Dying for Love

by Angel Nicholas

  “Cher? What—”

  Flesh smacked into flesh, followed by a thud. Vomit climbed up Grace’s throat. She blinked hard, trying to clear her vision, and struggled against his hold. Through a haze, she saw Lisie sprawled across the hallway. She wasn’t moving. Grace struggled harder and tried to scream. She managed a squeak. Her throat was on fire.

  Lisie disappeared from view as he quickly jogged down the stairs and onto the Greenbelt. Tears clogged her vision. The wail of sirens joined the ringing in her ears. At least Lisie would get help.

  Grace whimpered, tried to swallow and threw up.

  The monster ran faster, bouncing her on his hard shoulder. Pain spread. Her fingers and toes tingled.

  Finally, mercifully, he came to a stop. He flipped her up and tossed her onto a bench seat. She twisted and recognized the old pickup.

  “No!” She lurched forward.

  He backhanded her. Her eye popped and pain exploded across her face. “You need to learn obedience, angel. We’ll have plenty of time to renew old lessons, but for the time being…”

  Struggling to get upright again, she glimpsed his fist flying toward her. Night descended abruptly.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Matt paced the hotel lobby. People gave him a wide berth and the desk clerk watched him warily, one hand on the telephone. He didn’t care.

  Where the hell was Grace?

  He glanced at his watch and fought the desire to slam his fist into something. Anything. His gut clenched. Nancy said Grace had bolted out of the building at 4:20. Almost two hours ago.

  The lobby doors whooshed open and Luke strolled in, hands in the pockets of his tan slacks. Matt narrowed his eyes and prowled forward.

  Luke stumbled to a stop. “Mr. Duncan.”

  Matt didn’t stop until he was close enough to watch Luke’s pupils expand.

  Luke licked his lips. “Uh, I’m here to pick up Grace for the concert. I imagine she told you?”

  “Grace isn’t here,” he growled. “I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

  “Wh-what do you mean?” He shifted to the side.

  Matt followed. Luke glanced around the lobby. He didn’t know if he was looking for help or checking to see if he was joking and Grace was really behind him. He wished.

  “Why would I know where she is? She’s supposed to be here.” Luke frowned and met his eyes.

  Maybe he really didn’t know. Damn. Matt shoved a hand through his hair.“Grace left the office a couple of hours ago. Nancy said she seemed to be in a hurry, but no one knows where she went.”

  “Huh.” Luke smoothed his hair, visibly relaxing. “Not like her to miss an appointment, dude. We’ve had these plans for a while.”

  “Yes, I know.” Dude? Matt clenched his jaw.

  “You don’t suppose …” He paused. “It sounds kinda stupid considering everything that’s gone down, but you don’t suppose she went to her condo?”

  Matt’s gut clenched. His cell rang and he snatched it out of his pocket. Not Grace. “Duncan.”

  “This is Detective Harrison. There was an explosion at Miss Debry’s condo.”

  Sweat broke out on his forehead. Spinning away from Luke, he braced his fist against a pillar. “When? Is she hurt?”

  “I was hoping she was with you. When did you last see her?”

  “Two hours ago.” Matt fisted his free hand, hating the frustration. The helplessness. “You’re sure she’s not there?”

  “We’ve searched the condo. There’s no sign of her.”

  “I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

  He ended the call and stuffed the phone in his pocket with hands that shook.

  “What’s up, dude?”

  Matt glared at Luke. One more “dude”, and he’d plant a fist in his face. To hell with the consequences.

  “Nothing. Is. Up.” He shoved past him. If he drove ninety and broke every traffic law in the book, he could be there in sixty seconds.

  “Come on, man!” Luke called after him. “Don’t hold out on me. She’s my friend too.”

  Flattening Luke would take valuable time he couldn’t spare. The diesel engine of his truck rumbled to life. He roared out of the parking garage, taking out the wooden arm at the toll booth. The guy jumped out of his box, screaming and shaking his fist.

  Too damn bad, buddy.

  A minute and a half later, he jumped down from the truck and shoved through the crowd outside the condos. Two cop cars screamed into the parking lot. He took the stairs two at a time. Firemen, paramedics and police jostled for position in the hallway. Matt blew by them all, ignoring their shouts and grabbing hands.

  He kept picturing Grace. Laughing in the park, moaning on his Harley, sharing a bite of her food, writhing beneath him as an orgasm swept her away, confessing her love. His heart clutched and he hit the third floor at breakneck speed, almost mowing over Detective Harrison.

  “Whoa, man.” Harrison grabbed his arms. “Calm down. I told you, she’s not in there.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. We swept the whole condo. Although…” Matt followed the direction of Harrison’s hand gesture. “That’s her purse. She was here.”

  Wispy tendrils of smoke drifted out of Grace’s door. “What the hell happened?”

  Harrison’s expression tightened Matt’s gut further. “There was a kitchen knife lying in the middle of the living room. The handle wasn’t blackened from the blast, so my guess is Grace tried to use it for self-defense.”

  Matt shook his head. No way the psychotic asshole had her. No. He stared at her purse, smudges of smoke marring the smooth ivory leather. Clenching his hands into fists, he faced Harrison.

  “Those men you know, the ones you said were watching out for her. Where are they?”

  Harrison looked beyond him and Matt turned. The big one was stoic as ever, but the other guy was pale, sweaty and green around the gills.

  Matt stalked toward them. “Why didn’t you stop him? What the hell happened?”

  “I’m sorry.” The WWF guy’s gravelly voice was oddly humble. Blood trailed down the side of his face. “He snuck up on me and whacked me over the head.”

  “Fuck.” Matt wanted to punch something. “Any idea where he took her?”

  The two men exchanged a look. The green color on the one guy dialed up a few notches. “I haven’t a clue.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “God have mercy. I should have taken care of him years ago.”

  Matt stepped forward, vision hazing red. The big guy blocked him. Harrison put his hand on his shoulder. The other guy just stood there, defeat oozing from him.

  “I think it’s time we made introductions.” Harrison gestured between them. “Matt Duncan, meet Sheriff John Sanford of Sebree, Kentucky. And this is Gunner. He’s a local private investigator. Gentlemen, Matt Duncan.”

  Matt stared at the green-tinged sheriff. “What’s a sheriff from Kentucky doing in Idaho? I find the coincidence fascinating, since Grace and I recently traced her foster-care route to a town in Kentucky.”

  Sanford sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Henderson, Kentucky.”

  His focus sharpened. Sanford knew a lot more than any of them combined. “What the hell is going on?”

  Harrison stepped between them. “Why don’t we head down to the station. See if we can come up with a plan for locating Grace.”

  Grace licked her lips and pried her eyelids open to…nothing. Solid black met her gaze. She clenched her hands, took a breath and blinked the haze away. Little details emerged. The interior of the pickup, the faint outline of trees, something high and wide—a big, solid fence.

  “Good of you to join me, angel.”

  She gingerly rolled her head to the side. A large male shape slouched behind the steering wheel, his square jaw outlined against the window. Nausea rolled through her.

  “Who are you?”

  He shook his head. “You know damn well who I am.”

  Uh, no. “Let’s pretend
I don’t.”

  “Fine, I’ll play your little game. Name’s Deke Sathers. Pleased to meet you.” His eyes gleamed in the darkness. She shivered. “And you are the conniving snake bitch I married thirty-three years ago.”

  Grace blinked, her sluggish brain a little slow on the uptake. “What? I’m only twenty-seven. That’s not possible.”

  “In your dreams, angel. Tell me.” He leaned close.

  She leaned back.

  “How many rich old farts did you have to fuck to get all that plastic surgery?”

  She gasped. He laughed.

  “Course, I’m not complaining. You look damn good. Good enough for me to overlook how many men you’ve screwed.”

  He grabbed her hair quick as a striking snake and pulled her close enough to heat her skin with his breath. “Especially if you can still give me babies. You owe me.”

  Her jaw dropped. “What?”

  Fist buried in her hair, he hauled her across the seat and out of the truck. Her bare feet hit hard dirt—where were her shoes? He dragged her along behind him. The guy was certifiable. Never in a million years would she marry a raving lunatic.

  Just her luck, some escaped psycho patient decided she was his missing wife. Awesome. He’d probably killed his real wife.

  Her knees went weak and she stumbled. Not a good train of thought.

  A cold breeze ruffled her hair and blew the clouds away from the moon. Grace looked up. Then up some more. They stood in front of a huge stone wall.

  “Uh…”

  Deke yanked her against him. For an old guy, he wasn’t real soft. “You and I are gonna make us some pretty little baby girls to replace the ones you stole from me, bitch.”

  Bile rose. His mouth pressed down on hers, grinding her lips against her teeth. His fingers dug into the side of her jaw and forced her mouth open. His tongue darted in. Grace wrenched back, but he held her too tight to escape. She whimpered, gagged, and stomped on his foot.

  He pushed her away, to her undying relief.

  “With all the fucking, you’d think you’d have learned how to kiss by now.” He turned and fumbled in the shadows beneath the wall.

  Nobody could accuse her of being a fool. She ran. Small rocks dug into the tender soles of her feet. She could barely make out the outline of the foothills and large outbuildings. Deke cursed, his feet thudding heavily against the ground in pursuit.

  Come on. Faster. You jog all the time. Dig!

  A rock sliced into her foot. Grace cried out. Stumbled. Caught her balance and ran harder. Instinct told her she’d lost valuable distance.

  Doesn’t matter. I’m younger, I’m in great shape….

  His heavy weight slammed into her. They went down, hard-packed dirt tearing across her knees and palms. Pain shot up her arm.

  “Stupid bitch,” he growled, panting in her ear. He ground his hips against her bottom. His erection poked her and her muscles seized. She tasted dirt and copper.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Please. Don’t.”

  Above her, he stilled. His hold on her hair didn’t relax, but his hips stopped thrusting. “Now that’s real nice. I knew you’d remember all those lessons.”

  Oh, God. Please. Somebody help me.

  Grace’s belly quivered. How had someone this sick and twisted been allowed to roam free for so long? Something was seriously wrong with society.

  He rolled off and dragged her to her feet by her hair. She cried out in pain.

  “Don’t worry, angel. We’ll have our fun. I’m getting old though. I’d rather have a bed to use while I fill your belly with my seed.”

  Acid climbed up her throat. She began to shake. They were isolated. No lights shone nearby. No chance of rescue.

  His grip on her hair tightened and he headed back the way they’d come. Her whole body hurt. She stumbled behind him, straining to distinguish the shadows. A shovel would be a real blessing about now. One solid whack should be enough. If not, she’d be happy to repeat the gesture as many times as necessary.

  “Up.” He shoved her into a ladder. “Nothing funny either.”

  “I’m not in much of a joking mood.”

  Smack.

  Her lips stung, her ears rang and her vision swam.

  “Your smart mouth can be put to better use, angel.”

  His hot breath feathered across her ear. She shuddered. Up the ladder she went, with him right behind her. On top of her. Instead of dropping down below her, where she could have—and would have—kicked him in the face, he stayed a few rungs down with his arms around her.

  At the top, she climbed onto some sort of floating wood walkway. The boards sagged with each step. The whole city spread out below. She looked down and her stomach dropped.

  They were inside an old prison, various sizes of buildings dotting the interior. The Old Idaho Penitentiary. Her mouth went dry.

  “Come on.”

  Deke straddled the wall, one hand on the stones and the other still firmly entwined in her hair. She could shove him, but no doubt he’d take her along for the ride. And she really didn’t want to die. Matt’s face swam across her mind.

  “I said, come on.” Deke yanked her off her feet and halfway over the wall. She scrambled for purchase. Her foot touched a ladder rung. She hugged the ladder on the other side of the wall and her stomach landed back in her belly.

  “It won’t accomplish a whole lot if we both go splat on the ground,” she mumbled.

  “What’d you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Smug bas…Grace bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Laura deserved better than to have her memory soured because of the psycho freak behind her. She thought of Laura’s husband. “Why did you kill Darrell Wells?”

  She felt more than saw his shrug. “I knew he’d fucked you. Any man who screws my wife deserves to die, far as I’m concerned.”

  Her fingers tightened on the ladder. Matt. He was going to go after Matt.

  “Move.”

  She moved. Down the ladder, fast as she could with him on top of her. She needed a plan. Now more than ever. Eyes peeled to spot even the smallest opening, the smallest weapon, she bit into her lower lip.

  At the bottom, he headed toward a squat building sitting in shadow like a monster crouched low in the dirt, waiting to devour her whole. She stumbled. Deke jerked her against him.

  “I have a special room all picked out for you.”

  His grin gleamed in the moonlight. Deke stepped inside. She tripped on the high threshold and he dragged her in, scrapping skin off her leg.

  She gasped.

  “Shut up.”

  Too many emotions collided and rational thought fled. “You could have warned me to step up. But no, you decided I don’t need any skin on my legs and let me trip so you could drag me across raw metal instead.”

  SLAP

  Blessed numbness blocked the pain for one…two…three … Agony shot from her cheek to the back of her head and radiated down her spine. She fisted her hands and held her breath against a cry of pain.

  Deke shoved her through a narrow doorway. She landed on cold concrete and instinctively curled into a ball. The slam of the door echoed eerily. A metallic click followed.

  He was locking her in this shivering hellhole.

  “Now, angel.” His velvety voice came through the blackest black she’d ever experienced.

  Shaking with more than cold, she edged into a corner. Warm blood oozed down her shin-bone.

  “I’m leaving you here for the night, safe and sound. I have a few…chores to take care of. I didn’t expect to catch you today. No worries, though. I’ll be back bright and early to spring you before the groundskeepers arrive.”

  Matt. She lunged forward, scrabbling against the unforgiving door, screaming. “No!”

  Laughter floated back and mixed sickly with her scream. She sank to the floor, sobbing. All her life, in the deepest corner of her heart, she’d just wanted to belong to so
mebody. Now that an incredible man loved her, some lunatic was going to take it away. If only she’d shoved him off the ladder when she’d had the chance. She would have died along with him, but what did that matter?

  A hard shiver woke Grace. The tiny room had lightened enough to reveal scribbling on the walls. Goosebumps marched across her skin. Never had she been so cold. Curled into a ball, the chill seeped through the floor and into her bones.

  Something scraped. Her head shot up. A pant leg faintly showed through the bar-covered opening at the base of the door. Was he worse than the cold? Difficult decision, that. Her jaw ached from clenching to prevent her teeth from chattering.

  “Mornin’, angel. Up and at ’em.”

  His silky voice shriveled her insides. She buried her face against her knees. Maybe he’d think she was dead and go away.

  “Come on now. No dawdling. Things to do, places to go.” He’d walked into her cell. “A bit chilly this morning.”

  He grabbed her hair and yanked her head up.

  So cold. Her head should have snapped off in his hand. So cold her emotions were frozen.

  “I’m not in the best of moods, this morning, angel. I suggest you get your ass in gear.”

  Unable to summon interest, she noted new bags beneath his blue eyes. “Bad night?”

  Using her hair as leverage, he pulled her to her feet. She swayed, locked muscles unable to support her weight, and stared at the monster hidden behind the aging movie-star façade.

  “Yes,” he hissed. “I couldn’t track down your lily-livered boyfriend.”

  Joy leapt. He jerked her across the small room, snapping hair free of her scalp.

  “Hello, Deke.”

  The new voice came from outside the room. Deke released her and she collapsed.

  “John.” He braced a shoulder in the doorway. “I remember when you called me Hoss, like everyone else. But I guess you always were too clever for your own good.”

  “Hoss was the town hero. Heroes don’t beat their wives and children. I’m just sorry I didn’t figure out what was going on till too late. Sandra deserved better.”

  “Don’t talk about my wife,” Deke growled. “You don’t have the right.” He glanced down at her. “Don’t you worry, angel. I won’t let him touch you.”