Chapter Twenty-Two

Brody

Skinner and his crew finally packed up and left. My head ached with such a savage ferocity I craved to find oblivion until the pain went away. Maybe to sleep for a week or three. I lay on the sofa, holding Lindsey's hand as she sat on the coffee table, with her head bowed.

"Okay, so what did you do?"

Lindsey shrugged. "I overdid it, I think. I traumatized her. Maybe I didn't need to go so far."

"Nightmares for a lifetime are a small price to pay for keeping that life."

"Is it? Maybe killing her was more merciful."

"Nope. As Skinner once said, we don't need deaths on our hands. Bethany deserved every fright you gave her. She'd have killed you, remember? There was no mercy in her. None."

"But where does revenge end, Brody? All I had to do was show her what I was, right? That's frightening enough, isn't it? I had to throw in every possible terror and probably messed her up for life."

"And make her fully realize what we are. Fire breathing dragons."

She covered her face with her hands. "I hate myself. I hated lying to Skinner."

"I know. You had no choice. And I don't hate you. I love you."

"I'm a monster."

"You're a dragon with a conscience."

"That's even worse."

I snorted laughter and stopped when my pain flared. "Look. You're a wonderful human and a terrific dragon. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. So you scared the bejesus out of Bethany. You also guaranteed she'll never bother you again."

"What if she talks?" Lindsey asked. "What if she claims a dragon grabbed her and flew so high she couldn't see the ground?"

"No one will listen," I replied. "Stop worrying. Let it go. What's done can't be undone."

She nodded behind her hair, still miserable.

"C'mere. Lie down with me."

I lay on my side to make room for her as Lindsey stretched out on the couch beside me. Dawn wasn't very far away. Nor could I see myself going to work. My job is toast. Sammy will get promoted and good for him. "We should try to sleep."

"I don't think I can."

I tightened my arm around her waist. "Then just relax, baby. Just know that I love you, and I'm proud of you."

***

I rubbed my brow bump as I re-read the text I'd received from the head honcho. "I've been canned," I said. "Fired for cause. That means no severance."

Lindsey stepped behind me and rubbed my shoulders. "You'll get another job. It's a big town and memories are short."

"Yeah." I deleted the text and tossed my cell onto the kitchen table. "It just sucks, though. I just bought that truck, I have payments, a mortgage –"

Lindsey kissed my neck. "Stop worrying. It'll work out."

"Yeah. If that fucking Rivers hadn't busted into my life, fucking it over, things would be great."

"Then we might not have met. Fated to be together, remember? I have some money put away. It'll keep us for a few months."

"I remember you saying you won't support me."

"I changed my mind."

She left me, crossing the kitchen to tidy up. I watched her stunning body in her tight jeans, her firm waist and belly under her fitted t-shirt. "How did I get so lucky to find you?"

Lindsey smiled, her sky-blue eyes glinting with mischief. "I don't know. Fate, maybe?"

"Oh, yeah. Throw that in my face."

At her insistence, I rested on the sofa while she worked in her office, typing away on her laptop. She'd given me ibuprofen, which took the edge off my thumping head. In between watching TV and staring at her shapely back as she worked, I pondered what Austin would do next.

"Too bad we can't scare Rivers off like you did Bethany."

Lindsey turned her chair around. "Since I let him live, maybe he'll let it go," she said. "A good turn deserves a good turn."

"Except he won't think like that," I said. "He believes I owe him millions. Even if I had millions, I wouldn't give them to a low life like him."

"He has his life. He can make more money selling his dope. And leave us in peace."

"Like that'll happen."

***

I healed over the next few days, surfing the Internet for jobs while Lindsey worked. I sent in several applications, most offering more money than what I'd earned before. We both dealt with our respective insurance companies, and I asked for bids on repairs to my house. Lindsey's sent her a check and demanded she return the red rental.

She folded the check into her purse. "It's enough for a big down payment or enough to buy a cheaper car. What do you think?"

"Put it in the bank for now," I answered, kissing her cheek. "We'll decide down the road. We have my truck to get us around."

Lindsey led the way to the rental agency, who made her sign forms regarding the bullet holes. "It's fully insured," the agent told her with a half-smile. "What happened?"

"An old friend tried to kill me." Lindsey scribbled her signature on the papers.

His smile faded.

"Sorry about the holes."

I drove her to her bank where she deposited the check and tucked the receipt away. She climbed into the cab beside me.

"What now?"

"Home." I put the truck into drive and drove from the bank's parking lot. "I have a contractor coming to install the carpet. Think of this: move into my house when the work is done. Then you won't have to pay rent. Right? Our – your – money will last longer."

Lindsey nodded. "I'll e-mail the Pattersons. They'll be disappointed, but we have to do what's best for us."

I gripped her hand over the console. "Things will work out. I promise."

"I know they will."

***

Our lives returned to some semblance of normalcy. Lindsey worked long hours for those paychecks while I job hunted. When I didn't hunt, I packed her belongings and carried them next door to my house. I knew the neighbors watched from behind blinds and partially closed doors, but I didn't care. The carpet and drapes were replaced, the walls repainted, and no stink of smoke remained in my house.

I even had the driveway painted gray to cover the black stain where Rivers had burned my prized classic truck.

I gazed around at the lack of possessions in Lindsey's house, the nearly empty rooms. "Is the realtor putting this place on the market?"

"Yeah," Lindsey replied from her desk. "I got an e-mail from Mr. Patterson. Once we're out and the place cleaned, it'll be listed. I think they'll ask more than what they wanted me to pay."

"Good for them." I bent over her and kissed her neck. "They seem like very kind people."

"Yep. They are."

In time, we dismantled Lindsey's bed and reassembled it in my spare bedroom. When she commented on needing her home work place, I showed her the spacious finished basement.

"Cool in the summer, and I'll make sure it's warm in the winter," I said, hugging her. "If we have guests, we now have a guest room."

Lindsey gazed around the gray cement walls. "It needs some serious artwork down here. Carpet, a sound system, maybe a TV."

"Your wish is my command, m'lady."

Skinner dropped by without calling first, staring at the lack of boxes and furnishings in Lindsey's house. "Are you running away, girl?"

"Yep. To my man's place next door."

He grinned and kissed her cheek. "I'm happy for you."

"So what do you want?" I asked. "Have you caught Rivers?"

Skinner helped himself to a bottled water from the fridge and leaned against the counter. After a long pull, he shook his head.

"I came to tell you Bethany Byrd's been arrested. At the Nevada-California state line."

I exchanged a long look with Lindsey. Her expression carefully neutral, she commented, "That's been weeks to get from here to there. What took her so long?"

Skinner shrugged. "Maybe she took a sight-seeing trip. Who knows? Anyway, she was pulled over in the stolen Honda, was booked, and will be remanded into California's custody within days. She'll face charges of stealing the Ford pickup and her aggravated assault. Only then might we get her on stealing the Honda, but she'll be in prison for quite a while before that happens."

Lindsey sighed. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about her coming after me again. In case my scare I threw into her wore off."

"I'm sure that won't happen." Skinner studied her. "The detective in charge of her case told me something interesting."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Bethany won't say a word." Skinner smiled slightly, still watching Lindsey. "Not a damn thing. Wouldn't even offer her name, ask for an attorney, nothing. Now why is that?"

"She knows she guilty," Lindsey snapped. "Can we get her on stalking me, threatening my life? Attacking me, Brody? Chasing us across town?"

Lazily, Skinner drank his water. "Maybe. Have to have a chat with the DA on the possibility. Still, it'll be years before we get that chance. California gets her first."

"Too bad," I muttered. "She should pay for what she did here."

"She might. In time."

***

Lindsey finally moved in with me, her rental professionally cleaned and a realtor's sign in the front yard, and I settled into living in sin bliss. She worked in her new office while I went on job interviews, and the neighbors fumed at our contented happiness. I often caught several, including Shirley Gibbons, giving me the stink eye as I drove down the street.

"Piss off," I muttered, grinning as I flashed them my middle finger. "Nothing's happened for a month. And nothing will. So get a life already."

I grew complacent. Austin hadn't shown his face, caused any damage, threatened us, nor had he indicated in any way that he still craved vengeance. And his money. I began to believe he'd left town, set up shop somewhere else, and that Lindsey was right – he'd left with his life and was grateful for it.

Frowning as she climbed the stairs from the basement, Lindsey asked, "Can you call my cell? I can't find it."

"Sure."

Taking my phone from my pocket, I called it. From the master bedroom came Lindsey's distinctive ringtone. Swearing under her breath, she fetched it, then returned to the front room where I sat.

"Shit," she muttered, looking at it. "I missed two client calls."

"Hey, let's put that Find My Friend app on our phones," I suggested. "That way, we can find our phones if we lose them."

Lindsey shrugged. "Okay. Though I'll only lose mine in this house."

"So say you now."

***

Elated, I all but bounced from my truck and into the house, whistling under my breath. "Lindsey?" I called. "Guess what?"

Silence greeted me.

Unconcerned, as the basement shielded a great deal of noise, I thumped my way down the stairs. "Baby, I got a job. And it pays better than what –"

Lindsey didn't turn to smile at me, rise to hug and kiss me in congratulations. Her chair sat empty. Her desk also sat empty. Her laptop was open, the screen blank. Asleep. Her notes, her papers, all sat in organized piles. The way she always kept them.

I woke her computer. It opened to her writing project, the cursor blinking, ready for the next words. She wouldn't have just walked away. I gulped, my gut sinking. Sweat, despite the cool interior, popped from my pores.

"Lindsey."

Rivers.

I ran back upstairs, frantic, in a panic, searching for anything that would tell me what had happened to Lindsey. She's a dragon. He can't hold a dragon, even he isn't that stupid. She'll rip him a new asshole.

In the kitchen, I found all quiet, serene, scrupulously clean.

And a note on the fridge that hadn't been there before. I plucked it from under its magnet and read.

Brody. I have your girl. Bring me my two point five million in cash to a place and time I'll designate. You do this, you both go free.

You try to cheat me again, Lindsey's dead.