Page 102 of A Little Naughty

The noise of a shot rings out, but I don’t feel anything. I close my eyes, and cool white light washes over me.

CHAPTER29

JEMIMA

The jessamine seems to have gotten fuller overnight, almost like it knows today is Valentine’s Day.

Soft yellow blossoms greet me with wide open faces, filling every possible space from the flower boxes down the fence post. I can’t see the green leaves or even the stems for the abundance of flowers.

When I stood out here, watching as Raif planted them for me, he said they were native flowers. He said they could withstand the elements, the heat, the wind, and the rain—anything nature might throw at them wouldn’t matter. They would grow happy and strong because they know how to survive in this environment, he said.

He also said the yellow flowers reminded him of my hair and my smile, bright sunshine, full of hope, never giving up no matter what life throws at me. He slid his dirt-covered finger across my cheek, and of course, it made me smile.

“I love to see you smile,” he’d said, and I’d said something about him getting me dirty.

Sitting on my butt with my back pressed to the fence, I close my eyes and try to picture the dimple in his cheek, the twinkle in his eye when he looks at me in his bad-boy way, like he knows he owns me.

I try to reach out and thread my fingers through his soft hair. I think of our first meeting when he’d saidhewas the breaking news. I remember his fierce protection when Ethan McClure threatened us.

He defied the negative stereotypes and the prejudices. He was strong, a fighter, yet he handled me gently, like one of his flowers. He loved me like a fiery volcano, like I’ve never been loved…

I only want to hold onto the good, but the flashing lights blast through my memory. The fear freezing in my veins as he struggles on the floor, inky blood spreading around him in a circle, fighting for life.Towels… the gun.Give me the gun!

The door opens slowly and terror squeezes my throat at Bill’s glittering eyes. He’s no longer the shadow man. Now he’s the angel of death.

But I won’t let that happen. I won’t let him win. It’s over, and I said if he ever came back, I’d kill him. Lifting the cold metal in my hands, my eyes squeeze shut as my finger squeezes the trigger…

Exploding gunshots, the stench of weapons and blood, shouting voices and blaring sirens roar in my ears. I’m pushed aside and told to get back, get out of the way, let them do their work. Plastic gloves and white masks and EMS officers running back and forth, in and out, and I shrink smaller and smaller into the background, pushed out the door.

The colors are midnight blue and deep red; purple fading to orange in the growing light of dawn. Then came the silence.

Pounding silence after they left, taking him away, and leaving me here.

Alone.

A shudder moves through my chest. My skin is cold in the rising sun, but my nose is hot from crying. Streams of tears warm my cheeks. Beside me the yellow flowers hang their heads, wet with dew, mourning with me.

Wrapping my arms around my bent knees, I try to remember the gold of that sunset covering the beach. Our sunset, when I rode the bike behind him, my arms outstretched in aV.

It was our beginning. We were stars burning in the sky, hot as fire and so, so beautiful.

My fingertips are cold when I touch them to my cheeks. When I close my eyes, more warmth falls.

For a little while, I was the happiest girl in the world, the luckiest. He was my bad boy, and I was his bad girl.

Only, we weren’t bad. We were just a little naughty.

He was my husband, and I never told him how much I love him.

“Let me search here, and I’ll call you back.” The familiar voice is loud in the quiet, and I look up to see the wooden gate wobble back and forth. “Open, dammit!”

Blinking through tears, it’s Dolly Parton. Blinking again, I realize it’s Monay trying to work the latch on the gate with her ultra-long acrylic nails. The wooden door opens, and she pushes through, stumbling a bit in her heels before pushing it shut with her butt.

“Thank goodness that dog isn’t here.” She looks around and down, and as soon as her eyes land on me, she yelps. “Jemima! Good lord, girl, we’ve been looking for you everywhere. We’re all waking up, finding out all hell broke loose after we just left… What are you doing hiding out here?”

“I’m not hiding.” I try to speak, but my voice is gone.

It comes out more like a frog is in my throat.

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