Page 25 of Fatal Vision
Enjoying the soft feel of her body against his, he carefully climbed the stairs to their bedroom.
The third step from the top squeaked and he hesitated for a second, a grin of familiarity spreading across his face. How many times had he chased Shelby up these stairs? How many times had he heard that squeak when she’d brought him coffee at zero dark thirty in the morning?
She sighed softly, snuggling her head into his shoulder, fingers clasping his shirt like a child clutching a teddy bear. Her hair smelled like lilacs and gardenias, another blow to his senses. In his lower regions, his cock woke with gleeful abandon, shoving itself against his zipper.
Salisbury clambered up the stairs, passing him and jetting for the bedroom. Colton managed to climb the final few steps, ignoring the tightness in his jeans, and followed.
Late evening sun graced the southern facing window, spreading a soft glowing light on the king size bed. The comforter was the same blue and white quilt, although now a dog decorated the center star. Colton deftly flipped the corner of the quilt back and eased Shelby onto the bed.
She half-woke again, shifting herself on the pillow and shooting him a loopy grin before resuming her snoring. Salisbury cuddled next to her, dropping off to sleep just as fast.
The bedside table held a lamp and a couple of well-worn nonfiction books on serial killers. A pair of house slippers were tucked near the end of the bed.
He turned to survey the rest of the room and his heart stuttered for a moment as he saw the framed photo on top of the chest of drawers.
It was from their honeymoon on the shores of St. Croix. Colton crossed the room, touching the picture of the two of them laughing, noses sunburned and umbrella drinks in their hands. The beautiful water sparkled behind them.
God, they’d been so happy once. So alive with each other. For the hundredth time, Colton wondered how he could have done things differently. Not just that one moment inside a 12 September compound, but a hundred others leading up to that. If he’d only realized then, on his honeymoon, how precious love and laughter with this woman really was.
The dragon chuckled, laying its massive, fire-breathing head down as it closed its eyes.
Shelby, Salisbury, and the dragon all snored. For now, it was best he let sleeping federal agents, as well as his beast, sleep.
Giving his beauty queen one more look, he left her alone and went downstairs to find some shut eye for himself.
ARUMBLING NOISEwoke her from a deep sleep. At first, Shelby thought it was thunder.
As the sound weakened, then quit completely, she roused herself up onto an elbow, realizing she was in bed. Her own sweet king size bed. Not the one at the therapy center.
Car doors slammed outside. The hinge on the front screen rasped as someone opened it.
Shelby pushed herself into an upright position, her legs heavy and unmoving. A scruffy face stared up at her, Salisbury weighing down the blanket over her legs.
Voices sounded from the front porch—Colton and her dad’s, rising in argument. Her mother’s trying to soothe them.
The last few hours came back in a haze. Her short-term memory took a few minutes to come online these days.
As the argument became more heated outside, she moved Salisbury and slid her legs out from under the blanket, steadying herself on the edge of the bed. A warm sensation flooded her body…an impression of strong arms and the comforting sound of Colton’s heartbeat.
Fragments of how she’d ended up here played hopscotch in her mind. He’d carried her upstairs. Put her to bed. The far off whisper ofI love youteased the edges of her memory. Had he whispered it after he’d tucked her in a few hours ago, or was it a latent memory of an easier, gentler time?
Her walker was next to the nightstand. Grabbing it, she brought it close, took a steadying breath under the watchful eyes of the dog, and hauled herself to standing.
Salisbury jumped up and barked, turning a circle in the tangled bed sheets. Was he congratulating her? Egging her on?
Or was she simply losing it?
Since she’d woken six weeks ago, it seemed like everyone had done nothing but encourage and prod her to do more. Maybe she was projecting onto the innocent dog.
Shaking her head, she slid the walker across the floor and coerced her leg to come with her. It didn’t exactly rush to catch up, but it did manage to tag along.
Slide, pull. Slide, pull.
The window revealed the front yard and driveway. Colton was trying to keep his voice down, but it wasn’t working under her father’s domineering anger. Leaning forward, she saw Colton standing on the top step, blocking her mother and father from the porch. Daniel Mitchum’s blond hair shone in the dying sunlight as he stood behind them, a Bible in his hands.
“Keep your voice down,” Colton said, arms crossed, his stance one that brooked no argument. “She’s sleeping, which is exactly what she needs.”
“Don’t tell me what my daughter needs,” her dad countered. “I’ve taken care of her for twenty-eight years. You had no right to remove her from the facility.”
