Epilogue
From time to time, Nic caught a
glimpse, in her rearview mirror, of the black Hummer that had
followed her from Griffin’s Rest. When she stopped at a gas station
just outside Pigeon Forge, Cully Redmond pulled into the parking
area and waited for her.
Now, for the past few miles on her
drive up the mountain to the beautiful, secluded cabin Griff had
given her as a Christmas gift, she hadn’t seen Cully’s Hummer.
Apparently, he had dropped back out of sight to allow her time to
arrive at the cabin and get settled in before he parked outside to
keep watch over her. No doubt, Griff would send another agent to
relieve him in the morning and the two would change shifts every
eight hours.
She parked the Escalade in the circular
drive, got out, grabbed her suitcase from the back, and walked up
to the front door. She drew in a deep breath of crisp, fresh
mountain air. She unlocked the door and walked into the foyer. The
cabin was so quiet, so peaceful, unlike the daily chaotic noise
that had plagued Griffin’s Rest recently.
After shoving her suitcase into the
master bedroom closet, Nic walked through the living room and
opened the door leading out onto the back deck. She went over to
the edge of the wooden deck, clasped the top of the carved
guardrail, and looked out at the breathtaking view below, the lush
green hills and valleys.
Griff lied to me about
his relationship with Yvette. He did have sex with
her.
But they were never
lovers. Griff said that what happened between them wasn’t really
even sex.
Maybe it wasn’t, but I
know one thing for sure—Griff loves Yvette.
He loves her because of
the hell they shared, because of the torture they endured
together.
He loves her because he
may be the father of her child.
Nic laid her hand protectively over her
belly.
She heard the sound of a car door
slamming. Cully Redmond must have arrived. He probably needed to
stretch his legs.
With her hand still resting over the
tiny life just beginning to grow inside her, Nic jerked around when
she heard a noise. Sound echoed in the empty stillness of her
mountain retreat, so she wasn’t surprised that she could hear
footsteps on the front porch.
Damn it, she had told Griff
specifically that she wanted to be left alone.
Don’t bite Cully’s head
off. Just tell him you’re fine and for him to report to Griff that
you arrived here safely.
Nic went back into the cabin and made
it halfway across the living room when the front door opened.
Great! Cully would be sure to tell Griff that she’d left the door
unlocked. How could she have been so careless?
With “get out and leave me alone” on
the tip of her tongue, Nic stopped dead still when a man she didn’t
know walked into her cabin. This was definitely not Cully Redmond.
And he wasn’t another Powell agent.
“Who are you? What do you
want?”
When he simply stared at her, Nic stood
her ground.
Show no
fear.
“I’m expecting someone any minute now,”
she told him. “I didn’t travel alone.”
“If you’re expecting the man driving
the black Hummer, then you’re going to be disappointed. I’m afraid
he’s been delayed. Permanently delayed.”
Fear clutched Nic’s gut. Had this man
killed Cully?
“I don’t know what you want,
Mr.—?”
“Where are my manners,” the man said, a
bonechilling smile curving his lips. “Let me introduce myself, Mrs.
Powell. I’m Anthony Linden.”
“That’s not possible. Anthony Linden is
dead.”
“Yes, I know. And so is Malcolm York.
And yet here I am, in the flesh, come to take you to see another
dead man. Mr. York is eager to meet you.”