Dean's List Page 19

  "What do you think it means? Could she be in there?"

  "Maybe."

  He swore, and then pulled out his phone. Cara could hear it ringing, and then she heard Bri's voice.

  Corey cut her off. "Do you think Lydia could be in her house with Dean? … I know what you told me." He went on to explain the blind. Cara heard Bri yelling through the phone. She also knew Lydia wouldn't leave the blinds like that, not unless something was wrong.

  Corey put the phone away, and then turned to Cara. "I'm going to look around the house. You stay here, and lock the doors until I get back."

  "Shouldn't someone call the cops?"

  "Bri's on it. Just stay here." Corey got out of the car and then motioned for Cara to lock it.

  She pushed the button, locking the doors. Cara watched as Corey hurried to the house, looking inside windows. He walked around until she couldn't see him anymore.

  Cara's pulse picked up. The last thing she needed was to run into Dean in her condition.

  She clutched the armrest, digging her fingers into it. Sweat broke out on her forehead. The baby moved erratically in her stomach. She rubbed her belly, realizing how important it was that she calm down. She took deep breaths, and focused on the baby. Dean wasn't after her. She was safe in the car.

  Finally, her heartbeat returned to normal, and she looked back toward the house. Corey should be back by now. It shouldn't have taken him that long to walk around the house, even if he'd had to climb over the fence. She couldn't recall if there were locks on their gates or not.

  "Calm down," she ordered herself. Maybe Corey had just found a way in. She looked back up toward the window. The blind was still messed up.

  Her phone rang, startling her. It was Bri. Probably wanting to know where Corey was.

  "Hi, Bri."

  "What's going on? Why isn't Corey answering his phone?"

  "He's looking around the house."

  "Is he okay?"

  "I'm sure he is. He's smart."

  "Yeah, but if Dean has a gun, that doesn't matter." Bri's voice cracked.

  "Corey's smart. He's not going to walk into a situation and do something stupid. He knows you and the girls are his first priority."

  "Right. You're exactly right."

  They were quiet for a minute. Cara watched the house, waiting for Corey to show.

  "Do you see him yet?"

  "No. I'm sure he's fine."

  Sirens sounded in the distance.

  "You called the police, right?" Cara asked.

  "Yeah, they should be on the way over there now."

  "I think I hear them."

  "Oh, thank God." Bri let out a long breath. "Do you see them?"

  Cara turned the rear view mirror so she could see behind her. "I see the lights flashing."

  Ambush

  Lydia's heart nearly exploded out of her chest, staring at Dean as he played with the knife that now had a little of her blood on it. "You can trust me, Dean. I swear."

  "After the stunt you just pulled?" He stuck the sharp end of the knife underneath his nail, flicking out dirt. "That's from you making me chase you in those woods."

  Her mind raced. She had to prove trustworthy before she became his next victim. "Think of everything I've done for you, sweetie. Decorated this room just the way you like. Remember? You didn't want to go shopping, so I did all, getting your opinion every step of the way."

  "You just bit me, Lydia." He set the knife aside.

  "I can't help it. You tied me up."

  "So you can't control yourself?" He asked, digging dirt out of another nail. "That doesn't instill confidence in me."

  "No, I mean… don't get me wrong. I have full self-control, I just…." How would she talk her way out of it and keep his trust? She took a deep breath. "Dean, I love you. I regret biting you. It was wrong of me to do that. How could I risk injuring those perfect arms? You know how I've always loved your muscles."

  He looked up, raising an eyebrow.

  "I wish I could feel them right now, baby."

  "You do?" He set the knife down.

  Lydia forced her most sultry expression. "Let me run my hands up and down them, Dean. Feel how strong and powerful you are."

  He sat up taller. "Then what? I'd have to loosen the ropes."

  "I won't try to hurt you again. I learned my lesson. The only thing I want is to stand at your side. Take me traveling with you, like you said. We haven't acted like a married couple in so long. It'll be like a second honeymoon."

  "That does sound nice, but I need to know I can trust you. I'm just not convinced yet." He rubbed the bite.

  Lydia scooted closer. "What can I do to prove my loyalty?"

  He looked deep in thought. "I'll just have to give you the benefit of the doubt. Just know that I won't hesitate to cut you again—only worse next time."

  Lydia jumped, her pulse racing.

  "I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes you, Lydia. You're really the only one for me—but I won't hesitate to add you to my list. Do you understand?"

  She swallowed. "Yes."

  "I don't want to hurt you, but if you make me, I will." He narrowed his eyes. "Have I made myself clear?"

  "Crystal."

  "Let me see those ropes."

  Lydia turned her back to him. She heard him slicing through the knots.

  "Oops," he said, and then Lydia felt a cut on her wrist.

  She gasped.

  "Don't worry, it's not too deep. Just like your neck. Think of it as a reminder to behave."

  Lydia nodded her head. At least she would be free of the ropes. Once she had the freedom to move around, she could figure out how to get out of the house, and as far away from Dean as possible.

  One thing at a time.

  "Ouch!" she cried as he nicked her on the other wrist.

  "So sorry." The corners of his mouth twitched.

  She took a deep breath. "I know you didn't mean it, dear."

  "Oh, I meant it. Just need to make sure to keep you in line. You asked how you can show me your loyalty—trust me enough to let you hurt you."

  Lydia felt blood drain from her face. Exactly how far did he intend to go? She cleared her throat. "Of course, Dean. That's the least I could do to prove my love to you."

  "That's my girl." He pulled the ropes away from her arms.

  Lydia brought her arms back in front of her. She cried out in pain. Her arms were sore from having been behind her for so long.

  "Are you okay, Lyds?" Dean asked. He rubbed her shoulders. "Does that help?"

  She nodded, tears stinging her eyes. She blinked them away before Dean could see them.

  "Now for those ropes around your ankles." He looked at her, his eyes lighting up as though excited.

  Lydia's breath caught. Was he going to cut her ankles, too? She rubbed the cuts on her wrists, getting blood on her fingers.

  He reached down and pulled her feet up onto the bed, making it hard for her to balance. She had to put her hands on the bedspread to keep from falling over. Blood got on the white fabric, and she quickly covered it with her hand before Dean could see it.

  "Look at your poor feet," he said, rubbing her soles. "You shouldn't have run away from me like that barefoot."

  Lydia grimaced, trying not to react from the pain.

  He rubbed harder. "Does that hurt?"

  "It's…a little…sore." She gritted her teeth.

  "Oh, that's too bad," Dean said, his tone mocking. He pushed harder on her feet. "Well, let's get this rope off you, and then we can get you cleaned up."

  She nodded, biting her tongue. The pain spread from her feet up into her legs.

  "You don't mind me hurting you, do you?" he asked, holding the knife near the knot.

  "Go ahead," she whispered. "Anything to let you know how much you can trust me."

  Dean grinned. "You don't know how happy this makes me." He cut the rope in short, swift motions.

  Lydia couldn't help watching. She knew he was going to cut
her, but she didn't know when. It was like one of the jack-in-the-box toys that had always scared her as a child, always jumping up when she least expected it.

  He continued to cut at the rope, but not her. She relaxed. Maybe he finally trusted her enough to stop cutting into her skin.

  "How are you doing, Lyds?" He rubbed her knee.

  She forced a smile. "Just glad to be back on good terms with you again, sweetie."

  "You just keep making me happier and happier."

  Lydia let out a sigh of relief. She continued watching him. He was almost all the way through the rope.

  Slice.

  His hand moved from the rope to her ankle, cutting her skin about two inches.

  She bit her tongue and arched her back, trying to keep from crying out in pain.

  "Oh, are you okay?" he asked.

  Lydia looked at him and nodded, her face contorted with pain.

  "Well, I'm almost done. Then we can discuss our plans."

  She nodded her head. Finally finding her voice, she said, "Can't wait."

  "You sure you're okay?" he asked. "Your voice sounds strained."

  "Couldn't be better."

  "Good." He cut into the rope one more time and it came loose.

  Lydia pulled her knees up to her chest and rubbed the rope burns.

  A thud sounded downstairs.

  Dean's eyes widened. "What was that?"

  Lydia backed away. "I don't know."

  Something sounded from downstairs, sounding like a dull thud.

  He stuck the knife in his pocket and grabbed Lydia's arm, squeezing tight. His nails dug into her flesh. "Come on."

  Lydia's heart pounded all the harder, even though she hadn't thought it could go any faster. Dean dragged her down the stairs, making it difficult for her to keep up without stumbling. The normally-soft carpeting felt like razor blades on her sore, torn-up feet.

  Another noise sounded from downstairs, but this time it was softer.

  "Is someone down here?" Dean called as he stepped down from the last step. He yanked Lydia down, making her stumble. She landed against him, and he turned, giving her a dirty look. He turned back toward the rest of the downstairs. "I said—is anyone here?"

  Nothing.

  Lydia's breathing quickened, making it hard to focus. Someone had to be there. They'd heard the noises, and they didn't have any animals. Did someone see the blinds and try to sneak in?

  Dean walked toward the front door, pulling on Lydia's arms. She grimaced. His nails continued digging into her skin, one dug into a cut, making it hurt all the more.

  Nothing looked out of place there. Dean put his finger over his mouth and dragged Lydia around to the other side of the stairs. He swore and then yanked her into his office.

  The window sat open and several things from his desk were scattered around on the floor, broken.

  Dean shoved Lydia against the wall and then held up the knife, obviously as a warning not to try anything. He pulled a key out from another pocket and unlocked one of the drawers in his desk. He pulled out a gun and stuffed it into his pants at the waist.

  He let go, letting his shirt cover the gun. Then he grabbed Lydia and walked out of the office with her in front of him—his human shield.

  "Who's down here?" Dean called.

  Lydia knew whoever it was wouldn't answer, and she prayed that it was someone there to help her. She wasn't the praying type, but if she ever needed it, now was the time.

  Something caught her eye in the living room.

  It was Corey. He stood pressed against the wall.

  Lydia's eyes widened and her mouth gaped open.

  Corey put his finger to his mouth. He had a baseball bat in the other hand.

  She pointed in the direction of the other room. "I think I see something in there."

  "Where?" asked Dean.

  "Over there. It looks like someone trying to hide."

  He squeezed her arm tighter, pulling her along.

  She let a silent sigh of relief, glad that Dean hadn't seen Corey. Now that Dean had a gun on him, Corey didn't stand a chance against him.

  "I don't see anything." Dean turned around, pulling Lydia with him.

  Corey stood in the hallway only about a foot from them. He held the bat up.

  "What are you doing here, Corey?" Dean demanded.

  "My wife was afraid Lydia was in trouble. I get the impression she was right."

  "You broke into my house based on a stupid woman's fears?"

  Anger covered Corey's face and he stepped forward. "My wife isn't stupid, you piece of—"

  "All women are stupid, and so are you if you haven't figured that out." Dean pulled Lydia closer to him.

  "You are something else," Corey said. "Why don't you let go of Lydia and we can talk about whatever you two are disagreeing about?"

  "I have a better idea," Dean said. He pulled out his knife and held it to Lydia's throat.

  She gasped, trying not to move. It wouldn't take much for the knife to dig into her skin from the way it pressed against her. Lydia stared at Corey, begging him with her eyes to do something to help.

  "Easy," Corey said, putting a hand up. "That's not necessary."

  "How about you leave my house? Now." Dean put more pressure on the knife, cutting ever so slightly into Lydia's skin again.

  Corey lowered the bat. "Not while you have a knife to Lydia's throat. That's not cool, dude. You drop the knife and I'll drop the bat. Sound like a good deal?"

  Dean laughed. "How about you leave us alone, and I don't call the cops?"

  "When you're threatening your wife's life? I don't think so. We both know who the cops would side with."

  "Just get out of here! This doesn't concern you, Corey. You're always butting in where you don't belong."

  Sirens sounded outside, the noise echoing off the hardwood floors from the open window in Dean's office.

  Dean let out a string of profanities. "Did you call the cops?" he asked Corey, loosening his grip on Lydia slightly.

  "No," Corey said, "I didn't. Bri might have, though. So, you really should consider letting Lydia go, especially with the blood dripping down onto her shirt."

  "What?" Dean exclaimed. He let go and turned Lydia around. "There's no blood dripping—"

  Lydia pulled away and ran for Corey. She stood behind him and he put the baseball bat out toward Dean. "Don't come near us."

  Dean slid his hand down toward his gun, keeping his hand there.

  There was a loud knock on the door. "Police!"

  Fear covered Dean's face. He was trapped between a laundry room with no outside doors or windows and Corey and Lydia. "Move, Corey. Get out of my way before I have to hurt you."

  The police pounded on the door again. "Open up, or we'll be forced to break down the door."

  Lydia screamed as loudly as she could.

  With that, she heard the sounds of the door being broken down. Footsteps thundered. It sounded like an army. She could hear them scouring the front of the house.

  "Over here!" Lydia yelled.

  Dean pulled out his gun and aimed it at Corey and her.

  Corey turned around and threw himself on top of Lydia, sending them both onto the ground.

  A shot rang out, echoing so loud that it hurt Lydia's ears.

  "Stay down," Corey told her.

  Not that she could go anywhere with his weight on her.

  Footsteps approached, and Lydia saw eight feet around her.

  "Put the gun down."

  "You can't take me," Dean said.

  Another shot sounded, but Lydia couldn't tell if it came from the officers or Dean. No one fell to the ground, much to her relief. But before she could look around, yet another one rang out and Dean fell to the ground, swearing.

  Lydia cried out in surprise and fear. She looked over at him to see that he clutched his leg and blood pooled on the floor. He picked the gun up from where it fell and he aimed it at the officers, cussing them out.

  "Put th
e gun down or we shoot you in the heart next time."

  "You won't take me that easily. I'm already down—you won't shoot."

  "Shut up," Lydia whispered.

  Dean turned the weapon to Lydia. "I'll shoot her!"

  "Drop the weapon." An officer stepped forward. He aimed his gun at Dean's head.

  "No."

  A gunshot sounded.

  It took Lydia a moment to realize it came from the cops.

  The bullet barely missed Dean.

  He dropped his gun to the floor.

  It was over.

  Boxed

  Lydia shoved the last box into the moving truck. Tom stepped beside her and closed the door, locking it. Lydia turned to her friends. "Thanks so much for helping."

  "Are you sure you won't come to the hospital with us?" Savannah asked.

  Lydia shook her head. "I can't look at Cara, and especially not the baby."

  Bri bumped Lydia playfully. "I hear she looks like an Ewok."

  "Be nice," Corey said, winking at Bri. He turned to Lydia. "Cara feels really bad about everything that happened."

  "Yeah," Bri said, "but Lydia has every right to hate her."

  "I don't hate her," Lydia said, feeling defensive. "I just can't look at her or Dean's… the baby."

  "Nobody could blame you for that," Savannah said.

  Tom checked the back door of the truck, and then turned to Lydia. "Are you sure you don't want Corey and me to follow you? You're going to need help unpacking."

  Lydia's cheeks warmed. "I do have help, but thanks."

  Bri raised an eyebrow. "Why do you look embarrassed, sweetie?"

  "I just have help, that's all."

  "Is it Toby?" Savannah asked.

  "Wait," Bri said. "Is he the new mystery guy?"

  Lydia looked away. "Maybe. I didn't want to say anything until I knew it was serious."

  Savannah took her hand. "He's helping you unpack. I'd say it sounds fairly serious."

  "Okay, okay," Lydia admitted. "We've been seeing a lot of each other. He doesn't mind our age difference or the fact that my ex is in prison for life for nearly a dozen murders."

  "At least you're not the one in prison," Corey joked.

  "Oh, babe." Bri gave him a shove. "Stop."

  "Who would've thought he was using his job as cover for murdering people?" Savannah asked, shaking her head. "And we all thought it was just affairs."