Dean's List Page 18

  "Of course I do. Despite our problems, I've never stopped loving you." Still squeezing her arm, he ran his fingers over her cheeks.

  Lydia flinched at his touch.

  "Let's go." He pulled on her arm, leading her out of the woods.

  She didn't say anything, her mind rushing with ways to escape. He would have to let go of her at some point. Then she could run again. Her feet stung and ached, so it would be hard to get away. Maybe there would be others in the parking lot at the motel. She could make enough noise to worry Dean, and he would be forced to let her go.

  They came back to the sidewalk, and Lydia looked around. Again, there was no one in sight. Nobody to help her. Once back at the hotel parking lot, he unlocked his car with the remote.

  "What about my car?" she asked.

  "You were going to leave it here overnight, anyway. I'm sure it'll be fine."

  "My stuff. I left it up by the room."

  "Ah, that's right. I'll be sure to grab it before we leave."

  "My car. Just let me drive it home, Dean. I promise to follow you home."

  "You ran away from me, darling. I can't trust you. We'll report it stolen, and have it towed back."

  "But, I—"

  "Enough. I need to give you some time to think." He clicked his remote again, and the trunk popped open.

  Lydia's heart sank, and she turned to look Dean in the eyes. "No, Dean. Don't. Please."

  His grip around her arm tightened, and he forced her to walk toward the open trunk. She saw rope and duct tape inside.

  Stuck

  Cara called Dean again. She'd lost count of how many calls she'd made already. He would be pissed, but she didn't care. He owed her an explanation. She carried his baby, and he said she was the most special woman in his life. He promised to drop Lydia, but he kept putting that off.

  Voice mail.

  "Ugh!" Cara paced the bedroom, thinking of their last encounter, and how wonderful it'd been. He truly adored her, even her growing belly. He was a real man—something her husband never would be.

  Cara's phone rang. Bri again. When would she and Savannah get the clue? She didn't want to talk to them. Not now.

  She still wanted to slap Lydia for that. It made Cara wonder if Lydia knew about them, and it was only a show. Could she be trying to win back her husband because suddenly he seemed valuable again now that Cara wanted him?

  Cara laughed. Oh, the irony. All Lydia had was a marriage certificate and a house. Cara rubbed her belly. She had what really mattered—family. She and Dean would forever be connected no matter what. Lydia couldn't give that to him.

  A smirk spread across her face thinking about Lydia's face when she found out about Dean being the father of Cara's baby. At first, Cara had felt bad about the whole thing. But that was before Ethan kicked her out of her own house. If he would have let them have their little family, everything would have been fine with Lydia…but now it was different. Cara needed Dean, and that meant war.

  It didn't need to be that way. If Lydia had continued hating him, she might have been happy for Cara. She would have been glad to wash her hands of him. Had they been friends still, Cara would have insisted Dean take care of Lydia financially. Not now. She could live on the street for all Cara cared.

  Trying to get Dean back after all this time—after he'd fathered her baby.

  Cara's phone rang again.

  "Will you leave me alone?" she shouted. Cara looked at her phone. Dean.

  She almost didn't answer in time. "Dean? What's going on, honey?" she asked as sweetly as possible.

  "Why do you keep calling, Cara?"

  "You wouldn't answer."

  "I left my phone in the car, and come back to more than a dozen missed calls—all from you. Couldn't you see how upset I was before I left the house?"

  "Yes," Cara said. "That's why I had to find out if you're okay."

  "I'm fine! When I'm busy, just leave me alone. Got it? How much more clear do I need to make myself to you?"

  "I was just worried about you."

  "Cara, I can take care of myself. I've been doing that for years."

  "Okay. When are you coming home?"

  "When I get there." His voice was sharp.

  "That doesn't tell me anything. Dean, I need you."

  "And I need you to be patient. I have things going on that you can't possibly understand."

  Cara felt like she'd been slapped. "You'd be surprised how much I understand. I'm not like Lydia."

  "Shut up. I don't want you talking about her."

  "I can see you're upset." Cara took a deep breath. "When you're ready to come home, I'll be waiting. I might be asleep, but just wake me. Okay?"

  "Great. And Cara?"

  "Yes?"

  "Stop calling me." The call ended.

  Cara's blood boiled. How dare he? Did he think she was disposable? When he got back, they needed to have a serious conversation. Talking to her like that was going to end. She wasn't putting up with it for another minute. He could have his cake this time, but then it was over.

  Her phone rang again. This time it was Savannah. Cara answered this time. She needed to take her foul mood out on someone.

  "What?" Cara demanded.

  "Where are you?" Savannah asked. "Bri and I have been trying to reach you all day."

  "I've been busy. What's it to you?"

  "We're concerned, Cara. Are you okay?"

  "Couldn't be better."

  "You don't sound good."

  "I just had an argument with someone."

  "Dean? Is he with you?"

  "I don't want to talk about him right now, Savannah."

  "We went to your house today. Talked to Ethan."

  "So, you know I was kicked out of my own house."

  "Honey, we want to help you."

  "Don't need it. Dean's taking wonderful care of me."

  "Where?"

  "We have a house."

  "Why am I not surprised?" Savannah asked.

  There were muffled noises over the phone. "Cara?" asked Bri. "What's going on? Is Dean with you?"

  "Not at the moment. He's due back soon, though."

  "You've got to get out of there."

  "Why?" Cara demanded. "Because it's hurting Lydia's feelings? She needs to grow up. If she hadn't ignored him all those years, he wouldn't have been so eager to bring me into their bed."

  Bri sighed. "Cara, there's a lot about Dean you don't know."

  "And there's a lot Lydia doesn't know. Why don't you put her on the phone, and I can tell her."

  "We can't. She's not with us—but you're in danger."

  "Me?" Cara asked. "Is she going to come after me?"

  "No. Dean's dangerous."

  "He wouldn't hurt a fly." Cara rubbed the spot where he had slapped her earlier.

  "Actually, he would," Bri said. "And he has. He's been killing women for some time."

  "What? Shut up, liar."

  "Seriously, Cara. We have proof."

  "Do you realize the gravity of that accusation?" Cara asked.

  "Of course I do. You need to get out of that house before he comes back and decides you're next."

  "He loves me."

  "Dean only loves himself."

  More muffling sounds. "Cara, this is Savannah again. You've got to listen to us. We don't want to see you killed."

  "Let's say I was going to listen to you guys, that I believe Dean would hurt me. Where would I go? Back to Ethan?"

  "Stay at my house. We have plenty of room."

  Cara was quiet. Could they be right? Sure, Dean had a temper. But that didn't make him a killer.

  "Think about it, Cara. It explains his traveling. No one is away for work that much. No one."

  "You say you have proof?" Cara's hand found its way back to the spot where she'd been slapped.

  "Yes, but you have to leave first."

  "He's really dangerous?" Cara asked, her voice cracking.

  "Worse than that." The fear and worry elevat
ed in Savannah's voice.

  "My baby's daddy is a killer?" Cara whispered.

  "Yes."

  "What have I done?"

  "Just get out of there—now. We're at Bri's house."

  Cara stood frozen in place. It actually did make sense. His erratic behavior, the long business trips, and the secrecy.

  "Cara?" asked Savannah.

  "I'm here. I just need to pack a few things."

  "Hurry."

  Cara ended the call, and then stared at the phone. Was she really about to start her life with a killer? What if her baby got the murderous gene? She stood in place, feeling as though the room moved around her.

  At least she hadn't been stupid enough to marry him… yet.

  Were the cops after him? Is that why he was out somewhere, not answering his calls? Had he only escaped for a minute to call her back to tell her how stupid he thought she was?

  What if he was on his way to the house right then?

  She forced her feet into motion. She grabbed a bag, and stuffed some essentials in it. She ran through the house looking for anything she didn't want to leave behind. Most of it was too large to run to the car.

  With her arms full, Cara left the house, and ran out front to the car. She threw the bags in and put the key in the ignition, and turned. Nothing happened. Not even the sounds of it trying to start.

  Cara tried again a few times before giving up. She pulled the latch to open the hood even though she knew next to nothing about cars. Maybe there would be something obvious. A plug that had come loose or something.

  She ran around to the hood, looking over the sight in front of her. Near the middle, a group of wires were sliced in two. Someone had cut the wires. Dean.

  Fear and dread tore through her. Cara looked around, expecting to see him ready to pounce. Nobody was in sight.

  Tears filling her eyes, she went back into the car and called Bri back.

  "Are you on your way?" Bri asked.

  "I can't. My car's been tampered with. I can't go anywhere."

  "He knew you'd try to leave," Bri said. "Let me send one of the guys to get you."

  "Not Tom," Savannah said in the background. "I don't want her near him alone."

  Cara's heart sank, but she knew she deserved that.

  "You think she's going to try something right now?" Bri asked. Then she spoke into the phone. "What's your address? I'll send Corey."

  Home

  The car stopped, and the engine cut. Lydia stopped squirming. With any luck, Dean would let her out of the trunk. She didn't care where they were. She just needed to find a way to get away from him. Though now, instead of just cut feet, she had rope burns on her ankles and wrists. He'd tied her tight, and then her squirming had only made it worse.

  Lydia had hoped to get one of the ropes off so she could break out a tail light or find the emergency release that hopefully hadn't been removed. Knowing Dean, he had probably found a way.

  The trunk opened, and Dean appeared standing over her. "Hopefully, the ride home gave you time to think things over."

  She stared at him, unable to say anything because of the duct tape over her mouth.

  "Are you going to cooperate?"

  Lydia mumbled.

  "Nod!"

  She nodded her head yes.

  "Good. I'm glad to hear it." He reached into the trunk, and picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder.

  Lydia squirmed.

  "Stop that," Dean demanded. "You're going to make me drop you, and that'll hurt worse than your feet. I guarantee it."

  She looked down at the hard garage floor and quit fighting. There would be plenty of time for that later. He carried her into the house, and up the stairs, heading for their room. He threw her on the bed.

  "I need to know I can trust you."

  Lydia nodded again.

  "You're not going to try anything funny?"

  She shook her head.

  "Good. I want nothing more than to have you at my side, Lyds." He pulled the duct tape from her mouth in one quick but painful motion. He threw the tape aside and sat next to her. "Let's talk, and then once I'm sure you're on my side, we'll discuss removing the ropes."

  Lydia bit her tongue, not trusting herself to speak.

  "Since you know all about my escapades now, I was thinking you could travel with me. Not only could we rebuild our marriage, but you can learn from me how to do this right."

  "Killing people?"

  He nodded. "There's a method, and it takes practice. I had to learn by making mistakes, but you don't have to."

  Lydia squirmed. "Okay. Can you cut these ropes, please? They're really digging into my skin."

  "You'll be okay for a little longer, Lyds. It'll build character."

  Character? What did he know about that? In a split-second decision, she bit into his arm. She dug in as far as she could, knowing it might be her only chance to hurt him. If nothing else, it would leave a scar so that someday her dental records could prove he'd been the one to hurt her. Maybe it would even lead them to the other women.

  Dean let out a cry. "How dare you?" He stood. "I thought you said I could trust you."

  "I thought you were going to let me out of these ties."

  He swore at her. "So, apparently you're going to take more convincing. You stay here." He shoved her so that she landed on her back.

  Dean left the room, closing the door behind him. Lydia heard him slide something in front of it. She looked around the room. There had to be something she could do, or use, to get out of the situation. She rolled around until she could manage to stand.

  The window. If she could maneuver her way behind the curtain, maybe she could catch the attention of someone outside. She made her way over to the wall, careful not to hop or make any other noises. She couldn't alert Dean that she was up to something.

  She pushed herself against the wall, and then worked her way behind the curtain. The blinds were drawn. She tried to push her head behind them, but that didn't work.

  Her heart pounded in her ears. She could hear Dean downstairs. It wouldn't be long before he came back up. She looked around for something—anything. The drawstrings for the blinds hung next to her. Lydia moved over a few steps, and then opened her mouth and bit one of them.

  She pulled down with her head, and half of the blind went up, but the other end stayed down. She tried to bite the other string, but let go of the first, causing the blinds so slam down against the window sill.

  "Crap!"

  Lydia bit the string again and pulled as hard as she could. Again, only half of the blinked went up, but this time it stuck. She pressed her face against the window and looked down. She couldn't see anyone.

  "Come on," she muttered. "Someone walk by. Look up."

  She heard Dean on the stairs. Lydia moved away from the window. If nothing else, someone might see the blinds messed up, and knock on the door to complain. Some of the HOA members got their panties in a knot over stuff like that. At least she could use that to her advantage. Sandra McMillan would never be able to ignore that, not even if she was late for a meeting. She would have no other choice but to stop and demand the blind was fixed. She might even insist on going upstairs to fix it herself.

  Lydia heard the scraping of Dean moving the object away from the doorway. She made her way back to the bed, but didn't have time to sit before Dean opened the door.

  "I see you found a way to get off the bed. That's unfortunate because you're going right back there." He held up a knife. It was a gift from their wedding. "I didn't want to have to bring this up here, but you left me no other choice."

  Lydia's heart sank. She threw herself onto the bed.

  "Good girl," Dean said, his voice smooth. He flipped her over. "See this knife?"

  She stared.

  He grabbed her hair and yanked. "See it?"

  "Yes."

  "I didn't want to use this on you, Lyds. I really, really didn't. But you've left me with no other choice. What else am I sup
posed to do when you go and bite me? You can't even claim it was an accident. You drew blood."

  She stared at him, her nostrils flaring. It took every ounce of self-control not to say anything. She would have to work to gain his trust again.

  "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

  Lydia shook her head.

  "Surely, you have something. You don't bite someone for no reason."

  She stuffed every ounce of her dignity aside. "I'm sorry, Dean. I wasn't thinking. Really, I was just scared. It won't happen again."

  He pressed the knife against her throat. "Damn straight it won't."

  Lydia swallowed, tears threatening. "I promise. Please, give me another chance."

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you? All you've done is prove to me that I can't trust you."

  "I'm sorry." A tear ran down her face. "Please."

  He pressed the knife into her flesh. Lydia could feel a small amount of blood run down her neck.

  "I do like it when you beg." He looked at her with expectation.

  Lydia shook. "Dean, think about all the good times we've had. We can have many more."

  "That's not begging." He shoved the knife in deeper.

  "Please stop. Please." More tears ran down her face.

  "Tell me you'll do anything."

  "I will."

  "Say it!"

  "I'll do anything."

  Dean sat back, taking the knife with him. "That's what I love to hear. But the problem is I don't know if I can believe you."

  Ride

  Cara shook in the seat. She couldn't focus on a thing Corey said. Whatever it was didn't sound important. Cara was sure he was only trying to calm her down, and she couldn't imagine that happening anytime soon.

  They drove into their neighborhood, and Corey took the long way, driving by the Harris house. Cara looked over, and noticed a blind halfway up.

  "Wait."

  Corey stopped the car. "What? Do you see Dean?"

  "No, but look."

  "What?" he asked.

  Men. Cara could never believe how dense they were. "Look up at the window over there." She pointed toward the blind.

  "You think that means something?" Corey asked.

  "Well, yeah. Lydia's such a perfectionist, she'd never let a blind sit like that."