Beyond Control

by Kat Martin

  She felt Josh’s hand at her waist and looked up to see a possessive gleam in his eyes. She could still recall the stunned look on his face when she had walked out of the double-wide onto the porch where he was waiting.

  Clearly, she needed to exchange her T-shirts and jeans for a sexy skirt and blouse more often.

  “Stay close,” he said softly. “Half the guys in here are undressing you with their eyes and the other half are trying to figure a way to get you in bed.”

  She flushed. Surely he was kidding. But when she looked around, she caught several openly admiring glances.

  “This way.” Josh urged her toward a table off to one side. She almost didn’t recognize Carly and Linc, who wore black leather as easily as expensive business suits.

  They rose as she and Josh approached. Carly gave her a hug and Linc kissed her cheek. “So he finally let you out of the house,” Linc said, his massive biceps straining the sleeves of the snug black T-shirt beneath his black leather vest. “I thought maybe he had you chained to the bed.”

  The heat returned to her cheeks. Carly elbowed him, and he grinned, digging sexy indentations into his cheeks.

  “Ignore him,” she said, but she grinned back. Lincoln Cain was impressive, no doubt about it. But no more so than his wicked-hot, blue-eyed brother.

  “Tag’s over there with Baldy, Wolf, and Lenny.” Linc pointed to a group of bikers sitting a few tables away. She could read the name ASPHALT DEMONS on the back of a vest worn by a blond biker with his hair pulled into a ponytail.

  A guy with shoulder-length shaggy brown hair got up and strode toward them, pulled out a chair, spun it around, and sat down facing them.

  He turned to Josh. “Hey, bro, good to see you.”

  “You too, Tag.” Josh introduced Tory. Linc ordered another pitcher of beer and more glasses.

  The drinks were served by a busty, big-haired blonde who was eyeing Josh like a juicy piece of meat. If he noticed, he didn’t encourage her. Tory ignored a bubble of jealousy she pretended not to feel.

  Linc poured glasses of beer for her and Josh, and filled a glass for Tag.

  “Linc says you’ve had some trouble,” Tag said to Josh, taking a drink of his beer.

  “That’s right. Group of bikers vandalized the ranch after the barn raising. Tore things up, got into a slugfest with me and a couple of marine buddies who work for me, fired off some shots. Any guess who it might have been?”

  “I don’t have to guess. I know who it was. Part of a bunch that call themselves the Street Marauders. Operate out of South Dallas. Deal drugs, run prostitutes, stuff like that. I heard they were in town.”

  Josh shook his head. “I don’t get it. I’ve never even heard of these guys. What the hell beef did they have with me?”

  “The Marauders work for hire. Advertise on the Internet in some of those soldier-of-fortune magazines. If the job pays enough, they’re up for just about anything.”

  Tory’s pulse kicked up as the first stirrings of alarm moved through her. Someone paid them?

  Josh leaned forward in his chair. “You’re saying someone hired those guys to tear up my place?”

  “Most likely. If they stopped at vandalizing your property, that’s probably all they were paid to do. Could have been a whole lot worse.”

  Josh slanted Tory a look and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was. Her heart was thrumming. She didn’t want to believe it was Damon, but she did.

  “They still in town?” Josh asked.

  “I heard they left late last night. After Linc called this morning, I asked around. Looks like they’re back in Dallas.”

  “So their job here is done,” Josh said darkly.

  “At least for now.” Tag stood up from his chair. “That’s all I got. But I’ve put the word out. If the Marauders show up in the area, you’ll be the first to know—and you won’t have to deal with them alone.”

  Some of the stiffness eased in Josh’s shoulders. He was making friends here, Tory thought. Good friends, it seemed.

  “Thanks, Tag.”

  The biker tipped up his chin in farewell, then sauntered back to his table of friends.

  Tory’s chest felt as if it were being squeezed in a vise. “It had to be him.”

  Linc’s gaze sharpened. He glanced from Tory to Josh, whose jaw looked tight. “You think Damon Bridger hired those guys to give you trouble?”

  “That’s the only explanation that makes any sense,” Josh said.

  “It was him,” Tory said flatly.

  “You don’t have any proof,” Linc argued. “No way to connect him to what happened.”

  Josh surged up from his chair. “I’m going to Phoenix. I’m putting an end to this once and for all.”

  Tory shot to her feet and gripped his arm. “You can’t confront him, Josh! He’ll have you thrown in jail again and this time you won’t get out!”

  Linc and Carly both stood up. “Tory’s right,” Linc said. “You can’t just charge in there and beat the guy to a pulp. You have to think this through, come up with a plan.”

  “I don’t want to go in there and beat him to a pulp. I want to end him.”

  “Josh!”

  “Take it easy, all right?” Linc said. “I’ll send Townsend to Phoenix, put him in touch with your PI friend, Hamilton Brown. Maybe they can find out whether or not Bridger is responsible.”

  Josh looked like he was going to explode. He took a deep breath, finally managed to bring himself under control. “All right—for now. Maybe Ham and Townsend can find out what’s going on. But this is ending—soon. If Bridger is willing to go as far as hiring outlaw bikers to tear up the ranch, he isn’t going to stop until he gets to Tory. I’m not letting that happen.”

  “There’s still a chance what happened had nothing to do with Bridger,” Linc said.

  Josh’s features remained tight. “You’re right. We need to be sure.” His arm went around Tory, keeping her close. “I’m kind of out of the mood for this. What do you say we go home?”

  Her insides were shaking. It had never occurred to her that Damon might be behind the bikers’ attack. “I’m more than ready.”

  “Maybe we can pick up something to eat on the way,” Josh suggested.

  Tory just nodded. She let Josh guide her out of the bar, her mind going over what Tag Joyner had said. All the way to the truck, she kept thinking of Damon. Linc might not be sure Damon was responsible, but Tory was. Though she’d prayed it wouldn’t happen, she’d been worried about something like this.

  Her chest clamped down. She couldn’t avoid it any longer. She knew what she had to do.

  Josh ended up pulling into the Iron Springs Café for something to eat and a piece of homemade apple pie, but Tory’s appetite was gone. By the time they stopped at Mrs. Thompson’s to pick up Ivy, she was mentally packing, getting ready to leave.

  “Ivy’s already dressed for bed,” Mrs. Thompson said when they arrived. “We baked cupcakes.” She handed Tory a flat plastic container with dark circles visible through the lid. “Chocolate with chocolate frosting.”

  “They look great. Thank you.”

  Ivy was half asleep when Josh carried her out to the pickup for the short ride home, then into the double-wide trailer.

  “I’ll sit with her till she falls back to sleep,” Tory said to Josh, sitting down in the chair next to the little girl’s bed. But it only took a few minutes before she was breathing deeply, fast asleep.

  Easing her tired feet, Tory pulled off her boots and socks and tossed them into her bedroom on her way back down the hall. She was sifting through one plan after another when she walked into the living room and found Josh sitting on the sofa.

  “I’m staying here tonight,” he said, casting a dark look her way.

  She’d been afraid of that. She had things to do to get ready. She needed to get out of there—the sooner, the better.

  “What about your nightmares?” She crossed her fingers, hoping the reminder would be enough to se
nd him home.

  “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  Urgency clawed at her. “Why do you want to stay?”

  “You know why. Because I’m not letting you run. Tell me that’s not what you’re planning. Give me your solemn word you won’t pack up and leave the minute I’m out the door.”

  She couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t lie to him, and she would never break her word to Josh. Surely if she told him the truth, he would realize she was right.

  “I need to go, Josh,” she said softly. “We both know it. As long as I stay here, bad things are going to happen. Once I’m gone, Damon will figure that out and leave you alone.”

  Josh shot to his feet, his features dark and intense. He gripped her shoulders. “You aren’t leaving because of some maniac who plans to do God-only-knows-what once he gets his hands on you. I’m not letting that happen.”

  Tory gasped as his mouth crushed down over hers. Heat blasted through her the way it always did when he touched her. She moaned and clung to his shoulders. Josh kissed her as if his life depended on it, as if he couldn’t get enough.

  He walked her backward till her knees hit the sofa. She went down and Josh followed. His mouth found the side of her neck and his teeth nipped an earlobe. Shivers crawled over her skin and need burned through her, making her hot and wet.

  Josh popped the snaps on his denim shirt and peeled it off, pulled off her tank, popped the front of her bra and stripped it away. When his mouth fastened on her breast, a little whimper came from her throat and moisture settled deep between her legs.

  “I need you,” he said. “I won’t let him hurt you.” He shoved her jean skirt up around her waist, pulled her panties off, and tossed them away. His kiss was rough and hungry, burning and endless. She was so hot, so needy.

  Josh freed himself and then he was inside her. Tory moaned. Josh took her deep, driving hard. She wrapped herself around him, dug her fingers into his powerful shoulders. His heavy weight pressed her into the cushions and she loved it, loved his fierce masculinity. Her body began moving in sync with his, arching upward, taking him deeper, demanding more.

  Josh rode her hard, taking what he wanted, giving her what she needed, driving her up to the peak, making her whole body burn. Pleasure, pure and raw, poured through her, and a shattering climax struck. Tory clung to him, felt his hard muscles go rigid. An instant later, Josh followed her to release.

  Afterward they lay together, drifting in a sensual haze, slowly spiraling down.

  “Don’t leave,” Josh said, kissing her softly one last time, curling her against him on the sofa. “Promise me.”

  There was something in his voice.... She remembered the nightmares he suffered and the story she had read about him. She thought of what he had done to protect his men, thought of the friends he had lost.

  It occurred to her that though she needed his protection, perhaps Josh needed her, too.

  “I’ll stay,” she said softly. “I promise.”

  His hard body relaxed. He tucked her closer against him, and in minutes they were asleep.

  When she awoke late in the night, a light blanket was draped over her, but Josh was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The day was overcast and grim, with a dense layer of heavy black clouds, the wind whipping through the branches of the trees, hurling dead leaves across the ground. The horses were skittish, the cattle uneasy, sensing the coming storm.

  Josh headed over to the cow barn where young Ty Murphy, the black-haired teen who was now his part-time stable hand, had been working.

  “Looks like you’re done with the stalls,” Josh said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ve been working a three-year-old gelding that shows real promise. I want to see how he responds with someone else on his back. Cole says you’re a good rider. Can you handle him?”

  The kid grinned ear to ear. “You bet. Which horse?” He was a handsome kid, features so perfect he was almost pretty. But unlike his two predecessors, Ty Murphy had a core of integrity.

  “The sorrel out in the field behind the ring. That’s Red. Bring me the buckskin, Thor. He can be a little cranky, and he needs work on his neck rein.” He glanced toward the open grasslands. “We won’t be able to stay out too long. Not with the storm coming in.”

  “I’m on it, boss.”

  Josh turned to Noah and Cole. “I thought you two could work in the new barn today, maybe get a few stalls put up, stay out of the weather.”

  “Sounds good,” Noah said.

  Cole just nodded. He’d been in a dark mood all morning. Josh had a feeling it had something to do with Brittany, but he didn’t ask. Cole wasn’t the type to share his feelings, at least not often. Hell, neither was he.

  Which made him think of Tory and what had happened between them last night. As soon as she’d figured out the bikers could have been hired by Damon, he’d known she was going to run.

  What he hadn’t known was how much it would upset him. He tried to tell himself it was just his protective instincts kicking in, but it was way more than that.

  He cared for Tory and little Ivy. The thought of Damon Bridger hurting either one of them made him physically sick. That she would put herself and Ivy in danger to protect him made him a little crazy.

  Fortunately, she was staying. She had given him her word and Josh knew she would keep it. He trusted her in the same soul-deep way he trusted the men who’d fought beside him in the war. He didn’t know how it had happened, only that it had.

  Ty brought the horses in and he and Josh saddled them. Josh retrieved the hunting rifle he kept in the gun safe in the bedroom he’d set up as an office, a .308 Winchester with a Sightron long range scope. You never knew what you might run into out there. Snakes and wild boars could be a problem.

  And there was Damon Bridger.

  He slid the rifle into the scabbard at the front of his saddle and swung aboard. Ty swung up on Red. As they rode away from the barn, the kid sat straight in the saddle yet relaxed, holding the reins loosely but clearly in control.

  Josh gigged the buckskin, heading for the trail that wound through the grasslands. There was an old cabin out there that overlooked the river, a place he liked to go when he wanted to think. He’d check the stock ponds on the way, make sure they were accessible.

  They had just reached the first gate when the phone in his pocket began to vibrate. “Hold a minute,” he called out, pulling rein.

  The buckskin danced, eager to get moving, a little uneasy with the uncertain weather. The sorrel snorted and sidestepped, but the kid held him easily.

  Josh looked at the screen but didn’t recognize the caller number. He pressed the phone against his ear. “Josh Cain.”

  “Josh, it’s Iceman. I’ve got bad news.”

  His stomach contracted. Iceman was Kirby Waldruth, a marine vet and friend. They’d talked at Pete’s funeral. “What is it, Ice?”

  “Coy Whitmore is dead. Rifle shot through the driver’s-side window of his pickup. Bullet struck him in the temple.”

  His mouth went dry. “Jesus. Jesus, Ice, what the hell happened?”

  “Not real sure. Cops haven’t figured out who did it.”

  “Sonofabitch.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “First Pete, now Coy. What the hell’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. Neither do the cops. They think the killings are unrelated. Just coincidence. They’re calling it a possible hunting accident. The police in Gainesville are all over it, but so far no leads.”

  “Two of our guys murdered in just a few weeks? Doesn’t sound like coincidence to me.”

  “Two different towns, hundreds of miles apart. Two different weapons used in the murders. It could be.”

  Josh made no reply. His instincts were screaming. He had learned to listen to them a long time ago.

  “Can you make it to the funeral?” Kirby asked.

  “A hundred armored tanks couldn’t keep me away.”

  “I’ll call as soon as
I get word when it is.”

  “Thanks, Ice.” Josh ended the call. Coy wasn’t married, didn’t have any kids. But his parents were great people and they would be devastated.

  Josh softly cursed.

  “Bad news?” Ty asked.

  “Real bad. Friend of mine was murdered.”

  “Jeez, that’s fucked up.”

  Josh cast him a glance.

  “Sorry.”

  “That’s all right. It really is fucked up.”

  The kid looked out over the rippling grasses in the pasture, obviously disappointed the ride would be canceled. “So I guess we won’t be going.”

  “Oh, we’re going. The last place I want to be is cooped up in the house. I need some air and this is the best way I can think of to get it.” He nudged the big buckskin through the gate, into the open field. “I need a few minutes. I’ll meet you at the stock pond. Wind’s picking up. Red may get a little nervous so stay alert.”

  “I will,” Ty said, clearly eager.

  Josh urged Thor into a trot, then a canter. Soon he was bending over the animal’s neck, the buckskin running flat out, black mane and tail flying, the ground rushing beneath them.

  Thor was a damned fine horse. He would fetch a good price when it was time to sell him. Or maybe Josh would keep him.

  The buckskin’s hooves pounded the earth. It gave him something to think about besides the murder of one of his best friends.

  * * *

  Damon paced the floor of the wood-paneled office where Izzy Watkins clattered away on his keyboard, working his seemingly limitless Internet magic tricks.

  Izzy was a real kiss-ass. The guy would do just about anything to be included in Damon’s pussy posse. He loved the women Damon’s money and good looks scooped up, loved the booze and the drugs.

  Damon liked him well enough, and his skills as a computer geek, combined with his unshakable loyalty, made him a real asset.

  “How’s it coming?” Damon asked, stopping to peer over Izzy’s bony shoulders. Already losing his blond hair at the age of twenty-nine, Izzy wore round-rimmed glasses and was slim, not much to look at, but he knew the deep dark secrets of the computer world inside and out.