by Jen Talty
“Wonderful,” Tristan muttered. He stood at the top of the hill, staring down into the dark night, not even being able to see his parent’s cabin. If it were a clear night, the moon and stars would glow across the lake, framing at least the porch.
But not tonight.
“We’ve got movement,” Holes said, with one hand to his ear. “One person leaving the house.”
“Who?” Tristan continued to stare down the street. “And did your men eye everyone that went in the house?”
“We don’t know who just yet, but my men followed Rayburn to this area where he hung out in a patch of trees next to your house. They watched someone open the door for a man and a woman, who entered. Then Rayburn went in.”
“Where’d the man go who opened the door?” Tristan tried to recall everything about Rayburn and the crimes he was suspected of, which included rape and torture. Not your standard hit man. He liked to play with his victims before killing them. And that he liked to torture them slowly, watching them suffer.
“He went to a house on the next street over. I’ve got a man knocking on his door to question him,” Holes said.
“That could be someone in the Bower family. They live here year-round and some people give them their keys. My parents used to, but then started using a service.” Tristan realized how eerily calm his pulse had become in the last few moments. His mind laser focused. He also sensed Brooke’s mind was too. That had to be a good sign. “I know that house inside and out. I can get in the back door off the kitchen.”
“We’ll send in our guys. You can explain the layout,” Holes said.
Tristan shook his head. “We’ve got a better shot at saving Brooke if I go in with some of your team members as back-up.” Tristan pointed down the road. “The cabin right next to mine has a high roof. From it, you get a bird’s eye view of my family room and den. On the back side of the house, if you put a couple of snipers in the trees, you’ve got access to three of the five bedrooms.”
“Still a lot of house that isn’t covered.” Holes put his hand to his ear. “Time to roll. Put people in the trees to the west and the house to the east. Sergeant Reid will explain the rest.”
Tristan took two steps when Holes put his hand up.
“The neighbor was paid ten grand in cash to let Wendell in. Also, Wendell just got into his car.”
Tristan rested his hand on the butt of his weapon. “I want a few words with the asshole.”
“That I’m not signing off on.” Holes pointed to the SWAT van. “You work with SWAT and get in there now. Jared and I’ll talk to Wendell.”
“I can live with that.” Tristan jogged toward the SWAT team, who were already heading in different directions. Someone tossed him a wire and a bullet proof vest.
“We’re on instructions to follow your lead.”
Tristan removed his weapon from its holster. “Hold on babe, I’m coming.”
Chapter 13
Brooke sat on the sofa, hands bound in her lap, staring up into the eyes of a beast. He had to be over six-foot-four and the width of his shoulders the size of a small car. He smiled, which looked more like a sneer and not pleasant at all. Two prominent scars lined his right cheek just under his eye.
She swallowed the bile rising in her throat, forcing the sense of dread deep inside. She needed to hold onto hope. She made herself believe that she could feel Tristan close by and that he had a plan to save her from whatever vile creature Wendell had sent to kill her.
“I was paid extra not to toy with you too much.”
She had no idea what that meant, and wasn’t about to ask.
“It’s going to be hard for me, especially with such a beautiful woman as yourself.” He stepped closer, reaching toward her face.
She jerked back, feeling his sick, twisted desire to hurt people.
“I think it would be alright if I put a little cut right in that swollen cheek.” He traced it with his thumb.
She tried to turn away, pushing her head all the way into the sofa cushions. His touch sent her stomach on a roll, churning up more bile. She gagged.
“Quiet one, aren’t you?” He stepped back, lifting a box from the floor, and placed it on the coffee table. “That’s okay, baby. I’m going to make you scream for daddy.”
Overwhelming fear engulfed her body. Her pulse beat so fast she felt as though it might bust right out of her chest. Eyeing the door, she bolted up right. She had to try to run. Something hard circled her stomach, stopping her dead in her tracks. Gasping for air, she kicked and screamed as her body slammed against the sofa.
“Trying to run just gives me a hard on.”
The beast grabbed his crotch and groaned.
Her eyes went wide as he held up a large knife. Drawing his forefinger across the sharp edge, he smiled. “Your friend didn’t really care how I killed you, so long as I make this place look like a struggle went on, then dumped your body where no one could find it.”
“How much did he pay you?” She adjusted herself to a sitting position, doing her best not to hyperventilate.
“Now why would I tell you that?” He reached into his pocket and pulled a lighter. Holding the knife over the flame, he heated the metal.
“Because whatever it was, I can double it if you let me go.”
The beast laughed, tossing his back. The noise echoed across the room like a hyena.
“He’s my cousin.” Brooke thought maybe keeping the beast talking might at least slow down the process of death by hot knife long enough for Tristan to find her. “He wants me dead because he doesn’t want to have to share the family fortune.”
The beast let the flame flicker out. “As tempting as that is, you’ve seen my face.”
“So, has he.”
“Valid point, but he needs you gone and I don’t need the money.” He flicked the lighter and ran the blade through the flame as he stepped over the coffee table. “Besides, I’ll enjoying killing you so much more than that little prick.”
She scooted to the end of the sofa. “My boyfriend’s a State Trooper. You won’t get away with this.”
“Oh, but sweetheart, I already have. More than once.” He reached down and yanked her to her feet.
She tried to run again, but he held her neck, lifting her off the ground with one hand. Clutching his wrists, she kicked and squirmed, trying to breathe, but the crushing of his fingers against her neck made it impossible. The room spun in a vicious blur.
“Oh no, baby. Not yet.”
“Put the knife down and step away from the lady,” a voice that sounded like Tristan said.
Delusional. The lack of oxygen, even for a few seconds made her hallucinate. She blinked a few times, trying to gain focus. Her hands clutched the beast’s massive forearm. A sharp sting slipped across her cheek.
“I will do no such thing,” the beast said, pressing the knife into her neck, the hot metal sizzled against her skin. The smell of burning flesh filled the room like a barbeque.
A figure standing in front of her slowly came into focus.
“Tristan?” she whispered. Her knees buckled, but the beast held her up.
“This place is surrounded. If you want to walk out of this place alive, you’ll put the knife down and step away from the lady.” Tristan held a gun in both hands, pointing it at her and the Beast. His eyes didn’t seem to look at her, but she knew she consumed his thoughts.
“I’m walking out of here alive, with her.”
She let out a shrill as he pressed the knife harder, pinching her skin.
“That’s not going to happen. We’ve got a dozen snipers with orders to shot to kill.”
“You’re not going to risk me killing her,” the beast said, reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a small hand gun, pressing it at her temple.
Tristan cocked his head, drawing his lips in a tight line.
She sucked in a breath. They were going to let him walk out, using her as shield. Tears coated her eyes like a dense fog. Her feet scrambled on the
floor. The knife still burned her neck. If she moved the wrong way, or if the beast moved the wrong way, the sharp blade would tear through her jugular.
Or a bullet through her brain.
The beast took small steps backward. “You’re going to let me leave, or she dies.”
The front door clicked open. The wind howled and a few large rain pellets smacked her face. “Please, just let me go,” she whispered.
“No can do little lady.”
“I let you leave, and she dies anyway.” Tristan inched his way forward. “The only question is how badly do you want to live.”
“Going to prison isn’t living. So, if that’s how you want to play this, I’ll kill her right here right now.”
Brooke gasped, eyes wide.
Tristan stopped, quickly raising his weapon to the sky. “Boss says you get to walk.” He looked directly into her eyes. His thoughts and emotions flooding her body with the force of lightning. She swallowed her breath as the beast pulled her down the steps.
Trust me.
Not an easy thing to do in a situation like this, but she had to believe that the connection she had with Tristan was real. That her instincts about what he wanted her to do were real.
I love you, she thought, staring into his dark, warm eyes.
“You stay right there,” the Beast yelled, pointing his gun at Tristan. “Take another step and I’ll kill her.”
The beast dragged her down the stairs. The rain hit her body sideways as the wind whipped her hair in front of her face, covering her eyes. She struggled to keep her legs from completely collapsing as he continued to pull her across the lawn, Tristan disappearing from sight.
Trust me.
“Open the door.” The beast pushed her against a car door, arm still around her body, knife at her throat.
Her fingers trembled as she tried to lift door handle but failed. “It’s locked.”
“Fuck.” The beast twisted. “Reach inside my pants pocket.”
She held her hands up. “How do you think I will manage that with my hands tied?”
He dug the tip of the blade into her neck.
She bit down on her tongue to keep from screaming. The sharp pain rattled her teeth.
“You’re going to regret being snippy with me.” The pressure of the knife disappeared as he fisted her hair, yanking it back, twisting her body to the side.
A loud snap followed by a louder pop startled her, making her jump. She fell to the ground face first as she heard two more excruciating bangs that made her head feel as though a bomb had gone off inside. She tried to cover her ears, but couldn’t with the way her hands were clasped together. Knowing she was no longer being held by the beast’s thick arms, she dug her heels into the wet ground, crawling away, when two hands hoisted her to her feet.
“Let go of me!” She pounded her tied fists into a hard chest, trying to push away.
A constant ringing in her ears drowned out the voices around her. At least she thought she heard voices. She slammed her hands against whoever held her. The broken fingers in her hand throbbed as she continued to squirm, trying to break free. From the hardness of the chest she smacked, she had to be right back into the arms of the beast.
“Brooke!”
She froze as a hand pushed her hair out of her face. She blinked. Red and blue flashing lights lit up the sky. Men wearing dark suits ran across the yard yelling commands at each other.
“Look at me,” Tristan said, cupping her cheeks. “Brooke?” His gaze shifted from her eyes, to her check as he tilted her head, groaning when he glanced at her neck. “I need a medic over here.” He cut through the plastic that held her hands together.
The air burned her lungs as she heaved in harsh breaths. She turned her head and saw the beast, laying in the muddy grass.
“Is he dead?” she whispered.
“I believe so,” Tristan said. “Let’s get you someplace dry.”
“I did not sign on for this.” Heat raced up her body. She pounded the thick vest Tristan wore. “Where is Wendell?”
“In custody.” Tristan tilted his head. “It’s over.”
“Over!? I didn’t know it began. All I wanted to do was bury my grandfather and try to rebuild my life and that asshole tried to kill me.” Her hands came down hard on Tristan’s shoulders. “God only knows what he did to Michelle.”
“Michelle is fine.” Tristan curled his fingers over her wrists, but she yanked them free, groaning in pain.
“Where is he? I’m going to wring his neck.” She took two steps around Tristan before he circled his arms around her middle, stopping her.
“Let me go,” she said behind a tight jaw.
“Brooke, you need to relax.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Being held, even by Tristan, set off a rage so intense she felt no other recourse but to strike back, pounding at his chest as hard as she could. Her body so filled with fury, it’s all she could see, feel, or taste.
Tristan’s hands held her hips. “Get it out, babe,” he whispered.
His soft voice slowly bringing her back to reality.
She looked up at him as she took her hands and hit his chest once more. The vest so thick and bulky it felt like she stood a mile away. Feverishly, she tried to find how to remove it.
“You’re going to hurt yourself more than you already are,” Tristan said as he gently took her by her wrists, letting her arms drop to her sides. The sound of Velcro zipped across the night air as he removed the vest, then pulled her into his loving arms. “It’s going to be okay.” His hot breath tickled her ear. He slid his arm under her knees and lifted her against his strong body. “You’ve a very brave woman, Brooke Fowler.”
“I don’t know about that,” she whispered, nuzzling her face into his neck, letting her body relax, which brought on a guttural sob. “When will I wake up from this nightmare?”
“It’s over.” Tristan set her down in the back of an ambulance. Someone wrapped her in a blanket.
“Don’t leave me.” She reached for him and he leaned in, wrapping his arms around her.
“I’ll never leave you,” he whispered. “But right now, you need to let them check you over. You’ve got a couple of nasty cuts that need stitches, a few fingers that looked mangled, and a very large bump on the side of your head.” He kissed her temple. “And yet, you manage to still be the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“You’re full of shit,” she said softly, staring into his eyes.
“Ma’am,” a paramedic said. “We need to run an IV and get some fluids in you.”
The paramedic helped her onto the gurney. As he examined her wounds, the sharp throbbing pain of her injuries filled her body. She closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the pain.
“Tristan,” she whispered.
“Right here, babe.” His hand covered her good one. “I’ll be right here the entire way to the hospital.”
“I hate hospitals.”
“Can’t say they are my favorite place, either.” Tristan patted her hand.
“I have something to tell you.” She tilted her head, cringing at the tearing sensation in her neck.
“Not here. Not now,” he said with a smile. “Save it for when you can show me you mean it.”
Chapter 14
Brooke hadn’t expected to spend five days in the hospital, but between needing minor surgery on her hand and a concussion that decided to make her talk gibberish for twenty-four hours, the doctors deemed it necessary.
She touched the side of her neck with her good hand. She fingered the bandage that covered twelve stitches from where the knife had sliced through her skin. The burns caused by the blade being heated, now itched. Her neck looked like crinkled paper. The swelling on her cheek had gone down, but the stitches would remain for another couple of days.
A tap at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
“Brooke?” Jillian asked as she peeked her head in the door. “I’ve go
t the paperwork.”
“Come on in.” Brooke had been surprised by how quickly Jillian was able to wrap up things with the Ramsworth family, but they had wanted to keep the paternity issue out of the public eye, and with everything that was going on with Wendell’s arrest, she totally understood why. She felt bad for some members of the family, but she wanted nothing to do with them and the feeling was mutual.
Jillian rolled the food tray over the bed and placed a stack of papers on it. “This first document is the Non-disclosure agreement. They accepted all of our changes. But it’s important for you to know that you can never admit to being a blood relative, even if asked.”
“That’s not a problem.”
“You have no further claim to their assets both personal and professional.”
“I don’t want a claim to anything.”
“If you break the agreement, you owe them half of the settlement.” Jillian flipped a few pages and handed her a pen, tapping a line, awaiting her signature.
Brooke held up her left hand with a dark blue cast. “Thankfully, I’m right-handed.” She signed the document.
“This next one is your hush money. They countered back at two million and I told them that you’d take it.”
Brooke let out a long sigh. She hadn’t wanted their money, but after everything that happened, and the fact they defended Wendell, speaking publicly about his innocence in regard to her abduction and the hiring of a hit man, she decided it was better if she did take it. “What about Michelle? Did they agree to release her and her baby?”
“I’m not Michelle’s attorney, so I’m not privy to what that agreement states. All I know for sure is she’s agreed to testify against her husband if the criminal charges go to trial.”
“Will she be protected?” The biggest regret Brooke had was what had happened to Michelle and her baby during this entire ordeal.
“That’s between her and law enforcement.” Jillian flipped to the signature page. “I know that seems harsh, but the good news is not hearing from her probably means they put her in witness protection.