9781618853011NoHoldsBarredChelcee

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by Unknown


  She keyed the mike again. “You very far from your ranch? How long ago did you leave there?”

  “For God’s sake, Gertie,” Danger muttered into his radio. “I left Lacey around noon. I’m in the next county, at least an hour away. Why?”

  “You better get home, Sheriff. There’s been an apparent homicide.”

  * * * *

  Dancing Star Ranch

  Friday 4:30 p.m.

  “Montana can steal the breath from a man’s soul without ever lifting her skirts.”

  Kaycee paused and looked up at Jace. He stood a few feet away staring off in the distance. He’d been so quiet and meditative for the last few minutes, she hadn’t wanted to disturb the tranquility. She went back to spreading the red and black checkered blanket on the knee-high green grass.

  Jace eased his long frame down on the blanket beside her and stretched his legs.

  Kaycee turned toward him, watched him prop himself up with his left elbow and turn to face her. They’d driven around for awhile, laughed, talked, but she knew there was still a wall between them, a distance he felt as much as she did.

  The drive had been a good idea. They needed the time together. She hadn’t realized Jace owned so much land. It was impossible to cover it all in a single day.

  “Don’t leave me, Kaycee.” Jace drew her closer. “I love the Dancing Star,” he said huskily. “It’s my life. My heart. My soul. The Star has been in my family for generations. Through Indian attacks, droughts, and fires. Snakebites and cattle stampedes. Snow storms, ice storms, and floods, Remingtons have died and lived it all through the ages. A lot of blood, sweat, and tears have been shed to keep this place together.” His eyes darkened. He searched her face. “I’d give it all up for you.”

  Kaycee placed a trembling finger across his lips. “No more, Jace.” She wasn’t about to let her husband say one more thing to humble himself. Her man was a proud man. A strong man. She wasn’t willing to see him broken.

  Her man?

  Yes. Definitely.

  No matter what had happened between him and Jillian, no matter what Smitt Davis had done to her, Jace belonged to her, just as she belonged to him. They had problems, but they’d work them out.

  True, it might take time, but if they wanted it badly enough and tried hard enough, the reward was worth the effort. She’d read the weariness and defeat in his eyes, had heard it in his voice. Now, she saw hope. He didn’t understand he’d captured her heart the very first night they met.

  She’d tell him someday. She wanted to tell him many things, apologize for many things.

  Kaycee pushed herself to her feet and took a few steps away. She needed to think, clear her head. She walked the short distance to her left to where Jace had stopped the Jeep near the edge of a rocky cliff. She leaned forward and looked down. A steep incline of smooth rock barreled straight down into a frothy ribbon of rapids far below. The watery trail disappeared around a bend.

  To her far right, a mixture of ash, aspen, birch, and pine, tall trees, squatty trees, and a wild range of thick brush native to the state of Montana rose just as majestically as any mountain.

  Her husband’s home.

  Her home.

  She smoothed her hand over her belly. Three individual hearts beat in there. She didn’t know if Jace had fathered them or not. At this point, she didn’t know if she was carrying sons or daughters or a combination of the two. It didn’t matter.

  But she wasn’t the only one who had to come terms with the doubt.

  “Kaycee, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  She jumped. She hadn’t heard Jace come up behind her. He slid his arms around her waist and turned her to face him.

  “It doesn’t matter, darlin’,” he said, as if he’d just read her mind.

  Maybe he had.

  Jace had always understood her very well.

  She searched his face for answers. He smiled and pulled her close. “It doesn’t matter if they’re mine or Smitt Davis’s. Don’t you see? They’re babies. Your babies. They’re a little part of you I can love. I love you, darlin’. I’ll love them just as much.” Jace drew in a shaky breath. “We have a lot going for us. You don’t have to love me back, Kaycee, not if you don’t want to. I know we can make it work. I’ll tell you about Jillian. Her baby—”

  She shushed him by placing her fingers across his mouth and shaking her head. “I don’t want to hear about you and Jillian. Let’s leave it in the past where it belongs. Let’s leave it all in the past.”

  Not love him?

  Did the big, dumb galoot not realize she was crazy about him? Apparently, he didn’t. She opened her mouth to assure him she loved him, but the words never made it past her lips.

  Instead, she watched his eyes widen and an odd expression pass over his face, saw him slant a glance toward his chest with stunned disbelief. Her gaze followed his to the bloom of crimson spreading slowly, staining the front of his pale blue shirt.

  She gasped. “What?”

  The sharp crack of the gunshot echoed and followed his slow tumble to the ground.

  Kaycee dropped to her knees beside him. “Jace!”

  He grunted. “Still with you,” he said through clenched teeth. “Shit. That hurts!”

  Kaycee shifted her gaze from the blood saturating the front of his shirt to his face. She brushed the sweaty strands of hair back from his forehead and bit her lip. His skin looked ashen. A white ring circled his lips. He coughed, spraying speckles of blood onto his colorless lips.

  “Oh, God, Jace, we need to get outta here.” She glanced around wildly. Where the shot had come from was anyone’s guess. She couldn’t see anything.

  Or anyone.

  Kaycee shoved up his shirt with trembling hands and looked at the wound. A front entrance wound, just below his right collarbone, not large, about as big around as her thumb tip. Blood seeped from the wound. “I’m going to turn you, see if the bullet exited.”

  “It did,” he said, coughing. “I feel blood on my back.” He coughed again. Pink, frothy blood bubbled to his lips, and slid down his chin. “Pack the wound with something,” he said faintly.

  Kaycee nodded and turned him gently to his side.

  He groaned and clawed at her leg.

  Tears blurred her vision. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to cause you more pain.”

  She lifted his shirt and swallowed hard at the sight of the yawning wound in his back.

  “How bad?” Jace asked, between coughs.

  “Not too bad,” she replied steadily and bit her lower lip.

  Jace made a weak sound. “Don’t lie, darlin’. I’m familiar with gunshot wounds.”

  Another cough wracked his body. “There’s a knife in my right front pocket. It’s small, but you can use it to cut off part of my shirt and pack the wound.”

  Kaycee slid a hand inside his front jean pocket and tugged out the knife. It was tiny, just as he’d said the blade barely an inch in length. She didn’t want to risk turning him again to cut strips off his shirt until she had to. Instead, she hacked off the bottom portion of her shirt, cutting off strips, wadding it into a ball and stuffing it inside the wound in his back.

  Blood soaked balls of ragged material faster than she could cut and stuff it inside the gaping hole. Tears slid down her face. She fumbled with the tail of her shirt and hacked off another strip.

  “You’re wasting your time, Kaycee. I have every intention of killing him anyway.”

  The words reached her from a distance.

  She whirled to see Smitt Davis coming toward her from the woods far to her right. He carried a rifle and had it pointed at them.

  “Get away from him,” he shouted.

  Kaycee eased behind Jace, sat down on the ground and settled his head in her lap. She brought up her right knee and locked her arms around Jace’s chest. Slowly and discreetly, she reached for the small gun she’d tucked inside her boot that very morning.

  “You’ll have t
o kill me first,” she yelled, trying to pull Smitt’s attention away from her busy hands.

  Jace moaned. “Do as he says, darlin’.”

  Like hell!

  “Oh, I intend to kill you too, but not before me and my buddy have had our fun for a very long time, and not before you give birth to our babies.” Smitt laughed. “I did you good in the elevator that day. Put three babies in you at once. Told you my tadpoles were strong swimmers. Figured I’d give you at least one brat. I never dreamed about three of the little rascals.”

  He grinned and even from where he was, Kaycee saw the razor sharp tips of his teeth. She shuddered. Chills swept down her spine. Dizziness assaulted her.

  “Get away from him, Kaycee. You don’t wanna mess with me today, girlie. I done killed me two women today and a screaming baby. It won’t bother me none to do the two of you if I have to.”

  Dear God. Who had he killed? Had he come from the Star?

  No. No. He said he’d killed a baby. Who had a baby nearby?

  She took a closer look at Smitt, realized he must be telling the truth, because his clothes were saturated in blood.

  “Wh–who did you ki–kill?”

  Smitt grinned. “You really wanna know? Course you do. You’re thinkin’ I might have come here from the Star. I might have killed everyone there. No, girlie, I had me a couple hours of fun with the sheriff’s pretty little wife. Fucked her a few times just for the hell of it, got rid of a load or two, I did. I left a message painted on the kitchen wall for the sheriff, then I packed his wife’s sweet body right outta there and put it somewhere it’ll never be found.” He laughed. “I’d done had all the fun I wanted with the sheriff’s little woman. Garbage was what she was when I finished with her, garbage, fit for nothing but feeding a hog. I killed his sister and baby, too. Yep, I left pretty Anna Leigh gut shot and dying on the floor. You don’t wanna know what I did to the screaming brat.”

  Kaycee ignored the tears flooding her eyes for these unknown people.

  He looked away, his gaze focused on something only he saw. “Never could stand to hear a baby cry, had to shut him up.”

  She covered her mouth to keep from puking. She hadn’t met either of the women or seen Danger’s son, but she knew he was bound to love his wife and baby. Dear God, she’d known Smitt Davis was a monster, but she hadn’t realized how truly evil and unbalanced he was.

  “I’m gonna eat the flesh right off you, Kaycee. I’m gonna savor every little bite.” He licked his lips. “I’m hungry for you, woman. I can’t wait to gnaw on your bones.”

  He came closer.

  Jace grunted and struggled to rise to his feet.

  “No,” Kaycee snapped. “Stay down.” She slid her arm around his waist and allowed the gun to rest on his stomach. “When he gets close enough,” she whispered, “I have a gun.”

  Jace nodded weakly. A faint grin curved his lips. “That’s my girl. Make the first bullet count,” he said.

  His voice sounded so weak to her, weak and raspy. “You might not get a second chance.”

  Kaycee bit her bottom lip. Lord, she didn’t know if she could shoot Smitt or not. She’d never shot anything or anyone. She prayed for strength to do what needed doing.

  “You’re going to be sorry you ever let another man touch you, Kaycee,” Smitt Davis continued, coming closer. He held up a long piece of paper. “This here marriage license, it don’t mean squat.” He ripped the paper in half and let the two halves drop to the ground. You belong to me, girlie. You belonged to me the minute I saw you on that horse that summer day. I marked you then, and I’ve bided my time. I been a patient man, waiting for you, but the wait’s over now.”

  Smitt stopped some distance away, the rifle slung over his shoulder.

  “Come on, you bastard,” Kaycee whispered. “Closer.”

  “I won’t tell you again, girlie. Get away from him.”

  “If you want me, come and get me, you sonofabitch,” she challenged. She spit the blatant dare at him. “Closer,” she muttered softly.

  Jace groaned. “Don’t, baby. He’ll kill you.”

  He was going to kill both of them anyway, she thought. She’d rather go down fighting. She felt Jace’s blood seeping into her jeans. His chest heaved. His breathing grew more labored with each breath he struggled to draw. It had to end soon or Jace would bleed to death or drown in his own blood.

  Smitt Davis took several steps toward her and made the fatal error of coming within range. He raised the rifle in his hand and leveled it on Jace. “Move away, girlie. Move away or I’ll kill you both right here and now.”

  Kaycee jerked up the pistol with a trembling hand. Her hands quivered so badly the gun shook. Her finger was slick with Jace’s blood. Slowly, she jerked hard on the trigger.

  The shot fell wide of its mark.

  Jace stretched up his left arm and locked his fingers around her wrist. “Squeeze the trigger, darlin,’” he said faintly. “Nice and slow.”

  Smitt leaped to one side, halting along the edge of the cliff. He froze, lowered the rifle. His lips twisted with an evil, macabre grin that revealed the rows of needle sharp teeth. “You won’t shoot me, girlie. No woman has the guts to fight me. You all whimper, cry, and beg me to stop when I’m pounding between your legs.”

  His grin spread across his mouth reminding her of a ghoul. “You should have heard Jillian when I fucked her the second time. I’d already split her belly wide open when I came inside her. She screamed, girlie. Screamed and begged me to stop hurting her. And Rodney, super-stud Blake, you’d thought I cut him wide open with the first slice to his belly, but no, I only cut him a little, then I lopped of his dick and stuffed it in his mouth so he couldn’t beg anymore. Didn’t want to hear his pissy-ass whimpers.”

  A dreamy look crossed his face. He rubbed his crotch.

  Kaycee saw his chest rise and fall, faster and faster, heard his deep ragged breaths. God, he was a sick fuck. He got turned on talking about the evil acts he’d committed.

  “You shoulda seen the look on Lacey Blackstone’s face when I shot her the first time. My cock rose when I saw her blood. The second bullet really whacked her good, knocked her flat on her back, right where I wanted her. I sliced her clothes off her, nice and slow, and then I cut her. I cut her good. I carved my initials on both her tits. My dick got so fucking hard, I thought I’d explode. I came on her. I left my marks and my scent all over her body. I killed the baby in her, killed it good, just like my grandma killed the baby inside my mama. Lacey belongs to me, now. She’ll always be one of mine.”

  He focused his gaze on Kaycee and grinned. “I sucked her tits before she died. She had nice, sweet tasting tits, sweet enough to make me lose my load, but not as sweet as your tits, Kaycee, never as sweet as yours.” He stared off in the distance again, his gaze unfocused. “She begged me to stop, too, just like all the others. But I didn’t stop until I was good and ready. I’m never going to stop. You’ll beg me to stop too, girlie. But I won’t. I’m coming for you, Kaycee, just like I came for all the others.”

  Kaycee drew in a deep breath, held it, and squeezed the trigger. The gun jerked in her hands. The bullet slammed into a tree behind Smitt spraying chips of bark in all directions.

  “Damn it,” she cried.

  Smitt grinned and licked his lips in anticipation. He held his arms out to his sides. “I’m invincible, Kaycee. I’m a god. No bullet can stop me. No one can stop me. I’m gonna fuck you, girlie.” He took a step closer, dropped his arms to his sides, then raised the rifle and aimed it at Kaycee. “Don’t make me shoot you, girlie. I’ll shoot you just like I shot Lacey Blackstone, and I’ll fuck you all the while you’re bleeding, just like I fucked her.”

  Jace tightened his fingers on Kaycee’s wrist, guided her, and kept her hands steady.

  “Now” he whispered. “Kill the fucker, now.”

  Kaycee squeezed the trigger a third time. The bullet slammed into Smitt’s chest dead center. The rifle slipped from his fingers and
clattered to the ground.

  He staggered back, went down on one knee, but rose back up. “I’m coming for you, Kaycee.”

  Kaycee aimed, fired a fourth round. The bullet smacked him in the upper left shoulder. Blood sprayed through the air in a fine mist.

  Smitt Davis gave a bloodcurdling scream.

  Chills raced down her spine as he kept coming toward her.

  “Oh, God,” she whimpered. “Please, God, make him stop.”

  She pulled the trigger again. It shaved the side of his head. His steps faltered. He staggered back a few steps.

  Kaycee saw his arms wind-milling as he tried to maintain his balance. His terrified screams reverberated through the air as he stumbled again and went over the side of the cliff. She flung down her gun and quickly turned Jace to his side.

  Her jeans were saturated with his blood. She stuffed more pieces of her shirt into the gaping wound.

  “Can you stand up?” she asked urgently. Silence surrounded her. She couldn’t hear his raspy breaths. “Jace.” Her voice sounded shrill to her ears. It snagged him back from the edge of unconsciousness. Relief flooded her body clear to her soul. “I have to get you up and to the Jeep.”

  He nodded, closing his eyes.

  She heard his grunt.

  She didn’t know if moving him or helping him to sit up was a good idea or not.

  Maybe she was doing him more harm than good.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, tears swimming in her eyes.

  A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “It’sallright.” He ran the words together in a drunken slur.

  Kaycee blinked, trying to see the ground through the blur of her tears. “Please, God, help me.”

  The monumental task of getting him to his feet was almost more than she could handle. Jace was no light weight. She had to support most of his weight and one thing Jace Remington wasn’t, was a small man. She stumbled as they headed toward the Jeep.

  “Get help,” Jace said, leaning heavily against her.

  “I’m not leaving you!”

  He slanted a glance at her. He must have read the determination on her face because he clenched his teeth and gave a short jerk of his head.

 

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