Valley of Surrender Series - Vol.1

by Trent Evans

  Because you’re fucked up, Falon. Ever hear of Stockholm syndrome?

  Whether or not that was what this was seemed utterly irrelevant now. She knew what had grown between them. She’d felt the warmth, the affection, the need from him. It hadn’t been her imagination. It hadn’t been some psychological coping mechanism.

  And yet, he still couldn’t bridge that gap. Whatever it was holding him back — maybe fear, or caution, or something else entirely — he was still shut off to her. That one most vital connection, the one she needed — and the one that would have kept her in White Valley — was the door to his heart he still kept frustratingly shut. If only he could see what she could bring him? If only he could see that she’d accept the needs he harbored, the dark drives that scared, and shamed, and drove him all at once. She could take all of it, drown herself in it, be that key to unlocking it all.

  What it took though was one simple thing.

  His love.

  But without it, the only way this could end was in disappointment, sorrow, and loss.

  Making Ford Mathis but a sweet memory, even if it was an agony she could barely endure, was far better than that.

  Far better to remember what they’d had, even if it had only been a few passionate, magical weeks. She could take that with her, at least.

  Then she saw it.

  A black SUV was looming up behind her, closing at high speed. Her heart was in her throat as she sped up as much as she dared in the heavy rain, glancing in her mirror, trying to get a look at the driver.

  Probably nothing.

  She’d hook up with the main highway soon, and there would at last be some other signs of life — or at least other cars.

  The truck behind her flicked its brights on and off, and she felt her mouth go dry.

  Relax, Falon. He just wants to get by.

  “It’s your funeral, asshole,” she muttered, slowing and moving the car over to the shoulder, the gravel crackling against the undercarriage. Passing in this kind of weather was suicide, but she’d let him chance it.

  But the SUV didn’t pass her.

  “Come on, there’s nobody coming.” She slowed further to give him a chance to dash by.

  Still it didn’t pass, drawing even closer, the grill filling the reflection in the rearview mirror, the sound of the truck’s roaring engine clearly audible.

  She squinted ahead, hoping to find a place to pull over. Her heart was pounding, a low rushing beginning in her ears. A flicker, then another, in her mirror, and she looked up, thinking it was more lightning.

  Then she saw it again as she glanced at her rearview mirror.

  Blue lights were flashing from the truck behind her.

  “Goddammit,” she muttered. “Someone’s pulling me over in this shit?”

  Easing the car over as far as she could, she pulled to a stop, the rain even heavier now, pounding upon the metal roof.

  She waited, deciding not to look in the glovebox for her registration just yet, knowing the cop would be running her plates. A sense of unease was rising within her, and for now she wanted to keep an eye on that truck. Something wasn’t right about this.

  Relax, Falon.

  A hulking, bearded man wearing a hooded, dark brown ankle length coat got out of the truck. Walking up to her window, Falon swallowed down a yelp as he tapped the glass with the butt of a very large pistol, the silver plating seeming to shimmer even in the dreary gray of the rain.

  Stay calm. You can do this.

  She rolled the window down, her pulse galloping frantically now.

  “Cut the ignition,” the man said, dropping to a crouch and laying an arm across her door, water flowing off his coat onto her sleeve. She obeyed with trembling hands, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest.

  “Is there a problem, officer?” she said in a tiny voice as she turned her head toward him.

  His bearded face brightened with a leering grin. “Not anymore, Falon.”

  Oh dear God, he knows who I am.

  Then she heard the sound of a gun cocking, and from behind her, a black Beretta extended out the window from the back seat, the barrel inches from the crouching man’s face.

  “Drop that gun, Jack, or I’ll shoot you,” Ford said.

  Chapter 23

  Ford strode down the shadowed corridor in the Council building, hauling Graves along with him. Falon trailed several steps away, as if, despite his hands cuffed securely behind his back, the hulking man still posed a mortal danger to her. Perhaps he did.

  Shouldering open the door to the Council chamber, Ford wasn’t surprised to see it empty. The Council would either call a meeting about this, or Ford would go to the state. He knew they’d show though; they couldn’t risk what a pissed off Sheriff might do next if they stonewalled him.

  “What if they don’t come?” Falon’s eyes never left Graves as she said it.

  The bearded, broad-shouldered man didn’t say a word though, simply staring straight ahead. Graves was alarmingly calm, considering the circumstances — which Ford knew was never a good sign.

  He shoved Graves into a chair behind one of the tables flanking the lectern, the man grunting as he landed.

  “You sit there, and shut up. I don’t want a word out of you. You got me?”

  “Whatever you say, Sheriff,” the man said with a slight shrug, his voice deep and clear.

  Completely unfazed. Not good.

  He seated Falon at the other table on the opposite side of the lectern. He took her hand, squeezing it, meeting her eyes. Cold dread clutched his vitals again at the thought of what might have happened to her had he not been in that car with her. The small, warm smile she gave him bolstered his resolve. She knew what he had to do as much as he did.

  The door behind the Council bench opened then, Von the first one through. He met Ford’s gaze as he sat down, but his friend’s eyes were unreadable. Could it really be him? Ford still didn’t want to believe it, but at this point, he knew anything was possible. Falon mattered more than any friendship though — even Von’s. She… was everything now.

  Even if he could never tell her.

  Corddray and Leigh Harcourt followed, talking in hushed murmurs as they took their seats, neither one so much as looking toward Ford and Falon.

  Leigh cleared her throat, a glance flicking toward Graves before she addressed Ford.

  “This better be good, Sheriff. I interrupted a meeting with an aerospace parts manufacturer. I thought we had a good chance at landing a new factory — before you blew up my phone.”

  Corddray sat utterly still, watching Leigh, as was his habit, his cool manner as unsettling as ever.

  Ford jabbed a finger at Graves. “This piece of shit was caught impersonating a cop — and attempting to abduct Falon Moore. My Falon Moore.”

  “What proof do you have that he was attempting to abduct anyone?” Corddray asked, one dark brow arched. “Has be given you any statement?”

  “Funny that you say that, Councilor.” Ford grasped the edges of the lectern, trying to keep his rage in check. He knew the person responsible for this was in that room — and it wasn’t really Jack Graves. “Mr. Graves here refused to say anything — except that the Council would take care of it. Now, I wonder why he thinks that?”

  Corddray and Leigh whispered something between them, the woman glaring at Corddray as he gestured vigorously, his voice more a hiss than a murmur. Finally, she shook her head with a wince, holding a hand up at Corddray.

  Leigh met Ford’s gaze. “I’m going to need you to release Mr. Graves.”

  “I’m booking him. Why in hell would I do that?”

  He already knew though. How could he have misjudged Leigh so badly? She was either taking the side of whoever was really orchestrating this — or she was the one behind all of it. The betrayal he felt filled him with a cold rage, a frustration he knew was dangerously close to boiling over. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. Not here.

  “Which one of you was it?”
He looked to each of the Council members in turn, only Von looking away, unable to hold his gaze. Leigh merely regarded him with her cool, keen eyes, unreadable as always. Corddray’s lips had curled into something between a sneer and a grin.

  “The Council doesn’t need to provide you with a reason, Sheriff.” Corddray laced his fingers together on the tabletop before him. “You’ll do it — because you were told to.”

  “Oh, it was a good story all right. But your little scheme didn’t count on one thing, did it?” Ford looked over at Falon, and she gave him a little nod, her smooth jaw firm, determination in her eyes. “She disclosed her source.”

  Leigh’s gaze flickered, Corddray’s lips pressing to a thin line.

  “Holy shit,” Von said under his breath.

  “Which we all know now was a wild goose chase, don’t we? I can assure you that Keenan wasn’t pleased with being dragged into this — and Mr. Wingate is not someone you want to cross. So, I want to know — who was it? And why? Because the only conclusion I can draw is that someone wanted Falon to come here — and it sure as hell wasn’t to blow the lid off some lurid scandal.” He glared at all of them again. “So tell me. Who wanted to lure an innocent reporter to White Valley?”

  “What about your little report to us then? What was that?” Corddray’s jaw clenched tight, his eyes narrowing. “Was that all bullshit?”

  “It’s called flushing out a rat. But I still don’t know which one of you it is.” He glanced at Von. “Or maybe it’s all of you?”

  “Jack Graves works for me, Sheriff.” Miles said, nodding toward the handcuffed man. “So, I suggest you do what Councilmember Harcourt told you.”

  Leigh didn’t say a thing, didn’t even move, her mouth a tight straight line, but Von exploded out of his chair.

  “You sonofabitch! Who the fuck do you think you are, Miles?” Von charged toward his colleague, Leigh’s arms windmilling up between the two men. “You like kidnapping helpless women? Try me. I’ll kill you, motherfucker!”

  “Sit down, Ellison!”

  Corddray barely moved though, looking up at Ellison with a smug defiance Ford wanted to beat off of his face.

  Leigh shot to her feet, squaring up with Von, glaring at him, her fists bunched at her sides. The comparatively tiny woman didn’t cede an inch of ground to the towering enraged man. “This is the Council chambers, Ellison. You will sit down and get control of yourself.”

  Though Ford’s hand hovered over his sidearm as he watched the scene unfolding, an overwhelming sense of relief flooded through him at his friend’s volcanic reaction.

  It wasn’t Von. His friend had been true to both he and Falon.

  Thank, Christ.

  The guilt was just as strong though, an aching pang at the suspicion of his friend that Ford had allowed to grow. He watched Von drop back into his seat, the man’s face beet red, his eyes positively flaming as he looked over at Corddray. “We’re not done, you and me,” Von snarled.

  The cold Councilman simply grinned, as oddly at ease as his subordinate had been after Ford took him into custody.

  Leigh shot Von a withering look. “That’s enough, Ellison. Any more outbursts and you can excuse yourself.”

  Von didn’t respond though, looking up, the cords at the base of his throat standing out, his fist clenched upon the tabletop before him. Then he took a deep breath, finally giving Leigh a small nod.

  “I’m asking you again, Sheriff Mathis. Release Mr. Graves.”

  “There’s no fucking way I’m releasing this asshole. Especially now that I know who he works for.” He looked at Miles. “You’re sunk, Corddray. You thought you could come after Ms. Moore? Think again. She’s mine. She always will be. And there’s nothing I won’t do to protect her — no matter what it takes. You picked the wrong girl to fuck with.”

  Ford looked over at Falon then, her eyes brimming as she met his gaze. He wanted to go to her in that moment, hold her, shield her from all of this, whisper to her that he’d make it all go away. The thought of her in danger, scared, hurting… it tore at him. A physical and emotional pain.

  He had been so close to losing her.

  Corddray may not get her — but you’re still going to lose her. You know this, Ford.

  “Let me remind you,” Leigh said, nodding toward the entrance. Ford turned to see two black-suited guards slip inside, flanking the door. “Lieutenants or associates of Council members are not to be taken into custody — the Council itself handles those matters, as it always has. I shouldn’t need to remind you of this, Sheriff.”

  Of course, it was true. He’d been forced to look the other way before — but it was over piddly shit like speeding or parking tickets.

  This wasn’t even in the same galaxy — but it didn’t mean she was wrong.

  Another time, Ford.

  Though it made him almost physically ill to do it, he yanked Graves to his feet, spinning him around. He leaned in close as he undid the cuffs. “You come near her again, and you’re a dead man.”

  Graves faced him slowly, rubbing at his wrists, giving him a serene, almost indulgent grin. “Nice to see ya again, Sheriff.”

  “Get the fuck out of my sight.”

  The black-suited guards escorted Miles’ lieutenant from the Chamber then, the bearded man looking back one last time and winking at Falon.

  “Fuck you!” Falon spat back at Graves.

  Ford went to her then, pulling her to her feet and holding her to his side. She hugged herself to him with a fervency at once gratifying and alarming.

  “Almost done,” Ford whispered to her, and she nodded against him.

  She seemed to know quite well how much danger they still might be in.

  “I think you’ve wasted enough of my time already with your baseless accusations, Sheriff. When you have anything resembling evidence rather than an axe to grind over your little whore there, perhaps we can have another fun little pow-wow? Hmm?” Miles stood, straightening the cuffs of his shirt, nodding at his fellow Councilmembers. “Harcourt. Ellison.”

  Miles opened the door behind the Council bench.

  “This isn’t finished, Corddray.”

  Pausing, Miles looked back. “For you, I expect it is.” Then he shifted his cold gaze to Falon. “We’ll see about her though.”

  Then he was gone, Von cursing under his breath as Leigh wiped a hand across her face.

  Ford took a deep breath. “Since the Council’s made their position crystal clear on this mess, I think we’re leaving now.”

  Though he now knew who the real enemy was, he knew just as well that he couldn’t do a thing about it. It had been a possibility he’d considered — and dreaded — but still, he’d hoped it wouldn’t come down to this.

  “We want to interview Ms. Moore,” Leigh said. “Alone.”

  “Over my dead body,” Ford shot back, tucking her even closer to his side.

  “That’s an order, Sheriff.” Leigh’s gaze glinted as she frowned.

  “Listen to her, Ford,” Von said, inclining his head. “I won’t let anything—”

  “Consider this my two second resignation then.” Ford took off his badge, dropping it on the lectern, unsnapping the strap at his holster and laying his sidearm down too.

  “Falon stays with me. She’s mine. I vowed to protect her, no matter what. No matter what happens here. I’ll never let her be in danger again. Count on it.”

  “You need to consider this carefully, Sheriff,” Leigh said, leaning forward, her eyes suddenly brilliant, a coldness there he’d only seen a handful of times before. “You walk out of here with her… and there’s no going back.”

  “Don’t do this,” Von said, holding out a hand, grimacing. “We can… let’s talk about this first.”

  “Sheriff…” Leigh sat back with a slow, resigned shake of her head.

  “Just let him go,” Von said. “He’ll calm down, eventually.”

  Ford marched from the chamber then, Falon in tow, fully expecting to be confronte
d by the Council’s muscle.

  But they never came.

  As they exited, Leigh Harcourt’s voice called out. “Where are you going?”

  Ford held the door open long enough to yell back. “I’m going home. I can’t stand the sight of this fucking place right now.”

  Chapter 24

  They’d barely walked a block before Falon ripped herself from Ford’s grasp. She stood her ground on the wet sidewalk of downtown White Valley, crossing her arms, prepared for the worst. She tried to ignore the inquisitive glances from the passing cars. A stocky man in a tan suit across the street stopped and looked their way, intent on watching the scene she was about to cause.

  “I’m not going with you.”

  Ford wheeled around, staring at her. But rather than anger, or a promise of torment once he got her back in her cage at home, she saw something else entirely in his gorgeous, haunted eyes.

  Fear.

  But there was more than that though. Despite that fear there was warmth there too, something he’d only allowed her glimpses of in the long hours and days of her ordeal. Was it affection, or was she imagining things? Could it be that he’d struggled inside with the same feelings she had, with the same hope of creating something from the impossible?

  “Yes, you are,” he said, his jaw tightening.

  “Did you really mean everything you said in there? About protecting me, no matter what it took? No matter how long?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you need to—”

  Ford advanced on her, laying a finger across her lips. Then he grasped her by the arms. “You listen to me, Falon Moore. I meant every fucking word of it. I don’t care about what’s happened between us, what you might think about what’s gone on before. This is now, and none of that matters anymore. What matters is the future — and you being a part of it, whatever that is.” He shook her, drawing her up on her tiptoes, her tears already falling. “You’re mine, Ms. Moore. You know it, and I know it. The question is: what are we going to do about it. This is my last chance. There’s nothing more after this.”