Sara's Child (22 page)

“What’s the matter, Edwards, never taken a woman on who can fight back?” She is sneering at him, baiting Edwards into making a mistake. Mentally she cocks a finger at him, willing him forwards.

“You’re nothing,” he screams, spittle flying as he shakes his head from side to side. “You’re just another cunt who doesn’t deserve to live – you’re weak and worthless, you little bastard!”

Catherine can hear his insanity, and thinks she detects a clue as to where his thoughts just veered off to. “Is that what she called you?” she asks more quietly. “The cunt that gave birth to you, did she think you were a weak and worthless little bastard?”

He seems to go into himself for a split second then comes back angrier than ever. “Don’t you talk about my mother,” he yells and takes a step forward but stops when he again sees the sharp blade Catherine is holding. “My Grandpa told me about women like you, putting yourself about like the trollop you are,” his eyes never leave the blade that is standing between him and his quarry. “The Lord has forsaken you, bitch, and he won’t help you when I punish you for your shameful sins.”

Catherine can see that she isn’t going to hold Edwards off for much longer; he is looking insane enough to walk onto the carving knife if it means getting his hands on her. For a brief moment, she has a flash of him doing just that, the warmth of his blood spilling over her hand and down her arm – then her blue eyes turn diamond hard and bright and her soft lips curve into a snarling imitation of a smile. “Come get me, Edwards,” she taunts, her right hand waving the long blade side to side, her left held out with her fingers crooked beckoning him forward. Moving her feet into a fighting stance, she readies herself to meet his charge, and then all hell breaks loose as Logan’s impressive broad shoulders break in the back door of the house.

He takes the situation in quickly and decides to stand firm. “Are you alright?” he asks seeing her bloody nose and a large bruise on her cheek that is beginning to bloom painfully.

“I’m fine,” she growls not taking her eyes off Edwards or lowering the knife, “now get the fuck out, we can take care of this can’t we Edwards?” she challenges and sees his answering glare and nod of acceptance. Then he pulls a sharpened screwdriver out of his back pocket and mimics her combative stance.

The next voice to speak takes them all by surprise. “You’re mum wouldn’t want this, Catherine,” Mrs Baines’ soft voice rings out in the heavy silence of the kitchen. “You can’t undo her pain by making him suffer,” she watches as Catherine’s frown deepens and her body crouches ready to pounce. “Be true to yourself, Catherine, to the woman your mum taught you to be,” she urges quietly, “and not what this monster is trying to make you.”

Too far away to take Edward’s out without risking Catherine, Logan forces himself to wait for the right moment to strike; and he is with Catherine, a knife in the gut is no more that this bastard deserves. But he doesn’t want it to be Catherine that drives it home she has already suffered enough.

“He’s tortured so many innocent people over so many years,” Catherine reasons bitterly, “and you want me to let this cretin live – not a chance!”

Then the decision is taken out of her hands as Edwards gives a loud yell and charges forward, the deadly sharpened point of the screwdriver aimed right at Catherine’s eyes.

Logan lets out an almighty, “No!” and throws himself at Edwards.

The scuffle is chaotic; Ben and Robert have joined Mrs Baines at the backdoor, having called the police for assistance first. “What the hell…,” Ben gapes, then both men lurch into the fray and try to pull the two men apart, Catherine having been pushed none too gently aside.

A cacophony of sirens sound in the street, but no one in the house either hears or takes any notice. Ben and Robert manage to restrain the still struggling Edwards when an officer with handcuffs restrains him more effectively and another helps him cart Edwards away. Hands on knees and drawing in gasping breaths, Ben and Robert laugh with relief that the fight is over and everyone has come out of it alive.

Inspector Harper speaks to his men as they leave with Edwards then moves forward the better to observe the scene. “He is the illegitimate son of Charles Llwyd,” he informs them all, looking particularly at Catherine, “so, in a very real way you lead us right to him,” he tells her, crouching to meet her at eye level. “We had a number of suspects, but only one who is Welsh spoken.” He takes Catherine’s hand, “Based on the work you did, finding all those assaults that took place in Glywyth, we did a thorough background check and found his mother, Morganna Edwards,” he looks over at Logan when Catherine still doesn’t respond and receives a nod of encouragement. “Catherine,” he gives her hand a squeeze, “she told us that Charles Llwyd is the father of her son, Charles Edwards, that’s why their voices sound so similar,” again he gives her hand a gentle squeeze but still gets no response. Looking over at Logan, the Inspector shakes his head, “I’m so sorry.”

Logan crawls over to where Catherine is sat on the kitchen floor, not moving or uttering a single word. Remembering what happened to her as a child, he can only hope that she won’t withdraw so entirely into herself as she had then. “Catherine…?” He moves slowly forward as the Inspector moves away and speaks quietly. “It’s me, Catherine… Logan,” he tells her and takes her hand gently in his. “It’s over, now, he’s gone forever and they’ll never let him out.”
Catherine, don’t leave me – not like this.

Barely blinking, Catherine gives no sign that she has heard a single word he’s spoken, and Logan turns to Mrs Baines, a hopeless plea in his dark eyes.

Moving forward, Mrs Baines sits on the floor next to Catherine. “It’s alright to grieve, Catherine,” she explains and puts an arm across her shoulders to draw her in to a motherly hug. “But it isn’t alright to hide from all this, even within yourself,” she prompts but receives no reply.

Logan closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against a kitchen unit – after everything that has happened it is all for nothing, he is going to lose Catherine anyway. A groan of agony brings everyone’s eyes to look at Logan. “You’re hurt,” Robert observes inanely, “oh god, Logan, the bastard stabbed you.”

Another groan from Logan is all it takes, “Logan…?” He could have danced a jig at the sound of Catherine’s voice, if it hadn’t been for the eight-inch screwdriver sticking out of his side.

Epilo
gue

Catherine awakes in Logan’s arms, her cheek soft and warm against the hard muscle of his expansive chest. “Good morning, birthday girl,” he gives her a squeeze and she groans dramatically.

“I think you just broke a couple of ribs,” she tells him when she manages to refill her lungs.

“Then allow me to kiss them better.” Lifting the cover, he works his way down her body to her ribs and makes Catherine laugh. “Feeling better yet?” he asks, his hands reaching up to cup her full round breasts.

Despite a sharp intake of breath, Catherine says, “Not yet,” then his teeth and tongue go to work and her nipples harden abruptly. “Still hurts,” she tells him then gasps when his tongue moves up to find her ear and a hand moves down to cup the growing heat between her thighs. “Holy shit,” she breathes then cries out when he tips her over the edge of the first wonderful peak.

Wanting to pleasure him, as he is her, Catherine moves her hand down his spine and under his gloriously firm body. But Logan just bats her hand aside; trailing kisses from her ear to her lips, he stifles any protest.

She feels her world shift and spin when he takes the kiss so deep she is dizzy from it. “Inside me,” is all she can say when their lips part, but Logan just chuckles wickedly.

“Not a chance,” she hears him croon before diving back under the covers to feast hungrily all the way down her body until he reaches the apex of her already spread legs. Another knowing chuckle and then he is silent but Catherine gasps and cries out in pleasure, her responses driving him wild with the love he wants to show her.

“Logan…!” she yells desperately, “for pity’s sake,” she pleads and is relieved to feel him making his way back up her body.

“A lady shouldn’t beg,” he laughs as he moves over her.

“Fuck that,” she declares before moving to guide him inside her.

“I’d much rather fuck you,” he tells her then thrusts into Catherine holding her hips off the bed allowing her to meet him beat for fierce beat.

Their bodies climb higher than they ever have before and just when Catherine thought she might implode she hears Logan tell her that he loves her. She loves him too, and is easy with it now; even enjoying the feelings they share. Then her body tenses to erupt and Logan says, “Marry me, Catherine, be mine forever,” he begs her.

And just before falling off the edge of the world, Catherine screams her reply.

Much later, over a very late breakfast that Mrs Baines has cooked them, Catherine tries to back out of her commitment. “It doesn’t count,” she whispers frowning down at her scrambled eggs, “I was under duress at the time.” She puts a forkful of the excellent eggs in her mouth then wags the empty fork at Logan.

“You were under me,” he snickers, and she blushes bright pink.

“Will you stop,” and this time she uses the fork to indicate Mrs Baines in the kitchen, “she’ll hear you!”

“Good,” he smiles as the woman herself walks in with a fresh jug of filter coffee.

“It’s so nice to see you both happy and smiling,” she tells them, then hesitates when Catherine frowns.

“That’s because we have some great news,” Logan tells his housekeeper, and reaches over to pat Catherine on the back as she starts to choke on her eggs. “Catherine has accepted my proposal,” he grins broadly, “we’re getting married.”
Oh, fuck it.

“Oh, congratulations,” Mrs Baines throws her now empty hands and the tea towel she’s holding over her arm up in the air, causing even Catherine to laugh at her exuberance. “It couldn’t happen to a nicer couple,” she says catching the tea towel and dabbing her eyes with it.

When Mrs Baines goes back into the kitchen, Catherine frowns over at Logan. “If she’s so damned happy for us, why is she crying for christ’s sake?”

“Then you are going to marry me?” he asks her. “I won’t show you your birthday present if you don’t say yes,” he teases

Getting up she backs away from him. “I’ll decide after I’ve seen my present,” Catherine tosses over her shoulder as she goes ahead of him out of the conservatory and heads for the lounge.

“I knew it,” he shakes his head in mock dejection, “you’re just after me for my money.”

They both laugh, and then Catherine says, “It’s your body I’m after, I can’t get enough of it,” then lets out a scream as Logan tickles her ribs.

“Over here,” he tells her and guides Catherine towards the large bay window.

Frowning she looks down at the floor and over to the nearby chair. “Am I going blind or is this the tiniest birthday present on the planet?”

He moves behind her, places a large gentle hand on either side of her head, and turns her to look out of the window. “Is that big enough for you…?”

A ginormous pink bow sits atop a blue sports car, the ribbon going all the way round it. “You have got to be kidding me,” she breathes, shocked and stunned and…, “I can’t take that,” she turns to look up at him, her head shaking, “It’s too much, Logan, I can’t possibly.”
Bloody Nora, a fucking car!

His huge grin has not wavered she notes nervously. “Too late,” he tells her determinedly, and holds out a set of keys. “It’s in your name and everything – and I’ve already driven it so the garage won’t take it back,” he lies convincingly

“But…” She turns to see Mrs Baines smiling in the doorway. “I suppose you knew all about this,” Catherine accuses but can’t stop the smile that is tugging reluctantly at her lips.
Honestly, ganged up on! But it is gorgeous.

Mrs Baines nods happily. “Aren’t you even going to sit in it?” she enthuses encouragingly.

Turning back to Logan, Catherine takes the keys he holds out to her. Hiding her growing excitement, she manages to frown, though none too convincingly. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a look,” she grumbles, then marches out to the front drive with Logan and Mrs Baines on her heels.

Walking slowly around the car, she fingers the outsized bow and laughs. “I hope you had to drive home with this on,” she jibes at him playfully, “I’d have paid good money to see that, wouldn’t you Mrs Baines?” and both women laugh at his uncomfortable smile.

“I had it delivered,” he tells her promptly, then could have bit his own tongue off.

“So, when did you get time to drive it?” Catherine asks, knowing she has found him out. Holding on to her frown for just a moment longer she cannot bare his anxious face. “Just kidding, I love it,” she tells him and flings her arms around his neck. They don’t notice Mrs Baines move discreetly indoors, they are too busy enjoying the moment. “So when do I get to drive it?” she asks moving to pull out of his arms.

“How about this afternoon…?” Logan replies catching her to him and planting a noisy smacker of a kiss on her still smiling lips.

“Why this afternoon? Is there something going on that I don’t know about?” Catherine imagines he probably has some sort of surprise birthday party planned.

Logan doesn’t hesitate, he can’t or he will lose his nerve. “Yes,” he replies, his smile now tentative but still in place, “we’re picking your sister up from the airport.”