Skirting the Ice (The Bannister Brothers #3)

by Jennie Marts

  She tried for a less combative tone. “You never said anything. I didn’t even know.”

  His lips formed a tight line then he offered her a bitter smile. “You never gave me a chance.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  His expression softened. “I wanted to. But I didn’t know how. I’ve never been good with that stuff. And then we watched that movie about the secret admirer, and I decided to try that idea—to leave you a few notes and flowers, just to let you know that someone was thinking of you.”

  She thought back to those first notes and remembered how she’d originally thought they were a little sweet and that maybe she had an admiring fan. They hadn’t seemed as scary or as sinister as they later became.

  “But you didn’t like them,” Carl continued. “You were scared. You thought they were creepy. So I got mad and changed the tone of that one note.” He looked down at her, and a sinister smile crept across his face. “I remember that day. The way that your face pinched with dread and your hands shook when you showed me the note. I offered you a hug, and I could feel you trembling in my arms. And I fucking loved it. Loved the way that you clung to me. It was something I’d never felt before. It was addictive—feeling that kind of power over someone’s emotions. Knowing that I could instill such fear, such terror, in another person.”

  This guy was crazy. Murphy could see it in the hungry gleam that shone in his eyes and the white flecks of spittle trapped in the corners of his lips.

  She glanced around the parking lot, looking for a chance to escape, for something, anything, to distract him.

  He had her trapped between his bulk and the back of the car, the hard barrel of the gun digging into her side.

  Tightening his grip on her, he stared ominously into her eyes. “Kind of like the way you’re acting now. I can feel your body shaking, quivering with fear. You have no idea how it turns me on to know that I can control your thoughts, your emotions. That I am always on your mind. Even if it’s only fear or anger you’re feeling, those are strong emotions that I instilled.”

  He reached behind her, grabbing a thin white zip tie from the floor of the trunk. “Hold out your hands,” he commanded.

  Terror churned in her belly, filling her chest with a deep black fear, but she didn’t know what else to do. She needed to bide her time, wait for the perfect opportunity to try to escape. She held out her hands, praying that a car would drive by, that someone would come to her rescue.

  He secured her wrists with one hand, the one holding the gun, and she felt the pinch of metal as the trigger bit into her skin. Using his free hand, he wrapped the zip tie around her wrists, threading it through the end and tightening it closed. “You shouldn’t have moved away, Murphy, shouldn’t have left me. The more I thought about that, the angrier I got. And the more I wanted to make you pay. And every time I thought about how I would make you pay, I’d get more excited. I imagined the way I could make you scream, make you beg, make you cower in fear.”

  Who was this man? He was nothing like the sweet guy that she’d once thought she knew. It was like something had snapped, and he’d come unhinged. Or hell, maybe he’d always been like this. Maybe he’d done this to other women. That thought terrified her.

  That and the idea that he was going to take her somewhere and make her scream and beg and cower in fear, and that those plans were turning him on.

  She knew that he was getting excited, could feel his arousal pressed against her hip, and she fought to control the bile that filled her throat. She had to stay calm, keep him talking, anything to avoid getting into that trunk. “So, this is all about power? About feeling in control? You don’t even really like me?”

  He smiled at her again. She hated that smile—could feel the evil disguised in his grin.

  “I do like you,” he whispered huskily against her ear. “I like you a lot. You’re all I think about. Your long blond hair, your perfect tits, and the way you smell.” He ran his hand up her waist and roughly fondled her breast as he leaned into her neck and licked her skin.

  Her knees turned to jelly, and her legs threatened to give way. Terror like nothing she’d ever imagined consumed her and black smudges curtained her vision as she struggled not to pass out.

  “I’ve got plans for you,” he said against into her ear. “I’ve thought it all out—already rented a secluded cabin way back in the woods—isolated where no one can hear you scream. No one except me.”

  He licked her again—his tongue thick and dry, and she could smell garlic on his hot breath. She tried not to vomit. Although maybe she should vomit. On him. Maybe that’s the distraction that would give her a chance to get away.

  It wouldn’t take much. Just having him touch her, having the smell of his body odor that clung to his sweatshirt fill her nostrils, already made her want to gag.

  “I think I’m going to throw up,” she said, sweat breaking out on her forehead.

  “Don’t you dare, bitch,” he growled in her ear, but pulled back an inch, shifting his weight to get hold of her body and force her down into the trunk.

  She tried to push back, but he was too strong, and she lost her footing and fell backward into the open space. Throwing her arms out, she tried to fight him, beating at his face and his chest with her bound hands.

  She didn’t care anymore that he had a gun—she wasn’t getting locked into that trunk—wasn’t going to the secluded cabin in the woods. He’d have to shoot her first.

  He lifted his hand, the one holding the gun, as if preparing to swing it toward her face.

  She cringed, tightening her muscles as she anticipated the blow.

  But instead of hitting her, a guttural cry sounded from behind him, and she caught sight of the end of her hockey stick swinging in an arc as it crashed into Carl’s shoulders.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Murphy screamed as Carl’s weight fell on top of her. She heard the sound of his gun clattering to the ground as she scrambled to get out from under his bulk.

  Behind him, she saw Jack, wielding her hockey stick in his hands like a bat, and she wanted to weep with relief.

  How did he find her?

  She didn’t care. She was just so damn glad to see him. She clambered out of the trunk, staggering forward as she tried to stand on her shaky legs.

  Jack took another swing, the stick cutting through the air and hitting Carl in the back with a sickening thud.

  Carl shook his head, huffing out his breath in an angry rage the same way that a caged bull would do before being let out of the pen. Pushing off the fender of the car, he spun around, charging at Jack, and driving his head into his stomach.

  She heard the air leave Jack’s lungs in a whoosh of air as he stumbled backwards.

  But he didn’t go down.

  Regaining his footing, he charged back, knocking Carl in the head with the hockey stick.

  Carl reeled, tripping on his feet and sagging back against the car.

  “Get him in the trunk,” Jack yelled as he surged forward, pushing the other man’s body toward the open trunk.

  Her hands were still bound together, but Jack’s firm command sprung her into action, and she rushed forward, slamming the side of her body into Carl’s in the most important check of her life. Because there were no referees, no one to blow the whistle, and the penalty for her missing this play could be her life.

  And she wasn’t about to let that happen.

  Her shoulder crashed into Carl’s, and he toppled sideways into the trunk.

  Jack dropped the stick and made a grab for his legs, lifting them up and using his body weight to shove the other man further into the trunk.

  He dropped his legs and reached for the top of the door, slamming it down, and sealing Carl inside.

  Jack sagged against the back of the car. “Are you okay?” He opened his arms, and she fell into them, ignoring the swearing and pounding that was coming from inside the trunk.

  “I am now.” She let him hold her, pressi
ng her face into his neck, her hands still trussed together with the zip tie. “I still can’t believe you’re here. How did you even find me?”

  “By using what I’m good at—my reasoning and intelligence, and a few smart computer skills. I figured out that Carl was the one who installed spyware onto your laptop and that he had the means and the opportunity to be in Denver the last few weeks.” He explained that he’d been on his way to warn her when his mom had shown up and told him about the text that was supposedly from him.

  He dug his keys from his pocket and used one of them to saw at the twist tie until it broke apart and fell to the ground. “I signed into your live messages and saw the message, then I came as fast as I could. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

  “I don’t care about that. I just care that you showed up at all. You saved me.” She shook her numb hands out, the feeling returning to her fingers through what felt like hundreds of tiny pin prickles.

  Jack gently massaged her wrists. “I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

  She snatched her hands back and narrowed her eyes at him, wanting to believe him, but the events of the day slammed back into her mind. Especially the event where she’d seen a naked woman in his arms. “What about your girlfriend?” Just saying the word left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “What girlfriend?”

  He had the nerve to look confused. Except he really did seem to be confused.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Jack. I came over earlier today to bring you some brownies and talk. But I wasn’t expecting a woman in a towel to answer your door.”

  “You mean Kali? She’s not my girlfriend.” His face registered genuine disgust.

  But she’d seen the proof with her own eyes. “I saw you, Jack. This afternoon, with her, through my window upstairs. She was naked and all over you.”

  “Then you must not have watched for very long, or you would have seen me push her away and kick her the hell out of my house. That woman was my old girlfriend, the one who gave me Maggie. Things didn’t work out in California so she came home and thought I’d welcome her back with open arms.”

  “Did you?” She wanted to believe him, believe in him.

  “Hell no. I told her to hit the road, then she threatened to take Maggie with her.”

  Murphy gasped. She knew she didn’t like that chick. “You didn’t let her, did you?”

  “Of course not. I said that Maggie was mine and told her to pack up her stuff, get out, and never come back. She took off, and then my mom said she saw her getting into a car to leave with Rich.”

  “With Rich?”

  “I guess. I say those two deserve each other.”

  “I agree. Except when he came over tonight, he was under the misguided conception that I was interested in him. He brought pizza and beer and thought we were on some kind of date.”

  “Beer? You don’t even like beer.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Jack did know her. “That’s not the point. Why did you send Rich to my house?”

  “Because I couldn’t be there myself, and I thought he would be a better match for you. And up until tonight, I thought that you were interested in him.”

  “What in the hell would make you think I was interested in him?”

  “Because he told me you were. He told everyone you were. Back in high school, that night in the basement when we played that stupid game.”

  “You mean the night that we kissed?”

  His shoulders slumped. “Yeah, that night. The night I blew it and let Rich take you into that closet. Then he spent the rest of the summer telling everyone that you had been all over him when you were in there.”

  “What? That’s a lie.”

  “I know that now. He told me tonight that he’d made it up.”

  “Jack, I told him that I liked you. And I thought you had liked me, too. But I came out of the closet, and you were gone. I couldn’t find you anywhere, so I assumed that I had instigated the kiss and you must not have even liked me. Which I totally understood because you were so smart, and I was just a dumb jock.”

  His mouth had dropped open. “Stop it. You’re not dumb. You never have been. But you’re right about how I felt about you. I didn’t like you.”

  Her heart sank. She knew it—knew that the only reason they had kissed was because she’d kissed him. She looked down, training her eyes on a patch of grease on the asphalt. How could she look at him when she’d made such a fool of herself?

  He reached out, took her face in his hands and tilted her chin up toward him. “Murphy, I didn’t like you then, I was head over heels in love with you. And I still am. You’re the first, and the only girl that I have ever loved.”

  He loved her? Did he just say that he loved her?

  “But you didn’t make a move, that night, when the can pointed between you and Rich, you didn’t do anything. You didn’t choose me.”

  “That’s because I was scared to death. Murphy, you were right about me, I was and I have been a coward. And I’m sorry as hell about that. But I’m not afraid anymore. I should have chosen you then—I screwed up—but I’m choosing you now. Because you’re worth fighting for. And I’m never letting you go again.”

  He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close, deepening the kiss.

  Heat filled her like molten chocolate, spreading through her stomach and curling her toes.

  The sound of a siren startled them apart and red and blue lights flashed through the air as a police cruiser pulled into the parking lot and screeched to a stop.

  Rich got out and ran over to them. “You guys all right?”

  Jack looked at her, then a wicked grin crossed his face. He took one step forward, pulled his fist back, and delivered a roundhouse punch to Rich’s chin.

  The other man’s face jerked sideways, and he stumbled back a couple of steps. “What the hell was that for?” he asked, rubbing his chin.

  “That was for high school,” Jack answered, rubbing his knuckles, pretty sure that he’d done more damage to his own fist than he’d done to the other man’s face.

  Richie shrugged, seemingly unfazed. “All right, I deserved that. But you only get one swing, Jackie. You try that again, and I’ll knock your head off. We square?”

  Jack nodded. “You’re square with me, but I don’t know about her.” He jerked a thumb her direction.

  Rich offered her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Murph. It was a long time ago. I was just a dumb kid.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “But only because Jack already slugged you. It was a long time ago. Bygones.”

  Jack wasn’t completely ready to let him off the hook. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “I went to the other Chinese food restaurant—the one on Fourth. When I couldn’t find you, I remembered this place.” He looked them up and down. “But you guys seem okay. I thought you said that the stalker was going to be here.”

  “He is here.” Jack knocked on the back end of the car and furious pounding came from inside the trunk.

  “Holy shit.” Rich’s eyes widened as the car shook with Carl’s muffled, but violent, response. “I better call for some backup.”

  It took close to an hour for another squad car to arrive, to take everyone’s statements, and then to transfer a very pissed off Carl into the back of the cruiser.

  Murphy and Jack stood in the empty parking lot watching as the police car and the tow truck hauling Carl’s car drove away.

  He slid his arm around her waist, drawing her to his side. “You ready to go home?”

  “Not quite yet.” She put a hand on his chest and looked up at him. “Before we go, I want to be clear on where we stand. On what’s happening with us. If there even is an ‘us.’”

  He brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek and placed a soft kiss there. “I hope there’s an ‘us.’ I want there to be. I’m hoping that you’ll give me another chance to prove that I ca
n be the man you believe I am. Are you willing to give it another shot?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I never wanted to let go of the first shot we had. I’m in love with you, Jack Bannister, I always have been. Since I was sixteen years old and you kissed me during an algebra lesson. And I think I heard you say that you love me, too.”

  He drew her tighter against him, his tone as serious as the look in his eyes. “I do love you, Murphy. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that before. I realized tonight that I’ve been making this whole thing harder than it has to be. Sometimes the solution is simple. Like with us, sometimes it’s staring you right in the face.”

  “So what do you see as the solution?” She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

  “The answer is simple. I love you. That part’s easy. And you say you love me, too. So it should be straightforward, but love is messy and relationships can be complicated. It’s just like algebra. In math, every problem has a solution. And even the most difficult equations come down to two things in the end—the variables that you mix together. And the most basic equation is like love itself, X + 1 = 2. You plus me equals us. Together we make the perfect answer.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “So you’ve narrowed our whole relationship down to an algebra equation?”

  He shrugged and let out a chuckle. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “You are such a dork.” She shook her head then pressed a kiss to his lips. “But you’re my dork. So you better take me home. Because I do love you, Jack Bannister. And I might not be a math whiz, but I know that my love for you will continue to multiply, and I will do my best to never divide your heart.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Jack set the stack of napkins down on the picnic table and grinned as he watched Murphy laughing with his mom. The two of them had been in the kitchen all day—Murphy’s new and improved kitchen—preparing for the family barbecue they’d scheduled for that night.

  His dad had pulled the grill out into the driveway and juicy hamburgers were already sizzling on the fire. Jack had been in charge of setting up the picnic tables and carrying out the mountains of food that Murphy and his mom had made.