by D'Ann Lindun
“I only hope they go to the camps.” She crossed her fingers behind her back.
~*~
No shit this hill is steep!
As Johnny slid down the snowy, pine-covered mountainside on his ass, grabbing trees to steady himself, he wished he’d talked Montana into letting him go after Tom. Fleeing wasn’t his style and he didn’t like it.
If he were Tom, he’d be calling Johnny Cortez a pussy right about now. The thought made his scalp tighten.
He’d never run from anyone or anything in his life.
Leaving L.A. to escape Teal had been a mistake, this scenario even worse.
Running now left a terrible taste in his mouth.
If he were alone, he’d take after Tom, hunt him down and kick his ass until the guy begged for mercy. But he wasn’t on his own. Montana was with him, or he with her. Either way, he couldn’t risk her being hurt or killed.
No backstage babe with mile-high hair and killer nails, Montana could take care of herself. But he felt protective toward her. He almost laughed. Hell, she was a better shot, a better rider and a far better outdoorsman than him. He ought to let her take down Tom. There wouldn’t be much left of him when she got through. Of that Johnny had no doubt.
Sliding, slipping, they somehow made it to the bottom of the mountain. Wet, muddy and severely pissed off, Johnny shifted the rifle. Montana had insisted on taking the saddlebags. Not much was in them. A bottle of water and a couple packs of cranberry protein bars.
He longed for a drink.
A hot shower.
And a long night with his cock buried in Montana’s sweet pussy.
She brought his thoughts back to the present. “We made it.”
“Where do we go now?”
Pointing across the valley to the tallest peak, she said, “The other side of that mountain.”
“It might be easier to let Tom shoot us.” For Johnny, used to being surrounded by civilization, the expanse seemed almost insurmountable.
“There’s a trail over the pass. Once we cross this valley, it won’t be so hard.” Although Montana’s words were optimistic, she sounded exhausted.
Johnny squared his shoulders. If Montana could keep marching, so could he.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Crossing the valley took over two hours. Without a trail, tall tufts of grass, small streams and occasional boulders made it slow going. By the time they reached the bottom of the peak, Montana needed a breather.
Finding a large flat rock, she brushed snow away and sat. “I need one of those cranberry bars before we start climbing.”
Johnny glanced at the mountain ahead. “I need a drink.”
Montana handed him water although she knew full well he meant something stronger. “This is all I have.”
He took it and drank. “How far to Durango?”
Hooking a thumb over her shoulder, she said, “About five miles.”
A grin split his face. “Hot damn. A steak for dinner!”
The dry nut bar in her hand didn’t look so appealing when he talked about steak. “A soft bed sounds good to me.”
No sooner had the words come out of her mouth than she regretted them. She would be sleeping alone tonight.
The energy bar suddenly had no taste.
She reached for the water, trying not to choke. Stuffing the uneaten snack into the saddlebags, she said, “It’s a long hike. We better move.”
“The first thing I want is a sheriff. I’m going to prosecute Tom Kerrigan with everything I’ve got,” Johnny said.
“The press will love that.”
He made a disgusted sound. “I don’t give a flying fuck what they do. This guy has put you through hell and I’m going to see him behind bars before I leave Colorado.”
She paused and looked over her shoulder. “Don’t you mean us? He’s put us through the wringer?”
He shrugged. “It’s not my camp or cabin destroyed. I’m pissed at what he’s done to me, but what he’s done to you is criminal.”
“It’s my problem. You can go home and stay out of it. I’ll press charges myself.” She’d taken care of herself for a long time. Johnny butting in now irked her. She didn’t need him to step up and play the big man to the little helpless girl.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m seeing this thing through.”
Montana’s mouth went dry. Would she see Johnny again after tonight when they went their separate ways? Did she dare hope?
~*~
By noon they reached the precipice of the peak.
Johnny removed the rifle from his shoulder and dragged in a deep breath. At more than eleven thousand feet, the air so thin and clear it seemed to shimmer. Up here, he stood close enough to touch the clouds.
“There’s Durango.” Montana pointed to her left.
Following the line of her finger, he saw the small town in the distance. Even a highway, with the occasional car, and a railroad running alongside. Behind them stood the mountain range they’d just come through and the long valley they’d crossed.
From this vantage point, the scope of the landscape awed him. The last few days had been physically exhausting. Now he had a good idea why.
“Amazing view.”
“Yes.” Montana removed her wool cap and swiped her forehead with her arm. “I’ll be glad to see it from the bottom.”
Johnny took a closer look at Montana. Dark circles ringed her eyes and she looked pale and shaky.
Concern filled him. “Are you okay?”
She smiled wryly. “Never better.”
“Somehow I doubt that, Montana-girl.” Man or woman, he’d never met anyone as mentally or physically tough. To see her breaking scared him. To hide his fear, he reverted to form. “Nothing a little time in the sack won’t fix, right?”
As predicted, her eyes flashed with anger and her cheeks reddened. “Is sex all you ever think about?”
“When I’m around you, yeah.” The honesty of his response shocked him.
Her eyes widened and she opened and closed her mouth. Then she lifted her chin. “I’m sure the girls will be lining up to service you once we hit town.”
“Then let’s get to town.” He shouldered the rifle without looking at her. Johnny knew his words hurt, but she had to get him out of her system.
He had to get her out of his.
~*~
Montana stopped and stared in frustration.
Late afternoon found them crossing the railroad tracks, but blocked by the Animas River. Ice had already formed on the banks. Waist-deep and fast, the arctic water was impossible to ford.
“How do we get across it?” Johnny asked. “A little chilly for a swim.”
“Follow the train tracks until we find a bridge,” Montana said. “I’ve never ridden all the way to town. We always rode the horses across the river and were picked up on the other side by a driver with a truck and trailer.”
“When does the train run?” Johnny peered down the tracks as though he expected the historical narrow gauge to come along any moment.
“I have no idea, but I doubt they’d stop for us anyway.”
“What?” He shook his head in mock dismay. “Not stop for two dirty, scruffy, gun-wielding strangers? What’s wrong with that conductor?”
Montana chuckled. “I don’t know. Just silly, I guess.”
“Maybe we could do the western movie thing and jump aboard,” Johnny said.
Although she felt like she’d fallen into some twisted movie, Montana couldn’t see herself leaping onto a moving train like an old-time outlaw. “Only if you want to lose life or limb.”
“At this point, I’m willing to risk about anything.”
“I’m not.” Montana held out her hands and examined them. “I need my limbs and I value my life.”
“And here I was getting all pumped up.” Johnny made a muscle and kissed it.
“Save your strength, muscleman,” Montana said. “We’ve still got a long walk ahead.”
Johnny groaned. “I’m so fuckin’ sick of those words.”
“Look at the bright side. You’ll be in shape for your concert tour. You’ll be able to sing all night long…” Montana turned away, blinking hard. The events of the last few days were beginning to catch up to her—sleep deprivation, long hours of hiking, but most of all her mangled emotions had turned her into a hot mess.
Wendall Weaver would not be impressed.
He had raised his daughter to be a strong, independent woman. He’d expect her to square up and carry on.
Johnny’s hand on her shoulder upset her more. “I-I’m fine,” she said.
“Montana-girl—”
She shook off his hand. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Johnny.”
~*~
A tree branch snapped.
Johnny and Montana spun around.
Out of the trees, a slight man walked toward them, his head and face covered by a bright orange ski mask. In his hands, he held a hunting rifle pointed in their direction. “Yeah, Cowboy. Don’t lead the girl on. We all know you don’t mean a word you say.”
Stunned by the sight of someone seeming to come out of nowhere, pointing a gun at him, Johnny froze. “What the fuck?”
Montana seemed equally bowled over. Her gray eyes were wide, her mouth slightly parted.
The figure reached for his mask, keeping the barrel of the gun aimed at them. He pulled off the face cover. “Surprised?”
Montana just stared.
Johnny reeled as if he’d been sucker punched. “What the fuck, man?”
“Not who you expected?” the gunman asked.
“No,” Johnny said. “Not exactly.”
Montana looked between them in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
Johnny took a step forward, but stopped when the gun lifted a fraction. “Joel—”
“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”
“You want to explain why you’re pointing a gun at me?” Johnny fought to sound reasonable, calm.
Joel laughed. “You’ve done too many drugs, Cowboy. Your brain is fried.”
“That may be true, but it doesn’t explain why I’m standing here with my manager holding a fucking gun on me.” He glanced at Montana. “Unless I’m hallucinating?”
“You’re not.” Her face had gone white. “This is all too real.”
“It’s been you all along?” Johnny couldn’t make the pieces fit. “You’re the one who’s been chasing us?” He tightened his hold on the rifle. “Scaring Montana? Tearing up her shit?” His voice rose. “Trying to burn us alive? When I trusted you with my money, with my life? With everything?”
Joel cackled. “Your money, your career. What a joke, man. You destroyed your own reputation. I told you not to waste your time by putting out Heartbeat, but you wouldn’t listen. The great and wonderful Cowboy knows all. Well, you didn’t know so much after all, did you? Your arrogance took us all down with you. Me. The band. Teal. Every single one of us who are in this with you paid the price of your pigheadedness.”
“I did what I thought was right.” Johnny knew he’d made mistakes. He planned to fix them with Betrayed.
“Johnny—” Montana put a hand on his arm.
“Yeah, Cowboy.” Joel pointed the gun square at his chest. “Shut up. I’ve heard enough.”
“Joel?” Montana’s voice was soft, kind. “What’s this about?”
He shot her a mocking look. “Do you think it was a coincidence I sent Cowboy to the wilderness where he could easily tumble from a cliff? What I didn’t count on was you falling for the rock star. You’re as bad as the rest of them. You’re as big a slut as every other girl Cowboy’s fucked and forgotten. Just another one rode hard and put away wet…while his spurs jingle-jangle as he rides off into the sunset.”
“I’m no groupie.” Montana lifted her chin and eyed him coldly. “You don’t know anything about me, or who I have or have not slept with.”
Joel continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Fucked the football player in college until he found sweeter pussy. Now it’s Cowboy’s dick you’re sliding right up inside you. From here you look like every other tramp who screws somebody famous.”
“Shut up, Joel.” Johnny’s fist around the rifle stock tightened. He had never wanted to hurt someone so badly in his life as he did at the moment. Not even Teal or Keifer.
“Denying it?” Joel sneered. “And you. Mr. Big Dick. Did you tell her how many girls there have been before her? Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands, even?”
“Jealous?” Montana taunted.
Both men stared at her—Joel with disgust, Johnny in admiration of her bravery.
“Jealous of you and Cowboy doing the horizontal hop?” Joel curled his lip. “Hardly.”
Johnny could give a hot shit what Joel thought about his love life, but the way he was dragging Montana through the mud made him want to kick the guy in the nuts.
Instead of taking offense, Montana kept her voice kind. “Well, if you’re not upset about who Johnny or I sleep with then maybe you could explain to me what has you worked up enough to want to hurt us. What do you hope to gain?”
His wild eyes calmed a little. “I didn’t initially want to involve you, Montana. You were nice to me in college when most weren’t. I was looking forward to seeing you again.” He took a shuddering breath and his expression turned viscous. “But then you did what every other woman who comes close to Cowboy does and that’s jump in bed with him.”
“Joel,” Montana said softly, “we haven’t seen each other in years. Why would you care what happened between me and Johnny?”
He laughed loud and shrill. “You think I give a shit that you got down and dirty with Cowboy?”
“Apparently you do,” she said.
“I don’t care about who you fuck,” he screamed, waving the gun. “Stupid bitch.”
Johnny had heard enough. “Close your fucking mouth, Joel. Now.”
“Coming to the lady’s defense?” Joel laughed again. “That’s rich. You’ve never given a crap about a woman before. Not Peyton, who you ran off to Nashville. Not even your own wife—”
“Wife?” It was Johnny’s turn to laugh. “My wife didn’t know the meaning of the word. She fucked my best friend in my own god damn house in my own god damn studio—”
“Shut up!” Joel shrieked. “Just shut up! Stop talking about her like that!”
Montana held out a hand. “Take it easy. Why don’t you explain it? So that we understand. You think Johnny treated Teal badly?”
He jerked his head in a sharp nod. “Yeah.”
Johnny snorted, but let Montana take charge. How had he not seen that his manager was certifiable?
“How did Johnny do Teal wrong?” Montana didn’t look his way, instead focusing intently on Joel.
He paced back and forth in front of them. “How much time do you have?” He stopped and faced Johnny. “She loved you, Cowboy. You were her hero. When you helped make her CD, she was on top of the world. Then you stole it all.”
“She slept with Keifer.” Johnny spoke slowly as if he were explaining to a small child. “Should I have looked the other way?”
“She only did that because of the endless stream of groupies,” Joel said. “You music guys can’t keep your dick in your pants. Look at Stoney. He slept with the wrong girl backstage at some concert and made a baby he can’t even see.” He shook his head sadly. “And you. If it has a vagina you hump it.” He looked at Montana. “You think you’re special? Don’t believe it. Poor Teal. All those nights she sat home crying over you when you didn’t even care.”
Rage boiled in Johnny’s gut. He’d been faithful. Those lonely nights had been Teal’s choice. He’d asked her to come on the road with him and she’d refused. She’d claimed she wanted to stay home. Said she trusted him.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” Joel suddenly looked sad. “Who do you think comforted her all those times? Who held her
while she cried when you cheated on her time after time?” He tapped his chest. “Me. That’s right. Reliable old Joel.”
Johnny’s mouth fell open. He snapped it shut. “You fucked my wife, too?”
“Of course not!” Joel looked affronted. “Our love was too pure to cheapen it that way. But her heart and mine are linked. Forever. Teal and I are soulmates.”
“You terrorized Montana and me because my wife claims I screwed groupies during our marriage?” Johnny couldn’t wrap his mind around it. “What about Keifer? She’s fucking him now. Are you going to shoot him, too?”
“I’ll deal with Keifer in due time,” Joel said.
“If you and Teal’s love was so wonderful, why didn’t she turn to you instead of him?” Johnny couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“You drove her into Keifer’s arms,” Joel said almost robotically. “You hurt her. Not me.”
“Joel,” Montana said. “That makes no sense. I don’t know this woman, but why wouldn’t she turn to you instead of Keifer when she left Johnny?”
Johnny held his tongue. Teal hadn’t left him; he’d kicked her out. He pinned a hard stare on Joel. “Well?”
He hung his head. “I’m not a musician like you boneheads.”
“So, by killing me you’re going to vindicate your one true love and make her croon like a songbird?”
“Exactly.” Joel nodded earnestly. “When I return the CD, she’ll see how much I love her.”
“Dude, you’ve lost your mind.” Ignoring the warning look Montana shot in his direction, he continued. “First of all, Teal’s a gold digging tramp who only loves herself. Second, I never slept with groupies or anyone else when we were married. Third, even if you kill me here and now, what’s your next plan? Fly to L.A. and whack Keifer? Then what? You and Teal live happily ever after on the run like a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde?”
“Johnny—” Montana sounded far away.
He was so angry he couldn’t think straight. “Last, you’re not taking that CD anywhere. It’s been destroyed.”