Chasing Adonis (31 page)

While her posture remained straight and sure, she kept her
gaze focused on the exit. Vibrations hummed in the air around her. They came
from the man standing on the other side of that barrier, the man who’d come
into her life when she needed him most. As her heels click-clacked over the
tile floor, her heart echoed his name: Shane, Shane, Shane, Shane…

Maintaining a sedate walk wasn’t easy, but soon, she’d
reached the door and pushed her way through. Instantly she found herself
enveloped in his reassuring embrace. Tension flowed from her in a deluge. 

“You okay?” he murmured against her hair.

After the verbal battle she’d waged over the last week with
Cherry’s defense attorney, words exhausted her. She settled for nodding in
reply.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s get out of
here.”

He led her out of the courtroom where noisy reporters
clamored for an interview with the star witness to open their evening news
shows.

“Ms. Berros, what are your plans now?”

“Is it true you refused to enter the Federal Witness
Protection Program?”

“Ms. Berros, do you think you’ll be able to go back to a
normal life now?”

“What’s next for you, Adara?”

With one arm around her shoulder and the other extended
toward the gaggle of reporters, Shane shielded Adara from the bright lights and
thrusting microphones.

“No comment,” he muttered again and again as he huddled her
close and helped her descend the stone steps through the throng.

“What about you, Detective Griffin?”

“Any truth to the rumor that the relationship between you
and Ms. Berros is more than professional?”

At that moment, District Attorney Henry Silver exited the
building, and the vultures swarming Shane and Adara switched targets.

“Mr. Silver, how do you feel about the outcome of the
trial?”

 “Will you be seeking the death penalty in the
sentencing phase?”

Henry Silver held up a hand for quiet. “I’m going to read a
brief statement, but I will not answer any specific questions. Needless to say,
the District Attorney’s office is thrilled with the outcome of today’s verdict.
Certainly, many thanks go to Adara Berros for her courage throughout this
ordeal.”

Adara heard no more as Shane hustled her across the parking
lot and into his car. He quickly started the engine and drove out of the state
office building complex. Once on the parkway, he reached for her hand and
squeezed gently.

“Where to?”

“Home,” she replied wistfully, leaning against the leather
seat back. It would feel so good to go home.

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours. I haven’t seen Tyler all week. I want to be there
when he gets off the school bus today.”

Lifting their clasped hands, he kissed her knuckles. “He
loves you, you know. Almost as much as I do.”

“I love him, too. Almost as much as I love you.”

Blissfully content, she watched his face for a moment,
enjoying the way the afternoon sun painted white light across his cheeks.
Instinctively, her hand touched the medallion at her neck—not in fear, but out
of gratitude. How did she get so lucky? Shane Griffin’s love was the greatest
gift she’d ever received, and she sometimes found it impossible to measure her
good fortune. Who could have guessed that winding up as Cherry’s target in a
suspicious car accident would bring such happiness her way?

They completed the drive in silence and reached Shane’s
small home with a few minutes to spare before Tyler’s bus arrived.

Doting grandma, Pauline, waited at the corner. Her smile
widened when Shane slowed the car beside her. “I heard the news on the radio.”
She leaned into the passenger window to kiss Adara’s cheek with fondness. “I
was hoping you’d make it back in time. Tyler will be thrilled to see you here.
He’s missed you, you know.”

The car barely stopped in the driveway before Adara climbed
out to stand beside Pauline. “I’ve missed him, too.”

The school bus pulled up outside, red lights flashing, and
Adara stood, waiting for the precious child to notice her. It didn’t take long.

“Adara!” He bounded down the steps and raced into her
outstretched arms. “I knew you’d come today. I knew it!”

“Oh, I missed you so much,” she replied, squeezing him
tightly and inhaling the strawberry scent of his baby shampoo.

She’d only met Tyler a few times since her relationship with
Shane had changed from professional to romantic, but the boy had a heart as
huge as Montana and a smile that made her melt. In no time at all, they were
extremely close. On several occasions, they’d watched his favorite television
show, Prufrock and the Nuclear Wasteoids, or played Prufrock games with his
action figures. Knowing Tyler’s tragic past, she showered him with affection
yet never tried to undermine or replace the love the boy had for his guardian
or grandmother.

“Come inside,” Tyler announced. “Uncle Shane and I have a
present for you in the house.”

Her gaze moved from the excited child’s features to the
suddenly mysterious expression on Shane’s face. “You do?”

“I was going to wait until tonight,” Shane admitted. “But
since Tyler’s already let the cat out of the bag…”

“Come on.” Tyler tugged at her hand. “Come see.”

“In a minute, Tyler,” Shane told him. “Go with Grandma. I
want to talk to Adara alone for a minute.”

“Okay.” Skooching his backpack higher up on his shoulders,
he scampered across the walk and into the house.

“Well?” Adara asked when the door closed. “What’s up?”

“This,” he said and leaned forward to capture her lips in a
kiss.

Time stood still, and the world around her melted as she
lost herself in the incredible delicacy of his lips and tongue. Only when
something yanked up and down on her skirt several times did she break away to
see Tyler waiting to be noticed. He held a small velvet box in his hand and
looked to Shane for confirmation before handing it to Adara.

“Do it just like we practiced, Tyler,” Shane advised.

There, on the sidewalk outside the pretty little house on
Waycroft Street, two males, one adult and one child, knelt and offered her the
box.

“Adara?” Great seriousness etched lines in Tyler’s childish
brow. “Will you be my aunt?”

With shaking hands, Adara took the box and flipped it open.
Inside, nestled on jet black velvet, sat a perfect diamond solitaire. Rapture
surrounded her, filled her senses, and sang inside her head.

“Yes,” she exclaimed, hugging both Shane and Tyler against
her fiercely. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Once again, the question flitted into her mind unbidden. How
did
she get so lucky? While one hand clutched the velvet box, the other
reached up to touch her medallion. Somewhere in her life, she must have done
something wonderful to deserve to know such happiness now.

Epilogue

Ted Pha turned on the television in his Malibu beach house
and flipped on the evening news.

“Ted,” his latest nubile young co-star whined, “I thought we
were going to spend some time alone together before Barbara Walters and the
television crew showed up for your interview.”

“We will, Colette,” he replied. “I need to see something
first.”

Ted turned up the volume when a bubbly, blond anchorwoman
filled the plasma screen. She reported, “In New York, the strange saga of
Benjamin Cherry and Adara Berros came to a surprising and happy end today. We
reported last June that, after a second trial, the gang leader was sentenced to
three consecutive life terms on a laundry list of charges ranging from murder
to racketeering to tax evasion. Ms. Berros, an eyewitness to the murder of
physical education teacher, Terence McGill, testified for the prosecution at
last year’s trial. Well, this afternoon, in a lovely outdoor ceremony, Ms.
Berros married police detective, Shane Griffin. Mr. Griffin was assigned to
protect Ms. Berros during the trial, and the two have been almost inseparable
ever since. The newlyweds, accompanied by Mr. Griffin’s nephew, will spend
their honeymoon in Florida at the famous KidLand resort.”

A clip of the beautiful bride, swathed in white lace,
smiling as she clutched the arm of her handsome husband and climbed into a
white Rolls Royce, appeared on the screen.

“Pretty girl,” Colette remarked. “Who is she?”

Ted Pha absentmindedly fingered the Academy Award for Best
Actor sitting on the table beside the couch. “Just someone I knew a long time
ago…”

Turn the page for
a sneak peek at Gina’s paranormal romance,
Eternally
Yours
.

Chapter 1

Jodie Devlin
sucked at life. So she refused to screw up her death. No turning back, no
chickening out, hoping life would get better tomorrow. Like, magically, some
genie would appear to make her successful, beautiful, happy. Loveable.

The Jeep
explosion so many years ago in Castelan, El Salvador had stolen her parents,
scarred her flesh, and ruined any possible chance she’d know love. Gabe had
never loved her. She understood that now.

He didn’t deserve you,
some inner voice
told her.

No more fantasies,
she fired back. After
all, she knew the truth. She hadn’t deserved
him.

For once,
though, she’d do something right. Her suicide tonight would go down perfectly.
A combination of over-the-counter sleep aids, a brand new bottle of Grey Goose,
and a filled bathtub gave her a trifecta guaranteed to succeed.

On a half-dozen
gulps of vodka, she downed all thirty blue pills, a handful at a time. The
mixture hit her stomach like a prize fighter’s punch, but she swallowed hard to
keep it all down. No way did she intend to exit like that 1940’s starlet she’d
read about—Lupe Something-or-other. The Mexican Spitfire had set up a gorgeous
room, donned the perfect gown, hand-picked the flowers and candles.
Unfortunately when the cops found her the next day, poor Lupe sat hunched
face-first in the toilet.

Jodie required
more dignity for her end. The dignity she’d never gained in life. Shivering at
the bitter memories, she stepped into the hot, glistening water. Aaaahhhh. Who
knew death could come so pleasantly?

Gentle hands caressed
her as she began her slow descent into nothingness. A cote of doves surrounded
her, lifting her on snowy wings. Their feathers whisked her cheeks like the
kisses of angels. Peace rolled over her, wrapped her in a precious homespun
afghan. Her pain evaporated, leaving only sweet vanilla warmth. Closing her
eyes, she allowed the birds to carry her onward…

“Next! Yoo-hoo?
Next!”

Jodie snapped
alert at the snotty woman’s prompt. Where was she? Was this hell?

Blinking, she
studied the polished golden marble walls and floor. Red velvet ropes with brass
fittings encased her in a serpentine line along with a host of other barely
attentive people. Each figure—male or female, tall or short, fat or thin—wore a
diaphanous lavender toga. When she looked at her own body, she saw the same
garment draping her limbs, soft as spun spider webs.

They stood in a
tremendous reception area of what might have been a five-star hotel lobby. Deep
mahogany wood framed the glass elevators and a wraparound railing one story above
her. Although a dozen doors broke up the monotony of solid walls, none held an
exit sign or window which might lend a clue to her whereabouts. From the
ceiling, at least a hundred stories up, chandeliers dripped filaments of
colored light like purple rain. Was she in Prince’s house? Oh, God, this
was
hell!

But no. Behind
her, a waterfall, surrounded by lush ferns and majestic palm trees, splashed
cool mist into primavera air. Men and women, garbed in white uniforms with gold
braid, raced around life-sized white marble statues of angels, unicorns, and
smiling dragons.

“Neeeee-exxxxt!”
The woman’s voice turned the one syllable word into two.

Jodie’s gaze
flew to a long reception desk with ten clerks behind and nine customers in
front. A dark-haired, sloe-eyed woman in the same white and gold uniform leaned
forward from the open slot and signaled to Jodie with a crooked finger.
Confusion dogging her steps, she inched forward. The woman’s attention veered
to a computer monitor and keyboard, fingers clickety-clacking with expediency.
“Name?”

“Jodie Devlin,”
she replied through dry lips.

“Any middle
initial?”

“R. Rosalind.”

The woman
frowned. “Date of death?”

She almost
answered with her birth date, but then stopped to think. “Date of…” A lump rose
in her throat, and she swallowed with difficulty. “…death?”

Over the
polished mahogany top, the woman’s hands rolled in mid-air. “Can we speed this
up, please? There are a thousand people behind you. What was your date of
death?”

“The eighth of
A-April.”

Brow cocked, the
clerk sighed. “You’re not on my reservations list. Are you sure you’re supposed
to be here?”

Was she? She
had absolutely no idea. After another glance at the marble and mahogany décor,
the crowds of lost sheep, and the harried attendants, she leaned over the
counter to whisper, “Ummm…where exactly is here?”

“Oh, for God’s
sake.” Palms against the marble edge, the woman pushed away from the keyboard.
Her barstool-style wheeled chair skidded across the floor. Leaning, she slammed
a large red button on a table behind her. “Sherman? I think I’ve got a
thirty-six-slash-eleven over here.” She rolled back behind the counter, eyes
narrowed. “Are you, perhaps, a suicide?”

Heat rocketed
into Jodie’s cheeks—did she have cheeks? Whatever she had, embarrassment shot flames
through her face. She managed a slight nod, and then turned away.