Scorched (8 page)

But there was one person who was always nice to her even though he was shy and hardly vocal about it. That person was Doug. So she waited for Doug that day and sweet-talked him into giving her the tape. She remembered that Doug was rather flushed and had said they would make a great team–he with his engineering skill and she with her angelic vocals. She might have said a few things to butter him up so he’d do her bidding, but she didn’t know Doug was delusional.

How long had he been repressing his feelings for her?

Now that she thought about it, Doug had always followed her with his silent eyes. He’d never tried to engage her in conversation, other than work related things. He was always polite and reserved. He was a cool person. Aloof.

David had always been a jealous person. After they got together, it irked him when some guy tried to be friendly with her.

Why are the guys who like me always on the crazy side?
Molly lamented.

She gathered her wits. Maybe there was a way she could salvage this situation. “Doug, it’s not too late. We still could be friends if you just—”

“Liar!” he screamed from the top of his lungs. “It’s too late for that! You and I will go to my car where I’ve got you the most magnificent present ever. Then, we will go together into the next life. We didn’t belong in this time.” He nodded vigorously. “But we will be happy together after I’ve shown you your present.”

She guessed she shouldn’t be surprised by what he had in mind. “No, what you need right now is a big dose of Haldol and a reality check.”

Doug slapped her with his free hand.

She staggered as pain exploded in her cheek. Her ear rang.

“Why do you talk back like this? You were a good girl. You were always good!” Doug paced around, waving his gun frantically. “You were always a sweet, sweet girl. That’s why everyone always loved you. David loved you like he wasn’t himself, and I knew him for a long time.” He then crouched and rocked his body for a while, quietly singing what sounded like lullaby, before he sprang on his feet, acting agitated again.

Her heart sank into her gut. Doug had gone off the deep end this time. This was the first time she’d witnessed someone having a psychotic breakdown.

She threaded carefully. “Doug, you need help. It’s obvious you’re unwell. I can help you—”

“Don’t talk to me like you know me!” he snarled. “You know nothing!” He beat his chest with his gun. “But I know what’s best for you, Margaret. For us.” He then gave her a big, shit-eating grin. “You and I, Margaret, we’re good for each other. We’ll be happy.”

“No, listen to me Doug—”

“No, you listen to me! We’ve wasted enough time already. We have to go down. You have to see your present.”

Molly stood her ground. “No. I’ve had enough of being bossed around. No more from you or anyone else. I’m not going with you, Doug!”

He punched her midsection.

She doubled over, and the pain made her want to hurl. That crazy son of a bitch! She struggled to breathe. God, it hurt so much.

“Get up,” Doug ordered her. “Get moving!”

“No.” Her voice came out as a wheeze. She didn’t care anymore. He was going to kill her anyway, then he’d commit suicide. She wasn’t going to play his game.

He yanked a handful hair of her hair, forcing her to stand up. She yelled, clawing at his face. The gun went off and seared her shoulder. She screamed as red-hot pain singed her flesh. She flailed and tumbled over on the ground.

She then heard the bushes rustling and the sound of barking and growling. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw three big wolves surge towards Doug and knock him to the ground. One ripped the gun out of Doug’s hand and threw it away. The other two clamped their jaws on his shoulder and arm, shaking him violently. Doug was too stunned to fight back. He shouted in desperation, trying to untangle himself from the wolves.

Something bounded toward Doug like lightning and the stalker’s body was yanked off the ground. Molly couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Tristan. New hope surged into her heart. Tristan was alive.
Oh God
,

She felt relief wash over her.

However, Tristan wasn’t himself; he was in mid-shift. His entire body was covered with spikes and scales, piercing his clothes and boots. His eyes didn’t look human, and both eyes sockets were filled with fire—literally.

“Molly!” he called without turning his head in her direction. His voice didn’t contain an ounce of humanity. “Are you hurt?”

Molly swallowed hard. “N-no. I’m fine.”

Doug looked stricken. At this point, he was no longer resisting. His body hung limp in surrender.

“Esposito,” Tristan croaked, “take Molly to safety. I’m afraid I can’t hold it much longer.”

The biggest gray wolf gave a loud bark and snatched the back of her collar, dragging her away from the scene. The other two did the same thing. One grabbed the cuff of her pants and the other her shirt. Molly protested, but it was futile. It happened so fast she didn’t have the time to register what was happening. Grass, rock and thorny underbrush ravaged her back and her ass. The wolves kept pulling her away. Pain filled her senses.

There was a brilliant light from afar, and a ball of fire engulfed the place where Tristan and Doug were. Red, yellow and blue flames burst out and consumed everything in their path.

“Tristan!” Molly screamed, but no voice came out of her throat.

Her back felt raw and wet with her blood. Pain exploded from every nerve in her body, and she felt lightheaded. She grew weaker and weaker.

Finally she passed out.

Chapter Nine

One day later…

At that moment, her hospital bed was the most comfortable place in the world, and Molly wouldn’t trade it for anything. Especially with the morphine drip at the touch of a button, she was on cloud nine. All her problems were far away, unimportant. Forgotten. Fuck yeah! She liked this fugue state. She’d always been a happy drunk.

After the fiery blast in the mountain, she’d been evacuated to the hospital, where she’d undergone hour-long surgery.

As soon as her condition was downgraded to stable, she was moved from ICU into a private hospital room. Tristan had been there for her. Remarkably, he looked okay, not a scratch on him. How the hell did he survived? Molly wondered. Seconds later, she corrected herself as she remembered that Tristan wasn’t human.
Silly me!

Tristan wasn’t the only one who visited her in the hospital. His partner Raffe Esposito had been there. Sarah Dawn, her old bestie from high school. Tristan’s boss. And a few people she didn’t recognize. A bouquet of flowers and get-well gifts occupied the whole surface of the table beside her bed.

She’d been drifting in and out of pleasant dreams since the surgery, and when Tristan returned to her room, looking fresh and squared, she knew she had to wake up. There was so much she wanted to ask him.

She shook herself out of the euphoric embrace of the morphine and opened her eyes wide. “Tristan.” Her voice was hoarse, so he helped her take a sip of water.

“How do you feel?” Tristan asked.

“I’m fine. How about you?”

“I’m fine too. As you can see.”

“I thought you were dead.” Molly briefly closed her eyes. The memory of her finding he’d been shot was one of the scariest moments of her life.

Tristan only gave her a wan smile. “He can’t kill me that easily.”

“I was worried.”

“I’m more worried about you.”

“But I’m fine.”

“Yeah, says you.”

“Are you picking a fight this early?”

“Sorry.” Tristan held her hand gently, carefully avoiding the IV line. The nurse couldn’t find a good vein in her arm, so she’d had to stick the needle into the back of her hand.

“I have something I’d like to ask you,” she said. “What happened to Doug?”

Tristan didn’t answer her immediately. “He’s dead. I burned him.”

That should have been obvious, but she just needed to hear it from his own mouth.

“I misunderstood him. I didn’t think he was the one who terrorized me and half the town. He was harmless, I swear.”

“We did some investigations into him. Doug Higginbottom had severe mental illness. He was institutionalized in a psych ward during his early teens. The record was sealed originally, but we were able to unseal it thanks to an understanding judge.”

“He was a mental patient? What did he do?”

Tristan seemed uncomfortable. “He was abused by his mother when he was little, and one day, he just snapped. He killed his mother and lived with the corpse for three weeks. His neighbor discovered it because of the smell.”

“Oh, God! How did he get out of the facility?”

“I guess he slipped through the cracks. You know how these systems are. His psychiatrist released him because he showed progress and rehabilitation.”

“He didn’t look like he was capable of doing horrendous stuff. He looked so normal.”

Tristan snorted. “Yeah, Jeffrey Dahmer looked normal too, but he liked to stuff the bodies of his victims in barrels in his apartment.” He paused for a moment. “There’s one more thing Doug did that surprised us.”

“Oh?” She frowned. “What’s that?”

“Doug killed David Castle and decapitated him. He left the body in the trunk of his car in L.A. and carried the head across state lines. We found David’s head in a suitcase in Doug’s rental car. It was odd. The head was placed on a silver plate with an apple shoved into his mouth; the whole thing was wrapped in cellophane plastic and decorated with a bow, like a gift or something.”

Oh God!
Molly’s stomach churned. Now she knew what Doug meant by
“...showing her something extraordinary.”
She told Tristan what happened while Doug was herding her down from the mountain.

Tristan’s expression hardened. “That’s one more mystery resolved. My captain is having a bad time answering questions from people in L.A. David was a high-profile person. They wanted to see Doug’s body and his accomplices.”

“Doug had accomplices?”

Tristan nodded. “His step-brother and a cousin. The Higginbottoms dabble in the pyrotechnic industry. His cousin James is an explosives specialist. Used to work in a mining company detonating quarries and such. Hence the bombs they used for the bombing spree. And his step-brother Leroy is involved in a white supremacist gang. Leroy is a member of an anti-government militia in Utah. The Feds have monitored his activity for a while for trafficking illegal weapons. Doug paid them a pretty penny to help him carry out his plans.”

Molly quieted for a moment, reflecting on what Tristan had just said. “That whole family is just nuts. What happened to Leroy and James? They didn’t kill them, right?” By “them” she meant everyone who’d participated in the Big Hunt. Since the hunt was a real one this time, whoever got the prize could do anything they wished to them. Leroy and James were fair game.

Tristan furrowed his brows. “Well, they decided not to since this is such a high-profile case, although the wolves were eager to tear their throats out. Right now Oak Hollow is under media scrutiny.”

“Were you in trouble because of what you did to Doug?”

He let out a harsh laugh. “Like I care? I did what I had to do. No one hurts my woman and gets away with it.” He sighed. “But no. My captain understands. You know our rule: we eldritch protect each other in Oak Hollow. Bloods come first. Mundanes second.”

Immense relief washed over her. She was worried that Tristan would get fired from his job. Since she’d come back home, all she’d done was give Tristan problems.

“Anyway, I want to discuss something important with you,” said Tristan.

“Hmmh? What’s that?”

A little smile curved at the corners of his lips, and his eyes brightened. “About you becoming my mate. Once this shitstorm has blown over, I want us to go to the Elders and ask for a Blessing ritual.”

Mate.
Somehow she’d forgotten that Tristan had asked her to be his mate. Not just wife, but mate. For a mutt like her, being asked by a full-blood to be their mate was an honor of the highest order. A lover could be replaced. A wife could be divorced. But a mate was forever.

When a dragon took a mate, they’d make a request to the Elders for an ancient ritual that would bind them so not even death could separate them. They’d be stuck together until the end of time.

She touched Tristan’s hand. “Are you sure about this?”

“I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t sure.” Tristan stroked her hair lovingly. “Ten years haven’t changed my feelings for you, Molly. You’re the one I’ve always wanted, and you always will be. I promise you that I’ll protect you and love you forever and ever and ever. Does that sound corny to you?”

“I never pegged you for the sappy type.”

Tristan laughed.

Molly laughed with him. “Yes,” she whispered. “A thousand times yes.”

The End.

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