Chapter Fifty-Eight
“I only did what was necessary,” Edward assured CJ.
This couldn’t be happening.
Couldn’t be real.
He couldn’t have . . .
Wait. Stay calm.
CJ had to remember that she was alone with him in his home. The cops outside couldn’t help her if they didn’t know she was in danger. She had to play this out. Stay calm. Try to survive.
She forced air into her lungs. “Sometimes that’s what we have to do.” The words came out far steadier than she’d expected. Images of her sister running through those woods kept flashing in front of her eyes. He couldn’t be saying that he’d killed Shelley.
That wasn’t possible.
“That’s so true.” He smiled. “Unpleasant, but true.”
Think! She needed an excuse to get out of this room.
She glanced at the melting ice cream on the pristine white carpet. “I’m sorry. I’ve made a mess. I should clean it up.”
He caught her by the arm when she tried to move past him. “Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll have it cleaned.”
“All right.” She pushed a smile into place, felt her lips tremble despite her best efforts. “Wine would be good. We can toast the future. And closure on the past.”
He stared into her eyes for a long moment. She prayed with all her heart that he wouldn’t see the fear . . . the lie.
“That’s a marvelous idea.”
He kept his fingers wrapped around her arm and led the way to the stairs and then down. Each step sent her heart into a faster, more panicked rhythm. When they reached the entry hall, all she had to do was get away from him and run out the front door.
The police were right outside.
As if he’d sensed her thought, his grip tightened when they reached the entry hall. He held on so tight it hurt. She kept her mouth shut, pretended not to notice.
There was a rear entrance in the kitchen.
There were knives in the kitchen.
She would find a way to escape. She could do it.
The silence boomed in her ears. Should she say something? Anything?
When they reached the kitchen, he loosened his grip but didn’t let go. He paused in front of the wine fridge. “How about that sweet white you love so much?”
“That would be wonderful.” She swallowed back the panic. “I love the bubbles.” What should she do? Panic swam in her veins.
He pulled a bottle from the fridge. His gaze settled on CJ once more.
“I’m so glad we’ve gotten the ugliness out of the way.
I don’t want anything standing between us.
” He stared at the label on the bottle of wine.
“Shelley made your life so unhappy. She made her own life equally miserable. She’s at rest now. It’s for the best.”
Emotion rammed against CJ’s sternum. She fought the rising sobs. Couldn’t let herself break down. But she couldn’t believe he would kill Shelley. It just didn’t seem possible. “Edward . . .” She moistened her trembling lips. “Surely it was an accident. You didn’t mean to—”
He slammed the bottle on the counter and glared at her. “Shelley was a sniveling whore. I could not let her ruin all that I’d worked for.”
CJ’s entire body shook. She tried to stop it. Couldn’t. “But she was my sister.” This was too much. It couldn’t be . . .
His fingers dug into her flesh where he held her arm. “Are you questioning my decision?” His eyes were wild with fury. “After all I’ve done?”
CJ forced her head to move side to side. “I just . . .” Think! Don’t push him too far!
“You just what?” he demanded.
“You killed her.” She searched the cold eyes—the face—she didn’t recognize. “Ricky? Juanita? Cost? I just don’t understand how you could have done this.”
“Mother warned me that you weren’t suitable.”
The icy fury in his voice sent a new rush of fear crowding into her chest.
“But I refused to listen. I knew.” His expression turned wistful. “I knew without a doubt that I could nurture you, mold you into perfection. She tried to stop me, but I defied her every challenge. Ignored her every warning. You were worth any sacrifice.”
“Edward.” She had to make him see this was insane. “You’re . . . you’re not well. This isn’t rational.”
He grabbed her with both hands. Shook her hard. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
Heart pounding in her ears, she mentally scrambled for the right answer. She had to get the situation back under control. Had to escape. Arguing with him would only push him further over the edge. “I—I didn’t mean to question—”
“Do you have any idea what I gave up for you?” he roared.
“I struggled my entire life to live up to her standards. To prove I was worthy. Not like my father. But then I found you, and she . . .” Fury flashed in his eyes, flared his nostrils.
“She tried to stop me. But I loved you more than her. I would not be stopped. Not by anyone.”
Dear God.
“I’m sorry.” CJ forced her lips to stretch into a wobbly smile.
“Of course. You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.
You did exactly what needed to be done. They .
. . they were in the way of our future. How could I possibly be upset by all your hard work?
You saved me.” Tentatively, she reached up as if to hug him.
He resisted at first. “Forgive me, Edward. I was a fool not to recognize immediately the brilliance in what you’d done. ”
For one endless moment he hesitated.
Please let him believe me.
Then he surrendered and she put her arms around his neck. She tiptoed, pressed her cheek to his. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For loving me enough to sacrifice so much.”
He embraced her tightly, his own body trembling now. “CJ, my sweet, sweet CJ.”
She drew back only far enough to meet his eyes. “Let’s have that wine now. We won’t talk of those unpleasant things ever again. The future is all that matters now.”
He smiled, relaxed his hold on her. “I knew Mother was wrong.”
CJ reached for the bottle of wine. “We need the corkscrew and glasses?”
“We do.” He smiled at her once more before reaching toward the drawer next to the wine fridge.
CJ’s fingers tightened on the neck of the bottle. She hesitated a fraction of a second. He’d been her and Shelley’s savior so many times.
Her hero.
More of a father than her biological father had ever dreamed of being.
And then she stopped thinking at all.
She drew back and swung the bottle with all her might. She slammed it into the side of his head.
He staggered back.
The bottle crashed on the marble floor.
And then she ran like hell.
She’d almost made it to the front door when she heard him crying her name.
Hurry!
She fumbled with the locks. Wrenched the door open and burst out onto the porch. She opened her mouth to scream—
Strong arms caught her.
Braddock.
“You okay?”
“Edward!” She turned to see if he was coming. “He killed Shelley! And the others.”
Braddock pulled her to the side of the open door. Cops rushed up the steps, poured through the entry.
She swayed. Braddock steadied her.
How could this be real?
“He can’t hurt you anymore.”
She turned to Braddock. Collapsed in his arms and closed her eyes against the reality.
Was it possible that the nightmare was finally over?