Wyoming Cowboy Ranger

by Nicole Helm

  “I’ll stop him,” Ty said, a swear, a promise.

  “And me.” Zach rolled his shoulders. “The knots aren’t great and he didn’t tie my legs. I can get out of it. I just...” Zach swore, twisting his body one way and then the other. Ty might have been impressed if steel claws weren’t digging into his foot. “I can get out of it,” Zach said more firmly this time. He maneuvered his body this way and that, grimacing and wincing, but never losing consciousness again.

  “How long had I been out?” he asked, then hissed in pain.

  “Too damn long.”

  “I don’t remember how it happened.”

  Ty recognized the disgust of failure and guilt in Zach’s tone and knew it wouldn’t serve them any. “Well, since I currently have my foot caught in what appears to be a bear trap, I can’t cast stones. He’s gone after Jen. We’ve got to—”

  Zach stood, the ropes falling to the ground.

  “How the hell’d you do that, Houdini?”

  “I told you the knots sucked. Now let’s see what we’ve got here.” He crouched in front of Ty’s leg, squeezed his eyes shut for a second and swore a few more times. “Little bastard gave me a concussion.”

  “Let’s give him a lot worse. Get me out of this thing.”

  It took too long, that much Ty knew. Like Ty, Zach used a variety of natural objects to try to pry the trap open.

  “You should go.”

  Zach raised an eyebrow at Ty. “You want me to leave you here stuck in a nineteenth-century bear trap?”

  “I’ve gotta believe Jen can ward off this guy, but I also believe two is better than one. Go. Help her and—”

  Something clicked and the bear trap opened. It was almost as painful as the going in had been. His vision dimmed, but he focused on the hard ground beneath him and Zach’s hand on his shoulder.

  “Found the release mechanism. Can you walk?”

  “Hell if I know. Let’s find out.” He took Zach’s outstretched hand and got to his feet, putting pressure only on the good one. He had to have broken bones on top of the puncture wounds that were currently oozing blood.

  “I could carry you.”

  Ty snorted. “You and what army? You’ve got a concussion and I’m not exactly a lightweight. Just give me an arm.”

  Zach did so, winding his arm around Ty, and Ty did the same. He took a tentative step with it, not putting full weight on. His good leg nearly buckled, but Zach kept him upright.

  It would have to do. They moved slowly, and Ty swore, repeatedly, with every step of his injured foot, but kept stepping forward with Zach’s help. “Toward the cabin,” he said with gritted teeth.

  “You aren’t going to be much help.”

  Ty pointed to the gun that had fallen when the trap had gotten him. “The hell I’m not.”

  Zach bent to pick it up as Ty balanced on one foot. Ty took it from him and shoved it in its holster. “You got your phone on you?”

  “No. He’s got it. You?”

  Ty paused. Much as it galled him to waste time, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit Laurel’s number. He motioned Zach for them to keep walking as he used his free hand to hold the phone to his ear.

  “T—”

  He didn’t even let her get his name out. “Get as many deputies up here as you can. Plus Grady and Noah.” Cursing his bad luck, he added, “And Dylan and Cam. Everybody. Anybody.”

  “They’re already on their way. We got an email from Jen. I tried to call but her phone goes straight to voice mail and the cabin phone line is dead. We’ve got some car trouble, but we’re working on it. Someone should be there in ten minutes. You don’t sound so good.”

  “Minor injuries. Have an ambulance ready, but don’t send it up here yet.”

  “Is Jen okay?” Laurel demanded. Since Ty didn’t know how to answer that, he didn’t. “Gotta focus.” He hit End and shoved his phone in his pocket. “Cavalry’s coming,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Good. I’ve got a bad feeling we’re going to need it. We’ve still got a ways to go.”

  Too much of a ways. “Go ahead.”

  “How are you going to—”

  He leaned against a tree and handed the gun to Zach. “You run hard as you can. I’ll be behind you. Just make sure she’s safe. Help her if she’s not. We don’t have the time for me.”

  Zach nodded once. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then he was off.

  It about killed Ty to watch Zach run off, knowing Jen’s fate was in his hands. No. Her own hands and Zach’s hands and all the help they had coming.

  He didn’t even consider waiting. He braced himself, then took off after Zach in the fastest limping job he could manage. Maybe he wouldn’t save the day, but he wasn’t going to take the chance that he wouldn’t need to.

  He’d do whatever he could, fight through any pain, suffer any consequences to be sure Jen was safe.

  * * *

  IT WAS FREEZING in the cabin, even with the fire crackling in the hearth. The windows were open since he had to air out all that carbon monoxide he’d poured inside. He’d gotten a bit of a headache himself when he put the straitjacket on Jen.

  And everyone said his odd collection of things would be a waste.

  He laughed, pleased all over again at the genius. He wished he’d thought of the carbon dioxide sooner. It would have saved him some trouble.

  But he’d been able to use his bear trap. Ty’s blood was on it now. Worth it. Everything was worth blood.

  Jen moaned, moving weakly against the straitjacket that tied her arms behind her and her body to the couch. He watched her slowly drift to consciousness from his position by the window, breathing in fresh air.

  He wanted to watch the fear creep into her. Wanted to see the panic on her face when she realized where she was. When she realized he’d immobilized her completely. When she realized no one could or would help her now because he was the only one here.

  He laughed again, and her eyes flew open. Pretty eyes. Such a shame to squeeze until they popped right out.

  Would that be bloody? Hmm.

  He thought for a second about focus, about goals, about what Dr. Michaels had always told him.

  But she’d been wrong. Leaning into the black was so much better. Hadn’t everything gotten better since he’d stabbed the good doctor? Once he was done with Ty, he’d go back and finish the job.

  Revenge. It wasn’t just for Oscar anymore, and though a part of him felt guilty, a part of him was too excited about what was to come.

  Blood. Blood. Blood. Ty’s suffering would be for Oscar. Jen’s blood would be for him.

  Her eyes darted around the room as she swallowed and moved, trying to escape the straitjacket. She wouldn’t be able to, but it’d be fun to watch her try. Fun to watch her scream and beg.

  He’d watch for as long as that thrilled him, then he’d kill her. Just like Dr. Michaels, but he’d finish the job. Leave her ripped apart and bloody for Ty to find.

  He frowned a little. It would be possible someone else would find her first, and that wouldn’t do. No, Ty had to be the one who stepped into all the glorious blood he’d soon shed.

  He still had some work to do to perfect his plan.

  He watched her struggle against the bonds he’d put on her, and smiled. He’d have the perfect view to do just that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jen pretended to slip back into unconsciousness so she could think. She tried to remember what had happened or how she’d ended up immobile on the couch.

  Her arms were wrapped uncomfortably around her body, but she couldn’t move out of the position. It was like she was tied together, fastened to the couch.

  Panic came, though she tried to fight it. She wanted to pretend like she was still unconscious but she just...she couldn’t. She writhed and tried to free her h
ands, move her arms only a little, but she couldn’t.

  She sobbed out a breath, was afraid she wouldn’t be able to suck in another. She opened her eyes as she desperately tried to move her limbs. What had he done to her? Why couldn’t she move even her arms?

  She blinked once, then twice, thought maybe she was hallucinating before she came to the conclusion that her eyes were not deceiving her.

  He’d put her in an honest-to-goodness straitjacket.

  “Worked out that it fit almost perfectly.”

  She jerked at his voice, even though she knew he’d been there. It wasn’t that he spoke that gave her a start, it was how...conversational he sounded.

  “One of my foster mothers used to put me in it. I kept it. A token of the time.”

  “That’s horrible,” Jen replied. Talking helped ease some of her panic. If she could focus on Braxton, on talking, she could take her mind off the fact that she couldn’t move.

  “It was horrible. And now it’s horrible for you.”

  “Th-that doesn’t seem very f-fair,” Jen managed. She tried to ignore the fact she couldn’t move. Because she had to be able to get out of this, or at least stall...whatever he was going to do to her. The longer she could keep him from hurting her, the better shot she had of someone coming to save her. Them.

  God. Ty. Zach. They were all tied up in some fashion or another now. She didn’t understand how one lone, crazy man had been able to best all three of them.

  Except no. He hadn’t bested them yet. She had to believe there was a way out of this. As long as she believed, there was a chance.

  “Fair?” He laughed, and there was no edge or bitterness to the sound. He seemed genuinely amused. “You don’t actually think life is fair, do you?”

  She wouldn’t answer that—not with the awful joyful gleam in his ice-blue eyes. “I-it’s Braxton, right? You’re Braxton.”

  He tilted his head and studied her. “Are we going to be friends now, Jen? You were nice enough to give me a candy bar, right? You’re going to be nice enough to talk to me. Soften me up and maybe I’ll let you go.”

  She closed her eyes and breathed. She thought about Ty. If he were in her place, he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t cry. Sure, he had military training she didn’t, but she could be as tough as him when push came to shove. When she had to be.

  “I know you’re going to hurt me because you think it’ll hurt Ty, but—”

  He laughed again, louder, but it had an edge to it now that had her swallowing at the lump in her throat.

  “Now you’re going to lie to me?” he demanded, still standing over by the window. “You’re going to lie there, in a straitjacket, and tell me Ty doesn’t care about you. Oh, Jen, you’re stupider than I gave you credit for. You think I don’t know you let him touch you? You think I don’t know everything that went on in that room last night?”

  Horror waved through her, a crawling sensation of disgust crept along her skin as he pointed to the bedroom she’d shared with Ty.

  “You...”

  “Amazing what you can learn from watching people on video. Your third wheel friend knows that, doesn’t he? Don’t worry. It was dark. I couldn’t really see anything, but I know what you did. I know what you said. Love is such a powerful motivator, don’t you think? When you love someone, you want to hurt the people who hurt them.”

  “No. You want to heal the hurt in them, not punish the person who hurt them.”

  Braxton laughed bitterly. “Oh, aren’t you full of it.”

  “No, I’m not.” Was she really arguing with a homicidal maniac? It was probably pointless and stupid, but it kept her attention off the horrible sensation of forced immobility. “If someone hurt Ty, I would want to help Ty, not worry about stupid, selfish revenge.”

  “Stupid?” he repeated in a low, dangerous tone. “Selfish?”

  “Yes, stupid. And selfish on both parts. I would want him okay, not someone else hurt. And Ty would never want me to hurt people for him. If he had a problem, he’d deal with it himself. I know you’re trying to... You think this means you cared about your brother—”

  “Cared?” He almost screamed the word but then he seemed to shake himself. He turned away from her, muttering something she couldn’t hear. Then he repeated her words, till he was just muttering the word himself over and over again. As if he was working out a math problem, but every word he uttered was simply himself.

  “You’ve given me an idea, Jen.” He turned back to her, affable and pleasant again. “An interesting idea. Do you think Ty would sacrifice his own life for yours? Or would he hurt you to save his own skin? Which one’s love?”

  Without knowing what Braxton was planning, thinking, she didn’t want to give him any answer. So she simply swallowed.

  Braxton finally moved away from the window, but he moved toward her and that was when she realized he had a very large knife in his hand.

  “Do knives make you nervous, Jen?” he asked, sounding almost concerned, almost human. He twisted the knife one way and then another. When he knelt next to the couch, she whimpered no matter how she tried not to make a noise.

  Braxton smiled, brandishing the knife above her head. “You’re terrified. My, my. I quite like them. Anything sharp really. Blood is so...interesting. So soothing. Would Ty shed his own to save you yours?”

  A tear slipped over. She could feel it trail down her cheek. Braxton pointed the sharp tip of the knife at it. She squeezed her eyes shut as the tip of the knife touched the teardrop and pierced her skin. It hurt, but she couldn’t move. She was stuck, the tip of the blade cutting into her skin.

  “Blood and tears.” He made a considering noise, but the knife eased off her cheek. She felt something trickle down her chin—tears or blood or both—and tried to believe she would survive this.

  But she didn’t have any idea how.

  * * *

  THE CABIN CAME into view, and with it, Zach standing behind the stables. Ty’s body was becoming slowly numb. He welcomed it, as long as it didn’t interfere with his ability to move forward.

  “He’s got the windows open,” Zach said by way of greeting.

  Ty glared at Zach when he finally reached him. “Then get in there and—”

  “I scoped it out. We need to work this together. I go in guns blazing, not only do I end up dead, but she might, too. We’ll have to find a way to draw him out.”

  “The concussed and the mangled foot?”

  “If it’s all we got. I’d like to wait for the cops.”

  Fury, fear and sheer frustration welled up inside Ty like a tidal wave destroying all the numb. “Wait for... Are you—”

  “I said I’d like to, not that I would.” Zach scanned the trees, calm and sure. Ty might have been reassured if he wasn’t so scared. “What’s taking them so long?”

  Ty tried not to think about all the worst-case scenarios. The wind having knocked down trees to block the road, Braxton having men working for him, happily picking off cops as they came.

  He couldn’t think about it now. He had to get to Jen. “What’s the situation inside?”

  Zach eyed him and Ty knew in a moment it was terrible, but before he could start forward, Zach spoke in clear, concise military tones.

  “She’s tied up. I need you to be prepared for that. He’s got the door booby-trapped, but the windows are open. I don’t see any traps, but I’ve got to believe he’s got something going on there. He’s bested us once, so we can’t let him do it again. We have to be more careful than we were. Smarter.”

  “Tied up where? How?”

  Zach scrubbed a hand over his face, smearing some of the blood across his cheek accidentally. “On the couch. I can’t be sure, but I think he’s got her in a straitjacket.”

  Ty swore and moved forward, but Zach grabbed his arm again, this time giving it a good yank.

&
nbsp; “You’re not new to this,” he snapped, his voice firm. “You know dangerous situations, and people who would do anything to prove their point. You know the dangers and everything that could go wrong. You have to forget it’s Jen for right now.”

  “That’s bull. Why did I do all those things in the army? Because they were supposed to keep the people I loved here safe. Why’d you get kicked out of the FBI, Zach? Because you cared about your family more than you cared about procedure. So, don’t give me that crap right now.”

  “I’m not talking about arbitrary procedure. I’m talking about a plan that prioritizes getting Jen out of there without getting anyone hurt.”

  “I’ll get hurt. Ten times over.” He’d go to hell and back and enjoy the ride.

  “You think she’d want that?”

  “I think I don’t care.” But it poked at some of his certainty. She wouldn’t want that. It’d hurt her, and that was the last thing Ty wanted. She was already being hurt, far too much. His fault, and his guilt was talking. She wouldn’t want that either. “What kind of booby traps?”

  “The door’s got some kind of trip wire. My instinct is explosives. Potentially enough to blow this whole clearing to hell.”

  Ty fought the fatigue and pain going on inside his body to think. Think. Jen had tried to understand Braxton, tried to understand his emotions. She’d been right, and he needed to think like she had.

  “He incapacitated us, but didn’t kill us,” Ty said. “He could have. Easily.”

  “Yeah.”

  “He wants to torture Jen, but he wants me alive to see it. Whatever trap he’s got going on in there isn’t big scale because that’d ruin it. End it. He wants me to suffer—if we all die, I don’t suffer.”

  “Okay. Okay. I’ll give you that. But two things we have to keep in mind. First, I don’t think he cares if he gets hurt as long as he gets revenge, so that’s not a threat to him. Second, if you go in there, he hurts Jen. The closer you are to her with him the more likely he is to do something to her.”