He spun around, narrowly missing the knife Ambrose tried to stab him with. Eyes wide, Orsen stared at it, then Ambrose. “Time I got rid of you. You’ve been nothing but trouble for me. I’ll bury you with the bitch that birthed you.” Orsen screamed and dove to the side, the blade slicing across his cheek. The blood ran down his face, and he knew he had no choice. He had to defend himself, because Ambrose wanted him dead.
Ambrose came at him again and he kicked out, catching Ambrose on the knee and knocking him away. He crawled to the front door that still stood open, but heard a cry filled with such rage that he glanced over his shoulder. That saved his life.
Ambrose had the knife high in the air, aimed at Orsen's back. Orsen rolled out of the way, his breathing as erratic as his heartbeat, and kicked out again, hoping to stop Ambrose. Ambrose screamed, slashing at Orsen and becoming more enraged every time he missed. “Fucking bastard!”
“Please…stop…please…” Orsen cried. Tears streamed down his face, and he grabbed Ambrose’s wrist when Ambrose almost fell on top of him. Ambrose bellowed at him, putting both hands on the handle and trying to push it closer to Orsen’s face. He somehow knocked the knife of course, and it slammed into his left shoulder. He screamed out in pain as Ambrose laughed and tried to pull the knife free.
Orsen took a chance and kicked up, hitting Ambrose in the nuts. He gritted his teeth as he wrenched the knife out of his shoulder. Ambrose screamed again and threw himself at Orsen. Orsen raised the knife, then grunted when Ambrose landed on top of him. Time seemed to stop. There was no sound at all, as if everything had gone still. Ambrose’s eyes widened, blood spilling from his mouth. “You fucking bitch,” Ambrose screamed.
Orsen pushed at Ambrose, who blinked and muttered, “I’m going to tear you apart…I’m going to…I’m going…you’re…”
Ambrose sagged on Orsen, his eyes open. Orsen tried to breathe, but he couldn’t get any air in his lungs, and he pushed Ambrose off, taking a shaky breath. Ambrose rolled to the side and stayed there, his body crumpled where it landed. Orsen watched him in case he came at him again. His body tensed, waiting. Only he didn’t. Ambrose didn’t move at all. Orsen sucked air into his lungs, his body trembling, and he reached out a hand and touched Ambrose, then snatched it back. When Ambrose didn’t respond or blink, his eyes open and staring, Orsen saw the knife sticking out of Ambrose’s chest.
“Oh fuck…oh God…”
He rolled away, vomiting, the image of Ambrose stuck in his mind. He’d killed him. Orsen had killed his father. He needed to tell someone, but they had no phone. The closest place… Crompton’s.
Somehow Orsen managed to get onto his feet and stumble to the door. He stopped and stared at Ambrose, then ran. He ran and ran until he stood pounding on Crompton’s front door.
“Stop making that bastard noise! I’m coming.”
The door opened and Orsen fell into Crompton’s arms. “I killed him. I killed him,” he repeated over and over again. At some point, Orsen looked up and saw Sheriff Redding kneeling in front of him. Then came white lights flashing overhead, low murmurs, and finally a black tunnel as everything disappeared.
***
When he opened his eyes, the pain hit, then he remembered. “What have I done?”
“Here. You need to take these tablets for the pain. It’ll only get worse.” Orsen stared up into a young man’s face. He knew him, but he didn’t at the same time. Black hair fell over his forehead, and blue eyes met Orsen’s. A kind smile rested on his face.
He took the tablets and tried to swallow. The rawness in his throat made it feel like he’d swallowed glass, but he managed to get them down with water from the cup the man held for him. “Thanks.” Glancing around the room, he realized he lay in the hospital, but couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there.
“How?” he asked softly, his voice rusty, his throat sore.
“They brought you in last night. I’m Cody.”
Orsen glanced at him, then quickly away. “I’ve seen you around town.”
Cody nodded. “TJ will be here soon. You can talk to him about what happened.”
Orsen’s chest tightened, and he couldn’t breathe. “He tried to…he tried…”
Cody stood and held him. “It’s okay, Orsen. I’ve got you. You’re not alone now.”
Those softly words spoken opened the floodgates and Orsen cried. He cried so much but Cody never let go. He held him and rubbed his back, whispering, “You’re not alone now, Orsen. We have you.”
Chapter Two
Santino Conti walked down Main Street and entered the grocery store. Grabbing a basket, he waved at Siobhan Mohan and walked down the aisle until he found what he’d been looking for. Pasta. Not as good as the kind he made from scratch, but he’d been busy organizing his home after the move, setting his business up, meeting the people of Robinson, and traveling back and forth from the city. After six months, he finally felt like he’d settled, and he needed to get back to cooking his own food from scratch, just not that day.
Hae’d met Sheriff TJ Redding on an embezzlement case involving a former council member and a resident, which had had some minor complications, he’d decided to move to Robinson after hearing many stories from TJ about the town. As the forensic accountant assigned to the case—for the defense—he’d gone over all the evidence and had passed on what he’d discovered. For him, it had been cut and dry. Cass Paarman and Angelo Ricci were clearly guilty, and even though he’d beenhired to help defend them, he’d hoped a jury would see what he had. The jury had indeed found them guilty.
Some cases were like that. He’d be called in to defend someone, see the evidence, and know they were guilty. Sometimes the defendant’s lawyer would bring someone else to give the jury a complicated version of the truth. A few times Santino had been called as a hostile witness for the prosecution. In reality, he wasn’t, but since he’d been hired for the defense…
“Santino.”
Santino turned around and smiled when he saw TJ. He genuinely liked TJ and his partner, Cody. When he’d first met them, he’d noticed the age gap, but after spending time with them, he saw how they clicked, how perfect they were together. He knew Cody had gone through some shit when he’d been younger, but he’d never pried. If Cody wanted him to know, then Cody would tell him. All Santino knew was that he wanted what they had. That closeness, that connection.
At thirty-one, Santino felt tired of the chasing and dating and clubbing, and he wanted a man to come home to. Someone who didn’t mind spending cozy nights in, watching movies or reading. The club life had been fun while it lasted. The quick hookups, and occasional fucks, but he’d grown past that. Now he wanted what he saw TJ and Cody had. A home built on love and trust and obvious respect.
