Karen Rose - Count to Ten

She actually considered going up the same tree to Reed's room, but chucked the idea with a grin. She'd probably fall on her ass and break something. She fingered the chain around her neck. Or not. She seemed remarkably resilient these days.

Or not. She thought about sitting on his lap, crying her eyes out, then once again telling him things she had no business telling him. But he was easy to talk to and she'd wanted him to know. For the first time she'd wanted to throw her faults out there.

Maybe it was a test. To see if he'd throw her back. He hadn't yet.

She slipped into Reed's side of the duplex. It was quiet. She crept up the stairs, her heart pounding. If the house was a mirror image to Lauren's, the last door on the right was the master bedroom. There he was, sprawled on top of the bedspread, sleeping deeply with the light still burning. Still dressed down to his shiny shoes.

He'd had a long day, too. She'd get him comfortable, then go back to her own room on the other side. Then tomorrow, she thought, she'd find a new apartment as close to this house as she could. Because there was no way in hell she was having sex in this room. It was Christine's, down to the lace on the bedspread.

She frowned at the picture on his nightstand. Christine. Of course he'd have a picture of his wife. He loved her. Still. He's never found anyone quite as good , the little voice reminded her. Beth felt the same. It was when Mia went to loosen his belt that she saw the book. Carefully she slid it from his fingers and curious, peeked at the title, but there was none. It was a notebook, and every page inside was handwritten.

She glanced at his face. He still slept. She should put the book right down. Right now. But he'd listened to her conversations. This only seemed fair. She flipped to the front page. It said simply "My Poems, by Christine Solliday" but the next page tightened her throat. "To my darling Reed. I promised you my heart. Here it is."

Poems. Every page was poems, in Christine's own hand. So Beth came by her talent naturally, she thought. And how wrong the girl had been about her father's understanding. Every page was worn, some dog-eared. This book was well read and well loved. It was Christine's heart. And Reed's.

The words blurred as she read and Mia blinked away the stupid tears. He'd been honest after all. He'd said no strings. And like a fool I believed that would be enough .

Hands trembling, she put the book on the nightstand and went to work on his shirt. A fine gold chain appeared, glistening in the dark hair of his chest. He hadn't worn it when they'd made love, but vaguely she remembered feeling it against her cheek earlier, as he'd held her and let her cry. She wouldn't cry now. Not yet. She'd put him to bed, then go back and… She got to the bottom of his shirt and her fingers went still.

At the end of the chain was a ring. A plain gold band. He still wears his wedding ring . Her heart squeezed painfully, but her hand was bent on self-torture and lifted the chain. The ring dangled, reflecting the light from the lamp.

With a jerk Reed woke, one hand closing over the ring while the other closed over her wrist with enough force to make her flinch. "You're hurting me,"' she whispered.

Immediately he released her arm, but his hand stayed wrapped around the ring. His face was hard and angry. "What are you doing here?"

Mia took a step back. "Obviously making a big mistake. Good night, Reed."

She made it out of his room, down the stairs and out the front door. Her hands shaking, she managed to get the key in Lauren's front door and bolted inside. She stood, breathing harder than if she'd run a mile. She thought he'd follow her. Obviously that was a big mistake, too. Her whole body was shaking now. Badly.

Stupid. She hadn't eaten in… She couldn't remember the last time. She downed a slice of cold pizza, her stomach churning. When she was on her second slice the front door opened. Reed's face was pained, his shirt buttoned. If he still wore his ring, at least he had the decency to hide it from her. No, that wasn't fair. The ring was his business. He told you from the beginning, Mia. No strings . "We need to talk, Mia."

She shook her head. "It's all right. Go back to bed, Reed." He didn't move and her patience snapped. "You know, I've had a really foul day. I would like to be alone now."

He came closer, cupped her cheek in his palm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Don't be." She swallowed back the lump that rose in her throat. "You told me what you wanted from the start. I'm the one who keeps crossing the line. I can't play by your ground rules, Reed. I can't do an affair with no strings. I was wrong to try."

He went still. "Then maybe we can change the ground rules."

Hope lit a little fire in her heart. Then she slipped her hand inside his shirt and pulled out the chain where the plain gold band dangled and the fire in her heart fizzled. "You know, I spent most of my life competing with a dead boy I never knew existed for the love of a man who wasn't worth slime. I'm not going to compete with your dead wife, Reed, even though the prize would be… very worthwhile. I think I deserve better than that. Now, I think you should go. I'll be out of here tomorrow."

She thought he'd argue, but he stood, his expression haunted and desolate. "I guess I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Eight o'clock. Spinnelli's. I'll be there."

She didn't see him to the door. She turned to the backyard, wishing things were different. That she was different. Then something brushed at her leg and she jumped.

Percy looked up at her, accusation in his eyes. "Meow."

With a weak laugh she picked him up. "I'd forgotten about you. At least you can ask for your dinner, unlike poor Fluffy." She rested her cheek against his soft fur, felt his purr. "Let's eat, Percy, then bed."

Indianapolis, Saturday, December 2, 2:15 a.m.

You'd think a realtor would have better home security , he thought as he let himself in through Tyler Young's patio door. His loss, my gain . Shouldering his heavy load, he crept up the stairs, listening, but there was no sound except for the pounding of his own heart. Finally .

He would finally face the one who'd killed Shane, as an adult now, not the helpless kid he'd been. Two people slept in the bed, one a woman. A ceiling fan turned above the bed and along with Tyler's snores, covered his steps as he moved to the woman's side. One stab of his knife and she painlessly gurgled her last.

Tyler still snored heavily and this close, he could smell liquor on his breath. Good. Drunk people made such easy targets. Tyler would be that much easier to subdue.

He had dreamed of this as a kid, in the Youngs' house of hell. Every night he'd fantasized his revenge as Tyler… He swallowed, the memory making his stomach churn even now, ten years later. As Tyler did what Tyler did. The fantasies had kept him sane then. Now, those fantasies were about to come true. Now he'd do what Tyler did. Every single step. Quietly he fixed the chain he'd brought to the head of the bed, down at the floor. At the end of the chain was a cuff and with a click he snapped it around Tyler's beefy wrist. And held his breath.

But Tyler's snores continued. The rag for Tyler's mouth was soaked in urine, another little trick he'd learned from the man who was now his captive. But he had his own tricks now. With great care he took out the third of the knives he'd treated with his curare paste. How easy to do, and how… exotic. His gun in his left hand, he quickly opened one of

Tyler's veins with his right. Tyler's eyes surged open, but the gun was already aimed between the man's eyes. Horror filled Tyler's eyes by degrees as he took in the gun, the chain, his bleeding arm.