Chapter Twenty-Eight
He told her not to worry.
But in between pacing around her room and packing up her things, she did.
“What did Derek say?” she’d asked as he led her up the stairs. “How do you know he knows?”
Pausing at her door, Sinjin huffed out a breath. “He said I’m dead to him.”
“That doesn’t mean…”
“That’s exactly what it means.” He nodded, tucking Breanna’s hair behind her ear. “It’s okay, baby. I planned on telling him once you left for your mom’s, anyway.”
“What do you think he’s going to do?”
“Nothing he can do, baby. So don’t worry.”
Her packing skills weren’t even close to being on the same level as Kayleigh’s. Fuck it. She’d take only the clothes she couldn’t do without and leave the rest of them here. The plan was to come back in a few weeks anyway, right?
Right.
And tonight was her last night with Sinjin until then.
She wasn’t about to ruin the hours they had left together all worked up over Derek St. John. “He can go straight to hell.”
Breanna zipped up her duffel bag, and tossing it onto a chair, went into the ensuite. A long, hot shower would make her feel better and clear her head. She stripped out of her clothes, admiring the marks Sinjin left on her body as she gazed at her reflection. Addicted to him now as she was, being apart was going to be torture.
Steam rose from the shower, hot water raining down on her skin. Heavy-handed with the soap, Breanna lathered herself. She always felt dirty when she had her period, no matter how much she scrubbed. Maybe that was silly. Aunt Flo sure didn’t put Sinjin off, after all.
She giggled to herself, making a mental note to keep some towels handy so she wouldn’t ruin another set of sheets.
After showering, fluffing, and buffing, Breanna sat cross-legged at the vanity, wearing the teal bra that made her breasts look bigger, applying her makeup. A smoky eye and subtle lip were just the look for tonight.
“There.” Pleased with herself, she spritzed her face with setting spray. “That’s perfect.”
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Miss Dalton.”
His face half hidden in shadow, Derek emerged from the hall. Still in his ‘uniform,’ as Sinjin would say—tailored suit, crisp white dress shirt, and tie—he must’ve rushed over here straight from the office.
“But I think you’re well aware of that.”
“Sinjin reset the key code. How’d you get in here?” She eyed his reflection in the mirror.
“It’s Sinjin now, is it?” Derek made the name sound like a curse word, and coming closer, he smirked. “You left the door to the deck unlocked.”
Again? Fuck.
“I’m not dressed, so I’m going to need you to leave.”
“I think not.” Cool hands clamped down on her shoulders. “Put on a pretty dress. I’ll wait.”
“Derek, please, just go.”
“My own blood fucked me over…” His fingers painfully curled into her skin. “…for you.”
“That’s not true.” Her chest heaving with every breath, Derek lowered his hands to fondle her uplifted breasts. Swatting at him, Breanna shouted, “Don’t touch me…Sinjin!”
“Ian’s not coming. He already got what he wanted from you. I warned you about him, didn’t I?” He snickered. “My turn.”
Derek ripped the teal satin. He molded her flesh like modeling clay, squeezing and pinching the already tender tissue.
She smacked his hands. “Stop it.”
He stopped, but in a swift move that surprised her, Derek yanked her out of the chair, his open palm slapping her face.
“You’re going to be a good little girl and do whatever I tell you to do.” Taking her by the throat, Derek pushed her toward the closet. “See, you’ve left me no other choice. You and I are going to take a little ride.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“No?” Maniacal brown eyes leering at her, he tipped his head to the side and smirked. Something hard, hidden in his jacket pocket, pressed into her side. He didn’t have to tell her what it was. “Bet I can change your mind. Now, get moving. The Marriage Bureau in Reno closes at eight.”
“What?”
A creepy grin appeared on his face. “Happy wedding day, Mrs. St. John.”
Oh. Hell. No.
“You’re fucking nuts if you think I’m marrying you.”
“Breanna?”
He’s here. Fuck you, asshole.
“Sin—”
His hand covering her mouth, the crazed fucker slammed her against the wall. Pure hatred. It was there in his eyes.
Her gaze darted to Sinjin, who cautiously approached. “Let her go, Derek.”
A husky laugh tumbled from his throat. “Fuck off, Ian.”
“Come on, man. You were never going to get away with it. I saved your ass.” For a brief moment, Sinjin locked eyes with her. It seemed as if they were trying to tell her something, but she didn’t know what. “You’re just making this worse for yourself.”
Derek lowered the hand in his pocket and turned around. “I told you, you’re dead to me.”
“Get dressed, baby,” Sinjin prompted her with a tip of his chin.
“Yes, and hurry it up, Miss Dalton.” Derek snickered. Breanna could hear the menacing smirk in his voice. “Tick tock, tick tock.”
“Gun,” she mouthed to Sinjin, patting her side.
Fingers trembling, Breanna pulled her leggings on and grabbed a tank top and hoodie while she looked for a pair of boots. Her knit ankle booties would have to do. They were house slippers, but whatever.
“You are going to take that mangy mutt of yours and go back to your party house in Sacramento. Your services are no longer required here or at the firm, either.”
Gun, gun, gun!
Frantically, Breanna waved her arms in the air and scrambled to put the booties on her feet.
“I expect you to be gone before Miss Dalton and I return.”
She could hear voices coming down the hall. “I’m telling you, I haven’t seen him, Miranda.”
Francie. Thank fuck.
“His car’s in the driveway. Where’s Ian?”
Derek moved toward the door.
Sinjin’s eyes pleading with hers, he whispered, “Run.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why didn’t I take my keys?
Panting. Cold. Out of breath. Breanna raced along the deck to the stairs, holding onto her phone. At least she’d had the sense to grab that. But then it was sitting right there on the bed. The keys to her car were in her purse.
On the ground level, once Breanna was certain no one was following her, she hid behind a tree and took out her phone. Her voice quivering, she choked on the words. “Jordy, it’s Breanna. You’ve got to come quick.”
“Calm down, sweetie. What’s going on?”
“Derek’s here and he’s got a gun.” Crying, she wiped the snot from her nose.
“Where’s Ian?”
“In the house with Derek. He told me to run. Please, hurry.” Afraid the tree couldn’t hide her for long, Breanna hung up the phone.
And she ran.
Thankful the moon was hidden behind a thick veil of clouds, she scurried through the snow to the caretaker’s cottage and pounded on the door. But Ted wasn’t there. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot came from the house. Sinking to her knees, Breanna glanced up at her bedroom window and covered her mouth to stifle her scream.
Please be okay, baby. Please be okay. Please, please, please.
She couldn’t stay here.
Ted had to be in the garage. She ran toward it.
Under the porte-cochère, the fucker’s Jag blocked her car in. Breanna couldn’t have gotten away even if she had brought her keys.
Locked tight, the garage door wouldn’t budge. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the numbers Sinjin punched into the keypad the day he showed her the mountain, but she couldn’t. Banging on the door could be a risk. Someone might hear it, but desperately, Breanna banged, anyway. It was a wasted attempt. No one answered. Wearing only a hoodie, her knit booties sopping, she sagged against the door, unsure of what to do or where to go.
Frozen to the bone, uncontrollably shaking, Breanna tried to think. The cabin was too far, not that she’d find it in the dark with only the sobbing gurgle of the mountain stream to guide her. Should she sneak back inside the house? Surely, she could find a place to hide until Jordy got there. Because she certainly would not make it out here.
As Breanna doubled back the way she came, footsteps crunched on the icy walk.
Shit!
Ducking behind her car, she prayed it wasn’t locked.
“I know you’re out here, Breanna.” Derek laughed, and it was eerie. “I’m going to find you, sweetheart. You left me your footprints in the snow.”
She watched him walk toward the garage and slowly reached for the door handle. As soon as he was far enough past her, she tried opening it. Thank you, God. Sinjin hadn’t locked it. She slipped inside, then quickly and quietly closed the door.
Now what? Her car wasn’t the safest place to hide. He’d only follow the footprints she hadn’t thought to hide—not that she could have, anyway—and find her here.
Makes an excellent weapon should you need one.
“The flashlight.” What did she do with it after Sinjin rescued her? “Please be here.”
She reached inside the glove compartment and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Then, armed with the flashlight ready in her hands, she waited.
A deep breath in.
A slow exhale.
Her gaze darted left and right, then left again, the sound of that gunshot echoing in her head.
Sinjin’s okay.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Where is he then?
Inhale.
Exhale.
Please be okay.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Hurry, Jordy. Please.
Inhale.
Exhale.
And the door wrenched open. “Gotcha.”
She didn’t even look when she swung.
Whack.
Breanna climbed over the console, bolted out the passenger side door, and didn’t look back. Then, running down the driveway, she collapsed with relief at the first sight of blue flashing lights.
An engine revved.
Jordy sped by, her gaze following the truck.
Another gunshot exploded, reverberating off the trees.
But this time, squeezing her eyes shut, Breanna screamed.
So. Fucking. Loud.
With the acrid scent of spent gunpowder tainting the crisp winter air, she opened her eyes. Headlights were coming toward her. Francie stood on the walkway, a rifle at her side. Too exhausted to get up, she sat in the snow, watching Derek’s Jag fly past her.
Jordy scooped her up and half-carried, half-dragged her over to Francie.
“Sinjin?”
But Francie didn’t answer, shouting instead, “Get her a blanket.”
“Hey, Randall. We’re gonna need another unit up here.” The static of a two-way radio. “For Breanna. No, she’s not shot.”
She didn’t see it, but she heard it.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Crash.
BOOM.
“What was that?” She heard someone say.
“Not sure, honey. Can’t worry about that now.”
“Where’s Sinjin?” Why wouldn’t anyone answer her, goddammit?
Sirens blaring, flashing red lights raced up the driveway. Medics jumped out, sprinting with a stretcher toward the door. “Up the stairs and to the right, Randall. Ted’s with him.”
“Sinjin?” Her tears falling, Breanna gazed up at Francie.
“Shh. Everything’s going to be all right.”
Nooo.
He looked so pale. Ted walked beside the gurney, his shirt and hands dyed red.
Blood.
“Sinjin.” But her voice came out barely a whisper.
“We heard what sounded like an explosion.”
“Yeah, we saw it.” She thought maybe it was Randall talking, but she couldn’t be sure. “A vehicle skidded off the pass.”
The shrill scream of a woman pierced through the air. Breanna didn’t know who it was. But then maybe it was the ambulance driving away with the only man she would ever love that she heard.
Sinjin.
Francie held her.
Tears froze on her face.
And the world went dark.