Branded (Strand Brothers Series Book 1) (34 page)

Once I made it back to my hotel, I had another crying spree for Nik, Rachel, and their unborn daughter. Life really was cruel. I couldn’t even fathom how a person lived through such an ordeal. Yet Nik had. Even though he was cold, and could be heartless at times, now, it all made sense. Surely the survival guilt was horrendous, not to mention the damn PTSD that I had witnessed firsthand. I had to wonder if it was the reason he didn’t open up to me, or others. I guess I couldn’t blame him for not getting too close to people. Just meant you weren’t devastated when they left your life—one way or the other.
Hello, you left him, too.
Oh, shut the fuck up!
What a sad way to exist. Let’s face facts; it was an existence, not living. Now, more than ever, I wanted to hold him close, and let him know I was there for him. Always.

*****

For the next few days, I learned the area and found Nik’s old house, plus the high school he and Rachel graduated from. Everything and anything I could find on him, I devoured. I eventually worked up the courage to go to the library and look up old newspaper articles of the accident. Once again brought to tears, especially, when this time, there were photos. Needless to say, those images would forever haunt me. Though in some strange way, I was glad I had them. Somehow it made me feel closer to Nik. Maybe it helped me understand him a little bit better than I had before. What I did know was that I missed him terribly. But I wasn’t sure if I was quite ready to reach out to him, just yet.

As if reading the articles hadn’t been traumatic enough for me, I then decided to go see Rachel—well, her grave at least. I believed, with everything in me, she joyfully walked the streets of heaven with her daughter in her arms, and possibly was having a cup of tea with Nan. The thought brought me a great sense of peace, along with a smile. For that I was beyond grateful, and offered up a silent
thank you
for such a beautiful image.

For some time, I sat in the cemetery deep in thought. A beautiful, pixie-like woman, with flowers in hand, came up to me. “I haven’t seen you here before. Was Rachel a friend of yours?” she inquired.

I met her gaze and confessed, “No, ma’am.”

Taken aback for a moment, she knelt down beside me and continued, “I don’t understand. It’s obvious you’re crying. If you didn’t know her, then…”

I admitted, “I know her husband.”

She gasped, “Oh!” She quickly regained her composure and held out her hand. “I’m Joanna Burns,” she introduced herself, “Rachel’s mother.”

Well, crap. This could be bad. Should I tell her exactly who I am? As I shook her hand, I proceeded, “Aimee Strand.”

Her eyes widened at my last name. “Are you married to one of the Strand boys?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I decided it was poor manners to withhold the information she was seeking, so I conveyed, “I’m Nik’s wife.”

“I see,” Joanna replied. After a pregnant pause, she apprised, “I come out here as often as possible to visit them.” She ran her hand over the tombstone—where Nik’s unborn daughter’s name, Miley Faith Strand, was underneath her mother’s name, date of birth and date of death. Without forethought, I clasped her hand. When her tear filled eyes met mine, she expounded, “You should know, I
don’t
blame him.”

I bit my lip, hard. I had meant to bring her comfort, yet here she was offering it to me. “That means a lot. Thank you.”

She shook her head. “I never did. I liked Nik. It was my husband who couldn’t deal with any of it.”

I queried, “What couldn’t he handle?”

She sighed, “Everything. He hated she had married a boy he didn’t approve of. For a while, he managed to keep me away from her. But what he could never accept was that a mother’s love never goes away—no matter what her child does.” She grabbed a tissue from her purse and offered me one from the small packet as well. Then she went on with her story: “He also sorely underestimated the power of young love. God rest his soul. He just never understood.”

While I tried to grasp the information she’d just revealed, I offered my condolences. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Oh, honey, thank you for that. He’s been gone six years now,” she imparted. I didn’t know what else to say, so I sat there quietly. She continued, “I hope he found peace on the other side.”

I assumed, “So, he never forgave her for marrying Nik.”

She exhaled, “No. Unfortunately, he did not. Which was a darn shame, Nik went through enough.” She held my gaze intently. “It was my husband who used his money to make sure Nik went to jail. As if the poor boy hadn’t suffered sufficiently. Those were very
dark
times.”

I gasped, “But why? I mean, the whole accident was horrible enough as it was.”

“I agree with you wholeheartedly. I think he was hurt and wanted to hold someone accountable.”

I shook my head. “No offense, but that’s awful.”

“None taken, dear.” She patted my knee. “What I never understood, was why Mr. Reynolds felt the need to help pay for the investigation that convicted Nik.”

“Excuse me? Are you saying Caleb used his money and power to punish Nik? How? Why?” I knew I shouldn’t be firing all those questions at her; therefore, I laid my hand over hers and apologized.

She nodded, “Your frustration and confusion is understandable.” She stood up. “How about we have a cup of coffee? We can discuss this further.”

“Yes. That’s probably wise since the snow has begun to fall again.”

“Ah, life in the mountains. I’m used to it, but I doubt you are.”

I bobbed my head and then walked back to the rental car.

*****

We met at a small coffee shop I never would’ve found if she hadn’t led the way. Once inside, she picked up where she had left off: “It wasn’t Caleb that provided the funds. It was his father.”

“Why would Mr. Reynolds care so much?”

“Well, he and my Richard were best friends since college. They had decided long ago that Rachel and Caleb should marry.”

“Omigod, now I get it!” I exclaimed.

“Hm-mm. Really, I don’t know what either man was thinking.” She shrugged. “I mean, Rachel liked Caleb, but not that way.” She sighed, “Unfortunately, Caleb did love her, which caused all kinds of issues.”

My eyes widened as I finally put two and two together. Caleb still loved Rachel to the point of utter obsession. Now his accusations made sense to me. Fact was, I’d seen the photographs of her, and we do look enough alike to have been sisters. Oh, this was bad. Really bad. “He stalked her?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t know about all of that. He was quite upset when she fell in love with Nik.” She rubbed the back of my hand that was resting on the table. “I mean no disrespect towards you.”

I half-smiled. “That was years ago. I accept Nik has a past.”

“Good. I’m glad you didn’t misunderstand me.”

I really didn’t want to get into Nik’s past too much. Fact was, it hurt a little. Even though I knew Rachel was gone. So I said, “Well, I should let you get on with your day.” I hoped she didn’t think I was being rude.

“Yes, I still have some errands to run.” Good, she didn’t think that at all. She grabbed a piece of paper out of her purse and wrote something down. Afterwards, she folded it and handed it to me as she stood. “Let me take care of this.” She had the check in hand before I could stop her.

I stood as well. “Thank you for everything. It was a pleasure to meet you.” I meant what I said, I was glad to have the puzzle in place. And she really was a nice lady.

Joanna surprised me when she hugged me tight and whispered, “Rachel would’ve liked you. You take care of yourself and Niky.”

With that I pulled back, a little shocked to hear my powerhouse husband once went by Niky. Not that I had a problem with the name, it just sounded so young. Then again, I guess when she knew him he was.

“Take care of yourself as well, Joanna.”

*****

Once I left Mrs. Burns, I opened the folded piece of paper in my hand. Her address and phone number were written on it, along with: call me anytime. I smiled as I tucked it inside the front pocket of my jeans. As I pulled away from the restaurant, I decided it was time to visit the spot where it all happened. I followed the directions on my GPS, and easily found where Highway 89 and U.S. 50 split.

Due to the fact I was driving in the opposite direction, I had to turn around where Highway 89 intersected with Highway 88. Then head back the way I had just came from, to really see everything clearly. With the sun starting to set, it made the scene more surreal. Since I planned on stopping, I made sure to take the turn slower than usual. However, I didn’t see the SUV until it was right up on my bumper. There was nowhere to pull over. My intention was to cross over to the other side, but the jerk smacked right into me. I did my best to keep control of my vehicle. But I overcorrected and caused the car to flip. There was a horrible scream—
oh, that’s me
!—and a loud crunching noise as the car careened out of control. And then, there was nothing.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Caleb

The bitch had evaded my hit man. How, I would never know. The imbecile was of no use to me any longer. Viviane had phoned and informed me Joe had terminated him. Good riddance. I knew good and well Joe was not sloppy with disposing bodies; thus, focusing on my task at hand would be much easier. I had neither the patience nor the inclination to deal with inadequacy. Which was why, I had always been able to avoid the long arm of the law. Did that make me arrogant? Hell, yes. Most were beneath me, and I never tolerated stupidity in anyone. Of course, my constituents were a different story. But let’s face it, they needed someone to guide them, show them the error of their ways. They weren’t obtuse, per se, just ignorant. And I was more than willing to educate them. Not that any of them would understand the depths I must go to in order to insure all was well in their world. For example: ridding our streets of prostitution. What the simple-minded could not grasp, there was a place for whores. Granted, it was not the streets, which was why I had devised the task force in the first place. No one wanted to see scantily clad drug addicts, flaunting their assets. Especially when, they strolled through the streets, arm in arm, with their children in tow. Revolting.

Then there were the traitorous, deceitful posers like Aimee Taylor Strand, who made my damn blood boil. She shouldn’t ever be allowed to breathe the same air with the rest of us. I would remedy that, soon enough.

“But Caleb, I don’t think…” Rachel whispered from the corners of my mind.

“Hush now, my lovely. It’s my place to handle such women. Go and rest. I’ll take care of her,” I assured my precious angel.

She really couldn’t handle the punishment that must be dealt to those who tried to impersonate her. Oh, some succeeded longer than others, but, eventually, their lies caught up to them. I would be the first to admit, Aimee fooled me longer than any other, notwithstanding she still revealed her true colors. Now, she would pay.

I was sick and tired from the failure of others; therefore, I decided it was time to take the bull by the horns. Besides, I had an extra special treat for Mrs. Strand. Marissa had some grand ideas on how to inflict the most pain possible before Aimee’s life ended. Not that I didn’t have my own ways of dealing with her. Although I must say, the combination would be positively horrific. I reached down and rubbed my engorged erection those thoughts brought me; yes, soon I would have my revenge on Mrs. Nikko Strand. My only regret being, he would not be here to enjoy the festivities. Pity, that.

Locating Aimee had not been the easiest of chores, yet not insurmountable by any means. She honestly had made it quite simple on how I could get my hands on her. Then, there would be no mercy. My only hope was that the darn wench didn’t die in the crash. Though it couldn’t be helped, I needed her incapacitated. When the opportunity presents itself, one must act quickly.

Her rented Lexus didn’t stand a snowball’s chance—pardon the pun—against my Cadillac SUV. Really, it didn’t take much effort at all to run her off the road. With her unfamiliarity with snow and ice, she had made it easy. Too easy. Dammit! Once her vehicle had come to rest halfway around the huge pine tree, I exited mine. The smell of gasoline was thick. Which made me wonder, how long did I have before she went up in flames? I grinned. How wonderful would it be to see Nik’s face when he received that news?! Yet again, I adjusted my arousal as I realized a quick end to Aimee was not at all what I wanted, or needed. Hence, I made my way down towards the wreckage.

When I reached her, I could see blood dripping from the windows. Shit! Please tell me I hadn’t actually killed her with a little bump from a car. With gloved hands, I immediately attempted to pull open the driver’s door, all to no avail. She was most definitely trapped. I made my way back to the SUV to grab the tools necessary to free her. And that was when I heard another vehicle approach. Not good. I stayed in the shadows of the trees and watched the Hulk like figure approach her. Once I heard him yell her name, I knew who was there. Nik.
Well, isn’t this an interesting twist of fate.
Recognition of where he was must have hit him. Because he suddenly dropped to his knees, in the throes of, what appeared to be, a panic attack. This was the very spot where my beauty, Rachel, had lost her precious life at the hands of the man who was now in a vulnerable position. I clutched the crowbar tightly as I made my way towards him. Yes, tonight he would lose his life, too. Poetic justice—
if you asked me
.

Sirens were incessantly blaring, and I had to cover my ears to help block their harsh sound. At that moment I knew full well, I couldn’t stick around for the three-ring circus. Thus, I went back to the rented Cadillac. “Fuck,” I roared once inside. As I banged the steering wheel with my fists till they ached, I knew a choice had to be made, immediately.
How had this happened?
Either I stayed in town for the aftermath, or I went back to my cabin in Kirkwood and attempted retribution at another time. Decisions, decisions. Which was in my best interest? On cue, my cell phone vibrated.