Covered In Lace

chapter SEVENTEEN

Flynn bolted upstairs to his bedroom and pulled the rifle from the back corner of his closet, then took the box of shells from a shoe box on the top shelf and loaded the gun. He filled his pockets with as many shells as he could and ran back to the kitchen. He stopped by a window and listened. He could hear Lacey's screams but they seemed muffled; further away. He didn't like the first thought that entered his head or the visual of Earl in the back of the house in Lacey's bedroom.

He jumped from the back porch of his house and darted across the driveway, taking shelter at the corner of the barn. He took a breath then ran along the side of it, then jumped behind a row of tall arborvitaes. The trees had been planted as privacy from the road traffic. He was using them now to shield himself from a deranged psychopath. He couldn't believe this had become his life, couldn't believe he was charging across his property, gun in hand, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and all to try and protect the woman he loved.

But, he wouldn't have it any other way and he'd do that and more – if need be. He loved Lacey so completely he was willing to do just about anything for her; including killing someone that was threatening her life.

He reached the edge of the hedges and stopped. He'd have to run across several feet of open lawn before he made it to the relative safety of her cottage. From there he'd have to figure out where Earl was holding Lacey and plan his best point of entry.

There was no turning back now. It was clear Earl meant to harm Lacey and possibly kill her, in his revenge scheme against Annie. Flynn intended to stop that from happening, even if it meant getting killed himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was ready to run full throttle across the lawn when his cell phone started vibrating.





Earl attached the second handcuff to Lacey's wrist and slapped her hard on the face when she persisted in struggling with him.

“Sure is convenient you'd have this kinky handcuff system attached to yer bed,” Earl said. He forcefully grabbed her leg and attached another cuff to the ankle. Soon she'd be spread-eagled for him; a thought that sparked more than an idle interest for him. He could always f*ck her once, just to kill time until Annie arrived. That might be fun, he thought.

“When'll Annie be joining our little party?” he asked. He reached for Lacey's other leg and she tried to kick him away.

“She's not coming,” Lacey spat.

Earl gripped at her ankle; his fingers pressing into the flesh, and Lacey cried out in pain.

“Yer lying,” he snarled, clicking the last handcuff to her ankle.

“She's on the road touring, you lunatic!”

Earl swung hard and caught Lacey's jaw with the back of his hand, making her head jerk to the side. Then he climbed up on top of her, straddling her hips. Lacey began squirming and pulling on the restraints holding her in place. He laughed at her efforts and bent forward.

The smell of him was making her stomach churn. She twisted her head on the pillow when she saw him bending closer; the freakish sneer on his face made her blood run cold. She could feel the beginnings of his erection pressing into her pubic bone and fear swept through her. Dear God, she could not let him touch her and she'd die trying to stop him. Where the hell was Flynn – or the police? What was taking everyone so long to save her?

Earl reached for the hand gun on the nightstand beside the bed and ran the cool metal barrel across her cheek and lips. “Fight all you want, you stupid bitch,” he said. “But I can do anything I want to you right now. An-nah-thing.”

He tried to kiss her and Lacey started thrashing her head wildly and screaming out. He caught her face in his hand, covering her mouth with his palm, and pinched with force until she stilled. He dropped his weight to his elbows; his belly pressed to hers, and started rocking against her.

“See that?” he asked. “The more you fight, the harder I get.” He licked her cheek and Lacey began to whimper. “Keep at it and I'll be forced to use it on you. And you don't want that, do you?”

Lacey shook her head.

“Then, tell me the f*cking truth,” he said, his mouth only a few inches from hers. “Where's your whore friend?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed out fresh tears. “Touring.”

“I bet if you called her and asked nicely she'd come back,” he said.

Her head ached. She didn't like the idea of deliberately dragging Annie into harm's way like this, but she didn't want to die at the hands of Earl Fisher, either. If nothing else, maybe calling Annie would stall Earl and offer her the opportunity to alert her friend of the life-or-death situation she was in.

“I can try,” Lacey finally said.

Earl climbed off the bed and Lacey gulped in fresh air, relieved to have his stench away from her nose and his weight off of her, too. She watched him leave the bedroom and return a few minutes later with her cell phone.

He stood beside the bed and hit a series of buttons on the phone, found Annie's name listed in Lacey's contacts and hit the dial button. He waited for it to start ringing and pressed the phone up to Lacey's ear.

“You say one wrong thing, and yer dead,” Earl said.

Annie answered the call on the first ring and screamed frantically. “Oh, my God! Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” Lacey said, her voice cracking. “Listen, I was wondering since the tour is over, if you could come back here for a few days?”

“Lace, the tour is far from over and you know that,” Annie said. “Is Earl there with you?”

“Yes, yes....I miss you, too,” Lacey said. “So, you'll come back for a visit?”

“Lace, I'm going to end this call and notify the police,” Annie said. “Is he hurting you?”

“Very much,” Lacey said. “But I'll survive until you get here.”

Earl didn't like Lacey's last comment and jerked the phone away. He pressed it to his ear. “Look, you little cunt,” he hissed into the phone. “Get yer ass back here or yer friend dies.” Earl pointed his gun just above the headboard and fired. A blood-curdling scream roared from Lacey's throat. “You hear that?” Earl asked Annie. “The next bullet goes into her f*cking head! Got it?”

Earl disconnected the call before Annie had a chance to respond. Behind him, he heard the brakes of a vehicle outside and ran down the hall toward the kitchen.

“You f*cker!” Earl yelled. “Looks like neighbor boy wants to play hero.”

Lacey wasn't waiting any longer for an opportunity to break free. It was now or never. If it meant saving Flynn's life, she'd take a bullet for him. Simple as that. She ran her fingers around the rim of the metal handcuffs and hit the secret release button freeing her hands. Then she sat up quickly on the mattress and released the cuffs restraining her legs; silently thanking Flynn for the gift of these magic handcuffs, and jumped off the bed. One long stride had her at the open side window. She punched the screen with all her might and pushed it outside on the lawn below. A minute later she was shimmying through the window opening and falling to the ground.





“Beckett,” Flynn said into his phone.

“This is Detective Mark Walsh with the Massachusetts State Police. Is that you we see by that line of shrubs?”

Flynn looked over his shoulder toward the road and saw several law enforcement vehicles moving into place; one special armored unit equipped with riot gear.

“Yeah, that's me,” Flynn said.

“You need to stand down, sir,” the detective said. “Drop your weapon and let us apprehend the suspect.”

Behind him Flynn heard a gun go off and the echo of it ripple around the lake. He spun around on instinct and started running toward the house. His phone dropped in the grass.

“Shot's fired! Shot's fired,” the detective yelled. “Move in!”

Flynn sprinted across the lawn; his gun gripped tightly in his right hand. Half a dozen vehicles surged onto his property, skidding to stops all over the lawn and driveway. Flynn kept running. The only thought in his head was making Earl suffer. He was almost to the house, when he saw a screen pushed from a kitchen window. He stopped quickly and raised the rifle to his shoulder; preparing to shoot, but Earl fired first.

The bullet tore into the side of Flynn's upper thigh about four inches from the hip. He fell to the grass in agony, the searing heat of the bullet burning into his leg and making him fight for consciousness. He rolled onto this side gripping his leg, then looked toward the house. He watched as Earl lifted his gun again, pointing it right at him. Flynn closed his eyes. He heard the shot fire and waited for the second bullet to hit him.

He fell onto his back; his head spinning, his vision turning fuzzy white. In the distance he heard Lacey screaming his name; anguished, pleading sobs, and then everything went to black and he felt nothing at all.





Ignoring the pain in her ankle from landing on it poorly, Lacey began to race around the side of the cottage toward the driveway. Then she saw all the State Police vehicles parked every which way over both her and Flynn's lawns and froze; fearful of what she should do. Movement caught her eye. She turned and saw Flynn standing about twenty feet from the front door of her cottage; a rifle raised to his shoulder and aimed at a kitchen window. A second later she heard the shot fire then watched Flynn spin in mid air, blood spurting from his leg, and fall lifeless onto his back. She heard herself screaming, as if the sound were coming from someone else, and started running.

She fell to her knees beside Flynn, cradling his head in her hands. Another shot fired and then there was silence. Several cops rushed the cottage, while two more ran to Lacey and Flynn.

“You're safe, now,” one State Trooper said to Lacey, lifting her off of Flynn. “The paramedics should be here in a few minutes. Let my men help him until they get here.”

Safe? What in the hell did that mean and could that ever be possible again?

In the distance Lacey heard the wail of an ambulance coming down the shore road to her cottage. A cloud of dust swirled around the ambulance as it skidded to a stop in her driveway. She watched a crew of medical people jump from the vehicle and begin assessing Flynn. Then she watched the paramedics ease an unconscious Flynn onto a gurney and into the back of a waiting ambulance.

She was frantic to be with him for the ride to the hospital but the detective insisted she be transported in her own ambulance. It would give the EMT's a chance to clean her wounds and question her.

Wounds? She was unaware of being in pain, oblivious to the blood dripping from both knees, a gash on her cheek, and another one high on her forehead at the hairline. All that mattered to her was Flynn waking up and being okay.

“Ma'am, you're in shock,” the EMT said. “Please. Let us treat you.”

Then a needle went into her arm and she felt her body still; her eyes blur to an opaque haze. The voices around her faded, too, and she slowly closed her eyes. She'd rest for now, she thought. And when she woke, everything would be fine. Flynn would be alive and healthy and the nightmare of the last six hours would be nothing more than a horrible dream.