Page 33 of Triple Threat

The pool was encased in a glass and steel structure, old-fashioned, like a pagoda, the glass crystal clear with a view of a surrounding patio. A low rock retaining wall was beyond it and beyond that? The trim mansion lawn and gardens sweeping to a terraced bluff that had paths that wound down to the beach along the bay. The doors leading outside to that patio were predictably chained shut but so far? Of all the places in the house I had explored to date? This was the closest to tasting freedom.

I stared out of those windows, the glass dark, and felt my fingers unfurl. I took the next step down into the water, and it climbed almost to my knees.

Warm, so warm…

I remembered the weightlessness the water brought me as a child, as I lay back, breathing deep and even and I wanted that. Imissedthat. That feeling of being lighter than air, of being supported, of my mother and father at hand to catch me and raise me up should I sink.

I wanted to capture that feeling again. I wanted to drift away from my nightmares, away from thiswakingnightmare…

I took the last step into the water and took a sharp breath. The water was as warm as a bath. I waded out; my hands raised until I felt the bottom slope from beneath my feet. I turned around and tipped back, my hands slipping to my sides, my eyes closing and I caught that weightless feeling.

I lay back, the light silk of my dress clinging to me, a second skin, and I put my arms out, imagining I was flying. Flying far, far, away from this gilded cage with all its wickedness and death.

The sensation of free floating took my breath away at first, and then that was all I could hear as the water rushed into my ears and muted everything. Just silence, the sound of my own breath, and if I happened to raise my hand from the pool, the light tinkling of the water streaming from my fingertips to drip back into the body of water.

I lay in that water’s embrace and let go of the here and now and went to live some other place in memory and imagination.

I don’t know what it was that finally had me open my eyes, but when I did, the light of the pool was cast against an angelic face. One I recognized from the not so distant past. I sucked in a sharp breath and cried out, wavering, nearly going under, but then there was a strong arm beneath my shoulders to catch me, his other hand pressing me to stillness against my chest, between my breasts.

“Relax, Shady… it’s just me. Shhh…” His voice was muffled, but it washis, just deeper, more masculine.We weren’t teenagers anymore.

What had he called me?Shady?Ugh… I hadn’t heard that name inyearsand I would have been perfectly happy to let it die.

“Relax,” he ordered. “I’ve got you, Shady.”

I stared up into Kyle’s face, older, wiser, that same scar in his left eyebrow, those same lush lips curving into a wicked, devil-may-care smile, and I forgot to breathe.

“That’s it,” he said with a dark chuckle, then his equally dark eyes swept over me from head to foot.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice muffled, very nearly indiscernible were I not adept at reading lips. A habit you learned when you lived on the streets among mentally ill men who whispered and muttered to themselves, or rather to the voices in their heads. Any advanced warning was better than nothing when they thought you were some sort of government plant or dark angel sent to harm them.

I searched his face, looking for answers toso many questionswhen it clicked.

Not Lock…Lach.

Kyle Lachlan wasLach… the man on the screen shooting all those people.

I scrambled out of his embrace and backed off, chest heaving, feeling as though I couldn’t get a breath.

“Oh, I see, figured it out, have you?” he asked and he bowed his head, smiling almost ruefully but with this edge of such…I don’t know… but the look made my stomach flip.

“Kyle?”I asked, aghast.

“Hello, Sadie.”

I put my hands to my churning stomach and swallowed back bile.

“Why?” I demanded.

He lowered his hands to his sides. He was dressed too. White dress shirt, open at the collar, clinging to his body, which was obviously muscular. I believe the term wasshredded. Black business-like belt and black slacks, same dark hair and smoldering eyes just set in a slightly older face… like mine…not kids anymore…

“Why not?” he asked. “You’re warm, you’re safe, you’re fed…”

I shook my head, eyes brimming with tears and I couldn’t get any other words out. All I could do was let the same one fall.

“Why?”

He smiled then and it was a thing of pure evil, I swear. He moved toward me and I stumbled back, turning to the side. He didn’t approach me, though. He was headed for the stairs.

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