Unleashed (31 page)

Four days later

C
aroline sipped a glass of wine and listened silently as the Taggart men spoke in low voices about the shocking discoveries they’d made in the last week and a half. Eighteen girls were rescued from Gates’s rural hideout. Five were pregnant. In addition they found the remains of four bodies buried around the grounds. It was assumed they were the remains of girls who had died in complications from childbirth.

The information they discovered on James’s flash drive told a chilling tale of a veritable baby factory, one of desperate couples willing to pay any price for a healthy baby who resembled them. In exchange, the adoptive families looked the other way, didn’t ask any questions about a process that had to seem not quite kosher.

“I still don’t understand why Mom felt she had to keep her volunteer work a secret from us,” Ethan said. He was pacing around the kitchen, and hadn’t sat still since Caroline had arrived.

“She thought we wouldn’t care,” Derek said. He was propped against an armchair occupied by his fiancée, Alyssa. Caroline still couldn’t quite absorb the idea of serious, analytical Derek being engaged to a woman who up until six months ago had been one of the world’s most notorious party girls. Odd as it was, it worked. The connection between them was so strong it was palpable. “Seriously,” he continued, “that last year, how often did we see her? How often did we talk to her? We were all fed up with the crying and the drinking and who knew what else. Even you,” he said pointedly to Ethan.

Ethan ran an angry hand through his hair and halted his pacing. Caroline remembered that Ethan was closer to Anne than the other two. Or at least he’d tried to be. But like Derek said, even Ethan had given up trying to have a relationship with her when it seemed like all Anne wanted to do was hide in her bedroom with a bottle of chardonnay.

“We’ll never know her reasons,” Joe said matter of factly. He still looked tired and gaunt and old beyond his years. But unlike the last time she’d seen him, the aura of utter despair had dissipated. He didn’t strike her as a man at peace, but now that he knew the entire truth about his wife’s fate, he seemed to be on his way there. “The truth is, I failed her. What happened to her was my fault for not listening to her and giving her what she needed.”

Caroline could feel Danny’s arm tense behind her where it was stretched across the back of the loveseat. She was still trying to absorb the reality of being there, with Danny, pressed against his side at a family gathering. His date. His girlfriend.

At least she thought so. They hadn’t talked much about the status of their relationship after his barely audible confession of love. But he’d certainly sounded eager to see her when he told her to come over to his dad’s place for dinner and to pack a bag so she could stay at his place for a few days.

God knew she was eager to see him.

It was his second day home from the hospital and the first time she’d seen him in three days. Once he got to the hospital and through surgery to stop the bleeding and remove his spleen, she’d left him to recover.

Kate and Michael had been staying with her after their ordeal and Caroline had taken a couple of days to clear up her own legal issues. Once the truth about James, Patrick, Marshall, and Gates came out, the police realized they didn’t have a case aganst her. Hector Ramirez, the inmate who had told police Caroline had tried to hire him to kill James, admitted he’d been paid to lie. Yesterday the DA had given a press conference and announced that Caroline Medford was no longer a suspect in her husband’s murder and they would not be pursuing any further charges against her.

That huge victory had been tainted by what was happening to Melody. The press was all over the story of Jennifer’s illegal adoption, and Caroline didn’t know how mother and daughter were ever going to recover.

She’d brightened considerably at the prospect of seeing Danny. Not only did she want to reassure herself that he was well and whole—she would have nightmares of him lying on the floor of that barn in a pool of his own blood for the rest of her life—but now they were finally free.

Free of the past. Free of the dark cloud of accusations hanging over her head. Free to move forward into the future together.

But as the conversation progressed and Danny became more and more withdrawn, a sick pit formed in her stomach and dug in its roots. She tried to shove it aside, but she couldn’t shake the grim foreboding that maybe things weren’t as different as she wanted them to be.

“Look, we can yammer about this as much as we want,” Danny said tightly. “But the only unforgivable thing is that I didn’t get there in time to kill Patrick Easterbrook myself.”

“I think we all would have liked to have been in on that,” Joe said grimly.

Caroline rubbed the bunched muscles of Danny’s thigh reassuringly. It was eating at him, she knew, the fact that he wasn’t the one to put the bullet in Patrick’s head. He threaded his fingers through hers and absently raised her hand to his lips.

“I hate unfinished business,” he’d said in the hospital, a little dopey from his meds. “Like to take care of things myself.”

“I’ve got some unfinished business you can handle,” she’d said, trying to lighten the mood, and had earned a sleepy, sexy, smile that curled her toes for her efforts.

Danny pushed himself up from the couch, a slight grimace the only evidence he had any pain from his wound. Caroline immediately stood to help him but he brushed her off. Still she followed him behind the granite topped island that separated the kitchen’s sitting area and breakfast nook from the stove top and double ovens. The conversation about Anne Taggart, the choices she made and whose fault it was that no one had managed to discover the truth continued as Danny turned the roast he was searing in a large saute pan.

He flipped it quickly and it slapped down into the pan, spattering hot oil everywhere. Danny jumped back to avoid the spatter, wincing as the sudden movement was too much for his wound. Caroline put out one hand to steady him and reached for the tongs with the other. “Why don’t you let me do that,” she said, “and you sit down and take it easy.”

“Stop coddling me,” he snapped. “I don’t need you hovering over me right now.”

Pain speared through her at his unexpected outburst. “I’m not hovering, I just wanted to help,” she said, then wanted to kick herself for feeling like she was the one who needed to defend herself. Boom. It had been less than a week, and already she was back in that old pattern, trying to smooth everything over when Danny got too impatient and frustrated with the world.

That pit of dread in her stomach had a growth spurt.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ethan asked the question that was on the tip of her tongue.

“Nothing is wrong with me,” Danny said as he poured wine in the pan and threw in handfuls of carrots and onions to surround the roast. He picked up the pan and slid it into the oven, closing the door with a metallic clang. “I just wish we could stop talking about this shit. Every family dinner is like a goddamn
Oprah
show. It’s over and done with, and trying to figure out what her problem was and trying to take the blame for what happened doesn’t get us anywhere. We finally know what happened to her. It’s over. Now let’s stop wallowing around in all this emotional bullshit and move the fuck on.”

Caroline stood frozen as Danny stormed out of the kitchen. As his heavy footsteps reverberated on the hardwood floors his words echoed in her head in an endless loop.
I can’t deal with your emotional bullshit. Stop talking. Move the fuck on
.

Grief washed through her, as raw and devastating as the first time she’d broken up with him. No, this was worse, because she’d let herself hope that they really had a second chance. Just as they’d tried to push an intense high school romance well past its breaking point, Caroline had let herself believe that their brief, adrenaline fueled reunion of the past couple weeks could be the beginning of something new.

But even though everything had changed, nothing had changed. He was still the same Danny Taggart, and he would never let her in, and never tolerate her moments of neediness. And she was the same Caroline Palomares, and she’d never be satisfied with being shut out and shut down.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Derek said and started for the door.

Caroline held up her hand. “No, Danny and I have some things to discuss.”

She set her wine glass on the counter and crossed the hallway into the living room. Through the glass sliders at the other end of the room she could see Danny out in the yard. His muscles bulged under the long sleeves of his knit shirt and his face was grim as he stared off into the distance. She took a moment to study him, to drink in every nuance of his face and features, letting the memory of him as a thirty-five-year-old man overlay those she had of him as a twenty-three-year-old.

Different, yet gut wrenchingly familiar.

His silver eyes that could go from molten hot to icy cold in a heartbeat. His sharp cheekbones and hard jaw dusted with black stubble. His big, long fingered hands that could stroke her to ecstasy as easily as they could snap a man’s neck.

She loved him so much it hurt, and she knew she always would. The realization that they could never make each other happy was so painful it nearly brought her to her knees.

He looked up as she stepped through the sliding glass door and raised an impatient hand. “Caroline, I really don’t feel like talking right now.”

She let out a half laugh, half sob as his words sent a stab of pain straight through her heart. She mustered every bit of strength she possessed to do what needed to be done.
Do it quick, like ripping off a bandaid. Let the blood flow
. “I think I know better than to ask that of you by now,” she said. “So I’ll do all the talking. I can’t do this again.”

His dark brows pulled together sharply. “Do what?”

“This. Us.”

“What are you talking about?” His voice was sharp with irritation.

She folded her arms around herself as though that could stop her from breaking into a million tiny pieces. “I thought things would be different. I thought we could be different.”

“It is different,” he said looking bewildered. “Now I understand what happened and why you broke up with me—”

She could feel her herself weakening at his genuine confusion. “I didn’t leave you because of the miscarriage, or even because you went out and got drunk when I needed to see you. I left you because you close yourself up and shut everyone out when you have to deal with anything painful.”

“I just want to shut up and move on,” he said. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Because you don’t move on. You think you do, but you don’t. You just bottle everything up and let it fester until it destroys you from the inside out. And you don’t let anyone else deal with their pain either. We’re all just supposed to suck it up and move on like big, strong Danny Taggart. But not everyone operates that way.”

“What, just because I won’t spill my guts and cry like a girl, you’re dumping me again? I love you!” It sounded almost like an accusation.

“And I love you too,” she felt her heart crack in half as she said it. “I think I always will. But that doesn’t mean we can make each other happy.”

“This is ridiculous. Why are you going psycho on me again?”

The P word sent fury surging in her chest, hardening her against him like nothing else could. “I’m not going psycho,” she snapped. “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think you could change or that anything could be different. You’re doing the exact same thing you always do. Lashing out and pushing me away every time I try to get you to talk to me. Well I’m done. I’m ending it now, before I let you destroy me again.”

His mouth twitched and she saw something flash in his eyes. That bleak, soul deep need she’d only seen from him twice before. A spark flickered inside her, igniting a feeble ray of hope as she acknowledged the ulterior motive she hadn’t realized was there until that moment.

A tremor rippled through her body as she watched him, waiting for him to speak. For all her angry bravado, there was still part of her that wanted him to refuse to give up.
Fight for me. Fight for us
. Maybe this time when she backed him into a corner he wouldn’t make the same mistake.

The vulnerable look disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, shut away behind his cold, gray stare, snuffing out the spark of hope.

His mouth took on a derisive twist. “Fine, if walking out on me is what you need to do, go ahead. I won’t stop you.”

Her eyes burned with tears and his features blurred. “I do love you Danny. And I hope you’ll be happy someday.”

He didn’t come after her as she walked through the house and out the front door. She really didn’t expect him to, but silly girl that she was, she hoped.

Three weeks later

All this fucking happiness was making him sick to his stomach.

Or maybe it was the scotch.

Nah, he thought as he sloshed more MacCallan into his glass. Had to be all the goddamned love in the air. Sickly sweet and radiating off everyone in the room, especially from Ethan and Toni who had announced a few minutes ago that they were engaged.

He took a healthy swig of the scotch and watched Alyssa give Toni a congratulatory hug. The lines of their bodies started to blur around the edges, letting Danny know the scotch was doing its work. He took another gulp to keep the magic going.

“It’s gorgeous,” Toni said, spreading her fingers and angling the platinum and ruby creation to catch the light. “It makes it even more special that you designed it personally.”

“It was my pleasure,” Alyssa said and gave Toni one final squeeze. “I’m just glad Ethan trusted me enough to run with it.”

“I told her I wanted something as amazing and unique as you,” Ethan said, embracing Toni from behind and pressing a kiss to her neck.

“Gag me,” Danny muttered. Too loud, apparently because Toni, Ethan, Derek, Alyssa, even his father turned to glare at him. “I mean, congratulations, many happy returns, all that shit.” He grabbed the bottle for another pour and wondered why the hell he’d even come tonight.