Chapter 23
23
ALTA
“ S hhh, it’s okay, Lady,” Cas whispered over and over in my ear while his hand stroked down my back. But my heart continued to race faster as the image of the murder scene behind me continued to flash in my mind.
“It’s in my head. It’s not real. It’s not real,” I whispered into his shirt. “Tell me I’m crazy.”
Rough calluses scraped down my damp cheek, but he didn’t make a move to push me away from the safety of his hold. “You’re not crazy. I see it.”
“Please tell me it’s not what I think it is,” I choked out. “Please tell me someone didn’t….” I couldn’t finish the thought.
Seconds ticked by before he responded. “They did.”
The sob I held in broke loose, rattling my shoulders as tears poured out of the corners of my closed eyes. The image of the poor murdered chipmunks flashed before my eyes, causing bile to churn in my stomach.
“It’s meant for me, isn’t it?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. Someone had killed and staged them in the heart shape, and we were the only ones on the remote trail that afternoon.
“We need to get out of here,” Cas said before peeling me from his strong chest, dark eyes searching mine. “We’ll have to walk past it. Do you want me to carry you?”
I shook my head even though I desperately wanted to say yes. Long fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed. Keeping my eyes focused on the rocky terrain, I followed each of Cas’s footsteps. Where he stepped, I stepped. Taking a wide diversion, we climbed back onto the trail minutes later.
“I… I need to… I need to stop,” I breathed and shook my hand loose of his. My knees slammed onto the rock. My breaths turned to short pants, each eager inhale demanding more and more oxygen. At my side, Cas spoke, but the words were muffled like my ears were filled with cotton. I peered up, hoping he could talk me through the panic attack like he did last night, but instead of finding him, my gaze zeroed in on the disturbing display.
A flick of movement caught my eye.
Then another.
I gasped. My hand flew up to my mouth to suppress a gag.
“What?” Cas roared and wheeled around to where I pointed with the hand not clasped against my lips. “What the fuck is it, Alta? Talk to me.”
“They’re….” I turned and dry heaved. Fist kneading my stomach, I tried to breathe through my nose and out my mouth. “They’re not dead,” I finally got out. At my words, I pivoted and gagged again.
Some sick, deranged person left injured, suffering, innocent chipmunks. For me.
As a sign of love, hate, or maybe a bit of both, which I learned a long time ago was called obsession.
Cas took one step toward the injured animals, then turned back with his brows furrowed and lips pursed deep in thought. Closing the space between us once again, he shoved his gun into my hands and wrapped my fingers around the grip. “I’m going to take care of it.” A loud, painful whimper made his concerned wrinkles deepen. “Hold it together, okay? I need you to hold it together for a few more minutes. If you see anything, shoot, you hear me?”
Shock overtook my body and began the process of shutting it down little by little. My fingers and toes were the first to tingle, then grow numb. All outside noises ceased; only the steady rhythm of my pulse thundering in my ears remained. The grip of the gun felt weightless in my palm while the scene around me blurred.
Something gripped my shoulders and shook me forward and backward. My neck stopped wanting to hold up my head, allowing it to loll from side to side with each jostle. I needed to pull out of it, wanted to be strong, but I was tired. So, so tired.
Darkness encroached from the corners of my eyes, sealing off my vision until everything was dark, even with my eyes open.
Internally, I thrashed against the growing dark cloud, desperate to wake up, to watch for more threats.
But for the first time in a long time, the panic attack won, and I gave in to the blissful pull the darkness offered, knowing I would be safe, with him.
“Why isn’t she waking up?” someone said close by, the voice familiar enough to not cause fear even though I still couldn’t see.
An animal-type growl rumbled near me, and for some reason it made me want to smile—if I could work my facial muscles. “She walked up on some psychotic asshole’s makeshift heart made out of tortured rats.” That time my lips responded, ticking upward. “That would be enough to send anyone into shock, but add in her past—” A loud, frustrated groan vibrated in my ears. “We should call a doctor.”
“Chipmunks,” I somehow got out past my desert-dry throat and mouth. Willing my eyes to open, I blinked several times before the two men’s faces cleared. Cas was at my side, hand tangled in my hair within seconds.
“What?” he asked. Concern and worry dripped from his words, making my heart flutter with something I couldn’t identify.
“Not rats, chipmunks.” Ribbed material pressed into my palm as I pushed to sit up. My mouth fell open. We weren’t at the park anymore. Somehow he got me back down the mountain, into the truck and back home all without me waking.
“Jiminy cricket, my head,” I said with a tight breath. Leaning forward, I wrapped both hands around my skull and pressed hard to ease the throbbing.
“Here.” He moved one of my hands from my head and set two small capsules in the palm. I squinted up to find a glass of water held out as well. “It’s Tylenol. It’ll help.”
I stared at the glass. I knew there was nothing in the water. He wouldn’t do that to me. But still, I couldn’t take it from his hand. My throat seemed to crack and bleed from dryness the longer I looked at the thirst-quenching goodness, but the battle raged in my mind. One side desperate for the relief the water would provide, the other flinging up horrible memories of being drugged and the days that followed.
The fear won.
With a sad smile, I looked to Benny, whose head rested on the couch with his dark brown eyes staring up. “Water,” I said and pointed toward the kitchen. Like he was happy to be useful in the situation, he trotted to the kitchen. The scratching of his nails against wood made both men’s heads swivel toward the kitchen just as Benny rounded the lower cabinets, bottle of water clutched between his jaws.
“If that dog can do that with a beer, I might steal him,” Chandler laughed. The seat cushions popped up as he fell to the couch beside me and stretched a long arm down the back.
Now for the Tylenol. The water bottle crackled in my hand as I withdrew it from Benny’s teeth. Holding it to my ear, I listened to the snapping of the plastic pieces before twisting the cap off and chugging half in one swig.
A loud pop of the bottle releasing from the pressure made me flinch. Inspecting the two white tablets in my hand, I hesitantly placed both on the back of my tongue and took a long gulp of water.
Seconds ticked by with none of us saying anything until I couldn’t take it any longer.
“What happened?” I leaned back against the couch and massaged my temples with both thumbs. “I remember the chipmunks—” The now-clear memory shot me back up.
Cas cringed. “I took care of them,” he said in a dead tone, and my heart broke all over again for the poor innocent creatures. “Hauled you down the mountain. Thank goodness the trail going down was easier than the way up. When you didn’t wake up in the truck, I called this dipshit, brought you here. That was—” Looking over his shoulder toward the kitchen, he sighed. “—ten minutes ago.”
If my math was right, which it probably wasn’t, that meant I’d been out for over thirty minutes.
Goose bumps sprouted down my arms. I didn’t realize I was rubbing my hands up and down them until a thick blanket covered me. Resting my chin on my shoulder, I smiled up at Cas. “Thank you.”
“Listen, Birdie,” Chandler said and leaned a little closer. “Mathews and I were talking it all over while you were out, and none of this makes sense. The bastard in the Smokies never stalked women this way, so it’s odd that he’s started with you.”
“You think I’m lying?” I couldn’t keep the hurt out of my voice. Before the notes started, I’d told my supervisor at the time about some random customer who gave me the creeps, which he blew off as me being a dramatic female. Then again when the notes began to appear. No one took me seriously until Dad stepped in and vouched for my… sanity, I guess.
“No.” The coffee table made a pained groan as Cas’s weight settled on the edge. Leaning forward, he gripped my hands in his and squeezed. “We need to know a few things though. Could this be in any way related to what happened in Texas ten years ago?”
I tugged the blanket tighter around my cold shoulders and gripped the edges in one hand to gnaw on the thumb of the other. “There’s no way.” I focused on a chip in the coffee table until it blurred in my vision. “He died.”
“Are you sure?” Chandler pressed.
Still focused on the chipped wood, I nodded. “My roommate shot him in front of me. See, we’d made plans to meet up in Dallas before Thanksgiving, but I didn’t show or answer any of her messages. Beth came back to school to make sure I was okay.” Needing space, I stood on shaky legs and began to pace the room. “She walked in on him—” Embarrassment flooded my veins, heating my cheeks and urging me to tighten the blanket as a makeshift shield. I faced the wall. “He had me tied down on the bed and was too focused on me to notice her come through the front door. Not everything is clear because of how high he kept me those few days, but I remember the gunshots, all five of them.”
“Your roommate happened to have a gun?” Chandler asked.
My shoulders rose and fell as I nodded and smiled. “That's a Texas woman for you. We’re always packing. He was pronounced dead at the scene. Beth put five 9mm slugs in his chest.”
“How’d—”
“Later they told me he spotted her and charged, leaving a clear shot for her.” I cleared my throat. “So your answer is there’s no way he could be a part of this. He’s dead, really dead. And considering no one came forward to claim the body or charge Beth in a civil suit, I assume he didn’t have any family.”
“Peters will confirm,” Cas said, still on the other side of the room.
My stomach sank at the distance between us.
“Anyone else know about what happened in Texas?” Peters asked.
Summoning up a bit of courage, I glanced over my shoulder. Cas stood with a shoulder against the wall, looking out the back window.
“John, I guess. I told him about it, and my friend Sarah, but she’s in Denver now. Only those two. I don’t open up about it a lot, but I trust them.”
“We’re done,” Cas stated, still focused on something out the window. “You have enough to go off of, and the original file you gave me. Go do your motherfucking job and find out what this is all about.”
Shocked at his rude tone and words, I swiveled around with a scowl, expecting to find a pissed-off Chandler, but it was the exact opposite. Smiling, he stood from the couch and tucked his T-shirt deeper into his jeans.
“Yep, I have what I need, and looks like you do too, fucker.” Eyes locked with mine, his smile grew. “And you know what? I’m happy for you. Don’t fuck it up.” On his way to the door, Chandler stopped beside me. “I’ll be back later tonight, but don’t worry. We’ll catch this guy.”
“I’m as confused as you two. Why me? He didn’t put this much effort into the other women.”
“Maybe you’re special,” Chandler said, his happy smile dipping to a frown.
“I’m so fucking tired of being special,” I whined. “I want to be normal. What is it about me that attracts men like this?”
“It’s not about you.” He gripped my shoulder and squeezed. “It’s about them and power, nothing else. There’s nothing you could’ve done differently. My guess is he saw you at a crime scene and has decided to have a little fun with you before attempting to snag you.”
I pulled the blanket up to my mouth in hopes to cover my whimper.
“We won’t let anything happen to you,” Chandler said with a steely look of determination in his eyes. “And that guy”—he tipped his head toward the corner of the room where Cas stood, arms crossed, watching us—“is the best I’ve ever had the privilege of serving and working with. No one will get past him.” A nod to Cas and he was gone.
Seconds after the door shut, I reached for the locks.
Once.
Twice.
At the third click of each deadbolt, I turned to lean my back against the door. Cas’s dark eyes caught my immediate attention. Intensity pulsed between us. The air in the cabin shifted, heating my core as we gazed at each other in silence.
He moved first. Shoving off the door, I matched him step for step until we collided in the middle of the room. Arms around his waist, I nuzzled against his chest as he rested his chin on the crown of my head. The still mysterious unlimited warmth soaked into my skin, heating me to the bones.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll find out who’s doing this, and I’ll kill them.”
My muscles tightened at the coldness in his words, so at odds to the firm, steady beat of the heart pounding in my ear.
“I don’t want you to kill whoever’s doing this.”
His near scoff tightened his chest muscles beneath my cheek.
“I’ve seen what it does to someone. Each life you take, a piece of you fades, and I don’t want that for you. Not for this. Not for me.”
I gasped in surprise as he shoved me back and his fingers gripped my chin, holding me in place. Eyes blazing with an intimidating fury, he gritted out, “I’ll go to Hell and back to keep you safe. Don’t worry about my soul, Lady. It’s already gone. But you.” His dark eyes softened. “You’re the one worth saving.”
An ache radiated from my chest into my belly. “How could you even say that?” My eyes searched his, hoping to find some humor there, but I found none. “You’re not gone. None of us are. Until we’re dead in the ground, none of us are past the point of saving. Even you, Cas Mathews.” Sometime during my passion-filled words, I had gripped his black T-shirt and fisted the soft cloth between my fingers.
Sadness engulfed his features, almost resembling pity. “Lady, I love your optimism. I do. But I know the truth. I was nothing when I came into this world, and I’ll be nothing when I leave it. You’re the only good thing I’ve had in my life, and even that’s temporary.”
Tears welled. “You think I’m good?” After everything, I needed to know a piece of me was still pure, still good.
“You’re a motherfucking angel, Lady. Don’t you ever forget it. You hear me?” His fingers tightened on my chin. “Not for one damn minute do you ever forget that you’re the best person I’ve ever met.”
I wasn't the type of woman to kiss a man—that took confidence in one's sexuality, which I lacked—yet I pressed to my tiptoes and pressed my dry lips against his anyway.