “Oh, you have no idea how explosive.”

  “I bet I do.”

  Grunting, he pushed away from me and got off the bed. “I need to leave before things get too crazy. You rest and I’ll be back with food. Anything special you want me to buy?”

  I bit my lip, smiling as he readjusted his clothing. “So you got me all riled up, just to leave me?”

  Arching an eyebrow at me, he folded his arms. “I think it’s pretty evident you aren’t the only one riled up. Now answer my question.”

  I laughed and shrugged. “I’m good with whatever you want. My appetite has been a bit touch and go, lately.”

  “Understandable. I’ll try to find something to tempt you. Be back soon.” He headed toward the door. I got off the bed and followed him. “What are you doing?”

  “Following you to the door.”

  “No, you aren’t. I just carried you to bed because you were feeling faint. Now lay down. That’s an order.”

  I sighed, knowing better than to argue with him. But it didn’t bother me because I was really tired. “I love you. Be careful. Hurry home.” He watched as I crawled onto the bed.

  “I’ll be back before you know it.” With a wink, he disappeared from the room.

  ***

  The sound of the doorbell woke me up and I was briefly confused about where I was. Attempting to shake the fog from my head, I wondered how long I’d been asleep as I crawled from the bed. Quietly, I padded my way to the door and opened it, finding Russ standing on the porch.

  “Hey, Russ!” Smiling, I opened the door wider. “Come in.”

  “I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m working tonight. Besides, Dylan told me that I couldn’t come by for three days because you’re having ‘alone time.’ No, I don’t want to know what that means—though I’m pretty sure I’ve seen most of the lead up to ‘alone time’ between the two of you in the past.” I couldn’t help my laugh as he continued. “I’m just running an errand for the chief.” He handed me a large manila envelope. “This is the fire investigators report on your house. Dylan needed it for the insurance claim.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be sure that he gets it. I wish you could stay.”

  Russ smiled. “So do I. Soon,” he promised. “Enjoy your ‘alone time’.” He turned away and headed toward his pickup.

  “Russ,” I called after him and he glanced back. “Dylan and I are planning on having a small family get-together this weekend. We’d love it if you’d come.”

  “I’d like that. Sorry I’ve got to run. Talk to you later.”

  “Have a good night. Be careful.” He gave a wave and I shut the door, looking down at the envelope he’d left me. Opening it carefully, I reached inside and pulled the documents out.

  Scanning through the first page, I saw it stated things that Dylan had already told me. I flipped to the second page, and the doorbell rang, again.

  “Russ?” I called, turning around to open it. But it wasn’t Russ on the doorstep.

  “Hello, Cami. Do you remember me?” Studying the tall, brown haired guy on the doorstep, I searched my mind. His good-looking features were familiar, but it took me a moment to place him.

  “Yes,” I said, recognition dawning. “Derek Johnson, from high school, right?”

  He smiled and nodded. “Is Hunter . . . uh, I mean Dylan, home?”

  “He’ll be back shortly.” I couldn’t figure out why Derek Johnson was standing at my door. “Wait.” The memories niggled at me. I remembered he was the guy who Dylan, or in this case Hunter, used to buy his drugs from. “Weren’t you arrested in the sting? I thought you were in jail.”

  He nodded. “I was, but I’m out now. I just wanted to drop by and tell him all he did for me.”

  “That’s sweet. I’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by. Do you have a number he can reach you at?” Something wasn’t right. No one but Russ and our families had this new address. We hadn’t told anyone else about our move.

  “Actually, I’d like to tell him in person. Here’s my card.” Glancing down, I saw him pull the gun from his waistband. He pointed it at me, leveled at almost the same place I’d been shot before. I started shaking, attempting to slam the door, but he rushed it from the other side and shouldered his way inside. Backing away as he closed the door behind him, I tried to think of someplace I could hide until Dylan got home, but my mind was blank.

  “Derek, please.” Trying to diffuse the situation, I raised my hands in submission and continued to back away. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but there has to be a way we can work it out.”

  “Oh, there is. I’m here to finish what Gabby started, damn girl. If she had followed the plan, she’d still be alive. But no, she was always so impatient to see you suffer.”

  “You were working with Gabby?” I asked. My heart sank, knowing this was the worst possible thing that could happen. Revenge against us was still in play and Dylan was going to come home and walk into a trap.

  “Let’s save all the gory details for when your husband gets home, okay?” He waved the gun at me, gesturing toward the stairs. “Come on. Up we go.”

  Slowly, I turned and did what he said. “Please don’t hurt him, Derek.” I hated how my voice trembled, showing my weakness. “You still have the power to put an end to this nonsense.”

  “Nonsense? Is that what you think this is?” he yelled and I jumped, terrified. “If I didn’t need you, I’d shoot you right now, just for saying that.” As if to prove his point, he shoved the barrel in my back prodding me forward. “Keep moving,” he growled.

  Doing as he asked, I paused at the top of the stairs, wondering where he wanted me to go.

  “Into the bedroom.”

  I moved in that direction, fear gripping me as I wondered what he intended to do. As we entered, I glanced around, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. “How did you know where we lived?” I asked, trying to keep him talking, stalling for time to think of something—anything.

  “I’ve been watching you both for a while. Watching and waiting for exactly the right time. Gabby.” He sighed and I dared to turn and face him. “She almost ruined everything. Stupid bitch always thought her way was best.”

  “Then why’d you keep her around?” I didn’t know if that was the best thing to ask, but my mind was grasping at straws as I tried to stall him.

  “Because—all her faults aside—Gabby was always a great lay.”

  I swallowed thickly. “So she was your girlfriend?” That didn’t bode well for us if he was emotionally tied to her and Dylan had killed her.

  He seemed to consider this, before giving me a cold smile. “Partner-in-crime would be more accurate. With benefits.” He chuckled. “Now take your clothes off.”

  “Ex . . . excuse me?”

  “Did I stutter?” he snapped. “Take your damn clothes off.”

  I shook my head, backing away, but he followed. “I
can’t. I won’t.”

  He shoved the gun in my face. “You’ll do it, now,” he screamed. “Or I’m going to blow your husband’s fuckin’ head off the second he steps through the door. Now take your clothes off!” Reaching out, he grabbed the fabric of my blouse, yanking it down and tearing it. Immediately, I set to working on the remaining buttons with my shaking hands, not wanting him to touch me. As soon as I managed to get it open, I shimmied out of it.

  “Now the pants,” he said, dropping the gun lower and I complied, unbuttoning and unzipping before pushing them off my hips, allowing them to fall to the floor. “That’s good. Now lay on the bed, on your stomach.”

  “Please don’t do this, Derek,” I said, tears falling down my face. Silently, I called for Dylan, yet I wanted him to stay away, too. “Please.”

  “Lay on the bed,” he ordered again, in a flat tone. Moving, I crawled onto it, lying as instructed. “Put your hands behind your back. Lock your fingers together.” Doing as he asked, he quickly straddled me. Grabbing my hands, he bound them with something that felt like twine, but I couldn’t figure out where he got it. As soon as he finished with my hands, he moved and tied my feet, before roughly rolling me over so I was face up. It was then that I saw the twine wrapped around his waist, and what appeared to be vials and syringes taped to his chest. I realized, with a sinking feeling, that he had rigged his body to appear normal to anyone who might have been watching, but he was loaded up with supplies. Who knew what he had hidden in the pockets of his cargo pants?

  He ran his hand over me, from my neck to the first bandage on my stomach. “Did it hurt? Being shot?” he asked.

  “I don’t remember much about that night.” My voice was shaking.

  Grunting, he ripped the bandage off my wound that’d been repaired and stitched closed. Taking his finger, he pressed down, poking the injured area and I screamed out.

  “It hurts now, doesn’t it?” he asked with a smile as he stabbed at it again and I arched up trying to scoot away.

  The gun was suddenly at my temple.

  “Don’t move.” His voice was deadly calm. Sliding the gun across my cheek, he caressed it in a path down my body, pausing at the bandage that covered my C-section incision. “How about this? Does this hurt?” Removing the bandage, he ran his fingers lightly over the damaged skin. “I bet it did, huh? Were you awake when the tore your dead baby out of your body?”

  I didn’t reply, refusing to give in to the mental torment he was pushing on me. He lifted the gun and slammed the butt of it into my incision.

  “Ahhhhh!” My scream echoed off the walls as blinding, white-hot pain pierced my body. I continued screaming; wailing as sobs wracked my whole body.

  He started laughing. “There. That’s more of the reaction I was going for.” He dragged the gun lower, dipping the barrel between my legs. “You were never my type in high school, but I can see why Dylan might enjoy this ride. Up for a test drive, Cami?”

  I shook my head, still reeling from the pain in my body. “D . . . don’t. P . . . please,” I managed to stutter out and he laughed, again.

  “Which is it? Don’t or please?” He pressed the gun against me.

  “Don’t,” I choked out between sobs, minor relief passing through me when he removed the gun and sat up.

  “Okay. You win—for now. I need to get downstairs. We need to make sure your husband gets his proper invite to this party.” Reaching into one of the large pockets on the leg of his pants, he produced a roll of duck tape.

  “Dylan!” I screamed hoping he was somewhere close enough to hear.

  Derek straddled me and I jerked my head rapidly back and forth in an attempt to keep him from covering my mouth.

  “Shut up, bitch!” He slapped me hard across the face and I cried out, momentarily stunned, as I saw stars dancing in my vision. Taking advantage, he slapped the tape against my mouth, followed by a couple others, before rolling me on my side. Jerking my legs up, he used more rope to tie my hands and legs together. “Just a little insurance to make sure you aren’t stupid enough to try and get up. He slapped his hand against my stretched belly and my scream tried to force its way out my nose, leaving me struggling to get enough air. “Don’t suffocate while I’m gone. I’ve got big plans for you.” Tucking the gun into his pants, he laughed and swaggered from the room.

  Chapter Thirty

  Dylan-

  Pulling into the garage, I turned the car off and got out, popping the trunk from my key ring. I felt bad for taking longer than I’d intended, but I wanted to make a special dinner for Cami to celebrate our first night in our new place. Plus, I knew we needed a lot of stuff when it came to food, so I’d loaded up on staples, not wanting to leave again during our time together. Grabbing as many bags as I could carry at once, I made my way to the kitchen door, adjusting things so I could turn the knob. Pushing my way inside, I headed to the kitchen.

  Grunting as something slammed into the back of my neck, I fell to the floor, groceries scattering everywhere. Shoes appeared in front of me, but then the blackness took over.

  ***

  A groan escaped me, the throbbing in my head intense. What the hell happened? I thought.

  Blinking, I tried to focus, but the room swam in front of me, the dizziness making me nauseated. I felt like I needed to throw up, but I couldn’t move. Something was restraining me. Yanking on my hands, I realized they were tied behind the chair I was sitting in, and my feet were firmly strapped to the legs. Keeping my head lowered, I glanced around the basement, trying to figure out what was going on.

  “Ah! Look who’s finally coming around,” a male voice spoke. It sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t remember from where, exactly.

  Gingerly, I lifted my head. “Where’s Cami?” I asked. Even in my confused state, dread managed to seep through me.

  “She’s right over here. She and I have been getting reacquainted, haven’t we, sweetheart? I have to say, I sure can see why you enjoy worshipping at her altar. I’ve been itching to give her a try, myself. By the way, it’s great to see you again, Dylan, or should I call you Hunter?” Squatting in front of me, he stared me in the face.

  Derek Johnson? I cringed, knowing immediately we’d obviously missed a very crucial tie in on our case. There was no way this was a coincidence. He and Gabby were in this together.

  “It doesn’t matter what you call me,” I said, trying to hold a strong posture. “It’ll still be these same two hands that kill you.”

  He laughed; standing and patting me on the shoulder. Even that small touch caused pain in my aching head. “Good to see you still have your spirit, buddy. I’m gonna have fun breaking it.”

  “Why?” I asked. “We were friends. What would drive you to do this?”

  “Friends?” he said calmly. “Is that how you treat your friends—lying to them, then stabbing them in the back?”

  “It was my job. Not personal.” I said, trying to keep him talking so I could find out what was going on. “I had no intentions of hurting anyone– only helping to make things better.”

  “Not personal?” He slammed his fist against the pool table. “It was pretty damn personal to me!”

  “What are you talking about?” There was a touch of madness in his eyes that worried me.

  “Do you know how I got into drug dealing?” he asked, seeming to completely change the subject.

  “No.” I craned my head to the side, trying to locate Cami’s position, my blood running cold when I saw her across the room bound to a kitchen chair, in only her underwear. Her mouth had been duct taped and her bandages were missing. Her eyes were red and swollen and I feared what horror she might’ve already been put through.

  Raged boiled through me, replacing the ice in my veins. Stay in control of your emotions, Wilcock. I silently commanded myself. Rely on your training. You’ve got to figure a way out of this mess.

  “My dad hooked me up,” Derek continued, bringing my attention back to him.

  “Your
dad?” I wondered where he was going with all of this.

  “I can see the judgment going through your mind right now. What kind of father would pull his kid into something like that? Well, I’ll tell you. A desperate one, that’s who.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Slowly, I moved my fingers over the back of the chair, trying to find an edge or something sharp enough that I might be able to cut through the bonds.

  “Did you know my little brother had cancer? No?” He continued on, answering his own question, as if I wasn’t there. “That’s not surprising. Not many people did. You see, my parents didn’t have insurance. He needed surgery if he had any hope of surviving. So, our family did the only things we could think of to come up with some fast cash. We got into the drug business.”

  I could see where this was heading and it was not a good direction.

  “Then, one day, this new kid shows up at school. Only he wasn’t really a kid, at all. He was an undercover cop!” he yelled, as he got in my face once more. “You’re the reason my brother died! Once I was arrested, no one would do business with my dad. We lost everything. Everything. Because of you!” Drops of spittle sprayed from his mouth onto my face as he spoke.

  I shook my head. “You can’t blame me for something I didn’t even know about.”

  He straightened suddenly. “I can. I have. And I do. I came home to a dead brother and a mom who’d lost her mind from the trauma of it all. All of this started with events you set in motion.”

  I needed more information. “How’d you get messed up with Gabby?”

  “Gabby was a stroke of luck. She got out of jail around the same time as me and came looking for a fix. We started hooking up quite a bit and got talking. When we realized we shared a common hatred of you, we started devising a plan.”

  “Did your plan included for her to end up dead?” I asked, taunting him. He removed his shirt, revealing all sort of strange items taped to his body. Slowly, he started peeling things off as he spoke, setting them on the pool table.

  “Gabby was impatient. I kept telling her to watch and wait, that the right time would present itself. But she wanted to force things to move along faster and started doing a lot without my knowledge. We got in fight when I found out you’d both disappeared, but we caught a lucky break when she happened to recognize Cami and you on a news reel about a festival in Eagar.”