Deadly Vision (23 page)

Gil cursed as Fallon stalked down the driveway, jumped in her SUV and peeled off, the front tire of her bike spinning in the wake of the car.
I won’t need a babysitter tonight.
Damn. Of all the things he’d wanted to do, pissing her off wasn’t one of them. But she’d been so calm and removed, he’d lost sight of his intentions, and simply reacted on instinct.

“So tell me,” said Wade, turning to smile at him. “Is Fallon angry again…or still?”

Gil scowled and grabbed his jacket and a set of keys off the table, not bothering to look at Wade as he brushed past the man and headed for his truck parked at the kerb. “Did you download those photos onto the laptop yet?”

“First thing this morning. And I made a set of prints for you as well.” Wade followed him to his truck and jumped in the other side. “Once we pick up the evidence from the morgue, we can see if there’s anything new, though I doubt it.” Wade sighed. “This guy’s good.”

Gil nodded, but his mind wasn’t on the investigation, or Wade. All he could think about was the sudden change in Fallon’s attitude. As soon as he’d asked her about the case, she’d shut him out, not that she’d been too forthcoming before. But something he’d said had obviously bothered her.

He sighed and revved the engine, pulling onto the quiet street. He’d have plenty of time to figure it all out while she was gone. But she was crazy if she believed they were anything close to finished.

Chapter Fifteen

Fallon rode along the trail, lost in thought. She’d already tumbled over the handlebars twice because she hadn’t been paying attention, but she still couldn’t seem to focus on her ride.

This time the woman was a few months pregnant!

Gil’s words were stuck in her head and she couldn’t get the image of
The Priest
raping the girl out of her mind. Had the monster known she was pregnant? The woman had obviously been too early in the pregnancy to be showing, but…

She stopped the bike and ran her fingers gently over her stomach. Pregnant. That word had sent a shiver straight to her soul and she’d been unable to deal with Gil after that. Every word he’d spoken had just seemed a reverberation of
that
word, and she’d barely been able to breathe past the lump in her throat. She’d allowed Gil to come inside her, again. More than once! Even though she’d known she was in the middle of her cycle and that it was the perfect time for
her
to get pregnant. Yet, somehow, all that knowledge had vanished as soon as he’d touched her and she’d taken everything he’d offered her.

That had been the real reason she’d been so angry this morning. Hell, she’d never expected Gil to believe her outright, not without a bit more proof, but she’d lashed out at everything he’d had to say because she couldn’t stop thinking about her own mistakes. The kind that stayed with you for a lifetime.

“Damn.”

Fallon sighed and grabbed her CamelBak, soothing her dry throat with a sluice of water. The liquid swirled along her tongue, rekindling images of Gil in the shower, his body cover in droplets. How he’d groaned at her touch and climaxed so hard she could still feel the indents of his fingers in her scalp. She’d never tasted a man as delicious as him, or as dangerous. She knew he’d return, despite her candid declaration, and she was going to have to deal with that. Her only question was whether she’d be strong enough to turn him away.

“Assuming he wants me,” she reminded herself. Besides, the more times she played with fire, the more likely she was going to get burned. And if she asked him to wear a condom, she’d have to tell him she wasn’t on the pill any more. And that was a conversation she definitely wasn’t up to having just yet.

Fallon glanced at her watch and cringed. Jane had called her cell twice to see if she was going to come over to the barbeque, and she’d finally had to agree just to get the woman off the phone. Right now anything was better than sitting at home, wondering if she was going to be a mother. She could only hope all the stress in her life would mess up her periods and she’d escape with little more than a few weeks of worry. But even as she thought the words, an image of a small baby, wrapped in blue, hovered at the edges of her mind, as if daring her to deny what was already happening inside her.

“Come on, Fallon. Suck it up and get going,” she scowled, hoping the rough tone in her voice would motivate her. There was no use agonising over what she couldn’t change. She’d know soon enough, and then she’d make her choice. She nodded and kicked the pedal forward, launching herself into the trees.

* * * *

Gil sat in his truck, listening to what sounded like the same song waver across the radio. He’d arrived at her house twenty minutes ago, but Fallon still hadn’t returned from her ride yet. He huffed as the music changed, the new melody strangely similar to the one before. He hated waiting around outside her house like some college frat boy who was so desperate to get laid he’d follow women around waiting until they were vulnerable before descending on them. But right now, his options were extremely limited. He’d gone to all her usual places, only to find the lots empty. Apparently she’d found a new place to ride, and he didn’t have time to scour the countryside looking for her. So he’d executed the only alternative left. He’d driven to her house and parked by the kerb just down the street.

 
He could’ve waited inside. Though he’d followed her wishes and locked her door behind him, he’d also snagged the spare set of keys she’d left hanging on the hook by the door. But somehow it didn’t feel right going inside without her. It was
her
house now, and he felt a strange desire to be invited in.

“You’re losing it, Gil ole boy,” he muttered, wondering if this was the first inkling of approaching insanity. He sighed and considered investigating the thought further, when a flash of movement caught his attention. He glanced up the street just as Fallon’s Jeep came into view, merging out from beside a parked truck. She didn’t seem to notice his truck as she turned into her driveway and pulled to a halt, the front tire on her bike still spinning as it’d been when she’d left. She jumped out and turned to survey her bike. She seemed to be considering whether to take it off the rack or not before her shoulders slumped and she headed inside. Even a fair distance away he saw a rip in her tights down by her ankle and the mud splattered across her face spoke volumes.

She’d pushed herself. Hard.

Gil sighed and opened his door, scanning the streets as he made his way to her door. He still had this uneasy feeling that their serial killer wasn’t going to stay satisfied with merely talking to Fallon, and he didn’t want to risk her life because he was too caught up in his own thoughts to do his job.

He paused at the door long enough to try the handle. It swung open without a sound and he barely had the good sense to crush the curse on his tongue before stepping inside. Didn’t the woman have any sense? Leaving her door unlocked was a careless mistake she couldn’t afford to make. One he’d make sure she didn’t do again.

“Fallon?”

Her name seemed to vibrate in the silence as he stepped further inside the room. The air was heavy and still and except for her mud caked shoes tossed over to one side, there was no indication anyone was in the house. He walked over to the small table, fingering her set of keys when something on the floor drew his attention. He knelt down and ran a single finger through the watery drop, holding it up to the light. The redness of it shimmered, making his skin look sickly in comparison. He looked up and saw more drops trailing down the floor towards her room.

“Fuck!”

Gil drew his gun, and edged his back against the wall. More than a few images of what he might find flashed through his mind, but he pushed them away, forcing himself to concentrate on his movement. Every footstep was hushed, every twitch was calculated until he was standing outside Fallon’s bedroom door, gun poised beside his face, his chest tight with fear. He toed open the door, and sweep the room with his gun, ignoring the line of blood heading to the bathroom. He darted over to the closet, clearing the room first before stalking to the bathroom. The sound of running water was suddenly loud against the silence of the room, and he only paused for a second before he kicked the door open and burst inside, his gun aimed straight ahead.

Fallon dabbed at the wound, securing the first few strips across the opening. She’d miscalculated the last section of trail and had landed on a log when her bike went in one direction and her body the other. She’d used some bandages to hold the bleeding at bay, but it’d opened up on the drive home and left a bloody trial from her front door to her bathroom.

“Damn it!” Now she was going to be even later getting to Jane’s, a fact the woman wouldn’t let her forget. While Fallon appreciated her friend’s concern, the constant matchmaking was driving her crazy. Jane just didn’t seem to understand her reasons for staying single.

You just want Gil back.

She cursed at the thought, wishing her head would just shut up. Gil was only interested in her because of the case. They had a history. That made jumping into bed easy. But she was sure he’d find an excuse to let it all slide once the case was over, if he even bothered to say good-bye this time.

She winced as she tightened the last strip, not sure if it was the cut or the thought that hurt. She had enough in her life right now to worry about. She sure as hell didn’t need Gil added to that list. And what happened if she was pregnant? Would she keep the baby? Would she tell Gil?

She moaned and lowered her leg to the floor. It was all happening too fast. She never should’ve let Gil back in her life, even for a night of hot sex. Her heart just wasn’t able to distinguish between pleasure and love. And she definitely loved him.

Tears gathered in her eyes a moment before her bathroom door crashed open, banging the wall as it bounced back off the hinges. She screamed, dropped and rolled, tossing the can of disinfectant at the man who’d just burst into her bathroom. The bastard grunted as her aim hit home and she used the distraction to grab the toilet brush off to her left. Though she’d only gotten a glimpse of the gun in his hand, she knew if she hit his arm just right, the gun could be knocked loose, giving her a chance to defend herself. She cocked her arms and lunged to his left, swinging the brush in a graceful arc that connected hard against his knuckles, knocking him into the counter. She moved with him, determined to hit him again, when he turned sharply and grabbed her arms pushing her back against the wall.

“Jesus, Fallon, it’s me!”

She fought against his hold, not willing to go down without a fight, until he pressed his body against hers and yelled her name again. She looked up, finally breaking through the panic, and stared into Gil’s blue eyes.

“Easy, baby. It’s just me.”

Her breath came in hard pants, the fear making it difficult to get any air. He held her tight for another second and then slowly eased his grip, stepping back as he took the brush from her hand and tossed it on the floor. She forced herself to swallow, not sure how her legs were still able to hold her when they were trembling so bad she felt as if her teeth were chattering.

Gil held her stare as he slid his gun back into the holster under his left arm. Then he leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “That was…inventive.”

Fallon snorted and groped her way over to the toilet, plopping herself down when her legs finally gave out. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, hoping to hell he couldn’t see how badly she was trembling. “Damn it, Gil! You scared me half to death! What the hell was that all about?” She waved her hand at the Glock nestled by his chest. “What did you think you were going to find in my bathroom that required your gun?”

Gil’s expression changed and she saw the flash of fear register in his eyes before he quickly hardened his expression. “I wasn’t sure, that’s why I had the gun out.” He straightened his back and flicked his head towards the door. “Did you know there’s a trail of blood from the doorway to your bedroom? Or that you left your front door unlocked?” He crossed his arms again and tensed his jaw. “There’s a serial killer loose, Fallon. I wasn’t sure what I was going to find.”

Fallon huffed and forced herself up. “I cut my leg riding, and I guess I was just too preoccupied with fixing it than remembering to lock the door.”

Gil growled and took a step towards her. “Well starting now, that’s a mistake you can’t afford to make. Either you lock your door, or you don’t stay here alone.”

His statement was followed by his ‘this isn’t open for discussion’ look, but Fallon wasn’t buying it. “Like I told you before. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Gil only grunted as she pushed past him and propped her leg back on the counter. The cut she’d just finished bandaging together had started bleeding again.

“Good, God. That’s not a cut. It’s a bloody gash.” He moved in beside her. “You’ll need stitches.”

Fallon merely shrugged and applied pressure. “A set of butterfly bandages will do the same.” She looked up and glared at him. “As long as no one makes me roll across the floor again.”

Gil sneered back, but didn’t move. “It needs more than a few bandages.” He reached out and caressed her leg just below the wound. “Besides, if you don’t get it stitched, it’ll scar.”

“So,” she countered, trying to ignore the heat searing through her body where his fingers grazed her skin.