Vixen Healed (Vintage Vixen 2)

Prologue

San Diego, 2002

“I can’t believe we forgot the champagne. It’s the only thing Dev asked us to bring.” Claire pulled her lightweight, khaki jacket closer as they walked toward the liquor store. She peered up at the sky and marveled at the fat yellow moon that stared back at her. Beautiful.

“Well, to be fair, we were busy with other things.” She fixed her gaze on her fiancé, who wagged his eyebrows up and down, and she giggled.

“Shh, someone will hear you.”

“Who?” He gestured toward the empty sidewalk.

“Smart ass.”

“You worry too much, Claire bear. I blame that uptight mother of yours. I’ve gotten sick of hearing how a Reading should act, so, I can only imagine how you feel.”

“That woman is due to be your Mother-in-Law in March.”

“I know. Then she can officially extend the speech to me and we can drive her insane together.”

“You’re horrible.” She attempted a stern frown and failed miserably.

“You love it.” Campbell winked and nudged her in the ribs.

“I do.” He was a buffer between the demands her parents placed on her and the guilt trip and berate method they wielded like a sword intent on felling her.

They entered the store and headed to the back where refrigerated units were lined up.

“Here we are.” They paused at the champagne section, which had been ransacked. He slid open the glass door and held one of the three remaining bottles up in the air. “Victory!”

“Okay, conqueror. We’ve got it. Now let’s go.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him down the aisle toward the front.

“Open the register and give me the money now!” a gruff voice sounded in the store.

She held her breath as her brain struggled to process what was happening. Was this a prank? Campbell held a finger to his lips and shook his head. She covered her mouth with both hands to contain the whimpers that slipped through her sealed lips. Campbell wrapped an arm around her.

“Faster, we ain’t got all day!”

Their position was a double-edged razor blade. It shielded them, but left them blind. Beeps came from the register, the sound of a drawer on a track signaling it was open, then the shuffling of bills. Pow! Thwack. A bullet fired and hit flesh. Her ears rang. She flinched. Their bodies bumped the shelf beside them. Bottles clinked and crashed to the floor. Her stomach dropped into her shoes as clear, colored liquid and glass made a messy puddle on the floor. Campbell pushed her behind him as a set of men clad from head to toe in black appeared at the end of the aisle. Both men were tall and thin with drawn faces. Bones protruded from sweat-dotted skin and dead eyes bore holes into them. One looked meaner than the other. A scowl curled up his lip, and his brow was furrowed.

“Looks like we have some stowaways,” the one on the left said. His gaze darted around the store. Nervous energy poured off him. He shifted his weight from side to side. “What should we do with them?”

She glanced down, pressed her face into Campbell’s broad shoulders like a coward, and clenched the material of his pullover to keep her feet under her. Their images would be seared into her mind for as long as she lived … if she lived.

“The last thing we need is witnesses, but I’m thinking we should take her with us, have a little celebration of our own.”

“No.”

Their eyes widened at Campbell’s quietly delivered statement.

“What did you say to me, boy?” the man on the right asked.

“I said no. You’ll take her over my dead body. Someone’s already heard that first shot, and the cashier probably tripped an alarm. The police aren’t far behind.”

“You think you hard, bro?” He cocked the double barrow shotgun. “What about now?”

Campbell remained silent. Please God, let them go away. A siren screamed in the distance, a prayer answered. The gun holder turned his soulless gaze to his partner.

“Let’s get out of here, man.”

They turned to leave, and she leaned against Campbell. Relief spread through every atom of her body. An explosion sounded. She was thrown back five feet. She slammed into the ground. Her head bounced off the floor, and her vision wavered. She struggled to breathe as Campbell’s body weighed her down. Warm wetness spread across her chest. No! No. Adrenaline surged. She forced herself into an upright position, sliding him to the side so she could assess the damage. Red wept from the holes that littered his chest. Do I move him? No, apply pleasure to the wound. She ripped off her jacket and pressed her weight down. He cried out. His body jerked, but she refused to move away.

“Please hold on for me. Can you hear the sirens? They’re almost here.”

Tears filled her eyes. All the blood had drained from his face, and his breathing was labored. Pasty, white eyelids fluttered open to reveal hazel-colored eyes laced with pain.

“You’re okay?” His voice was raspy and weak.

“Yes, you saved me, baby.” She wanted to touch him, but she didn’t dare remove the hands or the material that kept him from bleeding out. He coughed. Blood oozed out of the corners of his mouth, staining his white teeth.

“We both know this is it for me.”

“No—”

“Please, don’t bullshit me, Claire. We both know that’s not my style. I’m not sorry I saved you. I’d do it again to keep you safe. Don’t spend any time feeling bad about that. I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you in the seventh grade.” He winced.

“I love you too.” She sucked in deep breaths. I can’t break down. He needs me to be strong.

A weak smile spread across his lips. His eyes went unfocused and began to glaze.

“Stay with me, baby!”

“Promise me.” His voice was thinner, reedy. She bent in to hear him better.

“Anything.”

“Live your life for you. Be happy. We’ll meet again.”

“Don’t talk like that, please!”