Rose swiped at the tears with the back of her hand.
Duke took a slow sip of his scotch.
His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “Afterward, he said no one would ever believe a punk like me, a poor kid from a broken home. He told me I was ungrateful, and he’d been nothin’ but nice to me, and I should try to please him. Justin guilt tripped me, and his threats worked. If I told her, he’d divorce my mom, and we’d end up on the street. She’d die without medical care.”
“He blackmailed you.”
“Yeah and he had perfect leverage. So I shut my mouth and took it… for nearly four years.”
Her weeks in captivity had been horrific, but Duke had lived in his hell for years. No wonder he’d come out the other side of his ordeal harder and colder.
“It was a routine. He’d come upstairs late at night after everyone had gone to bed and fuck me. I had nowhere to go, and I was too damn afraid and ashamed to tell anyone my stepfather was molesting me. So I took it—buried it down deep and tried not to think about it. Instead, I studied my ass off. I took honors classes, did extra credit, and joined every club that would have me, especially if they had after school meetings.”
She stared at the dancing flames, imagining Duke as a child with no power.
“It stopped around the time I turned seventeen, right after my mom died. I grew six inches in one summer, and I didn’t look or feel like his fucking boy-toy anymore. When he came to my room one night, I got up the courage to punch him in the gut. Then I wailed on him. My mom was dead, and he didn’t have a hold on me anymore. I gave him two black eyes, broken ribs, and he’s lucky I didn’t cut his fucking balls off.”
“Did he fight back?”
“Oh, he beat the shit out of me too, but I gave as good as I got. After that, I put a fucking lock on my door, and he left me the hell alone.”
“Duke, d-did you kill him?” She rolled over to see his face.
His smile was black as sin. “You bet your sweet ass I did.”
“Tell me.” She moved to a seated position beside him on the couch. “I need to know.” She chewed on her lower lip, waiting to hear the story.
“Why? So you can fantasize about offing Kent? It changes you, Rose.”
“I’m already a different person.”
“Yeah, you’ve been beaten down. You’ve been hurt, but you aren’t a murderer.”
“And you are?”
“I am. I was taught by the government how to be a sniper, and I was damn good at my job. Hell, maybe I enjoyed it a little too much.”
“You’re trying to scare me, so I step off this path.”
“Fuck. Yes, I am, Rose. It won’t lead anywhere you want to go.” He drained the rest of his drink.
“How did you kill him?” It was like she was obsessed—she needed to know.
“I shot him in the back of the head.”
Rose imagined shooting Kent—watching him pitch forward in an explosion of brains and blood.
“When?”
He searched her face, and from his expression, it was clear he didn’t like what he saw.
“During med school. By then, I had enough knowledge of the human body to make it quick and clinical.”
“Why did you wait so long? I don’t understand. You were close to becoming a doctor. Why did you risk it all?”
“Why didn’t I let it go? The way you have?”
“Point taken.”
“I was a hypocrite. I knew what my stepfather was, but I didn’t report him to the police. I was humiliated I’d let it go on so long. So I took his money and used it to pay for school, even though it ate at me. I told myself I deserved it for all he put me through. But I was taking hush money from him. I couldn’t do it anymore when I found out Justin was grooming another kid.”
“Oh, God.”
“The maid’s son. He was twelve years old, just like I’d been when he got the hots for me. I’d stopped by the house to drop off my tuition bill. Justin was supposed to be at work, but instead, I found him in the pool with the kid. They were laughing, floating together on the inner tubes, and he had a look on his face—that hungry, dirty look.”
Duke shuddered.
“I knew exactly what he was gonna do to the boy. Every motherfuckin’ detail. I could see it all play out in my head.” Then he faced her. “And I knew what I had to do—I made up my mind then and there to kill him.”
“How’d you do it?
“I made it look like a carjackin’ gone wrong. One night, he was getting in his car after work, and I waited in the backseat for him. I told him I knew what he was up to, and no amount of money could make up for what he stole from me and what he wanted to take from the boy.” Duke sighed. “Then I shot him, and no one even questioned it. There’d been a rash of carjackings in town. The police barely investigated—rubber-stamped it, moved on to the next case. And you know what the kicker was?”
“What?”
“Fucker made me his sole heir. Just didn’t have any kids, and his father had already died by that time. I bet he did it so I’d keep my mouth shut and wouldn’t damage the family reputation. And so help me—I can’t bring myself to spend any of it. It sits there in the bank. Everythin’ I’ve earned through legit or not so legit work. I’ll never touch a cent of that motherfucker’s money.”
“Is that why you joined the military? You didn’t have the money for school anymore?”
“No.” Duke stared at the floor, refusing to meet her gaze. “I figured I was better at takin’ lives than saving them.”
“You saved me.” She placed a hand over his.
Duke snorted. “I’ve corrupted you.” He snatched her up and squeezed her tight against his body. “I thought I could protect you—keep you from making my mistakes.”
“The damage was done before you even arrived on the scene.”
After an achingly long moment, Duke released her.
And then the Horsemen’s mask settled on his face, and he appeared unruffled, unaffected once more. She wondered if she’d imagined his outburst.
“You’re gonna kill Kent, aren’t you? You made up your mind? No hesitation.”
“Yes.” Rose had never been more sure of anything.
His shoulders sagged. “Then you aren’t doin’ it alone. I’ll help you, but you gotta dress for the part.”
“Which part?”
“Death.”
***
Twenty minutes later, they prowled around Inferno Firearms.
Rose stood near a gun case, gawking at the weapons. She wanted one so bad she couldn’t stand it. Steele stood on the other side of the counter, watching the two of them with a baffled expression.
“What happened to your hair? Last time I checked, you were a blonde.”
“I felt like a change.”
Steele didn’t press the issue.
Duke had a shopping basket on his arm, tossing in items like he was stocking up for the winter. He’d thrown in some ammo, a flashlight, a Taser, and he wasn’t done yet.
“You gonna buy Daisy Jr. here a gun?” Steele asked.
“Mind your own fuckin’ business.” Duke didn’t bother glancing up.
“A bit grumpier than usual.” For some reason, he seemed determined to poke the bear. “Who pissed in your oatmeal?”
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Duke fixed the other man with a cold stare.
“Can I have a gun?” she asked Duke.
“Fuck, no. You don’t need one because you don’t know how to shoot. I’m your gun. Why don’t you pick out somethin’ a little less baggy? You got any clothes in here, Steele?”
“Thought you wanted me to shut up.” Steele crossed his arms over his massively muscled chest.
Duke smirked. “I can help you with that, brother. I’m fixin’ to come over there and shove my fist down your—”
Rose interjected before he finished the thought. “Please show me where the clothes are?” she asked Steele.
With a curt nod, he led her
to the back aisle.
They had a small selection of clothing—mostly jeans and western shirts. Rose found a pair of black leather pants, matching cowboy boots, and a black baby doll t-shirt, along with a dark hoodie. The clothing would be a tight fit, and it worked with her badass makeover.
And no, she wasn’t worried about wearing it. She had a job to do, and she’d dress the part.
When he finished shopping, Duke paid for their purchases. Rose went to the bathroom to change into her new duds, and then they hauled everything out to his motorcycle. Duke nodded approvingly when she showed him.
He carefully packed his saddlebags.
“Coyote found out where Kent is?” she asked.
“Yeah, he sent me a text with the location this morning. Coyote pinged the towers, and his location popped up. It’s a lead, at least. There’s no guarantee Kent is there. He could’ve tossed the cell as soon as he heard back from the guard.”
“I know, but we should check it out.”
“I agree.”
Rose could feel the hum of adrenaline running through her body—like a war drum. Her heartbeat picked up, her skin tingled. Soon, she and Kent would have their last confrontation.
It was about damn time.
***
Later that night, Rose followed Duke as they skulked around the edges of Kent’s property. The cell phone had been traced to an old dairy barn three towns over, which had undergone some serious gentrification.
It was currently a rental property for ‘the discerning Texan’, according to the realty website. Kent had cash to burn, and it was out in the boonies, perfect for his disturbing purposes.
They found two cars in the parking lot. Thankfully, no CCTV cameras.
Duke pulled out his phone. “I’ll text the license plate numbers to Coyote. He’ll tell us who these belong to.” He thumbed the text and waited for an answer.
“You ready?”
Rose shrugged. “As I’ll ever be.”
He’d insisted she wear a Kevlar vest, and he had her carry a switchblade and a Taser. Even if she wasn’t emotionally ready, she was physically good to go.
A few minutes later, his phone vibrated.
“One car belongs to his security firm, the other to Kent.” He frowned. “I got a bad feelin’ about this. Yeah, he’s a perv, but he ain’t stupid. Kent should’ve ditched the phone and bugged the fuck out of this place once he found out we were on to him.”
“You think it’s a trap?”
“Hell, yeah. Think about it. You’re deliverin’ yourself to his doorstep—no more stalking required. I bet he didn’t want to risk another kidnapping, especially now that you’re extra wary.”
Well, crap.
That left two options, neither of them appealing—bust into a trap or go home and wait for another attack.
“You’re Mr. Special Forces. What do you think we should do?”
He mulled it over. “This might be my paranoia talking, but the smart thing to do would be to go home and regroup, get ready for his next move.”
Damn. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“But we should still go in—though we need to be even more careful.”
“Why are you going along with this?’
“You want it over with, don’t you?”
“God yes.”
She was sick of waiting, worrying. She couldn’t take one more night of this crap.
“So let’s do this.”
Rose followed him to the back entrance of the house. Duke moved like a shadow, deftly creeping towards the door—despite his large size, he made very little noise.
Rose did her best to mirror his movements, but she was nowhere near as stealthy. They trailed along the rose garden, staying low. The moon was a thin sickle in the sky and didn’t cast much light.
Eventually, they stood on either side of the back door, pressed against the wood.
“Ready?” he mouthed.
She nodded.
Holding up a hand, Duke counted it down –three, two, one. Then he kicked in the door—but it swung open on its own.
“Oh, fuck. That ain’t good.”
He cocked his pistol and entered.
Rose followed, tiptoeing through the kitchen behind him. They got half way across the linoleum floor when the broom closet swung open behind them. Before either of them could make a run for it, the cold steel of a double-barrel shotgun settled between Rose’s shoulder blades.
Chapter Nineteen
“Turn around, real slow.”
Rose winced—she recognized the voice instantly–Lester, Mr. Cheap Suit himself.
Duke tensed beside her, and Rose could almost hear him mentally calculating the risks involved in trying to shoot his way out of this predicament.
“Try anything and I’ll blow a hole right through you.”
Duke turned, still brandishing his gun, and Lester kept his weapon trained on the biker. Rose turned, trying hard to not make any sudden movements that’d get her shot.
“Drop your weapons!”
Instead, Duke cocked his pistol. “How about I paint the wall with you instead?”
Rose gulped. She had a case of the shakes while Duke was unflappable, just another day at the office.
“I’d blow a hole the size of a grapefruit in your gut. You’d be dead too.”
Duke shrugged. “Suits me fine. Long as you won’t be walking out of here.”
With a shit-eating grin, the guard trained his weapon on Rose instead. The muscles in her calves clenched, urging her to run, but she stood rooted to the spot—dealt with her fear.
“Fuck.”
“Drop your weapons, or I’ll shoot her instead.”
“Really? I don’t think your boss would like that idea so much,” Duke said.
“Yeah? I don’t give a shit. That little bitch was itchin’ to gut me last night. I might get fired, but I don’t care as long as she’s six feet under. Now drop your fuckin’ weapons.”
With a muttered curse, Duke dropped the gun, and she did the same with the knife and Taser. Lester scooped them up and tucked the weapons in his jacket pocket.
Lester looked Duke up and down. “You got anything else?”
“You’re welcome to search me.” Duke raised his hands.
Lester stepped forward but then thought better of it.
“Keep your hands where I can see ’em. No sudden movements.”
“Where’s Kent?” she asked.
“So eager to see him, bitch? Don’t worry, he’s close. I know he wants to get his hands on you real soon.”
Duke muttered a vicious curse.
Rose tamped down on a wave of revulsion.
“No smart-mouthed comment? Not so brave with a gun pointed at you, huh?” He studied her hair more closely. “What the fuck did you do to yourself?”
That spurred her temper, and the sarcasm came tumbling out. “You want to talk beauty tips?” Rose eyed his cheap suit.
Duke snorted.
“You two think this is a joke?” Lester lifted the gun.
“Everything about you is a joke,” Rose retorted. Goldilocks might’ve been afraid, but she wasn’t.
Lester looked daggers at her.
“How do you like my smart mouth?”
“I’m gonna like stuffing my dick in it again.”
“Touch her and you’re a dead man.” Duke said the words like it was a foregone conclusion.
Rose glanced at the guard. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up and take us to him?”
Duke didn’t say anything, but a grin tugged at his lips. He was proud of her, and it filled her with a rush of warmth.
Lester didn’t acknowledge the comment, but he gestured with the gun. “Move straight ahead, slow and steady, and keep your fucking mouths closed!”
He marched them into the living room where Kent sat on a leather couch with a cup of tea in his hand, as if this was a perfectly normal evening.
Rose and Duke stepped forward until they stood in front
of him, hands still in the air. Lester was behind them, shotgun at the ready.
“Hello, my love.” Kent’s eyes slid over every single inch of her—and she felt like showering on the spot. “Oh, Goldilocks,” he said, shaking his head, “we’ll have to take drastic measures to correct that atrocity.”
“My body, my business.”
She forced herself to appear composed, but adrenaline surged through her body—her heart hammered, her breath quickened.
“You’re mistaken—your body belongs to me.” He traced one long finger along the edge of his teacup. “I own it, remember?” Kent stood, set his mug down, and then reached for her.
Duke stepped directly in his path. “Touch her and die, asshole.” The two men stared at one another, toe-to-toe.
Several tense moments passed.
Eventually, Kent shuffled backward—offering a wintry smile to match his frosty eyes. “I can see you brought your biker friend.” He spoke to her as though Duke didn’t exist.
“I ain’t her friend, I’m her lover.”
Kent clenched his teeth but didn’t acknowledge the other man.
“You’ll be punished for your infidelity, but we have more pressing matters at the moment. Namely, your friend’s criminal record. I’m afraid he’s got quite the rap sheet.”
“What about it?” Rose had a bad feeling.
Kent slid his cell phone from the pocket of his trousers. “I’m an officer of the court,” he said, widening his eyes, trying to appear innocent. “This man broke into my home, armed. Who knows what he had planned? Theft? Murder?” he said, rehearsing the way he would tell his story to the cops. Kent dropped the act. “In my professional opinion, with his record, this doesn’t look good.”
What a bastard.
“Unless you decide not to file charges?” Rose could see where with this was headed.
“Well, aren’t you the smart one?”
“You can’t press charges if you’re dead,” Duke said softly.
Finally, Kent acknowledged Duke. “Brave talk, but I’m not the one with a shotgun pointed at my back.”
“Go ahead, call the cops. I’ll tell them what you did to me—all of it.” No, this couldn’t go down this way.
Kent laughed. “And did you report this alleged crime to the police before tonight?”
Joy Ride: A Virgin Romance (Let it Ride Book 3) Page 32