Plowed

by Kristen Luciani

  Cooper slinked toward the table, grumbling with each step. Sara expelled a long, unsteady breath. At least he wouldn’t be off banging cocktail waitresses or bridesmaids. Not that he hadn’t tried.

  She twisted toward the bar, a loud gasp escaping her lips. “Merrick! I didn’t see you standing there. Why didn’t you go with the others? I can handle this.”

  His eyes darkened for a split second, so fast, it was almost as if she’d imagined it. “I figured you could use a hand. Come on, there’s another bar in the guesthouse. It’ll be faster than waiting for one of the waitresses.”

  “Good idea.” She linked her arm with his, feeling his body tense against her. The guy was moody as hell, even more so over the past couple of months, but she’d chalked it up to the stalker still being on the loose. Everyone was on edge, including her, since there were absolutely no leads. It didn’t seem possible, but the attacker had escaped without a trace. She darted her eyes around the expansive grounds. Tyler spared no expense for security. Nobody was getting beyond that armed beefcake barrier.

  A canopy of white fabric blanketed the outdoor bar, tulle wrapped in soft white lights winding down the spindles. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she scurried toward an empty space in the corner. Perfect. She could slip right in and snag the attention of the bartender-slash-model checking himself out in the cocktail shaker.

  A strong hand gripped her shoulder. “Inside,” Merrick mumbled. “It’ll take forever out here.”

  “But there’s a spot right over—”

  “Trust me, it’s better if we go inside. They keep the better stuff out of the heat.”

  For such a long time, she’d turned herself inside out to get on Merrick’s good side. Sometimes, it just wasn’t worth it to argue. Air-conditioned booze? Lead the way.

  After a short walk behind the gardens, she grasped the brass handle and pushed open a large, white door leading into the guesthouse, squinting so her eyes would adjust to the darkness. “Merrick, are you sure this is the indoor bar? I don’t think there’s anyone in he—”

  A large hand clapped over her mouth, Merrick’s large silver ring clanging against her tooth. Her pulse throbbed in her throat. Oh God, what was happening?

  He shoved her against a wall with his hulking body, one hand still pressed to her lips, one hand slowly closing around her throat. The sound of shattering glass around her sent chills zipping down her spine. Her eyes struggled to adjust, but there was not even a single sliver of light in the room. No refuge from the ominous darkness that consumed her and swallowed her whole. Breaths became shallow as her airway tightened in his vise-like grip. No oxygen… can’t breathe… Her limbs morphed into wet noodles, a clanging noise reverberating between her ears. Nobody would find her in time, even if she could manage to squeak out a single syllable. An icy sensation assaulted her fingertips, shooting up her arms and down her legs. Each passing second guided her closer to her last.

  “Those other whores were so easy to handle, but you?” His grip around her neck loosened. “You kept slipping through my fingers. Not anymore. No, I finally have you right where I want you.” He let go of her throat and reached into his pocket.

  Tears blurred her vision. It had been Merrick? But why? Her body quaked with silent sobs, mind foggy with confusion.

  “He was never yours, Sara. He was always mine.” The stale stench of scotch made her stomach roll. He bit off a piece of gray duct tape and slapped it over her mouth.

  Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. This can’t be happening.

  Merrick leaned closer, his bright blue eyes darkening, filled with malice, his voice dripping with disdain. “Yeah, you’re finally getting it, aren’t you? I know you’re from Podunk, Middle America, but you’re no moron. Your dipshit boyfriend Eli told me just enough about your past. All I needed to do was fill in the blanks. Thanks to Google, that wasn’t too hard. And guess what else? I’m not willing to share. You’ve already taken too much.” He held up a syringe and flicked the needle with his finger. “So I need to get rid of you, and I’m gonna watch you suffer for every time you fucked Dax, before your body finally gives up. Just like you watched your dumbass druggie boyfriend drown in that lake. How’s that for poetic justice?”

  The sun dipped low on the horizon, an orange glow settling over the grandiose white silk tents. Tyler and Layla graced the dance floor, unable to keep their hands - or mouths - off one another from one second to the next, acting more like horny teenagers than adults. Well, at least Tyler was an adult. The verdict was still out on his wife. There had been lots of speculation on her actual age, but no confirmation. With that stripper body, she’d no doubt keep him sated, that was for sure.

  Cooper tapped the face of his watch. “Hey, where the hell did Sara go for those drinks? I’m losing my buzz.”

  Daxton scanned the crowd, desperate to shrug off the feeling of unease that had settled into his conscious. Every time Sara disappeared from sight, panic overtook, the knowledge that some crazy stalker was still out there, lurking patiently for the next opportunity to pounce and inflict harm on her. But saying anything would only give credence to her fears, and the last thing he wanted was to see her in distress. Dammit, he should have made Sean follow her. Fuck normalcy. A couple of months ago, things were different. But now, they were living in a different time; a time where sick fuckers wouldn’t rest until their target was eliminated. “Maybe she had to make a pit stop.” The evening air was cool, but the goose bumps popping up along his arms weren’t caused by the drop in temperature. Enough time had passed. When his arms were wrapped around her, he’d be able to relax. Then, and only then. “Hey, I’m going to run to the guesthouse for my guitar. I left it in one of the bedrooms.”

  “Text Merrick. He’ll get it for you. It’s a long walk.” Liam draped an arm around his girlfriend, Lacie’s, shoulders, dropping a kiss on her bare skin.

  “It’s fine. I can walk a few feet, lazy ass.” Daxton gripped the arms of the chair and lifted himself out, gritting his teeth. Still sore, but fuck it. He was alive.

  Cooper slammed his hands on the table. “I’ll come with, as long as we can make my kind of pit stop along the way.”

  “Great, and if I have to carry your sorry ass, who’s gonna have my back?”

  “You’re looking mighty sexy tonight, brother. I’m sure someone will happily volunteer for the job.”

  Daxton rolled his eyes. “Let’s move. You know Tyler hates to be kept waiting, and we have to do a quick sound check before we get on stage.”

  Crowds of wedding guests spilled into every available space on the dance floor. Pulse pounding beats vibrated the floor beneath his feet, the sounds almost loud enough to drown out all thought. A girl in a tight black bandage dress flashed a slow smile as he pushed Cooper past the bar. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with something a little more potent than just plain excitement, and the come-hither look wasn’t wasted on her target audience.

  “Oh fuck, yeah,” Cooper mumbled under his breath. He grasped Daxton’s shoulder. “Dude, why don’t you go ahead without me? I think I’m ready to make that pit stop right about now.”

  “You’re a real tool, you know that? We’re supposed to perform in ten. Don’t get lost under her dress for too long.”

  Cooper snickered. “Dress is like Saran Wrap. It ain’t staying on long.”

  He watched Cooper saunter up to the silicone-enhanced brunette, a smile tugging his lips upward. Whatever got his mind off Laney. Chick had gotten under his skin like…Christ, like only one other before her. Bad news. Wait, scratch that. Obscenely, horrifically, colossally, horribly, bad news. Fuck that. He couldn’t watch Cooper tumble down that rabbit hole again.

  Soft, white twinkling lights illuminated a path toward the guesthouse, and there was still no sign of Sara. Dusk had set in, and no other light shone from the windows. The place looked deserted. Why weren’t any of the guards flanking entrances with their Uzis? The iron gates were a decent deterrent, but it wasn’t like so
me sicko would have to scale barbed wire to get beyond the perimeter. Not like there were attack dogs patrolling the property, although he’d have paid a shitload for a canine contingent. He pressed his fingers to his temples, his feet pounding the cobblestones. Fuck! Why did he let her go alone?

  He reached the closest door, breathless, the windows completely black. A loud crash from inside the house made him jump. He stumbled backward into a large bush, grabbing onto the branches to keep from falling into the dirt. Needles pricked his exposed skin, but it was better than face planting into the flowerbed. A quick scan of the grounds confirmed he was still alone. His pulse throbbed, fuzzy memories of the attack looping through his mind. Logic crept into his conscious. Go back to the reception, find security, don’t open the door.

  But his hand ignored the persistent voices. The only thing driving him was Sara. He grasped the brass handle, the heavy door creaking open, blanketing him in darkness. His chest tightened, unsure of what he was about to find, hoping it was just one of Layla’s cats knocking into a vase. But the icy sensation slithering down his spine told a different story.

  His trembling fingers found the wall switch and slid it upward. “Sara?” No response. Nothing but eerie silence. He crept toward the nearest hallway, avoiding the porcelain chunks scattered across the marble tile floor. No cat in sight.

  Get help!

  Find Sara!

  Call Sean!

  Competing thoughts rang between his ears, all reason flying out the still-open door. Someone was in the house with him. He felt it.

  Click, click, click.

  Daxton’s stomach clenched at the intruding sound, his fingers closing around a nearby brass lamp stand. He pulled his arm back, prepared to strike. His muscles tensed, grip tight. Fucking lamp was heavy, and he’d make sure it did enough damage to stop whoever the hell was terrorizing them.

  A shadow from one of the rooms appeared on the shiny tile floor, slowly getting larger as it approached.

  Click, click, click.

  “Dax.” Merrick appeared from a nearby doorway. He looked like shit, rumpled, sweaty, completely opposite his normal coiffed self. “You came.”

  All the breath vacated his body. He collapsed against the wall and dropped the lamp stand. “Q, what the fuck are you doing in here in the dark? I thought you were that crazy stalker.”

  Merrick ran a hand down over his face. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Daxton’s eyes widened. Blood spotted the front of Merrick’s white shirt. “Are you hurt? Why is there blood on your shirt?” His temples pounded. “Where is Sara?”

  “Did you really not know, Dax?” Merrick inched closer. His voice was flat, blue eyes void of any emotion, dull, lifeless.

  “Not know what? What the hell are you talk—?”

  Merrick’s lips stretched into a straight tight line. “For years I’ve done everything to show you how I feel. Is it because you just don’t care? Is that why you ignored all my attempts?”

  The words kept coming out, but Daxton’s mind was unable to formulate questions. The air was so humid, yet the chills persisted. “Merrick, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. What have you tried to show me?”

  “You called me Merrick,” he mused, raking his hands through his blue-tipped hair, creeping closer. “You haven’t called me that in years.”

  “I feel like I’m missing something. You’re my best friend. If I did something to piss you off, just tell me.” Daxton’s pulse spiked under Merrick’s penetrating gaze.

  “Your friendship isn’t enough, Dax. I need…no I crave, all of you. I can’t fight it anymore. For years, I’ve watched you parade around those groupie sluts.” Merrick circled him, his stare transforming into something decidedly more predatory. His temples throbbed, blood rushing between his ears. “Every time I got rid of one, another would show up, flashing her tight, shiny pussy at you.”

  Beads of perspiration popped up along the back of Daxton’s neck, almost as though his body had lapped his mind in the quest for clarity. “Got rid of who, Merrick?”

  “All of them. Brandi, Gia… Sara.” His blue eyes darkened, his voice gruff. “I had to eliminate the competition.”

  “Merrick, what have you done to Sara?”

  His shoulders hunched forward. “I knew you’d never fall in love with me if she were still around. Not that she could ever give you what you need. Not like I could.”

  “You sick fuck!” Daxton grabbed the lapels of Merrick’s tuxedo jacket and threw him against a wall. The force sent a row of paintings crashing to the marble floor. “What did you do?”

  “It’s too late to worry about what I did. She can’t have you because you’re mine.” A smile tugged at the corners of Merrick’s mouth. “And also because she’s dead. Well, at least close to it.”

  Dead… dead… dead.

  The word thundered between Daxton’s ears. His clenched fist crashed against Merrick’s mouth, but that sinister smile never fucking wavered. Again and again, he pounded with everything he had, ignoring the pain slicing through his chest with each launch of his arm.

  Merrick finally crumbled to the floor, blood gushing from his nose and lips. “You’re too late, Dax. If I can’t have you, neither can she.”

  Daxton fell to his knees, his eyes stinging with tears. “You sonofabitch!” He fisted Merrick’s short, spiky hair and slammed his head backward into the wall. “Sara!” He struggled to his feet, his voice echoing throughout the vacant guesthouse as he stumbled down the hallway. One of the bedroom doors was cracked open, a dim light shining into the otherwise darkened space. He pushed open the door, a strangled cry escaping his mouth.

  “Sara,” he whispered, crossing the room in a few short steps. Duct tape covered her mouth, an IV needle stuck out of her blotchy, red arm. His eyes fell to the clear bag of liquid at her side. Potassium chloride. He collapsed next to her limp body, grasping her cold, almost lifeless fingers. Her eyes fluttered open, bloodshot and swollen.

  His fingers trembled as he pulled the tape off the needle. Sara barely winced. There wasn’t time to wait for a medic. Whatever the hell poison this was had to—

  “Dax! Are you ready or what? Coop said you came back here for your guitar.” Finn’s booming voice broke the silence in the guesthouse. “Jesus Christ! What happened in here?”

  “Finn! I’m in the bedroom. Get help!”

  Finn’s footsteps pounded on the tile floor as he approached. “Holy shit! Who the hell did this?”

  “It was Merrick. He has her hooked up to a potassium chloride drip. I don’t know how long it’s been, but we need help. Get a medic!” He grabbed a bunch of tissues from a nearby table, pressed them to the swollen area on her arm and slid out the needle.

  “Merrick? Get the fuck out of here! Did you see him? Where is he?”

  Daxton’s stomach dropped to his knees. “What do you mean? I knocked him out. He’s in the foyer.”

  “Only thing in the foyer is a whole lotta blood, dude. No Merrick.” Finn pulled out his phone and shot off a quick call. “Okay, Sean and the medic are on the way. Is she conscious?”

  Tears stung Daxton’s eyes. He pulled off the duct tape and pressed his lips to Sara’s. “Baby, can you hear me?”

  Her eyes opened a crack then closed again. Breathing was steady, that had to be a good sign. “Brandi and Gia,” she mumbled.

  He let out a relieved breath. Thank God she could speak. “What about them?”

  “It was Merrick. Said I didn’t deserve you, that only he could satisfy you.” She shifted, letting out a low groan. “My arm really hurts.”

  “What the hell, man?” Finn whispered. “Is she hallucinating or something?”

  Daxton shook his head and caressed the side of her face. “No.”

  “He’s in love with Dax,” Sara murmured, her eyes closing again.

  “Stay with me, baby.” Dax squeezed her hands. “You’re gonna be fine. Just keep those gorgeous eyes open.”

  “So Merrick i
s gay? The guy who bangs more chicks than all of us put together? Holy fuck, that’s a lot to process.” Finn raked a hand through his hair.

  Loud sirens approached, the piercing noises resounding in the guesthouse. Footsteps pounded into the foyer, walkie-talkies blaring.

  “Dax! Where you at?”

  Never had he been so happy to hear Sean’s voice. “We’re in here!”

  A throng of people descended upon them. One of the medics knelt down, checking Sara’s vitals. “Tell me what happened.”

  Daxton managed to recount what he’d found above the din of voices. “I don’t know how long the needle was in, but she’s been semi-conscious. Maybe she didn’t get that much from the drip.”

  The medic pointed to the injection site. “Nope. This is a case of pure luck. You see all this swelling? It means whoever set up the IV blew the vein. The needle may have been too big, or it was just inserted incorrectly. It ruptured, meaning the potassium chloride spilled into the surrounding area. Anything injected would just be absorbed into her body.”

  “So she’s fine?”

  “We’ll run some blood work, but judging from the amount of liquid still in the bag, I’d say yes.”

  “Dax!” Tyler pushed through the small crowd that had formed in the bedroom. “What the hell is going on? Is everyone okay?”

  Daxton let out a deep sigh, still gripping Sara’s hand as the medics loaded her onto a stretcher. “For the moment.”

  “Merrick tried to kill Sara,” Finn offered.

  Tyler’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. “Merrick?”

  “Stabbed Dax, too. But that was an accident. He thought it was Sara. Tonight he came to finish the job, but he botched it all up.”

  Tyler’s mouth dropped open. “But why?”

  “Apparently, he has the hots for your son and in his deluded blue-tipped head, he thought if he offed Sara, they’d be able to run off into the sunset together.”

  Tyler rubbed his temples. “Where the hell is he now?”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Cole. We’re sealing off the perimeter. We’ll get him.” Sean palmed the walkie-talkie in his hand and exited the room, barking instructions to the security team.