by Rhea Regale
She did trust Jackson, with every ounce of her being. She trusted Rylan in that he would never let someone bring harm to her and would always tell her the truth. She loved that Jackson was acutely aware of her heart falling fast for Rylan, and in this dreamlike world that she’d stepped into when she stepped into Ryder, she wanted to stay.
Yes, she would be willing to give up everything in Nashville. She’d turn her back on her career—well, what was left of it now—and start over if it meant not losing what she discovered last night. Aside from the incredible sex, she found a wholeness lying in the arms of both Jackson and Rylan that she hadn’t know with Jackson alone.
Brianna finally chose a pair of tight-fitting dark-blue jeans and a cowl-neck sweater in exchange for her comfy pink sweat suit. She picked out a pair of her nice knee-high boots and returned to the kitchen where she paper-bagged the container of hot food, along with rolls and a set of utensils.
Footsteps came down the entryway as she finished compiling the last of her food bag.
“Comin’, Jax,” Brianna said, draping the handles of the bag over her arm.
A hand clamped over her mouth and nose, a moist cloth covering half her face. She dropped the bag and tried to wrench free when steel whipped around her, pinning her arms to her body. She screamed for Jackson against the cloth, twisting her head to try and escape the potent, sweet scent that had already crept into her lungs.
My god, where’s Jax?
“Breathe, Brianna. It’ll all be over soon.”
She twisted her arms and yanked against the iron grip. She stomped her feet, trying to get a toe. She kicked back, trying to get a knee or a shin.
Sean moved with her, a malicious dance that ignited new panic. She wanted to breathe. Her lungs demanded she inhale. Her heart screamed for air, pounding with a painful ferocity against her chest wall. With a burst of adrenaline, she put every bit of strength behind her fight to get free. Her vision dimmed as the ache in her chest blossomed into a repetitive stab. She kicked her feet up, wedged them against the cabinets, and shoved hard. Sean slammed into the island. A rough breath spread against her hair and her body jerked, but the arm holding her didn’t loosen.
Don’t breathe, don’t breathe, don’t breathe!
She was losing her grip on consciousness. Sean continued to press the cloth against her nose and mouth, her teeth biting into her lips.
She surrendered to her body’s screaming demands, sucking in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the pungent scent of the chemicals dampening the cloth. Weakness flooded her, followed by a tingling numbness. Her legs gave out beneath her weight, her arms limp at her side. She went slack in Sean’s arm, trying to blink away the encroaching gray as her body starved for oxygen.
Another breath. Another wave of numbness. Sean’s arms tightened around her waist, taking on her dead weight.
“Good girl. See, Brianna? I wouldn’t have to do this if you had come with me in the first place.”
Her eyelids became a burden to keep open, and the lapping waves of darkness finally came up over her head.
* * * *
The methodical sound of crunching drew her the last few inches out of that black sea. A dull throb filled her head and she winced, keeping still until it subsided.
When she finally opened her eyes, she stared at the back of a leather seat. A soft glow of white and the swoosh of wipers against the windshield brought her to her elbows. She glanced around, slowly taking in her surroundings. Not Sean’s Mercedes. No, she was in a truck. A small duffle bag on the back floor made her heart plummet.
Jackson’s truck.
“You’re up.”
Brianna reached up to rub her eyes. Metal bit into her wrists bound behind her back. She struggled into a sitting position and craned her neck. The shiny surface of cuffs reflected a streetlight.
“What are you doin’ Sean?” Brianna asked. The words came out in a thick slur, her tongue heavy in her mouth. She squeezed her lips together, a lingering tingle still toying with her flesh.
“Need I tell you?” Sean shook his head with a snort. Brianna scooted to the window and cringed as a new bubble of pain filled her head. She looked at the rearview through squinted eyes and caught Sean’s maddening gaze. “You’ve embarrassed your mother, your family. You’re leaving this god-awful place and returning to Nashville. We will marry and you will be my obedient wife.”
“Damn it, Sean. I don’t love you and you don’t love me. Why the hell are you going to force marriage on us both just to be miserable?” Brianna tried to reason. She needed to buy time to clear the last of the effects of the drug from her system.
“You’ve known all along, Brianna. Your inheritance will set me up nice for the rest of my life. The affiliation with your family will put me in the higher social circles, the ones I need access to if I want to take over this company for your mother. You owe her for everything she’s given you. Marriage, Bree, is not always about love. It’s about responsibility.”
Brianna bit back the urge to mutter a smartass comment, and stared at the side of his head. What the hell was he talking about with her mother?
“What did you do to Jackson?”
“Don’t go worrying about that lowlife. Or the cop. We’ll be long gone by the time they come around.”
Unsettled nausea stirred in her belly. She licked her dry lips, the feeling starting to come back. She strained against the dizzying snow and the darkness to figure out where they were.
“If we marry, Sean, there will be prenups. You know my mother will not allow for her son-in-law to gain access to my family’s money that easily. She cut her own son out of any inheritance when he was a boy because my father got custody of him.”
He wagged a finger, daring another long glance in the rearview with little regard to the treacherous weather. “That’s where you’re wrong. Your mother and I made a deal. See, she’s the one who told me to come out here and drag you back home so you can learn what being a Cabot means. You’ve become an embarrassment to her, and I’m willing to save your soiled reputation. Not only is she going to give me a nice payment for taking you as my wife, she’s giving me access to whatever I want.” His icy stare dropped in the mirror, and Brianna instinctively pulled her shoulder around to block his view of her cleavage. “Everything.”
“You really think I’m gonna believe your story? My mother wants nothing to do with your business. She has her own, those handed down through her family.”
“Not the brokerage, Brianna. The galleries. She wants possession of the galleries that the Gentry family stole from her grandfather years ago. I’ve been working the inside. By taming your shameful ways and bringing more value back to your mother after we marry, we’re going to buy them out from underneath Samuel Gentry and I’ll run them under her instruction.”
A fuckin’ family vendetta and a pact between my own mother and this nut got me into this mess?
Brianna nudged the duffle bag with the toe of her boot. Nothing but clothes. She cautiously worked her cuffed hands under her butt, pausing to make sure she didn’t bring attention to herself.
“How long have you been conspirin’ with my mother?”
“Dense woman. Why do you think your mother introduced us in the first place?”
She scowled. Wretched bitch.
Sean leaned forward, slowing the truck at a stop sign. She quickly finished pulling her hands to the front of her, flipped open the lock as quietly as she could, and cast Sean one more glance.
Buy time. However little it might be, it’s a chance someone will come.
“Which way to that main road?” he muttered, inching the truck forward. Brianna closed her eyes, said a quick prayer, and took a deep breath.
She threw the door open and stumbled out of the rolling truck. She took off, retracing the way they came. Sean yelled from the cab. The snow hampered each step, her heeled boots slowing down her attempt to escape. Without use of her arms, she was vulnerable, but she bolted onward. The brake li
ghts reflected against the coat of white. The truck popped into park and a door slammed at her back.
Brianna slipped, dropping to a knee. She shoved herself back to her feet, the cold biting through her thin sweater, the snow leaving icy trails down her chest and neck.
“You stupid girl,” Sean snapped. He was coming up on her fast, pitching her into survival mode. She scrambled up the small sloping street. The dark silhouette of a structure rested a short distance away. A light shone through the thick falling snow. House!
She gave a sharp look over her shoulder and immediately regretted it. Sean was barreling toward her, his pace steady and lacking the stumbles she experienced.
She reached the long pathway up to the house, the ground more level than the street.
Sean grabbed her arm. She screamed until his hand came down across her face, silencing her behind a flash of explosive pain. The force of the hit sent her into the ground, landing hard on her arm in the uneven terrain of old and new snow. Jagged chunks of ice scraped into her skin.
Sean groaned, raking a hand through his hair and turning his back in frustration. Brianna lowered her head and licked the inside of her cheek. The tangy flavor of blood slid against her tongue where her teeth bit into her flesh. Her cheek throbbed, pairing up with the residual ache in her head.
“Why. Don’t. You. Listen?” Sean barked out each word, the hatred behind his question flaring to life when he spun back to her.
Brianna gasped. Sean lifted the dark gun from his side and pointed it at her. She dug her heels into the ground, trying to scramble away, but her cuffed hands prohibited her from any attempt to escape.
“Christ, Brianna. Why can’t you be like all those other prissy rich girls who dote on their husbands and listen to what they tell them to do? Why must you be so difficult?”
Sean crouched down next to her, the barrel of the gun dancing chaotically from her face to her belly and back. Brianna raised her hands in front of her head, cowering into the snow.
“Okay, okay. Sean, I’ll come. I’ll come and I’ll listen and I’ll do everythin’ you ask. Please, put that away.”
Her stomach twisted and churned, leaving her on the verge of vomiting from fear. She didn’t know if Sean knew anything about firearms. That frightened her more than staring into the ominous barrel. He nudged her chin with the cold steel. She squeezed her eyes shut, her teeth clamped and her lips pulled back in a grimace. Every muscle in her body stiffened, fine tremors squeezing hushed whimpers from her chest. The snow soaked into her clothes, freezing her skin. Please, no. Not here. Not like this. My god, please!
“You’re the problem, Brianna. Eliminating you would eliminate the problem. But…” Cold steel jabbed at her jaw. A quiet sob pressed through her teeth. “You’ve caused me too much trouble not to have my suffering repaid in one form or another. I know your mother would rather see you stirring in misery than to be relieved of all your problems.”
Sean pulled the gun away and snatched the chain between her cuffs, giving them a sharp jerk. The metal bit into her wrist as he dragged her to her feet and hauled her back to the truck. He shoved her into the passenger seat this time, buckling her in and slamming the door, rocking the truck on its tires.
She did a quick survey of her situation. The gun had been a wild card, one that threw her off guard and into a new realm of anxiety. Cuffed with no weapon, poor shoes, and no way to contact Rylan or Jackson, she was damn well trapped.
Then Sean climbed in behind the steering wheel and held the gun pointed at her, and any flicker of hope smothered and died.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fuck, the pain was intense. Rylan rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, hoping the lingering haze would dissipate. He had no idea how long he was out before Carter found him, half-frozen in the snow drift, bleeding from the numerous scrapes on his face. The back of his head was tender and achy, and whatever that fucking bastard hit him with broke skin.
“Jackson’s still not answering his phone,” Carter said. “When should your guys get there? I can call your parents to head over to the house.”
“No. Don’t go gettin’ them involved.” Rylan snapped his empty holster closed, his anger boiling over the edge of his control. “This prick’s a special kind of stupid.”
“Taking your gun and your cruiser? I’d say he’s a special kind of dead,” Carter said. “He’d better not touch your girl or Jax, otherwise he’ll be double dead.”
Rylan pinned his cousin with a warning glare. “I gave you your window with Katie’s mom. You ain’t gettin’ another shot tonight.”
“Where’s your backup weapon?”
“In my ankle holster, but if this guy’s got my truck, he’s got my shotgun and rifle.” Rylan tuned in his mic and called into Martha. “Martha, I want a guy at every corner of this town, hear?”
“Yes, Sheriff. The last two boys are headin’ out of the door as we speak.”
“And tell them to stop anythin’ that looks like my cruiser. This guy took it.”
“’Course.”
“No one leave Ryder. Oh, and one more thing. He’s got my gun, so make sure everyone’s aware he’s armed and dangerous.”
“Oh lovely,” Martha said with a groan. “When will these city folk learn not to mess with my Ryder boys? I’ll pass the message along, Sheriff.”
Rylan turned down his radio as Martha relayed the information to his department. Carter switched off his headlights, leaving on his parking lights, and cruised past Miss Bess’s place. The storm had worsened over the last hour, making it difficult to see the roads beyond a few feet. Rylan leaned forward, ignoring the sharp stabbing pain at the back of his head that followed any sudden movement.
“Should be easy to find him in this weather,” Carter said.
“You, of anyone I know, shouldn’t be sayin’ that. This guy’s not in his right mind, which means he’s capable of anything. My biggest concern is gettin’ to Brianna. She’s the reason he’s here.”
“First Lexi’s ex, now Brianna’s ex.”
“Difference is Lexi’s ex wanted her dead. Brianna’s ex wants her alive.” I hope. Carter’s phone buzzed. Rylan glanced at the screen and immediately answered the call. “Jax, where the hell were you?”
“He’s got Bree, Ry. Fuckin’ ass knocked me out and took my truck and our woman. I’m in your cruiser. Think I just saw taillights at the end of your street. Vehicle turned into town.” Jackson groaned. “I’m gonna kill him, Ry. I’ve got your fuckin’ rifle here and I’m gonna shoot him between the eyes.”
Not if I get to him first. Rylan knocked Carter’s arm. “Stop at the end of the street. Jax thinks they might’ve just pulled out of Sheridan headin’ this way.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Carter said, killing his parking lights as he cruised through the stop sign, put the truck in reverse, and backed up alongside the gas station building.
“Martha, tell the boys to be on the lookout for a twenty-eleven champagne F150. The suspect changed vehicles. Jackson has my cruiser.”
“On it.”
“Jackson, stay back. Don’t let him see you.”
“I don’t think I’m catchin’ up anytime soon. Roads are slick and I really don’t want to wreck your cruiser.”
“Go back home. I’ve got everyone out on this right now.”
“Home my ass. I’ll let you know if I come across them.”
Jackson ended the call. Rylan shook his head, placing the phone on the console. Carter arched his hips off the seat and withdrew his revolver. He handed it to Rylan. “Take it. Better than that little pistol backup.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re awfully calm under the circumstances,” Carter observed, tapping the steering wheel. Rylan leveled Carter with a hard look. If he only knew what it took to keep control over the raging fury threatening to melt down his composure, he wouldn’t have that smirk on his face. “How I was overseas. Sure, a little anticipation would kick in if the missions were more ris
ky, but I always kept the emotions under wraps until the moment I needed them most.” Carter’s smirk flattened. “When I stared death in the face and knew it was me or him, I wasn’t going to be the one to die. You might not be staring death in the face, Ry, but you’re heading into a battle fueled by your emotions.”
“Wise man war made of you.”
“Fucked up and broken man war created.”
Rylan turned to the window, narrowing his gaze against the snow. “It would be nice to have you workin’ at the department. Could use your skill. Unless, of course, you enjoy frolickin’ in the hay bales with yours.”
Carter snickered. “We both know I don’t take orders well.”
“Oh?” Rylan cast him a short glance before keeping his eye out for signs of headlights. “Sure we could figure somethin’ out to keep you in line.”
“I’m considering the opportunity, but I’m not going to make any commitments until the new year. I’m catching up on precious lost years with Summer and Braden.”
“And fillin’ in Brianna on tidbits about my life.”
Carter chuckled, opening the console and pulling out another revolver. “Someone had to if you weren’t going to be man enough to do it yourself.”
Rylan straightened up, cussing the pain in his head. “What the hell are you doin’?”
Carter clapped the steering wheel and opened the door. “Get behind the wheel. When he comes around the corner, pull out behind him. I’ll be stopping him before he makes it past Mrs. Pearson’s shop if you don’t disable him first.”
“Don’t you dare put any of those in that guy, you hear?”
Carter jumped onto the snowy ground and flashed him a lethal smile. “He shoots, cuz, it’s self-defense.”
“Hey, this is my jurisdiction, Carter. We went through this not long ago, right?”
“Ms. Harris’s situation was a little more controlled, and you were in better shape, wouldn’t you say?” Carter asked as he headed across the street to the park. The snow swallowed his frame within moments.