Love or Die (Book 1: Live, Love, and Die Series)

  "I love you. Please be careful on your way home," she wrapped her arms around Miranda.

  Miranda squeezed her back, "I love you too. Thanks for letting us come down."

  "You know you are welcome anytime," Brooke smiled sweetly then stepped away so Miranda could shut the door. As Miranda backed down the driveway, Brooke waved until the car was out of sight.

  Miranda turned up the radio and watched in her rearview mirror as Elizabeth bobbed her head to the radio. She knew that within minutes the baby would be asleep. She tried to keep her mind clear as she mouthed the words to her favorite song.

  Her cell phone, laying in the seat beside her, sounded the alarm for a text. Not recognizing the number, she reached over and looked at the text. "Thinking of you- Zach". She frowned in frustration. This man is incorrigible! Out of the blue, a giggle escaped her lips. He is clever. I told him not to call, come by, or send flowers. He didn't do any of those things. She laid the cell phone back on the passenger seat, refusing to encourage him further by replying to his text.

  About halfway home, she decided to stop and grab a cup of coffee. She hated to wake Elizabeth by dragging her out of the car, but she could feel herself getting groggy. The past week had been exceedingly stressful. Even after her day of sleep, she still felt exhausted. She would much rather wake the baby than fall asleep at the wheel.

  She reached in and gingerly pulled Elizabeth from her car seat. The baby wrapped her legs around her, and leaned her head on her shoulder. I might just be able to pull this off. She walked into the dingy little gas station and made her way to the coffee pot. Suddenly, Elizabeth yawned and rubbed her eyes. Seeing she was awake, she went ahead and set the baby down so she could pour her coffee. She smiled to herself as Elizabeth toddled over to the cookies. Isn't she too young to beg? When Elizabeth let out a squeal and grabbed a box of animal crackers, she realized that the begging would start early. She wandered over to Elizabeth, took her empty hand, and escorted her to the cashier.

  After she had paid for their purchases, she picked up Elizabeth, who held her cookies with both hands, and walked out to the car. As she opened the back door, she noticed something wrong. Elizabeth's car seat was thrown across the other side of the car. She stepped back quickly and scanned the interior of the car. The glove box was open and papers were strewn everywhere. The front seats were pushed forward. Elizabeth's diaper bag had been emptied in the floorboard. Miranda slammed the door and ran back inside the store.

  "Did you see anyone in my car?" Miranda asked the clerk, frantically.

  The clerk raised her head from the Sunday newspaper spread across the counter and blinked slowly, "No, I didn't see anything."

  Miranda raised her voice, "Someone was in my car! My stuff is scattered everywhere!"

  "Is anything missing?" The cashier seemed to look right through Miranda.

  "I don't know. That's not the point!" Miranda slammed her fist on the counter in frustration. Elizabeth began to cry.

  "Look, lady, I'm paid to watch inside the store. I don't know what goes on out there. If something's missing, we'll call the cops. If not, keep driving," she popped her gum and went back to her newspaper, ending the discussion.

  Miranda grabbed her daughter's hand and walked back to the car. She peered in the windows, but didn't see anything missing. Thankfully, the rest of her things were in the trunk, and she had stuck her cell phone in her back pocket before she went inside.

  She put Elizabeth back in her seat, got in the front, and deliberately locked the doors. She laid her head on the steering wheel for a moment to catch her breath. When she had calmed down, she continued on her way home.

  Thankfully, she had left early enough so that she got home in the middle of the afternoon. After the incident at the gas station, she certainly didn't feel comfortable going into her apartment after dark. She gently pulled her sleeping baby from her car seat and walked to her apartment. She unlocked the door, went inside, and laid Elizabeth in her crib. She left the front door open as she walked across the yard to grab the rest of her luggage and haul it back to the apartment. As Miranda headed to her room, she glanced in the kitchen. On the table, a clear vase held three wilted magnolias. The vase had not been there before she left for Abilene.

  In the back of her mind, she heard the crash as she dropped her bags to the floor. Very slowly, as if approaching dynamite, she walked to the table. Without touching them, she searched for a card, but there was none. The magnolias were interesting. Each petal was tinged with black along the edge, forming the image of life and death in her mind. Miranda shivered and backed away slowly.

  She turned and ran from the room, grabbed Elizabeth from her crib and ran to Carolyn. She opened the door before Miranda had caught her breath. She stood on the porch, heaving. Carolyn took Elizabeth and put an arm around Miranda's waist to lead her inside.

  "Flowers," Miranda panted as she sat down heavily on the couch.

  Carolyn hugged Elizabeth and set her down, swatting her bottom, and calling for Lacey. "Aren't they beautiful? I've never seen anything like them."

  Miranda sagged on the couch, "Who are they from?"

  "I was hoping you would tell me. Earlier today, some man walked to your door carrying the vase. I went over and asked if I could take them. He handed them over and walked away. I took them inside and set them on your kitchen table so you would see them."

  Miranda frowned in concentration, "Was it Zach? Or I guess you know him as Dr. Shannon."

  "No. I had never seen this guy before. He wasn't from a florist or anything. He didn't have a name tag, and the florists aren't open today."

  "Give me a second," she frowned again. She flipped out her cell phone, found the earlier text and replied. "I told you not to send any more flowers."

  She waited for a moment then read the reply, "I didn't send flowers. -Zach."

  She slid her phone back in her pocket. "What did the guy look like?"

  Carolyn shrugged, "He was a tall guy with blondish hair and dark blue eyes. He was handsome, but he gave me a creepy feeling. Thankfully, he left pretty quickly after I took the flowers."

  "I guess you have more than one admirer," Carolyn grinned. "Now tell me about your week."

  "Only if you have some coffee," Miranda pulled herself from the couch and followed Carolyn to the kitchen. Her head throbbed with unanswered questions.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning, as Miranda walked off the elevator into her suite of offices, Emily greeted her with her usual vitality.

  "Miranda! I'm so glad you're back. How was your week? How is Brooke?"

  Miranda smiled, "It was nice, thank you."

  "Did anything exciting happen?" Emily beamed at her with a mischievous grin.

  "That reminds me, we need to talk about you telling people where I am and giving out my phone number," she glared pointedly.

  Emily slumped her shoulders, seemingly disappointed that her plan didn't work as expected, "It wasn't just anybody. It was Zach."

  "It's ok. Just don't do it again please," she replied softly. "So what do we have on the schedule for today?"

  "Mr. Corbin will be here in ten minutes. You have a lunch meeting, and here are your messages."

  "Thank you, Emily. Oh by the way, I'll have to show you some of the things that Brooke and I found for your wedding."

  Emily perked immediately, "Oh I can't wait!"

  Miranda walked into the conference room as if she were walking into a den of lions. Mr. Corbin stood right inside the door, ready to pounce.

  "Mr. Corbin, how are you this morning?"

  "Miranda, I'm wonderful now that I've seen such a beautiful sight." He took her outstretched hand and kissed it delicately while staring into her eyes.

  The kiss sent shivers down her back, and she had to swallow the bile rising in her throat. She pointed to a seat across the table, "Shall we sit? I have the results of Jake's tests."

  Ignoring her direction, he sat right beside her, invading her
space. She scooted her chair away, trying to gain some room so she could breathe.

  Leaning forward, his dark eyes flashed, "I didn't come here today to talk about Jake. Your assistant gave me all the information I need. I came here to see you."

  Miranda stood and straightened, "I'm sorry Mr. Corbin, but I really don't have time today. I've been gone for a few days, and I have some catching up to do." She backed away towards the door.

  He reached out and caught her arm. She sensed anger restrained within his grasp. His eyes flashed, "I know you've been away. Now you are back, and I want to see you." He pulled her back towards the table and placed her in a chair. A grin swept across his face, replacing the anger she had seen a moment ago. "Down to business. I have reservations for this evening at lovely little Italian restaurant."

  Miranda coolly replied, "I'm glad you have plans, but they don’t involve me."

  "My sweet girl, they do involve you. You will be accompanying me. If you can give an evening to that quack, you can give the same to me," he raised his eyebrows, studying her reaction.

  "How do you know about that?" her mind raced with the images of her evening with Zach.

  "I have my ways. Believe me. You don't want to play games with me. I can make your life miserable," he grinned devilishly.

  Miranda's stomach shook with revulsion and fear. Forcing a cold glare, she stared for a moment before replying, "You don’t scare me. You have nothing on me, and the only thing I feel for you is pity."

  "We'll see, my dear. We will see." He stood and walked out of the door.

  Miranda sat there for a moment, stunned.

  Miranda was sitting at her desk going through emails when Emily knocked on the door. "It's open."

  Emily stuck her head around the door, "Your lunch date is here."

  "Date? I thought you said it was a lunch meeting."

  Emily smiled sheepishly and retreated before Miranda could back out.

  When Miranda emerged from her office, she saw Zach standing by Emily's desk animatedly telling a story, causing Emily to giggle hysterically. By the time Miranda reached the desk, Emily was clutching her sides, barely able to catch her breath.

  "Hello, Miranda. You look beautiful."

  "Zach, I thought I told you not to come by," Miranda pursed her lips and tried to ignore Emily as she stifled her laughter.

  Zach grinned, "You said not to come by. You didn't say I couldn't make an appointment."

  "You are simply playing with semantics," she replied.

  He grinned at her, "If that is not reason enough, I received a phone call from your sister. It seems that I have been put in charge of making sure you eat. Apparently, you get busy and forget. So you see, I'm simply fulfilling my duty." He smiled and spread his hands as if submitting to some higher force.

  She shot a look at Emily, who was beaming with pleasure. "And I assume you had something to do with that too?" Emily giggled with the exhilaration of playing matchmaker.

  "Fine. Since you do have an appointment, and we have to obey my interfering sister, I will oblige this time." Turning to Emily, she hissed, "You and I will discuss this later."

  She grabbed her purse and followed him out of the building.

  Chapter 13

  As they walked out of the building, the July heat radiated off the pavement. Miranda grabbed a clip from her bag and tied up her hair. By the time they reached the sports bar at the end of the block, her white silk blouse clung to her body. Casting a glance at Zach, she could see beads of sweat glistening in the dip of his throat. Images of the bulging pecs that swelled beneath his tight black t-shirt flashed through her mind. She allowed the picture to travel down to the washboard abs rippling down to a thin trail of hair that lead to the top of his jeans. What am I doing? She shook the thoughts from her head and allowed him to open the door for her.

  They found seats in a corner booth. Miranda looked around the small dining room. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the minimal lighting after coming in from the harsh, roasting sunshine. She had never been here before, but she found it quite charming. Sports memorabilia and beer signs covered the walls. The smell of grilled onions filled the air. She sighed with relief as the coolness swept over her body.

  When the waitress arrived, they ordered cheeseburgers and beer then sat in silence for a few minutes.

  "So how has your day been so far?"

  Miranda shook her head, "I don't want to talk about it."

  "What would you like to talk about?"

  She looked at him questioningly, "What were telling Emily that had her so giggly?"

  He smiled at her, "I have been telling her some stories about my brother. She has to know what she's getting into." He flashed a wicked grin.

  Without thinking, she smiled; amazed at the way his face lit up when he was happy. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

  "Tell me. I need to hear something funny today."

  "He would kill me if he knew I was telling you guys this," he grinned unapologetically. "When we were in junior high, he decided he wanted to impress a girl. She loved glam rock, and he decided that the best way to get her attention would be to convince her that he had his own band. Now, the boy couldn't play any instrument, and he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. That didn't deter him. He found our dad's old guitar and borrowed Mom's makeup and hairspray." Zach chuckled at the memory. "The next morning, he walked into school with his hair sticking up everywhere, full glam makeup all over his face, carrying his guitar. Everyone stared as he walked up to the girl. He proceeded to bang the guitar and scream Pour Some Sugar on Me."

  Miranda stared at him wide-eyed, "Did it work?"

  "Believe it or not, it did. I don't know if she agreed to go out with him because she was impressed, she took mercy on him, or she just wanted it to stop. She said yes, and they went out for several months."

  She giggled and shook her head.

  "That's not the worst part," he paused, deciding whether he wanted to share the next part. "Since his outrageousness worked for him, I decided I would try it. Only, instead of a rocker, I decided to be a French poet." He nodded, acknowledging his bad mistake. "My girl loved poetry and all things French. So, I went to the store and grabbed a beret. Then, I wrote several poems. Of course, I didn't know fine poetry from Roses are Red or Dr. Seuss. I tried a few times, but gave up pretty quickly. I found a poetry book of my mom's and copied How Do I Love Thee. I walked up and down the hallways at school, wearing my beret and quoting the only poem I knew. I thought I was on a roll until the literature teacher let me know that she was proud of me for memorizing such a famous poem."

  She laughed and leaned forward, "So did you get your girl?"

  "Yeah, I think she gave into me for the same reasons. Then she asked me to stop wearing the beret and speaking with a French accent while quoting American poetry. She knew I was from Oklahoma."

  His laughter was contagious as he continued to tell her of his childhood antics. By the time their food had arrived, she had laughed hard enough that her sides hurt.

  He gazed at her across the table, "I love to see you smile. I want to make you smile more often."

  Her laughter faded and was replaced by a rueful smile. She concentrated on her food to avoid further serious conversation. Picking up on her sudden change, Zach began to relate another story. Her relief was evident on her face until a familiar voice at her side drew her attention.

  "So the good doctor is slumming, is he?"

  Miranda looked up to see Lee Corbin standing at her side, sneering at Zach.

  "Mr. Corbin, please leave," she stated firmly while wearing a ferocious glare.

  Zach stood, his body flexing with anger and restraint, "I would suggest that you leave immediately."

  Miranda flinched. She recognized the look of rage on Zach's face.

  "Oh, come on. You don't want me to leave yet, at least not until I've told you a few things about our lovely lady here." He glanced at her maliciously and continued. "Did s
he tell you that she's like a dead fish in bed?"

  Miranda gasped in shock and horror.

  His eyes gleamed with delight, "It's not like you haven't heard the phrase before. You have, haven't you?"

  She swallowed loudly as she remembered the words being spoken on a nightly basis for two years.

  "This is your last warning, Corbin. Shut your mouth and leave!"

  By this time, several eyes around the restaurant had turned to seek out the cause of the disturbance.

  "But I'm not quite done." He turned his angry stare back to Zach, "Besides being frigid, if you leave the lights on, you'll wish you hadn't. She's horribly scarred from an unfortunate accident and a c-section surgery. It's really rather disgusting." He paused, looked at the ceiling as though trying to find the words, "It's like opening a present on Christmas morning, only to find a broken toy."

  Zach leaped forward over the table and grabbed Corbin by the lapels of his jacket. His face was red and the veins in his neck pumped wildly. He drew back his fist and let go with such force that he nearly fell over when he connected with air. Another diner grabbed Corbin out of the way, holding his arms while the manager came running from the back. "Get out before I call the police!"

  Zach stood there for a moment, seething with rage and running the conversation through his mind. When he had calmed, he turned to find Miranda crouched in the corner, visibly shaking. He slid in the booth beside her and wrapped his arms around her tiny body. He could feel her heart beating wildly. He soothed the fallen hair from her face.

  "Who was that guy? You said in the hospital that he was a client. Where would he get that information?"

  She shook her head, refusing to look him in the eyes.

  "Miranda, look at me." He placed a finger under her chin and turned her face towards his. Tears streaked down her face. She kept her eyes lowered. "He said you have heard those words before. Who has said those things to you?"

  "Ethan." The word was barely audible. "Ethan said those things to me everyday, at least once."