He lifted a bruised hand. “We got him, Sara. He’s okay.” He grabbed the wall and shoved himself back to his feet. “Now it’s your turn. I’m getting you out of here.”
“No!” She rubbed her face; the bruise hurt like hell. “I mean, yes, I want out of here. But we can’t leave Hank here.”
The sudden darkness in Garrison’s eyes raised goose bumps on her arms. “You’re protecting him?” His voice came out dangerous, low, deadly.
“No, not exactly. I want him to pay for what he did. But we can’t leave him to hurt more people.”
Garrison staggered toward her. “What do you suggest? Killing him?”
She bit her lip as she studied Hank’s unmoving form. Maybe he was dead from her blow? “No, but shouldn’t we, you know, call the cops or something?”
He exhaled and shook his head. “Sara, his family is the police in these parts. And the cell phone doesn’t work out here.” He rubbed his neck. “Please, let’s just get out of here. I need to know that you’re okay.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “I’m good. You found Zach. And you’re here now.”
“Sara, I—”
She held her breath.
Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “I’m glad I found you before Hank could do worse damage.”
Her breath whooshed out. “You’re glad. Yeah. I got it.”
He dropped to his knees in front of her, his deep groan filling the hut. “Damn, I’m getting too old for this crap.” Taking her chin in his hand, he stared at her, like she was an algebra problem to solve. “I need you away from this place. Away from Hank. For me. Please. I—” His jaw went hard. “If I stay here, there no telling what I will do to Hank for hurting my son. For hurting you.” When he looked at her like that, she wanted to drown in his gaze.
Every muscle in her body went slack as she leaned into him. He pulled her into his arms. She didn’t even care that he was crushing her to his chest.
Because it was Garrison’s chest.
He had found her.
“You’re a tough woman, you know, whacking Hank over the head.”
“Pure skill,” she mumbled into his shirt.
His chuckle turned her bones to liquid. “God, I’m glad you’re all right.” He whispered those two words like a prayer. Like he tried to convince himself.
“I’m okay, thanks to you.”
Holding on to her upper arms, he leaned back. “Please. Let’s get out of here.”
She wanted to soothe the hurts and kiss away the bruises on his face. But she and Garrison were in the middle of the woods. In winter. Two feet from a guy who had tried to kill them both. “Okay. We can go. We’ll send the police back here and hope they will do their job.”
“Good deal.” He stood, pulling her up and into his side. Where their frames met, familiar, comforting warmth flooded her skin.
As she took a step, a hand closed around her ankle.
Chapter 25
Hank moaned and rolled over, bloody fingers digging into Sara’s lower leg. What the hell? He wasn’t out? The guy had superhuman strength and endurance. Garrison had never seen anything like it before.
The power flared to life, blanked out all other rational thought, and took over Garrison’s will.
He wanted to kill Hank, but first he had unfinished business with the guy. The unfinished business required the asshole to remain conscious.
Using the edge of his boot heel to encourage Hank to let go of Sara’s leg, Garrison retrieved the pieces of rope and trussed Hank’s wrists and feet.
Sara stared at him with wide-eyed horror. Hank writhed within the bonds and spat curses. Garrison paused, torn.
Son of a bitch. He should get her out of here and to warmth and safety, but damn it, his fingers of truth itched to connect with the man’s head.
In fact, the roar of his power built up to a cyclone inside his skull. The spinning pressure pushed against his mind. Cracks started to form. He’d never experienced anything like this with his gift before. Stress pushed him to a new level. So much did the power consume him, he set her to the side and scooted a few feet away, worried he’d hurt her.
He kicked Hank’s foot.
The hog-tied man yowled. “Fuck off.”
“Good. You’re conscious enough for me.” He knelt and locked Hank’s sweaty, bloody face between his two hands, then released every ounce of power in an arrow of psychic energy, anchoring himself to the other man’s mind. Hank screamed but kept his eyes fixed on Garrison.
“Hank, I’m going to ask you a question.”
“I’m not answering anything, dickhead.”
The building pressure felt different tonight. Maybe he didn’t need Hank to say anything. What if he didn’t need to ask a question to get the answers?
He’d try it the normal way first. “Where is Tiffani?”
Hank’s jaw clamped down. The anger boiling in Garrison’s body ratcheted up his newly hungry power several notches. The ability wanted to be released, needed to be released. The roaring in Garrison’s head would give him a stroke unless he let it out.
So Garrison did something he’d never done in his life. He didn't simply read Hank’s lying aura. This time, Garrison shoved his power into another person and reached inside. Under the invasion, Hank writhed and howled while Garrison’s ability freakin’ looked for the answer to the question. His power had never acted like this before.
Then, like it stumbled onto an idea, the ability shifted, as if it found what it came for and throttled back. He simply read Hank’s memories of Tiffani like a sick, disjointed story.
While working at the county office, Tiffani had found out about the Brands’ mining and property acquisition plans a year ago. Hank at first had tried to sweet-talk her into keeping her mouth shut, but later resorted to blackmail.
So Tiffani had posed for nude pictures in a men’s magazine back in college? For this she bent to Hank’s will?
Not only that reason. There. The truth in Hank’s mind glowed bright orange.
Garrison’s brain pulsed like a bass drum, making it difficult to concentrate, but he pressed forward. He needed to know the complete truth about his wife.
Hank whined like an animal stuck in a metal trap, writhing in pain with nowhere to run. Good. Garrison dug deeper.
Not only had Hank held the specter of public humiliation over Tiffani, he’d found out about her fixation with Vaughn, and then Hank had threatened Zach’s life. Blackmail and threats kept piling up, deeper and scarier. So, little by little, Tiffani had covered up important information about the Brand’s mining operation, helped Hank, and siphoned county funds to him.
When that hadn’t been enough, Hank cashed in all of the blackmail. He wanted to ruin her family, her career, and her reputation.
Similar M.O. to how he treated Sara. At least the asshole remained consistent.
Then, Hank forced Tiffani to become his lover eleven months ago. His sexual tastes were ... uniquely twisted ... but when that relationship didn’t work out, he forced her to empty the joint bank account she had with Garrison.
Then she gave the money to Hank.
That awful day, right after the divorce papers arrived, when Garrison went to withdraw cash and had zero dollars in the account.
He had thought that moment represented his rock bottom. Until today.
Hank started to scream, his eyes rolling back, fighting against the invasion. A shadowed zone remained in Hank’s mind, still closed off the Garrison. Maybe there was even more. Garrison plunged in farther until the man howled.
Big deal. Let the guy scream. He deserved the pain, and Garrison ignored his own pounding headache as he pressed the man further. He couldn’t care less if he exploded the foul pulp of that guy’s brain in the process. More pressure. More answers.
The dark area remained closed. No truth existed in that black wasteland. A voice whispered. Withdraw. Or else.
Refocusing on the information he wanted from Hank, Garrison gritted out, “You did
n’t answer my question. Where is Tiffani?”
“She’s dead, you loser.”
Garrison strained with every muscle in his body to maintain control of his power and not twist the man’s head off his shoulders. “Did you kill her?”
“No.”
Truth and fury glowed a desperate, lava red in Hank’s mind.
“Who killed her then?”
“Not sure. I kicked her to the curb early this year, after I had your money and had sampled all the rest of her goodies. I think she ran away to Salt Lake City and hooked up with some bad people there.”
Truth, as much as Hank knew, continued to glow.
“What about this talk of your calling and your mission?”
Darkness within his mind pulsed. Seethed. Forced Garrison back. “Fuck. You.”
The black area formed into a thick wall inside of Hank’s mind. The truth lay behind that wall. The second Garrison’s power brushed against the darkness, an explosion of sound, light, and evil flung him out of Hank’s mind.
• • •
How long he lay in the fetal position on the dirt floor, Garrison had no idea. Only that the roar had gone away, replaced by a muffled feeling in his ears, like he’d stood way too close to a speaker at a concert. His head throbbed so badly even his hair hurt. Were his ears bleeding? Felt like it. Son of a bitch, every piece of his body ached like hell.
Right, because he’d used his power, times a million. He’d have a migraine until he could apply for AARP membership. Shit.
A questioning sound from Sara and he dropped his hands and pushed to a seated position. Every cell in his body ached.
Hank groaned ... Join the crowd. Garrison couldn’t give a shit.
Instead, Garrison crawled over to Sara and took her in his arms. Even though his head pounded, being near this woman soothed his pain, balanced him, and reconnected him to something good after being coated in the slime of that bastard’s mind.
“God,” she cried. “What happened? It was like you were in a trance for a half hour.”
“I’m fine now.”
“I don’t understand what going on. What did you do?”
“Something I vowed never to do and will try not to ever do again.”
“Garrison?” Her quavering voice made him haul her in for a long, hard embrace. The soft, trembling body in his arms felt like bright light and possibilities and life. He’d been given a second chance here, and damned if he would squander the gift this time around.
He kissed her until neither of them could breathe, burying his hands in her tangled hair. Careful of the bruised areas, he dropped kisses on her neck, chin, lips, and forehead. Even now, in a freezing, dirty cabin in the middle of God-knew-where, he couldn’t get enough of her.
“You two should get a room.” Hank spat.
Garrison helped her to stand, picked up the wooden chair leg, and whacked Hank on the head once more. Those bulging eyes rolled back in his head.
“I’m sick of listening to him talk.”
Sara sighed and wrapped her arms around Garrison’s midsection. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Once he confirmed that she could walk on her own, they exited the shack.
He retrieved his coat and put it on her, and then he pulled out his cell phone. No reception. No help coming. So it was up to him to get them out of here safely. He could feel the temperature dropping, they had minimal supplies, and were both injured. He picked up the gun. Not that he could aim for shit, with his vision blurry.
None of that mattered. He would stay strong for Sara. He’d get her out of this mess.
How was Zach doing? Did Shelby and Eric get him back to the house? He couldn’t do anything until he got back to the ranch. With Sara.
Before they’d made it more than a few feet, an ear-splitting scream erupted from the shack.
“You will not win!” a voice screamed.
Garrison turned and shoved Sara behind him.
“Oh, Great One, yes. I will still give you a sacrifice tonight.” The howls split the darkness until a blast of light and a percussion of sound sent them flying back on their butts in the snow.
What in God’s name had happened? Garrison helped Sara to her feet and, against her protests, ran back to the shack.
The inside of the building had been scorched like a flash fire had touched every inch of the structure, all at once.
Hank was nowhere to be seen. No burned remains, no bones, nothing. All that remained was a circle of charred ropes on the floor.
Garrison backpedaled out of the building. Whatever happened to Hank couldn’t have been good. The creepy crawly sensations on his neck made him pull Sara toward his horse as fast as she could go. By some miracle, Hank might be alive. Whatever happened in there wasn’t normal, and hell if Garrison would expose Sara to more danger tonight.
Dragging her to the horse, he gave her a quick hug before helping her up into the saddle. Her arms wrapping around him personified heaven and hell.
What he wanted.
What he had almost lost.
Chapter 26
The sturdy horse stomped one hoof and whuffed a breath of vapor as Sara grabbed the saddle horn.
“Sorry, fella, you’ve got more work to do tonight before you rest.” Garrison patted the horse’s neck. He turned to Sara. “Rode much?”
“No. But I’ll become an expert if this is our ticket out of here.” She glanced over her shoulder, imagining a shadow form running through the forest, stalking them.
Garrison grasped the reins and led the horse through the snow-covered terrain. His gait remained unsteady.
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’ll walk until we get to safer terrain.”
“But—”
The warmth of his hand on her leg dispelled the shivers of fear shaking her body. Yes, they could do this. They were going to get out of here, in one piece. Alive.
“But nothing. Let’s go home.” He tilted his face up with a mangled smile. “And don’t get cocky. We’ve got several hours of travel ahead of us.” He checked his watch. “It’s 10:30. Going to be a long night.”
“Can’t be much longer than it already has been.”
He nodded. “We’ll be home soon, don’t worry.”
Home.
Her gut clenched.
Sure, Garrison had risked his life to save her from Hank. But the facts remained. Her relationship with Hank had laid the groundwork for the deadly actions this night. Zach had nearly died.
Home.
Didn’t matter how much the Taggart family had welcomed her, she had no place in this family. To be fair, she had no place at all. Not in Copper River. Not anywhere.
It also didn’t matter how much she adored Zach. Didn’t matter how much she ... cared for Garrison. She couldn’t stay in his life. Her own life lay before her. Her plans.
And after tonight, she had even more reason to want to leave Copper River the minute her contract ended. Time to stop hurting the people around her.
Her legs ached, and her face throbbed. Thankfully, the sensation had returned to her hands, though the rope burns on her wrists stung when fabric brushed over them. But after what Garrison had done for her tonight, no way would she complain. Mother Mary, if he hadn’t come for her, she’d be dead. No question.
Limping in front of the horse, he led the way through the rough, snowy terrain. He bent into the frigid wind. A lump formed in her throat. Here she sat, wrapped in his toasty sheepskin coat. There he walked, coatless, dealing with the dropping temperatures like it was no big deal.
Damned if his essence didn’t permeate the coat. The simple act of ducking her face into the collar and taking a deep breath brought memories of his rugged face and their night of passion. His masculine scent made her nerves tingle.
His scent made her heart ache.
“Garrison, do you want to ride for a while? You’ve been walking forever.”
He paused and looked up, his face hidden in the darkness. “You
know what? Yes, I’d love to ride. My knee’s killing me.”
“Absolutely.” She removed her right leg from the stirrup to swing over the saddle.
His hand on her leg froze her in place and then sent a zing of excitement straight into her belly. She had to remember to breathe. Holy cow, all that from touching her leg?
His quiet voice split the still air. “I’d like to join you, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” Her voice came out way too thready. Riding double with Garrison was dangerously like other things they would never do together again.
“Um, if you hop down for a second?” One corner of his swollen mouth lifted.
“Oh.”
He helped her down, swung up into the saddle, and kicked his left foot out of the stirrup. In an ungraceful move of impressive proportions, she hiked her aching leg so that her foot could rest in the stirrup, grabbed his hand, and stepped up as he helped her settle behind him.
“You may want to hold on,” he said.
What woman wouldn’t?
Maybe she wouldn’t see him again, but the memory of her time spent with Garrison would keep her warm for many lonely winter nights. She wrapped her arms around him, bringing her chest up flush against his back. His body heat radiated through her skin, even through the coat she wore, and her head swam as she pressed her cheek to his neck.
“You can’t do that,” he murmured.
She started. “What?”
“It makes me crazy.”
Life plans be damned. She wanted to taste his skin, at least once more. “Like this?” She licked an exposed area of his neck, and he shuddered.
“Keep it up, and I’ll get pulled over for drunk riding.”
His chuckle rolled through her in a soothing wave of comfort, settling over her like a warm blanket. Nice feelings while they lasted, but her time with Garrison was drawing to an end. She wouldn’t think about it. Instead, she would rest for a few minutes. She laid her uninjured cheek on his upper back, tightened her grip around his muscled waist, and closed her eyes.
Sometime later, his voice drifted back to her.
“Wake up, Sara.”
Legacy of Lies Page 20