Last Chance (21 page)

that point, I didn't care what happened--I had to get away from him, even if

he killed me. So when he let me out of the bathroom, I shot out the door. I

even made it halfway across the yard before he caught me. That was the first

time I'd been outside in weeks...the first time I realized we were at a small

ranch." She shook her head quickly. "Anyway, he took me back inside. His

friend, the one who owned the ranch, helped Damon tie me to the bed. Then

Damon used a whip on me."

"The brand on your bottom?"

"Damon was gone one day, or outside or something...I don't know

where. Anyway, I was chained to the bed. Butch, Damon's friend, came in

and he..." She took a deep, trembling breath; Lucas held her tighter. "Damon

came in and pulled him off me before he could get inside me. Damon beat

him...literally beat him to death. Slammed his head against a windowsill

over and over again until there was almost nothing left. There was blood

everywhere...the stench gagged me. I started throwing up. Damon unchained

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me."

She gave a half laugh, half sob. "Stupid, really, but I thought he was

going to comfort me, or at least let me go to the bathroom and throw up."

"He didn't?"

She shook her head. "He dragged me to the barn. I was so damn weak,

I couldn't fight him. He told me the reason Butch went after me was because

his brand wasn't on me. He tied me to a stall and branded the
D
on my

bottom."

One thing...just one of the atrocious things that had happened to her

would have broken many people, but not McKenna. Yes, she might be

broken in some ways, but God, she had so much good in her, so much

strength and courage.

How he hurt for her. Lucas wished with all his heart that Damon

hadn't died in prison. Because if it took every bit of his wealth and he had to

pay with his life, he would have taken the man apart for what he had done.

Silence once more. Would she tell him the rest or wait for another

day? Then she whispered, "I didn't expect them to think I was in on it."

Already knowing, he asked, "Who?"

"The police. They thought I helped him...that I was an accomplice.

That I actually aided him in killing my parents."

"How do you know?"

As if she couldn't be near him when she told the rest of the story,

McKenna moved to get up. Lucas wasn't having it. "Stay, McKenna.

Whatever you have to say...we'll deal with it together."

She stopped resisting then, but didn't relax as she had before. "Damon

kept me locked up. If I wasn't locked in the bathroom, it was the bedroom.

Wherever he kept me, I was chained. I got sick a lot, had no appetite. He

raped or beat me almost daily. Said I had to learn obedience and this was the

only way to teach me.

"I found some sleeping pills way back in the medicine cabinet. I had

seen them before but kept hoping I could escape alive. Then one day I

realized the only way I could escape him was to die. I swallowed all the

pills. Damon found me on the bathroom floor, tried to get me to throw up,

but I couldn't. He had to take me to the hospital to get my stomach pumped

out. When he was talking to the doctor, I snuck out of the hospital. The

police picked me up as I was walking down the road. Since all I had on was

a hospital gown, I guess I looked suspicious."

She swallowed audibly. "I was so glad to see them...I thought they

would help me. And they did at first. They were really kind and sympathetic.

Then they checked their records, or whatever they check. There was a

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warrant out for Damon and me. They arrested me. And then they went and

arrested Damon.

"They didn't believe me when I told them I'd had nothing to do with

Mama, Daddy, and Amy's deaths. They locked me up and then sent me back

to Nebraska. Fortunately, I had a public defender who believed me.

Everybody else either didn't believe me or thought I got what I deserved."

"I'm assuming you got off?"

She nodded. "The public defender made a deal with the DA's office. If

they got Damon to confess that I had nothing to do with it, they'd drop the

charges against me. They tricked him into admitting I wasn't involved.

Damon was furious...or so I was told. I didn't see him again."

"Then what happened?"

"Damon went to prison. By that time I was eighteen...an adult. I tried

to restart my life, such as it was."

"Did you have no other family?"

The little hitch he heard in her throat gave him a preview of the

heartbreak of her next words. "Just my aunt...my dad's sister. She was at the

jail when they brought us back to Nebraska. We were never that close--she

was years older than my daddy and lived in another state. Anyway, she made

a point of being there that day to tell me I was responsible for her brother's

death, and as far as she was concerned, they could give me the death

penalty."

Lucas cursed softly. No wonder she held herself responsible for

everything. Everyone she should have been able to count on had betrayed

her and let her down.

"And now Damon Hughes is rotting in jail?" He knew the bastard had

burned to death in some kind of prison riot, but asked the question since it

was the reasonable one to ask.

"No, he escaped."

Everything stilled inside him. "What do you mean, he escaped?"

She sighed and moved to get up again. This time he let her. He needed

all his faculties about him to hear this. Having McKenna in his arms affected

his thinking.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and faced him. "He was

sentenced to thirty-five years to life in a maximum-security prison. About a

year or so after he was convicted, there was a prison riot. Several inmates

died.... It was reported that Damon was one of them."

"Why don't you believe that?"

"Because I've heard from him."

"Heard from him how?"

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"A few months after I heard he died, he sent me a letter. It wasn't

signed, had no return address, but it was full of facts. Facts only Damon

knew. He told me he would forgive me if I came back to him. Said that he

was leaving it up to me this time, but he knew where I was and could get to

me anytime. He said if I made any kind of friend, had any kind of

relationship, he would kill whoever it was. That he was the only person I

should love."

"Did you go to the police?"

Humorless, painful laughter burst from her mouth. "Oh yes, I made a

fool of myself. Gave them the letter, told them it had to be Damon. They

told me I was probably having psychotic episodes from all the drugs I'd been

on or that I was imagining things because of a guilty conscience. They acted

as if I was the one who wrote it."

She shook her head. "I walked out the door and didn't try anymore. I

left town--this was in Seattle...I think." She frowned as if confused. "I've

lived in so many places, it's hard to remember. I lived a year or so in

Baltimore, worked at a gym. One of the men there gave me some street-fight

training. But then Damon's people found me again." A small smile. "The

guys who owned the gym beat the hell out of them. I left the city...I knew

they'd be back."

"Have you heard from him since?"

"I didn't for a long time. Almost three years went by. I thought I was

safe...thought he'd finally really died or had forgotten about me. I was living

in Memphis, Tennessee. I still had no friends, worked part-time jobs to be

able to eat and have a place to stay. I was too afraid to talk to people...I

couldn't take the chance." She released a shaky breath. "But there was an

elderly lady in my apartment building. I came home one day and saw her

trying to carry groceries up three flights of stairs. The elevator rarely

worked. I helped her carry them to her apartment. The next day she came to

my door with a plate of cookies.

"It was the nicest thing anyone had done for me in the longest time."

Her eyes were desolate as she whispered, "I hugged her, thanked her. That

was it. Nothing else. The next day she was found dead at the bottom of the

stairs. She was eighty-one years old and it was decided that she tripped and

fell down the stairs."

"But you don't think so?"

"Damon sent me a letter. Told me I was responsible. Said he pushed

her down the stairs to punish me. That he had warned me I couldn't have

friends." She shrugged. "I didn't bother going to the police. No one had

believed me before--why would they believe me then? They still claimed

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Damon was dead. I was afraid they'd lock me up as some sort of crazy

person or, even worse, accuse me of killing her myself."

She sat there for the longest time without speaking. Finally she started

again. "I disappeared once more. This time I did it right. I had made some

contacts in Memphis in case Damon ever did try to get to me again. I had

fake driver's licenses, fake passports. I cut my hair off, bleached it, and

started wearing tons of makeup. I changed the way I walked and talked, and

dressed like a boy. Everything that used to be McKenna, I changed. And

then I left the country."

"And you've not heard from him since?"

"No. But I know he's still out there looking for me."

"That's why you stay on the move. Don't have relationships."

He didn't speak the words as questions. He knew that was the reason

she refused to allow anything permanent between them. Now that he knew

the truth, he planned to make a significant change in her outlook. First he

had to find the bastard. And he would.

"It's just best that I don't invite trouble. I don't think he knows where I

am, but I can't risk anyone's life."

He wouldn't argue with her. After what she'd seen, she had no reason

to think otherwise. And she was correct. If Damon knew where she was and

she had any kind of relationships, he would see those people dead. The

bastard had proved that to her.

But there was one thing he had to say. She wouldn't believe it, but it

had to be said. He just hoped to God he wasn't the first person to say it to

her. "McKenna, you know that you're not responsible for your family's

death, don't you?"

Her expression was one of shocked disbelief as she shook her head.

"Of course I'm responsible, Lucas. I brought that monster into their lives."

Lucas went to her, kneeled at her feet, and took her hand. "No, Damon

Hughes committed those murders. Not you. You were just as much a victim

as your family."

Her head continued to shake. He knew he wouldn't be able to

convince her with that one statement, but he hoped that at some point she

could see that she hadn't been responsible.

Getting to his feet, he pulled her into his arms and whispered, "Thank

you for telling me."

As her head snuggled against his chest, a plan began to form in his

mind. One that he knew McKenna would not approve of and would be

furious if she knew about. However, if it worked, it was worth the risk. It

was damn time Damon Hughes got a taste of his own medicine and received

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the justice he had coming to him.

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Thirteen

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Noah said. "When will you be ready

for a new assignment?"

Her grip on the phone tightened; McKenna chewed her lip in

indecision. Truth was, she could handle an assignment now. Other than the

need for a couple of extra hours sleep each night, she was completely

recovered. She hadn't worked an op in weeks. She needed to get back on the

job before she got rusty. So what was keeping her from telling Noah that she

was ready now?

Lucas
.

She didn't want to leave him yet. Yes, she would have to go very

soon, but she wanted to wait just a few more days. She had already

determined that once she left, she couldn't come back. It was too

dangerous...not only for Lucas but for her heart.

"You there?"

"Yes...sorry. I should be ready in about a week. Will that work for

you?"

"Anytime you're ready, we'll be ready to have you back. Just give me

a call." The phone went dead.

There had been no censure, no accusation in Noah's voice. He was

telling the truth. Noah didn't say things he didn't mean. One of the many

reasons she admired him. She might be an official LCR operative, but she

was still a free agent. She worked when she wanted to work. All LCR

operatives did.

Still, there was guilt. She pushed it away. One week--that was all she

had. In seven short days, she would be saying goodbye to Lucas for good.

"Want to take a run?"

McKenna whirled around, no longer startled when Lucas appeared

without her hearing him. She used to pride herself on being able to hear a

spider approach--her hearing was nearly that perfect. But Lucas could appear

as if from a fog, his footsteps so quiet. She had asked him how he did that,

and he had just shrugged it off. Not that it mattered, but she hoped it was

because she trusted him so much that he could come upon her without her