Authors: Jennifer Ryan
Brody gave him a hearty slap on the back when he reached the bottom of the ladder. Firemen let loose with the water hose, shooting it at the flames licking out from beneath the roof eaves.
“They can’t save it,” Brody said, leading him behind the firemen who’d taken Claire to the front of the house on a stretcher. They set her on the ground out of the way of the firemen trying to contain the fire to the house and not let it spread across the dry grass to the couple of outbuildings.
A medic put an oxygen mask over Claire’s face, slid a cuff onto her arm, and checked her blood pressure and used a stethoscope to listen to her heart. The frown made Owen’s heart sink into his stomach. The guy pressed on her bruised ribs. The first sign of life sent him to his knees beside her. She flinched from the pressure to her battered side and coughed uncontrollably, trying to roll to her side, but the medic and Owen held her down.
“You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m here,” Owen crooned, holding her hand to his cheek. She didn’t open her eyes, but the coughing subsided when the medic gave her some water. He used an instrument to check her nose and throat.
“She’s got clear airways, despite the irritation from the smoke,” the medic reassured him. “I’m concerned about that head injury. She may have a concussion to go with her cracked ribs. I don’t think they’re broken, but we’ll get X rays at the hospital. The ambulance should be here in the next couple of minutes.”
“Thanks for taking care of her.”
“You got her out fast and alive. That’s what counts.”
The medic covered her with a blanket. Owen held her hand and whispered he loved her into her ear. He hoped and prayed she heard him and held on until they got her to the hospital. Even he could hear how hard she labored for each breath. The longer she struggled, the more she squirmed and tried to shift to relieve the ache in her ribs. He hated every moment she hurt.
“Where the fuck is that ambulance?”
“Right there.” The medic pointed to the driveway. The blue and red flashing lights momentarily confused him, but then his vision focused past the chaos of the firemen and police on scene to the car that pulled in behind the ambulance.
Shannon.
Owen felt the rage swell inside of him and fill him up, but he held it down, leaned over Claire, and kissed her on the lips, despite the nasty cut.
“I love you. I swear to you, no one will ever hurt you like this again.”
The rage was only tempered by the squeeze of her hand in his. She’d heard him.
“I love you, sweetheart, but I have to leave you for a few minutes. I promise you, I’ll be right back.”
She held firm to his hand, letting him know without words she didn’t want him to go.
“I need to finish this once and for all. I swear to you, I’ll be right back. Brody is right here beside you.”
Owen placed Claire’s hand in his brothers. “Don’t let go. Watch over her until I get back.”
“I swear, no one gets by me,” Brody assured him. “Go. Do what you have to do.”
Owen touched his finger to her forehead and with a heavy heart left her in Brody’s protection. Not that Shannon would get past him. Not this time. Not again.
Owen approached Dylan, who stood at the front of Shannon’s car, waiting for her to get out.
“Ready?” Dylan asked, saying so much in that one short word.
“I’ve got this,” he said, reining in his rage and the need to kill her the minute he saw her. Instead, he thought quickly, ordering his thoughts into a cohesive plan.
Shannon stepped out of the car and approached them. He hoped she saw grief on his face and not anger. He noted the black eye, the bruise on her jaw, and the gashes on her arms. Claire didn’t go down easily. No, she went down fighting.
“Owen, are you okay? You look terrible,” Shannon said, rushing up to him, putting her hands on his chest, and pressing close. He let her. She’d played games with his life, his turn to play games with hers.
“She’s gone,” he said, his voice gruff and raw, mostly thanks to the smoke he’d inhaled saving Claire, but it worked to his advantage now. Okay, maybe he played it up.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice filled with concern. He wondered how she did that so convincingly.
“I don’t know how the fire started, but she must have been overcome from the smoke.” He touched his finger to her eye, which probably hurt like hell. She didn’t even flinch, but leaned into his touch. “What happened to you? Are you okay?” he asked, adding as much fake concern as he could to the question.
“Dale. He came back and did this to me. He threatened to finish it. I guess, maybe . . . Do you think he came here to kill Claire?”
So that’s how she wanted to play this. Blame Dale again. Make him the scapegoat to her latest plan to get Claire out of the picture and somehow win his heart.
“When did you see Dale?” he asked, holding her by the shoulders.
“Just a little while ago. He found me at the house. We got into it when he refused to leave. I rushed out here, concerned he might have gone after you or Claire again.”
“Why didn’t you call the police? You know I can’t stand it when he hurts you.”
“Oh, Owen, everything is going to be okay. They’ll find Dale and arrest him for all of this. Claire is gone, but you’ve got me to lean on. We’ll get through this together.”
“You think so?” he asked, squeezing her arms when she tried to pull back.
“Owen, you’re hurting me.”
He met her gaze and squeezed harder, seeing the excitement in her eyes. He dropped his voice and whispered, “You like it when it hurts just a little bit.”
“Owen?”
He slid one hand up over her shoulder to the back of her neck and pulled her close. He cringed being this close, but sucked it up for Claire, and whispered in Shannon’s ear. “You like it. You want me to make it hurt oh so good, because that’s what excites you. That’s what gets you off.”
Her hand came up to hold on to his wrist. She smiled and her breath came out in short pants, excitement and anticipation rolling off her in waves.
“You understand me,” she said. “Without her in the way, you’ll see, we’ll be so good together.”
Owen traced his fingers across her neck, drawing away from her. He made a show of wiping his hand down his shirt, like wiping off something distasteful after touching her. He had to admit, as much as he wanted to wrap his fingers around her throat and choke the life out of her, he hated touching her.
Surprised and confused, she stared up at him, but didn’t see the real danger in front of her.
“I have something to tell you.”
“What? What is it?” she asked, a bundle of anticipation.
“Dale is locked up behind bars. He has been in custody for days and weeks before that.”
Her eyes went wide. She stepped back, her butt hitting the front of her car. Nowhere to go, he took a menacing step closer and she leaned back, finally understanding the threat he posed.
“I know you hurt Claire. Over and over again, you terrorized her all in some sick attempt to get her out of my life. This has been nothing but your vain attempt to get my attention. Well, you have it.”
She reached up and grasped his shirt in both hands. “Owen, please, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry you got caught.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she pleaded, her eyes filling with tears he ignored. Too good of an actress, he didn’t believe a single tear that slid down her cheek.
“You smell like smoke. I’ll bet we find your skin under Claire’s nails. If that isn’t enough, you’re wearing her engagement ring.” He pointed looked down at the hand fisted in his shirt. “That ring and everything it symbolizes belongs to Claire. I love her. I feel nothing but pity and contempt for you. I will do everything in my power to see you spend the maximum amount of time behind bars for doing this.”
“Maybe, but you won’t have her.”
“Yes, I will.” He turned just enough to give her the perfect view of them loading Claire into the ambulance, Brody beside her, holding her hand.
“No!” Shannon shoved past him, but he grabbed her wrist and held on, until she stopped trying to pull free.
He got right in her face. “I’ll see you spend the rest of your miserable days behind bars. You like pain. I hope you find it every day for the rest of your life without ever feeling any of the pleasure you crave at another’s expense.”
Owen pulled Claire’s ring free and shoved Shannon away, right into Dylan’s hands. Stunned by the move, Dylan had her handcuffed before she knew what was happening. Dylan stuffed her into this patrol car. Pissed off and out of control, she kicked the seat and thrashed against the backrest.
“Stop, or I’ll tase your ass,” he threatened.
Both of them shook their heads when a spark of anticipation lit her eyes.
“There is something truly wrong with that woman,” Dylan said, walking with him to the ambulance.
Brody switched places with him, and Owen sat on the small bench beside Claire, holding her hand. He slipped the ring onto her finger and kissed her palm.
Her eyes fluttered open, and he showed her the ring. “Shannon is on her way to jail. This belongs to you, and so do I. I love you.”
Claire squeezed his hand. He let out a deep sigh and pressed her palm to his cheek as the paramedic watched over Claire and they drove to the hospital. He stayed by her side, and would for the rest of his days.
O
WEN SAT BESIDE
Claire’s hospital bed, marveling that ten months after he’d sat beside her like this after the fire she held his baby boy in her arms. Tired after the birth, she still looked radiant when she smiled.
“He’s beautiful,” she said.
“You’re amazing.”
She laughed and reached up to stroke his cheek. “I’m tired, but I can’t stop looking at him.”
“I can’t stop looking at both of you in wonder. I’m so happy, Claire, and so damn lucky to have both of you in my life.” He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles above her wedding rings.
The first time he brought Claire home from the hospital, he’d surprised her with the few items that survived the fire that she’d packed in her car. He’d hung the black-and-white photos of Paris in their bedroom. The four sea scenes hung in the bathroom as she’d had them at her house. He put the pretty blue glass bottles on the sunken tub ledge. The other items he’d spread through the downstairs living room and kitchen so that any room she entered, there’d be a piece of her mixed with his.
She cried that day for all she’d lost, but soon wiped the tears and looked to their future and planning their wedding.
They got married two months after she got out of the hospital. A small ceremony in the backyard he’d had landscaped with a stone patio and path to complement the deck. Flowers and shrubs filled in the garden spaces. With the tall, old trees spreading their limbs over everything, the canopy shaded the yard and cocooned them in the quiet peacefulness they found out there together both day and night.
A knock sounded at the door. Brody pushed it open and allowed Dawn, Autumn, and Rain, carrying baby David, into the room before he followed.
Brody finally asked Rain to marry him the night before they moved into their new house. He married her in a quiet family ceremony a month after David arrived. Owen served as best man and Claire stood beside Rain as her matron of honor. Dawn and Autumn were beautiful flower girls at both weddings with little Will serving as the ring bearer.
“Hey, is it a good time for a visit?” Rain asked.
Owen stood and wrapped her in a hug. “Hey, beautiful. It’s a great time to have family around.”
Owen greeted his brother with a hug and a slap on the back. They stood side by side, looking down at their wives sitting next to each other with the two new McBride boys in their arms.
“If they’re anything like us,” Brody said, “We’re in trouble.”
Owen laughed and smiled at his wife. “I’m up for it. Are you?”
“Absolutely.”
Another knock sounded and Dylan stuck his head in. “Mind if we come in?”
“Not at all,” Claire called, showing off the baby to Dawn and Autumn, who stood close to the edge of the bed to get a better look.
Dylan had bought Claire’s old place and built a new house. He and Will had settled in just a week ago. Dylan was busy buying furniture and keeping the peace in town.
Owen gave Will a tickle to the gut, snatched him from Dylan’s arms, and settled him at the foot of the bed next to David under Rain’s watchful eye. He turned back to Dylan and accepted the congratulatory hug. Sticking close, he whispered, “I heard about Mr. Thompson dying this morning.”
“Yeah,” was all Dylan said.
“Did you speak to Brian about Jessie?”
“No. Not yet, but I will. I just hope it’s not too late to find out what really happened to her. If she didn’t leave town on her own, I hope that bastard didn’t take his secrets to the grave.”
Owen hoped so, too. For Dylan’s sake. He gave his cousin a squeeze on the shoulder and propelled him toward Brody to say hello and join the family. He settled on the bed next to Claire, his arm around her shoulders, their baby asleep on her chest.