I started crying. Brock kissed me again, then let me go, so Killian could pull me closer. Brock looked at Killian, a few tense seconds passed, before he offered his hand. “Congratulations, man. I mean that.”
“Your mother?” I was pacing back and forth in the living room, barely holding onto my anger. “Your mother is the puppet master?” I stopped pacing, not missing the look between Brock and Killian, but what the fuck? That bitch stayed in the shadows while fucking up everyone’s life. “What’s the plan?” I looked from Brock to Killian. “There is a plan, right?”
They were so different, but there were times, when they were just alike, and now was one of those times. I didn’t need to be a detective to deduce Ashley wanted the twenty million that she stole, the same money stolen from her by Brock. And the only way to Brock was through me, and both of them absolutely didn’t want me to be the plan.
“I’m doing this,” I said, dropping my hands on my hips in challenge.
Killian was leaning a shoulder against the wall, his hands in his pockets. He gave one headshake.
Brock, who was lounging on the sofa, also shook his head.
“Using me as bait is the best way to draw her out.”
“No,” Killian said.
I understood, and I appreciated how fiercely I was protected, but that woman fucked up my life. “Her shit cost me my parents. Cost me my best friend. Cost me fifteen years while I tried to find myself again.” My gaze lingered on Killian. “It brought me to you, but that is the only silver lining.” I walked to him, put my hands on his abs. “I need the closure.”
He said nothing, so I continued, “I know you’ve thought it all through. You’re too good at your job not to.” I glanced back at Brock. “You’ve got him and your deputies, you completely control the situation. I wouldn’t be in any real danger.”
Brock stood. “Don’t like it, but you know she’s right. We can flush her out by removing Webster.”
“Yeah, and Cedar is the fucking bait.” Killian growled. “You’re pregnant.” He reminded me.
“That’s partly why I want to do this. For our child, for the peace of knowing that the past really is in the past.” I looked into his face, loved him more than I knew was possible, and realized what I was doing to him, asking for this, knowing it went against everything that made him the man I loved. “I’ll do whatever you want.” His expression softened, and his eyes warmed. “I mean it. I love you. I want a life with you, so whatever you want me to do.”
It was late; his cock was still inside me, the orgasm still making my toes curl when Killian ordered, “Open your eyes.”
As soon as I did, he said, “You’ll have a part, but it will have to be enough for your closure, because you aren’t getting anywhere near this.”
God, I loved him. “Okay.”
His eyes moved over my face, his voice a rough whisper, “Best fucking thing in my life.”
I touched his face, brushed his hair from his forehead. “Best fucking thing in my life.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
She’d been watching the house for days. Fucking Webster, no goddamn balls, running scared. He’d been spooked, which meant that fucking sheriff was onto her. She had to get the hell out of dodge, but not without her twenty million.
She didn’t like rushing things, because that caused mistakes, but she didn’t have time to think everything through. She’d been casing out the house for the last few days, but it was no good. And those damn dogs.
She had to move on to plan b. She slipped on her sunglasses, put on the sunhat and stepped from the car. She walked down the street, but no one seeing her would really see her. Reaching the house, she walked up the front path and knocked on the door.
When the older woman answered, she lifted the gun. “I need you to make a call.”
Stepping inside, she gestured to the phone. “Call Cedar.”
The call connected, and Cedar answered. Ashley didn’t let her speak. “I’ve got a gun to her head. Come alone and tell no one.”
She dropped the phone, waved the gun. “On the sofa.” Her eyes drifted to the pictures on the table then back at the woman.
“You look good for a dead woman.” She spun around to see Brock, leaning against the doorjamb. “Miss me?”
She turned back to see the older woman had a gun trained on her. The sheriff appeared, stepping from the kitchen, gun leveled. Two cops came up behind her. A movement from the dining room and Detective Donnelly appeared.
Hard eyes turned on Brock, her gun aimed at his heart. “How the hell did you know?”
“You’re not as clever as you think,” Brock taunted. “And Webster has zero threshold for pain.”
“Get back or I’ll fucking kill him,” Ashley warned, looking around like a caged animal.
“You did that already,” he said, “Fifteen years ago.” He moved from the doorway and strolled toward her.
“Stop or I’ll shoot.” She looked into his eyes and saw no fear. He really didn’t care if she shot him. She started to squeeze the trigger when she heard the gunshot seconds before an exploding pain in her hand had her gun flying out of it. Her head jerked to the sheriff, just as Donnelly yanked her arms behind her and cuffed her.
Brock got right in her face. “Why?”
“For years, I let that man touch me. Had to dope myself up
