Mountain Desire

by Vanessa Vale

  “Then why are you doing this with me? I mean, they were willing.”

  He smiled then.

  “Right?” I asked, my voice squeaking.

  “You want to talk about other women while I fuck you?”

  “No, I—”

  His hands went for the drawstring on my scrubs again, and I rolled away as best I could, pulled my knees back toward my chest.

  “No,” I said. With my arms over my head, I had no leverage, but I wasn’t letting him do this. I was having an acute stress response—or fight-or-flight—and flight wasn’t happening.

  He fought me, got ahold of my pants and tugged. The pants loosened, but I swung wildly with one leg and kicked him.

  “You bitch,” he hissed, his eyes going scary. His muscles tensed. Tendons in his neck stood out.

  “No!” I yelled. Fought.

  I was wild, lost to keeping Mark off me, screaming. My arms tugged at the restraints, and I kicked out at anything, bucking to keep him away from me. I heard shouting, felt his hands leave me, but then they returned.

  “Get off me!” I flailed and kicked out.

  “Sam,” a man called, not Mark. “Sam! Stop. It’s Mac.”

  Mac? I froze, opened my eyes, blinked, but everything was blurry.

  “Mac?” I said. In my struggle my glasses had come off, and they were gently set back on my face. The black blob that had been before me focused into Mac. “Oh God, Mac,” I cried. “Mark’s here. He’s going to hurt me.”

  “No, he won’t hurt you ever again,” Mac vowed.

  I lifted my head from the pillow, saw Hardin looming over Mark, who was pushing off the floor. His nose was bleeding profusely, dripping onto his dress shirt. Hardin’s fists were clenched, and the look on his face scared me.

  “You kidnapped Sam and were going to rape her,” Hardin snarled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “She opened her legs for you and Mac but not me. Jesus, he’s a fucking convict,” Mark said.

  “So you slashed her tire.”

  Mark slowly shook his head. “Jesus, my brother can’t even keep things straight. That’s right, you’re just a loser mechanic.”

  Hardin’s eyes widened at the words, as if he’d never heard things like this before from Mark.

  “I had the tire slashed so she’d come to me. I’d calm her fears… in bed.”

  “That didn’t work for you, did it?” Hardin snapped.

  Mark shook his head, used his sleeve to wipe the blood from his face. “It drove her to the wrong person.”

  “Me,” Mac said.

  I was beginning to see the depths of Mark’s insanity, felt the tug of the restraints on my wrists. The confinement made me panic. “Mac. Undo my hands, please,” I sobbed, tugging my wrists, unable to handle it a second longer.

  Mac whipped around to face me, pulled a switchblade from his pocket, flicked it open. “Stay still.”

  With two deft swipes, I was free, the rope falling away.

  I popped up and launched myself at Mac. He wrapped me in his arms, held me close.

  God, he smelled good, like the soap in his shower, and felt hard and real.

  I looked at Hardin. He’d watched as Mac freed me, but returned his focus to his brother. “So you fucked with her apartment.”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “You had someone do it,” Hardin clarified. “And when we blew your chances with Sarah, the waitress…”

  Mark shrugged, used a hand to try and push up off the floor. With his boot, Hardin shoved Mark back down. He grunted as he fell.

  “You fucked with my sure thing; I fuck with yours.” Mark grinned, his teeth stained red with blood. “I fuck yours.”

  Nix came into the room, reached down and grabbed Mark’s arm, tugged him to his feet, then put him in handcuffs. I had a feeling he’d been just outside the room, listening. He pushed Mark out into the hall, and I heard Mark’s voice swearing the whole time as Nix calmly read him his Miranda rights.

  Mac looked down at me, his gaze roving over my face, my hair, my body. “Are you all right?”

  “I was hit on the head, but it’s not bad,” I replied, lifting my hand to where I could feel a lump. “He didn’t… he didn’t get the chance to hurt me. You got here in time.”

  Mac exhaled loudly, and I felt the tension leave his body.

  Hardin’s eyes closed, and his shoulders dropped. “Holy fuck,” he whispered to himself.

  I climbed out of Mac’s hold and scurried across the bed to kneel on the mattress in front of Hardin, who opened his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” I said, a sob escaping.

  “You’re sorry?” he asked, his head popping back as if I’d punched him.

  I nodded, crying hard now. “He’s your brother.”

  “Fuck, Sam.” He dropped to his knees on the floor so we were eye level. His hands gently cupped my cheeks, the pads of his thumbs brushing away the tears. His eyes were so distraught. Devastated. Pained. “Baby, you have nothing to apologize for. Mark… he… Christ, what he’s done.”

  “I can see how upset you are about him.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he studied me, shook his head. “No. You’ve got it wrong. I’m upset about you. About what he did to you. What he was going to do.”

  “He’s your brother,” I repeated.

  He shook his head. “Haven’t you figured out by now you’re the most important thing in my life? That we’d do anything for you?”

  I remained quiet, too overwhelmed.

  “I’m in love with you, Sam,” Hardin said, his voice rough with emotion.

  “We’re both in love with you,” Mac added. He sat beside me on the bed and rubbed his hand up and down my back as if he couldn’t keep himself from touching me. “Christ, we’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  I gave them a small smile, the adrenaline starting to bleed away. “You found me. I’m… so glad you found me. I… want out of here. Please, can we leave this place? I don’t know where he took me, but I don’t want to be here any longer.”

  As Hardin stood, he scooped me up in his arms. “This is my parents’ house,” he said grimly. “They’re in Arizona for the winter.”

  His parents’ house. Oh God, this awful mess happened where he’d grown up? Was this his childhood bedroom, or Mark’s?

  He carried me out of the room, and it felt so good to be held, to know he was taking me somewhere safe. Mac followed us down a flight of stairs and into a great room. There were several police officers roaming around, and I recognized the two detectives from earlier.

  “Mark’s on the way to the station,” Nix said to all three of us. Then he looked to me. “Your men did a good job finding you.”

  I looked up at Hardin. “Put me down, please. I can stand.”

  “She was hit on the head,” Mac told them.

  Hardin held me even tighter. “You need to go to the hospital.”

  I shook my head and it throbbed. “I’m a doctor. I have a hematoma on the back of my cranium. No concussion. My wrists are sore. I need some ointment, over-the-counter pain meds and bed rest.”

  “Time in bed is a given,” Hardin stated.

  My body heated at his words, hoping what he inferred was what I was thinking. Time in bed with Hardin and Mac. I didn’t want to be alone. God, my apartment had been broken into, and Mark had assaulted me. I wasn’t sure if I could do alone ever again.

  “You’ve been through a lot. We can question you tomorrow when you’re feeling better,” Miranski said.

  “Good, she’ll be at my house,” Hardin said.

  He must have felt me relax at those words because he looked down at me. The rage was gone, but he wasn’t the least bit calm. His life had been turned upside down in the matter of a few hours. The family he’d known had been destroyed.

  “Please, let me stand,” I all but begged.

  Grudgingly he put me down but kept an arm about my waist, either afraid I might fall over or disappear.

  “I’ll an
swer your questions. I want to get it over with,” I said and Miranski nodded.

  “Tell us what happened,” she prompted.

  I reached up and touched the back of my head, tried not to wince. If Mac or Hardin saw I was in pain, they’d carry me to the ER themselves. “I didn’t see who hit me, he came up too fast, but I don’t think it was Mark.”

  Nix shook his head. “We don’t think it was either. Hopefully we’ll get a name from Mark.”

  “I… I never saw anyone else. Only Mark. I woke up tied to the bed upstairs.” I glanced from Hardin to Mac. We were in a huge great room. A two-story river rock fireplace took up one wall. On either side were large windows with views of fields and mountains. It was a pretty house, well decorated with a lived-in feel. A home, and it belonged to Hardin’s parents. How were they going to react to the news? Their house had been used as a crime scene… by one of their sons.

  I licked my lips, leaned into Hardin. I might have been kidnapped, but he had to be reeling.

  “I’ve only been in Cutthroat a few months, moving here for the job at the hospital. Mark started asking me out my first week. I turned him down. Every time. He didn’t like hearing no and kept at it. As we thought, he has a thing for blondes.” I glanced up at Hardin, whose jaw was clenched tight.

  “Go on,” he said, his nostrils flaring as he breathed.

  “I kept reporting him to HR, but nothing was done. Turns out, the HR woman is one of his conquests.”

  “Upstairs, he said he was pissed we were together,” Mac said.

  Nix nodded. “I heard that. The rejection combined with Sam’s interest being directed not at him, but at you, then at both of you must have pushed him to the edge.”

  “He admitted to me he slept with Erin Mills but didn’t kill her,” I told them. “I can’t tell when he’s lying or not, but I don’t think he did it.”

  “Think maybe the guy who hit you on the head did it for him?” Miranski asked.

  I shrugged. “Maybe, but Mark’s into sexual domination. Female subjugation. I studied this in my psychology classes and worked with patients like him during my psych rotation. He’s a sexual predator, a sociopath who likes adulation. Adoration. Erin did him no good dead. Perhaps that’s when he moved on to me.”

  16

  HARDIN

  * * *

  I drove to my house, Sam between us. After a minute of sitting as still and tense as a statue, she leaned into me, rested her head on my shoulder. The gesture, while completely innocent, was all the reassurance I needed that she was here with me. Safe. Whole. Mine… ours.

  Mac glanced at me, then back at the road. I laid my palm on her thigh and kept it there the rest of the way. I tried not to clench or squeeze my fingers no matter how much I wanted to make a fist, to beat the steering wheel as I thought of what had happened.

  I wasn’t sure how I was going to get past this. My easygoing brother, the one I was planning to snowmobile with later this week, was a kidnapper. A stalker. Possibly a murderer. Most likely a rapist.

  He’d taken Sam to our parents’ house… our parents’ house… to hurt her. They weren’t returning until February, so it was vacant. It was also on a big chunk of land where no one could hear… no. I pushed that thought the fuck away.

  My left hand gripped the steering wheel. I had to let this shit go, at least for now. For Sam.

  Tomorrow I’d call my parents, tell them what was going on. Only then would I think about Mark. What he’d done. How he’d been two completely different people.

  Tonight Sam needed me. Us.

  Once the garage door was closed and I cut the engine, we found her asleep. There was no fucking way I would wake her up. She’d worked a shift, then returned to the hospital for emergency surgery, then been whacked on the head, taken and terrorized. She’d probably have nightmares, but we’d be there for her. Hold her until she settled, then let her sleep some more.

  I carried her inside and directly to my bedroom. Mac pulled back the blankets and sheet, and I put her down. We stripped off her shoes, then tucked her in. She looked perfect in my bed. Knowing she was here made my cock kick in my jeans. Now wasn’t the time. I couldn’t touch her, not with the rage in my blood. The anger. The hatred. I didn’t want her to see any of it, to feel it, because it wasn’t directed at her.

  I needed to let it out before she woke up. Before I got my hands on her and showed her she was the most precious thing in the world.

  “Go. I’ll stay with her,” Mac whispered, sitting at the foot of the bed and shucking his shoes. He knew I couldn’t climb into bed now, that I was practically clawing out of my own skin. That while I wanted to be here for Sam, I couldn’t. I couldn’t touch her, not with these hands. Not yet.

  I glanced at her one last time, ensuring she really was here, safe, then nodded. Mac wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I cut through the house, out the back door and to my wood pile that fed my cast-iron stove. The temperature was well below freezing, but I couldn’t feel it. Picking up the ax, I grabbed a piece of wood that needed to be split, set it on the base log. I lifted the ax, swung. Split the wood. I could have had it delivered precut, but the methodic process of chopping it all soothed me. Now, tonight, it would be the way I could let go. I could envision my brother as I wielded the ax. I had no idea how long I worked, but I was dripping in sweat by the time the pile was decimated, the angst worked off. Hatred lingered, but I doubted that would ever go away.

  I awoke to a hand stroking my dick. The small grip was unskilled, but my dick didn’t care.

  Groaning at the incredible feel, I blinked my eyes open, looked up into Sam’s face. It was morning. The sun streamed through the window. She was biting her lip as she studied me, her hand continuing to work me. After I’d split the wood, I’d showered, then climbed into bed beside her sometime around two. She’d been asleep, Mac on her other side.

  “Hi,” she whispered.

  I reached up, tucked her long hair back behind her ear. My hips bucked when her thumb slid over the crown. “Best way to wake up. Ever.”

  My voice was deep from sleep.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted.

  “Don’t whisper on my behalf,” Mac said from the other side of her. “You think I’d sleep through this?” He sat up, adjusted a pillow behind his back and leaned against the headboard. He’d taken off his shirt, but the blanket had fallen to his waist and I could see the top of his jeans.

  “Anything you do is incredible. Trust me, you can’t do anything wrong if your hands are on me,” I said.

  She gave a shy smile. “I want to make you feel good,” she replied.

  “You are.”

  “Fine, more than good.”

  I took hold of her wrist beneath the sheet, made her stop, but she didn’t let go. “You don’t have to do this.”

  Her fingers opened, and I gritted my teeth. “You don’t want… I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking away.

  “Baby, listen. You’ve been through… fuck. I don’t want to scare you. You’ve been through too much.”

  “Hardin, think about it. If it hadn’t been for Mark, what he did, we never would have met.”

  Since I still held her wrist, she pushed her glasses up with her left hand.

  Mac laughed. “That’s true. In the ER you wouldn’t have been so entranced by my dick that you couldn’t resist wanting more.”

  She rolled her eyes and smiled. Mark had some guy slash her tire in the hopes she’d run to him, all damsel in distress. Instead it had brought us with the tow truck. Us and our dicks. She was right. I hated Mark, fuck, but maybe remembering this would keep me from killing him.

  “I need to know you still want me,” she whispered, her voice suddenly unsure.

  Christ, that was my doing. I tugged and pulled her down on top of me so she was close enough I could see the freckles across her nose. “That’s one thing you never have to question. I’ll always want you.” I rolled my hips so she could feel how hard I was.


  Mac stroked a hand down her hair, along her back. She was still wearing the scrubs from the night before. I wanted her naked, but I had to be careful here. We had all the time in the world. “We both will,” he added.

  She looked to him, took in his bare chest. We were so different, him with his tattoos and brooding looks. I was a fucking giant.

  “Show me.”

  I paused, studied her face.

  “We don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You said you’d never hurt me. The other day in the parking lot when we first met.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Show me,” she repeated. “Please.”

  In one swift move I rolled us so she was tucked beneath me and I loomed over her, my forearms holding my weight. I looked to her one more time, but I saw nothing but eagerness. No darkness. No haunting shadows.

  I kissed her, brushed my lips over hers. Gently. Softly. Again and again until she was lifting her head to try and take it deeper. Her tongue flicked my lip, but I still wouldn’t advance.

  “Hardin,” she whimpered, letting her head fall back onto the pillow. “Don’t hold back.”

  I shook my head. “You’re… it’s—”

  “I’m fine. I need to feel your wildness. Be rough. I need it. I need you. All of you.”

  My gaze roved over her face. I heard her words, knew she meant them, but I couldn’t.

  “You want your men, don’t you, sweetheart?” Mac asked.

  She turned her head and looked up at him. “Yes.”

  “You’re not a virgin anymore. We can fuck you hard. Take you as we want, as we’ve thought about.”

  “Yes,” she repeated. This time her voice was breathy. I could feel her skin heat beneath me, even through her clothes. “Please.”

  I groaned, my dick telling my brain to shut the fuck up.

  Mac looked my way. “Fuck her, Hardin, and don’t hold back. What happened yesterday won’t go away, but that can’t change us. If we let it, he wins.”

  He was right. I stared down at Sam. “I love you.”

  She smiled and everything inside me changed. Shifted. She was mine, and I was going to show her how much.