Breaking Hearts [Smoky Mountain Motorcycles 2] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Grae McTavish

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bo moved forward with a quick predatory grace. They’d made easy work accessing the compound. Sarah’s instructions had proved invaluable. They scaled the far wall with ease gained from years of training. Gaining easy access to the building through a small window with a broken lock, they moved on silent feet like a wraith in the night.

  The place was a maze of corridors and chambers. They could have spent hours searching. He thanked God for Sarah’s bravery. The narrow hallway they were moving down was just as the woman had described it. Rough wooden doors lined the cold gray walls like cells.

  One by one, they opened each room. The spaces were sparsely furnished, and there was evidence of recent inhabitation. It turned his stomach to think of those poor children forced to live in such filth. He’d seen this type of thing before in other parts of the world, but to see it here on American soil made his blood boil. This is what he and his fellow soldiers fought and died for. No one in a country as great as the United States should ever have to live this way. His respect for Sarah and her fellow escapees grew by the moment as he realized how brave they’d been to take their freedom. He only wished they’d been able to take Layla with them.

  Exiting the last chamber, they paused. At the far end he saw the heavy steel portal. This had to be the training room Sarah had described. Part of him prayed Layla wasn’t still there because that meant she’d been suffering for what could have been hours, but they’d checked each door as they passed. If she wasn’t there, then they were out of places to look. Unless…No! he shouted to himself. Don’t even go there. If she was dead you’d know it. She had to be alive. What was the point in living if she wasn’t.

  The hoarse scream echoed down the hall and sent a wave of pure terror straight to his core. He froze, a cold sweat breaking out all over his body and chilling him to the bone. He felt himself begin to shake and couldn’t do a damn thing to control it. The screams multiplied and reverberated through his head. He knew logically he wasn’t hearing gunfire. Sand wasn’t crunching under his boots. Bombs weren’t exploding around him, and the earth wasn’t shaking. Innocent women and children weren’t being murdered, but what his logical mind knew and panic-stricken brain heard were two very different things.

  “Focus.” The order came through the haze of the terror surging through him.

  Doc, it was Doc. They’d always had each other’s back. Doc was at his back now.

  “Bo. Focus!” The words echoed through his head, and he honed in on them like a beacon.

  Layla needs you! he silently screamed. He hadn’t been able to stop what had happened all those months ago in a part of the world he couldn’t even acknowledge being in, but by God he wasn’t going to let Layla down. He drew in a ragged breath, and then another. Layla needs you. He repeated over and over again. Layla needs you. Layla needs you. Layla needs you. Get your shit together!

  His eyes slowly met Doc’s, and he nodded. Wordlessly they began moving forward again. Just a few feet from the door a scream split the air again. Bo cringed but managed to keep his focus through sheer determination. His gun drawn, safety off, he flattened himself against the wall as Doc’s hand went to the door handle. He wasn’t surprised to find it locked, but nothing as simple as a lock would stop them. He studied the frame surrounding the door. The wood was old and starting to rot, but the door itself was solid. He pulled a small amount of C4 from the kit he always carried, and worked the putty into the groove between the lock and the door jamb. Turning to Doc, he nodded as his friend changed out the clip in his Glock. The new clip contained phosphorous rounds. On the battlefield, the chemical reaction caused the bullets to glow, but in this case they would trigger the C4’s explosion. He ducked as Doc fired, praying that Layla wasn’t too close to the room’s entrance. He’d used a minimal amount, but there was always danger from shrapnel.

  The explosion made his ears ring, but the door gave a groan, then fell in on itself. Apparently the wooden frame had been in even worse condition than he’d thought.

  Using the element of surprise to their advantage, they burst into the room, taking in the scene at a glance. Bo was certain that it was only his years of military training that kept him from completely losing it. As it was, the image of Layla hanging there bloodied and helpless was one he knew would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.

  He trained his gun on the sheriff, wanting to pull the trigger so bad it was like acid in his throat, but Layla was in between, and he didn’t want to take a chance of catching her in the cross fire. He was standing behind her, a long evil looking whip in his hand. The tip was wet with what looked suspiciously like blood. Bo felt his finger twitch. He was a good shot. He could take the son of a bitch out. It would be so easy and the world would be a much better place with him gone.

  The man from the hospital, Ukaria, was standing in front of her, a nasty Taser in his hands. His lecherous grin disappeared as they entered the room. Doc was on the little man in an instant, sending the Taser flying across the room, where it landed with a harmless clatter. The man squealed in fear.

  The sheriff moved surprisingly quick for a man of his age. Before anyone realized his intentions, he was behind Layla. His service revolver coming up to press to the side of her sagging head. The movement must have roused her. She slowly lifted her head, her glazed eyes meeting Bo’s. She seemed to reach through the pain and recognize him. She sobbed, and her eyes widened and a look of utter mortification crossed her face. She dropped her head again, and the look of defeat ripped at his heart. His finger twitched again, wanting to pull the trigger, but he wasn’t nearly as good a shot with his right hand. If he still had full use of his left, he’d have it no question, but his mangled appendage would never work like that again. He had to use his head, try and talk the fucker into letting down his guard. Talking had never been his strength. They’d always left the talking to Romeo. Romeo was the smooth one. He and Doc were the muscle, but Layla’s life depended on him.

  “Just step back,” Bo ordered, his voice deceptively calm. “You have to know that the only way you’re leaving here alive is to let her go.”

  “No, Mr. Lawson, you drop your gun, or I’ll put a bullet through your little whore’s brain.”

  Doc didn’t miss a beat. In the span of less than a second he had his Glock to the temple of the sheriff’s son. “I don’t think so. You let the lady go,” he barked, pressing the gun in for effect.

  “Lady! She’s not a lady. Look at her. She’s just like all women. They are all whores. They use their beautiful bodies to seduce and beguile us poor men! Look at her vanity! Look at how she adorns herself with jewelry. She’s corrupted so many men. I even caught my son watching her and playing with himself, the little pervert.”

  Bo wanted to rip the man’s tongue out, but that wouldn’t help Layla. She needed his brains, not his brawn. “You bastard. She’s got more class in her little pinky than in your entire corrupt body. If your perverted little turd of a son can’t control himself, that’s not her fault. He better be glad I don’t kick his ass for looking at my woman.” Bo hissed, taking a step closer. The longer the man talked, the longer he had to disarm him, and if he could turn the man’s attention from Layla, then all the better.

  “No! You freeze right there! I ain’t going to jail! You know what they do to law enforcement in jail? Besides it’s not like she doesn’t deserve it. They all deserve it.”

  “Pa?” the boy whined. He was beginning to shake in front of Doc. “Come on Pa, I don’t think he’s kidding.”

  “No I’m not,” Doc confirmed with a vicious smile and an evil laugh. Bo had seen Doc play the bad guy on more than one occasion and wasn’t disappointed at his friend’s threatening stance. “It’s been months since I’ve killed anyone. I’m getting a little antsy.” Doc cocked the gun for added effect.

  “You should listen. Hell, I haven’t even taken him hunting cause I’ve been too busy dealing with your shit. Chances are, he’ll shoot the boy regardles
s. Personally I think it’s a little sick how much he enjoys it, but heck, to each his own right. Way I figure it, about the only chance either of you sons-a-bitches got is letting the lady go,” Bo taunted.

  “See, Pa!” They might have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so dire. The man was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, and a suspicious wet spot was forming on the front of his pants starting to run down is leg. “Please. I don’t want to die.”

  The man’s father actually snorted. “What do I care? The boy hasn’t been nothing but trouble since his ma disappeared,” the sheriff snarled, but his eyes began to take on a crazed look.

  “Pa!” his son sobbed as he cowered in front of Doc’s menacing frame. Snot began to dribble from his nose, and his bottom lip was quivering.

  “Shut up, you weakling! I’m so sick of your constant whining. You ain’t done nothing but whine for years. I should have killed you when I killed your lying, cheating mama.”

  “Wh–what?” his son asked, staring at his father in disbelief. “You said she left. Said she found another man and ran away.”

  “She was going to. That’s what whores do. I caught her with the bastard. They were planning on leaving and taking you with them. I couldn’t let them do that! You might not be much, but you’re my boy. Hell, she might have been a whore, but she was my whore. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “Pa, how could you do that? You made me think she hated me.”

  “Oh shut up. I’m sick to death of your whining,” the sheriff shouted, and then in a move that surprised everyone, he aimed and fired on his own son, hitting him in the knee. The boy dropped like a rock, howling in agony. His hands went to his leg as blood spurted from the wound.

  It was all the time Bo needed though. Moving on pure instinct, he fired. A neat hole appeared between the sheriff’s shocked eyes. He was dead before he hit the floor.

  Bo and Doc moved quickly, ignoring the writhing man on the floor completely. Doc yanked out his phone and called for an ambulance, while Bo moved to free Layla. She was covered in bruises and welts. Two vicious red slices covered her backside from the sheriff’s whip, and Bo wanted to bring the man back to life just so he could kill him again when he saw the angry wounds.

  She whimpered when he loosened the bindings around her ankles, and screamed when he freed her arms. He realized after hours of being hung in that way, the movement must be agony to her poor joints. He remembered how graceful she’d been dancing for him. He hoped no permanent damage had been done. Layla was beauty personified when she danced. To lose that would kill her.

  “Oh Layla, baby, I’m so sorry. I should have gotten here sooner. Please forgive me.” He cradled her carefully and wanted to howl at the injustice she’d suffered. His sweet Layla just wanted to bring joy and happiness to the world. She didn’t deserve this.

  Her eyes slowly opened, and she managed to focus on him. She smiled weakly through her bloodied and cracked lips. “You came,” she mumbled almost in wonder.

  “Did you ever doubt it? You’re my everything.” He lightly stroked her sweat-soaked hair out of her eyes.

  “No, I never doubted you. Just myself. I didn’t know if I was strong enough to hold on much longer. I tried. Gloria told me to hang on for you, and I did.” Her voice wasn’t much more than a croak, and he could see the angry bruises around her neck that looked suspiciously like fingerprints.

  “You did fine, baby. You were so very strong. You’re so brave. I love you so much,” he soothed.

  He looked up as Doc moved beside them. The big man had taken off his shirt and knelt to carefully lay it across her nude form. “The ambulance will be here soon, just hang tight a little longer, okay, sweet lady.” Bo was surprised to see his usual stony-faced friend shaking.

  She managed a nod before her eyes fluttered closed and she sank into oblivion.

  “Layla!” Bo cried, gently shaking her.

  “No Bo, it’s probably better this way,” Doc said softly. “Let her sleep. She’s been through enough.”

  Bo nodded, his eyes returning to his lady. The rest of the world could have blown up around him and he wouldn’t have noticed. The man was laying on the floor dead and she was safe and alive.

  The others filed into the room, and eventually the paramedics. Doc had to order him to step back and let them do their job. As he watched them carefully tend her, he swore, he’d never let her go again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Layla came to awareness slowly. Confusion filled her for several seconds before memories of her last conscious moments came back to her. She sat bolt upright and screamed in terror. In an instant Bo was there.

  “Easy, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re safe. I swear, they will never hurt you again.”

  “W–where am I?” she croaked, her throat was raw. Her voice was weak, and every part of her hurt.

  “Shhh, Sweetheart, you’re at the hospital. Rest your voice. You were very lucky he didn’t actually crush your windpipe, but the doctor said you were to keep your talking to a minimum. You have been out for nearly thirty-six hours.” His arms slid around her gently, as if unsure of her response.

  Looking around, she took in the antiseptic surroundings, she shivered and let herself sink into the safety of his arms. Resting her head on his shoulder, she inhaled deeply, taking in the strong spicy smell that was uniquely his. When the sheriff had her, she’d thought she never feel the warmth of his embrace again. She would never take this simple pleasure for granted again.

  “Is he really dead?” she questioned, knowing he would always live in her nightmares.

  “Yes, baby. He will never hurt you or anyone again.”

  “I’m glad. I know it’s probably wrong, but I’m glad. He was an evil man. Wh–what about the other man, his son?”

  “He’s being held under armed guard in another part of the hospital. Don’t worry. I have the guys standing guard outside your room as well. The state police have been called in to straighten things out. Gabe and Danny have a friend, one of the deputies that used to work for the sheriff. He’s retired now, but he came in to help as well. The town council voted Doc in as temporary sheriff in the meantime.”

  “Doc?” She actually smiled a little at the thought of big bad Doc being a small town sheriff.

  “Yeah I know, but he was an SP before he became a SEAL. That’s basically an MP for the Navy. It helped that Smokey recommended him since he’s on the town council.” He gently squeezed her and kissed the top of her head. “But for now, you need to rest. I’m going to go get the doctor and let him know you’re awake. Gideon insisted on personally taking your case.”

  “Oh God.” She hung her head in embarrassment.

  “No!” he ground out, his hands coming up to cup her face. “You are not to feel embarrassed about any of this. He was the one who was wrong.”

  “I guess you’re right.” She sighed, but with little conviction. Maybe she had brought this on herself.

  “Layla,” he said, his voice turning firm. “You will listen to me on this, do you understand me?”

  She knew there was no point in arguing and was really too tired to anyway. She just wanted to go back to sleep and forget, so she nodded. “I know you’re right Bo.” She forced a weak smile to her lips. “Could you go get the doctor and tell him I’m hurting? See if they can give me something?”

  “Of course, sweetheart. Anything for you. Just rest. I’ll be right back. Don’t worry.”

  As he left she settled back into the bed and pulled the cover up to her chin. Closing her eyes, she was relieved to feel herself slipping away.

  * * * *

  Bo stared down at the sleeping form of the woman he loved. They had been home from the hospital for over three weeks, and she did little but sleep. He gently kissed her forehead before leaving their bedroom and making his way downstairs. It was their house now. She’d meekly agreed when he’d insisted she move her remaining things in. She’d also willingly agreed to let Tiffany and Mariah take over her Zum
ba classes. Her grandmother had taken over the yoga classes, since she was the one who’d first introduced Layla to yoga in the first place. She’d refused to discuss resuming the pole dancing classes.

  Her mother and stepfather had come to visit for several days. Her mother completely furious that her daughter had kept such a horrible secret from her. Layla had merely sat there while her mother railed at her, and then allowed her mother to hold her and cry. Layla herself hadn’t shed a tear. She rarely showed any emotion, only coming out of her shell when Danny and Gabe brought their infant son by to visit. She held little Noah Cavanaugh close, nuzzling the soft dark fuzz on the top of his little head. It was the only time he really saw anything from her.

  She accepted his gentle lovemaking, but he knew despite her claims to the contrary, she didn’t reach the heights of passion she once had.

  He was at his wits’ end. He didn’t know how to deal with a meek, passive Layla. She’d always been so full of life, so completely fearless. She was a fighter who’d given up fighting.

  Needing to burn off some steam, he changed into a pair of jogging pants and an old worn T-shirt with Navy fading from the front. In his basement he set up his sparring dummy and began to stretch.

  * * * *

  Thrashing, Layla came awake with a start. Drawing in deep gulps of air, she shoved her fist into her mouth to try and stifle the sobs that she knew were coming. She couldn’t let Bo hear her. He was already so worried. She needed to find a way to get her shit together. Forcing herself to her feet, she made her way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She stared at herself in the mirror, hating the haunted expression she saw staring back at her.

  Hearing the door behind her open, she turned expecting to see Bo, but was surprised to see Willa standing there. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the pretty redhead said with a gentle smile. “We heard Bo downstairs beating something, so we figured we’d come up and visit you.”