Chapter Twenty-Five
Rage tore through Rags like a tornado as the car disappeared into the storm. The bastard had been right there. Ten more seconds and Rags would’ve dragged his cowardly ass out of the car and broken his neck.
“Fuck!”
Blowing snow erased the tire tracks in seconds, leaving nothing but darkness and the wind screaming through the trees.
Rags stood there for a long moment, fists clenched, his pulse still hammering from the chase.
The piece of shit thought he’d outsmarted him, but he hadn’t.
Rags recognized the bastard’s car—a Ford Focus—and even though the license plate was half buried under ice and slush, one letter stood out through the blowing snow.
“P,” he muttered. “Hawk’ll find him, then the bastard’s a dead man.” He turned away from the empty street and hurried back to Casey’s townhome.
When Casey opened the door, Rags stepped inside, his eyes sweeping the living room, the hallway, then the kitchen behind her.
“Rags? What happened? I heard you pull up, but when I looked out the window all I saw was the snow plow. I was scared to death something happened to you!”
“I’m good,” he said, moving past her and checking the back door and window locks.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Just making sure your place is secure.” Rags crossed the room to the window. “Is this where you first saw the sonofabitch?” He raised the blinds and stared at the swaying tree branches across the road.
“Do you see someone?”
“Not now. But I did.” He lowered the blinds.
The color drained from Casey’s cheeks. “Who?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.” Anger sizzled inside him. “I almost had the bastard, but he got away.”
“You chased him?”
Rags ran a hand through his wet hair and nodded. “That fucker was watching you.”
“You don’t know that,” she muttered.
He held her gaze. “Yeah. I do.” He saw the fear in her eyes, the way her sweet lips lost their color. He stepped toward her and pulled her into him, his arms locking around her as he held her tight.
She shivered against him. “It’s okay, Case. I’m here. I’ve got your back,” he murmured.
For the space of a long breath, they held each other, the only sound the wind rattling the windows.
“You scared the hell out of me tonight,” he said against her hair.
“I’m okay now that you’re here.”
“Yeah, but you almost weren’t,” he said, his voice low.
“It was probably someone from the neighborhood acting stupid,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.
“On a night like this? I don’t think so.”
Casey leaned back and looked up at him, their eyes locking. “Who then?”
“Someone dangerous.”
“Now you’re scaring the hell out of me.” A nervous laugh slipped from her lips.
“I’m serious. Tonight wasn’t a coincidence.” He brushed his lips across hers. “Have you noticed anything strange or off lately?”
Casey pulled away and chewed the side of her lower lip. “Maybe…”
Rags frowned. “What does that mean?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure exactly, but now that I think about it, a few strange things have happened. Not all the time, just little things that make me feel uneasy.”
“Okay. Tell me.”
“A couple of months ago I felt like someone was watching me. It was the night the play opened. I was walking to the parking lot, and I just knew someone was there, you know? I tried to talk myself out of it, but the feeling was so strong. When I drove away and turned onto Maple Street, I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a figure standing there. It was like he stepped out from behind that huge oak tree across from the theatre parking lot. It unnerved me.”
“Fuck, woman.” Rags’s jaw tightened. “Have you felt someone watching you since that night?”
“No. Not until tonight.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “What do you know about the string of young women murdered in this town in 1903?”
Rags shrugged. “Nothing. What’s that got to do with what we’re talking about?”
“You never heard about the unsolved murders?”
“No. I wasn’t around back then.” A grin tugged at his lips.
She ran her fingers along his cheek. “You’re too cute sometimes.”
He loved the way her eyes sparkled, pushing back the fear.
“But, hear me out. In 1903 a string of young women with dark hair were strangled in Pinewood Springs. The murderer was never caught. The eerie thing is the way he killed them, then posed them with their hair spread around them with flowers in their hair like a crown or something. It’s similar to what’s happening now. ”
“Okay.”
She shook her head. “That’s too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”
“Maybe. Could be whoever’s doin’ the killing now knows about those murders.”
“Exactly. That’s what I think. But what makes this really strange, scary as hell even, is that a book about those murders showed up on my desk one day. Someone put it there.”
A prickle of unease ran through Rags. “Whaddaya mean?”
“It was just there. I asked everyone if they’d left it, but they all said no. It gave me the chills. It still does whenever I think about it.”
“Do you still have the book?”
She crossed to the desk tucked into the corner of the room and opened a drawer. “Here it is.”
Rags took the book and flipped through the pages. “It had to be someone you know.”
“I agree. But who?”
“Who has access to your office?”
“Everyone. There’s always something going on at the theatre besides productions. We have workshops, student internships from the community college, conferences, seminars… honestly, almost anyone could’ve left it.”
“But not everyone knows you’re a history junkie.”
“Most everyone at the theatre does,” she said with a small shrug.
“But maybe that’s not the connection. Maybe the person killing these women now took inspiration from the 1903 murders.
I wonder if the homicide investigators found anything in the victims’ homes like books, articles, or something tied to those old killings. ”
Rags snapped the book shut and set it on the table. Then he pulled Casey into him and kissed her hard before holding her tight against his chest. “You’ve been targeted,” he said.
“I don’t think so. It’s probably just some joke someone’s playing on me. I mean the book, not what happened tonight.”
“I don’t agree. The book is significant. I wish you’d told me about it.”
“I didn’t think about it after we started seeing each other. It happened when we were on shaky ground, remember?”
Rags ignored the question, not wanting the conversation to drift. “I’m gonna get Hawk’s security guy out here to install an alarm system on the doors and the windows.”
“I’m renting. I’d have to ask the landlord.”
“Fuck that. If the landlord gives you trouble, you let me know.”
“Okay.” She tilted her head back and met his eyes. “Rags, I’m freaking out right now.”
“I know, baby. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. I’m not letting anyone hurt you. It’ll be okay.” He ran his hands up and down her back, feeling the tight muscles slowly loosen beneath his fingertips.
“I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here.” She looped her arms around his neck.
“I am here and I’m not goin’ anywhere, Case.” Seeing fear in her eyes had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. He needed to wrap her in his arms, feel her heart beating against his, and know she was safe.
Rags cupped the back of Casey’s head and pulled her close, holding her for a long moment before his mouth found hers in a hard, demanding kiss.
The familiar scent of vanilla and caramel filled his lungs as her fingers tangled in his hair.
He pulled her tight against him, never wanting to let her go.
Somewhere along the way, Casey had begun to matter more than he’d planned. She was his now.
“Case,” he murmured as his lips traced her jaw and moved to the hollow between her neck and shoulder.
“Rags,” she sighed. “I want you. I need you more than you know.”
“I know, darlin’,” he said softly. “Because I want and need you, too.”
“I’m so crazy about you,” she said, wriggling against him, her hand rubbing over his throbbing dick.
“I’ve got a real burn for you, woman,” he whispered in her ear.
A hard gust rolled over the house, the eaves groaning under the strain.
Casey pulled away, grasped his hand, and led him upstairs.
When they entered her bedroom, Rags scooped her up and carried her toward the bed, sprinkling kisses across her neck and the soft curve of her breasts.
“Rags,” she moaned.
He set her on the mattress and stepped back, taking her in.
Smiling, she held his gaze while she tugged her top over her head. The lacy lavender bra hit him in the groin. His tongue swept across his bottom lip as she rose and slowly unzipped her black jeans, shimmying out of them without breaking eye contact.
“Damn, woman,” he muttered, taking in the thin lavender scrap of lavender fabric barely covering her luscious pussy.
“You like it?” she asked, running the tip of her tongue slowly over her upper lip.
“Fuck, yeah, baby.”
“What about this?” she teased, turning around and glancing over her shoulder with a wink.
Rags sucked in a breath, his gaze fixed on the thin string resting between the tempting cheeks of her bare ass. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he rasped. He wanted to squeeze those sweet cheeks and spank them hard enough to leave his mark.
But tonight wasn’t about claiming her like that. Tonight was about holding her, making her forget the fear the bastard had tried to put in her heart.
“I can’t wait to unwrap you,” he said, walking toward her.
He snagged an arm around her waist and drew her close. “You’re always in my mind, Case.”
“You’re in mine, too,” she whispered, turning in his arms.
Groaning, his fingers dug into her soft buttocks as his mouth captured hers again, hungry and deep.
He guided her onto the mattress before stepping back long enough to kick off his boots and unbuckle his belt.
His gaze swept over her body from her tits to her pink pussy peeking out at him.
His eyes trailed back up and locked with her heat-filled ones as she watched him undress.