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I’d gasped from my hiding place, the fear and the shock and despair leaking through my body like a chemical spill. I still remembered the sound of his voice as he muttered a single word.
“Fuck.”
When he’d pulled aside the curtain, I’d been so sure he was going to kill me, too. Positive he was going to murder me like he’d done my father. But he hadn’t. He’d let me live.
That was his first mistake.
Maybe he’d assumed I’d be so traumatized by the situation that I wouldn’t remember. Maybe he thought I’d be grateful he hadn’t killed me. Maybe he thought I’d forget his face, his voice, the way he made me feel.
Bad luck for him. I remembered that day with startling clarity. The day he’d turned my family upside down. Come to think of it, I needed to have a slogan for when I saw him again. Like inThePrincess Bride.
“My name is Diana Vandergraff. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” I wasn’t the villain here, so I wasn’t going to have some long, drawn-out bragging speech. But he would know. I’d make sure he understood the series of events that had led to his world crumbling.
Iwantedhim to know.
Before I got revenge, I’d get the answers I’d been searching for my whole life. My father hadn’t been particularly affectionate or demonstrative, but he’d always been gentle with me. I couldn’t imagine any reason that he would be murdered other than for his money. Even as sheltered as I’d been, I had seen how people treated us all because of our wealth.
There were quite a few men who had approached my brothers about me simply because I’d inherited such a large trust fund. Men whom I’d had only brief conversations with were suddenly ardent admirers once they found out I was the Vandergraff heiress.
Well, I was an heiress no more. Hell, I didn’t even recognize that version of myself, the one who represented my family at society functions, wearing a ball gown and an insipid smile.
That girl was soft. That girl was vulnerable. The moment I was out of school, the only identity I knew was avenging angel.
I rubbed my hands up and down my arms when I reached the outcropping. The man I was targeting was a killer and a criminal. He had this coming. To do what I had to do, I couldn’t be Diana Vandergraff.
I needed to be Diana Renquist.
CHAPTERTHREE
Rafe
I took the same underground pass as usual, then went through a series of checkpoints that led to the exit. From there, I deliberately took over an hour to get home. Just to make sure I wasn’t tailed. Before I’d ‘come back from the dead,’ I’d been stationed in Philly. But after my miraculous resurrection, I’d moved back to New York to be closer to Lulu.
And somehow ended up with more family than I’d had in six long years. Granted, they might not all think of me as family. You try to kill some guys one time… and they held it against you.
I knew the drill. To most of the world, Rafe DeMarco was dead. If I didn’t want to resurrect that ghost just yet, I still had to be careful. If the Vandergraffs were kicking up a fuss again, my old life might be coming back to haunt me.
On McMillan, the winding two-lane road I often used as an alternate route home, I saw taillights glowing in a ravine and frowned.
What the hell?
I liked this route. It was an old access road that let me bypass the freeway. Technically it was only meant for government and Parks and Recreation access, but Noah had ways of bypassing pesky access rules.
The weather hadn’t given way to spring yet, and as there weren’t very many streetlights, the road was often dark and desolate. And with the added benefit of the rain that had started an hour ago, it was eerie.
I reached the embankment where the light shone brightest and stopped the car. Fuck balls, someone had gone over.
“Hello? Is anyone down there?”
There was a faint rustling, and I strained to hear better. Then I heard what I was looking for.
“Help.”
Shit. “Are you hurt?”
I couldn’t see a fucking thing thanks to the rain. Well, other than the steam rising up from somewhere down off the embankment. All I heard was that voice.
“I’m hurt, but I can walk. I climbed out of the car.”
