Fatal Response Read online

  Erin almost smiled, but the pain of past dreams snuffed out the warm emotion quickly. Now she cooked, cleaned the bathroom, mowed the grass...

  But not today, because of Jason.

  No matter their past history, he didn’t deserve the kind of treatment one of the nurses had told her about. Erin had tried to tell her father his outburst was out of line, but every time she’d mentioned Jason, the heart rate monitor had responded. Erin had given up.

  This was why she’d never told him about her marriage. It would have killed him.

  From the passenger seat, her father muttered a couple of oaths under his breath. She barely caught the words “Wyatt’s good for one thing at least” and a couple more curses.

  Best to let him believe it was her cousin who’d done the work, although the wonder of it still twisted in her head. “Dad, Wyatt’s not even your nephew but he’s always been good to—”

  “Wyatt was spoiled rotten by your mama’s brother and he still acts like the world owes him, way he wears that badge like it gives him some kind of edge over the rest of us. Wasn’t for Wyatt, you never would have gotten tangled up with the Barnes kid in the first place. Least Wyatt knows how to respect his elders and take care of ’em when they’re having trouble. The Barnes boy? Even his own mama was smart enough to get out before he could disappoint her.”

  So much venom. “That was a low blow.”

  Her father’s head jerked back. He was probably about six seconds from losing his temper. “You gonna defend him? Really? He took my pride and joy, and he drove it down an embankment and totaled it. I worked on that car for a decade and he destroyed it. Besides, I don’t see him around here doing nothing for either of us, even though he walked into my house after the wreck and tried to tell me how much he loved you. I saved you a whole lot of trouble by running that one off.” He shoved open the door and eased to the ground. “Now come on. I’m starving.” The Bronco rocked as he slammed the door.

  Erin watched him shuffle away, anger and rejection at war in her gut. She kneaded the steering wheel with tight fingers, the urge to unleash her fury on her father a physical pressure in her chest. He really thought he’d done something good? Her father was the whole reason she’d broken Jason’s heart and her own.

  She sank into the seat. And she could never tell him. He’d been so agitated after seeing Jason at the hospital, the doctors had resorted to medication to bring his blood pressure back into line. She couldn’t risk riling him into another stroke.

  Having Jason around the house wasn’t the best idea. With a longing look at the front door and a deep ache for her pillow, Erin finally turned toward the barn. She could walk away or she could go through the door and thank Jason for what he’d done. What he’d sacrificed.

  For her.

  But to do so would change everything.

  SEVEN

  Jason tightened the oil cap and rocked back on his heels, staring at the red riding mower he’d spent more than half of the previous day on. He hadn’t voluntarily mowed grass in...

  Well, ever.

  Before his parents left, the yard was his job and he’d hated it. Hated the way his dad would lock him out of the house until the job was done. Or pack up his mom and leave. There had been more than a few nights he’d slept on the porch when they didn’t come back.

  He’d vowed never to push a mower again.

  The army had different ideas, though. Jason smirked. He’d learned quick how to stay out of the kind of trouble that earned extra duty, or how to talk his way into any other job than walking behind a mower in the company area.

  He’d sat in the seat of the riding mower for a good five minutes yesterday, wondering what he was doing here, why he even cared if Kevin Taylor’s grass was cut. He had no obligation to the man or to Erin during the time Wyatt had one of his buddies standing watch at the hospital.

  But when he’d realized that nothing had changed in the Taylor household, Jason couldn’t let Erin carry the burden, especially when she had to be in pain from the attack in the stairwell. She had enough on her plate, and Jason himself had dropped a whole bunch of rotten right into her lap. If he couldn’t be at the hospital for fear of making things even worse with Erin, he could at least do this for her. He would help her from a distance, even if it was the one thing on earth he hated most.

  He’d assumed the job would be torture, but after the first few minutes he’d eased into the job. With two officers watching Erin at the hospital, he’d been able to shift his focus. His thoughts had eased into a mindless back-and-forth rhythm, and he admitted a riding mower was a whole lot different from a push mower.

  With his brain free, he’d run through every mission the team had been on during their last disastrous deployment... Cataloged who they’d taken out... Where the cells might be active now... Who might have the strongest motives for revenge...

  And who could possibly have the access needed to find their wives and to wreak this kind of pain and havoc.

  The list was long.

  Every time his phone buzzed, he tensed, braced for the next blow. A few of the guys had used their leave to take their families to parts unknown. Others had armed themselves for defense.

  Despite two days of quiet after Erin’s attack, his gut said this wasn’t over. The text on Angie’s phone wasn’t for fun. Someone had aimed an arrow straight at Erin, and the bold move at the hospital said they wouldn’t leave it hanging there without letting it fly. She was still in some unseen enemy’s crosshairs.

  The back door to the barn creaked open, and Jason came to his feet, ready to fight anyone who thought they could sneak up on him. He might be armed with a socket wrench, but he knew how to use it.

  The intruder he spotted might be more dangerous to his heart than his life.

  Erin shut the door and stood hesitantly near the entrance, watching Jason with an expression he couldn’t read. It could be fear...or uncertainty.

  Definitely not the anger he’d expected. He tossed the wrench into the toolbox and wiped his hands on a rag he had found in the corner of a dusty workbench. “You’re home early.”

  “Not early enough.”

  Clearly. She looked exhausted. Jason didn’t doubt her father had run her ragged the past couple of days. “How’s your dad?”

  “Better. They treated him for botulism.”

  “Botulism’s a strange one. Where would he get canned food that had gone bad?”

  “I don’t know. Considering we eat the same things, it’s even weirder, but I’m too tired to figure it out now. My brain is mush.” She shoved her hands through her hair, then pulled her ponytail tighter. “I just came out here because, well... I saw the yard.” She walked closer and stopped on the other side of the mower, her gaze on the cracked vinyl seat. “And then I saw your truck.” She caught his eye, then looked down again, a hefty dose of amusement sparkling in her expression. “You used a lawn mower. That’s...big.”

  “Yeah, well, it started as me helping Wyatt with it. Then he went back to work and...” The smile caught Jason off guard. The warmth in her eyes was something he hadn’t seen in years and had never expected to see again. This was one of the things he’d fallen in love with, the way everything about her changed when she laughed. Joy made her a thousand times more beautiful than she already was.

  It eased under his skin with a fire he shouldn’t feel about the woman who’d already made infinitely clear he was never allowed back into her life.

  Their history wasn’t important anyway, other than the fact that it was the very thing that had put Erin in jeopardy today. He had to remember that. “We need to talk about what happened at the hospital.”

  The welcoming smile she’d held only a few seconds earlier hardened into an unreadable expression. “Thanks for taking care of the yard, but I think it’s best if you leave before Dad figures out you’re here. I don’t need to put him
right back into the ER.” She turned to walk away, her shoulders stiff and her back straight.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Yes, you definitely are.”

  “I saw the footage from the security camera.”

  Erin’s steps stuttered, and she stopped, though she didn’t turn back to him. “What footage?”

  “From when you were attacked in the stairwell.” Wyatt had let him sit in on the viewing, and it had left Jason with a cold terror in the pit of his stomach. The proof was right there, irrefutable. He’d wanted to keep the worst of it from Erin if possible, but her stubborn refusal to let him help made full disclosure a necessity. “You were a definite target.”

  Her shoulders rose and fell as she breathed deeply. Then she slowly faced him. “Tell me. All of it.”

  Jason wanted to close the space between them and take her hand, touch her shoulder, something to reassure her, but he couldn’t. That wasn’t his place, which meant there was no way to soften the blow. He might as well be blunt. “Shortly after you and I walked into the ER, someone else came in. He wore a hoodie, kept his face away from the cameras, took a seat in the waiting room and didn’t move until you and I went into the other room. He changed seats to watch us, then followed you when you headed upstairs. Never once did the camera get a face shot. And the baggy shirt, the baggy jeans, the slouch in the walk... Wyatt believes it was on purpose, all designed to keep us from guessing at height, weight, anything at all. Whether or not the intention was for your dad to get sick is up in the air, but from the second you walked into the hospital, you were on radar. And the only way to know where you were was to be following you. Whoever it is has been watching the house, Erin.” She had to see that, to understand why he couldn’t simply pull up stakes, go back to his apartment and let either one of them live under the illusion that she was safe in her own home.

  She wasn’t.

  Although her face had grown increasingly pale as he’d told her the truth he’d hated to speak, Erin’s expression hadn’t changed. She took in the information and scanned the exposed rafters above Jason’s head, seeming to process the facts from a distance. Finally, she swallowed so hard he could see it. “You can’t sleep in your truck.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.” He’d caught rack time wherever he could overseas, not only in vehicles but under them as well when that was the only shade.

  “Dad never comes out here. If you insist on doing this, you can stay in the loft upstairs. The water’s still on. Just keep the light off in case he looks out the window.”

  The loft.

  Jason could see that room as clearly as if he’d just walked out of it two seconds ago. Filled with light from windows on both ends of the barn, the arched ceiling was airy and the space was perfect for the easel she’d set by the west window to look away over rolling hills and mountain valleys. It had been her refuge, the place she’d run to paint her troubles away.

  The place Jason had known the most peace. Where he’d spent hours sprawled on an old futon trying to study in high school. Too often, he’d set his books aside to watch her paint instead.

  She was the reason for his D in chemistry.

  He couldn’t sleep up there. It held too many memories. “I’ll be fine in the truck. Trust me.”

  She shrugged and turned to leave. “Suit yourself.”

  “You still painting?” Jason winced as soon as the words hit the air. He was delving into the personal too fast. She’d never stand for it.

  Erin stopped so fast it was as though a chain had jerked her backward. Her head tilted toward the ceiling, where the room above their heads rested.

  “I haven’t been up there in years.” Without turning back, she walked out the door and shut it behind her, severing the fragile connection between them.

  Jason banged his palm on the hood of the lawn mower and bit back words he shouldn’t even think, let alone say. That was stupid. Incredibly, unbelievably stupid. Of all the topics of conversation in the world, why pick the one that circled straight back around to their past?

  “Idiot.” Swiping the rag from the seat, he bent, grabbed the toolbox at his feet and headed for the bench to store it where he’d found it. Best thing he could do was watch Erin from a distance and save both of them a hefty dose of grief.

  * * *

  A deep rumble worked its way into the room, like a low-flying plane or a distant boat motor.

  The timbre of her father’s snores from the den said he’d collapsed in his ever-faithful recliner to catch up on the sleep he hadn’t gotten in the hospital.

  With him resting, maybe Erin could get to sleep herself. She’d been lying on her bed for almost an hour, trying in vain to slip into sweet nothingness.

  Seeing bloody gravel and blank eyes every time she closed her eyes.

  Feeling the ache in her shoulder and neck every time she moved. Twice, she’d almost been asleep and jerked awake at the sensation of falling down the stairs again.

  Sitting up, Erin stared at the window, where cloud-dimmed afternoon light leaked through the gauzy curtains. Watery sunlight fell across the windowsill and puddled on the bright yellow quilt.

  Usually, she loved the soft glow of afternoon, but not today. Exhaustion had taken over, leaving her bone dead in a way she couldn’t remember since those sleepless nights after the judge signed off on her divorce.

  Piled on top of violent figures, snakes and murder, Jason’s return kept her mind spinning. He resurrected memories she’d once dumped in a grave and covered.

  Yeah. Sleep wasn’t coming anytime soon. Leaning across the bed, Erin pulled back the curtains and stared at the upstairs window of the barn.

  Behind the window lay the Erin she used to be, the one she’d shut the door on when her father’s care became her penance, the one who’d vanished when Jason did, packed away in his rucksack with his dirty socks.

  She leaned her forehead against the cool window. It was probably a giant dirt factory now, with dust bunnies running amok and cobwebs coating her last unfinished painting, an old farmhouse on Campground Road she’d daydreamed about owning. Jason had teased her about the old house and the work it would take to make it livable, but she’d never been able to let it go. There was something about the weathered old siding and the tin roof. They drew her in. The porch wrapped entirely around the house spoke of rocking chairs and lazy Sunday afternoons. When their marriage died, she’d been painting it in the glory of her imagination, the work moving slowly because she was either fighting with Jason and too tense to paint or was distracted by his presence.

  In the end, she’d found herself staring at the image of a half-finished house as she slowly came to the realization it would never be what her dreams wanted it to be.

  Nothing ever would.

  She’d shut the door the first day she’d spoken to the divorce attorney and had never bothered to open it again.

  Had tried not to think about it. Had succeeded for years.

  Until today, when Jason had mentioned her painting.

  So he still thought about the good times too. They had grown fewer and farther between with each passing month. Those were the times she still vividly dreamed about...then awoke disoriented and sad all over again.

  Yeah, she didn’t need those dreams anymore. They could stop anytime.

  She let herself search the small wooded area on the far side of the field where he’d hidden his truck out of sight from the house but where he could see everything. He was too close, and at the same time, too far away.

  Rapping her knuckle on the window ledge, Erin started to let the curtain drop into place, but something at the far side of the barn flashed in the dying afternoon light. She tilted her head and waited, angling until the light hit just right...

  A dark figure slipped along the barn, keeping to the long, dim shadows of early evening.

  Adr
enaline hit Erin in the chest and she reached for her phone, Jason’s warnings pinging an alarm. She’d dismissed them initially, but with the attack at the hospital seeming to be all about her and her mind too tired to think rationally, the idea that terrorists were stalking her wasn’t so far-fetched.

  Erin grabbed her phone and gripped it until her fingers turned white. Jason was only a few hundred feet away, but calling him felt like giving up somehow.

  Pride wouldn’t do her any good if she and her father were dead, though.

  Tapping the screen, Erin scrolled through the numbers, her finger hovering over the one Jason had programmed in at the hospital and Erin had vowed she’d never use. The darkening landscape and the hulk of a person who’d disappeared from her view drove her thumb against the screen.

  He answered on the first ring. “Are you okay?”

  The sound of Jason’s voice shouldn’t make her feel better. It shouldn’t instantly douse the fear flaming in her gut.

  But it did.

  Maybe she’d fallen asleep after all, because this was definitely a dream.

  “Erin?” His voice pitched into concern. “Say something or I’m coming in no matter what your father might say or do.”

  Out of the question. “I’m okay. It’s...” Stupid. She was tired, high-strung and emotional...or losing her mind. Nothing moved outside her window now. Maybe she’d imagined it. “It’s nothing.” Hunting season was in full swing. Could be somebody her dad had let use the land. Could be the power company trying to read the meter. She was overreacting, and calling Jason to rescue her was the proof.

  She’d never felt so ridiculous in her whole life, not even the time she’d blended the Pledge of Allegiance with the Lord’s Prayer on student leadership Sunday at church. “Never mind.”

  “We both know you wouldn’t call me without a good reason.”

  He had her there. There would be no just calling to hear your voice between them ever again. “It’s just... I thought I saw somebody outside.”