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Authors: B. A. Shapiro

BOOK: Blameless
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“James,” Diana began, gently pulling her hand from his, filled with such conflicted emotions that she wasn’t sure she could speak. For despite her clear understanding of who—and what—he really was, she still felt such tenderness, such empathy, for him. Diana brushed the hair back from his forehead and sighed. “That day in my office was a terrible mistake. Probably the worst mistake I’ve ever made in my life. It’s—”

“You can’t deny us that day,” he said. “I won’t let you. We’re not children, Diana. You and I both know magnetism like ours happens once in a lifetime—if you’re lucky.”

“It’s over,” Diana said, choosing her words carefully. What he was saying was true. All too true. She had never felt anything like the powerful magic of that afternoon. She had been bewitched by him, drawn and pulled beyond her power, or her desire, to resist. She had never been so encompassed by passion. Never felt so masterful. So alive. “It will never happen again,” she said, her voice low with sadness for everything that couldn’t be. “Never.”

“Come with me now,” he begged. “It
can
happen again. Now is our chance.”

“It’s impossible, James. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But the baby. I figured it out. The timing—”

She shook her head. “I found out the next week that I was already pregnant.”

“I planned how this would happen,” he said calmly. “I worked it all out in my mind. Over and over. I’ve been controlled all my life and now I’m in control. I’m not going to let my plan fail.” His eyes burned into Diana’s, and again his depravity showed through.

“James,” she said softly, trying to distract him so she could grab the gun at her knee.

But he saw her eyes flicker downward and seized the gun before she could. He jumped up and backed toward the door, pointing it directly at her. “You’re coming with me,” he ordered, his quiet voice much more terrifying than if he had been screaming. “Right now.”

“James,” Diana said, trying to sound calm, “it’s no use. It’s over.”

“Not if I kill us both, it’s not,” he said, his eyes glazed. “If I kill us both, we’ll be together always.”

Unable to speak, unable to move, Diana felt time once again stall. James loomed enormous and hulking, growing thicker and wider, grotesque and terrifying. The ambient light glinted off the shiny gun barrel. James could very well do what he threatened. He had killed before, and she knew that to his deranged mind, his solution was all too plausible. She stared at the gun in horror, scrambling frantically for the response that would save her life and the life of her child. But she found only blankness. “The baby,” she finally sputtered. “You can’t kill our child.”

His eyes narrowed, and his handsome face became shrewd, the planes of his cheekbones shading to evil. “You said it was Craig’s.”

“I lied,” Diana lied. “You figured out the dates. You know the truth.”

He stood with the gun pointed at her belly for a long moment. “I don’t believe you,” he finally said.

“But what if you’re wrong?”

They remained that way for what felt like an eternity: James with the gun to her stomach, Diana still. To lose all she had just regained was more than Diana could bear. To lose it all once again because of her weakness that one afternoon—because of her obsession with James Hutchins. She knew she deserved punishment for her wrongdoing. But her baby didn’t. And neither did Craig. Diana didn’t move a muscle. She held her breath and kept her eyes locked on James’s, pleading sincerity, pleading for a chance to live.

Then James broke the eye contact and stared over Diana’s head at someplace far away. After another eternity he slowly lifted the gun with robotlike jerks of his hand. He placed the muzzle to his temple. “One word and I won’t pull the trigger.”

Diana gasped, her eyes glued to his. She clearly felt his sincerity, his need, his love—no less real for its debauched nature. And she also saw the hopeless depths of his insanity.
You’ve got to let go of him—and of your need to cure everyone …

“One word,” he begged. “Just tell me that you want me to live.”

And Diana knew in that moment that she could not take responsibility for his life. That she could not save him. She closed her eyes, tears running down her cheeks. She wanted to open them. She wanted to scream out for him to stop. For him to save himself. That she would try to help him again. But she did not.

“Diana, please …”

She kept her eyes closed, kept her silence, until a powerful explosion shattered the stillness. Then Diana began to scream. And it seemed to her that she would scream forever.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book could never have been written without the support of my family, friends and colleagues. I owe each of you much: my writers’ group, Diane Bonavist, Jan Brogan, Floyd Kemske, Rachel Plummer and Donna Baier Stein; my experts and reviewers, Michael Bogdanow, Laurie Bernstein, John Conklin, Dan Fleishman, Norman Shapiro, Kelly Tate, and especially Phyllis Kaplan-Silverman whose input was instrumental from initial story conception to final review; my agent, Nancy Yost; my children, Robin and Scott Fleishman whose interest in my work is a joy to me.

And finally, to my editor, Ellen Edwards, who drove me crazy on this project from day one, my deepest gratitude.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1995 by B.A. Shapiro

978-1-5040-1101-3

This edition published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

345 Hudson Street

New York, NY 10014

www.openroadmedia.com

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