Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

F ive months later

Noel

Getting groceries for the normal person was easy or maybe a pain in the ass at worst. For me it meant sitting in my car for as much as fifteen minutes, staring out one of the windows toward the oppressive-looking building, trying my best to gather the courage to walk into the store and drop a few things into my basket.

No, I was no longer normal. The bastard known as the Claw had taken that away from me. But at least today, I'd had a little spring in my step, only remaining inside my Mazda for five minutes. That was a record. I'd also almost enjoyed picking out a couple of bottles of my favorite wine, tossing in a package of steaks and the biggest baking potatoes I could find. And salad material. Zoe and my other partner in crime, my part-time personal writing assistant, were coming over for dinner to celebrate a huge event.

Well, two of them.

The publication of my latest novel and the fact I was getting a picture of the dog who'd been selected for me. As long as the puppy finished the program with flying colors, which I heard he was doing, then the fur bucket would be in my house this time next week. I had to admit I was excited about both.

For the first time in a while, I'd really gotten into the book. I'd enjoyed writing the bad character more than normal, taking out my aggressions and continued anger and hatred on the horrible beast of a human by having my heroine blowing off his head in the end. She'd solved the crime and had eliminated her demons at the same time.

Good girl.

The girls were due at any time and I'd already prepared the salad, put the bread in the oven, and opened the wine to breathe. However, we were having a dirty martini first. What the hell? You only lived once and after putting the pedal to the metal in getting this book finished, I felt like I deserved something special.

I was even dancing a little in my kitchen when Zoe pulled up. In moving to Colorado, I'd found an amazing house near the mountains. The views were incredible, the frame-style house exactly what I'd dreamed of as a youthful author. I'd even pinned one that was remarkably similar to a vision board I'd created.

I'd always been a dreamer but when I'd started envisioning what I wanted out of being successful, the dreams had come true.

A sudden suffocating moment clamped clawed fingers around my throat, enough so I was forced to grip the edge of the counter. I'd almost given up writing altogether, the effect of being kidnapped and tormented for almost a week. If I hadn't written a bestseller, the odds were that the bastard wouldn't have targeted me.

Or used my terrifying scenarios as the backdrop to his horrific crime.

Another wave of self-doubt and hatred rushed in and I almost hyperventilated.

When the doorbell sounded, I jumped but was shot from the ugly haze. Fuck. The bastard still had a hold over me after all this time. Oh, I wanted nothing more than to track the horrible excuse for human flesh down myself since law enforcement hadn't been able to do it so far.

Instead, I threw my head back, trying to regain control of my mind and headed for the door, throwing it open.

"Darling. There you are," I said.

Zoe shoved a huge bag in my face, a grin popping on hers. "You're in a good mood. For. A. Change. Have you started on the happy juice?"

Laughing, I took the bag from her along with the bottle of wine she'd brought. "Not yet. But soon. I'm happy because the book is expected to shoot to number one by tomorrow. Woo-hoo!"

"You bitch. You live the life of luxury. Meanwhile, we mere mortals bask in your glory." She winked and closed the door behind her.

"Ha! You are a very prominent and respected attorney who can drive a foreign sports car, for God's sake. You have nothing to complain about."

"Okay, true. But you are in the stratosphere." Zoe did a little dance, which always made me laugh. "Something smells good."

"I made my famous brownies."

"Who kidnapped my best friend replacing her with a clone?"

I stopped short just long enough she sucked in her breath.

"Shit. I'm a fucking bitch. I'm so sorry."

"Oh, stop it. I'm not that sensitive." Yep, I was. I placed the items on my counter and glanced in the bag. She'd purchased things for my support dog. "Oh, you are such a delight." I pulled out the dog toys and sighed. "I haven't gotten anything yet. I guess I just worried that it wouldn't happen and I'd be disappointed."

"Nonsense. It is happening. Max is doing very well in the program and with his handler."

His handler. Lifting an eyebrow, I glanced in her direction as she slapped her hands over her mouth. Then I pointed my finger at her. "You told me you had no way of finding out anything about the pup lined up for me. You little liar."

"Darling, I do have my connections all over this state." She acted haughty, even rolling her eyes. She was such a drama queen.

"Uh-huh. You are one bad girl. Max, huh?"

"Yep. He's part Golden and part German Shepherd."

"Sounds… aggressive."

"No, he's acting more like his mother. The Golden." She smiled and sashayed into the kitchen. "Drinks?"

"You bet. One dirty martini coming up, baby." Max, huh? It was solid and easy to say. "You don't happen to have a picture of him on you, do you?"

"No, that I wasn't given. You'll see him very soon."

I headed for the drink shaker, adding the last necessary ingredient before putting in some ice and shaking. She gave me that look of hers, the one that indicated trouble. When she wagged her finger in front of my face, I sensed it was all about my lack of a sex life. I knew the girl far too well.

"So, that guy you met a couple weeks ago. Did you ever talk to him again? He sounded yummy to me and God knows you've become a nun. I think a hot night of sex is exactly what you need."

Exhaling, I glared at her. "If you mean the guy I almost ran into with my car in the parking lot of my psychiatrist's office, then, um, no. I doubt that's the best place to meet a hot guy unless you want a nutcase."

"Does that make you a nutcase?"

I tossed a kitchen towel at her. "You know exactly what I mean."

"Baby girl, nestled in the same small building as your shrink is a wealth management firm. Did you ever stop and think maybe, just maybe the guy was there to meet with his financial advisor and is fabulously wealthy?" Zoe was grinning because she was right.

And I hated her for it.

"No, I did not, thank you very much. My odds are never that good. Besides, while he did invite me out for a drink, he had those crazy eyes. You know the ones I mean."

"Oh, yes. You're an expert in crazy."

"I can't win with you. I will date. Eventually. Maybe."

"That's my point. Maybe you should hire an escort. Then at least you'll know he's safe and you can fuck him all night long without strings."

Coughing, I started laughing so hard tears filled my eyes. The woman could always put me in a better mood.

When I heard my phone ringing at the same time that I noticed Kathy pulling in, I pointed my finger at her again. "You get to finish making the drinks and let Kathy in while I take this."

"They'll be strong."

"What do you think a martini is, goofy?" I laughed and grabbed my purse from where it was hanging, pulling out my phone. I was halfway into my office before I glanced at the caller. The area code was Seattle.

I was forced to sit into my desk chair, convincing myself I needed to take the call even as a cold shiver drifted down my spine. "Hello?"

"Ms. Young, this is Detective Drake Finley. Do you remember me?"

"I'm not certain I could forget you, Detective. What can I do for you?" A cold shiver skated down my spine. If it hadn't been for his tenacious determination, I would be dead.

"How have you been?"

Was he really calling to ask me that? "Fine. Now, I'm in the middle of a dinner party so if you don't mind, please let me know why you're calling. As you might imagine, I want to put the past behind me and that's been tough."

"I'm sure it has. Maybe this will make things easier on you. James Jones has finally been captured."

My ears were ringing, my mind a foggy mess. "What did you say?"

As he repeated the news, I was certain I'd been pushed back into the Twilight Zone. For just a few seconds, a rolling horror movie of images flashed into my mind, the violence and anger, the look in the psycho's eyes and the way he touched me enwrapping me in the terror all over again. And for those few wretched moments, I was the lost woman who'd fought to remain alive, escaping the horrors that had been inflicted on her.

"He can't hurt you any longer, Ms. Young."

He had no understanding the bastard had already taken the kind of toll that could never be fixed.

"Thank you, Detective. I really appreciate you calling." I ended the call while he was still saying something, holding onto the phone and staring into space. I stood still for at least five minutes, doing what I could to process what I'd heard.

I was nauseous but giddy, uncertain but elated. Yet still terrified, as if the fucker's hold would never leave. A bead of perspiration trickled down the side of my face. A drink. Maybe a drink would help.

While I couldn't feel my feet, I knew I was walking from the room, the death grip remaining on my phone.

I stopped short of rejoining my friends as the final real vision I'd seen of the Claw rushed into the forefront of my mind.

"Just when you least expect it, I'll be there. And the next time you're in my arms, you will. Never. Ever. Escape."

No. Fucking no. The bastard wasn't going to take any more of me than he already had. I refused to allow it. With my head held high, I moved into the area just beyond the kitchen, where my two best friends, women who'd cried with me, celebrated with me, held me when I'd had night terrors, and shared dozens of bottles of wine over the years stood laughing and chatting.

When Zoe finally noticed me, she almost dropped her glass. "Oh, my God. What's wrong? You're white." She walked closer and so did I. I shifted my gaze to Kathy, the girl who'd stuck a stick under my ass every time I'd wanted to give up writing, reminding me that the moment I threw in the towel, James Jones had won the evil game he'd been playing. Thank God I'd hired her as an assistant.

"Hey, girlfriend," as Kathy liked to call me. "Talk. Come on. This is supposed to be a celebration."

"We can add something to the list."

Zoe glanced at Kathy before both walked closer, Zoe handing me my martini glass. I wasn't a heavy drinker even though at times I'd wanted to get lost in a bottle but at that moment, I didn't give a shit if I was criticized. I downed the entire drink in a few gulps. When I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, I was certain Zoe was going to fall over.

"Okay, girlfriend. If you don't spill it, I will never speak to you again." Zoe's tease almost always worked.

I looked from one to the other. "The detective who found me that night in the woods in the horrible storm called."

Kathy swallowed, her face now paling. "And?"

"He told me that James Jones had been tracked down and captured. He's currently in custody in lockdown. He said the nightmare is finally over." The man had easily gotten away with his crimes, hiding in another part of the world. He was the true epitome of a sociopath, blending in and even thriving in normal society.

"Oh, my God," Zoe squealed. "Amazing."

"Yes, it is."

I wanted to jump up and down for joy, to shout out to the world I could finally live my life without looking over my shoulder, but something in the back of my mind pinged at me over and over again.

The nightmare wasn't over.

It was simply a new chapter ready to begin.

And this time, I wouldn't survive…

Kage

Five months.

It was difficult to fathom. I'd been a broken shell of a man when Max had been dropped into my life. I hadn't cared about anything or anyone and I sure as shit hadn't wanted to take care of another living being.

"Hey, Kage. Congrats. I heard the news." Captain Jack, as the inmates had come to call him, was the longest serving inmate in the prison. He was old and wise, still dangerous, and if he wanted you dead, you were a corpse within twenty-four hours. I'd been on his shit list more than once, certain my life was about to end. He was one bad dude I wouldn't have fought off.

The moment the guy had met Max, our entire relationship had changed. Captain Jack had ensured I'd had everything I'd needed to complete the training and survive in the hellhole, including a constant set of tennis balls.

As he approached, his eyes no longer twinkling because of the cataracts, he pulled out a fresh tennis ball from his pocket, tossing it across the yard. Max didn't whine, didn't pull on the leash. He simply waited for my command as he'd been trained.

"Go!"

As Max ran off happily, I approached the man. As always, four burly guys remained right behind him, prepared to intervene and attack anyone if necessary. That included the guards, who were terrified of him. Even the warden, the chicken shit that he was, never bothered the man. Inside the joint, Captain Jack was king.

He slowly stood, holding out his arm for a handshake, something else he never did. I accepted the gesture without question. I wasn't some fucking fool.

"Which part?" I asked.

"Both."

"Parole isn't a sure thing. They just granted me a parole hearing and that's almost three weeks away. You know as well as I do shit can go south in a fucking heartbeat."

He grinned. "You have little faith, kid. I do know. I have it under excellent authority you're getting the fuck out of here."

I glanced at him, half laughing. Why should I feel any surprise that not only did he already know the outcome, but he'd also pushed to the point of ensuring it would happen. "Why?"

He took a deep breath and watched Max as other inmates petted my sweet boy for the last time. "Son, you've got a lot to learn. You're the smartest in the joint by far, brilliant in truth. You got handed a raw deal and you fell into the shit, soaking it up. I noticed a change in you the moment that pup came into your life. I said to myself, that boy deserves one last chance. One. I don't say that shit about any man ‘cause it ain't true. If you're inside here, you don't deserve to breathe the same air as decent people. You hear what I'm saying?" He slowly turned his head, studying me intently.

"Yes, sir."

His grin was wider than normal because while he demanded respect, very few gave it to him willingly. "I knew I was right about you. Now, you gotta promise me something."

"Anything."

"You'll get your shit together. You get another dog as your lifelong companion and you'll forget about this place. If I see you back here, I will have you killed."

His admittance was a first and I believed him. "Yes, sir. You won't see this ugly mug again."

I would rather die first.

Graduation.

High school and college. I'd been blessed in my life to have two of those events where it was celebrated, treated as adding another golden layer onto the pathway of my life.

Sadly, my life had turned to shit.

But this sunny day was special to me, much more so than the other two had been. I had one arm wrapped around Max as he waited his turn, proud of the amazing pup and what we'd both been able to accomplish. However, the moment was horribly bittersweet. I'd slept with the beautiful boy, fed him, walked him in a yard I tried to avoid for years, trained him, and watched him finally thrive from the care given by someone who truly loved him.

And I did.

I'd thought love would never be possible again but with Max, everything was easy.

Losing him would be one of the hardest things I had to endure. And I'd had my share of tragedies.

At least I could reflect on the months spent together, the joy I'd had in the little things and accomplishments we'd achieved together with adoration in my heart. Max was the bestest boy. I buried my head into his fur, trying not to become emotional. When he lifted his face, his eyes as imploring as on the first day when he'd been so hopeful of finding his person, my heart ached so much I wasn't certain I could do this.

But he gave me a reassuring lick, a rarity given his strict training. He was offering me reassurance that he wouldn't forget me and that he'd be alright.

"And our final graduate of the day," Warden Carter said from behind his podium, "is Max and his handler Kage Bronson."

As the audience of maybe fifty started to clap, it realized how funny and ironic it was to me that some of the same guards who'd done everything in their power to make my life miserable inside the hellhole were clapping. The only people's accolades that mattered to me were Dr. Daniels and my sister Thalia, who'd defied my wishes and my father's orders not to come see me under any circumstances.

She had tears in her eyes, clapping and cheering the loudest.

As I rose to my full height, Max peered up at me as always, looking for direction. All I had to do was nod so he walked forward to collect the medal other dogs had received, the certification that would be put in my hands.

For all the bad shit I'd done in my life, the murders that I'd committed in the name of a man who couldn't give a shit about anyone but himself, I felt a sense of pride for the first time in so long.

It felt damn good.

I refused to lose the feeling ever again.

And maybe, just maybe one day I'd be able to see the dog I'd fallen head over heels in love with once again.