“Do you think he’s still here?” I asked, knowing no one could really answer that.
“Hard to tell, but I doubt it. With the accident and the cops out on patrol, he’s probably hightailin’ it outta Dodge.”
I dropped my head into my hands and took deep, cleansing breaths. Poor Jo.
As I thought about the detective who had come here to protect me, anger seeped into my bloodstream, erasing some of the panic. After a few more deep breaths, I lifted my head and peered at the three people watching me.
“He has to be stopped,” I insisted.
“That he does,” Lynx agreed.
“So what do we do?” I asked, looking to Wolfe for answers. “How do we stop him?”
“Don’t know, darlin’, but we’ll figure somethin’ out.” He pulled me closer to him and his lips pressed to my forehead. “I promise you that.”
It was one thing to know he was coming after me, something else entirely for him to start eliminating random people. If he could take out a detective, it wasn’t far-fetched to believe he could take out Rhys and Wolfe, too.
My blood turned to ice, and for the first time in my life, I felt something other than fear when it came to Kelly Jackson.
No, this was something akin to a full-blown homicidal rage.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Monday, August 14, 2017
Wolfe
“No! Don’t! Please!”
My eyes flew open, my body jerking upright as my tired brain prepared to face the threat. Reaching for the lamp, I tugged the chain, and the room filled with a soft yellow glow.
The empty room, that was.
Beside me, Amy jerked, her voice a whimper. “No more, please! Don’t!”
Oh, fuck.
With a gentle hand, I shook her, trying to wake her from the apparent nightmare. With my voice little more than a whisper, I leaned closer. “Baby, wake up,” I urged. “Come on. You’re dreamin’.”
Her body jerked and her eyes opened. I noticed she was breathing hard and tears were streaming down her face.
When it appeared she was lucid, I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her close to my side. I brushed her sweat-dampened hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”
While I was giving Amy time to catch her breath, I heard the sound of the front door open, then close. Rhys was back and I was finally able to fully relax. I'd been asleep for about an hour, but it had been fitful, leaving me tossing and turning, my brain unable to shut down completely. Rhys had texted to let me know he was still working the scene and that he’d be home soon.
A few minutes later, the bed shifted.
“Hey,” I greeted, my voice rough from exhaustion.
“Hey.” Rhys leaned over and kissed Amy’s forehead. “What’s wrong?”
“Nightmare,” I answered for her.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked as he got situated, his body pressing close to Amy’s on the opposite side.
“It’s one I have all the time,” she said softly, her hand absently sliding over my chest.
Neither of us spoke, and I knew Rhys was waiting the same way I was, hoping Amy would continue to open up, to let us in.
