Stone looked up at Deirdre, knew how much he had to lose. She’d be mad as hell. She might never forgive him for interfering. Stone’s fists clenched, remembering the sweetness of the future she’d offered. Deirdre mouthing the words marry me.
But what kind of a husband would he be if he let Adam Farrington walk back into her life? If Jake didn’t risk losing everything to protect her, he didn’t deserve to be called a man.
The kid was babbling something about the music. How he and Emma had conspired to tape Deirdre’s voice tonight, send it to clubs around Whitewater, get her some gigs to sing. Emma’s thoughtfulness made Jake even more determined to protect the women he loved than before.
“Drew,” Jake said, “see that guy over there? The one with the redhead?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell him you saw a bunch of kids put a dent in his car.”
Confusion wrinkled Drew’s brow. “But I don’t even know which car is his.”
“It won’t matter. Guys like that think everybody’s drooling over their wheels. Bet I could pick out his ride in about five seconds. In fact, I think I’ll head out to the lot right now and prove to myself that I can.”
Drew looked at him, the boy quiet, as if sensing dangerous currents just beneath the surface. “Whatever you say, Jake.”
“Once you get the guy out the door, get lost, will you?”
Confusion, curiosity sparked in Drew’s eyes. But something in Jake’s face must have killed off the urge to ask questions.
“Right. Okay, then,” Drew agreed.
Jake owed the kid big-time. But with luck Drew would never know the reason why.
Jake took one more moment to look up at Deirdre, drink her in as she poured all of her love for him into her music, memorize the new softness in her beautiful face, sweet possibilities that might never get a chance now to become real. Squaring his shoulders, Jake wove through the crowd, making his way toward the entrance where they’d come in.
Maybe there was no way to protect her from seeing the man who raped her tonight. But once the reunion was over…
You’ll never have to see him again, Jake swore, loving her so much it hurt. I swear to you and Emma, I’ll keep your secret safe.
Jake’s eyes glittered like the predator he was. He’d hunted men before. He slipped into the deserted parking lot to wait.
JAKE WAS LEAVING. Slipping out of the hall for a breath of fresh air. Deirdre tried not to mind as the last measures of “Unforgettable” melted into silence.
It seemed so strange, his reaction, since she’d dedicated the song to him. And yet, Jake was as fiercely reluctant about showing his vulnerable side as Deirdre herself was. And she knew full well what it meant to him, the answer she’d given him from the stage.
Marry me.
She gripped the microphone, torn between euphoria and panic, an unnerving sense of impending doom. It wasn’t safe to be this happy, a voice whispered inside her. No, she told herself firmly. She was just gun-shy because so many things had gone wrong in the past. Time would change that holding-her-breath kind of feeling, waiting for the ax to fall. Jake’s love had taught her to take chances again. She trusted him. He would never let her down.
Her heart leapt, as behind her the band fired up again, the intro leading into her next song. How in God’s name was she ever going to get through the rest of this set? She needed to touch Jake. To see the joy in his eyes, to feel the hot anticipation when he pulled her tight against him. Taste the passion he’d resurrected inside her when she’d thought that part of her dead.
She felt her nipples tingle, her breasts suddenly too tender, a liquid heat flowing down to settle in the place Jake had claimed for his own.
How had she ever believed she was frigid? Cold and withered and dead? The music, the dancing—just the brush of Jake’s gaze was the most powerful aphrodisiac she could imagine. Left her burning, wide-open with wanting.
She almost missed her cue, fell into the song half a beat too late. She didn’t care. Why had it seemed so damned important that she dazzle these people she didn’t even know anymore, people who’d shunned her when she’d been at her most vulnerable and alone? She didn’t care that they’d once thought she’d be some disembodied voice in their car radios.
Only one thing mattered now.
To get herself into Jake Stone’s arms, into his life, into his bed before she wasted another minute worrying about things she couldn’t change.
She’d never told him what he needed to hear. Not in words, simple, undeniable, infinitely precious. Words she’d never said to any man before.
I love you.
Her voice broke as her eyes strayed longingly to the door through which Jake had disappeared. She caught a glimpse of someone far too young to be part of her graduating class. Recognized Drew Lawson heading the direction Jake had gone.
An agitated man was rushing out in the boy’s wake.
A jolt of something cold plunged to Deirdre’s toes. Something about the way the man in the exquisitely tailored suit moved…
Stop imagining things, Deirdre warned herself sharply. Don’t be summoning up old ghosts. Adam wasn’t coming tonight, remember? Or you and Jake wouldn’t be here.
She could hear Jake’s voice in her head. Don’t give that bastard power over you. Not ever again. We beat it, Dee, all the pain, all your doubts, all the scars that held your loving back from me. You’re mine now. Adam Farrington can’t hurt you anymore.
Just one more verse to get through, Deirdre thought, instinct alone keeping her on key. Then she’d tell the band goodbye. They’d have to play without her tonight.
She and Jake had the rest of their lives to begin.
IT WAS ALMOST TOO EASY, Jake thought, as he lounged against Farrington’s car. A red Porsche 911 with vanity plates that read HOUSCLL. The good doctor had had some lackey polish it until Stone could have shaved by his reflection. This was going to be just as sweet and easy as he’d imagined.
His gaze fixed on the bank of glass doors marking the entrance, Jake felt a shock of adrenaline as he saw Drew Lawson push his way through them into the night, a taller, broader figure a few steps behind him.
Jake slouched, to disguise his height, counting on the fact that Farrington had just crossed the brightly lit foyer to blur the man’s vision long enough to keep the guy from realizing who was laying in wait. Jake’s lids slid to half-mast, hooding the danger glittering in his eyes.
His heartbeat slowed, schooled by years of training in martial arts, years as a cop, knowing that calm was far more powerful than frenzy. He didn’t want Farrington to see the trap until its teeth were buried in the bastard’s neck.
The doctor was so intent on the shape his car was in, Jake needn’t have worried. Farrington rushed up, looking as if someone had poured gasoline on his baby.
“What side is the dent on?” Jake heard Farrington ask Drew. “Which way did they run?”
“I don’t remember. I just…” Drew stunk at lying.
“See for yourself,” Jake growled. Farrington missed a step. But fear for his car outweighed his wariness of Jake. Stupid, stupid man. How the hell did anyone like him get to be a doctor?
Farrington’s eyes locked on Jake, but the years of hiding emotions from people he’d been investigating stood Jake in good stead. He schooled his features into bland lines. At least he tried to. Maybe facing down his future wife’s rapist with a blank expression was beyond even his powers of deception.
“What are you doing out here?” Farrington asked, looking around him—the lighted parking lot and Drew’s presence seemed to ease his mind. The arrogance of the man enraged Jake, the guy’s certainty that he was too important, too powerful for his ugly past to touch.
“I chased the vandals away,” Jake drawled.
Drew was backing toward the door, a line of unease between his brows. “My wife and daughters bought this for my last birthday,” Farrington said in a good-ol’-boy kind of tone. Stone half expected the guy to clap
him on the back. Farrington would have a hard time performing surgery once Jake ripped off that arm.
Farrington offered his hand. Jake ignored it, all that Zen calm shit be damned.
The doctor flushed under his tan but tried to bluff his way through. “I’m real sentimental about this car.”
“Really?” Jake asked as if the guy had just tried to sell him some of his daughters’ Girl Scout cookies. “If I’d known that, I probably would’ve gone into the gym and gotten those punks a couple of baseball bats.”
Farrington’s jaw dropped open in surprise. He tried to act cool, but Jake could smell the fear in him. The guy walked around the car, and Jake wasn’t sure if even Farrington knew for sure the reason why. Was Dr. Rapist looking for the damage, or was he hoping that a few tons of steel and chrome would keep Jake a safe distance away?
“Funny,” Farrington mused, even more off balance. “It must be the bad light back here. I…I don’t see any damage.”
“You don’t?” Jake said silkily, rounding the door with a perplexed frown. Jake’s gaze skimmed from the gleaming bumper, to the pristine passenger door. “I’m sure it was here a minute ago.” Jake’s leg flashed out like lightning, his hard heel connecting with the door panel, Farrington’s cry of protest drowned out in the heartwarming sound of metal crushing under the force of Jake’s kick.
Pain shot up Jake’s leg at the impact, but he barely felt it, elation searing through him as the door caved in.
“My God, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Farrington roared, his face suffusing with color. “I’ll call the cops! Sue you for—”
Jake flashed a tiger’s grin. “Oh, yeah. Call ’em now, you piece of scum. I’ll even dial the dispatcher for you on my cell.”
Farrington started to back away. The stupid fucker didn’t even remember there was a concrete wall behind him. “What…what are you? Crazy?”
“Rabbit-assed crazy,” Jake said, with fiendish satisfaction. “Just ask them at the station house when they pick up the call. It was a helluva scandal when they threw me off the force for shooting some poor son of a bitch who liked to beat his wife. Of course, that was eight years ago, but that’s the kind of exit people tend to remember.”
Fear flared in the jerk’s eyes as Farrington tried to edge around the car, make a run for the building, but Jake had planned his attack too well. The prick had parked in the concrete L of a retaining wall, so no “regular people” would ding his precious car doors.
“Know what’s funny?” Jake asked silkily. “That guy I shot down like the dog he was? I didn’t even know him. But he pissed me off so bad that…well, I just lost all control. Imagine the damage I could do to the cowardly son of a bitch who raped the woman I love.”
Farrington blanched. “It…it wasn’t like that!”
“Wasn’t it?”
“I was just a stupid kid. I thought…you know how girls are. Saying no when they really mean yes.”
Jake grabbed the guy by the collar, jammed Farrington up against the concrete wall so hard his head smacked against it. The guy groaned. “Deirdre was sixteen years old, you rotten coward. You conned her into thinking you loved her, and then when she said no—hell, what part of no didn’t you understand?”
“I can see…see you’re angry,” Farrington choked out.
Yeah, Jake thought grimly. Just you try to reason with the crazy man.
“But you’d better stop. Think. You won’t get away with this. That kid who told me to come out here—he’ll identify you.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Stone said, letting the vee between his thumb and first finger press just below Farrington’s Adam’s apple. A doctor would have to know he was one quick shove away from death. “Drew’s a great kid. He’ll tell the God’s honest truth. I’m counting on it.” Farrington tried to swallow. Stone could feel him sweat.
“It’ll be a hell of a party in that courtroom,” Stone said, “when I tell the whole town what you did to Deirdre at Sullivan’s Point.”
“You…you can’t prove…a thing!”
“Try me. Oh, they’ll put me on the stand and I’ll tell the whole goddamned ugly story with your wife sitting in the front row. And then there are those poor daughters of yours. Kids at school are mean as hell once they get their hands on some juicy gossip. But then, you know that, too, don’t you, Farrington? You saw just how much mercy the rest of your class showed Deirdre once your baby started growing inside her. But you didn’t do a damn thing to stop them from tormenting her.”
“Please. Try to understand. She was…was…you don’t know her reputation! Everyone in school thought she’d slept with half the senior class!”
“But you found out different, didn’t you? She was a virgin when she got in your car that night.”
“I…said I was sorry. Offered to pay for an abortion. How could I even be sure the baby was mine? I mean, who knows what other guys followed—”
Stone’s fist flashed out, connected with the man’s jaw. The guy cried out, blood pouring from his split lip. “Wrong answer, doctor. You think after what you did to her she’d rush out to sleep with anybody else? For years she…” No. Even in Stone’s fury he pulled back. “You know how close she came to spending the rest of her life alone? How hard it was for her to trust me enough to say she’d marry me?”
Adam actually looked sick. Was that guilt in the man’s eyes or just plain yellow-bellied fear for his own worthless hide?
“Come on, hit me, you cowardly son of a bitch, so I can beat you to a pulp like you deserve,” Jake goaded. “Or do you only brutalize girls half your size who don’t have a chance in hell of fighting back?”
“It only happened that one time,” Farrington said, his excuse just making Jake madder.
“And that makes it all right? Is that your pathetic story? Did you ever even think about Deirdre and Emma when you were playing house with your wife? When you sent out family pictures with your yearly Christmas cards, did you think about the child who was missing?”
“Of course I thought about her,” Farrington admitted, low. “But there was nothing I could do about any of it.”
“You never approached Deirdre and offered her some of that money you like to flash around with your big diamonds and fancy cars. Never offered her a dime to support Emma?”
“I…it was difficult. I didn’t want to stir things up. I have a family of my own now. I have to protect them—”
“From the truth about who you really are?”
“Who I was.” Farrington squared his shoulders, met Jake’s hate-filled glare. “I’m not that person anymore.”
“Tell me another pretty story. You’re the news of the reunion, the hometown football hero returning to the scene of the crime. After all you’ve done to Deirdre, now you’re going to move back to Whitewater and remind her every day—every goddamned day—of what you did to her? You’re going to make her live in fear that her daughter will look into your eyes and see…”
“I didn’t even know Deirdre still lived in town,” Farrington argued. “She was supposed to head to L.A. or New York. Everybody thought—”
“It’s a lot harder to play gigs all over the country when you’ve got a baby to drag along.”
“I…yes. I suppose it would be.” Farrington sagged, raised a shaking hand to his mouth.
“You took her innocence,” Jake snarled. “Raped her and left her pregnant and alone. You took away her chance for the life she wanted. But damn you, you’re not going to take anything more. This is her home, you rotten sonofabitch. Her home and Emma’s. You’re going to drive out of Whitewater tonight and never show your face here again, or I swear, by God, I’ll kill you where you stand.”
“Jake!”
His name sliced into him like a knife to his heart. He turned.
Deirdre stood there, her face ice-white, her eyes wide with horror, Drew Lawson and half a dozen onlookers a few feet behind.
“Deirdre.” Jake’s stomach plunged. Devastation racked the face t
hat had glowed with hope up on the stage such a short time before. How much had she heard? Too much. It hollowed out her eyes with despair.
And the rest of the people watching—their faces were stark with shock. The doctor wiped blood from his lip with the back of his hand.
“Want me to call the cops?” Some guy with a pot belly asked, cell phone in hand.
“That’s not necessary,” Farrington said quietly. “Mr. Stone and I have come to an understanding.”
Jake wondered what in hell the guy was going to tell his wife.
Jake took a step toward Deirdre. She shrank back, not letting him touch her. He glanced down, his knuckles red with blood. He’d cut them on Farrington’s teeth and hadn’t even noticed.
But of all the people clustered around the red car, it was Deirdre who was bleeding the most, deep down, where no one but Jake could see.
“He was going to move back here,” he said, trying to reach through to where he’d cut her. “Don’t you see? I couldn’t let him do that to you and Emma.”
But she backed away, betrayal flooding her eyes, the secret she’d kept for seventeen years stripped naked before Emma’s boyfriend and the rest of the stricken crowd.
“Damn it, Dee,” Stone said, desperate. “I did it for you.”
“No,” Deirdre said in a dead voice that chilled him. “You did it for you, for your stupid male pride.”
“Like hell I did!”
“And now…now Emma…”
“I didn’t mean for anyone else to hear.” Bile rose in Stone’s throat. “I love you! You and Emma. A man has to protect his own.”
“Stay…stay away from me,” Deirdre choked out. “I never want to see you again!”
“You don’t mean that, Deirdre.”
“It’s over, Jake. I never should have—Oh, God. Why didn’t I turn you away? Then Emma would never know…” Deirdre shattered on a sob.
Drew Lawson slipped his arm around her, and Jake feared the kid’s support was the only thing keeping Deirdre on her feet.
“Dee?” Lucy’s neighbor Liz said softly, her voice filled with self-blame. “If you’re worried about…about anyone here saying anything to Emma…we won’t.” Her eyes filled with empathy. “We all hurt you enough back in school. Didn’t we?” Workout Barbie glared at her classmates. “Didn’t we?”