15
Teeth grinding and fists flexing, Mike strode from one end of the house to the other. Each step amplified his impatience.
Even now, Glory should be with him, but instead, she was with another man.
She dodged him. Cut him out.
She believed him capable of awful things.
Damn right he was capable—but only if she let him down.
Only to those who deserved it.
Briefly, he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let this happen. Not again. Thoughts of Jenn haunted him, and at
the same time . . . excited him.
Finding one perfect woman shouldn’t be this challenging. He’d failed with Jenn, but he wouldn’t fail with Glory.
Remembering Jenn, how she’d last looked, the gurgling sounds she made, assured him that he had to get to Glory now. No more waiting. Going through that level of disappointment once was bad enough—not that he would balk at what he had to do.
Glory would either measure up, she’d understand and accept their connection and what he needed from her, or he’d deal with
it. Today.
The slashing of rain against the window drew him. As he lifted aside the blinds, a great flash of lightning ripped across
the dark turbulent sky, followed seconds later by the rumbling growl of thunder. Perfect timing. The weather would hinder
others, making it easier for him to get to Glory.
Her choices would be slim: She could either accept her destiny—or join Jenn in hell.
To get the ball rolling, he packed the few things he had with him and set the suitcase by the garage door. He gave the rented
house a cursory glance but didn’t see anything out of place other than overflowing garbage. So what? He wasn’t a housekeeper.
He was a man of means who usually had others serving him.
It was because of Glory that he was here, slumming it in this outdated, humble home in a town just outside Hoker, Kentucky.
The mere thought had his lip curling.
More than ready to put it all behind him, he picked up a new prepaid cell phone and called Shara. Three rings sounded, then
four, and his rage ratcheted up. Jenn had once dared to ignore his calls.
Worse, Glory had his number blocked. For that, she’d pay.
Did Shara now dare ignore his calls? Images of the three women floated in and out of his vision. Glory, a blonde. Jenn, raven-haired.
And Shara—who didn’t measure up to either of them, with her plain brown hair . . .
Why, that miserable little bitch—Mike caught himself. With the new number, Shara might not know it was him. Certainly, she wouldn’t deliberately avoid answering. She, at least, was rightfully terrified of him.
Unlike Jenn, who’d grown insulting at the end.
And Glory, who pretended indifference to their obvious connection.
He was still stewing, fury expanding to every pore of his being, when he heard a tentative, “Hello?”
The fearful squeak of Shara’s voice grounded him back in reality. Amused, even mollified, he smiled. “Shara, Shara, Shara.
You took an awfully long time to answer.”
“Leon?” she gasped. “I . . . I didn’t realize . . .”
God, he was sick of hearing that alias. “If you’d known it was me, you would have answered right away?”
“Yes.” Then with bitterness: “You didn’t give me a choice.”
No, he didn’t. He’d told her in explicit terms the consequences of snubbing him. Glory got by with it while she came to grips
with things, but any other woman, especially a useless bitch like Shara? If she tried it, she’d find the same fate as Jenn.
Mood lightened, he stood by the window looking out. “You went to Kam, didn’t you?” It was an easy assumption. Terrified women
naturally sought a protector. Very soon, Glory would seek him.
“I . . . No.”
“Shara,” he scolded with silky menace.
“I mean, yes, I did.” A small sob escaped her. “I didn’t know what else to do!”
He smiled at her uncertainty. “You want this over and done with, don’t you?” When she didn’t reply, likely unsure of what
he meant, he steered her along. “I assume you’d like to get back to your life with me out of the picture?
“Yes,” she breathed in a rush. “I mean . . . What do you want me to do?”
“If I tell you, you’ll do it?”
A load of hesitancy preceded her whispered, “Yes.”
“Perfect. I’m sure we can wrap this up in no time at all. But remember, Shara, if you cross me, I will end you. No one, not
a cop, not a boyfriend or a bodyguard, will be able to protect you. One dark night, you’ll wake up from a deep sleep and find
me there. Do you understand me?”
Tearful now, she whimpered, “Yes.”
Satisfied, Mike got moving, grabbing his wallet and a rain slicker. From the garage of the rented house, he stowed the suitcase
into the black SUV he’d borrowed from a friend who was out of the country. No one would recognize it, and no one would link it to him. The house wasn’t rented
in his name. The car wasn’t his. The few people he’d dealt with—Shara, the grocery store clerk, the young man at the phone
store—knew him only as Leon.
As he drove away from the house, he accepted that Kam might be a problem, but he couldn’t prove anything. Shara would be too
afraid to assist him, and if not, then he’d kill her. Easy-peasy.
Gleefully, he acknowledged that he’d thought of everything.
While he drove, he spent several more minutes taunting her. Shara deserved it for letting him down, but now, finally, she’d
be useful.
When he’d gotten near enough to his destination, he said, “Meet me in the park.”
“The . . . park? But it’s storming.”
“You won’t melt. Park by the south entrance. I’m in a blue sedan,” he lied. “Once you arrive, you’ll join me.”
Breathing more heavily, she stammered, “Join you?”
“So I can pay you for your trouble.”
“You . . . you won’t hurt me?”
“Not unless you disobey me. Show up, collect your money, keep your mouth shut, and you’ll be back to your usual abysmal life
in no time.”
Audible breathing carried through the line. And then finally, “Okay.”
“Fifteen minutes, Shara. No more than that or you’ll make me angry.” With that last threat given, he disconnected—and grinned.
Knowing Shara would turn to Kam again, and that Kam would try to set him up, he cautiously drove toward the street adjacent to where
Glory lived. To avoid running into Kam, he took his time. He wanted the bigger man gone before he arrived. He had to time
this perfectly.
This was his chance to get to Glory. At first, he’d been worried about her injuries—injuries she thought he’d carelessly caused.
For that alone, she deserved a little pain, plus her broken ribs would make her easier to control.
Once Kam headed to the park, he’d be far enough away that Mike could grab Glory and get out of town.
She’d be alone. Vulnerable.
It would be their time—and she’d learn what it meant to belong to him.
“Are you absolutely certain you don’t want me to bring in a stylist for your hair?”
Knowing how her hair looked, Glory barely hid her grin. Poor Liz struggled more with Glory’s unkempt appearance than Glory
herself. It wasn’t that she liked being messy, but Kam truly didn’t seem to mind, and that made it matter less to her. Just
being her true self, in attitude and looks, was nice for a change. Very relaxing.
Holding humor at bay became especially difficult when Addie said, “Leave her be, Liz. She’s dealing with enough without worrying
about her hair.” Remembering how they’d laughed at her last time, Addie added, “Even without it being styled, it’s still cute.”
“Thank you.” It amazed Glory that Addie and Liz had become such good friends. In every way, they were very different women.
Today, Addie wore her usual jeans with a loose-fitting pink T-shirt. A breeze had mussed her gray-streaked blond hair but
her blue eyes were as mischievous as ever. Liz wore a chic designer sundress that fit her toned body to perfection. Her hair,
cut in an asymmetrical style, remained perfect, as if a breeze wouldn’t dare disrupt it. Her blue eyes, darker than Addie’s
and showcased with subtle makeup, assessed everyone and everything, most specifically Glory’s hair.
With a smile, Liz stroked a hand along Glory’s crown, smoothing back a wayward tress that kept falling forward. “I miss being
able to give you suggestions.”
“Don’t you mean orders?” Callie said from the kitchen.
Liz sniffed. “Glory, at least, always listened . . . Unlike that one.”
“That one, Mom?” Callie stepped into the living space with a taunting grin. “I’m your daughter.”
“Well, I’ve always thought of Glory as my daughter, too.” As Liz said it, she finger-stroked Glory’s hair, still trying to
manage it. Shooting a sharp gaze at Callie, she added, “The daughter who listened.”
The teasing went on around her, but Glory was blank, thunderstruck by Liz’s sentiment. I’ve always thought of Glory as my daughter, too. Was it true? If so, why hadn’t Liz said something before now?
Coming into the house with PB, Kam glanced her way and then did a double take. He’d already removed his rain jacket and shoes,
and he had PB wrapped in a towel. In a single swift glance, he took in the situation and quickly nosed closer. Without an
explanation, he handed the dog to Callie, edged his way around Liz, and seated himself beside Glory.
The storm had left his face dewy and his hair damp. He smelled of the fresh outdoors, and she wanted to curl into him. Instead, she smiled. “You don’t have to run to my rescue.”
“No, but I missed you.” He leaned in for a kiss, and a second later, said to Liz, “Love the quilt.”
The compliment redirected her from Glory’s hair. “It perfectly matches her decor, don’t you think?”
“It really does. Now when she sleeps out here, she’ll look so stylish.”
Totally missing the irony in his words, Liz beamed. “Exactly.” Chin elevated and smile satisfied, she stated to Kam, “We McCallahans
can deal with anything and still look classy.”
From the kitchen, Addie called, “Liz, come in here with me and leave those lovebirds alone while we finish lunch.”
Rushing, Liz explained, “Addie needs me,” and off she went.
“You’re a wizard,” Glory whispered.
“Nah. I just have a way with women.”
She nearly choked on her laugh.
Seeing that they were alone, he asked, “What was the problem?”