Because You're Mine(81)

Patricia put her hands to her face. “Not again,” she moaned. She started after Liam. “Grady, call for help. I’ll handle this.” She grabbed Liam’s arm and helped him up the steps.

Liam’s chest burned, and he found it difficult to drag in enough oxygen. Aware he was slowing her down, he pulled his arm free. “Go on. Hurry! I’ll catch up. You have to help her.”

It was only as she nodded and hurried toward the stairs to the ballroom that he realized she might not be friendly to Alanna. He took a tighter grip on himself and forced his legs to move faster though his chest felt it would burst into flames at any minute. Grabbing the banister, he dragged himself up the final flight of stairs.

When he reached the ballroom, he heard Patricia cry out. “Barry, no!”

Liam stumbled over to where she stood and brushed past her. Alanna . . . Where was his wife? He spotted her to the left of the door. Barry was approaching her with the knife in his hand.

Barry glanced at his mother. “She is going to leave me, Mother.”

Patricia’s face was white, and she held out her hands to her son as she stepped between him and Alanna. “Not again, Barry. I can’t protect you from this one. You have to put down the knife.”

Barry’s face twisted in a snarl that made him unrecognizable. “I’m your son! You don’t even like her. Why would you protect her?”

“Let’s go on a nice long vacation,” Patricia said soothingly. She approached her son with her hand out. “Give me the knife, Barry.” She was only a foot away from him.

“No!” he screamed. With his left hand, he shoved her out of the way and leaped toward Alanna. His mother stumbled back, then went down onto her knees.

Liam tried to tackle him, but the pain in his chest exploded. He tried to jump but only managed to leap three feet, so he flung out his hand and grabbed at Barry’s arm. His fingers snagged Barry’s shirt, and the man jerked it away.

Barry threw out his arms and pinwheeled. His stumble jerked him to the right of Alanna. Her frozen stance changed, and she blinked, dispelling Liam’s notion that she couldn’t move. Her eyes narrowed on Barry. She took a step back and swung her fiddle up in an arc that caught him under the chin. His head snapped back and he reeled away. The knife spun out of his hand and clattered across the floor to where Liam lay.

Liam retrieved it. That was his blood on its tip. It could have been Alanna’s next.

Liam wiped the knife on his jeans and stared at Barry, who was out cold. “Good aim, Lanna,” he said. He regained his feet and stumbled toward Alanna. She threw herself against his chest, a painfully wonderful embrace. “Are you all right?” he whispered against her hair.

She nodded though she was sobbing. “We have to get you to the hospital.”

“I wouldn’t turn it down,” he said, struggling to breathe. He was going to pass out again if he didn’t sit. He stuck the knife in a belt loop.

Alanna guided him to a chair and helped lower him into it. He glanced up to see Patricia staring down at her son, her face white. “Thank you,” he said to her.

She tore her gaze from Barry with obvious reluctance. “He’s always been obsessed with Deirdre,” she said. “Even when he was eight or nine, he’d sit for hours and look at her picture.” She glanced at Alanna. “When he brought you home, I knew it was about to begin again. I wanted to drive you away, keep him safe. The police will take him away.” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t stand it.”

Liam had no sympathy to spare for the older woman. She’d aided and abetted her son’s crimes. He drew in another agonizing breath and his vision blurred again. He put his head between his knees for a few moments, then straightened when Alanna spoke.

“He tried to kill you,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“I mean the bomb. Barry did that.”

Liam closed his eyes and shook his head.

“What about my sister?” Alanna asked Patricia. “He told me he killed her when she was going to leave him.”

Patricia’s sobs tapered off, and she lowered her hands, then fished in the pocket of her slacks for a tissue. She wiped her eyes with it and slowly nodded. “I didn’t realize he was dangerous until then. I came home and found them, much like today, only I was too late. Neila was already dead.”

“He stabbed her?” Alanna gave a soft sob. “I’ll never see her again.”

Liam wanted to go to Alanna, comfort her, but the pain in his chest grew more agonizing. Spots danced in his eyes. He couldn’t pass out. He couldn’t leave his love. He pushed away the pain and managed to stay conscious.




The trembling wouldn’t stop. Every time Alanna thought she had control of it, the shakes began again. She grabbed her battered fiddle, knowing that having it in her hand would calm her. “What did you do?” she asked Patricia.

“What could I do? I couldn’t let the police take him away. Not my only child, my son.”

Alanna studied the unrepentant face of the woman in front of her. Only a few lines at the corners of her eyes betrayed her age. Patricia had been pampered and coddled all her life. She was the type of woman who shielded her eyes from the brutality in the world, yet when she’d discovered her son was a murderer, she’d allowed it to go unpunished.