Free Nowhere to Run (Stephanie Carovella) by Nina D'Angelo

year of their university years before Stephanie, Angel, their friend Lyn and she had moved in together to an off-campus apartment. Angel had made her feel like she belonged somewhere. She’d introduced her to new friends, and lessened the ache of leaving New York behind.
    Secondly, she was here, as a Detective because there was no telling who might turn up to the funeral. For all she knew, one of Angel’s mourners could be her killer.
    Smiling sadly, she watched Ben Reynolds and his girlfriend Ana Ferrier move forward to throw dirt onto the coffin.
    Dropping her gaze to the ground, she raised her head only when a hand touched her shoulder. She turned her head to see Jesse Carlisle standing beside her. Her own hand covered his silently, before she turned her head back to stare into the fiery gaze of Stephanie Carovella.
    Stephanie stood in front of Angeline’s coffin, staring down at the rich, brown dirt she held in her hand. “I promise you Angel, I’ll make him pay. I will find whoever did to this to you, and send him straight to hell. Believe in me, as you always have,” she whispered angrily, throwing the dirt onto the coffin.
    “I’ll make him pay Angel, and no one will stop me,” she vowed, lifting her head to meet Gena Evans’ gaze. She returned it steadily, refusing to break the icy silence between them. She smiled coolly when Gena broke her gaze, leaning over to whisper fiercely to Jesse. She tensed, feeling someone’s eyes on her. Skimming the crowd, her eyes met and clashed with Jase Devlin’s, who stood watching her intently.
    Nodding her head towards him, she turned and walked towards Ben and Ana, feeling his heated gaze following her every movement. She resisted the urge to turn her head and look back at him.
     
    ***
     
    “She came then,” Gena said, turning away from Stephanie’s fiery gaze.
    “Did you ever doubt she would? Angel was her sister, a kindred spirit,” Jesse answered, giving her a gentle smile.
    “How long does she plan on staying?” Gena asked, noticing for the first time the dark circles under Jesse’s eyes, and how exhausted he looked. She wondered if he was sleeping.
    “Are you asking as a Detective or a friend?” Jesse asked warily.
    “Still the protective lover I see,” she commented with a mocking smile.
    “As an ex-lover,” he reminded her.
    Yes, but for how long? She wondered silently. Aloud, she asked exasperated, “You didn’t answer my question, Jesse.”
    He shrugged, saying simply, “You know Stephanie.”
    She groaned at his answer, meshing her teeth together in frustration. “Yes, I damn well know Stephanie. I know her better than she knows herself sometimes. It’s because I know her that I’m asking you this. Please tell me she’s leaving as soon as the funeral is over.”
    He grinned broadly, flashing, white, even teeth. Bumping Gena’s shoulder gently, he said teasingly, “Like you said, you know Steph. She never tells anyone what she’s planning. She’s always done what she’s wanted and to hell with the consequences.”
    “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” she growled, bumping Jess back with her shoulder. Linking her arm with his, she asked softly, “You really don’t know what she’s thinking?”
    Jesse ran a hand through his dark brown hair; frustration in his voice. “Hell Gena, no one knows what she’s thinking or feeling. The only person who ever did was Dominic.”
    Gene swallowed hard, a lump developing in her throat and her chest tightly constricting. A ripple of grief streamed through her at the thought of Dominic Delaney. Taken too young, his death had left a gaping hole in their group. Charismatic and too good-looking for his own damn good, Dominic always had a wallop of the devil in him. He’d been Stephanie’s husband, lover and soul mate. The love of her life, he’d been her complete heart and soul until the day she quit their marriage and left him without any explanation. To this day, Gena couldn’t