Montana Heat: Escape to You

by Jennifer Ryan

  Ashley asked the obvious question. “What if the sheriff is working with Brice?”

  “He seemed genuine and appears to be doing what I’d expect on a case, but I will operate under the assumption that we can’t trust him. If Brice comes after Adam, we’ll know it’s because of the sheriff.”

  Ashley pressed her lips together, but nodded, knowing they had few choices right now. “It’ll be tricky to keep Adam’s name out of things. Brice will go to the press to try to push back on me.” Ashley held Adam to her side.

  “He’s already doing it with the sheriff’s office. He’s filed his report. They’re questioning him about your kidnapping. This is going to start moving really fast now.”

  “Then we better get moving.” Ashley leaned down and kissed Adam’s cheek. “Be good. Eat lots. I want to see you grow an inch by the time I see you next. Which will be very soon.”

  “Promise?” Adam’s huge round eyes filled with tears.

  “Yes. I swear.” Ashley hugged him close and stared up at Caden. “Keep him safe.”

  “I will. Mia will fill him full of sweets,” Caden added to reassure Adam that although things seemed dire, he’d be spoiled and taken care of well.

  Adam ran over to Beck and wrapped his arms around Beck’s leg. Beck picked him up and held him close. He turned and whispered into Adam’s ear, “I will keep her safe for you. We’ll be together again real soon.” Beck squeezed Adam tight again, his heart already missing the boy that wasn’t his but felt like it.

  He handed Adam off to Mia and gave Caden a look that said everything. Be safe. Be smart. We got this. Just like old times. Beck was back in the game. Though the game may be different, it still came down to truth and lies, justice, life and death.

  Mia and Ashley took Adam and his things out to Caden’s truck.

  Beck handed Caden back his gun. “You might need this.”

  “I hope I don’t. You know that by doing this you’ll never go undercover again. Your face will be known not only in this state but across the country. Hell, everyone in the world is about to know who you are.”

  “I know.”

  “You’ll give it all up for her.”

  “I gave it up after what happened to you and Mia—I was just letting it settle. But you already knew that.”

  “I did, but I wanted to know it really is your choice.”

  Beck nodded that it was the choice he made. He needed to make it to save what was left of his soul. “For her”—he nodded out the door at the beautiful woman fawning over Adam—“I’d lay down my life.”

  “You hardly know her.”

  “What if I said that to you the day after that bastard took you and Mia and held a gun to her head? What would you say?”

  Caden scrunched his mouth, then admitted, “That the only thing that matters is being with her.”

  “She matters.” That’s as close as he’d come to talking about his feelings. Where Ashley was concerned, he had no words to adequately describe how she made him feel, or how important she was to him.

  “Have you warned her about Guzman and the very real threat he’ll be to her? Is she willing to face that with you and possibly be put in harm’s way again the way Mia has been not once, but twice?”

  “She knows. Maybe I don’t deserve her trust, but I’m going to work damn hard to earn it and keep her safe.”

  Caden nodded, understanding that while Beck didn’t like putting Ashley in more danger, she’d accepted it and him—the same way Mia had with Caden.

  “She and Mia get along. Wait until Alina finds out you’re in love with Ashley Swan.”

  Beck didn’t confirm or deny. “She won’t believe you.”

  “Only because we can’t believe any woman would want your sorry ass,” Caden teased.

  “I hope she does. After all she’s been through . . .”

  “She looks at you like she wants you. It’s muddled with all the pain and trauma, but those will fade with time and allow her to feel happy again. She trusts you. That’s a good place to start.” Caden clamped his hand on Beck’s shoulder and squeezed. “Take it slow. Keep in touch.”

  Beck grabbed Ashley’s coat and walked out the door behind Caden. The goodbyes went fast and Caden drove away with Adam and Mia. Ashley pulled her jacket on and stared at the back end of Caden’s truck until it disappeared around the bend in the driveway.

  “You’ll see him again,” Beck assured her because she looked like she was about to face a firing squad.

  “I will see him again. He’s going to be mine. If he has to grow up without his mother, I’ll make sure he knows he’s loved the rest of his life.”

  “Brice said she was an addict and liked to sleep around.”

  Ashley shook her head before he even finished his sentence. “I’ve seen people strung out on drugs and thinking no one notices. It’s rampant in Hollywood. She wasn’t like that. As for sleeping around, she wouldn’t have jeopardized her ticket to Easy Street and a place like Brice’s ranch for her son to grow up in by screwing other men. Brice wouldn’t put up with that.”

  “No, he wants to be a woman’s everything and thinks he is.” Beck stared down the driveway, thinking about Adam. “Do you know what happened to her?”

  “No. I didn’t see anything, but I know he killed her. She wouldn’t leave Adam.”

  Beck didn’t think so either.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Brice resented Sergeant Foster insisting he come down to the police station to not only file his kidnapping charges against Ashley, but to answer questions about her charges against him. He needed to discredit Ashley before this spun out of his control. He should have known she’d betray him. After all he gave her, everything he did to transform her into her true self, she slapped him in the face with these lies.

  This would go his way. He’d make sure of it once he spoke to the sheriff.

  Brice didn’t open the door when Darren parked the car outside the sheriff’s department and Sergeant Foster waited for him at the curb. “Don’t come in. Stay close in case I need you. My lawyer will be here soon. Until then, see what you can find out. If they want to question me, that means Ashley is either here or close. I want to know where she is.”

  “I’ll start making calls. If she’s going public, my sources will know when and where.”

  “She can’t speak to the press.”

  “It’s the cops you need to worry about.” Darren nodded toward the officer waiting for him.

  Brice kept his features neutral, but he wanted to growl and hit something.

  Brice stepped out of the car, trying to pull his thoughts together and not slip on the icy road as he stepped up and over the piled snow. No way she got the better of him. He hated to expose himself more and use the information he’d gathered to force others to get him out of this mess. But he’d do whatever he had to do to get Aurora back.

  The sheriff was a worry. The man had a conscience. This could go either way. Brice didn’t like walking in not knowing the outcome.

  Thankfully very few people were on the street or in the sheriff’s office. The cold and snow kept the town nearly deserted and people home.

  Sergeant Foster escorted him past three officers sitting in their cubicles in the open room, past several offices, only one occupied by another officer, to a conference room with a long table, six chairs, a coffeemaker and paper cups on a cart in the corner, and a bank of windows overlooking the street out front, the blinds open and layered with dust. Brice hated the stares. He was used to his celebrity, but didn’t like people scrutinizing him so closely. He liked his privacy.

  “Take a seat, Mr. Mooney.”

  Brice did so, playing Mr. Congeniality. “I can’t wait to get Adam back. Where is he?”

  “In protective custody.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. The sheriff is the only one with that information.”

  Annoyance narrowed Brice’s gaze. “Are you keeping him from me?”

  “Unti
l we clear up a few matters.”

  Brice raised an eyebrow. “I assume you’ve called the judge who signed the guardianship papers.”

  “We did. They’re legit, but we have questions about Ashley Swan. How did she take Adam?”

  “She snuck him out of the house while I was downstairs in a business meeting with my assistant, Darren.”

  “So you’ve said, but how did she come to be at your home?”

  “She’s been living with me for the past year.”

  Sergeant Foster’s eyes narrowed. “What is the nature of your relationship with Miss Swan?”

  “We were friends at first, but now we’re more.”

  The sergeant stood over him and studied him. “Is she your girlfriend?”

  “She’s more than just that.”

  “She claims you held her against her will.”

  “Lies.” Brice leaned in. “I want to see Adam.”

  “He’s not here.”

  “When will I get him back?”

  “That’s undetermined at this time. Let’s get back to Miss Swan.”

  “I hate to see her in trouble for her impulsive actions, but she can’t just take Adam.”

  The sergeant tilted his head. “Why would she take him?”

  “To hurt me, of course.” After all they shared, he truly couldn’t believe she’d do this to him.

  “Why would she want to do that?”

  He didn’t answer, keeping his options open for how he wanted to play this out. “Is Adam okay? He must be frightened. Has he eaten? Where did he sleep? Was he out in the cold long?”

  “Mr. Mooney, I assure you he’s fine.”

  “How do you know? Have you seen him?”

  Sergeant Foster shook his head. “I know the man he was with and he took good care of him.”

  Well, that was nice of the sergeant to let Brice know.

  Sheriff Willis walked in, his gaze locked on Brice. “Give us a minute, Sergeant.”

  Sergeant Foster’s gaze bounced from Brice to the sheriff and back again. His eyes filled with anger and suspicion, but he left the room and closed the door behind him.

  “Shut this kidnapping business down,” Brice ordered the sheriff.

  “Which kidnapping? Adam’s? Or Ashley’s?”

  “Give me back Adam. Tell everyone Ashley and I had a fight, she took the boy, and this is nothing more than a domestic dispute.”

  “I don’t believe that,” the sheriff stated.

  “It doesn’t matter what you believe or can prove. I’ve got you by the balls. Do what I want, or I’ll trash your career and your life.”

  The sheriff pinned him with his sharp gaze. “Go ahead.”

  Brice shook his head in disbelief the sheriff would dare go against him.

  “I wasn’t the only one at that party. There are people in your pocket higher up than me. I’m sure you’ll use them to get what you want, but I won’t be the one who helps you. What you have is circumstantial at best, and it probably will destroy my life and career, but I’d rather that than allow you to hurt that boy and woman again.”

  Frustrated by the sheriff’s nonchalant attitude and defiance, Brice slammed his hands on the table. “I want Ashley and Adam back. Now.”

  “I won’t help you. In fact, Sergeant Foster will handle the case. I will keep my hands clean and out of it so the case sticks no matter what you do to me. If I was you, I’d shut up and do exactly what your lawyer tells you to do when he gets here. Ashley is at the hospital right now. You can’t explain away her injuries. You will be charged with her kidnapping and torture.”

  “My lawyer will tear your case apart. She’s mine. This is nothing more than a domestic dispute, where my live-in girlfriend kidnapped Adam to get back at me after a fight.”

  The sheriff shook his head, his eyes filled with recriminations. “You’re the only one who believes that. Once people see what I’ve been told you did to her, you won’t convince anyone else that bullshit is true. Anyone who backs you up on that story will look like a damn fool.”

  Brice couldn’t believe this man would ruin his whole life over this. He didn’t need the sheriff. He had people with more power who would make the sheriff do what he wanted. If they didn’t, he had a way out. But the longer he sat there, the more he felt the walls closing in and his freedom slipping away.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ashley sat beside Beck in the truck, both of them quiet after he’d finished his call with Sergeant Foster.

  “He’s in custody.” She really couldn’t believe it.

  “They haven’t charged him yet. He refuses to speak without his lawyer about anything other than having you arrested for kidnapping.”

  “Are they going to do that?”

  “You didn’t kidnap him. You rescued him. The cops know that—now they need to prove it. Sergeant Foster has the statement you started on my laptop. He’s got the pictures, including the one you made me send to your mother.” Beck’s mouth drew back in a tight line. He’d hated doing that for her. “She should get an Oscar for that interview she gave about your chilling phone call, telling them how scared you were, how broken you sounded.”

  “Beck, I know you don’t like this part.”

  “I hate it, Ashley. You shouldn’t have to do this to get justice.”

  “The hardest thing about being a celebrity is the moment you realize that, although you still feel like everyone else, no one thinks you’re like everyone else. Brice will use that to his advantage. No one wants to believe the guy who cracked jokes and played with celebrities on his show is a monster. He’s the guy who got to hang out with Matt Damon, Chris Hemsworth—”

  “And you. I get it. People related to him because Brice felt like a regular guy who got to rub elbows with the elite.”

  “I’m not part of the elite,” Ashley scoffed.

  “The public thinks you are. I think you’re exceptional.”

  “Beck.” She stared at him.

  He reached over and softly brushed her cheek. “He won’t get away with it. You’ll have your exam, X-rays, and give the rest of your statement at the hospital. They’ll arrest and charge Brice right there at the station. He’s not going anywhere.”

  “I can’t believe it was that easy.”

  Beck stopped at a red light a block from the hospital and stared out the windshield at all the white news vans with their satellite dishes.

  “You can still back out. I wouldn’t blame you.” Ashley’s stomach soured just thinking about walking through that crowd of reporters, the flashes going off in her face, all of them staring and judging and pitying her.

  Beck’s hand settled over hers on the seat between them. His warm hand engulfed hers and squeezed. “I won’t let you do this alone.”

  Ashley swallowed back the bile in her throat and looked Beck in the eye, speaking her heart. “I’m not sure I can do this without you.”

  “Yes, you could. But you don’t have to. Not anymore.”

  Drawn in by his sweet sincerity and the promise that he’d be by her side, she leaned across the seat and kissed him softly, lingering over the soft, sweet kiss. She poured everything she couldn’t find the words to say into the press of her lips to his. “Thank you.”

  Beck’s lips drew into a tight line. “Don’t thank me for putting you through this.”

  “This is necessary and not your fault. It’s going to suck, but with you beside me, I’ll get through it.”

  He leaned in and kissed her again. They lost themselves in the quiet moment, stopping only when the car behind them honked to get them to go through the green light.

  She sat back in her seat, took his hand, and squeezed. “Whatever happens next, please don’t leave my side.”

  He held on tighter. “Never.”

  She released him, raked her fingers into her long hair, and messed it up. “As ridiculous as this may seem, we need to act this out just like we planned.” Which meant she needed to look the way she felt when she woke up terrified,
dazed, and bedraggled in Beck’s bed.

  “I don’t think we need all the dramatics. The facts are enough to get him arrested, charged, and locked up for life.”

  “That’s what you need for court—we need this for the court of public opinion. I don’t like it any more than you do, but if he’s going to turn the tables on me, I’m going to make sure no one believes him.”

  “They won’t. I read what you wrote in that report. Your words, the account of what happened to you was chilling and you didn’t even finish it. What you went through, Ashley . . .”

  The despair and anger in his voice, for her, touched her deeply and told her how much he truly cared. Not just because it was his job to protect the innocent, but because he cared about her.

  “It’s over, Beck. I’ll never let him hurt me again.”

  “Except that because of him, you have to do this.” Beck slowly drove through the throng of photographers up the driveway to the emergency room doors. Flashes went off incessantly, blinding them. After spending so much time in the dark, her eyes still ached in the bright lights.

  She curled in on herself as much as she could without making her ribs scream with pain. Actually, they were getting better. Everything seemed better since she ended up at Beck’s place. She put her hand over her eyes and tried to hide, not wanting to give the photographers too good a picture. They’d get one, but she didn’t have to make it easy. She didn’t want it to appear obvious she’d set this all up even if they understood the game as well as she did.

  Beck sighed, not wanting to go through with this at all. “Here we go.” He got out of the truck, slammed the door, and pushed his way past all the reporters and photographers shouting questions. He came to her side of the truck, opened the door, scooped her into his strong arms, and pulled her out of the truck. Like Kevin Costner carrying Whitney Houston in The Bodyguard, he held her limp in his arms, her hair a mass of tangles, her face buried in his neck, right up the path. People crowded in around them with microphones held out. Their overlapping voices and questions a roar in her ears.