Falling For Ken (Blueprint to Love Book 2) (25 page)

"Dammit!" She'd walked these trails dozens of times, but always during the sun-drenched hours of daylight. Biting back a groan, she rose unsteadily to her feet in the rapidly fading light. Ken forgot about her scrape when she heard the unmistakable crack of a dry branch. When the hair on the back of her neck stood at attention, she knew with certainty she wasn't alone. Holding her breath, she waited for another sign of movement. Her blood iced over at the sharp painful yelp from Lurch, but it was the macabre sound of laughing that had her heart tripping in terror.

Sweet Lord, why hadn't she brought a weapon with her? Why hadn't she waited for Harrison? How could she save Lurch when she probably would have trouble saving herself?

Her brain registered a subtle movement to her left. Without questioning it, she swerved right. Her sharp cry of terror was cut off by the looming shadow that swooped over her. Pain lanced through her head as she absorbed the blow, her ears buzzing with the twisted sound of laughter. Darkness crept over her eyes and she sank to her knees, fighting the confusion that had taken over her brain. Sucked into a vortex of spinning color, she let the waves crash over her as the laughter blessedly faded away.

***

Charlie and his partner had screeched up to the house in a pluming cloud of dust. Arriving from the opposite direction, Harry beat them by mere moments. The sound of sirens wailing in the distance told him their backup was minutes away. His heart lodged squarely in his throat, Harry launched out of the car. The three men didn't speak as they took the porch steps two at a time. Kendall's front door was wide open.

"Bill– you take the back. Harry– you know I'm not supposed to let you in here. . . so stay way the hell back and do exactly as I tell you." Charlie barked the order without even glancing his way.

Nodding, Harry would've agreed to anything. "Kendall-"

"We'll find her."

Charlie's terse remark held more anger than confidence, but Harry couldn't contemplate the alternative. He fell into step behind his cousin's bulky frame as Charlie crept into the foyer, gun drawn, his eyes scanning the room.

"Don't touch anything," he reminded.

The shattered patio door had icy shards of panic pumping through him. Chunks of wood lay on the deck where someone– Lance– had violently attacked the frame with a crowbar. Harry's mind quickly filled in the blanks with brutal images that threatened to paralyze him. Had he surprised Kenny in the house? She would have been terrified. But she wouldn't have been caught off guard. Lurch would have warned her. Where was he? His gaze flew to the telephone. She would have called for help. He crossed the room to check the dial tone but remembered as his hand reached for the receiver that it might hold fingerprints.

He was vaguely aware of Charlie moving upstairs, searching the rest of the house when he heard Bill on the deck. Like an automaton, he stepped through the twisted remnants of the swaying French door and met him there. "Anything?"  

"Nope. Phone lines are cut." He surveyed the damaged patio door dispassionately. "Looks like he didn't mess around. Just cut the lines and bashed in the door."

"But the bastard took the time to call us." Charlie stuck his head through the shattered door. He was stepping through the door, glass crunching under his feet when Harry felt a jolt of recognition. His pulse skyrocketing, he jerked his head up and raised his hand for silence.

"I heard a dog bark."

"Can't hear much of anything with all those sirens." Charlie glanced at his partner. "Go around front and tell them to cut the noise. Then meet us back here." His glance shifted to Harrison. "What'd you hear?"

He turned to face the woods, his heart pumping with certainty. "There– I heard Ken's dog. . . in the woods."

Without speaking, the two men vaulted over the side of the deck. Charlie called back over his shoulder to his partner. "Bill-"

"We'll be right behind you."

Harry's instinct told him to run . . . to shout her name. . . to crash through the forest leaving no stone unturned. But his brain spoke of caution. He glanced down at the spot where Charlie's fingers bit angrily into his forearm, warning him of the need for silence. Together they crept through the gloom, inching painstakingly along the path. Minutes passed. Without turning back to confirm his hunch, he sensed Bill had rejoined them, along with a handful of officers who quickly dispersed, fanning out through the woods. Harry experienced a moment of overwhelming relief.

It would end well. It had to.

That illusion ended a nano-second later with Kendall's bloodcurdling scream.

***

"Kenny!" Harry's hands shook badly as they ran over her prone form. He'd nearly tripped over her in the darkened glen. Charlie dove to the ground, quickly checking for a pulse. Finding a strong, healthy beat, he left her in Harry's care before sprinting off in the dark in hot pursuit of Lance. Further down the trail, one of the team retrieved Lurch. He'd been tied to a tree, and though he appeared stunned, he yipped eagerly, staggering to Kendall's side the moment he was untied.

"Honey, can you hear me?" She groaned in response, her muttered words incoherent to a brain frozen with relief. Harry clutched her hand to his lips and fought to swallow the fear descending over him. He should be grateful. They'd found her . . . and she would be alright. The medic working on her suspected Kendall had been blasted with a stun gun.

Instead of relief, the what-ifs reached out to strangle him. Mental images of his father flashed before his eyes . . . hovering over his mother's bed. At the end, Buchanan wouldn't leave Sarah's side. At forty-seven, the endless years of drinking finally caught up with his mother's slight, malnourished frame. At the time, Harrison had believed his father pathetic. To have wasted his life over a woman who loved alcohol more than him.

Now, Harry couldn't be certain. He was in love with Kendall . . . a woman who might never love him in return. Had his father been in the same boat? Without question, Sarah Traynor had owned his father's heart. Perhaps it had been strength that kept his father by her side. Or honor . . . of the vows they'd spoken decades earlier, before his wife was ravaged by her disease. Or love. Bucky had loved her desperately. And when she died, the part that made his father whole had died right along with her.

The truth punched him in the face as he watched the medic hover over Kendall's prone body. Gripping her fingers like a lifeline, Harry knew with blinding certainty he would die to protect her. He would kill Lance Barker before giving him another chance to hurt her.

"Harrison?"

"I'm here, love. You're safe."

Her brows scrunched in confusion. "My door-"

"We'll fix your door, sweet." Harry found his first smile. She must be alright if she was worried about repairs.

"Lurch?" She tried to raise her head and he gently eased her back to the damp ground.

"He's right here."

"Someone was here. I-I heard laughing-"

The tidal wave of fury awakened deep in his chest and began churning with a violence that threatened to obliterate anything in its wake. Unleashed, it would crest over him and he would drown in the crashing swell. Harnessed, the energy would work to his advantage. Expelling a deep breath, he forced the darkness back.

"He won't hurt you again." He'd make damn sure of it.

***

Late the next day, Kendall could only smile over Harry's doting. It was either that, or tear her hair out. His constant hovering would drive her insane. She'd been in bed since arriving home the previous night, despite the fact that she now felt well enough to maneuver around. She didn't know which troubled her more– the vague memory flashes of a shadowy presence in the woods behind her home or the ferocity Harrison displayed every time she attempted to climb out of bed.

The ER doctor had explained that her bruises would heal in a few days and the pervasive soreness she felt would lessen overnight. That diagnosis hadn't worked for Traynor. After five minutes of intense questioning, the poor doctor had been eager to make his escape.

Leaning back against the pillows, she sighed luxuriously. The over-protective thing had benefits. She'd never experienced the delight of being pampered by someone. With a little  practice, she could probably get used to it. A distinctive sound on the stairs forced her thoughts back to the present. Reluctantly, she lifted her head.

"Lord, here they come again."

Traynor's casted foot clunked up every step. Then the dishes on the dinner tray rattled precariously. This was followed by a volley of muttered swearing. Lurch finished the series with an odd three-legged thump as he tagged along behind Harry, no doubt getting underfoot. Together, they sounded like something out of a horror movie. Any minute now, she expected Lurch to trip Harrison, the tray to go flying and Traynor to cartwheel back down to the foyer.

When his head appeared around the doorframe she released a sigh of relief. "Harrison . . . you just fed me an hour ago. I can't eat all that."

"But you barely ate. The doctor said you should get lots of fluids." He set the tray down with a decisive thump. "I brought you lemonade this time. And tea. And water."

"This isn't the flu, Traynor. I got zapped by a stun gun."

His no-nonsense eyes flashed a warning. "You'll drink something."

Her gaze ran over the laden tray. "Then you'll finally have to let me up." At his quizzical expression, she smiled. Sometimes he was completely clueless. "To go to the bathroom?"

"The doctor said to keep you in bed."

"He said that out of desperation. You had him cornered."

"You weren't well enough to ask questions, so I asked for you." Harry shrugged as though his over-reaction to minor injuries was completely normal.

"When that Code Blue was announced, I swear he looked relieved," she countered. "He would have used any excuse to get away from us."

Harrison sat gingerly on the end of the bed, frowning when she shifted her feet to allow him more room. "Honey, try not to move around too much."

"Harry– I'm fine." Clearly, she would have to be more firm with him. "Try to understand– I appreciate all the attention. It's just that. . . I'm fine!"

"I know," he conceded, his beautiful face marred by a frown. "I just can't erase that picture of you lying in the woods . . . unconscious. I thought-" He released a gusting breath. "It scared the hell out of me, okay?"

Her heart contracted as the pain in Harry's voice hit her square in the chest. Frozen with shock, she nodded, the teasing remark she'd been on the verge of tossing lodged squarely in her throat. He absently stroked her calf under the blanket and Kendall had all she could do not to sigh over the sheer wonder of it. He was kind. And caring. And so damn dependable it made her want to weep with joy.

Harrison– loved her. If she'd had any doubt, it was written all over his face. He'd shown her his love in a hundred different ways. Like a puzzle piece finally fitting into place, Ken finally understood what he'd somehow known all along. She was worthy of his love– and he was so incredibly worthy of hers.

Her heart pounding, she reached down to clasp his hand. "Harry . . . I'm sorry I scared you. But I think you know by now that I'm tough. I won't break."

He smiled at her description. "I know you can do whatever you set your mind to. And I know you can take care of yourself. You certainly don't need me, but just this once-"

"I need you," she blurted.

"I want you to rest-" Harry's lecture stopped mid-sentence. "What did you say?"

Ken knew she would never forget the flare of emotion she read in his eyes, the anticipation– that she was finally ready to receive all the love he had to give. "I love you, Harrison. I've loved you for such a long time."

"Kenny– are you-" He closed his eyes for a second. "You'd better be damn sure, Adams. Because you can't back out," he warned. His lopsided grin told her he knew, but his hands still trembled when he tugged her into his arms. "Did I hear you right?"

"I think you heard me fine, Traynor." The last was whispered against his lips when he quickly moved to cement the deal. Several minutes passed before he reluctantly released her to draw in a gasp of much needed oxygen. Somehow they'd toppled back against the headboard. Their heads sharing one pillow, she stared into his beautiful eyes and smiled.

"It's too bad you're so concerned with doctor's orders because I can think of several more interesting things we could be doing right now."

He smiled– the slow, sweet grin that made her insides melt like wax. "He ordered bed rest, love. Lots of bed rest. Weren't you listening?"

***

Kendall was soundly asleep upstairs. Though he knew he could talk freely, Harry still took the precaution of walking outside with his phone. Unable to reach Charlie since the previous evening, he wanted to talk some sense into his cousin. After last night's close call, he couldn't risk another. Lance was dangerously unstable. Kenny wasn't getting within ten feet of him again.

"We have to tell her."

"She could blow the whole operation," Charlie fired back. "Wasting six months of effort."

"He practically called from her house, for God's sake."

"So– he's taking chances. That's what we wanted-"