Home Is Where the Heart Is Read online

  They wrestled around, bumping into the table and cabinets before Liz yelped in pain, her breathing heavier and ragged, the knife protruding from her abdomen. A crimson stain grew on her shirt, her small hand gripping the hilt of the blade, McAllen’s large hand over hers. He panicked and quickly stepped back as Liz crumpled to the kitchen floor. She would damn sure talk now. He wasn’t sure what to do. He was only supposed to threaten her, not harm her physically. As she bled from her wound, he looked at her with fear in his eyes. She would talk. He would die. It was that simple.

  Seeing the fear on McAllen’s face, Liz gathered all of her strength and laughed. “You messed up, didn’t you? They’ll catch you and your bastard friends. You’re nothing but a dirty fucking cop!”

  That laugh infuriated him and he immediately saw red, losing control. Gripping the knife protruding from her body, he jerked it free, watching her squirm as the flow of blood coloring her clothing increased rapidly. He raised the knife high above his head. Liz screamed as loud as she could, hoping someone would hear her calling out for help.

  McAllen came down on her like a hurricane, swiftly stabbing with all his might. With each pass of the blade, blood splattered into the air, arcing onto the ceiling and the nearby cabinets as he growled with the fury that had consumed him. Liz was beyond fighting back; she was at the mercy of this beast of a man. She clamped her eyes closed, the ability to cry out long gone now, her strength wavering as she began praying that her daughter would not return until he was gone.

  “That’ll teach you to laugh, bitch!” McAllen growled. Righting himself, he took in his handy work. She was a bloody mess. Liz didn’t move a muscle or make a sound. She lay still, eyes closed, praying for someone to find her when the monster left her alone to die. The pain from her wounds was blindingly sharp; she was losing a lot of blood and needed help fast.

  McAllen grabbed a kitchen towel from the counter and wrapped the knife in it, then snatched a roll of paper towels from the counter to remove as much blood as he could from his hands. He was screwed. There was only one possible way to salvage the mess. He had to make it look like a burglary gone wrong. He pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and quickly put them on as he darted into the living room and began tossing furniture and small items around the room, hoping that it would look like a burglar had searched for something. He rummaged through drawers, tossing the contents, as well as the empty drawers, onto the floor. Once he was satisfied with the mayhem, he returned to the kitchen, grabbed the bloody knife and rushed out the door to his car. He was scared shitless. If the police caught him, he’d rot in jail. If his other boss caught him, he’d be lucky to get a quick death. Hopefully, with any luck, two deaths in the same family in such a short amount of time would just be considered an incredibly sad coincidence.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Mrs. Abigail Franklin was seventy-five years old and had lived in Sizzle her entire life. She had inherited the house across the street from the Michaels from her parents. The Michaels had always been good to her so she made sure to do what she could for them. That mainly consisted of watching over their house when they were out for the day or out of town. It was the least she could do, after all. Ever since Mr. Michaels had been murdered, she kept an even closer eye on the goings-on in the neighborhood.

  She was keeping watch when Detective McAllen dropped by. He wasn’t aware of her, but she was sure aware of him. When she saw the car pull into the drive, she became concerned, but then she noticed the flash of gold clipped to his belt when he got out of the car. He was with the police. Breathing a sigh of relief, she headed for the kitchen for a fresh cup of tea. With the police around, Liz would be alright. That thought went away when she heard a man shouting and a woman screaming. Abigail shuffled to the front window and sure enough, she heard glass breaking and loud crashes coming from across the street. Before she could make her way to the phone across the room, she saw McAllen hastily make his way across the lawn with a package under his arm.

  “Now what’s that crazy man up to?” she said to no one.

  After McAllen sped away, Abigail called the Michaels residence but no one answered. She knew Liz was home. Worried and fearing for her safety, she grabbed her phone but before she could press the three numbers and make the call, she saw Kyra arrive at the house, with another man on a motorcycle – she believed he was a former cop – pulling into the drive right behind her. Without another thought to what she had heard she placed the phone back on the receiver and returned to her hot cup of tea. Everything would be okay now.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Dylan followed Kyra back to her parents’ house. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. She was consuming his thoughts, which wasn’t a bad thing as far as he was concerned. He just needed to find a way to approach her. The timing couldn’t be worse, though, considering what had happened to her dad. He was willing to wait, but he had already waited for so long. He had no idea how long she’d be stay in Sizzle, and he didn’t want to let the opportunity slip through his fingers again.

  Asking Kyra out on a date shouldn’t be so darn hard. He wanted to get to know her again; not the girl from Sizzle, but the woman she had become. He wanted to know what she had been up to the last five years. Why she had left so suddenly. He just wanted to know her. He was struggling to keep his relationship with her professional at this point, but every time he saw her, he couldn’t help but take in the swell of her gorgeous breasts, the firm round ass, and taut legs. She’d changed so much. There were only tiny glimpses of the shy girl he once knew. Now she was strong and beautiful, sure of herself in a way that was sexy as hell, but asking her out would have to wait. As he climbed off his bike, he noticed the front door ajar, and Liz didn’t seem like the type of person to let her door stay open.

  With his police training kicking into high gear, he stepped in front of her, pushing her behind him as he pulled his gun. “Stay here,” he told her.

  Kyra gasped when Dylan had pulled his gun, but her mom was in there. She wasn’t just going to stand outside in the yard and wait. “No, I’m going with you.”

  Frowning at her, Dylan apparently decided it was quicker to agree than argue. “Then stay behind me.” His eyes bore into hers until she nodded. He turned and slowly approached the house, keeping one arm angled out in case Kyra tried to slip past him.

  As he eased the front door open, he noticed the overturned furniture, the chaos of the once-immaculate room. This definitely wasn’t good. Kyra stayed pressed to his back, easing inside behind him not wanting to separate from him, and at the same time fighting the urge to run through the house looking for her mother. She could feel his muscles clenching tighter and tighter as they moved from the entryway to the living room. Her eyes lit on the destruction in the living room and her breath whooshed out, tightening her lungs. What the hell was going on?

  “Mrs. Michaels?” Dylan shouted. “Are you home?”

  He knew she was; her car was in the driveway. An overwhelming feeling of dread rushed through his body, mixing with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. As they rounded the overturned sofa, noticing the jagged rips made in the floral material, they heard a pleading moan coming from the kitchen. Kyra and Dylan rushed to the doorway, finding Mrs. Michaels covered in blood on the kitchen floor.

  “Mom! Oh my God!” Kyra screamed. She rushed across the room, falling to her knees as she huddled on the floor next to her mother, not caring that she was sitting in a pool of her mother’s blood. Dylan ripped Liz’s shirt open, trying desperately to locate all her wounds. The attack had been brutal, almost mindless, in its ferocity.

  He grabbed several kitchen towels and firmly pressed them against the stab wounds on her abdomen. There were too many wounds to count, and from his experience, it didn’t look good. So much blood had already been lost. Swallowing the lump rising in his throat, he knew he had to stay strong for Kyra. She had already lost her father, and now this had to happen. He had no idea if she was strong enough to handle this much horro
r.

  Dylan gently placed Kyra’s hand on the towels that were covering her mother’s abdomen. “Kyra,” he said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible, “Press as hard as you can. It should help to slow the bleeding. I have to call 911. Do you understand?”

  Kyra nodded, unable to speak.

  Liz Michaels was knocking on death’s door when they had arrived and she wasn’t out of the woods yet. She had lost so much blood that Dylan could barely believe she was still alive. The ambulance was on its way and he hoped like hell that they could make it before it was too late.

  Kyra held her mother tight. “Mom, please don’t leave me. I love you so much. Please, Mom, don’t go.”

  Liz was in terrible pain, but she had to speak to her daughter. She had so much to say to her beautiful baby girl and feared not having the time. “Kyra,” she gasped, “I… so many… secrets. Don’t… trust the cops.”

  “Mom! Oh God! Please don’t die. I can’t lose you too!” she sobbed.

  “Love him with all of your heart,” Liz whispered, raising her hand to touch Kyra’s cheek. “Dylan’s… home” She closed her eyes and drew her final breath in her daughter’s arms.

  “Mom!” Kyra screamed. “No!”

  Kyra sobbed uncontrollably. Sirens screamed as they approached the house. She grasped her mother’s lifeless limp body tighter, rocking back and forth. Eyes closed to the world around her, she prayed a silent prayer for her parents and vowed to never stop searching for the men responsible. Anger and rage filled her like never before. She wanted answers and she wanted justice. She was lost in a tumultuous wave of sorrow so strong that her body shook from the fierceness of it all. She had been through so much already. Losing both of her parents in a matter of days was too much for anyone. Her life was changed forever because of two acts of seemingly mindless violence.

  Dylan rounded the corner, frozen at the sight before him. He knelt down beside her, wanting so much to take her pain away. Putting his arms around her, he consoled her as best he could. At that moment, he decided he would do whatever it took to ease not only her pain but the anger and loneliness that would follow. There wasn’t anything he could say to make this better but he could make sure the people who did this paid.

  The sirens grew closer, and then flashing red lights could be seen through the windows in the front of the house. A few minutes later, emergency technicians stepped through the kitchen door, taking in the gruesome scene before them. The cops came in moments later, taking photos and asking questions, and finally releasing the body to the EMTs.

  Dylan didn’t expect much from this group of cops. He knew they were as dirty as the landfill just past the county line. He had his work cut out for him now, that was for damn sure. Two murders. A score of dirty cops. A town once beautiful and pure now tainted with crime and lies.

  The first thing he had to do was get Kyra somewhere safe. For some reason, her family seemed to have gotten wrapped up in a nightmare and he didn’t want it to touch his Kyra.

  His Kyra?

  If Liz had been targeted, it was highly possible that Kyra would be next. A shudder raked through his body, tightening his muscles painfully as he looked at the chaos around them. He damn sure wouldn’t let her be harmed on his watch. “Kyra, you can’t stay here tonight. Let’s grab some of your clothes and get you cleaned up at the office.”

  “Why… why is this happening to my family, Dylan?” she asked between strangled sobs.

  He didn’t have the answers she needed, but he would find them if it was the last thing he did. “I promise I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said. “I won’t give up until I find the truth. I’ll never give up.”

  Dylan helped Kyra retrieve her belongings from upstairs and load them into her car, helping her into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel. She looked at him curiously.

  “We need to get you out of those bloody clothes and you don’t need to worry about driving or anything else right now. Jake can bring me back later to get my bike.

  She nodded, too exhausted – too stressed – to object. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, wishing she could open them and discover this was just a bad dream. She thought about the way Dylan looked at her, with concern… and possibly something else. Okay, she didn’t want it all to be a dream.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jake looked up, shocked to see Dylan carrying Kyra through the door, almost falling out of his chair. Their clothes were soaked in blood. The sorrowful look upon Kyra’s face indicated that whatever had happened was really bad. He shot out of his chair and locked the front door, closing up shop for the rest of the day. He knew Dylan would want to talk strategy as soon as Kyra was settled.

  He watched as Dylan slowly carried Kyra down the hall to the back of the office, disappearing into the small makeshift apartment in the rear of the office. It wasn’t much, but it sure helped to have a place to crash when their caseload was heavy. The guys often found themselves in sticky situations that required a lot of their time… and this was beginning to look like one of those times.

  Dylan eased Kyra into the tiny apartment realizing that she was emotionally spent. “Kyra, the shower is right through that door.” He pointed towards the bathroom door, hoping that a warm shower would ease the tension weighing on her. “Take your time and get yourself cleaned up. I’ll check on you in a minute.”

  Kyra stood frozen, as if she hadn’t heard a word he had said. Dylan trembled as he looked at the broken woman before him. She had endured a lot in a short amount of time, more horror than anyone should have to deal with in a lifetime. Seeing her like this broke his heart. She looked so fragile. Shattered.

  He placed his arm around her petite shoulders and helped her to the bathroom. Once inside he eased the door closed. She just stood there, unmoving, her eyes dull with shock. He carefully gripped the hem of her snug fitting t-shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing a pink bra stained with blood. His fingers found the clasp and snapped it free, letting the bra fall from her slim shoulders, revealing her perky breasts. Her breath hitched at the feel of his touch on her skin.

  Dylan placed a large warm hand on her hip to steady her as he unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her slim gorgeous legs. He glanced up into those enchanting green eyes, wishing he could join her in the shower but knowing this was far from a good time. She needed his trust and friendship, not the lust that was thrumming like a hurricane inside him.

  Taking a deep breath and holding it for what seemed like forever, he kept his eyes at her feet counting slowly to ten before letting it out, hoping his head would clear, allowing him to find the restraint he desperately needed. He didn’t want to stare at her nakedness. It just wasn’t right and it made him feel dirty considering the situation. Enjoying this was wrong. He knew that. He reached for her tiny pink panties and carefully slid them down her body, easing one foot free of her clothing and then the other. Feeling guilty for having lustful thoughts at a moment like this, he pushed the urges aside and helped her into the shower.

  Kyra huddled under the warm spray, taking the washcloth Dylan handed her. He turned away, disappearing from the bathroom. Her movements were slow and robotic as she began washing away the blood that had already begun to dry on her skin. She collapsed onto the shower floor, crying. The choking sobs had taken over her body, barely allowing her to catch her breath. She couldn’t feel anything anymore. She had nothing else to lose. The darkness Dylan talked about earlier in the day had taken everything from her. In one week, she had managed to lose her entire family.

  Before she could collect her thoughts and get herself together, she heard a knock on the bathroom door. Not ready to face the world yet, she drew her knees to her chest and fell to pieces all over again. A few seconds later, the bathroom door eased open.

  “Kyra, are you alright?” Dylan asked.

  “I just need a few more minutes,” Kyra mumbled between sobs.

  “Sure. I just wanted to check on you.” Dylan responded
with a soft tone as he closed the door.

  Kyra shook her head, stunned that she had let him undress her. In that moment, she had fought an internal battle… and let the darker side of herself win that battle. She had let him undress her, let him see her as no other man had. She had no regrets; not really. But she so wanted to feel his hands on her flesh once more. In all her fantasies, she had never once imagined anyone but him seeing her naked flesh. But not like this. Not when she was so very separated from her body, unable to register his touch, unable to enjoy the pleasure of being so close to him.

  Then, like a freight train, the memory of her mother lying dead in her arms slammed into her and guilt followed. Kyra felt disgusted for thinking of herself, felt dirty. Shame coated her so thickly even the warmth of the shower couldn’t wash it away. She deserved to feel shamed after letting her lustful thoughts take center-stage after the loss of her mom.

  Regaining control, Kyra eased herself out of the shower and dried off. Dylan had brought her bag into the bathroom for her, and – not caring what she looked like – she threw on her comfy jogging pants and an Old Navy T-shirt. She ran a brush through her tangled brunette mane, pulling it into a quick ponytail.

  Slowly, almost reluctantly, she exited the tiny bathroom. Dylan sat on the couch against the wall. “Feeling a little better?” he asked.

  “Not really,” she mumbled. The tiny apartment didn’t offer a lot of seating choices so Kyra sat next to Dylan. He pulled her into his side, and she leaned farther into him, laying her head on his shoulder. The embrace comforted both of them at that moment. After a few minutes, Dylan slowly and hesitantly pulled away, remembering he needed to get a shower too. Kyra watched as he slipped into the bathroom, the door clicking behind him.