Text tio-4 Page 19

  Lex was hot on my heels as I raced into the living room, desperately looking for something I could use to defend myself.

  The contents of my purse were still spilled everywhere, and the cell phone was still lit up and open on the table. “Help me!” I screamed in the direction of the phone. “He has a gun!”

  Lex jumped me from behind, and I fell under him, onto my stomach and crying out as the glass in my thigh was shoved even deeper into my leg. Pain screamed through my body and tears filled my eyes.

  I couldn’t seem to think past the pain.

  Lex flipped me over and straddled me. I forgot about the pain as my hand closed over something lying on the floor and I brought it up and jammed it down into the top of his thigh.

  Lex shouted as the pen buried itself into his leg. Then I picked up a pack of Tic Tacs and threw it at his head. (What? I had to use what was available.)

  He knocked the mints away and then reached for the pen sticking out of his leg. I twisted beneath him and he fell sideways. We went rolling across the floor as I reached up and gouged my thumb into his eye socket.

  He jerked away and I followed him, ripping my gun out of his hand.

  “Please stop!” I cried. I knew he wouldn’t, but I admit, I yelled it for the benefit of the operator on the other end of the phone line.

  I wanted absolutely no doubt that what I was about to do was self-defense.

  Lex grabbed onto my ankle and grinned up at me. I kicked him in the face and blood bloomed around his teeth. He looked like some funhouse clown that had gone mad.

  With a single jerk, he sent me falling backward, landing on my back.

  Inside the bathroom, Lucy barked and I could hear her clawing at the door, trying to get out.

  “After you’re dead,” Lex said, crawling up my body. “I’m gonna screw your body before it turns cold.”

  I shot him.

  The bullet slammed into his shoulder and he recoiled. I scrambled out from under him and stood.

  “Honor!” Nathan screamed from downstairs, and my knees went weak with relief.

  “I’m up here!” I yelled, my voice sounding more like a squeak.

  Feet pounded on the stairs, and I moved to rush toward him. I wanted his arms around me. I wanted to see that he was okay.

  A hand closed around my ankle and jerked me back.

  I screamed.

  Lex laughed.

  Twisting quickly, without hesitation, I shot him in the head.

  Nathan skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs, his wide eyes going between Lex and me. I could only imagine what he saw. Me covered in blood with a busted lip and a heaving chest, holding a gun, while standing over a man with a bullet in his head.

  Reality crashed over me.

  The gun fell from my hand and bounced off the carpet.

  I shot someone.

  I killed him.

  My kidnapper was dead.

  “Honor,” Nathan said breathlessly and rushed across the room to wrap me in his arms. My body shook violently, so hard that my teeth chattered and my skin felt icy.

  “I killed him,” I said, shoving my face into his bare, blood-smeared chest.

  “You protected yourself, baby,” he murmured. “You did real good.”

  Police sirens drew closer and soon, the flashing blue-and-red lights filled the windows and the driveway.

  I felt lightheaded and I knew I lost a lot of blood. I pulled back from Nathan and looked at his side where the bullet entered his body.

  “It’s not so bad,” he murmured, tipping my chin up so I couldn’t look.

  “He was crazy,” I said, my voice hollow.

  “Hell yes, he was.” Nathan agreed, swiping the pad of his thumb across my chin. My lower lip was swollen again.

  The cops burst in the front door with weapons drawn. I weaved a little on my feet. Standing up was growing harder and harder.

  Nathan scooped me up in his arms and turned toward the cops. “I need a medic!” he roared.

  Then he glanced down into my face. “Just hang on, Honor.” He got this pinched look in his eyes. “Don’t you die on me.”

  I smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of dying. I have way too much to live for.”

  As my house filled with emergency workers and medical personnel, Nathan and I held each other’s gaze.

  “Me too,” he murmured, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Me too.”

  EPILOGUE

  Honor

  One Year Later…

  Flashbulbs exploded everywhere around us, blinding me, and I tried not to recoil. This night had been everything that dreams are made of, but all the attention, the crowds, and the noise was starting to wear on me.

  Nathan wrapped a solid hand around mine and pulled me through the crowd toward the waiting limo. He held the door while I slid across the black leather seats, and he followed me in, shutting the door behind us.

  “Holy cow,” I gasped. “That was awesome and insane all at the same time!”

  “Better get used to it. You’re a celebrity now.”

  “I think you’re more popular than I am.” I smiled coyly from my side of the very long seat.

  Nathan grinned and pushed off the door, slipping right up alongside me so we were pressed together, hip to ankle. “It’s only because this author I know wrote this book about me that made me look like a real hero.”

  I climbed into his lap. The red gown I was wearing made it hard to move so I bunched it up around my thighs. “All I did was tell our story.”

  “You did more than that,” he said, pride filling his voice. “You gave a voice to every single victim out there.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but I did pray that I gave hope to some. Once the questioning, the media frenzy, and the funeral of Mary (her body was found weeks later, disposed in a crude shallow grave on the mountain) was over, Nathan and I settled into life together.

  Being with him was more than I could have ever asked for. He made me so incredibly happy that I couldn’t begin to regret being kidnapped.

  But it wasn’t something I was able to get over so quickly either. Nightmares, visions of Lex with a bullet wound in his head, and anxiety were all side effects of what happened.

  Through it all, Nathan was there. He understood better than most people could. He never pushed, but his quiet strength was always there. He never complained when my screaming woke him in the night, and he put all his guns out of sight until I could look at one without feeling panic claw at my lungs.

  I might have been the one to write a book about what happened to me, a book that debuted on the New York Times bestseller list and remained there to this day. I might have been the one whose name flashed in the credits on the big screen after the movie that was based on my book—based on us—premiered tonight. But Nathan was the one who encouraged me to write it.

  After watching me go through various stages of anger and guilt, he suggested I write it all down. That I sit and type out how I was kidnapped, what it was like to be in that hole. He told me that even if the book never saw the light of day, it could be a means of healing for me, a way to move on.

  And so I did.

  I wrote about everything. I wrote about Lex and the things he did to me. I wrote about the fear and loneliness that threatened to drag me down as I sat in that hole and stared up at the faraway sky. I told Mary’s story, and I gave a voice to the family that would forever mourn her. But the book wasn’t just about that. It was also a romance. It was the story of Nathan and me. It was the story of how love bloomed from a terrible thing and how it prevailed to this day.

  The war veteran and the writer, both survivors, both getting the happy ending they deserved.

  “I love you, Mrs. Reed,” Nathan murmured, kissing my lips.

  “I love you, too.”

  His palm slid up between us and covered my breast. I groaned and arched into his touch. We had made love about a thousand times in the past year, and I would never get tired of his touch, his feel, hi
s scent.

  “Can we skip the premiere party and go back to the hotel?” he said against my lips as his fingers rubbed over my hardened nipple.

  I moaned. “I wish.”

  He pulled his lips away and leaned his head against the seat. “A bestselling book, a movie deal, a press tour…” he listed. “What’s next?”

  “Well,” I said, fingering the ornate buttons on the Dress Blues he wore. “I was thinking we could buy a little place on the beach.”

  “Near Jacksonville?” he asked, his eyes lighting with interest.

  “Your hometown.” I smiled. “Think Lucy will like the beach?”

  He chuckled. “What will your mother say?”

  “Oh, I’m sure she’ll call and bug us twenty times a day.”

  “Patton called me the other day. He’s getting out of the Corps. I told him my idea about opening up a security firm.”

  “What did he say?” I said, excitement for Nathan unfurling in my belly.

  “He said he wanted in.” Nathan grinned like the cat that ate the canary.

  “Of course he did,” I replied, sliding my hands up his shoulders. “New house, new place, new business.”

  “I kind of always thought I’d do my twenty in the Corps and then spend my life alone. Yeah, I have my family in Jacksonville, but I didn’t think I’d have a family of my own.”

  I folded his hand in mine. “Do you regret getting out of the Marines?”

  He turned thoughtful and then he smiled. “No. That wasn’t the kind of life I wanted. Not anymore. Not for me. Not for you.”

  “Life’s too short to not get what you want,” I told him, remembering when he said those words to me as he gave me Lucy.

  “Exactly,” he murmured, cupping my face in his palms. “It’s a good thing I have everything I could ever ask for sitting right here in my lap.”

  One text is what started it all.

  A single text led us to forever.

  One text can change everything.

  The End

  TIPSY

  Sneak Peek

  by Cambria Hebert

  Julie

  How they met…

  Morning from hell. I was not a morning person. I never was, and I never would be. Getting up in the morning is pretty much the worst part of my day. Trying to drag myself out of a way comfortable bed where I am surrounded by fluffy pillows and soft bedding is pretty much the epitome of torture.

  Add an alarm that never shuts up and cold tile in the bathroom that feels like tiny needles being jammed into my skin and you have the makings for a very bitchy Julie.

  Thank goodness I lived alone. There was no way in hell any man could go up against the morning sunshine I projected.

  To make matters worse, I was running late. I hated being late. If I was late to work, it would throw off every appointment I had that day, and I would spend every single hour trying to play catch-up.

  I rushed around trying to get ready, pulling on a cotton dress because it was a hell of a lot harder to try and match clothes together when I was stumbling around like a living zombie (Wait. Zombies didn’t live. They were dead.) and then buckled a red patent leather belt around my waist on the way down the stairs. I would have to do my eye makeup at work and I would also have to touch up my hair.

  Glancing at the clock, I sighed and gave a longing glance at my kitchen where the coffee was kept.

  I didn’t have time for caffeine. I felt sorry for everyone who had to deal with me today.

  I grabbed my purse and rushed out the door and climbed into my little silver car. The air was already thick, and I knew soon, the summer heat was going to bear down on this town like a hungry woman at Waffle House.

  I turned out of my neighborhood and tore down the street, letting out an unladylike curse when I got caught by a red light.

  When it turned green, I sped around the corner and glanced at the clock. Five minutes.

  Flashing blue lights had me glancing in the rearview mirror. More unladylike curses exploded from my mouth as I pulled to the side of the road and prayed the cop would speed by.

  Of course he didn’t.

  He pulled to a stop behind me.

  I so did not have time for this.

  Why is it that police officers always pick on the innocent people who rarely ever speed, yet they never pull over the people who are complete assholes on the road all the time?

  Maybe I would ask him.

  He knocked on the window and I sighed. I wasn’t even going try to talk my way out of this one. It would be safer if I kept my mouth shut. It certainly would be cheaper.

  I pressed the button and my window rolled down.

  “License and registration, please,” said a voice from above.

  I let out another huffing sigh and leaned over, digging around in my bag and glove compartment for the items, and thrust them out the window while staring straight ahead. I could practically feel all the other drivers laughing at me as they drove past.

  It really didn’t improve my caffeine-deprived mood.

  A few minutes later, the police officer leaned down in the window. “Did you know you were violating the speed laws, ma’am?”

  Forget being quiet. I couldn’t do it. I turned my head and opened my lips to give him a less-than-polite answer.

  Every single word fled my brain. I mean, my vocabulary literally ran away. I couldn’t even blame it. There was no word that could compete with such a face.

  His eyes were such a deep blue that they held me captive in a single glance. He had a masculine and angular face, with a straight nose, full lips, and a cleft in the center of his chin. He was clean shaven and smelled so good that I actually leaned closer.

  Who in the hell actually leaned closer to an officer who wanted to give her a speeding ticket?

  He was lean, but not too thin, tall, and did his uniform justice. I was a little embarrassed to admit the gun strapped to his hip turned me on.

  And then I saw the handcuffs.

  I didn’t know I was a dirty ho until that moment. I imagined all kind of inappropriate things that would involve those handcuffs.

  He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Ma’am?”

  I glanced at him, once again struck by his eyes. I felt the need to lean even closer, but I stopped myself.

  “What?” I said, the word coming out a little harsher than I intended.

  I swear he stifled a smile. “You were speeding…” he said, trailing away.

  I couldn’t stop staring at the little dent in his chin. My tongue would fit in it perfectly. I cleared my throat. “I’m late for work.” The statement brought me back to reality. “Shit!” I yelled, hitting the steering wheel. “I’m late for work.”

  I winced and turned back to him. “Are you going to arrest me now?”

  He laughed. He actually threw his head back and laughed.

  God, he was sexy.

  “Where do you work?”

  “Right up the street at Razor’s Edge Salon.”

  “You make a habit of speeding through an intersection?”

  I made a frustrated sound. “Only on days I don’t get my coffee, have to get out of bed at ungodly hours, and…” Oh, crap, there I went again. I looked at him meekly. “No?”

  “No coffee, huh?”

  “No,” I grumped.

  He sighed and straightened. He pulled a pad out of his pocket and then proceeded to write on it. I wondered how much this was going to cost me.

  A minute later, he handed me back my ID and registration. I put them away and turned back to collect my sentence.

  He put the notepad back in his pocket.

  “Isn’t that for me?”

  He leaned back down in the window, bracing his forearms on the side of the car. “Nope. It’s for me.”

  I felt my forehead crease. “I know I’m not properly caffeinated, but don’t people who speed usually get tickets?”

  “Usually,” he agreed.

  I lifted my e
yebrows. I was back to being unable to speak. He was incredibly close.

  “I’m going to let you off with a warning this time.”

  I made a sound that might have broadcast like an agreement.

  He grinned. “On one condition.”

  I scowled. “I read an article about this once. Officers of the law letting people go in exchange for… favors.”

  He chuckled. “Is that so?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not that kind of girl, Officer Shady.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, and I felt my cheeks heat. That’s good, Julie. Insult a cop.

  “Are you the kind of girl who would go on a date with a shady police officer?”

  My hands broke out in a clammy sweat. Did he just ask me out? “That depends,” I said saucily.

  What the hell is wrong with me this morning?

  At the rate my day was going, I was going to shave off someone’s eyebrow and turn their hair green.

  “On?”

  “How many times this admitted shady cop has pulled women over to ask them out on dates.”

  He flashed a smile and my heart stuttered. “Never.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I wanted to. “If I agree, will you let me go to work?”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay, then.”

  He smiled again and straightened, putting on his hat. “Watch your speed,” he said, tapping the side of my door with his fingers.

  “Don’t you want my number?”

  He leaned down once more. “Already got it. What do you think I was writing down?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s abuse of your job.”

  He chuckled. “You gonna call my boss and rat me out?”

  Hell no, I wasn’t. “Maybe.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said softly.

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because, Julie,” he drawled, and I swear my name on his lips made me lightheaded, “you want to go out with me.”