The soft click of Ivy’s door shutting behind me made Cam’s head come up from her spot on the couch. The hall was dark and long, and she waited for me to close the distance before breaking the silence.
“She asleep?” she asked.
I nodded. “Will be soon anyway.”
“She’s not normally this hysterical, honestly. It’s kind of surprising to see her acting like—”
I shook my head and held up a hand, and Camilla stopped talking.
“I told her some things. About me. About Grace. I didn’t really think about what that would do to her ability to act it out.”
“What kinds of things?” she asked immediately, not nearly as careful with my feelings as her sister. For as weird as things had started between us, it was amazing how easily we’d fallen into sibling type roles.
I chuckled. “None of your business.”
“Yeah, sure. She’ll tell me if I ask her. She tells me everything.”
I glanced over my shoulder, back down the hall, and pictured the woman who was so emotionally invested in my life—in the things I’d told her—that she was having anxiety attacks over putting herself back in the role of Grace.
My smirk was small but effective. “Not this, she won’t.”
Cam rolled her eyes and then moved them back to her book before asking, “I’m assuming you’re staying the night?”
The floor creaked as I started moving again, a slow advance to the hook by the door where my coat hung.
“Yeah. After I run home real quick for a change of clothes.”
“What’s the matter? Not to the sleeping naked portion of the relationship yet?” she teased.
I shook my head and smiled as I pulled the door open. “I said a spare set of clothes. Not pajamas.”
She stuck out her tongue and smiled, but I didn’t wait for her to say anything else. Instead, I stepped outside and closed the door behind me.
“Hey, man,” Dane greeted. “You headin’ out?”
“I just have to run home, but I’ll be back.”
I noticed him nod in my periphery as I looked at the shining light through the mostly closed blinds. I thought about the women inside and fought against the pull in my gut. The flowers and the heart on the windshield and the gift in Ivy’s dressing room. All of it felt like a record on repeat.
Flashes of the past taunted me with my mistakes and dared me to give love a go again. A vision of Grace on the floor of Walter Gaskins’s kitchen made me close my eyes.
“You don’t get distracted for a second, okay?” I ordered.
The bounce of Dane’s head was enthusiastic as he assured me of his vigilance. “No worries, man. I got this.”
With a clasp of his shoulder and a jerky nod, I moved away from the front door and climbed into my truck.
It started up quickly, and before I knew it, the cold air and the hot exhaust had mixed to close me in a white cloud of smoke. Eager to get home and back, I rushed the warm-up process and shifted into reverse.
The driveway was long, and I paused at the end to survey the surroundings. No lights, no sounds, the road was as abandoned as was to be expected on a weeknight at almost midnight.
Only the critters were active, glowing eyes and peeking positions at the side of the road as they ventured out for nighttime meals.
When the quiet became too much, I switched on the radio and pulled out of the drive, headed for home.
It was a short trip, about a mile and a half one way, but as the darkness yawned before me and as the distance between Ivy and me got larger, it felt like forever.
Unease and dread coated the end of “Blowing in the Wind” by Peter, Paul, and Mary, and I welcomed the change of song as it came to a close.
But the reprieve was short-lived.
The first notes of “Blue Bayou” were just as eerie as always, and my heart kicked into overdrive.
Goddamn, someone needs to outlaw this fucking song.
A flash caught my eye in the reflection in my mirror, and I slammed on the brakes to scout what I’d seen. Roy sang on about seeing his baby again, and my chest got tight.
With one swift move after another, I shifted into reverse and slammed my foot to the floor. The truck swung around violently, and I threw it into drive, back in the direction I’d come.
I couldn’t describe my mania as anything more than a feeling, but feelings were meant to be felt.
Life and love and goddamn intuition didn’t work as well when you were numb. Ivy had been the one to teach me that.
The driveway came up fast, and I took the turn entirely too quickly.
Gravel sprayed as I sped up the long road to the end and slid to a stop right behind Dane’s cruiser.
The front of the house was noticeably empty, and my eyes scoured the siding desperately for the contrast of Dane’s dark uniform.
I didn’t even bother with closing the door as I climbed from the truck and rushed back up onto the front porch and straight for the front door.
I had my hand to the knob, ready to enter, when a glint of light pierced me in the eye from the bush at the side of the porch. I moved slowly, cautiously, to the edge and put to my hand to my gun at the side of my hip.
Brown leaves and leftover snow, the landscaping was a perfect depiction of the cold mess our little town fell into every winter.
But there was something else there, among the shrubbery and ice.
Blond hair and innocent, open eyes—and a five-inch slash across his throat.
Fuck. Oh God, no.
With no time to mourn Dane now, I swore to do it later as I moved back to the front door and pushed my way into the house.
The crack of the door against the wall startled the man and woman wrestling on the couch into a spin, and the knife in his hand settled on her creamy white throat.
“Levi!” she yelled, startled eyes and determination coloring her face bright pink.
I lifted my gun and trained it on the intruder.
“What the fuck is going on here?” I asked, trying to calm the surge of adrenaline enough to figure out the answer. “Boyce?”
His eyes were wild and his appearance disheveled as he pushed the large, already bloodied blade farther into her delicate throat.
“She’s mine,” he said softly, all traces of sane Hollywood producer gone. He’d been replaced by a desperate psychopath. “I’ve seen you with her, but I’m the one she’s meant to be with.”
Red hair and green eyes and with all the threat to life I could handle, I closed one eye and lined up the shot, right in the middle of Boyce’s eyes. As soon as I was sure I could hit him clean, I’d take it.
“Please, Boyce,” she said. “Camilla’s sleeping.”
My heart seized.
“Can’t we go somewhere and talk about this?”
His laugh was manic. “Now? Now, you want to talk?”
I pulled back on the trigger slightly, ready with just a tap as soon as he gave me the opportunity.
They were too fucking close together, her head just slightly in front of his, and desperation ran hot inside my veins as I strived to find an open shot.
But Boyce knew my challenge and did everything in his power to keep them in motion while holding the knife firmly beside her neck.
They bobbed and they weaved, and then…it was too late.
Too late to talk.
“It’s too late to talk. You should have thought about that before. The only way you’re leaving here, leaving me, is dead.”
Too late to stop him.
Boyce’s arm moved swiftly and without warning, dragging across her throat just as I pulled the trigger. Both of them hit the floor together.
Nothing but agony and prayer, I ran for the two of them and fell to my knees in a pool of blood. It was large, warm, and growing, and my hands shook as it coated them.
“Oh God, no,” I cried, hoarse and depleted, slippery hands covering the wound and feeling for a pulse.
Slow already and slowing by the second, the beat faded under my fingers like a passing gust of wind.
Nothing would ever be the same, and everything I loved was right back where it’d started.
Destroyed. Broken. Gone forever.
All I’d wanted was a second chance.
What I got was a repeat.
This isn’t the end.
Coming Soon
May 20th, 2018
FOX
The Final Installment of the Stone Cold Fox Trilogy.
FOX TODAY
If you continue reading, there is an exclusive excerpt from FOX waiting for you at the end! ☺
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