Chasing a Dream

by Beth Cornelison

  After Hallie left, Tess crossed the room to Justin and slid her arms around his waist, careful to avoid disturbing his stitches. Justin set the guitar aside so that he could pull Tess closer. He combed her hair behind her ears with his fingers then gave her a quick kiss. “Brian and I took the Jaguar to a junkyard on the way to the clinic.”

  Tess nodded.

  “Brian’s going to lend us some money, so we can rent a car or buy a plane ticket to Mexico or lay low on a cruise to Alaska or whatever you want. Whatever we think would be best. Brian will also talk to some of his lawyer buddies and get a restraining order in place for you.”

  When she bit her lip, he lay a finger across her mouth and rubbed the edge tenderly.

  “And he’ll go to the courts with what I’ve told him about Randall and his attempt on our lives. Brian will get an investigation started. With your testimony, Brian feels sure we can get Randall locked up. Then, when everything is safe, you’ll come out of hiding and live happily ever after.”

  As Tess gazed into Justin’s hopeful blue eyes, she tried to muster the same confidence in his plan. But she knew Randall’s tenacity, the reach of his power, the infinite possibilities for something to go wrong. She knew the high probability that they would die before Randall finished with them. But for Justin’s sake, because of all he and his brother were doing for her, she smiled at him and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again. “Here’s hoping.”

  Brian came back and rubbed his hands together. “Shall we get busy?”

  Justin and Tess sat on the sofa. With Brian, they discussed all the options and stumbling blocks ahead of them. Over the next hour, the trio assembled a plan.

  In the morning, they’d rent a car in Brian’s name and drive north. Once well out of town, they’d switch cars and head to Dallas to catch a plane. From there, they’d fly to Maine, where Brian had a timeshare cabin by a lake. Later, they’d move to more permanent lodging, using aliases. Once settled, they’d be in touch with Brian, and he’d let them know when it was safe to come out of hiding. When they needed more money, they’d drive to Connecticut or another location a few hours away from their new home, and Brian would wire the cash to them.

  “All this is with the understanding that you name your firstborn after me and I receive ten percent of all sales of your first record,” Brian added as he folded up the map they’d been consulting.

  “We’d better accept,” Justin told Tess with a grin. “This is the same guy who used to extort my allowance from me in exchange for his silence about the trouble I got into as a kid. He charged me a dollar a day when I was kept for detention in seventh grade, and he came to pick me up after school because I missed the bus.”

  “He’s lying, of course.” Brian turned to Tess matter-of-factly. “I never took money from him.”

  Justin laughed. “Bull! You couldn’t have taken Sandy Booth to your junior prom if you hadn’t lined your pockets with all my money.”

  Brian’s smug grin reminded Tess of the one that often graced Justin’s lips. “Well then, maybe you should have stayed out of trouble.”

  “Why did you get detention?” she asked.

  “I was caught cutting class.”

  “So that you could . . .” Brian prompted, and Justin scowled at him.

  “Never mind why!”

  “He was out behind the lunchroom with this girl—”

  “Brian!” The tips of Justin’s ears grew bright pink.

  “—necking,” Brian finished.

  Tess raised an eyebrow as she regarded Justin with a teasing frown of jealousy.

  “I’ll see if I can help Hallie in the kitchen.” Justin’s face flushed fully as he stood and exited the living room. “I have all kinds of stories about ole Justin, Tess.” Brain sat back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head with a cocky grin. Tess smiled. “I’m all ears.”

  ***

  “So what kind of stories did my brother entertain you with?” Justin asked later that night as he eased gingerly into the double bed beside Tess. “Sorry, but he paid me a dollar to keep my mouth shut. If you want to know, it’ll cost you two dollars.” Tess rolled to face him and grinned.

  Justin patted his hips as if feeling for a wallet. “Damn. I left my money in my other pants.” He tipped his head to peer at her. “What if I showed you some of the things I was showing Susie Smith behind the lunchroom?”

  He wiggled his eyebrows, and she laughed. When he tried to sit up and turn toward Tess, the tug of his fresh stitches made him wince and fall back on the bed.

  Tess scooted closer and hovered over him in concern. “Justin, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t have the same freedom of movement until these stitches come out.” He smiled up at her and drew a crooked finger along the line of her jaw. “How’s your shoulder?”

  “A little sore, a little stiff, but a small price to be alive and here with you.”

  She smoothed a warm hand over his chest, and Justin’s whole body responded with a heightened awareness of every nerve ending.

  He caught a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers, kissed it, then moved his hand deeper into the thick tresses. Dipping her head, she pressed her lips to his in a tentative kiss that set a fire in Justin’s belly. He slid his fingers around her nape and pulled her closer, opening his mouth against hers and drawing on her lips with a gentle suction.

  Tess’s soft, satisfied sigh sounded sweeter to him than any song he’d ever heard. When she pressed against him, he felt her nipples crest through the thin fabric of the nightgown Hallie had given her. His own body hardened in response, and he fought to keep the pace slow and easy.

  Haste might frighten Tess. Haste might rip his stitches again. Haste would make it all over too soon. Being with Tess, holding her, making love to her was something Justin wanted to savor.

  His limited movement proved less of an encumbrance than he would have expected, especially since Tess seemed eager to learn, to accommodate and to please him. She stroked and kissed him, hovered over him when he coaxed her into a position where he could suckle her breasts. When he rolled on his side and drew her to him, she cuddled close. He entered her from the back, cupping her breasts and nibbling her nape as he gently thrust and withdrew. Heat built in him, burning hotter and brighter until it exploded with a fiery force that shook him with its exquisite power. Tess moaned softly, and her body convulsed around him, prolonging his bliss.

  When her body wilted in the aftermath, he held her nestled against him, their bodies still joined, his arms protectively around her. Holding her felt right. Making love to her was like a homecoming. How could he give her up and not go insane?

  If he could know he’d made a difference, if he could feel certain he’d made up for his past mistakes, could he dare to believe in himself enough to promise Tess forever? More than anything he wanted to try his hand at a lifetime commitment. But she deserved more than an attempt. He had to have confidence in his staying power. He had to prove to himself he could take care of her before he would promise her the commitment she deserved. Until then, he’d give her all he had and savor the soft crush of her body next to his.

  He slept in contentment until the early morning hours, when he received a rude awakening.

  Two men flashing badges burst into the bedroom, past Brian who shouted about warrants and rules of conduct.

  Tess screamed when the men hauled him from the bed and slammed him against the wall. Pain shot through his shoulder. Over Tess’s cries and Brian’s shouts, the man pinning him to the wall growled, “Justin Boyd, you’re under arrest for kidnapping, car theft, assault with a deadly weapon, and breaking and entering. You have the right to remain silent . . .”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Clutching the sheet over her bare breasts, Tess watched in horror as the policeman jerked Justin’s hands behind his back and handcuffed him. When the other cop turned to her, she snatched her nightgown from the tangle of covers and tugged it over h
er head.

  “Tess Sinclair?” the man said.

  She stared mutely, too stunned and frightened to speak.

  “You’ll have to come with us too. You’re wanted for questioning as a material witness.”

  Justin grumbled to the man holding his arm, “Can’t I get some pants on?”

  Brian picked up Justin’s jeans and briefs from the floor and helped his handcuffed brother dress. “I’ll be down to the station as soon as I can. Don’t answer any questions until I get there.” Brian raised a concerned but authoritative gaze to Justin then turned to Tess. “Same for you. Don’t say a word until I get down there to straighten this mess out.”

  The man nearest the bed grabbed Tess’s arm. He hauled her off the mattress, ordering gruffly, “Let’s go, lady.”

  Justin studied the two men who’d burst into the room, and his jaw tightened. His eyes darkening, he turned a haunted expression to Brian. “I love you, Bri.”

  Brian was clearly as startled by Justin’s words as he was touched. But before he could do more than give Justin a puzzled look, the men shoved Justin through the door. The men escorted them hurriedly out to a waiting car.

  The dark sedan seemed vaguely familiar to Tess. She saw no emblem indicating the law enforcement division these men were from, and a niggling doubt and a tremor of worry formed in the back of her mind and tensed her gut. When the men pushed Justin into the backseat beside her, she met his gaze and read the same doubt in his eyes, and her pulse skittered.

  Justin drew a deep breath and gave her a weak smile. “Brian will straighten everything out. We’ll be fine.”

  Tess thought she heard doubt in his voice, as if he were trying as much to convince himself as her. For Justin’s efforts to comfort her, she gave him the best smile she could and felt her cheek twitch nervously. As the car pulled away from the house, she inched closer to him, telling herself that as long as they were together, they would be fine.

  An hour later, when they still had not reached the police station, Tess could no longer convince herself they’d be fine . . . together or not.

  ***

  I love you, Bri.

  Brian heard the words, the strange quality in Justin’s voice, replaying in his head as he drove to the police station. “I love you” wasn’t something men typically told their brothers out loud. It bothered Brian that Justin had felt the need to tell him now. He couldn’t shake the idea the words held some other subtle message. But what?

  As he climbed out of his Honda Accord and hurried inside the police station, Brian pushed aside that frustrating question and the image of Justin’s haunted eyes. Clearly Justin was spooked, but why wouldn’t he be? Having a man shoot at you, having two cops bust through your bedroom door while you slept, and being arrested were enough to spook anybody.

  “I’m the attorney for Justin Boyd and Tess Sinclair, who were brought in just a little while ago,” he told the officer at the front desk.

  The man sat up and typed the names into his computer. “How do you spell that last name?”

  “Boyd. B-O-Y-D.” Brian shoved his hand in his pocket and jangled his keys. Ordinarily, he could be calm, assured, professional, even standing in front of Judge Matthews, whose reputation struck fear in lesser men. But tonight his heart beat erratically, and his hand fidgeted in his pocket. Tonight he was going to battle for Justin, and his brother’s problems had him a little spooked too.

  “No Boyd or Sinclair has been brought in here.”

  Brian cocked his head as if he hadn’t heard right. “Pardon?”

  “No Boyd or Sinclair has been brought in here.” The officer glanced up at Brian blankly.

  “Well, maybe they haven’t made it down here yet. They just left my house a couple of minutes ago. Seems hard to believe I beat them here, but—”

  “You can have a seat over there.” The officer pointed to a short row of folding chairs. “I’ll let you know when they get in.”

  Brian’s gut twisted. I love you, Bri.

  He took a seat on one of the cold aluminum chairs, and his mind replayed the whole incident from the moment he’d answered the door. The men had quickly flashed badges at him as they pushed inside. The brash entry of the cops into his house had clued him something was wrong. The police wouldn’t have barged in unless they had reason to think their suspect or key evidence was about to disappear. Drugs flushed down the commode, convicts escaping through the back door, that kind of thing.

  No such reason existed in this case.

  And though he’d asked to see a warrant for Justin’s arrest, one had never been produced. He’d been so distracted by the sight of his brother in handcuffs, the terror on Tess’s face, and the disturbing way Justin said “I love you, Bri,” he’d let the warrant issue drop.

  Brian’s heart thundered now, and he raked his fingers through his hair. After stewing for another minute, he stalked back to the front desk. “Are they here yet?”

  The desk clerk shook his head.

  “Damn,” Brian muttered as a frightening reality dawned on him. Justin had known it. That’s why he’d said he loved his brother. Justin didn’t expect to see him again.

  The men that took Justin and Tess away weren’t policemen. They worked for Randall Sinclair.

  ***

  The dark sedan pulled to a stop outside a warehouse in a downtown section of a city Tess didn’t recognize. She didn’t think they were still in Austin, considering the length of time they’d been driving.

  The driver waited for a large sliding door to be opened then cruised slowly into a dim, cavernous warehouse. Apprehension rose like a fist from her stomach to her throat, strangling her.

  Glancing at Justin, she met his eyes briefly, before he turned his head to survey the surroundings. She watched Justin’s expression for some glimmer of hope, some indication that he had an escape plan in mind. Instead, his face reflected grave worry. His uneasiness unsettled her even more.

  Suddenly, Justin’s expression hardened. He straightened his back as his eyes narrowed on something outside the sedan. She turned her gaze in the same direction and met a dark, evil pair of eyes. She gasped involuntarily, her reaction rooted in the instinctive fear Randall always stirred in her.

  The driver, his hand wrapped in a bandage, stepped out of the car and yanked open the back door. The second man who’d brought them like lambs to the slaughter leaned down and barked at Justin, “Out!”

  When Justin ducked his head to climb out of the car, the driver sent the edge of his hand crashing down on the base of Justin’s skull. Tess whimpered as he slumped forward and fell out of the car, barely conscious.

  “That’s for the whack you gave me at the fast food joint a couple weeks ago,” the man grumbled, poking Justin with his foot.

  Tess seethed at the unfair and brutal treatment but only had time to gape for a second in horror before the same man reached inside and seized her arm. She stumbled as she was dragged out of the car. Coming to her feet, she found herself staring into Randall’s hard chest. Her gaze rose slowly to meet the unflinching, unforgiving eyes that glinted back at her.

  “Tess, Tess, Tess,” Randall clucked, as if speaking to an errant child. “What must I do to teach you once and for all that I won’t tolerate your betrayal?”

  She heard Justin groan in pain, and with a quick sidelong glance, she saw two men hoist him under the arms. They led him, stumbling, to one of two chairs set in front of the car, illuminated by the headlights. The injustice of Justin’s death at Randall’s hands clawed at her conscience. That afternoon she’d sworn to fight Randall for Justin’s sake, and the sight of her cowboy crumpled in agony fired that resolve. Tensing, she raised her eyes to Randall’s.

  “Go to hell!” she snarled.

  Surprise, then rage, flashed in Randall’s eyes, and he raised his hand. Tess steeled herself for the stinging blow that was sure to come but swore to herself not to flinch. Leveling a hard gaze on Randall, she met his dark eyes head on, her chin high. Randall’s h
and stayed suspended in midair, poised, ready to strike. She didn’t move.

  Her passive submission to Randall’s brutality and blind acceptance of his wrongdoing had fed his control over her and handed him power, carte blanche.

  Don’t let him win. Take back the control.

  His gaze narrowed on her, shifting slightly as if seeing something intriguing for the first time. She stared back, her body stiff and unyielding, though her stomach swirled with trepidation. The certainty that she would die soon lodged a rock of terror in her chest. But she wouldn’t go quietly.

  Randall’s mouth curled in a humorless smile. “I see you’ve finally acquired a little backbone. I’m impressed.” He used the hand he’d raised to grab her chin, and his fingers dug into her skin. Putting his nose close to her face, he whispered, “Perhaps I will go to hell, but you’ll get there before me.”

  Randall turned to Henry, who stood beside him. “Let’s get on with this.”

  Henry wrapped beefy fingers around her upper arm and led her to the chair beside Justin, who blinked as he shook off the blow to his head. The short, stocky man who’d driven them to the warehouse pulled Tess’s hands behind the chair and bound them with duct tape at her wrists.

  The second man who’d taken them from Brian’s house was taller and dark-haired. He walked behind Justin with another roll of tape. Tearing off a piece, he covered Justin’s mouth and leaned into Justin’s ear to growl, “Try anything stupid, and you’re a dead man.” He then tore off a second, longer strip of tape to wrap around Justin’s wrists. Taping Justin’s hands seemed like overkill to Tess, considering he was still handcuffed. That oddity set off warning bells in her mind.

  “Take care of them, and dispose of the bodies,” Randall said. “I want nothing to connect me to their deaths.”

  She directed a defiant, hateful glare at Randall.

  Randall barely glanced at her. “And, Morelli,” he told the tall, dark man, “I want them to suffer.”