Authors: Ingrid Weaver
Tags: #mobi, #Romantic Suspense, #Paranormal Romance, #Fiction, #Shadow, #epub
Delaney's Shadow (48 page)
But he’d already known. Virgil’s face had flashed across his mind at the same moment it had seared across Delaney’s. It was why he’d driven back from the gallery when he’d lost contact with her. It was why he’d felt as if his heart had stopped beating until he’d found her presence once more. She knew all this instantaneously as his thoughts wove into hers. The connection between them was wide-open.
More rage spilled from Max’s mind, along with waves of fear that were both remembered and happening now. She clung to him as she saw the path through the woods unwind in front of him. She felt branches slap against his shins and brush his face as he ran. She’d traveled this path countless times in her nightmare. Now he was living it. He pushed his body for more speed, and her lungs ached with the effort.
Max broke free of the woods and sprinted across the embankment. Even from there he could see that the back door of his house gaped open. It hung crookedly from the splintered doorframe by one hinge. The garden shovel Virgil had used as a weapon lay on the deck with its handle snapped in two.
The splash of liquid brought Delaney back into her surroundings. She twisted her neck to look behind her.
Virgil stood near one of the shelves that held Max’s painting supplies. He was pouring a can of turpentine on a roll of blank canvas. Another open can lay on the floor in a gleaming pool of liquid.
Max, he’s here!
She pulled her legs to her chest, shifting her weight to one side in an attempt to sit up.
She pulled her legs to her chest, shifting her weight to one side in an attempt to sit up.
Virgil looked at her.
The impact of his gaze made her gag. She’d been wrong; it wasn’t like Stanford’s. This man’s gaze was pure evil.
He set the can on Max’s worktable, crossed the floor, and grabbed her by the back of her blouse.
Fresh pain knotted her shoulders. Max’s rage drowned it out. She threw herself to the side.
Virgil twisted the fabric in his fist and yanked her backward. “You’re not going anywhere, whore. Not after the trouble I went to, to get you.”
“Why?” She coughed. Her throat was clogged. “Why are you doing this?”
“ ‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.’ ”
“You’re insane.” It wasn’t merely an insult. Attacking four people in broad daylight wasn’t the act of a rational man. He had to realize he wouldn’t be able to fade back into wherever he’d been hiding now. “You know you can’t get away with this.”
He laughed. “I don’t have to. I’ll be dead before I get to trial.”
She strained against his grasp but couldn’t break it. He had the appearance of a sick man, yet he had the strength of a madman. It couldn’t last for long. Or so she prayed.
“Now scream.” He dragged her on her rear along the floor through the puddle of turpentine. “I like it when they scream.”
She clenched her jaw.
He cuffed her across the shoulders.
The cry she heard wasn’t hers; it was Max’s. It was deep, rough, and primal, ripping through her head and her ears just as his footsteps pounded up the stairs.
Virgil jerked her toward the windows and pulled a lighter from the pocket of his pants.
Her scars stung. Her heart froze. Not again. Oh, God, she couldn’t go through this a second time, or she would surely lose her sanity.
Max took in the scene in an instant. She saw it through his eyes: the fluid soaking into her skirt, the lighter, Virgil’s sneer as he held her helpless. The panic that seized her was nothing compared to the terror that coursed through him. He held up his palms and stepped forward. “Let her go, Virgil.”
“Stop!” He flicked the lighter. Flame sparked to life. He waved it over Delaney once in warning, then took his thumb from the flint wheel and let it subside. “Don’t come any closer.”
Max halted. “It’s me you want to hurt, not her. She’s done nothing.”
“She’s yours, isn’t she? I’ve got the right one this time. I’ve been watching you, boy.”
“What did you do? Break out of the pen just to spy on me?”
“Didn’t have to break out. I’m dying. They opened the door and let me go.”
“You should have kept going. You don’t belong here.”
“This used to be my home, you little prick. Look what you did to it.”
“Yeah. It took years to get rid of your stench. Why’d you come back?”
“I’m on the Lord’s business. I’m here to make sure you pay for your sins.”
“Which ones? I’ve lost count.”
“You turned my woman against me. It’s your fault she died. It’s your fault I’m sick. My insides never healed right after what you did to me.”
“My mother’s dead because you murdered her. You got liver cancer because you’re a drunk. If I’d killed you when I’d had the chance, those things wouldn’t have happened, so it’s true it’s my fault. Your problem’s with me. Let her go.”
“Sure. First, you pick that up.” He nodded to the can he’d left on the table. “There’s still plenty in the bottom.”
Delaney kept her gaze on Max so that she couldn’t see the lighter, but she began to tremble anyway. She knew how fast skin and hair ignited. Her throat was swelling from the solvent fumes. It was hard to draw breath.
Max skimmed his thoughts over her midriff and the tightness in her lungs eased.
Hang on, Deedee. The cops are on their way. I won’t let him hurt you. I promise
.
Hang on, Deedee. The cops are on their way. I won’t let him hurt you. I promise
.
“Go on, you chickenshit,” Virgil said. “Do what I say, or I’ll light her now.”
Max snatched the can off the table. “Fire’s not your style, Virgil. I didn’t think a shovel was, either. Why don’t you use your belt?”
“This is better. You deserve to burn in hell. Was damned handy you had all this turpentine.”
“What’s better than the feel of that belt? You like to beat defenseless women and children. That’s easier than taking on a man.”
“Quit stalling. Pour the rest of that stuff on your clothes.”
“Remember how good it was? All that power in your hand?”
“I’ve got power now.” He waved the lighter back and forth in front of Delaney’s face. His thumb was poised on the wheel. “Go on.”
Max tipped the can toward his chest. Turpentine flowed down his shirt. “That belt whistled before it hit. That’s how I knew when it would happen. It made a noise like a snap when it hit the middle of my back and a crack when it hit my shoulder.”
“More,” Virgil ordered. “Douse yourself like your girlfriend.”
“The noise was duller when you drew blood.” Max upended the can over his shoulder. The liquid spread down his arm and dripped from his fingers to his pants. “Was that why you didn’t do it every time? It wasn’t loud enough?”
“You had it coming, just like your mother.”
“You squealed like a pig when I did the same to you. Do you remember that, Virgil?”
Delaney heard the scuff of a footstep on the stairs. She coughed again, hoping to mask it. Virgil didn’t react. He didn’t seem to notice that Max was moving closer, either.
Max shook out the last drops from the can and flung it aside. “I do remember. That’s why I don’t own a belt. I liked it too much.”
“You caught me when my back was turned. I could’ve taken you.”
“A fair fight’s not your style either, Virgil. Where’d you steal the car you used at the park?”
Virgil laughed. “I didn’t need to steal it. I borrowed it from the preacher who got me out of the pen. He knows I’m doing God’s work.”
“You still can’t drive worth shit.”
“You got lucky.” He tightened his grip on Delaney’s blouse. “It was because of
her
.”
her
.”
She tensed, gathering her feet beneath her, expecting the flames to start clawing her at any second.
Max squeezed her fingers. She felt it even though her hands were numb.
Almost there.
Almost there.
“This is better than running you down,” Virgil said. “I get to see your face when you lose it all. An eye for an eye.”
Uniformed figures rushed from the staircase. “Police! Freeze!”
Virgil jerked. He flicked the lighter. Sparks danced off the flint.
Before they could ignite, Max launched himself at his stepfather. With a cry that sliced through her mind even before she heard it, he snatched the lighter from Virgil’s hand and drove his fist into his stomach.
The force of the blow lifted Virgil from his feet and propelled him toward the open window. The backs of his legs struck the sill. He flailed to regain his balance, but his momentum carried him through the screen. There was a cry, followed by a thud.
Max didn’t even glance outside. He was already on the floor beside Delaney. His mind was still open. Emotions too huge to name tumbled into hers.
Are you all right?
Are you all right?
Feel for yourself.
He tossed the lighter to one of the policemen and untied the rag that bound her wrists so he could check her skin for damage. The grafts were still whole. He followed her thoughts to probe gently through her body, found the aches he’d missed earlier, and drew them into himself.
He was after me, not you. I should have guessed it.
He was after me, not you. I should have guessed it.
You couldn’t have known. We were both looking in the wrong direction.
When I saw that face . . .
A remnant of despair drifted into her mind from Max’s. It was so deep it brought tears to her eyes.
It’s all right. It’s over.
It’s all right. It’s over.
I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I can’t lose you, Deedee.
You won’t, Max. I’m here to stay
.
.
“The ambulance should be here soon. Do you folks need some assistance?”
The policeman’s voice cut through their haze. More voices came from outside. A siren wailed in the distance. Max shoved himself back to his feet and helped Delaney to stand. Two more officers stood at the window Virgil had gone through. One spoke on his radio. The crackled response was a blur until one phrase floated free from the rest.
“Budge is dead.”
Max jerked. His chest heaved as it had when he’d been running here, as if he couldn’t draw enough air into his lungs. She curled her thoughts around his to steady him.
“Better wait for the paramedics, Frank. The drop wasn’t that far.”
“No, he’s dead, all right. He hit the edge of the deck and snapped his neck.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Max said hoarsely. “I finally did it.”
The policeman lowered his radio. “We all saw what happened, Harrison. It was accidental.”
“That’s right. I wasn’t trying to kill him. I was trying to save—” His voice broke. A long-forgotten thought rose from his memories.
On the very day he had decided to take a life, his destiny had been to save one.
Max folded Delaney into his arms. Images streamed from his mind to hers. The pond where he’d first seen her. The cement block step in front of the trailer where he’d last seen Virgil. The fire from six months ago, and the fire that Max had stopped from happening today. Something shifted into place, like a puzzle, like two halves at last fitting together to form a whole, like . . .
Like destiny fulfilled.
EPILOGUE
“THE SWELLING WITHIN MISS GRAYE’S SKULL HAS GONE down.” Dr. McFadden made a note in the chart he held as he spoke. “Her body is healing well, due in part to her excellent physical condition.”
Delaney stepped around the extra shelf they’d placed in the room to accommodate all the flowers Elizabeth had received. Cards and gifts had been pouring in from the Grayecorp staff, although so far only one friend had come to Willowbank to visit her. Edgar and Pete, on the other hand, had been swamped with well-wishers. They were both expected to make a full recovery from Virgil’s attack. “Has she shown any signs of waking up?”
“No, I’m afraid not. She continues to be unresponsive.”
Max squeezed Delaney’s shoulder. “Go ahead and talk to her. Sometimes people in comas can hear what’s going on around them.”
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