by Hilliard, RB
Table of Contents
Bleed For Her
Copyright
Five years earlier . . .
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Acknowledgments
About RB Hilliard
Other Books by RB Hilliard
Copyright © RB Hilliard, 2019
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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Warning: This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Names, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any similarities to real persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Editor – Christian Brose
Proofing – Roxane Leblanc
Cover designer – Just Write Creations and Services
Cover model – Justin Forsyth
Photographer – Justin Forsyth
Formatting – CP Smith
Five years earlier . . .
BUCK WATCHED AS the car screeched to a halt in front of the apartment complex. A truck following closely in its wake pulled to a stop behind it. As the car’s passenger-side door flew open and a familiar figure emerged, relief washed through him. His lips turned up as he watched the figure race across the parking lot, her wild, red mane streaking behind her. Piper O’Connell was a force of nature. She’d given his buddy, Gage, quite the chase. Buck’s eyes shifted back to the truck. Speak of the devil himself. There stood Gage, his body on full alert, his head turned toward the complex, and his eyes trained on Piper. It was then that Buck let the smile shine through. She’d brought the cavalry and then some, he mused. Dooley and Zeke were going to lose, and Gage was going to exact payback. Buck was counting on it. His phone buzzed against his dashboard. Dooley’s name flashed across the screen and the smile melted into a grimace.
With a swipe of a finger, he lifted the phone to his ear, and answered, “Yo.”
“Any news?” Dooley clipped.
“Nope.” The one-word response was received with a long, silent pause.
“Am I boring eyou, Mr. Buckson? If so, I’m sure I can find something more exciting for you to do.” That’s what Buck was afraid of.
“Naw, I’m good.”
“Are you sure about that?” Jesus, he fucking despised Dooley Shane.
“You asked me to watch her and that’s what I’m doing,” Buck said, right as the apartment door swung open and Reyn erupted with her suitcase in tow. Gone was the vibrant blonde-haired beauty and in her place was a haggard, beaten down shell of a woman. Fucking Zeke. Buck had made many mistakes in his life but letting Zeke Mirenis stake claim to Reynolds Walker was the worst yet. His chest squeezed as he watched the two women embrace. Piper’s head tipped down as she spoke into Reyn’s ear and Reyn slowly nodded in response. Buck could barely make out her face, but from what he could see, it was etched in pain. Somehow, some way, he was going to make Zeke pay for what he’d done. Dooley, too. Seconds passed before Piper gave the driver of the car a thumbs-up. As the two women raced across the parking lot, Buck was struck by the same thought he’d had a million times before. She should have been mine.
It appeared that Dooley and Zeke had underestimated Reyn. Zeke liked to claim she was another stupid snatch, but she was far from it. She was smart. Smart enough to bide her time and play the part of Zeke’s brainless girlfriend, even though it was killing her to do so. And it was killing her. Buck could see it. Every time Zeke called her a name or smacked her around, which was often, the light in her eyes dimmed a little more. They wanted him to watch her . . . to help them use her. Buck couldn’t help but wonder, and then what? His mother would be ashamed. Out of desperation he’d given them what they wanted, but at what cost?
It was no surprise that Reyn had discovered him spying on her. It took her two whole days to get up enough nerve to approach him. Her words, and the way she held herself, as if she was already broken beyond repair, would haunt him until his dying day. I have friends coming for me, Buck. Please let me go. I’m begging you. You know Zeke. He’s a cheater and a liar. You’re my only hope. If you don’t let me go, you know—you know—I won’t survive this.
With a slight shake of his head, Buck directed his focus back to his conversation with Dooley. “Sorry, man. It looks like Piper isn’t coming. What do you want me to do now?”
“Stay on Reyn. Trust me, Piper will be there. Call when you have news.” The call ended as the women reached the car. While the driver grabbed Reyn’s bag, Piper had words with Gage. From the look of it, they weren’t pleasant. Finally, she broke away and ducked inside the car.
“Go, baby,” Buck whispered at Reyn, who for some reason was hesitating. Her head suddenly turned and her blue-eyed gaze swept over the parked cars, as if searching for something. Buck wanted it to be him. As if reading his thoughts, her eyes landed on him and held. A million unsaid words passed between them. Be careful. Find happiness. I wish it could have been me, he thought.
“Thank you,” Reyn mouthed, and before he could respond, she wrenched open the car door and disappeared inside. Both vehicles sped away. As they faded out of sight, he took a deep breath.
She was safe. He could now breathe easy.
_______________
Seven hours later…
“Hold him steady,” Zeke growled. Buck grunted in pain as a fist barreled into his solar plexus. He’d give it to the man; Zeke could bring a punch home. Buck took account of his injuries. At this point he was positive that his cheekbone was fractured, knew that several ribs were cracked, and was almost sure that his right kneecap was dislocated. He could barely see out of his left eye, his right ear wouldn’t stop ringing, and he was coughing up blood, which he hoped was on account of the damaged ribs and not something worse.
When Zeke finally tracked him down and discovered that Buck wasn’t watching Reyn’s apartment but was instead sitting on his sofa drinking a beer, he put two and two together. About time, the dumb motherfucker. Buck landed a few good shots, but he was no match for Zeke. He was certainly no match for Dooley Shane. Dooley wasn’t just a master manipulator—he was certifiably insane.
Buck thought he’d gotten away. He knew it was wrong to use his mother’s cancer as an excuse to cut bait and run, but it worked. And then Dooley had called, wanting Buck to come back. “Two simple jobs,” he’d said. He was willing to pay big. Not only that, but he would cover Buck’s mom’s chemo. Buck was too embarrassed t
o lean on his family, so he agreed. Never, in a million years, did he see this coming.
“We know everything, Bucko. We know where they are and who has them. While you’re stuck in this hellhole, I’m going to hunt down your precious Reyn. Once I have her, I’m going to stick my cock in her while I carve her into tiny little pieces,” Zeke whispered into Buck’s ear. Buck reared his head back, but the fucker moved in time to miss the connection.
“Zeke, man, we need to go!” Lester, another of Dooley’s henchmen, called out from somewhere in the room.
“Make sure his binds are secure and gag him. We can’t have him warning the bitches that we’re coming. I’ll call you when it’s done,” Zeke said.
Ice-cold tendrils of fear speared through Buck, and he screamed, “Don’t you touch her, you motherfu—” The gag cut him off, jerking his head back so violently he saw stars.
Buck was discovered three days later.
Dooley was dead.
Zeke was dead.
And because of what he’d let happen, Reyn would never be the same . . .
Chapter One
Five years later . . .
REYN SAT IN her car—a car that, on account of her being too big of a chicken to go home—was currently parked across the street and one house down from her own. Rain poured from the sky. Rain meant change. Change was good, right? She gazed out her car window at the multi-colored stone pavers glistening beneath the wet surface of her driveway. Custom selected, they were a reminder of how much she loved her new home. It was her safety net, her refuge. It was the one place in the world where she was free to let down her hair and be herself. Now, staring at those pretty stone pavers, she thought, Stop stalling, Reyn. Sighing, she dropped her head back onto the seat and closed her eyes. As much as she wanted to take charge of the situation, she couldn’t seem to make herself do it. Her heart ached. Not because she was in love, but because she wasn’t. It wasn’t in her nature to love. Not anymore. She’d been there before and still carried the scars from it. Why couldn’t she be normal? Why couldn’t she have a simple relationship with a nice guy? Because it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. For the better part of a year, she had been lying to herself, and now poor Tom was going to pay for those lies.
The gig was up. Thanks to her best friend, Camille, Reyn now knew what tonight was. She knew that he was waiting inside for her—waiting to pop the question. He was waiting to hear her say yes, so they could start their shiny, happy forever together. Any other woman would be racing for the door, ecstatically sprinting toward the promise of what was to come. But Reyn wasn’t like other women. She was damaged. Scarred for life. Forever was never for a girl like her. Even if she was head over heels for the guy, which she was not, she would still say no. He deserved someone whole. Someone who believed. And as much as she wanted to kick Camille for letting the cat out of the bag, Reyn was thankful, because she would have been blindsided, and she didn’t exactly react well when backed into a corner. Her hand drifted to her stomach, to the scar that was now more internal than external, and in a quiet, pain-filled voice, whispered, “I’m so sorry.” Then, on a loud exhale, Reynolds Walker started up her car and pulled into her driveway.
In order to buy more time, she bypassed her usual parking spot in front of the house. Rain pelted her windshield as she slowly pulled down the hill and into the safety of her very dry garage. She rarely used the garage, partly because it was located a good distance from the house, but mostly because it teetered on a ledge of sorts. Well, not exactly a ledge, but more like a bluff. Parking inside the garage made her nervous. What if there was a mud slide, or even an earthquake? Moments like tonight, however, when she was on the verge of dumping her almost-fiancé, she was thankful to have a garage at all.
After lingering inside her car for long enough to risk possible carbon monoxide poisoning, Reyn turned it off. With a slight twist of her torso, she reached into the back seat and grabbed her bag. Grimacing at her less than optimal circumstances, she snagged the umbrella from the passenger floorboard and shoved open her car door. Dread dogged her every step as she made the trek up the driveway to the mudroom entrance. Once inside, she slid the umbrella into its one-of-a-kind custom stand, before lowering her bag to the floor. She quickly shucked off her raincoat and with a backward lift of each leg, pulled off her heels. Then she turned to face the hall door. Beyond the mudroom was a hallway. Beyond that was the kitchen and the great room, where Tom was waiting for her. Poor Tom. In all the time she’d known him, he’d never raised his voice, much less spoken a mean word to her. Yes, he was boringly predictable, but he was also safe, and safe was what she’d wanted. Safe was good. It was the boringly predictable part she couldn’t seem to get past.
“You can do this,” she whispered. No, she couldn’t. Shoulders slumping, she collapsed onto the bench. Why did relationships have to be so hard? Like tiny little ants hyped up on sugar, a million different thoughts scattered through her brain. Maybe I should wait. If he asks, which it’s possible he won’t, I could tell him I’m not ready for such a big step. I’m so not the marrying type. She thought of her car sitting in the garage. I could always leave. No, she loved her house too much. Not to mention her job. She loved working for Austin City Limits—loved it so much that she decided to move back because of it. In the middle of trying to get up enough nerve, she noticed a wet spot on her skirt. Brushing her fingers over it, she thought, One should be comfortable when breaking bad news, shouldn’t they? Nothing said breakup better than an over-sized t-shirt and a pair of slouchy sweats. All she had to do was bypass the entrance to the kitchen and she would be safe inside her bedroom. While there, she would quickly change clothes. Maybe by then she would also grow a backbone.
The knowledge that at least three nights a week she would arrive home from work to find Tom sitting on her sofa, drinking a scotch while watching some form of sports, once comforted her. That she’d grown to resent it, to resent that he was in her house at all, spoke volumes. With that thought, she straightened her shoulders and stood. Gently pulling open the mudroom door, she quietly stepped into the hallway. As she snuck by the entrance to the kitchen, she peered over the island, past the barstools and into the great room where she expected to see the back of Tom’s head.
The great room was one of her favorite places in the house. Not only did it have a gigantic, stone fireplace framed by built-in bookcases, it also had glass doors that opened onto a deck that spanned the entire back of the house. The view was simply stunning. Tom also loved it. Speaking of Tom, where was he? His large head with the funky receding hairline that he referred to as a “cowlick” didn’t appear to be sitting in his usual spot on the sofa. A sickening thought struck. What if he was in the bedroom waiting for her? Her eyes skittered down the hallway to her partially open bedroom door. Great, now she was stuck. What should she do? It was in the midst of her panic that she spotted a strange object lying on the floor beside her great room sofa. Being that she was all the way across two rooms in the hallway, she couldn’t be sure, but it kind of looked like someone’s hand.
All of a sudden, her worry over discovering Tom in her bedroom seemed trivial. Pushing onto her tiptoes, Reyn leaned forward to get a better look. It was when the pinky finger of said hand moved, or rather twitched, that she began to panic. Dropping back to her heels, she thought, Tom. The muscles in her legs bunched as her fight-or-flight instinct began to kick in. She was going to run, but in what direction, she wasn’t sure. If something was wrong with Tom, she needed to help him! So why wasn’t she? Her brain had literally frozen. She was trying to decide what to do when something from the opposite side of the room caught her attention. Not something, but someone. She had just enough time to take in the fact that a strange man was inside her house, before her brain unfroze and her instincts came back on-line. As the stranger stepped further into the room, Reyn back stepped out of the kitchen, moving towards the safety of the hallway. Once she was out of his line of sight, she pressed her back flat to the w
all and waited for the spots to clear from her vision. If she didn’t pull herself together, she would pass out, and that would be a bad, bad thing.
“She’s not here,” a voice called out. Biting back a gasp, she thought, who is he speaking to?
“What a fucking mess. Rye is going to be pissed,” a second voice replied. That there was more than one person in her house, that they’d hurt Tom and were clearly looking for her, made her earlier problems seem laughable. They’d hurt Tom. Tears sprang to her eyes. Why would anyone want to hurt Tom?
“Did you check the master?” the first voice asked.
“I thought you did,” the second voice responded.
Shit! They were headed her way! In a mad dash she sprinted for the mudroom. She barely had enough time to pick up her coat and shoes and flip off the light before the intruders reached the hallway. Crazy thoughts whirled through her head. Who are they and why are they looking for her? It didn’t make sense. Did this have to do with what happened before? If so, why now? She’d lived life so carefully. Even when she hadn’t wanted to, she had. She’d done everything right. She’d picked the perfect house in the perfect neighborhood, far away from the seedy part of town. She didn’t choose the bad boy, and as much as she may have wanted to be a bad girl, she hadn’t. She’d done everything right, colored so far within the damn lines it wasn’t even funny, and yet here she was, scared out of her mind. As usual, whenever something bad happened in her life, her mind went there. Back to that place she’d spent five years digging out of. Zeke is dead. Dooley is dead. Selina is dead. Lester is dead. They’re all dead, she chanted over and over in her head. The sound of footsteps in the hallway forced her out of her panicked thoughts. Right as she slid behind the mudroom door, one of her heels slipped from her hand. She bit back a gasp as it hit the floor with a muted thud.
“She’s not in the bedroom!” voice one called out. He was the guy from the great room. She tried to recall his features—Tall. Blond hair pulled back into a guido-looking ponytail. Heavy set with a big nose—was all she could remember. Footsteps sounded right next to where she was hiding and her eyes sprang open. Reyn stared at the shoe on the floor and wanted to scream, to cry, but if she did that, she knew she’d be dead, so instead, she simply breathed in and out. Not too heavy, not too shallow, but just the right amount of air. In and out. The overhead light suddenly popped on. Heart drumming in her chest, she squeezed her eyes shut, and prayed, Please, don’t see the shoe.