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“I did those things because I wanted you to turn to me for help. Instead, you turned to Carter!” He spits out Carter’s name as if he tastes vile on his tongue. “The flowers were meant to symbolize the death of your relationship with him!”
“How did you know to make it look like Mark Jenkins? You weren’t there the night Mark’s father died.”
“Oh, but I was there! Just not when you were around. The hospital called the precinct because Mark Jenkins was disturbing the peace. I was the responding officer. When he screamed your name and said he wanted you to pay for your incompetence, I knew I had the perfect scapegoat.”
“Are you telling me Mark Jenkins hasn’t been helping you?” I ask.
“Not at all. When he said he wanted to ‘make you pay,’ he meant in the legal sense of the word. He was a lawyer and plans to sue you and the fire department for negligence. With me by your side, I’ll make sure that never happens! I made him sound delusional in my report, tarnishing his credibility. You’re welcome for that, by the way.”
The audacity!“I suppose I should thank you for nearly killing me by stripping the screws from my bindings, too? Or for the black roses?”
“I thought it was Carter’s snowboard! I never meant to hurt you! Your boards looked similar, and I had to guess. I don’t know the first thing about snowboards, but I have mad skills on a pair of skis. I was ready to rescue you if I had gotten it wrong. But once again, Carter never left your side, and you managed to save yourself.”
“I have one final question. Was Melissa or Joe helping you?”
“Joe doesn’t have a clue, and as far as Melissa goes, I made it sound like I was helping her in exchange for her occupying Carter’s time. But he never fell for her charms like I had hoped.”
“Thank you for your honesty,” I tell him. I hope I got his confession recorded.
I hear the door behind me jingle with bells, the tell-tale sign of someone entering the restaurant. Stella comes over to greet the couple, and I follow Bryce’s narrowed gaze. Patrick and Savannah smile brightly at Stella, ignoring us as they follow her to a booth deeper into the restaurant. I ask Bryce, feigning ignorance, “Do you know them?”
As he continues to stare at the couple, I catch Carter silently moving through the kitchen area, briefly talking to Jack. I divert my gaze outside to avoid drawing Bryce’s attention to the man sneaking up behind him.
When Carter is within ten feet, Bryce hops out of the booth and draws his weapon. Using a weaver stance, he has both hands on the gun, aiming in Patrick’s and Savannah’s direction, not Carter’s like I expected. “I’ve seen you both before, standing outside Leanna’s house! Who are you?” He shouts. Not waiting for an answer, he yells, “Get up! Hands in the air and move slowly!”
Patrick and Savannah comply, keeping their hands raised as they slide out of the booth, Savannah turning to face Bryce. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Surely, you must be mistaken.”
“I never forget a face!”
Savannah smiles, calm and cool as a cat. “Then you must know that wherever we are, Carter isn’t far behind.”
“Where is he?” Bryce screams, his face now red with anger.
“Right behind you,” says Carter.
Bryce swings around to point his gun at Carter, but Carter deflects it by using his left elbow to push Bryce’s arm in an upward trajectory while simultaneously sending a right hook into Bryce’s side. The gun goes off before Bryce drops it, and Stella shrieks in alarm.
Patrick draws out his weapon to point it at the two men fighting while walking over to lock the door to prevent new customers from entering. Savannah darts around the ongoing fight to get Stella and Jack to safety. Thankfully, the diner was empty, with most of the guests at the resort for the gala. I suspect that my abduction is being kept under wraps to prevent widespread panic, and the gala resumed as planned.
I watch in awe as Carter and Bryce look like they’re dancing, trading blows, ducking, and weaving, both light on their feet. Patrick pulls me behind him while we both stare at the spectacle.
I tug on his sleeve. “Aren’t you going to stop this?”
“Eventually.”
Bryce punches Carter’s face, but Carter turns with the blow, minimizing the impact. When Bryce body slams Carter and takes him to the ground, I tug on Patrick’s sleeve again, hoping he’ll step in.
“Your man has it under control, Leanna.” Like Patrick, Savannah is simply watching with her gun trained toward the fight but not doing anything to stop it. If they aren’t worried about it, I suppose I shouldn’t be either.
Carter takes another blow from Bryce but catches the second one coming toward him, twisting their bodies so that he ends up on top. Carter delivers an elbow to Bryce’s jaw before rolling off, scooping up Bryce’s weapon and pointing it to the now unconscious form on the floor.
Within seconds, Patrick and Savannah have Bryce’s arms secured behind his back and his feet bound, waiting for the police to arrive. As soon as the threat is neutralized, Carter rushes toward me to take me in his arms. Without saying a word, his lips crash against mine, and he kisses me like I’m the air he needs to breathe. I can feel his love, passion, and worry with each and every nip.
“I almost lost you,” he says, worry still in his gaze.
“Never, Carter. I’m right here, and all this is finally over.”
“No, Leanna. This is just beginning.”
