Romancing the Guardians Series: Part One (Romancing the Guardians Box Set Book 1)
Page 16
Light flared under her door and she heard heavy footsteps mounting the stairs, too many to be Conn’s. The realization that the brutes wouldn’t be coming for her unless they had killed Conn struck a hammer blow to her heart. Swamped with grief, she stumbled backward, tears pouring from her eyes as his murderers approached along the hall. She listened to them open other doors until they came to hers. Pressing herself into a corner, she hugged her middle and jammed a fist against her mouth, trying to stifle her sobs.
It took only two kicks of a hard boot to smash the flimsy lock. Lara screamed as the hoodlums stormed into the room. One hit the light switch and she was confronted by her bearded assailant from the store and two of his loathsome companions.
“Hi, baby. Remember me? Not very neighborly of your boyfriend hiding you away up here,” the brute taunted. “He even snuffed out the lights, but we took care of that and taught him some manners.” He grinned and stalked toward her.
“Stay away from me!” She threw up her hands in an attempt to ward him off. He merely laughed and seized her wrists.
“Let me go!” She struggled, trying to break free.
“Oh no, me and my friends have big plans for you. Don’t we, boys.”
“You bet, Cully,” one of the others crowed. “We’re gonna have us some fun, honey gal.”
“No! You killed Conn, didn’t you, you filthy scum!” Lara spat in Cully’s face.
“Bitch!” He slapped her hard, wrenching a cry of pain from her and making her see stars. “You’ll be sorry for that,” he growled. Grabbing her braid, he yanked her toward the door.
She shrieked in agony, lost her balance on her weak leg and almost fell. One of the other men caught her arm, keeping her on her feet. The monsters dragged her into the hall and down the stairs, laughing and telling her how they planned to rape her. Certain they’d murdered Conn, she was equally certain they would also kill her in the end, and she didn’t care.
Then she remembered her vow to guard the scroll of Danu and knew she must stay alive. Somehow.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The moment her feet touched down at the foot of the stairs, Lara snarled and attempted to bite the hand grasping her braid. Cully, the bearded devil, jerked away just in time.
“No biting, slut!” he said between his teeth, yanking so hard on her hair that she couldn’t contain another scream. It felt like her scalp was being torn off. She reached up and wrapped both hands around her braid closer to the roots, trying to ease the pressure as he hauled her to the center of the room.
“Get her clothes off,” he ordered his vile cohorts. “She won’t give you a fight. I’ll make sure of that.” He jerked cruelly on Lara’s braid again, defeating her attempt to lessen the pain.
“Yes sir!” one villain shouted, running in like a hungry beast to the kill.
Lara whimpered in terror and batted at his hands as he tried to grab the waistband of her denim capris. Then the other brute charged in. Gripping the top of her cotton blouse, he ripped it open down the front, scattering buttons on the floor. She gasped, feeling cool air brush across her breasts, covered now only by a delicate lace bra. Screwing her eyes shut, she prayed for a miracle.
A thunderous roar made her eyes fly open. She screamed at sight of a huge figure filling the room’s entrance. For a split second she thought it was the ape-man. Then she realized this was no ape, it was simply a very tall man with a heavily muscled frame and long dark hair.
“What the hell?” Cully blurted. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Damn, he’s big!” the one who’d torn open her blouse whispered.
“Jesus! It’s Bigfoot!” the third man cried.
“Don’t talk stupid. There ain’t no such –”
Another roar sounded. The huge intruder stomped toward them. Two of the would-be rapists backed away but Lara’s captor raised his arm, a gun in his hand. Acting on instinct, she knocked his wrist aside with her forearm just as he fired, spoiling his aim, causing the bullet to slam into the wall under the stairs.
“Bitch! I’ll make you pay for that,” he bellowed, swinging the gun around to strike her. In his rage he forgot the behemoth charging at him. In the blink of an eye the giant was upon him, wrenching the gun from his grip and tossing it away. He screamed and suddenly freed Lara.
She stumbled out of the way as her rescuer grasped Cully’s arms, lifted him into the air and shook him like a rag doll then flung him to the floor, where he lay stunned and groaning. The other two rednecks made for the stairs, nearly knocking each other down in their hurry to escape. The big man overtook them with three enormous strides.
He caught one thug, picked him up and hurled him, screaming, at the fireplace. Hearing the man’s head slam against the stone, Lara cringed. The third man crouched at the foot of the stairs, arms covering his head, sobbing in abject fear. Snorting at the sight of him, the giant turned his attention back to the group’s leader, who had struggled to his hands and knees and was crawling away.
No! He was after his gun, Lara realized. Before he reached it, her towering avenger grasped him by his hair and jerked him to his feet, drawing pained shrieks from him. A massive arm wrapped around his neck, cutting off his cries.
“Milo, stop! Don’t kill him!” Conn shouted from somewhere behind Lara.
Crying out, she whirled to find him standing in the foyer. “You’re alive! I thought they killed you.” Bursting with joy, she raced into his arms, nearly knocking him off his feet.
He steadied himself and crushed her to his chest. “Not quite, sweetheart.”
“Thank heaven!” she choked out past the tightness in her throat. Hugging him back as hard as she could, she smothered his face with kisses and gloried in his familiar scent and strong, protective embrace.
“Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”
“No, they only frightened me half to death.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them,” he rasped in her ear. “One broke in the back door. I didn’t hear him over the gunfire. Bastard snuck up from behind and clobbered me, knocked me out.”
“It’s okay. I had help.” Pushing at his shoulders to open a small space between them, she turned in his arms to face her rescuer. She’d realized after Conn shouted the man’s name that he was the lodge’s reclusive groundskeeper. “Hello, Milo,” she said. “I’m Lara. Thank you for saving me.”
Having released his intended victim, the big man loomed over him and the other cowering attacker. Taking in the two men’s terrified expressions, Lara smiled gratefully at the groundskeeper. He nodded his lofty head and gave her a gap-toothed grin.
Conn kissed the top of her head, ran his hands down her arms and released her. Clutching her torn shirt together, she watched him step over to Milo and offer his hand. “Thanks for coming to Lara’s rescue, my friend,” he said. “I owe you big time.”
Milo accepted his hand, nearly swallowing it in his huge paw, but shook his head. “No owe,” he mouthed, silently shaping the words with his lips
“Yes I do, but we won’t argue about it. I’d better call the police.” Conn started to turn away, but Milo clapped him on his shoulder and shook his head, vehemently this time.
“I’ve got to, Milo. They need to come and pick up the trash.” Conn gestured at the guilty duo and their fallen comrade.
Milo scowled, heavy dark brows knitting above his hawkish nose. Slapping his broad chest, he made a walking motion with his fingers toward the door.
After a brief silence, Conn shrugged. “All right. I understand. Will you wait a few minutes and keep an eye on these two while I make the call?” Receiving a hesitant nod from the groundskeeper, he strode into the foyer, flipping wall switches that flooded the great room with brighter light, making Lara blink fast.
“You gonna get me some help? I’m bleeding,” a man’s voice whined from somewhere in the hall.
“I oughta let you bleed out,” Conn said, “but don’t worry. The cops will take good care of you.”
“Quit staring at me!” he snarled. “You making eyes at Cully is what started this.”
“What!” Flabbergasted, she said, “I did no such thing.”
“Liar! We all seen you eyeing him when we passed you on the road that day. This is all your fault, bitch.”
“Watch your mouth,” Conn barked, kicking the redneck’s wounded leg as he punched numbers on his phone.
The man yowled and bent over in pain. Lara might have pitied him if he hadn’t spewed a string of filthy curses.
“Shut it unless you want another one,” Conn warned, holding the phone to his ear. His warning was effective. Following a short conversation with a 9-1-1 operator, he announced, “We’re in the county’s jurisdiction. They’re sending a sheriff’s car.”
He stepped to Lara’s side and tunneled a hand under her loosened braid, comforting her with his warm touch. Scowling at her open blouse, which she struggled to hold together, he asked, “Which one did that?”
“That one.” She pointed at the man lying sprawled on the hearth. “He hit his head when Milo picked him up and threw him against the fireplace. I … I’m afraid he might be dead.”
“Wouldn’t bother me if he was,” Conn said coldly, causing Lara to stare at him in shock. Turning his head, he gazed straight into her eyes. “He put his hands on you. No man has the right to do that. Except me.” He gave her a crooked smile. “But don’t worry, he’s alive. Look at him.”
Lara did as he said and was relieved to see the man’s chest move up and down. Regardless of what he and the others had tried to do to her, she didn’t want his death on her conscience. As she watched, he groaned and sluggishly lifted one hand to his head.
Conn walked over to Milo. “Thanks again, friend. You’d better go. I’ll watch ’em.” Drawing his gun from his waistband, he pointed it at the prisoners. “And don’t worry, I won’t let on that you had anything to do with this. Neither will Lara.” He glanced at her and she responded with a nod.
“Yeah? Well, me and my pals ain’t covering for the big ape,” Cully blustered. “We’ll tell how he broke in here and damn near killed me and Jake.”
Milo growled and took a step toward him, making him shrink against the wall behind him.
Conn snorted. “You think the law will believe you, tough guy? Think they’ll take your word over mine and the lady’s after what you did, after what you tried to do to her? Not likely.”
Cully glared at him but didn’t say another word.
Turning to Conn, Milo nodded once and waved the fingers of one hand up and down in a childlike goodbye gesture, then strode across the great room to where Lara stood near the entrance. He paused in front of her. Struck by his strong musky odor, she resisted an urge to back away, ordering herself not to be so finicky. He’d quite possibly saved her life, after all.
Lara tilted her head back to meet his eyes. They were dark blue and surprisingly beautiful. He made a deep huffing sound and smiled. Grateful beyond measure for his timely intervention, she returned his smile and didn’t flinch when he reached out to gently pat her shoulder.
“Thank you,” she said.
He nodded, gave his goodbye wave and strode out, disappearing into the night. Lara stared after him for a moment then turned her attention to Conn, who stood holding his gun on Cully and the others. The man Milo had thrown against the fireplace was sitting up, holding his head. He probably had a concussion.
She walked over to Conn’s side. Spotting a dark stain on the neck of his navy t-shirt and a wet patch in his hair, she reached up to touch it lightly. When he flinched, she instantly removed her fingers. They came away red.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered, not wanting the others to overhear.
“It’s almost stopped.” He also spoke in an undertone.
“There’s a first aid kit in the kitchen. I’ll get it.”
“Un-uh.” He caught her wrist. “Not until the cops get here.”
Lara bit her lip but held her tongue, knowing he didn’t want to show any weakness in front of his three prisoners.
A few minutes later, a sheriff’s car arrived, lights flashing and siren blaring. Two officers stepped out of the car, guns drawn. Lara met them on the porch.
“I’m Deputy Sheriff Farrell, ma’am,” the older, stockier one said. “This is Deputy Newsome. We got a call saying there was a breakin out here. Did you make the call?”
“No, my friend did. He’s guarding the men who broke in,” she said, pointing at the wide open double doors. “I don’t think you’ll need your guns.”
“We’ll be the judge of that, ma’am,” he replied firmly.
“Of course. Come in. Please.” She moved aside as they marched up the steps and into the lodge.
Deputy Farrell paused to examine the broken out door window. “This how they got in?”
“Yes. One also broke in the back way.”
“Got a gunshot victim here, Jerry,” the younger, taller Deputy Newsome said, indicating the culprit sprawled in the hallway.
“So I see.”
“I’m hurt bad, fellas. I need a doctor,” the wounded man complained.
Deputy Newsome walked over to him, squatted and inspected his leg. “You’ll live,” he pronounced and began patting him down in search of weapons.
“Hey, I’ve got my rights and I –”
“Quiet! Paramedics are on the way. You’ll be attended to when they get here.”
Meanwhile, Farrell walked into the great room. Taking in the scene, he ordered, “Put the gun down, mister.” As he spoke, he brought his own firearm to bear on Conn, who sat with one hip on the arm of a padded leather chair, firearm aimed squarely at Cully.
“Putting it down, deputy,” he replied, slowly lowering his gun. He laid it on the chair seat and straightened, glancing at Farrell but not turning his back on the three dangerous rednecks.
“Did you shoot the guy in the hallway?” Farrell questioned, lowering his own weapon.
“I did. It was self-defense. I’d sent Lara – Miss Spenser – upstairs and had taken cover in the kitchen before the gang busted in. I let them know I was there and the wounded man came after me with a knife. I dropped him with a bullet in his leg.”
“Mmm. Then you corralled these three?”
“No, not right away. One of them came around back and broke in while I was busy with the others. He knocked me on the head. I was out cold for several minutes.” Touching the bloody lump on the back of his head, Conn winced. “By the time I came to they’d dragged Lara downstairs and were getting ready to assault her.”
Lara didn’t wait to hear anymore. Favoring her aching leg – her cane was up in the bedroom – she limped past Deputy Newsome and the felon he guarded, into the kitchen. She took a moment to tie the tails of her shirt together, affording her some coverage, then located the first aid kit along with a bottle of ibuprofen and stepped back into the hall. A paramedics’ truck was just pulling up out front. Figuring they would care for the shooting victim first, who glared at her balefully as she edged past him, she went about her own first aid task.
Crossing to where Conn now sat slouched on a sofa, she reached for his hand. He glanced up in surprise but didn’t protest when she shook two pills into his palm. He smiled gratefully and swallowed them while she began cleaning the knot on his head, being as gentle as she could.
Cully and his cronies were in the middle of telling a wild tale to the two deputies. “He was strong as a horse and he must have been eight feet tall.”
Deputy Newsome burst out laughing. “Sure he was. And I’m the Jolly Green Giant.”
“It’s true, I swear,” Cully insisted. “He had long scraggly hair and he was big as an ape. I bet he’s that Bigfoot dude folks are always seein’ around these parts.”
Farrell scowl
ed and cocked an eyebrow at Conn. “Did you see this apeman?”
“No. Like I said, I was out cold part of the time.”
“What about you, Miss Spenser? Are these boys telling the truth? Did some big hairy guy break in and attack them?”
“N-no. They’re the ones who broke in,” she said, applying antiseptic to Conn’s scalp, causing him to stiffen and catch his breath. She bit her lip, sorry for causing him more pain, then darted a glance at Farrell. Catching his narrow-eyed stare, she feared he would press her for more, forcing her to outright lie, but he didn’t.
“Guess they’re lying to save their own skins,” he said.
This brought angry protests from Cully and his crew, cut off by a curt order to save it for the judge from Farrell. Lara sighed in relief when he told Deputy Newsome to keep watch over the three and walked into the foyer, where the paramedics were working on the fourth man.
“I’ve seen you before,” he said loud enough for her to hear as she worked on Conn’s head. “Your name’s … let me think … Sawyer? No, Sayers.”
“Yeah, so what?” the wounded man said.
“You and your pals caused a ruckus at the Blue Oasis a while back. Broke up the place pretty good before we hauled your drunken asses off to jail. Looks like you’ll spend a lot longer behind bars this time.”
Glad to hear that, Lara finished wrapping a bandage around Conn’s head and sat down beside him, twining her fingers with his, ignoring their audience of lawbreakers and Deputy Newsome. “How’s your head? Are the pills helping?” she asked softly.
“Not yet. It takes a few minutes, but I’m okay. What about you?”
“My leg aches and I’m tired. Otherwise I’m fine.” Silently, she prayed they would soon have the lodge to themselves again. She was exhausted and Conn looked dead on his feet.
Unfortunately, Farrell was not done with them. Producing a yellow legal pad, he handed it to Lara along with a pen. “I need you to write down what happened. Talk it over between you if you want to. Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”