Nothing Between Us

  Colby sighed. “I know. And it’s hard putting faith in our justice system—especially when it comes to a sociopath who has a lot of money and legal knowledge.”

  “That’s like putting faith in fucking roulette,” Keats complained. “Maybe we should just go to Chicago and hunt that bastard down ourselves. Accidentally run him over with your truck. Oops, sorry, motherfucker, good luck in hell.”

  Colby snorted. But then got quiet. Thinking . . .

  Keats nudged him in the side. “Okay, you know I wasn’t serious, right?”

  Colby tapped his fingers along his sternum, thinking, thinking, thinking. How hard would it be to make a trip to Chicago and draw Phillip out? If the guy was so fixated on Georgia, knowing she was seeing someone else could drive him to the brink again. If Colby could get him to try something, set him up, maybe he could get the guy caught in the act.

  But before he could open his mouth to share his thoughts with Keats, there was a loud banging at the door.

  “What the fuck?” Colby said, pushing up on his elbows and peering at the time. Past midnight.

  “Want me to go?” Keats asked, sitting up.

  “Nah, I got it.” Colby swung his legs to the side of the bed and reached down for his discarded pants and shirt. He stood and tugged both on. The banging came again. “Goddammit. I’m coming.”

  He headed into the hallway and strode toward the front door, his body prickling with worry. Midnight house calls were never a good thing. The last one he’d gotten was when he’d been notified his brother had been arrested. He didn’t turn on any lights to alert anyone he was home. If the face on the other side of the door wasn’t a cop, a firefighter, or a friend, the door wasn’t getting opened.

  But when he peered through the peephole, he went for the lock instantly. He swung the door open. “Georgia?”

  She shook her head and tears leaked out her eyes.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  But before she could answer, he heard the gun cock. A man stepped out of the shadows from behind her. “Better let us in, baby.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  Georgia couldn’t stop shaking as she crossed the threshold into Colby’s house, Phillip’s gun at her back. Her panic was pounding at the doors, trying to break through, but she forced her breathing to stay steady. She couldn’t risk passing out right now. No way was she leaving Phillip alone with the guys. She’d done everything she could to persuade him not to come over here. But he’d been watching and waiting. As always, he’d done his homework.

  At some point in the last month, he’d broken into Leesha’s office and had gotten Georgia’s information. And he’d sent a private investigator down to Texas to see what Georgia was up to. Georgia could imagine exactly how Phillip had reacted when he saw a photo of her with another man. He wouldn’t have been able to get it out of his mind. And clearly, he hadn’t been able to resist the need to come down here and take care of it.

  Because he knew how to take care of these things.

  He was going to make her watch while he killed the two men she loved.

  Colby backed up, hands out to his sides but his eyes trained on the man behind her. “Let her go, Phillip. I know you don’t want to hurt her.”

  Colby’s voice was strong and forceful, and she knew he was trying to alert Keats, who had to be somewhere in the house. His bike was outside. But Keats stepped out from the hallway a moment later, unaware of what he was walking into.

  “Stop right there, asshole,” Phillip called to Keats, shifting to Georgia’s side and aiming the gun at Colby. “I’d hate to accidentally pull the trigger.”

  Keats lifted his hands, his shocked gaze flicking to Georgia’s.

  Phillip gripped the back of her neck. It was a place Colby often held her, and she hated Phillip touching her like he owned her. He squeezed tight. “Don’t you see what’s going on?”

  “Please let us go,” she pleaded. “You don’t need to do this. Please.”

  “No!” he roared, shaking Georgia like a dog shaking a rag toy. “I need you to see. Open your eyes and look at what’s going on here, sweetheart.” He said the last word with a cloying, whiny tone. “This scum you’re giving yourself to cares about you so much that when you’re not around, he’s sticking his dick in whatever hole he can find.”

  Georgia’s teeth rattled in her head from the shake. But she’d registered enough of what Phillip had said to realize he hadn’t put it together that Georgia had been seeing both Colby and Keats. Phillip thought he was uncovering her cheating boyfriend. So his hatred was going to be directed at one person. Colby would be his target.

  “I didn’t know,” she whispered, scrambling to get him calm. “You were right. I should’ve never dated someone else.”

  “You let him disrespect you, Georgia,” he said, seething. “All that I’ve done for you. All that I was willing to give you, and you let some redneck cocksucker in your bed. What is wrong with you?”

  She could see what it was doing to Colby and Keats, to see her treated this way, but she prayed they wouldn’t do anything stupid. If they made one move, Phillip wouldn’t hesitate to kill them.

  “I’m sorry, Phil,” she said in her most placating voice. “I needed to take a break. I needed to get some perspective. I wasn’t ready for a commitment yet. You deserved more than I could give you.” The words made bile rise in the back of her throat, but she pushed past it and kept talking, frantic. “But if you hurt them, you’ll go to jail for good. There’ll be no way to hide it. And we’ll never be together. I know what you did before was just to show me how much you wanted to protect me. But you don’t need to protect me from these guys. It was just a fling. I was using Colby. We can leave and go back home now. I won’t testify in the case, and we can be together. No one has to know you came down here.”

  Phillip’s hold on her neck softened ever so slightly, and he gave her a narrow-eyed look. “How do I know you mean any of that? You’ve lied to me before.”

  She blinked rapidly, searching for something, anything that would keep his focus on her. “I can show you.”

  His gun arm wavered a bit. “How?”

  “Colby has . . . restraints. We can tie these two up and then go to the bedroom.” She fought hard to keep her voice from shaking. “It’s been so long since you’ve touched me. Let me show you that I mean it.”

  The flare of interest in his eyes was hard to miss. “Now you’re talking some sense, sweetheart.” He ran a knuckle over her cheek with his free hand. “And won’t it be fun to let these two watch while I show them how a real man takes care of his woman?”

  Colby made some low noise deep in his chest, but she forced herself not to look his way. She wet her lips in what she hoped was a provocative way. “I’ll help you tie them up.”

  Phillip released her neck, his eyes on her but his gun still aimed at Colby. “Take off your clothes, sweetheart. I want to trust you, but I also want to make sure you don’t try to do something stupid like run.”

  Panic welled up in her gut, but she wouldn’t let it take hold. If she gave in to that now, she had no shot. “Of course. Whatever you want.”

  She moved slowly so as not to startle the dude with the gun and tugged her T-shirt and sleep shorts off.

  “Panties, too,” Phillip said, his voice dropping lower.

  Working hard to keep her hands from shaking, she pushed her panties down and off. She knew when she looked up again that this was her best chance. Phillip was getting aroused. And an aroused man was a distracted one. She gave him her best come-hither smile. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

  “Lead the way, love.” He waved the gun at Colby and his voice hardened. “Follow her. Try anything or touch her and it’s a bullet in the back.”

  Georgia could tell it was taking everything each man had for Keats and Colby to obey Phillip, but she sent them both pleading looks
that she hoped conveyed that she needed them to play along.

  They all filed into the bedroom, and it was clear that Colby and Keats had definitely had a fun night. Cut rope was on the floor and a riding crop was on the top of the dresser. The sheets were in a tangle. A pang of sadness went through her that she hadn’t been part of it. That she’d shut them out.

  “Jesus Christ,” Phillip said, taking in the scene. He waved the gun at Colby and Keats. “On your knees, hands where I can see them.”

  The men obeyed but not without shooting Phillip death glares. Please, please don’t try to be a hero. That was the plea she tried to channel their way over and over again. Phillip was expecting the guys to try something. He probably wanted them to try just to make it more fun to kill them. The guys had to play along or they were all done.

  If there was any chance at getting out of this, it was up to her. She was the only one Phillip had a hair of trust in. She went to Colby’s chest of drawers and pulled out handcuffs. “These should work, right?”

  “Are there two sets?”

  “Yes.”

  “Cuff them with their arms behind their backs.”

  Revulsion filled her at the sound of Phillip giving her orders. Revulsion and resolve. He didn’t have that privilege. For the last year, her whole life had been a daily fight, trying to fix the things Phillip had broken in her. And right when she was getting her feet under her and her confidence back, he was going to waltz in here and act like he had a right to her, had a right to hurt the people she cared about? Fuck. Him. She wasn’t going to let him do this to her again.

  By the time she made her way over to Colby and Keats, her hands were steady. She kneeled down next to them. “Give me your hands.”

  Both followed her directions but Colby peered back over his shoulder, whispering. “Don’t do this. These don’t have a release. We can’t get out without the key.”

  She gave a slight shake of her head. Don’t talk.

  The cuffs snapped in place, securing both of them.

  Phillip stalked over and gave the chains a tug. “The real police issue stuff, huh? Sick fuckers. Give me that rope. I want to make sure these two don’t try anything.”

  Georgia stood, and she schooled her expression into one of cool calm, despite the frantic, careening thoughts in her head. She pictured herself that first night she’d walked over to Colby’s house. I am in control of my body. She headed over to the discarded rope. It’d been sliced open—like Colby had been in a rush to get Keats untied—but there was enough length to make it work for Phillip’s needs. She rubbed her thumb over the frayed edges of the cut ends before handing it over to Phillip.

  “While you’re doing that, why don’t I get the bed cleared off?” she suggested.

  He flicked the barrel of the gun her way. “Strip it to the mattress.”

  Phillip tucked the gun in his waistband and went to work tying the men’s ankles and looping rope through the cuffs. This would be her only chance.

  She put her back to them, busying one hand with tugging off the sheets. With the other, she opened Colby’s bedside drawer, praying she hadn’t misheard him that first night they’d spent in his room. And praying Colby hadn’t left it somewhere else tonight.

  “Something wrong, sweetheart?” Phillip said, his voice too close.

  She jumped, balling her hands in the sheets. “Fine.”

  He stepped closer and peered over her shoulder into the open drawer, which contained a TV remote, a novel, and condoms. Phillip gave a low laugh. “We won’t be needing those.”

  “I’m not on the pill anymore,” she lied.

  He kissed the side of her neck. “Good. I’d love to have my baby growing inside you.”

  The shudder that went through her couldn’t be stopped, but Phillip must’ve read it as anticipation instead of abject terror. Fucking sociopath.

  He trailed kisses down along her shoulder and she felt the gun, still tucked in his pants, press against her spine with cold certainty. His hands wrapped around her and cupped her breasts. She gritted her teeth and tried to shut her body off from connecting to her brain. This wasn’t happening to her. Phillip wasn’t touching her. That wasn’t what she needed to focus on.

  She took a deep breath. “Kiss me.”

  He made a pleased sound behind her. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that. Turn around, sweetheart.”

  She spun around slowly, still gripping the sheets in her hands, and he pulled the gun out of his waistband. He set it in the drawer behind her and closed it. “We don’t need to worry about that ugliness for now. Come here.”

  He gathered her to him and his dry lips met hers. She waited until he closed his eyes, which seemed to be the longest second of her life, and then she dropped the sheets and wound her arms around his waist. His tongue parted her lips, and he took her face in his hands. He tasted of cinnamon gum. He’d always tasted of cinnamon gum.

  She remembered his breath on her that day in the kitchen. Remembered what happened afterward. Remembered giving the eulogy at her sister’s funeral. She ground her hips against him, making soft, sexy sounds, and hit the button on the switchblade.

  Phillip’s body stiffened for a fraction of a second before she drew her hand back and jabbed with every bit of strength she had. The blade went into his lower back clean. And the scream that came out of him landed half on her lips.

  “You fucking bitch!” he shouted, reaching for the point of entry with a crazed swipe of his arm.

  She shoved him hard, getting some space between them, and lunged for the drawer. The knife had stayed lodged in his back when he’d jerked away from her, but there was something more effective she was after. The gun wasn’t like the one she practiced with at the range in Chicago. It was heavier, bigger, and had some silencer thing screwed on the end. But she turned around, channeling everything she’d been through, everyone she’d lost, and aimed it right at Phillip.

  His fingers were covered with blood, and he had the knife in his hands. He stumbled toward her, cold rage in his eyes.

  It was the thing of her nightmares. The vision that had spawned so many panic attacks she’d lost count. Phillip was going to finally kill her. He would win.

  He took another step.

  She squeezed the trigger.

  The gun didn’t make a sound, but the body hitting the floor certainly did.

  She crumpled to her knees and finally allowed the panic attack to roll over her.

  FORTY

  Leesha buzzed around Georgia’s house with a notepad in her hands and a look of consternation on her face. “Is this TV stand yours?”

  “No, it was here when I moved in,” Georgia said from her spot on the couch.

  Leesha checked off something on her notepad and then pulled a roll of stickers from her pocket. She tagged the TV stand with a blue dot, which Georgia assumed meant do not pack for the movers.

  “If you give me that roll of stickers, I can help, you know.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  Georgia sighed in frustration. Leesha had insisted that Georgia relax, that she’d take care of everything, but it was driving Georgia a little crazy to be forced into sitting still.

  A week had gone by since she’d shot Phillip in Colby’s bedroom. The scene still played over in her head every night when she tried to go to sleep. But she tried to chase away the nightmares by reminding herself that Phillip couldn’t hurt her or anyone else anymore. She was free. Finally.

  But she’d killed a man to get there. Part of that stained her conscience, even though she knew he was a murderer and would’ve killed her or one of the guys without a bit of remorse. She didn’t think any normal person could take someone else’s life and not be affected by that. And it seemed people were giving her space or treating her with kid gloves because of it. Leesha, her parents when they flew in to see Ge
orgia the day after, and the boys across the way.

  She’d spent a long night in the police station with Colby and Keats after everything had happened. They’d gone through endless interviews while the cops tried to put together exactly what had happened. She’d never been offered coffee so much in her life. It was as if that were all anyone could come up with to do for her. More coffee, hon?

  All the while the cops were offering it to her, though, she knew they were trying to determine if she’d killed Phillip in cold blood, especially when they’d realized she, Colby, and Keats were all in some sort of relationship. She could already see the headlines in her head: In an erotic-crazed night, three people took out a scorned lover in an elaborate plan.

  But when the local cops talked to the police in Chicago, the focus had shifted. Phillip hadn’t been so careful on his way out of town since he hadn’t planned to return. He’d purchased the gun illegally from a police informant. And yesterday, he’d emptied out his savings and had bought a used car with cash.

  When the locals searched Phillip’s vehicle, things became even clearer. He had a notebook detailing all of Georgia’s activity from back when she was in Chicago through now. The most recent entries had stopped using her name and referred to her as the whore or the ungrateful bitch. Colby was labeled as the cocksucker. And beneath the liner of the car’s trunk was a bag of cash and two fake passports—one with Georgia’s picture on it. All evidence pointed in one direction. Phillip had come down to kidnap Georgia and escape across the border. The police concluded that it was enough to show that Georgia had acted in self-defense. Plus, based on Keats’s and Colby’s separate statements, it was clear Phillip had forced his way into Colby’s home, which in Texas gave the occupants the right to use deadly force.

  They’d released all three of them around lunchtime the next day.

  She’d been numb and shell-shocked still. And the guys had seemed to sense that she didn’t want to talk about it. When they’d gotten into the back of the cop car for the ride home, Colby had put his arm gingerly around her, offering support if she wanted it, and he’d whispered, “You saved all of our lives. I’ve never seen anyone be so brave.”