"When did you find out about the cameras?" Lisa asked.
Allegra shrugged, her eyes shining glassy in the white light. "I was going back into the office to put his stuff back."
"Why?" There was more to her question than just about the helmet and jacket.
Allegra gave her a familiar look--the one that meant she thought Lisa was being incredibly dense. "So they'd find it here. Duh. So even if he said he didn't have the helmet and stuff, they'd find it here and not believe it had been stolen. So they'd believe he was the one who attacked you, Lisa!"
"Why?" Lisa repeated. "Why did you do all this, Allegra? What did I do to make you hate me so much?"
Allegra looked stricken. "But I don't hate you, Lisa! I love you! I did all this because I love you!"
* * * *
Deacon navigated the familiar rows of greenery easily. He headed for his office and the light which shone forth. A shout hovered on his lips, but even as he flung open the glass door into the building he could see inside. His office, though well-lit, was empty.
He spotted the helmet and jacket he'd thought stolen on the floor. "That bitch," he muttered, not bothering to touch them. She'd been trying to set him up.
If they weren't in his office, where were they? He strained his ears, listening for any sign. He thought he heard a raised shout, but couldn't be certain if it was inside the main building or out in the parking lot.
He had no idea how long it would take for Terry's backup to get there, but one thing he did remember about the City of St. Mary's Police Department. It was prompt and efficient when it came to covering crime scenes. Even so, there wasn't time to spare, not when Allegra might be hurting Lisa. Or worse.
He hurried through the nursery area and went back inside the main building. Everything in here was dark, lit only by the EXIT signs posted periodically along the corridor. Even the outside light had been brighter than in here. With one hand on the wall to help him guide his way, Deacon started running toward the main office.
He heard shuffling and a thumping. Heart pounding, he stepped into the main office. Along the back wall, Doug's office door stood open. A flickering light came from inside and he heard voices.
Without stopping to think, Deacon launched himself around the front desk and toward Doug's office door. In seconds he burst through it, fists up and ready to fight. He saw two figures outlined in the flickering light coming from a small closet, but from this angle he could see little more.
Two figures--locked in a clinch that could be embrace or battle. He had no time to think, no time to decide. He reached for the closest one, grabbed it by the shoulder, twirled it around.
Beneath the swirling hair he saw a familiar face. "Lisa!"
"Get your hands off her," Allegra shouted.
Deacon pushed Lisa out of the way just as Allegra kicked out at him. Her foot connected squarely with his thigh and he stumbled back. Allegra came after him, fists swinging.
He'd never hit a woman in his life, but Deacon didn't hesitate. His fist struck Allegra's jaw, sending her into the desk. He didn't let her cry of pain deter him from grabbing her by the shoulder. Her fist came with the turn. He didn't have time to duck, and she caught him just above the eye.
"Stop it," Lisa cried, but he didn't know who she meant.
Deacon didn't let go of Allegra even as she swung at him again. Lisa came from behind him, trying to pull them apart, and Allegra's next swing hit Lisa right in the nose. The crunch was loud and sickening in such close proximity. Lisa stumbled back, and Deacon reached to help her.
He should have known better than to turn his back on a crazy woman. Allegra snatched up a stapler from the desk and hit him on the head with it. He felt a gush of blood and he cursed.
"Damn it, Allegra!"
Her laughter sent him over the edge, but it was watching her grab for Lisa that made him reach out to seize her once more. He didn't want to hit her again. Even just doing it once had made his mouth taste bad. He struggled for a good grip on her, but her shirt was loose and kept slipping from his fingers.
"My sister not enough for you?" Allegra taunted. In the weird light, her eyes looked like silver fire. "See, Lisa? He'll take a chance on anything with tits!"
Lisa only groaned, sagging against the desk. The blood on her face looked black. Deacon finally got a good grasp on Allegra's shirt and yanked her toward him.
"Just shut up," he warned her.
Allegra drew up her knee and hit him in the groin with it. He didn't even have time to groan before he hit the floor. A red, hot haze of pain filled him. He was still trying to rise above it when the room suddenly flared with light and noise.
"Don't move!" Police officers, guns raised, filled the room.
Deacon couldn't have moved, even if he'd wanted to. He couldn't speak. Could barely breathe. He could only watch through the haze of pain as one of the officers yanked him to his feet and slapped a pair of handcuffs on him again.
Two more officers went to Lisa who still stood with her hands to her bloody face. Allegra sobbed against the shoulder of one of the officer's, her crocodile tears completely convincing.
Deacon didn't know the cop who hauled him to his feet, but he knew the one who stopped them at the office door.
"You son-of-a-bitch," Terry said, his face livid with anger. "If you've hurt her, there's no jail in the world that'll keep you safe from me."
As much as Deacon wanted to protest his innocence, speech had escaped him. He looked to Lisa and tried to make her see what was happening to him. Tried to make her save him.
She looked right at him and didn't say a word even when the cop shoved him out the door.
* * * *
Terry's face loomed up in front of her and Lisa blinked. Her face was on fire. Blood stained her hands. Someone had hit her.
Allegra. Al had hit her in the face. Not Deacon who they were taking away in handcuffs. She caught sight of his face, his beseeching eyes, and knew she should speak.
Terry was talking to her. Allegra was crying. Lisa took her hands from her face and stared at them as though they belonged to somebody else. Then she remembered everything that had happened.
"Wait," she cried. "Wait, don't take him away!"
"Don't listen to her," Allegra said, her voice calm despite her tears. "She's just upset."
Lisa turned and looked deep into her sister's eyes. "I love you, Al. I really do. But you need help, and I want to make sure you get it."
She turned to Terry. "Deacon didn't do this to me. He didn't do anything."
"No!" Allegra shouted, struggling away from the officer who'd been tending her. "No, Lisa!"
"It's been Allegra all along." Her voice broke. Suddenly, it became very difficult to remain standing, but she did. She didn't look away from Allegra at all. "It was my sister."
She'd seen Allegra cry before, plenty of times. This time, watching the silver drops fall from her sister's eyes, Lisa knew they were real.
* * * *
Again the night sky had been painted with the swirling red and blue of police car lights. Lisa watched Terry revel in his element, directing the action. He steadfastly refused to look in her direction.
She pressed her fingers to the window behind which her sister sat, but Allegra wasn't looking at her either. Lisa stepped back to let the car pull away, watching them take her sister. She felt a presence behind her, and she didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
Deacon didn't touch her, and she almost didn't turn. So much had happened. So many things needed to be said. He waited patiently for her to decide, and it was his patience that made her turn.
"We'll both still need to go down to the station and make statements." His voice was husky.
She nodded. "I called my parents. They'll be waiting there."
She raised her eyes to his, searching for the answers she needed. Deacon returned her gaze seriously. His face was already purpling with the bruises he'd endured for her. He had come to save her. It was no decla
ration of love, but it must mean something. Mustn't it?
"What do you think will happen to her?" he asked.
"She needs help," Lisa said. "And we'll make sure she gets what she needs."
"And what about what you need?"
They stared at each other in silence until the lights flashing around them and the noise of radios faded away. There was only Deacon in front of her. Deacon, who had filled her thoughts for so long she could not imagine a time when he had not been in her mind.
Lisa reached out and took his hand, feeling the warmth of it press against her palm. "I think what I need is right here."
Deacon's kiss brushed her lips with feather softness. In Deacon's arms, Lisa found what she'd never known she needed until that moment. No matter what happened from then on, there was nothing else to fear.
Megan Hart
Megan Hart began her writing career in grammar school when she plagiarized a short story by Ray Bradbury. She soon realized that making up her own stories was better than copying other people's, and she's been writing ever since.
Megan's award-winning short fiction has appeared in such diverse publications as Hustler, On Our Backs and The Reaper. Her novels include every genre of romance, from historical to steamy futuristic SF. In addition to her short erotic fiction for the Amber Kisses imprint, look for her other Amber Quill novels: Riverboat Bride, Lonesome Bride, Convicted! and Love Match.
Megan's current projects include a fantasy series, a futuristic trilogy and a dramatic suspense novel. Her dream is to have a movie made of every one of her novels, starring herself as the heroine and Keanu Reeves as the hero. Megan lives in the deep, dark woods of Pennsylvania with her husband and two monsters...er...children.
Learn more about Megan by visiting her website: http://www.meganhart.com
* * * *
Don't miss The Clear Cold Light Of Morning, by Megan Hart, available Winter, 2004, from Amber Quill Press, LLC
Perion Marrett's love fulfilled a prophecy and made Mason de Cimmerian the greatest magicreator in the land, but the high magic nearly tore him apart. Now only the love that granted him the power can keep him from succumbing to the thrall's deadly beauty. Perion's willing to give him all she has...
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Megan Hart, Convicted
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