“All right,” Tory said with a sigh. “You win this time. But don’t get used to it.”

“Not a chance.” KT kissed Tory’s forehead. “Thanks.”

Arm in arm, they walked into the house.

“Come back to bed, baby,” Caroline said softly. Neither she nor Bri had wanted to go home, so they’d bunked in the first-floor guest room at Tory’s.

“In a second,” Bri said, standing naked in the shadows by the window looking out. The low murmur of voices outside on the deck had drawn her from bed, and now she watched KT and Tory disappear into the other part of the house. After a second, she slid back into bed, propped some pillows behind her back, and pulled Caroline into her arms.

“If we split up, would you still love me?” Bri asked, combing her fingers slowly through Caroline’s hair.

Caroline drew her leg up over Bri’s and rubbed her palm over Bri’s abdomen. “No, because you’d be dead.”

Bri laughed. “How do you know I’d be the one who left?”

“Because I know.” Caroline shifted on top of Bri and kissed her. “Besides the fact that you’re the sexiest girl I’ve ever seen, so why would I leave you for sex that wasn’t as good, I love you.”

Even before she’d come back to bed, Bri had wanted to make love. She’d hungered to feel Caroline, to know that she was there and wouldn’t leave her, that the person she counted on most in life wouldn’t disappear. She’d had an ache deep inside all night, a burning urgency to touch and be touched, to feel Caroline arch beneath her hands and come with a cry against her mouth. She was wet and hard, wanting her.

I love you, Carre had said.

Bri had never quite been able to believe her luck, never quite gotten over worrying that Caroline would find someone else…someone stronger, someone braver, someone better.

I love you.

Suddenly the enormity of how much she needed that love washed over her, and out of nowhere came the tears. Bri buried her face in the soft warm curve of Caroline’s neck and cried.

“Oh, hey. Baby.” Caroline wrapped her arms around Bri and held her as tightly as she could. She didn’t tell her not to cry, because it was such a rare event for Bri that she knew it must be necessary. Instead she murmured, over and over, “I love you. I love you so much. Don’t worry, Reese will come home. It’s all right, baby. Everything is going to be all right.”

“Fuck,” Bri gasped, finally pulling away. “Oh man, Carre, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Caroline stroked the tears from Bri’s face. “For not being tough all the time? For letting me take care of you?” She punched Bri lightly on the arm. “I’m a lot stronger than you think.”

“I know.” Bri heaved a deep breath and felt her insides settle. She brushed Caroline’s hair back from her face, then traced her thumb over Caroline’s mouth. “I know just how strong you are. Sometimes, I wonder why you’re even with m…”

“Baby. Shut up.” Caroline sealed her mouth to Bri’s, plunging her tongue between her lips while she snaked a hand between them and into Bri’s crotch. She gave a deep murmur of approval when she found her hot and wet and open. She didn’t wait but slid through the heat and inside her.

Bri jerked and moaned and writhed while Caroline drove into her and drove out her fears and her uncertainties. When she came, stifling her cries against Caroline’s breast, Caroline whispered, “I love you.”

While all around her was chaos, Bri clung to Caroline and let their love be her strength.

Carter came awake to a world of pain. Something warm and thick ran down her forehead, into her eyes. Blood. She recognized it from the smell. When she tried to raise her arm to wipe it away, she couldn’t. She blinked and her vision swam.

“Fuck.”

She turned her head and vomited.

Bits and pieces of the beating came back to her. She was still on the stairs. It was dark. Still night. How much time had passed? Her ears were ringing. She tried hard to listen for sounds in the alley. She thought she was alone. Had they gone? She was dead if they came back now.

She struggled to isolate her pain. Shoulder. Hand. Stomach. Back. She took a breath. Hurt. Not too bad though. She shifted her legs. Knees were okay. Sweat broke out on her face, ran down her back. Cold, sick sweat.

She wasn’t certain she could feel her hands and feet. Hard to tell through the agony that screamed along her nerve endings every time she moved. Had to get up. Inside. Call Kevin.

Rica. Jesus, Rica. Sickness flooded her. If they’d touched her. Kill them.

“Time to get up,” she gasped.

She got one hand braced against the stairs but when she tried to push upright, the world did a slow circle in front of her eyes. She vomited again, slumped over, and passed out.

Just before dawn, Rica gave up her restless battle with sleep and dragged herself from bed. She showered, hoping to wash the weariness from her mind as well as her body. She felt more awake afterward, but no less sad.

What she needed was coffee and work. Dwelling on mistakes was not her nature. She had done her duty, although it seemed her father already knew something of what was happening. Still, now she could forget about Carter and all the rest of it.

Feeling resolved if not particularly better, she dressed casually in jeans and a blouse for a day of office work and went downstairs. When she opened the kitchen door, an envelope that had been pushed into the space between the door and the jamb fluttered to the deck.

With trembling hands, she opened it and extracted a Polaroid photograph.

“Oh my God,” she moaned.

She dropped the photo in horror and raced from the house.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Rica’s lifelong vigilance against doing anything that might attract the attention of the police prevented her from speeding down Bradford, despite her frenzy to get to Carter’s apartment. The image in the Polaroid print kept flashing through her mind. The harsh light had captured Carter’s unconscious body with brutal clarity. With her eyes closed and uneven trails of blood streaming down her face, Carter looked smaller, broken. She might have been dead.

No. No, of course she isn’t. That’s impossible. They wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

She had no idea who had ordered the retaliation. It might have been Enzo, furious at having been physically rebuffed by Rica and bested by a woman whom Rica favored over him. That seemed most likely, but she couldn’t help wondering if it had been her father’s order that had resulted in the devastation. She couldn’t allow herself to believe that. She couldn’t believe that one person she loved could do that to another she lov…

No. That’s not what I feel for her. It isn’t. It can’t be.

Feeling physically ill with apprehension at what she might find, Rica careened into the alley next to Carter’s building. Carter’s Explorer was there. She slammed to a stop behind it, jumped out, and started for the stairs. Then she saw her.

“Oh my God, Carter,” she cried, rushing forward. When she reached her, she wasn’t sure if she should touch her. Carter lay as she had in the photograph, her legs on the ground and her upper body twisted sideways on the stairs. There was blood on her face and her clothes and on the stairs. For one terrible moment, Rica feared she really was dead. Moaning, she whispered Carter’s name again and tentatively touched her cheek. Her skin was warm, and Rica felt a flood of relief.

“Carter?”

Carter twitched.

“Oh thank God.” Rica fell to her knees beside her and stroked her face. “Carter. Carter, darling. Can you hear me?”

Carter’s eyelids fluttered and she groaned.

Rica looked over her shoulder toward the street, wondering if anyone could see them now that the sun had risen. She wanted to go for help, but it was so hard to break the habits of a lifetime. She hesitated to involve the authorities when she wasn’t certain what had happened. She was relieved to see that they were still alone.

“Rica,” Carter whispered.

Rica felt almost dizzy as a tiny bit of her fear subsided. “Oh, Carter. What happe…”

“Go…away.” Carter tried to turn onto her back, but the motion sent a shaft of pain through her. She groaned again and lay still, breathing heavily. “Not safe here.”

“Don’t be silly,” Rica said sharply, fear and fury warring within her. She wanted to kill whoever had done this. She’d never felt such hatred in her life. “You need help. I’m going to call for EMTs.”

“No. Don’t.” With supreme effort, Carter rolled over onto her back and fought to bring Rica’s face into focus. “Help me upstairs.”

“You need a doctor.”

“I’ll be okay.” She could breathe, she could see, and most of her parts were working. She could even finally think a little. Carter was pretty sure nothing was irreparably damaged, but she didn’t know if her late-night visitors were still lurking around. She didn’t want Rica endangered. “Go. Please.”

“No. I need to find a phone.” Rica was frightened by how pale Carter looked and how much blood had pooled beneath her face on the stairs.

“My cell. Belt,” Carter whispered. “Need to…call my…partner.”

Rica checked Carter’s belt, but there was nothing there. “It’s gone. Maybe it fell off when they…” Pressing her lips tightly together, Rica peered into the alley and underneath the stairs. She saw Carter’s phone and retrieved it.

“My gun. Lost it.”

“I didn’t see it.” Rica looked again, even bending down to search underneath Carter’s vehicle, but she couldn’t find it.

Carter closed her eyes, exhausted.

“Carter?” Rica knelt again. “Darling?”

“Sounds good,” Carter muttered.

Rica smiled unsteadily and caressed Carter’s shoulder. “It’s going to be all right.”

Carter opened her eyes and braced her good hand against the stairs. She was weak, but some of the nausea had subsided. “Help me up.”