Acres, Natalie - Bridled and Bucked [Bridled 3] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme)

by Natalie Acres

  “They won’t need to!” Lynlee screamed, already halfway across the master bedroom before Lantry or anyone else realized she’d slipped away.

  “What the fuck?” Lantry screamed, trailing her. “Lynlee! You get back here! Dallas! Austin! Somebody stop her!” Lantry flew down the hallway, jumped over the banister, tumbled down the top portion of steps, and leapt to the floor about the time she shot toward the back of the house.

  No man alive was a match for Lynlee’s speed, and Lantry knew it. Doubling over, he had to take a moment he didn’t have in order to catch his breath. Carlisle rushed by him.

  “She’s outside,” Lantry said, breathless, propelling his arm in the direction she’d taken.

  “Lynlee!” Carlisle shouted. “Damn it to hell! He’s gonna kill you! He’s already killed Tara!”

  “What?” Blaine asked, following behind Carlisle and Lantry. “How the fuck do you know that?”

  Carlisle never answered. Lantry didn’t ask again. There wasn’t time. There were other pressing concerns. If Carlisle said Tara was dead, then he knew without a doubt, she was gone. How he came by that information wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered now was saving those who mattered most.

  * * * *

  Lynlee stopped three or four steps shy of reaching the man holding a gun to Casey McCain’s head. “I’m here,” she announced. “You can let him go now.”

  “Ah, Lynlee,” Casey McCain said, his voice full of regrets. His eyes watered, and she saw the compassion burning in his eyes, as well as the heartache. Apparently, he realized her fate was sealed. That was okay, Lynlee decided on a spared second. She’d lived a good life. She’d been loved well.

  “Casey,” she whispered, tilting her head, watching as the man behind the gun lit up, his expression one of complete satisfaction. In matters of winning and losing, there was no doubt. This man felt like a champion.

  “I’m here, I said,” she whispered, thinking she’d used poor judgment. Wasn’t he supposed to let Casey go if she showed her face? “You can release him now.”

  The man took a deep breath. He narrowed his gaze and provided a wicked grin, probably the most evil she’d ever seen in her life. He was missing a few teeth, his skin was aged beyond his possible years, and he looked like a heavy drug user or just plain crazy.

  With glassy eyes, his empty gaze held proof. The man had no conscience, no soul. His eyes were as cold as the winter river, but a pretty blue that reminded Lynlee of a South Pacific sky. She didn’t want to go to her grave with that last comparison. She didn’t want to die at all.

  “Let him go,” she stated firmly, trying to find her inner strength. “I’ll go with you and you can leave Casey here with his sons.”

  “Yes, you will go with me for sure. You are so much like the other one, by the way.”

  Lynlee recalled how she handled maniacs in the past. She kept them talking. “What other one?” she asked, assuming he meant Tara.

  He snarled. “Don’t act as if you don’t know.”

  “I don’t,” she assured him. “Do you think these men around here tell me things to scare me?” Her eyes met Casey’s. He lifted his gaze toward the second story of the house, apparently watching for one of his sons.

  A diabolical laugh fell from the man’s lips. “You’re just like her!” he screamed, acting as if she’d angered him in some way. “You’re nothing more than a glorified whore hiding behind the McCain name and money. That’s what you are! They made Tara work for her money, dressed her up in heels and a suit, but she was a slut all the same.

  “Tara was McCain property just as you are and she had to be laid to rest. As Lee Marks once said, they all have to be put out of their misery so they can’t taint the lives of those they later encounter.”

  Lynlee swallowed hard. In that moment, she noticed a red dot shining on the man’s forehead. Casey narrowed his eyes. Lynlee moved three paces to the right, allowing whoever was behind her to take their shot.

  “Do you know how long I’ve waited to meet you?” he asked, loosening his grip around Casey’s neck as he spoke to Lynlee.

  “No,” she said quietly. “Tell me.”

  “It’s been a long time, Lynlee. I lived with Lee for a few months, watched as he planned how he would abduct you. I learned from him.” He paused, released a growl that sounded animalistic and would likely haunt her all the days of her life. “And then you escaped him.”

  “I wanted to live,” Lynlee explained.

  “You wanted to embarrass him!” he screamed, the rage pulsing in his heavily veined neck. “You wanted him to be the hunted rather than the hunter! You set out to destroy him and now you must be eliminated!”

  The enraged lunatic raised his arm, aimed, and shots were fired all around them. Lynlee gulped, stood there staring straight ahead as a man she didn’t know lay listlessly in a pool of blood. Casey ran to her, cradled her in his arms and sheltered her. “Hurry up, Lynlee. Get in the car.”

  Lynlee looked up at Casey. “You’re okay?”

  “It’ll take more than somebody like that fella to bring this old man down.” A second later, he ran his fingertip across the tip of her nose. “Apparently it’s gonna take a lot to keep you down, too.”

  “I couldn’t let you die.”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t your place to make sure I stayed alive. That’s why you have several men around here. They’re supposed to protect you.” He hugged her. “Now come on, let’s get you out of here until the boys secure this place.”

  He escorted her to the car and opened the door. About that time, Carlisle rushed them. “Looks as if everyone survived here. Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” Casey snapped, obviously irritated about something. Lynlee didn’t have to guess what put Casey’s undies in a bundle.

  “The other guy got away. He stole one of the four-wheelers. Dallas and Austin tracked him to the barn in the lower fields. He’s definitely one of the guys who showed up here earlier today. He went straight for the shed again. He got away.”

  Casey snarled. “Mind to tell me why that tunnel wasn’t closed off this afternoon?”

  Carlisle looked at Lynlee.

  Casey shook his head. “Don’t answer that. And if you do, don’t you dare point your finger at Lynlee. You’re a big boy now, Carlisle. You know what’s important.”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied, winking at Lynlee. “And I always try my best to prioritize.”

  Chapter Eight

  Casey McCain sat at the head of the table. It was after two o’clock in the morning, but he didn’t care. When Casey had something on his mind, he cleared it so he could sleep better. Besides, he was pretty put out about right then. The Lynlee situation had gotten out of hand. He wanted these boys to feel his fury, see his rage.

  After Lantry returned with Jose, their longtime trusted friend and farm manager, Casey had sent him upstairs to guard Lynlee. Until he had a little powwow with his boys and Rhett, who was as much a son to him as his own flesh and blood, Jose could sit by her bedside.

  He might be there all evening.

  “All right,” Casey began. “Someone want to tell me what happened here? How in the hell did Lynlee slip past you? Do you have any idea what that idiot planned to do to her?”

  Lantry, always the one to go up against him without reservations, glared at him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and said, “I take full responsibility. She got by me. I was talking and didn’t notice her when she slipped out of the bathroom.”

  Casey narrowed his gaze on his son. “Full responsibility, huh? Who were you talking to?”

  Blaine cleared his throat. “He was talking to me.”

  “I was there, too, Casey,” Rhett admitted. “We’re all to blame here. We should’ve kept a better eye on her.”

  Casey stared at Houston. “Where were you? Standing in front of the mirror primping?”

  “No, sir,” Houston bit out, never looking him in the eye.

  “Look at me when I talk to you, son,”
Casey ordered.

  “In our defense, we never thought about Lynlee running,” Blaine said, making somewhat of an excuse and an obvious attempt to steer him away from badgering Houston, even though he probably deserved it.

  Houston never had the drive the others had. He should’ve been with Lynlee, too, but if Casey cared to guess, Houston was probably hiding somewhere.

  “Maybe Blaine didn’t think she’d run, but I knew she had it in her,” Lantry said, overriding whatever further explanation his brother wanted to supply. He smiled, unable to conceal the obvious pride he held for Lynlee. “She’s loyal, Pops. She isn’t one to stand around and let us take care of her. She’s the kind of gal who never says die. You ought to know that about her.”

  “I do,” he said, unable to mask his proud moment. The threat was lifted, at least for the time being, so he might as well take pleasure in a little family pride. Lynlee was family. Her mother would sure be proud of her.

  “Dad, what happened to Tara?” Austin asked.

  Casey bowed his head. He’d known Tara on a personal level. She’d eaten meals in his home, shopped with his wife, and in fact, Victoria once thought she would eventually be one of their daughters-in-law. That was, of course, prior to their discovery. The only daughter-in-law they were destined to have was a girl they’d known and loved since she was a child.

  “Dad?” Royce pressed.

  Casey took a deep breath. “Tara picked him up.”

  “What?” Carlisle asked, arching a brow. “Did you get a good look at that guy?”

  “Yes,” Casey replied, regrettably. “He had a few disguises. They were pretty good, which if you’ll remember is something the original Beaches and LakeSerial Killer was noted for as well. Anyway, she went out the night she was abducted. I talked to her before...” He cleared his throat and it was an effort to continue. “I talked to Tara before he killed her. We were both held in a basement for a few hours.”

  “And she told you she picked him up?” Carlisle asked, his eyes watering.

  “Yes, son,” Casey said. “Tara wasn’t the woman you thought she was, Carlisle. She had certain fetishes, admitted them to me in fact. She was frequenting some of the underground clubs around the country. Whenever she wasn’t working, she was flying to New York or driving to Atlanta. She said she met David Fink—which was the guy’s name, by the way—in Atlanta.

  “Turns out, he’s been planning this attack on our family for months. He planned to kill Carlisle, me, Lynlee, and Tara.” A few seconds later, he added, “Lantry, from what Tara said, he admired you. He planned to let you live, but wanted to see you suffer.”

  Lantry chuckled. “I’d be honored if I didn’t think there was another crazy fuck out there just like him.”

  Casey nodded. “That’s why we’re meeting now. The guy you’re looking for is Fink’s accomplice. His name is Paul Gentry. He’ll follow Fink’s plans right down to the letter, just like David Fink followed Lee Marks.”

  “Is this ever gonna end?” Dallas asked.

  “Maybe,” Casey replied. “Keep in mind, the less publicity, the better off we are. These guys want the spotlight. They want the media’s attention. We need to set him up and wait for him to come to us. By the way, can someone tell me why that damned tunnel wasn’t closed off after you discovered it was there in the first place?”

  Houston shrugged. “We had other things to do.”

  “Like?” Casey asked.

  “Lynlee,” Lantry said, snickering.

  Casey started to say something, but thought better of it. He’d been there before himself. He remembered being lovesick at least once in his life, too.

  In fact, he’d once adored Lynlee’s mother. She was the light in his life. In some ways, he felt like he had a second chance when his boys took up with Lynlee. He couldn’t love her mother because she belonged to another, but he could cherish her daughter and make sure his sons gave Lynlee the kind of life she deserved.

  A deep sadness washed over him then. He thought of Lynlee’s mother often. She haunted him. Before she died, she was the kind of woman who could’ve gotten him to do anything. He’d avoided a lot of work himself back in those days. Besides, who would’ve thought Fink and Gentry would’ve returned so soon?

  Casey stood. “Your mother is alone. I left her at a resort in West Palm Beach. I want to get back to her. She doesn’t need to be by herself. That said, I’m leaving Lynlee in your hands. I want her safe. There are eight of you and one of her. Surely to God, you fellows can keep up with her.”

  Blaine shrugged. “I never could.”

  “That’s why you have your brothers around to help you now,” Casey said, shooting Rhett a grin. “And him.”

  Rhett chuckled. “Casey, we won’t let you down again.”

  “See that you don’t,” Casey retorted. “I’m afraid if Gentry ever comes back here, he’ll shoot first, boast later. Fink was a blowhard. Thank goodness. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be standing here now. Fortunately for me and Lynlee, he wanted to talk about what he planned to do beforehand.

  “Gentry is a different breed. He’s quiet. He’s like a damn panther. He’ll sneak up on you before you see him and strike before you have time to draw your weapon. Mark it down. He’s the toughest opponent you’ve ever had. If he gets anywhere near Lynlee, he’ll kill her, and make no mistake, before he does, he’ll take out every one of you.

  “This guy is after the big score. He’s looking to make a name for himself. Let’s make sure the name he uses to get his ten seconds of fame isn’t McCain.”

  * * * *

  Casey was picked up by a helicopter an hour later, and Rhett stared out the window watching as the older McCain hunched under the spinning blades, making his way toward the transportation he’d arranged. Rhett rubbed his temples as the helicopter disappeared a few minutes later, and he wondered then if anyone else was out there watching, lurking close enough to see Casey McCain’s departure. He wondered, too, if Paul Gentry knew his partner had died there.

  Turning to Lantry, he said, “Did you call the local police?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Mind if I ask why?” Rhett asked.

  “Strategy,” Lantry replied, opening his laptop. There, on the dining room table, Lantry went to work.

  Houston said, “The idea is to keep this under wraps until Gentry resurfaces.”

  “So you’re certain he’ll try again soon?” Rhett asked, arching his brow and studying Jose as he descended from the second floor.

  “And just where do you think you’re going?” Dallas asked, deliberately teasing the older man.

  “We sleep,” he announced, rubbing his eyes. “Mrs. McCain is resting. We rest, too. Tomorrow is a new day to kill people.”

  Lantry chuckled. Without looking up, he said, “Jose, maybe later today is a good day to kill people. I’d like to think tomorrow we’ll have all this behind us.”

  Jose nodded. “Where you put the dead one?”

  Jose’s English was still a little rusty. Rhett sometimes wondered how Jose had made a life for himself among the McCains. They were a difficult bunch, but they liked their farm manager and thanks to them, Jose and his family—those living in the States and in Mexico—enjoyed the benefits of a nice living. Still, it must’ve been confusing for him when he first gained employment with the McCain family. He’d dodged a lot of bullets in his lifetime and occasionally, he picked up a gun and defended the family he’d come to think of as his own.

  Carlisle studied Lantry. “He asked you a question.”

  Lantry shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Jose. Have a good night, okay?”

  “Yes. You, too, Mr. McCain. I see all of you in the morning.”

  Lantry glanced up once he left. He locked gazes with Austin and then shook his head.

  Rhett cleared his throat. “Where, by chance, did you put the body?”

  Royce leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. “I let Lantry handle that. He and Austin can dispose of the dead easi
er than I can.”

  “Oh right,” Lantry said, typing. “You kill ’em, and we hide the evidence.”

  “Don’t ask me to apologize for taking him out,” Royce said. “That’s what you told me to do.”

  “I would’ve preferred it if you’d left him alive. Maybe then we’d know how many more of these guys are out there,” Lantry said, his fingers swiftly moving over the keyboard.

  Royce snarled. “Look, I didn’t get up yesterday morning, peer in the mirror and say to myself, ‘it’s a fine day to kill someone.’ Now I’m sorry I didn’t do things the way you thought I should have but you know what, I’m not the one who runs around here acting like a rebel without a cause. I hate that I couldn’t keep your witness alive, but quite frankly, I’m not sorry he’s dead.

  “I protected my home and my woman. I did what anyone would’ve done when danger knocks on their door. I took up arms and defended my own. For the record, I didn’t need the great Lantry McCain to tell me to do it. And I damn sure don’t feel guilty.”

  Lantry pushed away from the table and crossed his arms. “Good. I’m glad to hear it because you may have to pull the trigger again. This is just beginning.” He nodded toward the computer. “Dad was wrong. Paul Gentry is a braggart. He’s posted all over the social networking sites that he’ll pay half a million for Lynlee’s head.”

  “What?” Blaine screeched.

  “Take a look for yourself.” Lantry pushed the computer toward the end of the table. “Apparently, this Gentry character is the true protégé of Lee Marks. He wants to recruit others just like him so he’s doing precisely what Marks did before he died. He’s recruiting other murderers so in the event of the death he expects, there will be more madmen coming right behind him.”

  “Shit,” Royce said.

  “So I’m glad you don’t have any guilt, big brother,” Lantry said. “And I’m damn thankful you’re a good shot.”

  Royce waggled his brows and pointed upstairs. “I think Jose was right. We need some rest.”