by Barr, Sue
He’d name their first daughter after her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The first warning should have been the huge log across the road. I stopped the car and got out to assess how heavy it was and if I could move it by myself.
The second warning should have been the convenience of a truck approaching so soon after I’d stopped. But with my mind on the tree, Tank and everything else, it passed by without one little red flag popping up.
I couldn’t see the driver as he’d already jumped out of his truck, but he called over, “Hang on. I’ve got a rope.” Grateful for the unexpected help, I turned back to the tree and tried to figure out where the best place would be to winch it to the truck. That was when I noticed the base of the tree wasn’t broken, but neatly sawn in two.
Finally the two red flags got my attention, but it was too late. An arm clamped across my shoulders, pinning me against his chest and a foul smelling cloth was thrust in my face. I struggled and then nothing.
****
Tank finished packing and was headed for his motorcycle when his phone dinged indicating a text message. Anxious to get to the cabin he thought about ignoring the persistent dinging, but it was too ingrained in him to make sure it wasn’t something vital.
His stomach went into free fall when he read the message from Liz.
Regis has posted bail and had been released that morning. Surveillance showed he spent some time in a plumbing van, but after that the agent lost him. When they located the van they discovered recording devices and realized he had a bug in Shelby’s office.
His stomach cramped at the thought of Regis knowing Shelby would be at the cabin, alone. Tank dropped his duffel bag on the manicured lawn and raced for his motorcycle, praying he’d get to the cabin before Regis. No way would he lose her a second time to him.
He gunned the engine and gravel sprayed everywhere as he tore down the drive and sped off for the only road leading in to Walker Lake. As he came around a corner, a dirty white truck almost side swiped him before correcting its course and continuing on.
“Idiot,” Tank muttered. He leaned into the next corner, took the left fork and then the next right turn onto a slightly overgrown road leading to the cabin. He’d gone maybe two miles when the sight before him stopped his breath.
Aunt Tillie’s vintage car sat parked in front of a downed tree. There was no one sign of Shelby. He parked the bike and ran to the car. Shelby’s purse lay on the front seat, her keys in the ignition.
He touched the hood of the car. Still warm. He looked around. There was no indication she’d gone into the woods and it was eerily silent. It didn’t take long to see where the tree had been cut and in the sandy soil it was obvious some kind of struggle had occurred, as footprints were clearly visible.
The truck! The one he passed on the highway. It had to be Regis, headed back into town. Regis couldn’t go to his home, so where would he take Shelby? And was she still alive?
****
The thought of turning my head had bile flooding my mouth. I swallowed it back because some kind of tape covered my mouth and my hands were tied behind my back. I’d choke to death if I didn’t get a handle on the fear.
The memory of being attacked by the stranger near the cut tree and the foul smelling cloth rushed back. Carefully I assessed the situation. By the look of the room I was on a bed in a cheap motel room.
The guy hadn’t tied my legs. Which was good, but he’d removed my shoes and stripped off my pants. Relief flooded me. At least he hadn’t raped me. Yet. If I had to run, I didn’t care if I was only in my panties. My father had drummed into me that modesty had no place in my vocabulary when it came to survival.
Pushing through the nausea, I tried to sit. It was at that moment I heard the card lock on the door activating. Falling back on the bed, I pretended I was still out cold.
My attacker had his back to me and he dragged a suitcase in behind him. His build was familiar and I closed my eyes again when he started to turn, but I’d caught a glimpse and it was enough for me to know his identity.
Regis.
When did he get out of jail, and what was he planning? He moved around the room and I risked opening one eye just a sliver. He’d thrown the suitcase on a table and opening it, brought out duct tape and rope and laid them beside the suitcase. My heart rate tripled when he rummaged in a plastic grocery bag and brought out a tin of lighter fluid.
Now what? I could probably roll off the bed, but I had no way to open the door with my hands tied behind my back.
Without turning, Regis said, “You have awakened. Excellent.”
How’d he know? Like he could read my mind he said, “Your accelerated rate of breathing alerted me to your conscious state.”
He faced me and frowned. I shrank into the mattress when he approached the bed.
“No, no, no. That will not do. I need you to be like this.” He pulled me up by my armpits until I sat propped upright against the pillows. I tensed, ready to kick him the first chance I had.
He anticipated and said, “Do not do anything ill conceived, or I will be forced to confine you to the bed.”
If I was tied to the bed, I couldn’t run. I hated him and hated this situation, but for now, all I could do was glare while he fussed with my hair. Satisfied everything was placed how he wanted, he trailed one thin finger down my cheek and I flinched when he went so far as to caress the outside of my breast.
I twisted away at the touch. He hauled me back into a sitting position.
“Do not make me hurt you,” he admonished in his whiny, nasal voice. “I do not want to hurt you. I love you. All I have ever wanted was to touch you. You never let me touch you like you let him.”
And you never will, you sicko. I wished I could telepathically tell this pathetic piece of garbage how much I loathed him. The bed dipped when he sat beside me, his hip touching mine. He skimmed his hand across my belly, moving upward and I sucked air in through my nose when he cupped my breast through the tee shirt and bra.
“This will not do. I need to feel your skin.”
He slid off the bed, rummaged through his suitcase again and with a flourish, brought out a huge carving knife.
A sick smile twisted his face as he came back toward the bed. “This will do the job. Please do not move. I would not want to accidentally mar your beautiful skin while I remove your articles of clothing.”
I began to hyperventilate and couldn’t drag in enough air through my nostrils. My clothing had become the least of my worries. Why would he be carrying around such a huge knife? Regis approached the bed and craziness shone through his beady little eyes. Why hadn’t I told Tank I loved him? I didn’t want to die with that being my last thought.
****
As he tore up the highway in the same direction he’d seen the truck traveling, Tank looked down every side road and checked parking lots of diners, hotels, and motels. The longer it took to find them, the harder it would become. Sunset was only an hour off and then, in the dark, it’d be like finding a needle in the proverbial haystack.
He could put out an A.P.B., but he all he had was a vague description of an older model, white truck with one headlight missing. Screeching to a halt, he swerved around and sped into the parking lot of the Lazy Daze Motel.
The very last parking spot, beside a minivan, held a truck that looked a lot like the one he’d passed. Tank hid his bike behind the motel’s dumpster and approached the door directly opposite the parked vehicle. The lights were on in the room, but everything was silent, not even the background noise of a television filtered out. There was no way of knowing if Regis was in there with Shelby, although this was the most logical room for them to be. No one would see him drag a person in, as it was at the end of a very long row of rooms.
He stopped. A man’s voice could be heard talking in the room. Sounded like Regis. He hesitated until he heard a loud thump and the man screamed. “I said do not move! You did not have my permission to move!”
&n
bsp; Tank didn’t wait another second. With a well-placed kick, the door blew open and in one sweeping glance he saw Shelby rolling off the bed onto the floor, her mouth taped and hands tied behind her back. When Regis swiveled toward the door, Tank saw the carving knife in his hand.
Time slowed as Tank feinted left, then rolled right, reaching for the gun tucked in the back waistband of his jeans. As Regis moved to his right, falling for Tank’s fake out, Tank pulled out the gun and squeezed the trigger.
Regis halted and the knife clattered to the floor. His expression registered surprise as he looked down at his chest. At first there was nothing but a tiny hold, then a dark red stain spread across his sweater vest. It only took seconds, but he looked back at Tank, sank to his knees and crumpled to the ground.
Tank kept the gun trained on Regis while he kicked the knife away from the now lifeless hand. When he was sure Regis was dead, he rushed to Shelby who was still trying to kick away from Regis. Her tee shirt was cut down the middle and one bra strap had been sliced through.
Tank picked her up, sat on the bed with her in his lap and cradled her.
“I couldn’t lose you again.” He said, rocking them both. He wouldn’t let go, ever. If he had his way, she’d never be out of his sight again.
Shelby wiggled until he looked down at her. Big blue eyes stared up at him, over the industrial green tape covering her mouth.
“I forgot about the duct tape. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He peeled back the tape, wincing with her as bits of skin came off with it. “Oh baby. I’m so sorry.”
“My hands,” Shelby croaked.
****
Hours later, after police and E.M.S. had cleared us, Tank and I watched the ambulance drive away with the body of Regis. Even with a warm woolen blanket covering me, I couldn’t stop the shivers rippling through my body. That would have been me if Tank hadn’t arrived when he did. Tank must have seen me shaking, because he drew me against his chest and rubbed my back with long, soothing strokes until the shivers abated.
I turned into his shoulder and tears pricked the back of my eyes. Too much had happened. My coping mechanism was shutting down. How many shocks can a body take anyway? I’d almost been kidnapped by Big Boss. Regis tried to blow my head off and then the sick pervert chloroformed me and who knew what he’d have done if Tank had been even one minute later. Visions of the lighter fluid had my imagination racing.
“Take me home.” I mumbled into his chest.
“Polly’s offered to drive you back to her place.”
Polly had arrived shortly after the police. We all agreed I shouldn’t be alone tonight, as I couldn’t stop shaking and was continually on the verge of tears. But, when I realized I could have died and hadn’t told Tank I loved him, I needed to be with only him.
“No. Just you and me.”
Tank pulled me in tighter. “Back to our place?”
I nodded my head, burrowing deeper into his chest. If I could crawl inside his skin, I would. I needed to be close to him.
“Anything you want darlin’, I’d give you the moon if you asked.”
If I squeezed any harder, I’d crack his ribs.
*****
The grandfather clock in the hall chimed midnight when we finally stepped through the front door of our house. Polly insisted Tank use her car and fluttered big green eyes at a cute young trooper who jumped at the chance to drive her home.
It was surreal. My purse, keys, and car were back on the road to the lake and Tank’s bike was at the motel. But all that didn’t matter. We were alive and at our bedroom door. Now would be a good time to tell Tank I loved him.
Resolved to speak the words no matter what, I turned and froze. His face grim, he stalked toward me. Recognizing that dangerous glint in his eyes, I backed into the bedroom.
“Do you—?” I gulped, “Do you think this is a good idea?”
“This is the best idea I’ve had in months.”
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, noting that I sounded excited and breathy. No small wonder. If he didn’t tear my borrowed clothes off, I’d to do it for him.
“I almost lost you.”
“But, you didn’t. I’m here, and I’m safe.”
“Shelby, if I don’t make love to you, right here, right now, I’ll go out of my mind.” He stopped inches from me. “I can’t be gentle. I need you too bad to be nice.”
I needed him as much as he needed me, if not more, so I reached up and pulled him down to kiss me.
*****
After what seemed like hours we cuddled beneath the duvet.
“Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse in my ear.
“Yes, but I don’t think I could handle that again.”
He chuckled and pinned me against his chest when I would have rolled away.
“You know I never would have left if I didn’t think it was the right thing to do?”
A small part of me knew what he said was true, but I couldn’t let go of the fact he hadn’t trusted me with his secret. Down the road, if something else with his job threatened us, would he leave again? How could I know that he was in this marriage all the way?
“Tank, what if—”
He placed his index finger across my lips.
“No what ifs. You never have to worry ever again. Nothing and nobody will take me away from you. Ever.”
He propped up on his elbow and gazed down at me. With tender fingers he brushed the hair off my forehead and kissed the scar above my eyebrow. Firm lips moved down the side of my face and paused near the pulse beating at the base of my neck.
“We’ve done hard and fast. How about soft and slow?” Desire thickened his voice.
My heart swelled with love at the memory of that disastrous game of pool.
“I love you, Tank”
He deepened the kiss and when he pulled away to explore other areas in need of his attention, I heard him whisper, “Love you too. Always have.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I stared at the slim white wand in my hand.
Blue. All of them were blue. I looked around at the carnage of open boxes on the floor of my bathroom. Every little stick had shown the tiny blue stripe. It was supposed to be pink or red—any color but blue!
Maybe they were defective and I should go across town, go out of state and buy another one to make sure. Tears welled in my eyes. Who was I kidding? They’d all be blue.
I was pregnant.
This was not supposed to happen. At least not right now. We were supposed to enjoy wedded bliss for at least two point five years before having a baby. This had been meticulously planned by me since I was eight years old.
I kept my scheduled appointment with Doctor Kaufmann and he confirmed my suspicions. I was about four months along. Here I thought it was Mrs. Cribbs cooking that had me gaining weight. All that time I was pregnant and hadn’t known it.
I heard keys hitting the hall table and flew down the hallway, launched myself into Tank’s arms and rained kisses all over his gorgeous face.
“I’m so glad you’re home.” I grabbed his hand and tugged him down to the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Dinner’s almost ready.” I babbled because I was nervous and didn’t know how to tell him about the baby. Tank allowed himself to be dragged along, stopping just inside the kitchen door.
“I think I’d like some dessert now.” He tugged me back into his arms and slanting his lips over mine, kissed me hungrily.
He walked us up against the wall and palm to palm our hands mated. With a sweet slowness he stretched our hands above my head. His whole body pressed against mine and I rubbed along the length of him, like a cat. Unhurried, he blazed a trail down the outside of my arm with his hand, then snaked his arm around my waist. His other hand brushed the top of my shirt. With deceptive languor, he popped open the first button to my blouse. He’d deepened the kiss and had moved on to the second button when the doorbell chimed.
“I’ll tell ‘em to get lost.” Tank lowered
his forehead onto mine and with a hard kiss, released me. He raked a hand through his hair and adjusted his jeans before stalking down the hall to the front door. I pressed my hands against my flushed cheeks and took the opportunity to straighten my clothes.
Poor Tank, it was little girls, selling cookies. Girlish giggles followed by his deep voice echoed down the hall. He was toast. He couldn’t say no to sweet smiles and childish enthusiasm. And I’m sure the mother’s escorting them enjoyed the eye candy at the door. I knew I would.
When he came returned to the kitchen with four boxes, I arched an eyebrow. “Four?”
He shrugged and stuffed them into the pantry, then turned and prowled toward me. I recognized the glint in his eye and felt a delicious shudder go through me. Tank scooped me into his arms and holding me close to his chest, bounded up the stairs two at a time.
“Dinner can wait.” He growled as he shouldered open the door to our bedroom and practically threw me onto the bed. He kept his eyes trained on me while he tore his shirt over his head, kicked off his boots and shrugged out of his jeans.
My mouth went dry and I couldn’t have said word, even if I wanted. Baby news would have to wait.
****
The next morning I watched Tank eating his breakfast. It was now or never. I had to tell him before my ever expanding belly gave it away.
“Tank, would you come with me to get some things for the house?” I bit into dry toast.
“Sure, what kind of things?’ He poured ketchup on his semi-hard eggs. My stomach rolled. At this rate even the toast wouldn’t stay down. I sipped my tepid tea.
“Just a few things for the spare room, nothing much.” Maybe if I didn’t watch him dip his toast into the slimy yolk which had mixed with the thick ketchup… Excusing myself I ran for the bathroom upstairs. A few minutes later I brushed my teeth and went back down to resume eating the dry, cold toast.
After breakfast we went to a large furniture store, although I thought we’d never leave the house. Tank disappeared into our bedroom, only re-appearing when I threatened to come upstairs and drag him down.