Chasing a Dream

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Chasing a Dream Page 18

by Beth Cornelison


  She whirled around. “Justin, are you crazy?”

  Shoving him back in the closet, she followed him inside. Huddled together in the dark, among the coats and umbrellas, she curled her fingers into his shirt. “Randall knows about you, Justin. He’s already ordered a hit on you. If he found you here—”

  “Then we’ll leave now. Together. All we have to do is get by the goon with the gun and—”

  “How did you know he had a gun?” she whispered.

  “I watched him through the slats in the door. He’s big and he’s armed, but we’ve got to try to outrun him.”

  She shook her head. “Even if we could outrun him, we couldn’t outrun a bullet.”

  “What about a car?” Justin smoothed her hair away from her face.

  She trembled at his touch. Oh, God, how she’d missed his tender touch!

  “Only Randall has a car now. He’s not here . . . yet.”

  “Yeah, I heard. He’s coming.” Justin rested his forehead against hers. “Do you have any idea how much I missed you?”

  Tess’s heart swelled. “You’re here. That says everything.”

  He captured her chin and angled her face to kiss her. She melted against him, putting her arms around his neck and holding fast to him as if her life depended on it. In a sense, it did, and that sobering thought forced her to lever away from him.

  “Stay in here. No matter what happens to me.” When Justin tensed, she soothed him with a gentle hand in his hair. “I’ll be okay as long as you don’t let anyone know you’re here. We need time to plan our escape. We can’t do something stupid that will get us both killed.”

  “Tess, I can’t just sit in here while he—”

  “You have to, Justin. It’s too important. He. Will. Kill. You.” “He’ll kill us both if he knows you’re here. Promise me you’ll stay hidden, Justin. Promise me! No matter what happens!”

  Silently, Justin stared into her eyes with a gaze that blazed with defiance, with affection, with frustration and anger. But he whispered, “All right, Tess. I promise. But only because I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger.” Knowing Henry would be back soon, she gave Justin one more quick kiss. Then she hurried out of the closet to do battle for their lives.

  ***

  “Like hell I’ll stay here,” Justin muttered under his breath as he peered out through the slats of the louvered door to watch Tess confront the big ape with the gun. He’d be prudent, sure. But there was no way in hell he’d sit back and allow Randall to hurt her without raising a finger to defend her.

  That’s what he’d done for Rebecca. Nothing. Well, never again. He’d made his sister a promise. He’d made God a promise, and the Lord in his infinite wisdom had seen fit to give him a second chance. He had no intention of letting another abusive husband take someone he cared about away from him. Sliding quietly to the floor, he watched the drama outside the closet unfold.

  The armed henchman returned and punched the security code into the panel by the door.

  “Did you see him?” Tess asked.

  “No, not outside. But I haven’t searched the house yet.”

  Justin’s pulse quickened. He noticed the stiffening of Tess’s posture, but had the goon?

  “Go ahead.” Her voice sounded strong and sure, and Justin admired her exterior calm, her bravery.

  The man named Henry turned for the living room and scanned the area. Then, after checking behind the front window curtains, he began searching behind closed doors at the other end of the house. Tess stayed near the passage between the foyer and living room like a sentry guarding the closet. What would she do if Randall or his thug tried to look there?

  A pang of regret for the jeopardy his presence put Tess in plucked Justin’s conscience, but he pushed it aside. She’d be in far more danger if he weren’t there to protect her.

  His thoughts flickered to the circle of bruises around her throat, and a fire blazed in his gut.

  Apparently Randall had already tried to kill her. Justin sent up a quick prayer of thanks that the man hadn’t succeeded.

  A door at the back of the house slammed, and a voice boomed from somewhere beyond the living room—a voice that brought Tess to rigid attention.

  “Tess! Where are you?”

  She cast a quick, panicked glance at the closet door then wiped her palms on the seat of her linen pants. “In the living room, Randall.”

  Justin’s blood simmered with hatred for the man who came into view. Randall was tall and fit-looking, his brown hair graying at the temples. He had a chiseled, distinguished-looking face that was hard with anger and exuded arrogance. Justin’s fist itched to smash the man’s smug face then and there. But he waited. He bided his time. Timing could prove essential, especially since Randall and his armed sidekick had Justin out-manned and out-gunned.

  ***

  “What’s been going on here?” Randall asked as Henry walked into the living room, his gun still drawn. “Did she try to run?” “She claims there was a salesman at the door. I checked outside and didn’t see anyone. I’m searching the house now.” Henry and Randall turned mutually distrustful glares on Tess.

  Her knees trembled. “I forgot about the alarm. I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

  “Look upstairs,” Randall ordered, and Henry strode past Tess and the front closet to search the bedrooms.

  Randall’s eyes narrowed to slits, and she took an instinctive step back, shrinking from the threat in his glare.

  “Don’t think I’ve forgotten your betrayal, Tess. You escaped with your skin yesterday, but any value you had to me as a wife vanished the minute I discovered you’d been giving it away to another man.” He walked slowly toward her. “You’re expendable now. Like Angela was.”

  She straightened her spine and lifted her chin, despite the quiver in her stomach. Justin was here. That knowledge gave her the strength, the courage to meet Randall’s menacing eyes.

  Don’t let him win. Stand up to him.

  His expression became a sickening leer. “However, when you breached the security system, you interrupted a meeting I was in with a representative from a promising jewel of a company I think I’ll buy.”

  He stopped scant inches from Tess, but she stood her ground.

  “This representative happened to be a woman with a magnificent body and a tendency to lean forward, giving me glimpses of her wares as we studied the paperwork. I’d have loved the opportunity to nail her. But since I’m here now, perhaps I should take advantage of my marital rights.”

  He gave her a suspicious glare before his hand snaked out and caught her by the arm. He hauled her forward and snarled in her face. “Unfaithful whores like you are only good for one thing, Tess.”

  With a yank, he dragged her toward the sofa while she wiggled to free herself from his grip.

  “No!” she cried, frightened of what Randall planned to do and more terrified of what Justin might do, despite his promise to stay hidden.

  “What?” Randall tipped his head in disbelief, his muscles taut. “What did you say?”

  Tess mustered all her courage, all the hatred she felt for Randall, and leveled a challenging glare at him. “You heard me. I said no!”

  An evil grin spread across Randall’s face, and he delivered a slap across Tess’s cheek that made her ears ring. “Now what do you have to say, slut?”

  The closet door banged the wall as it flew open.

  “I’d say someone needs to teach you respect for women, asshole,” Justin growled.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Justin, no!” Tess shrieked.

  Randall released her and turned to face Justin with the misleading calm Tess knew so well.

  “You must be the bastard who’s been screwing my wife,” Randall said, bracing his hands on his hips.

  “And you’re the prick who’s been terrorizing her for years.” Justin strode forward, his shoulders back. A fire blazed in his eyes that Tess had never before seen in their blue depths. “Didn’t y
our mother teach you better than to hit a woman, Sinclair?”

  “My mother was a bigger coward than Tess. All I learned from her was that I had to look out for myself. My father taught me how to keep a woman’s respect.” Randall’s jaw tightened as he glared at Justin.

  Tess shivered as the two men squared off.

  “Intimidation is not the same as respect, you sonofabitch.” Justin balled his hands into fists. “If you want to hit someone, hit me. But if you so much as lay a finger on Tess again, I’ll tear you apart.”

  Tension coiled in Tess’s chest, and her knees shook. She had to do something to stop the storm that brewed. But what?

  Randall smirked. “How very noble of you, Mr. . . . ?” He paused in a manner that awaited a response.

  “Boyd. Justin Boyd.” Justin stepped forward, his posture as rigid and uncompromising as the tone of his voice.

  Randall’s face reflected a moment of surprise then understanding and recognition. “Ah, yes. Of course. I’m familiar with the Boyd family of Wellerton. Rebecca would be your . . . what? Sister?”

  Justin’s brow furrowed with suspicion. “What about Rebecca? How did you know about her?”

  “Perhaps we could retire to my office to discuss this like gentlemen.” Randall directed Justin toward the closed office door with a wave of his hand.

  When he started in that direction, Justin followed.

  Tess mentally assessed Randall’s eerily polite manner. She knew things weren’t what they seemed. Randall was plotting, or setting a trap, or waiting for Henry to return, or . . . what?

  As she trailed behind the two men, she thought about the only time she’d darkened the door of Randall’s hallowed office just a few days before. He’d tested her recognition of Rebecca’s yearbook picture, blatantly intimidating her with—

  The gun!

  Already Randall was reaching for the top drawer of his desk. She threw herself on Justin and screamed, “No!”

  A loud pop reverberated through the room. Pain seared her shoulder as she and Justin tumbled to the floor with a hard thud.

  Justin scrambled to put himself in the line of fire, shielding Tess with his body.

  Clamping a hand over the source of sharp pain in her shoulder, she found it damp. She drew back her hand and gaped at the blood darkening her fingers.

  Randall rounded his desk, clearly enjoying the position of dominance his weapon gave him. His grin gloated his power with demonic glee. “Nice try, Tess. But I still have five bullets. I can put one in each of your heads and still have three left.”

  “You’re sick.” Justin breathed in quick, shallow pants, but his eyes blazed with defiance. “If you kill us in cold blood with your own gun, the cops will be all over you. You’ll fry, Sinclair.”

  Her gentle cowboy’s courage flooded her heart with love. If Justin was prepared to fight, then so was she. She had nothing left to lose and so much to fight for.

  Knowing the gunshot would bring Henry downstairs, she thought fast. She had precious little time to plan.

  “How sweet of you to be concerned,” Randall said. “But I’m smarter than to let the pigs pin anything on me. You broke into my house and killed my wife. My killing you was a clear-cut case of self-defense.”

  While Tess listened to Randall’s scheme, she scanned the area within her reach. She spied a decorative doorstop just past the reach of her fingers. But if she stretched . . .

  She inched her hand across the Persian rug then hesitated. If she tossed the weighted sculpture at Randall and missed, he’d start shooting. They had to get the gun away from him. She could only pray Justin would follow the same line of reasoning.

  And pray she did as she grabbed for the iron doorstop. The quick movement sent currents of pain shooting from her injured shoulder, and she bit back a moan. In a flash, she rolled on her back and lobbed the iron piece at a decorative mirror on the wall across the room from her. The mirror shattered with a loud crash, and Randall reflexively jerked his head toward the noise.

  Justin seized the moment of distraction to kick a long leg up at the gun in Randall’s hand. Randall spun back around as the gun flew from his hand and landed behind him. When Randall turned to retrieve the pistol, Justin clambered up from the floor and tackled him from behind.

  Tess searched the floor for the gun, but Randall managed to scoop it up before Justin grabbed him. The men battled for control of the weapon. Metal flashed. Hands grappled. Antiques shattered.

  “Mr. Sinclair?” Henry shouted from the hall.

  Tess gasped and scrambled for a plan. Quickly, she hid behind the office door. Snatching an Oriental vase from a bookshelf, she flattened herself against the wall, out of view. The minute Henry stepped into the room, she jumped from behind the door. Swinging with every ounce of her strength, she smashed the vase on Henry’s head.

  The burly man crumpled on the floor, and for a fraction of a second, Tess worried that she’d killed him.

  The crack of Randall’s gun grabbed her attention. In a flurry of fists and elbows, Justin still struggled to subdue Randall. Tess caught her breath and watched the deadly contest. Randall backed Justin against the desk and pinned him. Blood stained the front of Justin’s shirt near his waist.

  With a howl of pent-up rage and hatred, Tess charged Randall’s back and jumped on him, clawing like a rabid wildcat.

  “Get off me, bitch!” Randall grabbed at her scratching hands. Justin took advantage of the distraction to lift a well-placed knee to Randall’s groin. Randall slumped, clutching his injured crotch. Justin wrested the gun from his opponent and aimed it at his head.

  “Justin, no!”

  “Why the hell not?” Justin’s hands shook, and his eyes blazed with a wild fire.

  “Because you’re not a murderer. If you kill him, you’re no better than he is,” Tess squeaked, her throat tight with fear and tears.

  She saw the turmoil swirling in his eyes. A muscle in his cheek twitched. “If I had killed Mac when I had the chance, Becca would be alive today.” His voice sounded strangled. “But I didn’t, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Her heart beat double-time as the depth of his pain and conflict became clear. She reached for his hands and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “Becca didn’t want you to kill for her. And neither do I. I know you’re hurting, but killing Randall won’t bring Rebecca back.”

  Randall peered up, assessing the situation with dark eyes.

  Justin cut a quick sideways glance at Tess. “But it would solve your problems.”

  “No. It would only make new ones. You’d be wanted for murder, and the gentle goodness I love about you would be destroyed.”

  The gun in Justin’s hand drooped. The blaze in his eyes cooled. Behind her, Henry moaned and stirred. “Let’s just get out of here,” she said. “Please, Justin! We have to hurry!”

  Justin aimed the gun and fired a bullet into Randall’s foot. Randall screamed in agony, and Tess yelped, startled by the shot.

  “At least I can slow him down,” Justin said, backing toward the door.

  When Justin grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the living room, Tess nearly tripped over Henry.

  “Which way? Where’s Randall’s car?”

  “Through the kitchen.”

  Stumbling, she headed for the garage with Justin on her heels. Flying down the flight of steps from the kitchen door to the ground level of the garage in one leap, Justin slid across the hood of Randall’s Jaguar. Scurrying behind him, Tess plunged into the front passenger seat.

  “Where’s the key?” He groped the ignition and floor mat.

  Tess groaned. “I don’t know.”

  He flipped down the visor, and a key fell into his lap. He grinned smugly, but before he could crank the engine, a tall form darkened the kitchen door. Tess glanced up with a start. Henry plowed through the doorway and down the steps, while Justin coaxed the engine to start.

  “Come on, baby, we’ve gotta r
oll!”

  Tess locked the car doors with a flip of a lever as the engine roared to life. A rumble caught her attention. Henry had lowered the garage door and was punching in a code on a keypad. Tess mashed the button of the remote control in the car, but the door didn’t budge. “Henry’s locked us in!”

  Henry moved to her car door and pounded her window with the butt of his gun. Holding her breath, she waited for the shattering of glass and the blast of Henry’s gun.

  “Hang on!” Justin shouted, gunning the engine. He popped the clutch, and the Jaguar rocketed toward the closed garage door.

  Tess barely had time to shield her face before they crashed through the door. Splintering wood rained down, and metal crunched.

  As the Jaguar flew down the driveway and bounced over the curb, Justin floored the accelerator. He gave a victorious whoop which was cut short as the back window shattered.

  Swiveling in her seat, Tess watched Henry empty his pistol at the car. Bullets hit the car with ominous thunks.

  “Get down!” Justin shoved her toward the floor.

  When he took a corner too fast, the car nearly went up on two wheels. She whimpered and closed her eyes until she felt the wheels regain traction.

  “We just got away from two guns. Try not to kill us now with your driving!” She glared at the sassy grin Justin flashed her. She clung to the edge of the seat and sucked in a deep breath, trying to restore her ragged heartbeat to a normal pace.

  “You’re bleeding. Are you hit?” Concern laced his tone, and he nodded toward her shoulder. Tess peeled back her shirt to examine her wound. “It’s just a graze, a shallow cut. It’s barely bleeding anymore. Keep driving!”

  He frowned but didn’t argue. The need to get some distance between them and Randall and company was an unspoken priority.

  After a few minutes, Tess moved back up on the seat and looked out the window. “Any idea where we’re going?”

  “I’m working on it. I have a couple ideas.”

  “Such as.”

  “The police.”

 

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