Protect and Serve (Stripped Down Prequel Book 3)

by Sabrina York

  “We’re going to Las Vegas,” he said. God, he sounded so excited, as though this were a long-anticipated vacation rather than a kidnapping.

  “Vegas?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled at her. “We’re eloping.” He patted her hand—though she jerked away—and then hit the accelerator again, sending the truck shooting forward…away from everything Claire loved.

  And damn it all. No one had any idea where she was.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What the hell do you mean, Claire is missing?” Charlie wasn’t sure, but it felt like one of the vessels in his brain exploded. His vision went red and tiny stars danced. He glared at Cody and Cade through the mist. “You were supposed to be watching her.”

  “We have lives too,” Cody bellowed.

  “Stop it. This is not helping.” Lisa, the only apparent voice of reason, stepped between them. “Let’s go over the facts. Okay?” She waited until all the men nodded, though they were reluctant nods. “Claire is gone, but her car is still here.”

  “And her purse?” Charlie asked. That was one of the first things investigators looked for in a disappearance. If she’d left her purse—his blood curdled at the thought.

  “Gone.”

  Relief sluiced through him, but not for long. That was hardly a guarantee of anything. “So someone came here and took her away. And she went willingly.”

  “How do you figure?” Cade asked.

  “No sign of forced entry. No sign of a struggle. She took her purse.” He frowned at Lisa. “Who could it have been? Porsche maybe?”

  “We called Porsche. She’s in Dallas with Crystal.” Ford’s fiancée was Porsche’s boss. The two ran an internet jewelry business.

  “Hanna? Sidney?” He went through a list of all her friends. Each was quickly struck from the list.

  Charlie raked his hair and paced the room, trying to think of anyone, someone Claire might have gone with. But the fact that she hadn’t called her brothers to let them know where she was going, or left a note or anything, was disturbing. Her brothers insisted she was religious about keeping them updated on what she was up to. She wasn’t answering any of her calls—not even from him.

  His gaze fell on the roses in the crystal vase on the table and a knot formed in his belly. He and Claire had posited ideas about who might have sent them, but the only name they had come up with as a possibility was Dustin.

  As soon as that bastard’s name entered his mind, he knew. Somehow, he just knew. With a snarl, he pulled out his cell phone and called Bubba’s.

  “What is it?” Lisa asked, but he set a hand on her shoulder rather than respond. He didn’t think he had the capacity for a civil response.

  As he suspected, Dustin hadn’t shown up for work tonight.

  Charlie ended the call and sent a dark look around the room. “I’m going into town.” He would find Dustin—and Claire—come hell or high water.

  “I’m going with you,” Cody said.

  “Me too.” Cade leaped to his feet.

  “And me!” Lisa cried.

  Charlie frowned at her. “Someone should be here. You know. In case she comes back.” Or in case there was a call. He doubted Dustin was looking for ransom if he’d taken Claire, but they didn’t know for sure it was him. There was always the possibility that something else had happened. “You will be our EIC.”

  Lisa blinked. “EIC?”

  “Emergency Information Center. Okay?”

  She nodded, but her eyes were wide.

  “You’ll be great,” he said to ease her fear. “We need you here.”

  Cade kissed Lisa, soothing her more, and then the three men headed out in a convoy, barreling toward Snake Gully. Dustin’s house was their first stop. He lived in the older section of town in a house his mother had left him. Thankfully, he had roommates, so Charlie didn’t need to bother with a warrant. They let him in, and when he asked to look around, they were more than happy to oblige.

  Probably something to do with the heavy scent of marijuana on the air, though they lit incense in an attempt to cover it.

  But all Charlie could discern in his search was that Dustin’s truck was gone and he’d taken some clothes. His roommates had no idea where he’d gone or when he’d left. They were decidedly unhelpful.

  After their thorough search, he and Claire’s brothers met back in the foyer.

  They were utterly at a loss.

  With every passing minute, Charlie’s angst rose. His heart thudded at the thought that he might have, that he could have, lost her.

  He’d just found her. He couldn’t let her go.

  Not now.

  Where on earth was she? If only there was a way to—

  He froze as one of their earlier conversations echoed back to him. He glanced at Cody and Cade. “Claire has you on GPS, right?”

  Cody nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Do you have her on GPS too?”

  The brothers froze and exchanged a glance. “Shit, why didn’t we think of that?” Cade muttered.

  They both pulled out their phones and Cody’s eyes went wide. “What the hell?” he spurted as he stared at his screen.

  “What’s she doing in Amarillo?” Cade showed Charlie his phone, indicating a ping to the northwest of Dallas.

  “I don’t know, but by God, I’m finding out. Let’s go.”

  “Where to?” Cade asked.

  “To the station. I’m going to see about requisitioning a chopper.” They couldn’t drive to Amarillo fast enough to catch up with Claire—and whomever she was with—but a Huey could make the run in a fraction of the time. On the way, he got on the phone and called in a couple favors with friends in the Amarillo area, so he’d have access to a vehicle when he got there. He also put out an APB on Dustin’s plates, hoping that someone might spot them on the road and radio in.

  It took some doing, but it wasn’t long before Charlie, Cody and Cade were settled in a chopper on loan from the state troopers and on their way through the murky night toward Amarillo.

  No one spoke for the entire trip. They were all far too tense. Testosterone surged through the tiny cabin, and occasionally Cody or Cade would growl something, making the pilot shoot them concerned glances.

  God help Dustin when they caught him.

  He would be lucky to survive.

  Claire wasn’t sure how she slept—as Dustin drove on through the night—but she did. When she awoke, it was dark. It took a second for her to remember what had happened and when she did, new fury raced through her. She knew she was all alone in this. If she was to escape, she’d have to do it on her own.

  The road they were on was sparsely traveled. Only a few taillights were visible, and those were far away. She saw the glow of a gas station on the horizon and flicked a look at her captor. “I have to pee.”

  She did, but that was hardly the point.

  He frowned at her. “Hold it.”

  Hold it? Hold it? “Is that any way to treat a woman you claim to love?”

  “I don’t claim to love you, Claire. I do.”

  “Bullshit.”

  This earned her another frown. “My wife does not use profanity.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m not your fucking wife then, isn’t it?”

  He sent her a sad look and shook his head. “You’ll learn.” When he pulled over to the side of the road, she was elated—she was sure if she could break away, she could outrun him and hide in the brush—but he didn’t let her out of the truck. Rather he scrounged around in the back until he found what he was looking for.

  He presented it to her with something of a challenge in his eyes and the sight of it terrified her.

  It was a roll of duct tape.

  Holding her gaze—perhaps enjoying her dread—he ripped off a length and wrapped it around her wrists. It was nothing like when Charlie had done it. There was nothing gentle or consensual about this and she loathed it with a passion. She’d always hated being dominated by overbearing men and this was no differ
ent.

  “You son of a bitch,” she spat, immediately lifting her wrists to her mouth to rip the tape off with her teeth. But before she could, he settled another strip over her mouth.

  He studied her for a moment as she fought against the bonds and screamed muffled curses into the tape. “You see?” he said, after a while. “My wife does not use profanities.” His tone was pedantic. As though this had been a lesson.

  And indeed. Maybe it had been.

  She’d learned one thing for sure. Dustin was batshit insane.

  The question was, how would she escape him now?

  Chapter FIFTEEN

  The first thing Charlie did when they landed in Amarillo was check Claire’s GPS again—even though he’d been checking it all along. It was satisfying to see that her marker was close. She was on I-40, heading west. The three of them piled into a cruiser with his friend Henry, who had agreed to help out.

  He hadn’t seen Henry since his first tour in Iraq, but some relationships didn’t need a lot of bolstering, especially not after what they’d been through. Either one of them would have dropped everything to help the other. That’s just the way it was. Still, he offered his friend a grateful smile as Henry started the engine. “Thanks again for this,” he said in a gruff tone.

  “No worries,” Henry said, glancing over his shoulder at Cade and Cody in the back. “You all got your seat belts on?”

  It was amusing, watching the brothers scramble for them. It was also fun seeing them in the back of the cruiser behind the cage.

  “So what are we looking for?” Henry asked as they pulled out of the state trooper complex and onto the freeway.

  Charlie gave him a quick description of Dustin’s truck.

  “And you’re sure there’s been foul play here?”

  Even as he nodded, Cody and Cade both said, “Damn straight.”

  “If she is with Dustin, she would not have gone willingly.” In his heart of hearts, he hoped he’d misread the situation, but he couldn’t fathom why else she would be way out here in Amarillo, not answering her phone. Also, his gut was rarely wrong. And he knew she was in danger. Knew.

  Henry flicked a look at him, one that was far too inquisitive. “And who is this girl?” he asked in an undertone.

  Charlie cleared his throat. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I’ve never seen you so worked up.”

  He drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. It didn’t work. “She’s…Claire.” That was it. That said it all. His Claire.

  “Right. But who is she to you?”

  He stared ahead; the taillights before him blurred. “She’s the woman I love, Henry. I don’t have to get her back. I need to.”

  “Ah.”

  Yeah. That said it all.

  Or not.

  Cody leaned forward, nearly smashing his nose against the perp grate, and clipped, “What did you say?” He frowned at Cade. “Did you hear what he said?”

  “I heard what he said. He said he loves Claire.”

  “You love Claire? Love her?”

  Charlie frowned at him. “Yes. I love her.”

  Cody blinked. He looked at Cade again, as though he just couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea. “He loves her? What do you think that means?”

  Cade huffed a laugh. “I think it means he loves her.”

  “As in loves her, loves her?”

  “Probably. He did say he loved her. And he seemed pretty sincere.”

  “But—”

  “I love her,” Charlie snapped. “I am in love with her. Head over heels. I want her to be my wife. I want to see her face every morning when I wake up. I want her in my arms every night. I want a family with her, lots of children.” He paused, but only for a second because it looked like Cody was fixing to say something else, probably something stupid. “And most of all, I want her to move in with me. Into my house. I want her to sleep in my bed. Eat at my table. Destroy my kitchen.”

  The brothers gaped at him. They exchanged a glance and, in tandem, they grinned.

  “Well, okay then,” Cody said. “Let’s go get her.”

  But there was no going to get her. When Charlie glanced at the GPS again, she was right there. His head shot up and he began scanning the cars ahead of them. His heart jerked when he saw a dusty black Ford in the next lane. “There.” He pointed. “Can you get closer so we can check the plates?”

  Henry nodded and changed lanes, coming up behind the truck. Charlie’s stomach knotted when he recognized the license number, but not so much as it did when he saw a flash of light glint off Claire’s hair.

  “It’s him,” he said, his teeth gritted. “And she’s in the cab too.”

  “Be careful,” Cade said. “Don’t spook him.”

  The last thing they needed was a high-speed chase with Claire at risk.

  But apparently, having a cruiser behind him was enough to spook Dustin. He veered into the right lane and headed for the upcoming exit ramp.

  Henry followed. He flicked on his lights before Dustin reached the ramp, but the truck didn’t pull over. Then again, Charlie didn’t expect it to. Not if Dustin was up to no good.

  And he was.

  He floored it.

  The truck took off on the arterial and Henry pulled in behind him with his siren wailing. Because Dustin hadn’t pulled over, Henry was justified in calling for backup, so he did and got a response from troopers near Vega, Texas.

  Charlie’s heart was in his throat as they followed the truck. He could see Claire’s form in the cab, but couldn’t make out her features until they passed a streetlamp and her face was illuminated in a flash.

  Horror crawled through him when he realized there was duct tape on her mouth. It was validation that she was in peril, though he hardly needed it. His soul had known. “Faster,” he snapped.

  Henry frowned. “They’re not going to get away, Charlie,” he said, “and we want to make sure Claire is safe.”

  He snarled in frustration, but Henry was right. Dustin was heading straight for a roadblock, and they were in hot pursuit. Anything more might cause him to do something desperate. If Dustin did something desperate, Claire could be hurt…and he couldn’t bear that.

  But to his surprise, after a couple miles the truck began to decelerate with no warning. Henry slammed on the brakes to keep from hitting it. When Dustin pulled over to the side of the road, Henry stopped behind him and got out of the cruiser with his gun drawn.

  Charlie did as well and they flanked the truck.

  Before Henry reached the driver’s side, the door opened and Dustin barreled out. With barely a glance at Henry, he bolted into the shadowed scrub.

  “Freeze,” Henry bellowed and, when Dustin ignored him, he bolted after him. Sounds of a scuffle echoed across the empty plain, followed by a dull thud and Dustin’s howl.

  “Do you have him?” Charlie called.

  “Got him,” his friend responded in a victorious tone. “You go get your girl.”

  Without hesitation, Charlie holstered his weapon and ran to the truck, wrenching the door open. He froze and stared at Claire, her hair askew, her eyes red with tears, her beautiful mouth covered in duct tape. She was so gorgeous and perfect and dear it made something deep inside him liquefy. He yanked her into his arms and held her tight. “Claire. Claire. Claire. Thank God you’re okay.” He pulled back and stared at her. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

  “Mufm merfs,” she said. And all of a sudden he remembered it was difficult to be understood through duct tape. Carefully, he removed it, trying not to hurt her.

  “There you go, my darling. Are you okay?”

  “I am so glad to see you. I can’t tell you.”

  “Me too. Thank God he stopped.” And then, “Why did he stop?”

  She snorted. “He ran out of gas. He was so intent on getting me to Las Vegas, he wouldn’t pull over anywhere.”

  “Vegas?” Something rippled up his spine. “Why Vegas?”

  “Because he
intended to marry me, of course.”

  He gaped at her. “Marry you?”

  “You needn’t sound so shocked. I’m not that old.”

  “Old?” Where on earth had that idea come from? “Who said you’re old?”

  She ignored his question with a sniff. “And some people do want to marry me, you know.”

  He growled. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. I was just shocked that he thought you would marry him when you’re obviously in love with me.”

  She blinked. “I am?” The question should have gutted him, but her hint of a smile saved him.

  “Yes. You are. And you are going to marry me.”

  “Oh, am I?”

  “I think so. But not Vegas. A church wedding.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “They have churches in Vegas.”

  He eyed her. “Are you saying you want to be married in Vegas?”

  “No. You’re the one who brought Vegas up.”

  He hadn’t brought Vegas up, she had—but he didn’t see the point of arguing about it. “Where do you want to be married?”

  “At home, of course. But you know what I’d really like?” This she asked sweetly with a shy flutter of lashes.

  “What, my darling? Anything.”

  “I’d like to be married not wearing duct tape.” She held up her wrists. “Do you mind?”

  He pulled out his knife and sliced her bonds. That bastard had tied her so tight there were ligature marks. Right there on her delicate skin. He stroked her with a thumb. “I’ll kill him.”

  Claire cupped his cheek and tipped his head up so she could see his face. “How on earth did you find me? I thought for sure I was on my own.”

  “We tracked your cell phone.”

  “Oh my God, my cell phone.” For some reason she pulled out of his arms and went on her knees on the seat and riffled around in the back. When she plopped down again, with a sigh, she had her cell phone clutched in her hands. “The bastard took it from me.”

  Suddenly he had the burning desire to get her the hell out of this truck. “Come on. Let’s go to the cruiser. Your brothers will want to see you’re okay.”