Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [156]
Seeing them destroying each other took its toll on Jules and her half sister. And the aftermath of Rip’s death had been worse. Jules had scrapped her plans of moving away to college and had forced Trent from her life. Shay had started getting into trouble at school, and Edie…Edie had nearly lost it, falling into a horrible depression that had only lifted with the advent of Grant Sykes into her life. She’d felt a failure with two divorces, widowhood, and the loss of any considerations of wealth. Max Stillman was determined that she never get one more dime of his money to the point that he’d nearly turned his back completely on his own daughter, doting instead on Max Junior. So they’d both lost their fathers that night. Though Shay’s relationship had always been tenuous with Max, Rip had doted on Jules. Once Rip was killed, the murderer, a robber who had taken his wallet and fled in smooth-soled, size 12 shoes, according to partial impressions in the mud, their lives had changed forever. Had it been random? A business partner who had been taken? The husband of one of Rip’s girlfriends finally taking revenge?
No one knew.
All in all, it had been a disaster, the night of Rip Delaney’s death changing the course of Jules’s life and haunting her dreams.
“I think,” she said, blinking in the darkness, “the nightmare is never going to go away. It’ll always be with me.”
“Hey.” Trent’s voice was low. Steady. “I’m here.”
She snorted a laugh, finding a hint of macabre humor in his single statement. “And?”
“And this time I’m not going away.”
A lump formed in her throat, and she let his strong arms comfort her. “Even if I push?” she asked.
“Especially then.”
“Need I remind you that ‘here’ is in the middle of a madhouse of a boarding school where people are being killed?”
“It won’t always be this way.” God, he said it with such conviction.
Jules wanted to take comfort in his strong belief, she supposed, but it was difficult. As she roused and the nightmare skittered away to hide in the murky corners of her mind, she was faced with what she and Trent had discovered in Lynch’s partially burnt files. Also, now there was the heart-jarring realization that she’d made love to Cooper Trent again.
As quick as lightning, she’d slid willingly between the sheets of the ex–bull rider’s bed, and they had become lovers again in a heart beat.
She hadn’t even put up a fight, and then had fallen asleep in his arms.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
What was wrong with her?
Had she just taken solace and comfort for a few hours? Needed a reaffirmation of life and love in the middle of this chaos?
What an inane rationale.
Sleeping with him would help nothing. Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she fought them back. “You’re a fool, Cooper Trent.”
“At the very least.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” He kissed her then, his lips claiming hers, and she felt as if she’d finally come home. She felt the heat of his body, the pounding of his heart, the sheer strength of him.
“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “I blamed you for something that didn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Water under the bridge.”
“No, it’s not. I think what scared me the most back then was how much I depended on you, how much I loved you.”
“Tell ya what,” he suggested, and she almost felt him smile in the darkness. “Let’s give it another go.”
She cleared her throat. “I don’t know how that will work.”
“As my father used to say, we’ll make it work. He was a firm believer in positive thinking. So am I.” He squeezed her and kissed her forehead again, and for a second in the darkness, she trusted that things would be all right, that they actually had a chance to overcome this nightmare they were living in.
“Listen.”
She did, and over the pounding of her heart, she heard