Bound by the Don (Contarini Crime Family Book 3)

by Brook Wilder

  “Sweetheart… that’s a horse,” he finally said, trying to keep his voice gentle, all the while aware that he was running out of time. They couldn’t just stay there out in the open like that.

  The blonde beauty rolled her big eyes in his direction. It was too dark to tell their color, but he saw that gesture, no problem.

  “I know it’s a horse,” she snapped. “The horse’s name is Goat.”

  “Funny name for a horse,” Hatchet said.

  “Funny, maybe. But he looks just fine and that means I can get going.” She started to rise but he stopped her.

  “Go?” Hatchet shook his head as he spoke. “I don’t think you understand yet, lady. You aren’t going anywhere, except with me.”

  “What the hell?” She jerked her body away from him and Hatchet regretted what he was about to do. In his experience, women didn’t really like being told what to do. And they especially didn’t like being tied up and thrown over the back of a horse, but that was exactly what was about to happen.

  “Come on, sweetheart. It’s gonna be a whole hell of a lot easier on you if you don’t struggle.”

  “Struggle?” She hissed out the word, staring at him wide eyed. “I’m not about to let you take me anywhere, mister.”

  “It’s not ‘mister’. It’s Hatchet.”

  “Oh, that’s real reassuring, Hatchet.” She snorted as she said it. “What sort of name is that anyway?”

  “What sort of name is Goat for a horse?” Hatchet shot back.

  “This is ridiculous. I’m going home.”

  “I’m afraid you’re not, darlin’,” Hatchet sighed, reaching out to grab her arms. That’s when the hollering started.

  “Let go of me right now, you… you… insane person! What the hell do you think you’re doing! You have no right to…” Her angry stream of words cut off abruptly as Hatchet reluctantly shoved the bandana he had in his back pocket in her mouth, quickly tying it securely behind her head.

  “I really am sorry about that, sweetheart, but you’re being awfully loud and I can’t afford you bringing any attention out here.”

  Shocked by the gag, she just stared up at him with those big eyes. He cursed the darkness, suddenly needing to know just what shade they were. Get your fucking head in the game, Hatchet. You’re no Romeo and this fine female form sure as hell ain’t your Juliet.

  The mental scolding had Hatchet moving quickly, tying her hands together behind her back so she couldn’t move. His hands on her arms kept her from bolting but it did nothing to protect him from the glare she cast over her shoulder at him.

  Slowly, as gently as he could, Hatchet patted her down. Running his hands down the side of her ribcage, he marveled at her tiny waist, easily encircling it with his two hands. Halfway through the search, he didn’t notice his touch slowing to almost a caress as he swept his palms up and down her soft body. For a long moment, he lost himself in the feel of her, barely remembering what he’d been doing in the first place.

  With a jolt, he pulled his hands away from her, but his palms were still tingling and the unexpected – and damned unwanted – attraction was still making itself known in the tightening in his pants. Hatchet shook his head, cursing himself for a fool, and forced himself to keep his focus on the job ahead of him instead of the delectably curvy woman. It was harder than it should have been.

  Quickly, he finished the pat down, finding only her cell phone. He threw it on the ground behind him and ignored her gasp of outrage. It was muffled by the gag, but it did nothing to dilute the glare she was shooting at him now.

  “What the hell am I going to do with you?” Hatchet whispered the question out loud, but no answer came, just that furious glare and her soft skin glowing pale and luminescent in the moonlight. It was the only light besides the stars that twinkled down at them and, before he could second guess himself, he was pulling her to her feet and sweeping her up in his arms like some damned white knight. More like black knight, Hatchet thought to himself. He was definitely not the hero of this story and, from the looks of it, the woman now wriggling against his arms was no damsel in distress.

  He looked down at her then, struck by a vague familiarity as he tried to make out more of her features in the dark. But after a moment he gave up. Jackrabbit’s out there waiting for me and the cattle, and I’m just standing here drooling over a dirty but beautiful farm hand.

  With one final look around him, Hatchet carried her over to his horse. With a bit of maneuvering, was able to get the woman on the saddle before leaping up to sit behind her. Hatchet breathed in sharply as the back of her body fused against the front of his and her hips nestled tight in the open vee of his own. Hatchet cursed silently again at the delicious feel of her.

  Damn it, maybe this is a bad idea after all, he thought as he heeled his horse to a trot. He had to gather the cattle and get back to Jackrabbit fast, before he did something really stupid.

  ***

  What is happening to me? This can’t be real. This just can’t be real. But, as Elsie watched the ranch disappear behind her, she knew just how real it was. Her hands were bound tightly and the stale taste of the fabric gagged her mouth. She’d been kidnapped. Of all the ridiculous, annoying, bothersome things to have happen to her, she had one more to add to the list. Elsie McLaurel – kidnap victim.

  It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would be added to her resume, but she had to admit that the man sitting snugly behind her on the large stallion wasn’t like any kidnapper she knew. Not that she knew many or any personally, if she was being honest. The only kidnapping she’d ever seen was on the big screen. But if this had been a movie, he’d be scary and mean—terrifying her, threatening her. Instead he’d been… gentle, if tying up a woman and dragging her off to god knows where could ever be gentle.

  And there had been something else there too. Maybe it was just because, even in the dark, she had seen his dark eyes burning over her skin, or the fact that he’d towered over her, or the fact that he was more handsome than sin, all wrapped up in a bad boy package that had her body going haywire. But when he touched her while he was binding her wrists together with the rope, his hands had lingered longer than they needed to and a spark of electricity had shot through her. It was something she’d never felt before and something—damn her soul to hell and back—she desperately wanted to feel again.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I should be fighting. I should be doing something! But she didn’t. And that worried her far more than the man currently riding in the saddle behind her.

  She’d always been cautious, careful. Too careful according to Rachael. But right then, at that moment in the darkness, with the feel of a stranger’s hand—big and hot and heavy—against her waist, she felt anything but cautious. For the first time in her life, Elsie McLaurel felt reckless.

  What was worse, she liked it.

  That was it. Maybe she really had lost her marbles when Goat had bucked her from the saddle. Maybe she’d hit her head, and this was all some big hallucination. Yep, that’s it. That’s the only reasonable answer for all of this. That was the only solution that made sense. She’d finally gone off the deep end.

  Elsie held that thought tightly as her captor—Hatchet if he could be believed—rode confidently through a dark forested area. She had to admit that he knew his way around a horse, the large stallion responding easily to his deft touch on the reins. It made her wonder what else he had a deft touch with. The thought left her cheeks burning so hot that for a split second she was glad of the darkness.

  He stopped only once to collect the cattle he had tied up to a tree just beyond the ranch’s property line. Elsie instantly recognized them as the cows that had gone missing earlier in the day. It was too dark to see but she could guess that their trackers were the ones she’d followed to the grassy field. After a few moments the cattle ropes were tied up behind the saddle and they were moving again.

  She wasn’t sure how long they had ridden, her thoughts circling around an
d around like a startled bird with nowhere to land, when his deep, gruff voice startled her.

  “Here, I think we’re far enough away.” There was that note of gentleness again, the one that had thrown her for a loop when he first tied her up. With his free hand, he pointed to the piece of fabric still gagging her. “Now, I’m gonna take this off, and you’re going to be quiet, alright? Otherwise I’ll have to put it back. You get me?”

  He was silent for a long moment and Elsie realized he was waiting her answer. In lieu of words she gave her head a slight nod and a minute later she could feel his hand brushing across her cheek. She didn’t know if the caress was intentional or not but, either way, it sent chills shivering down the back of her spine.

  “Cold?” he asked, and Elsie went all flush again. He must have felt the tremor that had shaken her, and known it had nothing to do with temperature. The gag was untied and slipped away, and she gratefully took a long deep breath. A moment later a jacket was slipped around her shoulder and Elsie looked behind her in surprise at the kind gesture.

  “What is it?” he asked, noticing her stare, and Elsie forced a shrug.

  “It’s just that… you’re nice, for a kidnapper,” she said softly, and her words earned a scowl from the big man sitting behind her.

  “I’m not nice, darling, don’t you ever forget that. I’m not a kidnapper, either.” The last bit was said under his breath and she had the feeling he was talking more to himself than her.

  “Then let me go,” she pleaded, some sense of self-preservation forcing her to speak. “Let me go and we’ll just forget all about this. I won’t say anything, I promise.”

  He gave her a long look before finally shaking his head. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. It’s far too late for that. You’ll stay with me until I figure out what to do with you. Make things easier on yourself and stay quiet.”

  “You have to let me go!” Elsie said, a sudden panic making her lurch in the saddle. The horse beneath her gave a snort of displeasure, shaking his head.

  Hatchet quickly snaked his arm around Elsie’s waist, holding her tight against him. He took a moment to calm the animal before growling in her ear. “If you try that again, I might just let Samson here throw you. I might not be there to catch you in time again. Now, I don’t want any trouble.” He cut off abruptly as they trotted out of the tree line and onto an older access road. At this time of night, it was completely deserted of cars, but as they crossed the pavement Elsie could just make out a large ditch that ran along the shoulder and at the bottom of which was a beat up old truck with a trailer attached. Beside it were two motorcycles and one very impatient looking man.

  “Jesus, Hatchet! It’s about fucking time!” the man exploded, sounding angry while at the same time somehow managing to keep his voice down. Elsie saw the exact moment the new man’s eyes found hers in the dark. She could see the way he stiffened and then turned a deadly glare towards the man still sitting behind her. “A girl? Hatchet, we had a plan. Who is she? And what the fuck is going on?”

  Chapter 4

  Hatchet had to force himself not to flinch under Jackrabbit’s pissed off stare. It made it even worse knowing that he deserved it.

  “Here, give me a hand, will you?” He nodded towards Elsie who had practically frozen in shock in front of him. “I’ve got the cattle back here.”

  “Why, Hatchet?” Jackrabbit asked, and Hatchet knew he wasn’t asking about why he needed help. But all he could do was shake his head, at a total and complete loss for the first time in a long while. If he was being honest, he couldn’t even answer that question for himself. So Hatchet did what he’d always done when backed into a corner. He bluffed.

  “She was out in the field. She saw me, Rabbit. I didn’t have a choice…” Hatchet started. But Jackrabbit held up a hand, pausing whatever he was going to say next.

  “I’m sure I’ll get the full story in a minute. Just help me get the cattle loaded. Ricky nearly pissed himself waiting for you and I nearly fell into a coma from boredom.” Jackrabbit stepped forward, reaching his hands up to grab the girl’s arm. Before realizing it, Hatchet slid off Samson’s back, putting himself between his captive and his best friend.

  “I’ve got her, Rabbit,” Hatchet said quickly, unable to quell the need to protect her as he nodded behind the horse to where the cows were standing. “Why don’t you get what we came for?”

  Hatchet didn’t know why he hated the idea of the other man touching her, but he did.

  Jackrabbit stared at him long and hard before he finally shrugged, walked around to untie the cattle, and led them towards the waiting trailer.

  “Wait a minute! What are you doing with Lily, Trixie, and Pearl?” the girl suddenly yelled.

  Hatchet gave her an odd look as he reached up and grasped her around the waist. “Who?”

  “Them. The cows.” She nodded towards where Jackrabbit was having a hard time leading the suddenly stubborn cows up the ramp into the trailer, “Lily, Trixie, and Pearl are their names.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Of course they are. I’m surprised you didn’t name them pig, chicken, and donkey, like your horse.”

  “You’re being an asshole,” she said.

  Suddenly, Hatchet found himself fighting a grin. What the hell was going on with him? He was a member of the Roadburners, one of the toughest motorcycle crews in West Texas, and here he was drooling over some girl. Jackrabbit cleared his throat to draw Hatchet’s attention.

  “You just gonna stand there all night, Hatchet, or are you going help me load this haul?” Jackrabbit’s voice held a caustic edge that Hatchet did his best to ignore.

  “Yeah, Rabbit, just hold on a damn minute,” Hatchet muttered towards his friend before turning back to the woman. “Now, I’m going to help you off, alright? Don’t do anything stupid.”

  She rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything else, so he took that for a good sign whether it was or not. This heist was supposed to be a simple job, in and out, and it was already FUBAR—fucked up beyond all recognition. Here he was with an extra witness, and he still hadn’t figured out what he was going to do with her.

  With her hands still tied, it was impossible for her to get down by herself, but it was easy for him to lift her from Samson’s saddle. The well-trained horse stood still, waiting patiently while she threw her leg over. Her body slid down his as he lowered her gently to the ground, and he noticed for the first time just how much smaller she was than him. It distracted him for a moment, as did the memory of her lush softness sweeping down his still hard body.

  “Hatchet! Fuck man! A little help?”

  He turned at the angry pleading in Jackrabbit’s voice to see him trying to shove the cows by the back end into the trailer. It would have been comical had he not been so god-damned unnerved by this girl’s powerful effect on him.

  “Stay here. Don’t move,” he ordered the girl, who just gestured to her still tied hands in lieu of a response. After giving her one last, hard look, he jogged towards where Jackrabbit was still ineffectually trying to get the cattle loaded.

  “You push. I’ll pull,” he said, grabbing the lead ropes. Jackrabbit rolled his eyes.

  “You try pushing a half ton of cow,” he growled and Hatchet couldn’t keep the grin off his face or the laughter out of his voice.

  “Just do it, okay? We need to get this done and get the hell out of here.”

  “I know that, Hatchet,” he growled again. “I’m not the one who’s running two hours late. I’m not the one who decided to pick up a stray along the way. I’m not the one…”

  “Yeah, I read you, Rabbit. We can stand here and argue about this or we can get the fucking job done. Your call.”

  “Yeah, right,” Jackrabbit sneered. “Let’s just fucking do this so I can go home and get drunk, alright?”

  Hatchet didn’t say anything else. He just grabbed the rope and started to pull. The cows didn’t budge. He pulled again, almost swore that they had taken an extra step backwards ou
t of spite.

  “Fucking cows won’t move,” Hatchet ground out between clenched jaws, his muscles bulging as he pulled on the ropes connected to the cattle.

  “No shit, Hatchet. This is all your fucking fault, you know that, right? You’re such an asshole,” Jackrabbit said as he took a step back and threw his hands up in the air before planting them on his hips. “You screwed us over.”

  “No, I didn’t!” Hatchet dropped the ropes as his own temper flared. He dropped the makeshift reins and stalked over to where Jackrabbit was still standing behind the stubborn cattle. “I didn’t do shit!”

  “Shit is exactly what you did do, Hatchet.” Jackrabbit’s eyes narrowed on him as he walked closer. “What the fuck were you thinking? We’ve been working these jobs for over three years now and you’ve never pulled anything like this.”

  “You don’t understand, Rabbit. She saw my face. She’d seen me with the cows’ trackers. What was I supposed to do, just send her on her way and hope that she didn’t call for help? Or the god-damned cops?”