by dlady
“You know Steph was in an abusive relationship.”
Matt wasn’t asking a question, but Jared nodded anyway.
“I don’t know all the details, and if I did, I’d still tell you to get them from her. She’d been with the ex since her senior year. He had a gambling and alcohol problem. He couldn’t hold down a job. He forced Steph to strip to earn money. She didn’t want to do it, but like most abused women, she didn’t see a way out.”
Jared rubbed his forehead. “He forced her to strip against her will?” He flexed his fingers as if testing their strength before he wrapped them around the dickhead’s throat. He’d gut the asshole.
“Yeah. I don’t know details. But the reason she finally left him is because he wanted her to do more than strip.”
Jared cursed under his breath. “I’m going to fucking murder him.”
“You’ll have plenty of backup. There are a few of us who’d like to take him down. There’s more. She lost her baby because he beat the crap out of her one night. She thinks he did it on purpose. He didn’t want any kids around.”
“Fuck.” Jared’s head was about to explode, and he fought to control his rarely aggravated temper. He would hunt the dick down, and they’d never find the body. Bronson would help. He was sure of it.
Matt was watching him as if he expected something.
“What?” Jared asked.
“Are you okay?”
“Fuck no, I’m not okay. Why didn’t she tell me?”
Matt chuckled. “Same with Vi. It is what it is, buddy. A woman’s body is a beautiful thing. Almost every guy here envies you, but they don’t have a clue how precious Steph is. Not like you do.”
“It’s not that. It’s the abuse, losing the baby. I could’ve supported her if I’d known about it. She should’ve told me. Why didn’t she tell me?” Jared was bombarded with conflicting emotions.
“So you could get all judgy on her? Demand to know why she stayed with a bastard like that?”
“I wouldn’t get judgy. I’m the last person to judge anyone. Look at the mess I got myself into with Candy, but Steph knew I had trust issues—why not tell me, so I don’t find out like I did tonight?”
“She wants that part of her past to go away.”
“Some things never go away, no matter how much you want them to.”
Matt sighed. “Rod, you’re going to have to try to understand where she’s coming from. Did you tell her about your financial situation?”
“No.” Jared hesitated. He hadn’t told Matt, either, but it hadn’t been hard to guess, he imagined. Matt had been to Jared’s place, ridden in his car, seen him count his pennies to pay his bar bill.
Matt stared at him as if he was a moron who couldn’t see the forest for the trees. Well, hell, maybe he couldn’t. He wanted to keep his past under wraps, and so did she. They said they trusted each other, but not enough to bare their souls and tell their secret shames.
Had Candy broken him to the point where absolute trust wasn’t an option for him? What about Steph? She’d been beaten by the man she loved and forced into a profession she loathed. Was she too broken?
For the first time in weeks, clouds of doom overshadowed any good stuff.
This was about trust. Yet he did trust her. He hadn’t told her about his finances because he couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in her eyes, just as he’d seen it in his mother’s when she’d entered his apartment.
“You two need to have a sit down and discuss all this,” Matt said.
“Yeah, we do, and we will. Once I get back from this road trip.”
Matt studied him long and hard then nodded. “Good luck.” He pointed toward the rowdy table of guys. “Looks like dinner is here. If we don’t get over there soon, those assholes will be eating our food too.”
Jared managed a half-smile, still trying to sort through all the thoughts ricocheting inside his skull and figure out a course of action.
Chapter 18—Shootout
Steph stared at those telling words from Jared on her phone. She knew what they meant. No one needed to spell it out for her.
Steph, we have a lot to talk about.
He’d been elusive all day. She’d known something was off but not what it was. He’d responded to her few texts with one-word answers. She’d let him alone, assuming he was in game mode and needed to concentrate on the opposing team, not her.
Steph didn’t respond to him until after the Sockeyes lost the game, and Jared played like shit. He definitely knew. She could tell by the tightness of his shoulders and how stiffly he was skating. His usually impeccable timing was way off. The rest of the team wasn’t picking up the slack. They all seemed off, and they lost five to one.
After the game was over and she’d given him enough time to shower and dress, she called him. He didn’t pick up.
Damn you, Jared “Hot Rod” Roderick. Be a man and talk to me.
She texted: I’m sorry.
Jared: Why didn’t you tell me?
Steph: I should have.
Jared: I want to understand. See you soon.
Steph: Okay.
That was the last she heard from him.
Steph waited until Vi and the boys had gone to bed and called a taxi. She knew Vi would try to stop her. She couldn’t have this showdown with Vi and Matt as witnesses. She left Vi a note and thanked her for her hospitality. She’d be okay. Gino was hiding out, not wanting to be arrested. She would be perfectly safe in her studio.
She waited until she was certain Jared’s plane was in the air and texted him: I’m at home. Want to talk in private. Will be here.
She thought for a moment and added: I love you. And tapped send.
She stared at her message for a long time. There was no way to take it back. She’d risked it all for Jared, now she’d see if he could forgive her. She hoped he could. The Jared she believed in would be upset, but he’d get over it.
Or so she hoped.
She hadn’t been sleeping well all week and lay down on the couch with a Hallmark movie to wait for him. As some point she must’ve drifted off to sleep, because she woke to rapping on her door. Half-asleep, Steph ran for the door and yanked it open, fully intending to throw herself in Jared’s arms. She stopped short of doing so. The man at the door was much shorter than Jared, dressed in all black, and wearing a cruel scowl Jared would never be capable of.
Gino.
His smile was slow and predatory. “Hey, babe, miss me?”
“What are you…” Steph trailed off as she stared down the barrel of a pistol. She froze, and Gino pushed past her, slamming the door shut behind him.
“You’re going to do something for me. See, you’re mine. No one else’s. You’re going to write out this note and leave it on the door for your lover boy. If you don’t, the people in the big house will die, one by one. Friends of yours, aren’t they?”
Steph held her hands up to her mouth and gasped. “Izzy and Riley and Connor? No, you can’t.”
“Then you’d best cooperate.”
“I—I will,” Steph stammered. Her hands were shaking and tears began to fill her eyes. She blinked rapidly and fought the panic growing inside her. She couldn’t lose her head. She had to stay cool, figure out what to do. Above all else, she needed to avoid igniting Gino’s volatile temper.
“Sit down.” He slammed her onto the barstool at the counter and grabbed a notepad nearby. “Write what I tell you.” For emphasis, he poked her in the neck with the gun.
Steph swallowed back a sob and tried to put on a brave front. Gino smelled fear. He thrived on it. If she showed a healthy dose of fear, he’d be giddy with power. She couldn’t do such a thing. Gino needed to question what was going on, believe she might have the upper hand, and be concerned about it. Maybe think she knew something he didn’t.
“I don’t see how writing a note is going to help your cause any,” she said.
“It’s not. It’s helping yours. They’ll understand why you left and not go lo
oking for you.”
“Jared will look for me no matter what.”
“You’re a stupid bitch. Half the team has seen a stripper video of you by now. He’s done. You’re damaged goods, and he’s dealt with your likes before.”
Fury rose inside Steph, forcing out any fear she might feel. “You sent him a video of me?”
“Not me exactly, but I got it in the hands of someone who did.”
“You bastard.” She glared at him, and his dark eyes flashed a warning. Normally, she’d have heeded such a warning by cowering and going into a fetal position, waiting for the blows to strike her. She didn’t this time. She stood up to him, and regardless of the consequences, doing so felt damn good.
“Write the fucking note. You’re not so special. You’re trash, and now he knows it.”
“Jared will never believe whatever lies you’re forcing me to write.” Steph glared at him and knew in an instant that she’d pushed him too far. He punched her in the jaw with such force that she was thrown off the barstool onto the floor. Her head hit the tile with a cracking sound and everything went blissfully black.
Steph came to on the floor. Someone was standing over her, hands on hips. She blinked multiple times in an attempt to clear her blurred vision. Her head was pounding, and her stomach threatened mutiny. Gino kicked her in the ribs, and she cried out. The events of the last few minutes flooded back.
Gino grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her feet. “You wanna die right here and now, bitch?”
“No,” she responded, forcing her voice to be strong and steady.
He shoved a pen in her hand. “Write what I say and make it quick. No more stalling.”
“Okay.”
Steph did as she was told and prayed Jared would believe in her enough to see through the bullshit for what it was. She didn’t know how this would end, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
* * * *
Bronson Warner crouched in the bushes and appraised the situation. His instincts had served him well tonight. He had a gut feeling Gino would resurface, and at Steph’s apartment. The guy had been bragging to anyone who’d listen all week about how he was going to teach that girl a lesson. Bronson had been one step behind him at each bar he frequented.
Now Gino was here, and he appeared to have a gun. Bronson saw him brandishing something in his hand as he pushed himself inside the apartment.
Shit.
He ran through his options, which were few. First, he needed to call the cops.
Before he could decide on a course of action, the door opened, and Gino and Steph walked out. He studied Steph. She seemed a little wobbly on her feet, and he could make out what looked like a fist mark on her face in the light over her doorway.
He gripped the phone in his pocket. He didn’t dare call right now on the off chance Gino would hear.
With shaking hands, Steph put a note on the door and walked in front of Gino to his pickup sitting out of sight around a corner. Bronson saw a glint of light from a gun barrel shoved in Steph’s back.
Fuck.
He crouched low, hoping for a chance to rush the guy, but it was too risky. He’d been in enough situations to know patience and timing were the difference between life and death for all concerned.
Stealthily, Bronson followed them down the driveway to an old pickup parked near the street. He was prepared to pounce as soon as the asshole turned his back, but something caught Gino’s attention, and he swung around brandishing the gun, while walking backward to the driver’s door with Steph held in front of him as a human shield. He peered into the brush several feet from Bronson’s location. Whatever had spooked him, he hadn’t discovered he had company yet.
Bronson didn’t have a clear shot, not without possibly hitting Steph. The asshole shoved Steph into his piece-of-crap truck and started it. The thing belched and spewed out smoke. It was too dark to make out either person in the vehicle.
Bronson slipped through the trees and hopped in his classic Ford Mustang. He hunkered down and waited until the truck drove down the block, then he turned the ignition, revved the engine, and pulled onto the street. He didn’t turn on his lights yet, but as he maneuvered the slick, wet streets, he kept Gino’s taillights in his sights. He called Drew, knowing he’d get the message to Jared. The phone went straight to voicemail. He left an abrupt, to-the-point message: “Subject has Steph. I’m following her.”
Then he called 911. To be expected, the dispatcher asked a ton of questions. All Bronson wanted to do was concentrate on following the asshole without being noticed. Despite his inclination to drop the connection and deal with this on his own, Bronson resisted his react-first, think-later instincts. He put the iPhone on speaker and set it on the dash, giving a running commentary of the streets whizzing by.
He backed off when Gino turned down a dark alley with a mixture of houses and apartments in various stages of disrepair. Turning off his headlights, Bronson pulled to the curb near the dead-end alley the truck had turned down. He hugged the side of the building and peeked around it. The truck had stopped, and the lights went off.
It was showtime, and the cavalry wasn’t arriving anytime soon.
Using all of his military training, Bronson clung to the side of the building, careful to stay out of the dim lights lining the alley. He shoved his hand in his pocket and felt for his trusted weapon, calmed when his hand closed over the cold metal. He could do this. He’d survived worse situations.
* * * *
Jared had gotten a ride to the airport with Matt when they’d left on the road trip. Steph was staying at Matt’s house, so it made perfect sense they’d travel together. Matt pulled his SUV out of the parking garage and onto the highway.
Jared pulled out his phone and turned it on, just in case Steph left a message. She had, and one particular phrase choked him up: I love you.
He was an asshole. He didn’t care if she’d been a stripper. He didn’t care if she hadn’t told him everything, because he knew she would’ve when the time was right. All he cared about was Steph.
Matt glanced at him. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m a dickhead.”
“You won’t get any arguments from me on that count.” Matt grinned at him and chuckled.
“Bastard. Hey, Steph’s at the studio. Would you drop me off there before you go home?”
“I don’t know. You did call me a bastard.”
“Come on. Please.”
Matt laughed. “Of course I will, but what’s she doing there? She’s supposed to stay with Vi where it’s safe.”
“She wanted to talk in private.”
Matt nodded. “Yeah, I can understand that.”
Jared called Steph, but she didn’t pick up. He texted her: On my way. No response.
“Matt, something doesn’t feel right. She’s not answering.”
His buddy frowned and stepped on the accelerator. “Call Vi and make sure Steph’s not there.”
Jared quickly called Vi. She answered on the first ring. “Jared? Thank God it’s you. Is Steph with you? She’s not answering her phone, and I’m worried about her.”
“No, she’s not with me. Matt and I are heading to her apartment right now.”
“I’ll call Izzy and ask her to check on her.”
“Let me know what you find out. We’re about ten minutes away.” Jared disconnected the call and stared out the window. A million thoughts ran through his mind, and every one of them had to do with Steph.
God fucking damn it. She had to be okay. She had to be. They had so much life to live together. So many things to do, so many places to go. And he wanted kids, lots of them. That was, if she wanted kids. If she didn’t, he’d be okay with that, too. Nothing mattered but having Steph by his side for the rest of their lives.
Matt turned into the Blacks’ driveway. Izzy and Coop were standing on the landing to the garage apartment. Coop must have arrived a moment before. Izzy had something in her hand. She looked stricken with worry
and shock. Jared leaped out of the car before it came to a stop. He bounded up the stairs two a time. He knew the answer before he asked the question, but he stupidly asked anyway.
“Is she here?”
“No.” Izzy’s voice was choked with emotion, and she wiped tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her coat. “But she left this.” She handed the paper to Jared.
He took it from her and walked to where the outside light was brightest.
Jared, I’ve made a mistake. I love Gino, and I’m going back to him. Please don’t try to find me. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Take care, Steph
“It’s her handwriting,” Izzy said.
“But it’s not her words. She’d never go back to that bastard. Never,” Jared declared. “He made her write the note.”
Coop and Matt nodded their agreement.
“We need to call the police. She’s been kidnapped.” Coop fished his phone out his pocket and had started to dial when Jared’s phone rang.
He almost didn’t answer when he saw it was Drew. He didn’t have time for Drew right now, yet for some reason he picked up and barked into the phone, “What?”
“Bronson’s following Steph and Gino. He thought Gino might show up at her apartment, and he was staking it out tonight when Steph showed up. A while later, Gino arrived, gun in hand, and forced himself in the apartment.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He has a gun?” Jared was losing it, and he forced himself to get a handle on his emotions and think straight. He wouldn’t do anyone any good if he came apart right now. He looked into the concerned eyes of his friends. He wasn’t alone. He’d get through this, and so would Steph. She had to.
“Yeah. Bronson’s in contact with the cops, and he’s giving them second-by-second updates on where the car is.”
“Do you know where it is?”
Drew was silent for a moment. “You’re not going after them. Let the professionals handle it.”
Jared wanted to do something, had to do something, yet he recognized the wisdom in Drew’s words.