Killer's Prey (13 page)

She didn’t know how to take this. Everything inside her seemed to be jumbling as if she were in a cement mixer.

“But it wasn’t just that. It was that it hurt.”

She stilled, everything inside her going quiet. “Hurt?”

“Hurt to hear you think you needed to offer to sleep with me to get me to take you to the prom. Hurt to realize that I wanted to do it. I should have had the sense right then to realize that I cared more about you than Beth.”

“You’re just saying that.” Her mind whirled, unable to believe.

“I’m not just saying it. I’ve had to live with that memory as much as you have, and I’m not proud of it. I spent a lot of time wondering how I could have been such a bastard, what drove me to say terrible things. My only excuse was that I was young and didn’t know how to deal with all the mixed-up feelings that caused. I struck out at you when I should have struck out at myself. I’m sorry and I’m ashamed, but it’s the truth.”

“Let it go,” she said weakly, feeling as if her world were turning upside down again. “Just let it go.”

“I can’t until I’ve finished. I’ve thought about it over the years, but I’ve been thinking especially hard about it since you came home. I wanted you and I retaliated against
you
because of it.”

“Nobody wanted me,” she said, a burst of pain adding strength to her voice. “Nobody!”

“That’s not true! Maybe nobody else did. I’m not speaking for the whole world here. It was sure as hell obvious that your father wanted you to believe that. The other kids told you that often enough. But except for that one time, did I tell you that, Nora? Ever?”

She couldn’t even manage a shake of her head.

“I just need you to know that. If I’d been a little older and wiser, I never would have gotten engaged to Beth. I’d have taken you to that damn prom. Hell, I’d even have bought you the prettiest dress you could find so you could feel like the belle of the ball, because, dammit, regardless of all those ugly clothes and glasses, I could see the beauty behind them. I
wanted
you. And to my everlasting sorrow, I didn’t have the sense to realize it. So here we are, twelve years later, all water over the dam, nothing I can do about it to fix it, except be honest. I screwed up big time and hurt you in the process.”

“Jake...”

“I know. It’s too late. We’re practically strangers now, and none of what happened then changes that. But the fact is I
still
want you.”

A shiver of delighted, unadulterated longing passed through her, and she tightened her hold on him, even as long years of wounding made her say, “You didn’t have to say that. It’s okay. I put it in the past.”

“I haven’t,” he said firmly. “I finally faced up to it. I want you to know. I realize it doesn’t change a damn thing, I get that things have changed... Hell, at this point you probably couldn’t even consider such a thing after what you’ve been through. You’re scared, too, justifiably so, and I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you. But now you know. Now
I
know. It’s done and over.”

But it was far from over, she realized as she leaned into him, enjoying his warmth, enjoying the intimacy, enjoying the sizzling sensations that zinged through her body.

Far from over. She just didn’t know where it could go.

Chapter 8

L
angdon’s impatience was growing. He’d found a cheap motel room that didn’t ask for ID, only for cash, and had learned from a newspaper that his wife might be recovering from her coma. Even though she would need months of therapy, it remained: she had defied him.

That defiance maddened him. He was moving ever closer to Nora, and he’d figured that as soon as he took care of her, he’d be on his way, disappearing to some distant country where no one would ever find him. The escape route was planned, the money squirreled in an untraceable bank account.... Oh, he was ready to take off.

But now he sat between two women who had defied him by surviving. Some cowardly part of his mind suggested he should just skedaddle now, but he couldn’t do that. Not with unfinished business.

At least as far as Nora went. Going after his wife again would mean returning to Minneapolis, too dangerous despite his fury. But finding Nora in the virtual middle of nowhere would give him plenty of opportunity to escape.

He could tie up one loose end. Teach one woman that defiance was the ultimate sin. With reluctance, he had to accept that maybe one of the women would escape him, at least for years to come.

But Nora wouldn’t. He could at least take savage satisfaction in teaching her a lesson before he wiped the defiance out of her forever by killing her.

His hands clenched as he considered the sheer pleasure of the terror he meant to inflict, the pain he would show her. Damn, he could hardly wait.

Turning on the bed, he reached for his map and reviewed his route with an eye to getting there faster and settling one issue quickly.

Of course, he had to be careful. Chances were since she’d gone to her hometown—a piece of knowledge for which he thanked his wife, who had told him in the midst of his threats before he gave her hell—they might be expecting him on that end.

At some point they’d think he’d fled the country. He was counting on it.

Soon, though. The pressure inside him was building. He’d learned something about himself—that he couldn’t wait too long. The only reason he didn’t take out his frustration on some woman along the road was that he didn’t want to leave a trail.

But it was starting to drive him nuts. He had to act soon, before the pressure drove him to complete stupidity.

He scanned the map again, calculating. If he were careful, he could probably take care of Nora in the near future. The thought left him nearly salivating.

It also began to compress his time scale.

* * *

Two weeks later, Nora was enjoying increasing health and increasing confidence. Jake had given her a half dozen lessons in self-defense, and while she wasn’t trying to hurt him, he was teaching her things that
would
hurt if she used full force. Ways of breaking a hold, ways of making a man much bigger at least temporarily helpless from pain.

She especially liked the one about bending a finger or two back. She could do that, for sure.

Jake began to let her exercise all the horses in the corral, although he still had Al handle the saddling beforehand. A good thing, too, she admitted, once she tried to lift a saddle. Maybe if the horses hadn’t been so tall, but she had struggled and been forced to admit she couldn’t yet do it.

A small defeat, one she was determined to overcome.

In fact, determination was filling her. Her nights became less troubled, although the fear that nagged at her hovered around the edges of every thought. That man would come. She knew it in her heart, and it kept her alert every single minute, even out on the ranch, where she should have felt safer because she was never alone and she’d be harder to find.

But as her determination grew, so did her defiance. She went to town four days a week to work on the archives. She made herself leave the security of the library to walk to the diner for lunch.

But she had almost given up looking for her own place. Jake had made it clear that he was going to create reasons for her not to do that at least until her attacker was caught.

And there was the other thing, looming almost equally as large in her mind: her father. She didn’t want to see him. Not even for a moment on the street.

Unfinished business, she thought one evening as she and Jake curled up near the woodstove in his living room, reading. Lots of unfinished business, especially with Fred Loftis. All that therapy, and being around him could still turn her into the frightened, diminished, ugly duckling he had raised.

She didn’t need that right now, and she was so grateful to Jake for giving her haven.

Then there was the unfinished business of Jake. He might have explained what had happened twelve years ago, but he had also said things had changed, they had changed and it was now firmly in the past.

She wasn’t at all sure about that. While she had done a decent job of shedding the pain he had caused her and forgiving him, there wasn’t one damn thing she could do about the attraction she still felt for him.

He had held her, surely to comfort her and for no other reason, but it remained that the feel of his naked chest against her cheek, the feel of his warm, smooth skin beneath her hands, had been branded in her mind and yes, dammit, in her groin. Trickles of desire plagued her every time she saw him, and she had to create swift diversions of some kind to distract herself.

He didn’t want her. He’d said he had wanted her back then, but that was back then. How much clearer could he make it?

The weather had turned colder, a dusting of snow remained on the ground outside, but inside near the stove it was plenty warm. Warmer, perhaps, because of the direction her thoughts kept taking.

She couldn’t prevent herself from looking up over the top of the book she was reading to study him as he sat in his own chair a few feet away, scanning a book or a magazine.

He kept up with a lot of stuff, from ranching to animal husbandry to policing. He seemed to have an endless thirst to know all he could, and only occasionally drifted into a novel or some other subject.

He’d talk to her about it some when she could think of an intelligent question, but little by little she was coming to an appreciation of the odds he was fighting as a small-business owner. The world seemed to have little room for independent operations anymore.

But he never complained. He just said he needed to work harder.

Rosa interrupted her bouncing balls of thought by appearing with the nightly mugs of hot chocolate. Nora was certain they were slowly growing spicier with chili pepper, and she liked it. She never would have imagined combining chocolate and chili, but it worked.

“I’ll say good night now,” Rosa said as she always did. “Al is waiting.”

Al came every night to walk her back to their little bunkhouse.

“Thank you,” Nora said. “Can I ask a favor?”

Rosa lifted a brow. “Of course. But what could I do for you?”

“You could find some ways for me to help around here tomorrow. I don’t have to work, and being a lady of leisure isn’t what I’m used to.”

Rosa smiled, a wonderfully warm expression that Nora was coming to love, and laughed with the comfort of someone who felt everything was right in the world. “Of course! It’ll be fun to work together!”

“Wow,” Jake said after Rosa departed.

“Wow?”

“She’s always seemed to get offended anytime I try to wash a dish or clean the shower after myself. It’s
her
job, she says.”

“Well, it is. But maybe it’s different because I kind of told her it would help me.”

He winked. “Next week I’ll have you pitching hay in the barn.”

“Try me.”

“I just might.” A smile creased the corners of his eyes, and she felt punched by attraction to him. “It’s good to see you regaining your strength so fast. When you first got here, I wondered if you ever would.”

She lowered her book, thinking about it. “There was a lot more stress back in Minneapolis. A lot more. I was closer to the whole situation—there were the cops, the newspapers, losing my job, all of that. I don’t think it helped.”

“But here you can relax?”

“A whole lot more.” She didn’t mention the nagging terror she couldn’t quite forget. Sometimes she wondered if that terror would ever go away, even if they put that guy behind bars for life. And she still couldn’t bring herself to think his name, let alone say it.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. I’m just glad to see how much stronger you’re getting. Even your hair is thickening.”

She reached up self-consciously and touched it. “I don’t know why it seemed so stringy before. And it can’t have grown that fast.”

He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe when you’re not well it just shows everywhere.”

“Maybe.”

Then out of the blue he said, “You know, you were pretty in high school, but you’ve grown into a really beautiful woman.”

Her mouth opened in astonishment and disbelief exploded in her brain, yet at the same time she felt her cheeks grow hot as fire, as if his compliment had embarrassed her beyond belief. All she could respond with was a weak protest. “Jake!”

“It’s true.” His smiled widened a bit. “I just thought you should know. The ugly duckling you probably felt like has turned into a swan that would attract every guy with eyes to see.”

Maybe, she thought almost desperately, guys with eyes to see were in some special class.

“Didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said after a moment. “Someday I just hope you can see yourself through a pair of eyes other than your father’s.”

What a sweet thing to say, she thought as her eyes stung with emotion. What a very sweet thing to say. She didn’t believe it for one minute, though. Maybe she had a pretty enough face now that she was filling out again, maybe her hair looked better, but she didn’t even have to close her eyes to remember the angry red scars on her body. They’d repulse anyone, and it might be years before they faded to silvery, puckered lines.

“Thank you,” she said finally.

“You don’t have to thank me for the truth.” He shifted, placing one ankle on his other knee. Then he put his magazine aside and reached for his cocoa. He looked so relaxed, so masculine in the way he sat, in his jeans and flannel shirt, that her heart skipped a crazy beat.

Oh, hell, she couldn’t stop herself from reacting. All she could do was keep it to herself so she didn’t suffer another massive humiliation.

Like the one this man had delivered twelve years ago. She might have forgiven him, might even believe the explanation he had recently given her, but the wound remained, a reminder of just how badly she could be hurt in ways beyond the physical.

And now her body was covered with other wounds, as well.

Hell, she thought again. Hell. Life could be such a bitch sometimes.

“I have to work tomorrow,” he said. “Are you going to be okay out here with Rosa and Al? Or would you feel better in town with me?”

She’d always feel better around him, she realized uncomfortably. He seemed like a bulwark lately, but it would be foolhardy to rely on him. He was just being nice. Helpful. Maybe making up for his past sins, for all she knew.

Yes, she’d feel better at the library with Emma, but Emma wouldn’t be there tomorrow and it wasn’t exactly a busy place. Hiding out in the back office there archiving might be okay, might be out of sight enough, but...

She caught herself. Hadn’t she been learning self-defense from Jake so she didn’t have to live in constant terror? At some point she needed to stop letting other people and her fears dictate every moment of her existence. At some point she needed to take control again the way she had when she had left for college.

She had done it once. She could do it again.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

But she didn’t quite believe it. Almost as if there was some kind of timer or countdown clock inside her head, almost as if the very universe was conveying some kind of pressure, she could have sworn she felt that man drawing closer. As if she were a fly caught in a spiderweb and could feel the web tremble as the spider crawled toward her.

God! She put down her book and jumped up, overwhelmed by a sudden urge to flee, although there was nowhere to run to. What was she supposed to do? Get a car and drive endlessly around the country until they caught the guy? Her savings wouldn’t last very long that way. This wasn’t the only way to end this problem.

But sitting here waiting for something she was convinced was inevitable was like being constantly stretched to breaking on an invisible rack of terror. She might repress the feelings for a while, but they always returned, reminding her that she never, ever fully relaxed.

She couldn’t. She even had to force herself to resume her seat.

So was she sitting here in some web? Unable to tear away in time? He would come. She knew deep inside that he would come for her unless they caught him first, and with each passing day hope that they’d find him was vanishing.

“Nora?”

She realized that panic must have blinded her, because all of a sudden she found Jake squatting in front of her, reaching for her hands to squeeze them firmly.

“Nora?” he said again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Damn, I wish you’d stop apologizing. It’s your first response to nearly everything. You’re scared, aren’t you?”

She managed a jerky nod. “Sometimes it swamps me,” she whispered.

“I’d be surprised if it didn’t.”

He rose, then bent over her, scooping her up in his powerful arms as if she weighed nothing at all. Compared to one of those big bales of hay, she thought almost wildly, she probably didn’t.

He pivoted, then sat with her in his lap sideways. One arm wrapped her shoulders, the other her hips. For a long time he just held her, as if willing his strength to fill her. Or as if his arms were a defense against the big, terrifying world beyond them. If only.

Once she had dreamed of him holding her this way, the innocent wish of a young girl. Now it was happening and she couldn’t even enjoy it. Fear had once again pierced her too deeply.

“I wish I could make promises,” he said, as her head rested on his shoulder. “I wish I could promise that he’ll be caught before he gets within a hundred miles of you. I wish I could promise I’d find him before you ever set eyes on him. I wish I could promise you’d be safe forever.”