Montgomery

by Fisher-Davis, Susan

  She nodded. She knew he was right. It was true he was a bad guy, but he hadn’t made any inappropriate moves or suggestive comments. She stared at him.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Why?”

  “Your name is why? Your parents certainly had a strange sense of humor.” She tilted her head down so he wouldn’t see her smile.

  “You’re a real smart-ass, princess, beautiful and a smart mouth. What more could a man want?”

  “Why can’t you tell me your name? What’s it going to hurt? You know mine.” Isabella grinned at him with as much a flirty attitude as she could muster.

  “Colt Raines,” he said in low evasive tone.

  Colt Raines. Isabel rolled the name through her head. She liked it. Somehow, it suited him. She thought it was very sexy, just like him. Why did he have to be a criminal? She curled her legs under her, tilting her head at him.

  “Why do you do this?”

  He shrugged. “Why not? The money’s good.”

  “It’s wrong, Colt. What happened in your life that you would turn to a life of crime?”

  He stood and walked to the window, pulling back the curtain. He turned his back to her, but then he spun to face her.

  “It’s none of your business. I thought you had to use the bathroom. Do it and get back to bed.”

  The tone of voice he used hurt her. She’d made him angry. She couldn’t afford to do that, not if she was hoping to get him on her side and help her get out of there. She gave him a nod and climbed off the bed, hurrying into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and after using the facilities, she gazed into the mirror. She was a mess. With smeared make-up and mascara, she looked like a zombie. Turning on the water, she washed her face.

  As a last minute thought, she took her gown and pantyhose off. She was going to walk out there in her bra and boy-cut panties. It was no less than wearing a swimsuit, she told herself. Isabella was going to get him to help her one way or another. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped out. She hid a triumphant grin when she heard Colt hiss in a breath. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him.

  “What are you up to, princess Bella?” he said, softly but not menacingly.

  “Me? Nothing. Why?”

  He chuckled softly. “That may work on other men, but it’s not going to work on me. I have way more self-control than you can ever imagine. Although, I will say if this was another time…” He looked her up and down. “I’d very happily take you up on the offer, in a heartbeat.”

  She jerked her arm from his grasp. “I just wanted to be more comfortable. Don’t flatter yourself.”

  He laughed. “Sure. Get in bed.”

  Trying not to let him know how self-conscious she suddenly felt, she walked to the bed and got under the covers. Pulling them up to her chin, she watched him from under her lashes. He returned to his seat in the chair, stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing his booted ankles before clasping his hands across his flat stomach and closing his eyes.

  Damn him! He knew she was trying to distract him. So he was no dummy.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him. His hair fell down over his forehead and her hands itched to smooth it back. His T-shirt sleeves were tight on his biceps. He had a great body. She could tell he took care of it. She just couldn’t understand why he’d be involved in this and probably never would. She mentally shrugged. Why would anyone deliberately get into this way of life? Barkley was just a bad person. Colt didn’t seem to be, but then what did she know? She’d always had a good life, growing up with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth, and she’d always gotten what she’d wanted as a child. Spoiled by both her parents, she’d never wanted for anything but she never acted as if she was better than anyone else was. She had friends who didn’t grow up the same way.

  Patsy Murphy came to mind. She loved Patsy. They were so close. They’d met at the Humane Society in Oregon, walking dogs. Patsy worked there as a veterinary tech. They’d gotten along from the very start. Complete opposites in that Isabella was tall, whereas Patsy was petite. She barely reached five foot four, but she was no pushover. She was feisty and said what she thought. If someone didn’t like it, she couldn’t care less. She’d even given Isabella the nickname of Bella. She was the only person who used the nickname, at least until now. She adored Patsy and missed her.

  Isabella suddenly felt saddened by what she could only imagine was going through Patsy’s mind right now. Surely, her kidnapping was all over the news and Patsy would be upset for her best friend. Isabella smiled. If Patsy could get here, she’d make sure none of these men was left standing once she got through with them. She glanced over at Colt. All of them, except him. He’d still be standing. It would take more than a feisty petite woman to take him down. She was allowing her admiring gaze to travel over him again when he suddenly spoke.

  “You really need to stop looking at me like that, princess. I might get ideas.” She swore she saw his mouth twitch.

  She huffed, pulling the covers over her head, but heard him chuckle. She eventually fell asleep under the covers.

  * * * *

  Mont woke up to the sound of Barkley pounding on the door yelling for him to come out. He jumped up out of the chair and opened the door. Barkley looked in and saw Isabella under the covers. He motioned with his head for Mont to follow him to the living room. Mont glanced over his shoulder at Isabella and started out of the room. Blackman moved to step inside, but Mont stopped in front of him blocking the man.

  “She’s not going anywhere and you aren’t going in there.” He stared Blackman down. Blackman mumbled under his breath, and went back to his chair in the living room. Barkley grinned at Mont.

  “He just wants to have some fun with the redhead.”

  “Over my dead body,” Mont told him.

  Barkley raised his eyebrows. “Want her for yourself, huh?” He shrugged. “Not going to happen. I won’t have any of you raping her. It’s something I will not allow.” He looked around the room. “Any of you, got it?”

  Mont took a deep breath and exhaled. “Like I said, over my dead body. Rape isn’t going to be part of the deal and trust me, anyone here tries will only get it by rape with that one.”

  Blackman stood jutting his chin high. “Except maybe for you, pretty boy.”

  Mont grinned. “Jealous?”

  “Fuck you,” Blackman yelled. Mont burst out laughing, making Blackman furious. Barkley stepped in.

  “Sit down. All of you.” He looked at Blackman. “Colt’s right. Rape isn’t going to be a part of this. We may be sons of bitches for anything else, but not rape. I don’t like it and it won’t happen.” He looked at Blackman. “You got that?”

  Blackman finally nodded while glaring at Mont.

  Mont ignored him and took a seat. Barkley paced a bit before speaking again.

  “I had a letter delivered to the governor. I told him we wanted to trade him for his daughter. If I don’t hear something in a week, I’ll kill her.”

  “What’s that going to gain you? You kill her and you’ll never get who you really want. I’m telling you the FBI will never let a trade like you’re asking happen. They will let you kill his daughter before they let him come here for a trade. You fucked up, Jonas. I told you it wasn’t going to work,” Mont said watching him close. “You should let her go. Take her somewhere and drop her off. This was a stupid ass move.”

  Barkley glared at him. Mont noted how a vein in the man’s neck pulsed. He was growing angry.

  “I know I fucked up. I don’t need you to tell me that. Shit! If you were any other man, I’d kill you right now for saying such a thing to me.” He sucked in a breath and exhaled. “But I know you’re right. I should have waited for my chance. When I heard about the ball, I just wanted to go after him and I thought it was my best chance. I knew better too.” He shook his head. “Now I have his daughter and I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.” He began to pace. “I’ll jus
t have to see what happens. It may work. If not, I’ll kill her to make a point.”

  “What point would that be?” Mont asked.

  “That Jonas Barkley does what he says. She’s nothing to me, but she’s that bastard’s only child. It’ll hurt him and that’ll be good enough until I finally do get him. And I will get him. One day, I will get him.”

  Mont’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t let Barkley kill her. Fuck! What in the hell was he going to do? Killing her would prove nothing. Who cared if Barkley keeps his word or not? Not the governor, that’s for sure. Once the man’s daughter was dead, he wouldn’t care about anything, even if Barkley were to get to him. Mont had to make Barkley see that.

  “He won’t care about your word if you kill his daughter. He won’t care about anything if you kill her. His life will be over anyway. You have to do something different,” Mont said.

  Barkley stopped pacing and glared at him. “Why are you so fucking smart?”

  Mont arched an eyebrow at him. Barkley shook his head.

  “God damn it. I know you’re right. I need to get the governor. That’s all there is to it. I’ll see what the letter does, if anything. If they don’t make a trade we’ll just have to get him some other way.” He looked around the room. “That means none of you do anything to that girl. Colt will be the one to watch her. He thinks with the head on his shoulders not the one on his dick like the rest of you pricks.” Barkley strode from the room.

  Blackman once again glared at Mont. Mont winked at him, pissing him off even more. The man made a quick move in his direction, but when Mont failed to move, Blackman sat back down. Mont chuckled with satisfaction and returned to the bedroom where Isabella still slept. He opened the door, quietly stepping inside. She was still under the covers. He took his seat in the chair, assuming his previous position and closed his eyes. He hoped to get a little sleep before she woke up.

  * * * *

  When Isabella woke, her gaze immediately went to the chair where Colt still lounged with his eyes closed. Then she noticed a pair of jeans and a top across the end of the bed and on the floor alongside the bed was a pair of running shoes. She looked at the clothes, and then at him. He was asleep. Good Lord, he was something.

  She reached for the jeans and top. They looked to be her size. Where had they come from? She glanced over to the clock on the nightstand and was shocked to see it was just past noon. She’d never slept that late in her life.

  Pushing the covers off, she put the top on. It actually fit. Standing, she pulled the jeans on. They fit perfectly too. There were ankle socks tucked inside the running shoes. She was amazed they were also the right size. She tiptoed to the bathroom, passing Colt, and once inside, quietly closed the door. She washed her face, used the facilities, and returned to the bedroom. Colt was awake and sitting up in the chair.

  “Thank you for the clothes and shoes,” she said, trying not to look at him.

  He shrugged. “You couldn’t wear that gown all the time. And I’m sure those heels would be a killer to wear all day long.”

  She nodded and tipped her head to the side. “How did you know my size?”

  He stood up and stretched. Isabella averted her eyes. How could she be so attracted to him? He walked to the window and gazed out.

  “I guessed at the jeans and top. The shoes were easy. I just looked to see what size your fuck me shoes were.” He turned to look at her.

  She knew she was blushing and so turned away from him. He burst out laughing. She turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow in question.

  “You paraded around here last night in your underwear yet you blush when I say your heels scream ‘fuck-me’.”

  Damn if he wasn’t right. She smiled and shrugged. She had best keep things friendly with him if she wanted him to help her. Her stomach growled making him grin.

  “Let’s get some food in you, princess.” He opened the door for her. She hesitated before going out. “It’s okay, we’re alone. They all went to another place. This house is just for strategizing, and for keeping you in.”

  She snorted. “I feel honored.”

  He chuckled and followed her out. As he moved around her in the kitchen, Isabella took a seat at the table. He opened the fridge and looked inside.

  “What would you like? Breakfast or lunch?”

  “Lunch is fine. What do you have?” She stood and walked toward the fridge, coming to stand behind him, trying to see around him. He turned to say something and ran into her. He quickly caught her around the waist as she started to fall backwards. She grabbed his arms as he pulled her against him. Her breath caught as she looked up at him. He was staring at her mouth. Without thinking, she licked her bottom lip. As if in pain, he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, whatever he was thinking had cleared and he removed his hands from her waist. She dropped her hands from his arms, stepping away from him.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were behind me,” he said in apology and glanced away.

  “It’s okay. I should have let you know I was there.” She couldn’t look at him either. He made her feel things she’d never felt before, but he was not the man for her. He was in with a man who murdered people.

  “Were you with Barkley when he murdered that family?” she asked him in a quiet curious voice.

  “No. I met him in prison. We struck up a…well, a friendship, you could say.”

  “How did he get out? Who helped him?” Suddenly, Isabella was shaking with anger.

  “I did,” he said, not looking at her.

  Isabella gasped. Glaring at him, she shook her head. “I knew you were a bad person, but to get him out! I don’t understand why anyone would help that monster get out of prison. He’s a murderer. I hate you!” She ran from the kitchen toward the bedroom where she’d spent the night. She slammed the door behind her, threw herself on the bed, and cried.

  * * * *

  Mont knew she wasn’t going to like the answer she got, but he wasn’t going to lie to her. She’d find out soon enough. Either one of the men would say something or Barkley himself would, but it would’ve come out sooner or later. Mont had gotten him out of prison and he had his own reasons for it, reasons which had nothing to do with her. Reasons she would never know. He walked to the bedroom door and started to knock, but changed his mind and threw the door open, making it slam into the wall. Isabella sat up quickly and wiped the tears from her eyes. Mont strode over to her and grabbed her arm, narrowing his eyes at her.

  “You need to get something through your head, princess. I’m not your friend. You’re not going to twist my mind into helping you. I won’t help you escape no matter what you do. You can parade around in your underwear and tempt me, but it won’t work. If you think that fucking me will change my mind then sure, by all means, let’s try it. It won’t do you any good, though. I will not help you get out of here,” he said through clenched teeth.

  He stared at her, watching a tear roll down her cheek. It took everything he had not to take her in his arms. To save himself more than her, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the room. Pulling the door closed, he locked it. Standing there outside the door, he wanted to bang his head against it. Clenching his fists, he marched through the kitchen and out the back door. He kicked at a rock in the driveway, but it didn’t help. Ramming his fist through a wall wouldn’t help either. He knew that. Taking several deep breaths, he finally calmed down. Damn her! He couldn’t help her. He couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted to. He just couldn’t.

  * * * *

  Isabella wanted to scream at Colt. How could he help a man like Barkley escape prison? The man was a monster. Barkley didn’t care who he hurt and she needed to remember that. He’d kill her in a heartbeat. God, she needed to get out of here. There was no way Colt was going to help her. She knew that now. She got off the bed and put her ear to the door but didn’t hear anything. He’d locked the door, but Colt was out there somewhere. She glanced around the room, and then moved to the win
dow, pulling the curtain back. Damn, he hadn’t lied. The window was nailed shut. Wait, someone hadn’t pounded the nails flush. She looked around the room again, trying to find anything she could use to get those nails out, when her glance fell on her heels lying on the floor. She picked one of them up and started using the heel against one of the nails. She was tearing her shoe up, but the nail was actually moving. She kept putting the heel against it and pushing. It was moving, but not quickly enough for her liking. She forced herself to be patient and work at it slowly. She ran for the bed when she heard someone unlocking the door and hid her shoe under the bed cover. She took a seat on the bed.

  Colt opened the door, carrying a tray, which he set on the bed. She saw he’d made her a sandwich and brought her a soda. He didn’t say anything or look at her as he left the room. Isabella released a long breath of relief. She was no longer hungry, but she ate the sandwich anyway since she’d need her strength if she were to escape. After eating the sandwich, she set the tray in the chair by the door and went back to working on the nail. At least she’d be able to hear him when he unlocked the door again.

  She was getting frustrated with the nail. It wasn’t going to work and she wanted to cry. She leaned her head against the window and heard the back door open, and then close. Did he go outside? She tiptoed back toward the door and listened. It was quiet. Looking back at the window, she knew she had no other choice. She picked up the lamp from the table and threw it at the window, breaking the glass. She jumped through it, cutting her hand in the process but she didn’t care. She was out and running as fast as she could through the woods. She had no idea where she was or where she was going, but she ran for her life.

  “Isabella! Stop!”