Tiny Dancer [Divine Creek Ranch 13] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Heather Rainier

  “That’s good. I put the eye candy up front for all the ladies coming in the door. I’ve got some smarts, huh?”

  Heath laughed and drew out one word as he rolled his eyes. “Whatever!”

  Spencer got her attention and pointed behind her. “Boss, Ethan is waving at you.”

  “Uh-oh. This is the part where I get to talk to the crowd.”

  Spencer grinned and bent down to her. “I heard it helps if you imagine them all nekkid.”

  “Har-har! Wish me luck!”

  Ethan was standing nearby, talking with Hank Stinson, who sat with one of his off-duty deputies, dressed in Western attire. His pale-gray Stetson set off his chiseled good looks, and Camilla wondered for the umpteenth time why he didn’t ever have a date with him when he went out on the town.

  “Hi, Hank. Thank you for coming out.”

  Hank glanced at Ethan and then smiled at her. “Pleasure is all mine, sweetie.”

  Camilla caught the silent exchange. “You’re here in an official capacity?”

  “Unofficially, yes. I’m just helping the guys. Since we still have no idea where Tyler Anderson has gotten himself off to, I’d just feel better keeping an eye on things.”

  “You mean keeping an eye on me? Guys, how many of you are here tonight? I highly doubt he can get to me through all twenty of you.”

  “It’s just a precaution. I never did track him down when I went to pay him a visit, and we still don’t know what the person behind all the break-ins wanted from you,” Hank said.

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “I can. You’re an heiress, in case you forgot,” Ethan said with a grin.

  She tried to glower but wound up chuckling. “All this mess started before that little development. You’d wrap me in cotton and stick me in your pocket if you could, wouldn’t you?” Both men nodded, and Hank held open the pocket on the front of his shirt for her, as if she’d just toe the line and jump in.

  A twinkle came into Ethan’s eyes a second before she felt warm hands wrap around her waist and warm lips brushed her ear. “It’s that time, isn’t it, sugar?” Ben. A light shiver rippled up her spine as his body heat pressed against her backside.

  “I guess so,” she replied nervously. “Funny, I could strip and pole dance with confidence, but put a microphone in my hand and I’m nervous as can be.”

  Quinten stroked her arm as he joined them. “You’ll do great.”

  Up on the stage, her DJ, Matthew, handed her a microphone. She looked out over the crowd, smiling at the culmination of all her efforts and her dreams. The only face missing in the crowd was Tom’s, who had helped her dream along with his generosity and his belief in her. Emotion seized her vocal cords, and she nearly panicked. The sound of Tom’s voice echoed in her memory, and she knew what he’d say. “Just tell us what you want us to know, shortcake.”

  To herself, she whispered, “That I can do. Thanks, Tom. For everything.” Holding the microphone up, she spoke loud and clear. “May I have your attention, please.”

  The words she needed came to her as she welcomed them all to The Twisted Bull. When she was done, she handed the microphone back to Matthew as he gave her a thumbs-up and started the next song.

  An hour later, Camilla giggled when she heard the opening chords of AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” and Quinten jumped up from the booth seat and turned to her. He started gyrating, and she had no choice but to allow herself to be led on the dance floor.

  “You’re all mine, baby!”

  “Only because Ben’s body has no clue how to move to this song. You’re so funny!”

  Quinten kept her giggling as he threw down his best moves, so she did the same thing, distracting him with her own way of dancing to that particular song. After a minute, they both realized that the patrons on the dance floor had cleared space for them and were cheering and clapping to the beat. She was breathless as the song finally ended and Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama” began to play.

  “Thirsty?” he asked. She panted and giggled as he wrapped her in his arms and waved to the cheering crowd.

  “Seriously parched,” she said, leaving the dance floor with him.

  His demeanor immediately changed, and he peered more closely at her. “Was that too much for you—out on the dance floor?” Morning sickness still bothered her, and she counted the days until it would finally pass.

  She shook her head. “Not so far but I am thirsty. I’ll grab a cracker too, just in case.”

  She carried her crackers with her everywhere she went.

  “I’ll get you a club soda. Be right back.” Quinten left her at their table and skirted the bar to get it for her himself. She noticed Hank behind the bar, studying the security monitors.

  As if on cue, the nausea stirred, and she reached for a cracker. She was munching on it quickly when she saw Sylvan wave at her from the rear entry into the club. She needed to use the restroom anyway, so she slipped from the seat and went to see what Sylvan wanted.

  Sylvan spoke into her two-way radio and then turned to Camilla. “They need me up at the front, but there is a delivery truck at the receiving doors. It must be that last shipment from San Antonio for us. Cody said he’d check it out but they’ll need you to sign for it.”

  “Did the driver not see the sign that says we don’t take deliveries after six?”

  “I guess not.” The two-way radio squawked, and Sylvan said, “Can you take care of the delivery man, and I’ll see about the local television station news crew waiting out front?”

  That settled it. She’d done her duty talking in front of an audience and said, “Let Ben and Quinten know. I’m sure they can help, too. I’ll handle the driver. I’ve gotta use the ladies’ room anyway.”

  Sylvan nodded and walked toward the front doors, speaking into her two-way radio. “I’m on my way. Find Ben and Quinten.”

  She went out into the back hallway, where Cody was stationed for the night, and wondered if he was helping with the delivery because he wasn’t at his station by the back door. Thinking that must be the case, she hurried to the ladies’ room to handle the most pressing matter first. If the delivery man could pull her away from her grand opening, then he could wait while she peed.

  After taking care of business, she became curious when she returned to the hallway to find that Cody still had not returned to his post at the back door. A cold draft slithered up her spine, chilling the leather of her corset. Looking closer, she could see that the door had swung open in the cold wind. She stopped to pull the door closed. A sharp prick in the back of her shoulder startled her, and she gasped as she turned, rubbing her arm.

  Shock sent a wave of chills through her body as she looked up at the man standing in front of her.

  “Tyler?”

  Tyler Anderson smiled widely at her, reminding her of a big alligator, the way he showed all his teeth. He stroked her arms. “Yep. It’s me, in the flesh. I thought I’d come see how you’re doing. Obviously very well.” He looked around and then eyed her closely as if he were looking for something in her eyes.

  Camilla swallowed, the nausea welling up even stronger. Her throat felt funny and so did her fingertips. Her mind felt strangely muddled as she wondered why he’d come to see her. She’d made it clear when she’d visited him in the county jail after finding out what he’d done that she never wanted to see him again. Ever. “Why are you here?” Her lips felt a little tingly as she spoke.

  “I came to see you, Camilla. I’ve missed you.”

  She squinted at him. He was wearing a cowboy hat, which was odd for him. It was Tyler, but he looked different. Rougher around the edges. Hardened. Shifty eyed. “Tyler, what are you doing here?” Her lips wouldn’t quite cooperate. She looked beyond him and felt strangely buoyant as he put his arms around her shoulders and directed her to the door. She didn’t want to go with him but her feet followed anyway.

  Tyler chuckled easily as though he were chatting with an old friend. She wasn’t his
friend. Not anymore. “I knew there was no way I could get close to you while you were inside, so I had to draw you out. Letting the local television station know about your grand opening seemed like a good diversion. They jumped at the story.”

  Where’s Cody?

  Her heart thudded sharply in her chest as she tried to summon the strength to pull away from him and run back inside but she felt like a puppet on a string as he led her. He continued rubbing her shoulder and she realized in her stupor that he’d injected her with something. Fear for her baby gave her a sudden surge of adrenaline and she tried hard to concentrate and fight the effects of whatever he’d given her.

  The parking lot lights were dancing and swirling around so strangely and they made her even dizzier as she looked up at them. The nausea threatened again and a wave of cold fear made it worse. She needed to get back inside but she couldn’t get her feet to cooperate. She didn’t know how she stayed on them as he led her toward the large rental truck parked near the end of the building, away from the cars in the parking lot. She tried to pull away from him, to dig in her heels, and he moved her along as though she weighed nothing, holding her to his side when her knees wobbled.

  “Where’s Cody?”

  “Busy.” Tyler chuckled good-naturedly. “Yeah, you were pretty clever hiring him. I imagine his two buddies must be inside, too. I took care of him. You sure do look beautiful tonight.” She looked up and caught him leering at her cleavage. “I’ve missed you, Cami.”

  She tried to free herself from his hold but couldn’t seem to lift her arms. “What did you do to him?” It became increasingly difficult to speak clearly, and she had to overenunciate to make herself understood. “What did you do to me?” She stumbled, and he caught her, hurrying her to the passenger side door of the large truck. Her head lolled back, and she caught a glimpse of Cody, prostrate and motionless on the ground behind the truck. “Cody!” Her voice sounded pitifully weak.

  “Just a little sedative. Something to make you more amenable. I need something from you. Well, two somethings from you, actually. But we need to get out of here before anyone gets curious.”

  Knowing she was moments away from being abducted, Camilla did the only thing her body seemed capable of doing. She became deadweight. She wouldn’t climb up into the cab of the truck, and he wasn’t strong enough to lift her. She wondered if he’d found himself a big boyfriend in prison to protect his sorry ass. He must have. “How did you get out of pri–prison?”

  “Time off for good behavior.” He glanced around nervously and struggled to get her up to the cab, but she hung limp in his arms, numb from her waist down. He opened the passenger side door and climbed up in the cab, and she slumped to the asphalt, cursing him if her nice leather outfit got ruined. He turned and looked down at her and grimaced. “Help me out here, baby.”

  “I’m not your baby,” she said, her syllables slurred. “I’m Quinten’s baby.” Her mind felt all fuddled and she wondered why she’d said that.

  “Yeah, I know, and gonna have a baby, so I see. Let’s try this again.” He jumped down from the truck.

  “Huh?”

  He pulled on her arm to get her to sit up. “I found the paperwork on your desk for your prenatal testing and workup. I also saw some other very interesting paperwork. Turns out you’re worth a little money.” Bastard! So it was him who was behind all those break-ins!

  “Not yours,” she said, refusing to hold herself upright for him so he could abduct her. She slumped to the ground again.

  “Oh, yeah?” He pulled his booted foot back to kick her in the abdomen. “I’ll bet you’re willing to part with some of it in order to keep that brat safe.” She curled around her abdomen, whimpering, and he paused then squatted down. “Look. It’s real simple, Cami. I owe some very angry people a lot of money. They’ve been waiting a while, you see? You have something that belongs to me. Before we go get it, wherever it is, we’re making a detour to your bank. Once I have traveling money and the key, I’ll let you go back to that perverted…whatever kind of relationship you’ve got with those men.”

  Her tongue was numb now. Otherwise she would’ve responded. She was almost glad she couldn’t because she knew that Tyler had a temper. She was afraid of passing out completely and being at his mercy.

  “Now get your ass up, and help me get you in this damn truck! Why did I rent this big-assed motherfucker?”

  To stall, she summoned up her force of will and pushed out the words, “Key? What key?” Swirlies whirled in her brain as she looked up at the parking lot lights, and she shook her head, trying to keep it together.

  “The key to a safe-deposit box.”

  She frowned and inhaled deeply. “I have no key.” Each word was a struggle.

  “Yeah, you do. I taped it in your high school annual. The one from your senior year.”

  She groaned pitifully. “Oh, no.” She laid her head back as her eyes rolled uncontrollably.

  Tyler crouched down beside her where she lay on the pavement. “What do you mean, ‘Oh, no.’ I don’t need any more oh-nos. I just need the cash from that safe-deposit box. I need to pay those motherfuckers off before they kill my ass. Cami,” he said, lifting her head as her eyes rolled again, “I kinda loved you at one point, and I’d hate to have to hit you to wake you up, so you need to tell me what happened.” He glanced at his watch. “Shit, we’ve been out here too long.” He crouched down and pulled her arms over his shoulder and braced himself to lift her. She prayed like hell he wouldn’t drop her as she hung limply, not cooperating.

  Talk, sister, before he gets you in that truck.

  “Whatchu need cash for? Pay off who?”

  “The guys I stole the money from. That’s the only reason my ass is still alive. They know I have their fifty thousand dollars.”

  “You stole my house, why?”

  “Huh?” He popped her cheek and the sharp sting startled her.

  She did her best to make herself clear. “My h–house. You made a huge ol’ mess. But you din’t touch Mom’s asses.” Ashes!

  “Asses? Oh, the ashes. I overheard you and Charlotta talking about them. You said you were uncomfortable opening them. I knew what they were, so I left them alone. See? I’m not such a bad guy. I just need that damned key, baby!”

  “Not yer baby.”

  She moaned when he turned and bent her arms the wrong way, trying to lift her over his back without much success. This was one time she was glad that he’d been short and not too buff. She wondered where Ben and Quinten were and prayed that the cavalry showed up soon.

  “Why you have their money?” She’d cooperated fully with the authorities and followed his trial but knew nothing about him owing a debt he’d never paid.

  “I was skimming a percentage off the cocaine I sold for them in the club. My nest egg. They caught on right about the time I got busted. Someone paid me a visit the day I got out of prison. Told me the clock was ticking if I wanted to live. I need you to tell me where the key is. It was supposed to be a simple matter of paying your house a visit, retrieving the key, and getting the money.” He grabbed her by the corset strings at her sides and used them to yank her up, making the corset unbearably tight.

  She whimpered, cried out, and fought him. “It’s gone. I los’ that annual last time I moved, Tyler.”

  “Well, shit,” he ground out. She was afraid that he’d let go of her now that she was upright. He reached into the truck and pulled out a handgun and pointed it at her. “Get in the truck. Stop playing around.”

  She flinched when he poked her in the ribs and she gripped the seat but managed to stay on her feet. He must’ve given her only a light dose of the sedative because she could feel her legs again, only she couldn’t lift them. “Can’t climb in.”

  “Fine. I’ll climb in and pull you in. Stay there. I was kinda hopin’ that you and I could give it another try since I’m out of prison. I see that’s impossible now. If you don’t cooperate, I’m gonna have to shoot you. Stay there
.” He climbed past her on the passenger side and grabbed her under her arms. “Climb up, Cami. We’re driving to your bank and you’re withdrawing me some traveling money. Whether you live depends on how cooperative you are.”

  He kept talking as he hauled her into the cab of the truck, and Camilla wondered if he’d always been this much of a dumb, boring asshole. How had he been smart enough to get himself into so many illegal money-making situations and yet couldn’t figure out what to do with one sedated ex-girlfriend?

  When she was finally in the passenger seat, he sat back with a thud and started the engine. Camilla’s eyelids slid closed, and she moaned as the nausea returned with a vengeance. He’d yanked so hard on her corset strings it must’ve made it worse. Surely her men had missed her by now. She struggled with the laces, trying to loosen the section he’d pulled tight, but couldn’t manage to do much more than bat at them with her numb fingertips.

  Tyler jumped when a shadow appeared outside the driver’s door, and she heard a metallic click. “Freeze, asshole. Put the gun down.”

  Hank.

  Camilla collapsed in the seat and relief coursed through her so fast she felt the nausea take control. She was certain this time it was going to win. She reached out for the truck door handle and realized the door was still wide open. She tried to turn to climb out of the truck, saw how far down the ground was as it wavered in her vision, and thought better of it. She might survive a near abduction only to break her neck falling from the vehicle. She hated feeling so weak and helpless.

  Tyler cursed as he reached for her, preparing to put the gun to her head. She slapped his hands away and struggled, until Hank jerked open the truck’s driver side door and pulled him away from her, slamming him back against the driver’s seat.

  Tyler released the trigger on the weapon in his hand and held it up.

  “Put the weapon on the dashboard, then put both hands up where I can see them, asshole,” Hank ground out, his gun still aimed at Tyler.

  Tyler complied and began talking a mile a minute as he lifted both hands in the air. His voice rose in pitch with each passing second. “I’ll tell you everything, but you gotta take me into protective custody. My life is in danger. I’ll tell you everything—”