Confessions

by Cynthia Eden

  “No!” Scarlett screamed, even as dizziness hit her as hard as that gun had. “Don’t!” Her hands flew up.

  But he slammed the trunk with such force that her right wrist snapped.

  Scarlett screamed again. She kept screaming, over and over, even as she felt the car begin to move.

  She was still screaming when he drove away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Scarlett should have been back by now.” Grant frowned at the clock that hung on his wall. She’d been gone for nearly thirty minutes.

  Why wasn’t she back?

  “She’s probably just still talking to her lawyer,” Ava said, giving a little nod. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll be back up here soon.”

  He glanced at the window. Tension had been growing within him with every moment that passed. His instincts, kicking in again...or just his overprotective nature?

  He reached for the phone on the bedside. Dialed Scarlett’s number. Fine, he was overprotective. After everything they’d been through, he had that right, didn’t he?

  The phone rang once, twice...

  * * *

  HER PHONE WAS RINGING.

  Scarlett grabbed for the cell. She’d tried using it before. Again and again—but there had been no service. No service! She’d used the light app on her phone to try and find a weapon in that trunk, but Pierce had stripped the small space of anything useful.

  He’d planned this.

  Now the phone was working—yes! “Help me!” Scarlett cried as she fumbled with that phone. She didn’t know who the caller was, but that didn’t matter. “Please, help me!”

  “Scarlett?” It was Grant’s shocked voice.

  “Please...” She clutched the phone desperately. “Pierce took me. He...he shot Davis.”

  Static crackled over the line, and she was afraid that she was about to lose service again.

  “What?” Fury broke through Grant’s shock. “Where are you? Where is my brother?”

  “Davis is in the parking garage...level four.” The lowest level. The one that she now realized was rarely used. Pierce had known exactly how to isolate me. “Help him! He was...he was alive.” And her words were a tangled mess. “When we left...”

  “Where are you?”

  “His trunk.” Her head was throbbing again. It kept doing that...and Scarlett thought she might have passed out. Once? Twice? She had a giant knot on her skull, one that still bled. “Get the cops...to find his car...”

  But Grant didn’t respond.

  “Grant?” she whispered. “Grant?” Scarlett screamed.

  Then she looked at the phone. In the dark, she could see the glowing screen so clearly.

  No service.

  * * *

  “SCARLETT?” GRANT ROARED.

  But she was gone.

  He leaped from the bed. Yanked the IV out of his hand. Nearly slammed facedown on the floor.

  But Ava grabbed him. “Grant? Grant, what’s wrong?”

  The door flew open. Brodie and a uniformed cop rushed inside.

  “Scarlett.” Saying her name had his heart nearly ripping out of his chest. “Her lawyer—he’s the one we’re after! He took her!”

  Ava’s face went slack with horror and shock.

  “He shot...Davis...”

  Brodie grabbed Grant. “I sent Davis down with Scarlett!”

  “Parking garage,” Grant said, gritting his teeth against the pain. He could feel the stitches pulling along his side. He didn’t care if he broke every single one of them. “Level four. Get him.”

  Brodie raced out of the room.

  “Grant, please, get back in bed,” Ava whispered.

  Hell, no. He grabbed for clothes. Managed to mostly get dressed. The cop was calling for backup. Shouting and asking Grant to tell him more about—

  “Pierce Jennings. Thirty-five, six foot two. Black hair, green eyes. He was her lawyer,” Grant snarled as he made his staggering way to the door. “Get an APB out for him. And try to track Scarlett’s phone.” He rattled off her cell number. “We have to find them.”

  Terror held him in a desperate grip.

  Ava stepped in front of him. “You can’t leave. Grant, you can barely stand up!”

  He’d crawl after her if he had to do it. “She needs...me,” he managed to gasp. “I won’t...live...without her.”

  His sister swallowed, her eyes widening with realization. “You love her that much?”

  More than anything.

  Ava came closer to him. She slid his arm around her shoulders. “Then let’s find her,” she said, her voice growing stronger. “Let’s find her.”

  * * *

  SHE TRIED TO call Grant again and again, but the phone wouldn’t work. She’d searched for the trunk release lever. All American cars made after 2002 had trunk release levers—she knew that. But there was no sign of the glow-in-the-dark handle near the latch. She searched for a toggle switch or even a button—one that didn’t glow—but there was nothing there.

  Had Pierce removed the trunk release lever?

  No doubt, damn him.

  So she twisted her body and started fighting with the seats. If she could push them down or pry them loose enough to shove them out of her way, she’d escape into the backseat. She’d attack Pierce—stop him somehow.

  Her right wrist kept throbbing as she moved, and Scarlett knew it was broken. But a broken wrist was the least of her worries. When Pierce got her to whatever destination he had in mind—

  He’ll kill me.

  But she knew it wouldn’t be an easy death. Because if he’d wanted fast and easy, he could have just shot her in that parking garage. The same way he’d shot Davis.

  Be alive, Davis. Please! Grant would get him help. She knew it with utter certainty. If Davis was still alive.

  The car seemed to slow down.

  No...

  And then the vehicle stopped.

  * * *

  “YOU SHOULD BE in bed!” Shayne glowered at Grant. “What the hell are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that Scarlett needs me, and I’ll be damned if I leave her alone with him.”

  He could feel blood oozing on his side. Some of the stitches had already given way. The others wouldn’t be far behind.

  Shayne growled. “Fine. Damn fool!” He ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “We’ve got the video surveillance feeds running here, but they’re no use—at least, not from the fourth garage level. Pierce blacked them out.”

  They were in the guards’ station at the hospital. Davis was in surgery. Brodie had found him. He was alive, thank God, and the doctors were working frantically to patch him up.

  The bullet didn’t hit his heart. Those had been Brodie’s gruff words.

  Then Brodie hadn’t spoken again. Just joined the swarm in the guards’ office as the police launched their search.

  “There...there!” Excitement kicked in Shayne’s voice as he pointed to one of the monitors. “That’s Pierce’s car leaving the hospital at 11:04.”

  Too long ago. “The APB,” Grant snapped at him. “Why haven’t your officers found him?”

  “Because he’s probably too good at hiding.” Shayne was sweating. “But we have a GPS trace working on her phone now. If Scarlett comes within range again for us, then we’ll have them.”

  “We don’t have this time to kill,” Grant retorted desperately. They couldn’t just wait and hope to get lucky. “He’s hurting her.”

  Killing her?

  The door flew open then. Mac stood in the entrance, chest heaving. “Pierce has got property just twenty miles from the McGuire ranch. Isolated, unused from what I can tell...”

  “A perfect kill spot.” Brodie’s voice.
<
br />   Grant wished his other brother had stayed silent.

  “The black SUV came from that area. I think he was out there,” Mac continued, “waiting for you. Waiting to attack.”

  Did you want me out of the way so you could get to Scarlett?

  “I’ve got a chopper on standby,” Shayne said.

  Hell, yes. “Then let’s get that bird in the air!” Grant took a step forward. Staggered.

  Brodie grabbed him. “You can’t do this.” His eyes glinted. “I’ll go. I will kill that SOB for you.”

  Grant believed him. There was no mistaking his brother’s fury. Brodie’s twin had been attacked, left for dead. Brodie would not rest until he’d gotten his vengeance.

  But...it was about more than vengeance. Scarlett is mine. “I’m going for her.”

  Brodie gave a grim nod. “How big is this chopper?”

  They were all going for her.

  * * *

  SCARLETT POSITIONED HERSELF so that she was ready for Pierce. When that trunk opened, she shot her legs out, catching him in the stomach. He grunted and stumbled back, and she jumped from the vehicle. Her legs pistoned as she ran, pushing forward as fast as she could.

  He was behind her, yelling, and she expected to feel the impact of a bullet hitting her at any moment.

  Instead, he tackled her. They slammed into the ground. Her face hit the dirt and her knee struck a big rock.

  He flipped her over and pressed a knife to her throat.

  She realized then why he hadn’t fired at her. He’d switched to his personal weapon.

  “Why do you fight so hard,” he panted, “when you know there’s no escape?”

  “Why are you doing this?” Scarlett shouted right back.

  He blinked, seeming to be caught off guard by the question. “Do you truly destroy so many lives that you can’t remember?”

  Insane. “I haven’t destroyed anyone’s life! I haven’t—”

  “Ian.”

  The name was the last one she expected to hear then. “I haven’t see Ian in years.” Ian is dead. Grant had told her that.

  Pierce’s blade pricked against her throat. He’d been the man in her condo. The one who’d come to kill her.

  “Of course you haven’t seen him. It’s not easy to see the dead.” Her lawyer rose, dragging her up with him. “You killed him.”

  “No, I didn’t!” She’d gotten as far from that guy as she could. She hadn’t even known about his death until yesterday.

  “You ruined his life...crash and burn...and you never looked back.” Pierce was hauling her toward a small run-down cabin as he talked, and he never once took the knife away from her throat. “I guess that’s what you do, isn’t it? You use your lovers. Wreck them. And you never glance back to see what you’ve done.”

  “Ian attacked me! He shoved me down a flight of stairs!”

  “You fell,” he said flatly. “Then you wouldn’t let go, would you? You had to contact his parents. Had to send them those damn pictures of you—and they cut him off!”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “Who was Ian to you?”

  This nightmare...it was all tied to a man she’d known years ago?

  “My stepbrother. I never saw him as much as I wanted, not after my father left us and remarried for a third time.” Pierce kicked open the door of the cabin. Shoved her inside. “Just a few times a year, that’s when my father would call me over, and Ian would be there. I knew it was my job to help Ian. To protect him.”

  “Ian hurt me.” Scarlett’s voice was strangely calm. Odd, when she was shaking so much on the inside. “I didn’t destroy his life. I just wanted him out of my life!”

  “You started the accusations.” The words were feverish. “You ruined his reputation!”

  Bull. No one had believed her at their university.

  “He had to leave in disgrace. First you...then the others, they all started accusing him.”

  The others?

  Pierce’s breath heaved out as he forced her into a nearby chair. Then he tied her hands behind her.

  With a sinking heart, Scarlett realized just how thoroughly he’d planned her abduction—and murder.

  “You think I haven’t seen innocent men get framed before? I see it every day.” His laughter was cold. Cruel. “After all this time, I learned how to use the system.”

  “You learned how to set me up,” she whispered.

  He yanked on the ropes, and they cut into her skin. Agony shot up from her broken wrist.

  “You were supposed to go to prison. That’s where Ian was when he died. His life, your life. An even balance.”

  “I didn’t destroy Ian.” She wouldn’t give in to this jerk. “He did that to himself.”

  Pierce lunged at her, and Scarlett expected to feel the knife drive into her chest.

  Grant’s image flashed through her mind. A sob built in her throat.

  But the knife didn’t drive into her. Her attacker stilled, his eyes burning with emotion. “I’ve seen innocent men spend their lives in jail. I’ve seen the guilty walk free. I’ve let the guilty walk.” He shook his head. “No more. There has to be a judgment. No. More!”

  “I didn’t send Ian to jail!” She’d tried. “I wasn’t the one—”

  “Ian’s dead.” He said it simply. Chillingly. “I told you, there has to be a judgment.”

  Goose bumps rose onto her arms. “When did Ian die?”

  “Last year...last year...right before you walked into that damn party here in Austin. You were on Eric’s arm, smiling your fake smile, and I remembered you. I remembered what Ian told me about you.” Spittle flew from the lawyer’s mouth. “I tried to warn Eric about you. That you were trouble. That you cheated. Lied—”

  Understanding filled her. Too late. “That was why he hired Louis East.”

  Pierce smiled. “And I’m the one who told Justin that he had to be wary of you. That you were out to cut him from his brother’s life. The bond between brothers...it should be unbreakable.”

  When she thought of a bond between brothers, she didn’t think of Pierce and his twisted connection to Ian. She thought of Grant. The McGuire family. “Yes,” she said, breath rushing out. “It should be.”

  “I even went to Justin when he was in lockup at the police station. Told him that he had to act, or you’d take away his inheritance—everything that Eric had left. I warned Justin that you weren’t done with him yet. That you’d confessed to me that you killed Eric.” He laughed. “He was so easy to aim and use. After our little talk, I knew he’d go after you—or Grant McGuire.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” she said, giving a hard shake of her head. “You did, and the cops will realize it! They’ll find footage of you at that hospital. I—I told Grant that you had me! I—”

  He’d stilled. “What did you do?” Then his face twisted with rage. “Your phone! Your damn phone!” His hands flew over her, and he grabbed for the cell in her pocket. “I forgot the damn phone!”

  “Yes, you did.” He didn’t know she hadn’t been able to get service for long. “The cops know everything. They’re coming after you.”

  He whirled away from her. Started pacing. “They weren’t going to find your body. Without a body...prosecuting is nearly impossible. I was going to say you ran away, fled because you feared being sent to jail—”

  He was crazy. “You shot Davis! How were you going to explain that?” She yanked at the ropes. There was no give to them at all.

  “He shouldn’t have been with you.” Pierce’s shoulders were stiff, his fingers white as they gripped the knife. “You should have come alone to meet me, and then I never would have shot him. He wasn’t part of my plan.”

  “Your plan is insane! You aren’t getting away with this!”

 
He faced her once more. His brows lowered. “Maybe you shot Davis. Maybe he found out that you’d hired someone to try and kill Grant...” Pierce nodded. “Yes, that could work. You—you’re a black widow, that’s what you are. The press will have a field day. They’ll love—”

  “You’re the killer! You’re the one who is twisted!” She jerked hard against the bonds. The chair rocked. “Everything that has happened...it is on you!”

  Then she heard a faint sound. A whirring in the distance. Louder than wind, stronger.

  Pierce jerked, and she knew he’d heard that sound, too.

  “What the hell is that?” he demanded.

  She jerked once more on the ropes. The chair rocked, then toppled. She fell to the floor with a loud thump. Dust and dirt flew around her, and some of the wooden floor slats broke away as the legs of the chair crashed into them.

  Pierce whirled back toward her.

  The whirring grew louder. Closer.

  And she knew exactly what that sound was. A helicopter...closing in.

  Coming...for her?

  * * *

  “THE CABIN’S DOWN THERE!” Grant shouted.

  The pilot had already seen it and was bringing the bird around for a landing. They’d flown as fast as possible to get out here, and every moment had taken too long for Grant. He had to get to Scarlett.

  Before it was too late.

  Mac and Brodie were both silent in that chopper.

  Shayne was barking orders, getting officers to meet them on the ground, but those ground forces wouldn’t be able to arrive as quickly as the helicopter.

  “I see his car,” Grant said when the lights from the aircraft swept the scene. The car’s trunk hung open. “He’s there!” The cabin was dark, and he couldn’t see Pierce or Scarlett, but they had to be inside.

  The chopper lowered toward the ground. Grant jerked free of his harness. He shoved aside his headset. The force of the helicopter’s blades sent dust blowing and had the trees billowing.

  As soon as the bird touched down, Grant leaped outside. He was bleeding, he knew. Could feel the blood-soaked shirt clinging to him. More stitches had torn, and it was all he could do to keep upright, but there was no way he would fall. No way.