Read Conard County Marine Online

Authors: Rachel Lee

Conard County Marine (5 page)

He hated to fail. He was a winner by nature; he expected everything to work out the way he wanted, including this.

But he’d messed up, and he was pretty disgusted with himself. Utterly disgusted. A great big failure.

Maybe he’d settled the score, but he hadn’t settled himself. He’d gotten an F on the ultimate test and it chafed him constantly.

He had to find a way to remedy this. Even if she never remembered him, he still needed to finish it. And the longer he waited, the more likely it was that she’d remember something.

He didn’t know what upset him more sometimes, failing to kill her or fear that she might remember him.

But there was one way to settle it all. He just needed to figure out how.

Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to savor the minutes when he’d tried to take her life, running them like a movie through his head. It felt like a power surge, unequaled by anything in his life. He could do it. He could do anything when he put his mind to it, and killing the woman whose rejection haunted him, and whose memory might snare him, seemed like something he needed to put his mind to.

Kylie might be a slipup, but that was temporary. He could do it.

 

Chapter 4

T
he hardest part of the next few days for Kylie was when Glenda came home from her shift at seven in the morning and a short while later Coop would leave to visit Connie and her family. Yes, Glenda was in the house, but she still felt horribly alone.

But Coop...he’d kept her company every night while she’d slept, and for the first time she began to feel she was catching up with herself. She no longer felt as exhausted.

Her loss of memory haunted her, riding her like a monkey on her shoulder. The problem was, every time she fought to regain any part of her life in Denver, a violent headache came on, as if her brain were warning her away from that area.

How was she supposed to get on with anything with a gaping hole in her memory? With a memory she simply couldn’t trust? Hell, a memory no one could trust enough to leave her alone with a patient’s care.

More had been stolen from her than her sense of safety. She’d lost the job she loved and might never get it back. That hurt as much as the rest of it.

Glenda awoke from her sleep in the late afternoon, refreshed and ready for another shift, or a night off depending. She always came down the stairs energetic and smiling, and seemed determined to keep things light and even for Kylie. They cooked dinner together. Glenda even coaxed her out to the grocery, which managed to turn into an overwhelming experience for Kylie. She saw familiar faces everywhere, but everyone wanted to stop and speak to her, to ask how she was doing.

She finally reached the point where she wanted to scream, “Just leave me alone!”

She knew they were just being kind and concerned, but when she’d agreed to Glenda’s notion that being among familiar surroundings might make life easier for her, she hadn’t planned on the dozens, if not hundreds, of people around here who would feel obligated to express concern.

“I guess we won’t do that again for a while,” Glenda said as they drove home. “I’m sorry, I never thought about how people would bug you.”

Kylie, her hands knotted on her lap, turned toward her. “Was it that obvious? I hope I wasn’t rude.”

Glenda shook her head. “No, but I could feel how tense you were getting. So I’m sorry. We need to go places where we’re not apt to run into half the town until you feel comfortable again.”

“What I don’t get,” Kylie admitted, “is why I feel uncomfortable to begin with.” This was home. She knew these people. She ought to feel comfortably wrapped in all this concern, not annoyed or scared by it.

“I admit I’m surprised,” Glenda answered. “It seemed like such a good idea in Denver. I guess your fears came with you, and there I was thinking we could leave them behind.”

That bothered Kylie even more. She knew she was afraid all the time, but Glenda was right. Shouldn’t she feel safer here?

But the only time she felt safe was at home with Glenda. And with Coop, who somehow made her feel as if he could hold the hordes of hell at bay if necessary.

Crazy thought. The killer was in Denver. He’d done what he wanted. No reason to think he wasn’t hunting someone else by now. No reason to think he gave a fig about where she was or how she was.

No reason at all. But the fear wouldn’t leave, as if it had been branded on her soul. She had to close her eyes and draw a deep breath to prevent a self-pitying tear from leaking out. Would anything ever be the same again?

Coop showed up that afternoon earlier than expected. Kylie felt her heart lighten at the sight of him, and tried to batter down the feeling. Coop was just passing through. It would not be good to become dependent on him for any reason, certainly not her sense of security.

In fact, she told herself sternly, she needed to find that security inside herself somehow, not from without. Recovery would truly begin when she could walk out the front door alone and feel at least reasonably comfortable. Until then she was the prisoner of fears she couldn’t control, perhaps in part because she couldn’t remember them.

Sometimes she wanted to pound her head on something until she shook a memory loose. Crazy urge. Was she growing nuts, as well?

“I got evicted again,” Coop announced. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m here so early.”

Glenda waved him to a seat at the table. “Get comfortable. I’m making a stir-fry and there’s enough for a crowd. Did something happen?”

Coop slid into a chair, a big man who seemed to dwarf everything around him. He smiled. “I guess I need to learn. I was talking about taking the kids to a matinee one day, just sort of generally. Apparently I took the lid off the pressure cooker. They’re now so excited they can’t wait. But it’s not like I can take the words back, or take them tomorrow. School.”

Kylie felt a giggle slip past her lips. “And Connie evicted you? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to let you deal with the excitement?”

He flashed a grin. “There’s something about the way Connie tells them to settle down. She says it works better when I’m not around.” His grin faded. “I love those kids and Connie, but I had no idea I was going to make life more difficult by visiting.”

“I don’t think you have,” Glenda said firmly. “The kids wind up easily because of their age. She’s been working hard, though. The deputies are pulling double shifts. She’s probably just trying to reduce the amount of confusion she has to deal with at any moment. Too many balls in the air. And Ethan’s been putting in long hours at his dad’s ranch, too.”

Glenda brought coffee to the table, leaving bowls of cut vegetables on the counter, the wok still sitting on an unheated burner. “You remember when her daughter was kidnapped?”

“Sophie? Hell, yeah. And I was halfway around the world. I didn’t hear about it until it was over. Why?”

Kylie spoke. “I remember even though Connie is older and I wasn’t in her circle then. My God, I was still in high school, and I was petrified. Deputies everywhere, being warned not to walk alone...and then Sophie vanished. Thank God Ethan was able to track her.”

Coop looked at Glenda again. “Why did you bring that up? Did something happen?”

Glenda hesitated. “Well...the deputies are working overtime because a stranger has been hanging around near the school and he spoke to one of the girls. After what happened to Sophie, do you think Connie is in the best of moods? I think she’s wound up tighter than her kids. It’s not you, Coop.”

He drummed his fingers briefly on the tabletop. “I read you. I guess I didn’t pick the best time to visit.”

Kylie felt sympathy for him. “Like you got to pick your time? I’m sure this wasn’t on anyone’s calendar. Glenda? Is this a big deal?”

“Not yet. They’re kind of keeping a watch on it. The guy could just be passing through and there hasn’t been another incident in three days. But—” she shrugged “—nobody wants to take the chance.”

“And the threat would really hit Connie hard,” Coop offered. “No wonder she’s acting like her plate is too full. I’m just adding to it.”

“Well,” Glenda replied, “spend as much time here as you want. Kylie doesn’t mind.” She eyed her sister.

“I don’t mind at all. Coop’s been helping me sleep.”

The smile he gave her then lit the room. “I’m so glad,” he said quietly. “So very glad.”

He offered to stir-fry under Glenda’s watchful eye, and an hour later they were sitting down to a wonderful meal that exploded with the flavors of ginger and soy sauce.

Conversation hovered around the edges of Glenda’s job, a safe topic, but after they’d finished the dishes, Coop asked a question that almost left Kylie gasping for air.

“Wanna try a stroll with me after dark?”

The formless, shapeless nightmare of terror about things she couldn’t remember slammed in on her then. The room went nearly dark, and as her vision gradually returned she realized she had two very concerned people hovering over her. Glenda kept calling her name. Coop cussed quietly.

“That was dumb,” he said to no one in particular.

But as the world began to settle, as her heart started to slow down and she caught her breath again, she looked straight into the heart of the darkness that stalked her. Was she ever going to face it or was she going to cower forever?

Coop squatted beside her. “I’m sorry,” he said, touching her forearm. His fingertips on her skin almost felt like an electric shock that raced to her core. “Too soon. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She managed to meet his gaze. “You’ve been here.”

He nodded slowly. “I’m still there at times.”

“But you take walks.”

“It’s the only way I know to beat it down. But maybe it’s not the right way for you.”

She drew a long shaky breath. Glenda immediately started to say, “She’s not ready—”

“No,” Kylie interrupted. “I want to try. My God, Glenda, I’ve got to keep trying or you might as well put me in a rubber room for the rest of my days. I won’t be alone.” She turned to Coop again. “If it becomes too much...?”

“I’ll bring you right back. Promise.”

She hesitated a little while, drew a deep breath and gathered herself, clinging to every shred of courage she could find. “I want to try.”

*

Todd had parked just down the street and was astonished to see Kylie come out of the house on Coop’s arm. Man, that guy moved fast.

Kylie wore a light jacket; Coop seemed content with a fleece shirt. Her arm through Coop’s bothered Todd more than anything. And now he’d have to wait until they came back to find out what was going on. After a moment, he decided to follow them at a distance. Maybe this was nothing. Maybe Coop was poaching.

Because for some reason it felt to Todd that he had far more right to Kylie than some guy just passing through town.

But then Kylie had broken it off with him years ago. They’d been just casual friends since. Poaching? He tried to tell himself he was being ridiculous, but the anger wouldn’t subside.

He climbed out of his car and followed. It was as if a cord linked him and Kylie, a cord he could cut only one way.

*

Glenda had clearly been nervous about this walk, but she hadn’t protested. With her arm through Coop’s, tight to his side, Kylie felt his strength like a huge wall around her. He could keep her safe from almost anything, she thought.

“I hadn’t realized how much I missed being out in the dark,” she said.

“Not making you too nervous?”

“A little, but not as bad as I feared.”

He tightened his arm, bringing her more firmly against his side. “Good.”

She took another few steps, then asked, “What’s it like for you?”

“Being out walking in the dark, you mean?” He paused, evidently giving it some thought. “In my job, light conditions are extremely important. Nighttime provides cover, both for me and for the enemy. So I’m cautious about it. But I still like it. That’s why I take so many walks. I guess it’s a kind of immersion therapy. The more I do it, the less nervous I get about it.”

She thought that over, and decided it might be the only way she could handle all these pointless fears. The breeze rustled the spring leaves gently, like the whispering voices of nature. The air smelled fresh and alive. To miss this for the rest of her days? No way.

But they’d barely rounded the second block when she froze in place, her skin crawling.

“Too much?” Coop asked immediately.

She didn’t want to sound crazy but blurted it out, anyway. “Do you ever feel like someone is staring at you?”

“How so?” He faced her now, his face in shadow despite the streetlights.

“I don’t know. It’s just... I keep feeling watched. I thought it was just my nerves, but now I’m not sure. That’s crazy, right? We’re in town. Anyone could be watching.”

She was right about that, but he silenced his other thoughts, nearly every one of them a screen to keep away the memories that so often haunted them, and opened his senses in a way he tried to avoid when he was home. Living on constant alert only made him dangerous to innocent people.

He felt it. Eyes were on them. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t felt it immediately. Turning his head slowly, as if glancing around casually, he tried to see another soul. The street appeared empty. No one stood at any of the lighted windows he could see.

Imagination? Combat experience had taught him never to ignore the feeling. But he wasn’t in combat and he had a woman to reassure.

“I don’t see anyone.”

“I’m probably imagining it, then.”

But he didn’t want her to dismiss such feelings. That could be dangerous, too, even if he didn’t believe her to be facing any real threat right now.

“I never ignore that feeling,” he admitted.

“Are you having it?”

“Just a bit,” he said honestly. “Let’s keep walking and see what happens. It’s probably just someone else out for a walk.”

But her arm tightened around his and he was sure she didn’t quite believe it. Years of experience had taught him not to quite believe it, either, but he kept reminding himself with each step that they were in Conard City, a safe little town, a place where threats didn’t stalk every shadow and corner, unlike too many places he’d been.

She’d brought it back, he realized. All the buried things, all the instincts that had no place here. She felt watched, and as soon as she said it he had wanted to kick himself because he’d been ignoring the same feeling on purpose, telling himself it was nothing to worry about.

But what if it was? That was the devil in the instincts he had learned the hard way. You couldn’t just put them on a shelf and ignore them because you thought you were safe. Safety was never guaranteed, and he knew it.

But he didn’t want Kylie to feel that way. He gathered from his cousin and Glenda that people here spent most of their lives feeling perfectly safe. Kylie hadn’t lived his kind of life, and he wanted her to rediscover the security that was her birthright here.

He just wished he knew how to help it along. He wouldn’t be here forever. He couldn’t watch her every night as she slept, couldn’t take every stroll with her. At some point she would have to be able to retake her life, as if it were a fortress in the hands of invaders.

Already he was regretting his impending departure. Kylie appealed to him in ways few women had. Maybe that was because she shared some of the same feelings he lived with. She understood, sad to say. But she was also an appealing woman, and he seldom looked at her without feeling the stirrings of sexual response.

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