by Tee O'Fallon
The years hadn’t been kind to him, but that didn’t bother her because he’d never been a kind man. Despite being only ten years her senior, his thick shock of hair was mostly gray. He’d once been lean, but now he sported a bulbous paunch. Lines bracketed his eyes and the corners of his mouth, adding a meanness she knew firsthand was there. What scared her most were his eyes. Eyes that had raked over her body with such obvious lust.
As they were doing now.
The day her mother died—her life had been irrevocably changed. Her stepfather hadn’t been a father to her at all. But this man, this vile excuse for a human being, was the reason she’d fled Alabama in the dark of night.
She reached out, resting her hand on the hood of the truck to steady herself. Bile rose in her throat. As if her situation couldn’t possibly worsen, it just had because Eric was watching and listening. He’d hear the entire conversation and realize in an instant that Mark Pritchard knew her. The time had been coming when her ugly past would be laid out for Eric to see. She’d hoped that time wouldn’t be today. Fate was not on her side.
“Well, how do, Tess,” Pritchard said, and when he reached out to stroke her hair, she twisted away. “All growed up, and”—he chuckled in that disgusting, lascivious way she’d detested since he’d first come into their lives—“well over eighteen. I’m truly thinkin’ it’s a sign from God, us bein’ reunited. This time, I don’t even have to ask your stepdaddy’s permission.”
Pull yourself together. Stay strong. Show no fear, or he’ll latch on to it like a feral hog on a bunny.
Straightening, she thrust out her chin, praying he wouldn’t detect how unbelievably petrified she really was. “You’re right. You don’t need to ask his permission. You need to ask mine, and that’s not something I’ll give. Ever.”
“You know her?” the first man asked.
Pritchard grinned, revealing teeth that had yellowed from a lifetime of smoking and chewing tobacco. “This little lady and I go way back. She was just a girl when I knew her back home. I’m sorry I missed those years. I do like ’em young.”
When he reached out to touch her again, she readied to give him a swift kick in the nuts.
The first man grabbed Pritchard by the arm. “We don’t have time for that.” A muscle ticked in Pritchard’s cheek as he glared at the other man. “Let’s finish this and get out of here.”
Pritchard’s nostrils flared. Tess had seen his violent tendencies in action many times. He was about to plow his fist into the other man’s face.
“Fine.” Pritchard turned his attention back to her. “We’re not finished,” he growled. “Not by a long shot. Your stepdaddy made a promise to me, and I intend to take what’s mine.”
“Things are different now.” She clenched her hands at her sides as anger and revulsion gushed through her veins. “I’ll never be yours, and you’ll never lay a hand on me. Take the drums and let it go.”
Lightning flashed, followed closely by a sharp crack of thunder. The sky darkened more. Heavy rain beat down, quickly soaking her clothes and hair. Between the drops pounding on the metal hood and in the trees all around them, the sound was a deafening roar.
His eyes narrowed, and she stepped back, planting one foot slightly behind her. As scared as she was, there was no way she’d let that sick sonofabitch touch her again.
I’d rather die.
“I think that’s a good idea.” The second man grabbed Pritchard’s shoulder and urged him back to the barn. “Let’s unload and beat feet. The last thing we need is for her to go to the police because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.”
Pritchard shot the man a look of hatred so intense, this time she was sure he’d plant his fist in the guy’s jaw. With obvious reluctance, Pritchard accompanied the man to the barn, sending her a leering grin over his shoulder.
She let out a shuddering breath, not knowing who frightened her more—Pritchard or her stepfather.
Another bolt of lightning lit the sky, and she cringed. Thunder rolled over the treetops, so loud and powerful the ground vibrated beneath her feet. The cloud cover was low, the sky dark as ash. Aside from the rain, she heard nothing. No whop-whop of helicopter blades overhead.
A car drove past on the road and kept going. She couldn’t be certain, but it might have been one of the agents’ vehicles she’d seen in the school parking lot.
Pritchard and one of the men grabbed a handle on the barn’s doors, sliding them open. Aside from one other drum and a few bales of hay, the barn was empty.
The two men she didn’t know each picked up a metal ramp and dragged it to the back of the pickup. After flipping up the cap’s door and lowering the tailgate, they positioned the ramps at the edge of the tailgate then maneuvered the drums into position and rolled them out of the truck and onto the driveway.
Pritchard returned with a hand truck then began wheeling the first drum to the barn, pausing to look at her and lick his lips.
Again, bile rose in her throat. The urge to jump into the pickup and flee was overwhelming.
She moved to the hood of the pickup, glancing occasionally at the windshield. The camera and microphone were recording everything. Assuming the chopper was still grounded, Eric wouldn’t be able to see or hear a thing. Later, after reviewing the recordings, she’d have a lot of explaining to do.
The cloud cover lifted, but the deluge of rain was incessant. Water dripped from her forehead into her eyes. She began to shiver and moved closer to the truck, soaking up warmth from the rumbling engine.
She shifted her feet and clasped her arms around her shoulders as the men rolled the rest of the drums into the barn. One of them pulled a heavy chain through the door handles then affixed a padlock through the ends.
In the distance, a low whop-whop beat the air, getting louder by the second. The ATF chopper is up again. She couldn’t see it, but it was there, like protective eyes in the sky.
I’m not alone anymore.
Pritchard dug into his pocket then pulled out a wad of cash and strolled toward her, grinning and looking as if he had all the time in the world. Dark eyes dipped to her breasts that were plumped up from her tightly clasped arms.
“Here’s your money, darlin’.” He held out a wad of cash, and as she reached for it, he shot out his other hand, latching onto her wrist and hauling him against his chest.
“Let me go,” she screamed, yanking her arm back, but he was too strong.
His other arm wrapped around her back, holding her immobile against him. The smell of cigarette smoke was nauseating, as if his clothes were steeped in it.
“I haven’t had anything so sweet in a long time, so how ’bout givin’ me a little sugar.” He lowered his face, trying to press his mouth on hers. She turned to the side, twisting in his arms, revolted by the press of his wet, slimy lips on her cheek.
“Knock it off!” one of the other men shouted.
Ignoring the command, Pritchard chuckled. “The more you wriggle and fight me, the more I like it, sugar. Can you feel what you do to me?”
She could and fought the urge to wretch. His erection was hard against her belly. The thought of him taking her was so unbelievably repugnant that she screamed again and drew up her knee, crashing it into his groin.
He bent over at the waist, uttering a string of curses and covering his crotch with one hand.
Tess darted to the pickup and yanked open the door. Wait! Get the money.
Her heart pounded as she ran back to where Pritchard was still doubled over, his face contorted in pain. The other two men stood off to the side, shaking their heads, laughing.
She lunged for the wad of cash in a puddle then spun and bolted back to the truck. Once inside, she slammed the door shut and cranked the gearshift into reverse. The last thing she saw before backing onto the road was the malevolent look on Pritchard’s face.
To say she’d made an enemy of him was an understatement. If he ever got his hands on her again, he’d make her suffer in the worst w
ay possible. He’d rape her until he was done with her. Then kill her.
Chapter Seventeen
Eric slammed his fist on the wheel. “I’ll kill him.”
Tiger thrust his head through the cage, uttering a concerned growl.
Watching that POS touch Tess had awakened a monster inside him, and all he wanted was to pound the bastard headfirst into the ground.
He yanked the gearshift into reverse, about to stomp on the gas pedal.
“Wait.” Dayne grabbed his arm, pointing to the mobile computer’s screen. “Look. You missed the good part. Your girl’s got a mean knee, and she knows how to use it.”
Through the haze of red fury, he managed to focus enough to see the asshole no longer had his arms around Tess, trying to mash his smarmy lips on her mouth. The motherfucker was doubled over in pain, and she was snatching up the pile of cash from the ground.
“Fuuuck.” Dayne chuckled. “I think she sterilized him for life.”
Two seconds before the pickup started backing up, the man raised his head, a vicious sneer curling his upper lip as he looked directly at the dash cam.
Eric pulled the laptop closer, staring at the image. Age and hard living had leaned out the man’s face to the point where he barely recognized him, but the camera didn’t lie.
“That’s Mark Pritchard,” he muttered, trying to process the full implication of the man’s presence in the middle of all this.
“Who’s that?” Dayne asked.
“Harley Gant’s right-hand man.” And the link he’d been looking for.
“No shit.”
“Actually, lots of it.”
As much as he was convinced Gant was behind the hit on him and his friends, Gant wouldn’t have dirtied his hands directly. The man was too smart for that. He would have ordered someone—Pritchard—to do the job for him.
Adrenaline pumped through his veins. Revenge was so close he could nearly taste it.
His gut had told him Gant was connected to those drums from the beginning, and now he had proof. Pritchard’s presence in New Jersey sealed that truth up with a bow. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to hold up in court. Guilt by association didn’t cut it.
As he watched Tess on the monitor, backing out of the driveway then shooting down the road, he drew his first easy breath all day.
Since the moment she’d pulled up alongside the barn, protective emotions had nearly gutted him. When the chopper had to land and he’d lost audio and visual, he wanted to blast out of the parking lot like a rocket ship on rails and pull her out of there. Now, knowing it had been Pritchard laying hands on her amplified those feelings by a thousand.
The man was a rapist—a child molester.
Like his friends’ murders, Pritchard’s crimes were never proven, but he’d gotten it straight from the Birmingham PD how many times the sick, twisted pervert had been hauled in for questioning in child sexual assault cases and how many times the charges had to be dropped because the victim either disappeared or her parents were seen driving around in a brand-new vehicle they could never afford.
Amped up by Eric’s agitation, Tiger began pacing back and forth on the bench seat, then stuck his head through the opening, pushing his wet nose against Eric’s neck.
He curled his hand beneath his dog’s chin. “I’m okay, boy. Easy does it.” Only he wasn’t okay, far from it. Tiger sensed the latent fury still lighting up his nerve endings and pulled back his head to resume pacing on the bench seat.
The pickup blew past them, heading south. Eric pushed a button and the screen went dark. With the chopper down during most of the meet, they hadn’t been able to monitor the delivery in real time, but they could review and listen to the video as soon as the devices were removed from the pickup. If any of the other men were in the system, they should be able to run facial recognition for an ID. They also had the tags from their vehicles.
Overhead, the sky continued clearing, and the chopper flew past.
“Subject vehicles are heading north on Sawmill Road,” the pilot radioed.
Eric clicked his mic. “Stay with them until ground units catch up. Units One, Two, and Three, move out.”
Three unmarked ATF sedans sped from the parking lot.
“You okay?” Dayne eyed him with concern, and Eric understood why.
Until today, he’d never lost his shit in front of his friend. Tess was the cause of it.
“Yeah,” he answered. Now, anyway. Now that she was driving safely away. At least her and Jesse’s part in all this was pretty much over. Good thing because he didn’t think he could take watching her in danger again.
Or seeing another man lay hands on her.
He cued up her number on his phone. They’d do a formal debriefing later. For now, he needed to check on her and hear her voice. Three rings later, she answered.
“Hello?” Her voice shook, which only exacerbated his guilt over putting her in the position in the first place. Didn’t matter that it was her idea.
“Are you all right?” he asked, not really seeing how she could be.
A pause, then, “Yes. I’m fine.”
The woman had guts. That was for sure.
“D-did you get all that?” Fear was evident in her tone.
Though she couldn’t see him, he shook his head. “The chopper was grounded, so we missed most of the transmission. We’ll review the full recording later.”
“Oh.” Another pause, then, “Eric, I need to tell you something. It’s important.”
“If you’re about to say you forgot to shut off the engine, I already know.” He’d realized that the moment she’d gotten out of the pickup. They hadn’t been able to hear a damn thing, but he didn’t blame her. She’d been nervous enough as it was. “We couldn’t hear much, and the recording will be just as bad. You’ll have to fill us in later on the conversation.”
“What?” She sounded shocked. “Do you mean there won’t be any sound on the video?”
“Nothing clear, anyway. The lab may be able to clean up the recording.” Now it was his turn to pause. It was clear she was more shaken by what had gone down than he’d first realized. “Tess, do you want to talk to someone about…” He could barely say the words, barely think them without seeing an angry red haze before his eyes. “About that man touching you? I can arrange for a female counselor if you need one.”
Her response came quickly. “No, don’t! I’m fine. I just need to see Jesse. I’m sorry about leaving the motor running.”
“Forget it. The main thing is the delivery was made and you’re safe.” That much was true. He couldn’t imagine what could have happened if she hadn’t gotten herself out of there. His guts twisted at the ugly images flitting before his eyes.
He uncurled his stiff fingers from around the wheel. “Dayne and I will be out for a while doing recon, so don’t wait up for me.”
“Okay. Bye.” She hung up.
Eric stared at the phone. She really would be waiting for him at home. The idea of her being there after he got off shift was… What? Nice didn’t begin to describe it.
He’d never had a woman waiting for him at his home before. The thought should have had him running for the hills, but it didn’t. It made him want the time before he walked in the door to fly by at light speed because he couldn’t wait to see her. To hold her in his arms and kiss away the ugly memory of what that a-hole had tried to do to her.
He turned to Dayne. “Up for a little sneak ’n’ peak?”
Dayne grinned. “Always.”
Minutes later, they were hoofing it down the side of the road, having left their vehicles in the school parking lot. The rain had all but ceased, and a strong wind had picked up, ridding the air of heat and humidity.
Tiger strained at the leash as they neared the driveway to the barn, an indication of ammonium nitrate vapors wafting in their direction. Dayne and Remy followed a few feet behind.
After verifying there were no oncoming vehicles, they turned down the driveway then took c
over on the side of the barn facing away from the road.
“Zit,” Eric said then readjusted the heavy backpack slung over his shoulder.
Tiger sat, although his muscles quivered, a familiar sign that he wanted to charge right to the scent source.
Wind rustled trees, bringing with it droplets of water. For New Jersey, this was a fairly rural area, and the property was surrounded by trees on three sides, providing good cover. The only structure on the property was the barn. A mountain of rotten timbers stood where a house had once been.
Remy stood dutifully by Dayne’s side as his friend got to work picking the padlock on the barn door. Eric chuckled as he easily clicked open the lock.
He’d long ago discovered that Dayne was an expert at B & E. Only once had Dayne let something slip about his childhood, and it hadn’t been pretty. While Dayne hated talking about his past, Eric got the distinct impression that his friend’s ability to break into any room and crack any lock was tied to his childhood.
Quietly, Dayne slipped the chain from the barn door handles then slid one of the doors open.
“Hier.” Eric headed inside with Tiger.
The covert-entry—aka sneak ’n’ peak—warrant in Eric’s back pocket authorized them to access the barn without the owner’s permission or knowledge. They could conduct a search and even set up cameras, as long as they made no seizures.
When they were all inside, Dayne tugged the door shut. He and Remy stood guard, while Eric and Tiger got to work.
A window high in the barn’s dormer provided sufficient light to see the interior. The drums Tess had delivered sat grouped together at one end of the barn, while another drum was tucked in a corner on the opposite side.
Eric slid his backpack to the ground. Inside were padded cases containing three tiny high-tech cameras with power sources that would last up to a month and a transmitter box they would hide in the woods behind the barn. Agents stationed down the road in either direction would monitor the live feed 24/7. If the drums so much as twitched, they’d know in a heartbeat. He glanced around the barn, searching for the best places to surreptitiously install the cameras.