Strings of Fate (Mistresses of Fate) (34 page)

BOOK: Strings of Fate (Mistresses of Fate)
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“You’re amazing,” he blurted, turning suddenly to look at her. “That’s what I’m trying to say. You’re amazing. And knowing that man had you—” He stopped as if he couldn’t continue.

“Don’t think of it.” She caught his hand and held it tight. “It’s over. It’s done.”

She deliberately didn’t glance down. The deep cut on her arm and the ones on her feet were healing, along with her emotional scars, and the girls had called to say that they loved her and that they would be in class as soon as she was better.

Chris hadn’t gone into a great deal of detail about the girls’ role in the death of Joe Sherman, not wanting them to be the subject of any additional scrutiny. She’d merely explained what she understood about Joe’s obsession with strings, and relayed what he’d asked her to do. The FBI called him a psychotic, which was actually fairly uncommon for serial killers, but Chris wasn’t convinced that he was completely crazy. The Triplets certainly hadn’t seemed to think so—but then, they believed in these string-things, believed they were as real as he did. Chris hadn’t felt comfortable telling that to anyone. As far as she was concerned, the girls had a right to their secrets. The idea of the string they’d taken from her head—Summer’s gift—actually made a weird kind of sense to Chris. Summer had been special and her love had stayed with Chris all these years.

Ryan squeezed her fingers in return, holding her in his strong grip. “It’ll never be entirely over, not for me. Besides, I’m sure you’ll find all manner of other trouble to get into in the coming years.” He finished with a half smile and a head shake, as if he could already imagine her escapades.

Chris blinked. Had he just said what she thought he’d said? Years. As in, he would be around for years . . . with her . . . together. She couldn’t help but match his grin.

“So, we’re together?” She bounced a little on the sofa.

He held his arms up in a calm-down gesture, but she threw herself in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He supported her, looking down into her face, his fingers playing in her hair.

“Yeah,” he agreed, and his eyes were a little hot, a little distracted, and trained on her cleavage, which was pushed up nearly under his chin.

“Well, that’s good news. I’d hate to think I spent all day taking down my wall for nothing.”

It took him a second, but he blinked and focused in on her face. “You took down the wall for me?”

“No.” Chris shook her head. “I took it down for me. I moved it to the small office inside the yoga studio until I can find a place with a proper office, but I realized you were right—my whole life was focused on that wall, on those missing, and Summer would never have wanted that for me.” She shrugged. “And I’ve discovered that I don’t want it for myself, or at least, I want more, anyway. I want you.”

His eyes dropped to her cleavage again. “Not to make light of the situation”—he leaned down to nuzzle her—“but speaking of want . . .”

She let out a giggle that ended on a sigh as he pressed a gentle, openmouthed kiss on the inner curve of her right breast.

He stood, adjusting his grip on her so that he was carrying her. “I think I better check out your room for myself,” he said, mock-seriously, “make sure you weren’t making things up.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” she told him, wide-eyed with innocence.

“And since there’s a bed in there—”

“You want to take a nap?”

He grinned. “Maybe afterwards.”

Chris smiled and thought that if there was a way to see the threads that bound people together, golden strings of light would be wrapping themselves around her and Ryan, joining them in bonds of friendship, lust, admiration, and love.

He stepped into her bedroom, swinging her so they were looking at what used to be her wall of the missing. She’d moved all but her laptop downstairs to the yoga studio along with the majority of the posters, flyers, and tips that she’d received about her various investigations. In the space where they’d been, she’d set up a small desk, an oversized chair, and a potted plant.

The only thing that hadn’t changed was the picture of Summer. She remained, smiling, only now she was surrounded by other pictures in quirky, colorful frames: Raquel smiling when she completed her training to join the police, Tavey with her dogs, the three of them together at high school graduation, an extra cap in hand in honor of Summer, and a picture of the four of them holding ice-cream cones and smiling, their heads together, enjoying their last summer together.

Chris didn’t intend to stop looking for her friend, and neither would Tavey or Raquel, but now she would look for her own life as well.

Ryan hugged her against his chest. “I like this wall better. Think I’m going to make it up there?” He tossed her on the bed, coming down on top of her, making room between her legs, which she obligingly hitched up in her best lotus pose.

“I know you are,” she told him with a grin, her heart as full and warm as it had been when she was sitting under an oak tree with her three best friends, joy spilling from her like a thousand balloons released into the air, their strings trailing happily into the heavens.

Look for

whispers

of

Fate

Book Two in the
Mistresses of Fate Series

by Deirdre Dore

Coming Spring 2014 from Pocket Star

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Deirdre Dore

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First Pocket Star Books ebook edition January 2014

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ISBN 978-1-4767-2770-7

BOOK: Strings of Fate (Mistresses of Fate)
6.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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