Courting Darkness by Melynda Price Page A

he opened it and caught Mitch before he hit the floor. Tossing him over his shoulder, Haden fireman carried the guy into his house.
    Kicking off his shoes at the door, he entered the kitchen and walked down the hall. Hanging a left, he climbed the flight of stairs in the foyer. Once he reached the top, he turned back around and leaned forward, letting Mitch slide off his shoulder. He hit the stairs with a loud thunk and tumbled down in a flail of arms and legs. Along the way, his arm snagged in between the railing, bone cracked , snapping it at an odd angle.
    “Oops…” Haden winced as the offended extremity flopped around haphazardly— thunkity-thunk-thunk-bang . Mitch’s body tumbled to a stop, sprawled awkwardly on the tile foyer. “Damn, that had to have stung.” He descended the stairs, stepping over the corpse. Without breaking stride, he cut through the foyer, down the hall, and paused only briefly to shoe-up before exiting the kitchen. Ducking out the back door of the garage, Haden kept to the shadows as he made his way back to the bar to retrieve his wheels.
     

     
    Olivia awoke to the shrill ring of the doorbell and was instantly hit with the smell of bacon. Her stomach lurched, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as she rolled out of bed and ran for the bathroom. Slamming the door behind her, she dropped to her knees before the porcelain throne and emptied her stomach.
    Again the bell rang, followed by the persistent pounding of flesh against wood. “Will you answer the damn door?” she yelled between hurls.
    “Sorry, dove, can’t do.”
    That undertone of irritation was back in his voice, thick with judgment. “Damn touchy angel…” she grumbled, slamming her hand against the lever. The whoosh temporarily drowned out the banging as she braced her hands against the seat and forced herself to stand. The head rush that followed temporarily darkened her vision and she made a grab for the towel rack to keep upright. “I’m never drinking again,” she vowed to herself as she opened the door and stepped into the hall, running smack into Tate.
    “Promise?” he grumbled. His hands shot out to steady her, one remaining firmly attached to her bicep. A disapproving scowl settled on his face as he led her toward the stairs.
    “You could have gotten the door,” she complained, wincing as the bell pierced her ears.
    “No, I can’t. The police are outside, and I’m not about to explain who I am and what I’m doing here. I can’t lie, remember?”
    She turned to look at him and the brisk movement threw her off balance. His hold tightened and he tugged her a step closer as they traversed the stairs. “The police? Why would the police be here?”
    His scowl darkened. “I was hoping you could tell me. By the way, you’re the only one who can see me right now.”
    He gave her a last-second reminder as she opened the pounding door to an unwelcomed slap of reality. Olivia squinted against the sun shining brightly into her photophobic eyes, making the two officers before her nothing more than two dark figures. “Can I help you?” She lifted her hand, shielding her eyes from the glare.
    “Olivia Norton?”
    “Yes.”
    “We have to inform you of some bad news, I’m afraid. You’re listed as the emergency contact for a Mitch Mathis.”
    “I am?”
    “Yes, ma’am, you are. And I regret to inform you that there has been an accident at his home. Mr. Mathis has passed away.”
    “What?” She took a surprised step back. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as the shocking news sent her fragile stomach lurching.
    “We do have a few questions for you, ma’am. If we could come inside…”
    Her head was spinning as she stood there in stunned silence. How could this be happening? Guilt assuaged her on so many levels. He was little more than a stranger to her, yet in her heart she knew at one time he had been more. By the sounds of it, their relationship had been complicated, and they’d both hurt each