After a few miles, a road sign indicated another town coming up. On one hand, it might be safer with people around if anything happened, but then people might notice her, and if Chad went that way and asked around, they would confirm which way she had gone. On reflection, she decided it was safer to take the alternative route that led through the countryside. With any luck no one would see her there, not even Chad.
The country roads were winding and narrow, and she began to wonder if this had been the best way to go after all. She had to slow down as she approached yet another blind bend, and her heart leapt. She was sure she had seen a car behind her. As soon as it was safe to do so, she sped up, but the car continued to follow, gaining on her. A cold chill ran up her spine when she caught a good glimpse of the car—a pale blue sports car. In that second she would have given anything for it to have been a few shades darker and a good few years younger—making it Rich Buchanan’s—but it wasn’t. It was definitely Chad’s.
She pushed her foot to the floor and yanked the stick shift into gear before accelerating as hard as she could. It was no good. Her car was no match for his. She broke again for another sharp bend and was horrified to find that the car didn’t slow. It hardly reacted at all. She took the bend at a dangerous speed, praying that nothing was coming the other way. It wasn’t. But as soon as the road straightened out again, she felt a massive jolt as the car behind nudged her trunk. She shrieked and stared into the rearview mirror. Chad’s face was contorted into an ugly sneer as he watched her cringe. She snapped her head around to the front again and hit the gas hard. He was on her tail the whole time. Another bend was coming up with a car heading toward her.
Brooke hit the brake and nothing happened. She pumped the pedal frantically, but she continued to whizz headlong toward the bend—and the oncoming car. She veered to the side of the road, praying they could pass safely, even at that speed, but her prayer went unanswered. She hauled the steering wheel out of the path of the other car, and her vehicle swerved off the road and into woodland. For a fraction of a section, she thought she might be OK, that the rough terrain might just slow the car down enough for it to stop. Then she saw the line of trees blocking her route. She continued to pump the brake, but it was no good. She yanked on the steering wheel and the car slid sideways into the thick, calloused bark of one of the trees. Searing pain coursed through her body just before the whole world went dark.
* * *
Travis’s foot was constantly to the floor of his pickup as he sped along the familiar roads outside town. He could see Mason in his rearview mirror. Mason was a good man, and Travis trusted him to help all he could. He just hoped that they weren’t too late.
“I can’t believe I let her down again.” Kent cursed as he stared out of the windshield.
“Like you had a choice, buddy? That fuckwad knew exactly how to stop us from saving our girl. Anything else and we would’ve left it and run down to that hotel. He would have guessed that we couldn’t just leave the horses to burn to death!”
“So what if she burns to death? There were two pools of fluid, bro—those brakes of hers have been cut front and back. She doesn’t stand a chance!” Kent’s voice was low and his face was white.
“Let’s just concentrate on finding her, shall we? Town or country?”
Kent looked up in surprise at the question, and then seemed to realize where they were. “There’s pros and cons to both of them, but my guess is she’ll go for country. She’ll feel safer if there’s no one around.” He sighed. Travis didn’t blame him. Everything was riding on Kent’s deduction skills.
“I agree. We go this way.” Travis steered the car toward the country road and then cursed when he had to slow down. “Fuck! Those dang brakes won’t last long on these roads.”
Kent closed his eyes momentarily, and Travis realized he should have kept his mouth shut. Poor Kent blamed himself for everything. He was sure to blame himself for this too, even though Lord knows he couldn’t have done anything to prevent it. “Come on, bud, you need to be looking out for that beat-up old banger of hers. With any luck, she’ll have holed up somewhere to check her map or something.” He knew it was a long shot, but he had to keep positive for Kent’s sake. Once the deputy got into one of his funks, it could be days before he climbed back out, and Travis needed him more than ever right now.
Both guys pricked up their ears when they heard Jolene’s cheery voice come over the radio.
“Hi, Sheriff, Deputy. I just got a call from Stella at the Montgomery, said I need to call you right away. She was cleaning out Brooke Adams’s room and she found something under the bed. She said she thought it looked like a letter, a sort of statement. Anyway, it claims that she lied to the police about some guy beating her up and says she just tried to get him into trouble ’cause he dumped her. There’s a long list of stuff she’s accused him of and the letter says it’s all bullshit, or words to that effect. Says she sustained all her scars before she even met Chad West, and that she doesn’t know who attacked her in the alley that night. Does that mean something to you?”
Mason Bains let out a big sigh over the radio. “Yes. Thanks, Jolene. Let me know if you hear anything else.”
“Will do, Sheriff.”
“Bullshit! She didn’t cut her own brakes, did she? And who wrote the note?” Travis snorted.
“Well it’s possible those things were planted to hold up her story if she is trying to implicate this guy in something,” Mason replied.
“I saw those welts on her body, Sheriff, and some of them were definitely recent. She was with that fucker for at least a year that we know of. He did it, I’m telling you.” Travis was certain.
“What do you reckon, Deputy?”
Kent thought for a minute. “The only thing she ever told us was her name, and that wasn’t entirely true.” Kent pouted as he spoke. He seemed to go real cold. Poor Kent probably didn’t want to think of her as a liar.
“Yeah, but it didn’t hurt anyone. The only thing it did was stop you from helping her. That’s not a crime, is it?” Travis was adamant.
“No. It wasn’t really a lie, either. Her first name is definitely Brooke and, to be honest, her surname is really none of our business. That girl’s not a liar, boss. I believe in her. Did she definitely write that letter they found?” Kent frowned. None of this was adding up.
“No, I think Jolene said it was typed but not signed. Why would she be carrying it around with her, though, if she wasn’t trying to use it as evidence?” Mason replied thoughtfully.
“Well that’s it, then. She hasn’t signed it. She probably never even wrote it, or if she did, it was under duress. I believe in her, boss. She’s the kindest, sweetest, most adorable thing I ever… Shit!” Kent stared in disbelief at the sight of the twisted-up wreck nestled in the trees to the side of the road. Travis could hear his heart thudding from the other side of the truck. Travis said nothing. He veered off the road and pulled up in front of the crashed car. His heart was in his boots as he followed Kent over to the mashed metal.
“Brooke? Baby, are you there?” Kent’s voice sounded strangled as he called out. The passenger door had hit the tree first, but the metal had concertinaed. If Brooke was in there, it was doubtful she’d be in any state to call back to him.
Travis tried to get his arm in through a broken window to try to feel for her. There was no way either of them could get inside; it was too wrecked. Kent was searching the area, presumably hoping for signs of her or her belongings. Travis knew that he would be hoping—as he was—that Brooke had got out before the car smashed into the trees.
“I’d lay a dollar to a penny she’s gone,” Mason said gravely as he walked over to them.
Travis shook his head. “I can’t find anything in there,” he confirmed.
“Look.” Mason pointed to some tire tracks that had come off the road and stopped in front of the trees. It appeared that the same tracks then wound in a loop back onto the road.
“The fuckwad’s
got her!” Travis’s eyes were staring in disbelief.
“Come on, bro.” Kent was already running toward the pickup. Seconds later, the two cars rejoined the road while three hearts pounded like thunder.
Chapter Twelve
“There’s no way she got out of that wreck by herself. She either got out before the crash or he got her out after.” Kent was staring out the window, trying to make sense of it all.
“Unless she got out and ran?” Travis kept his eyes peeled for any sign of her as he drove carefully through the winding country lanes.
Kent shook his head. “Even if she got out before the car hit that tree, she was going way too fast to walk away from it.”
“So the fuckwad either got her out or caught up with her as she tried to escape. Where the hell would he take her to? There’s no buildings or anything around here, is there?” Travis frowned.
Kent shook his head. “Possibly the odd wood shack, but that’s all. No one lives out here that I know of.”
Travis sighed.
They traveled on for what seemed forever. It was difficult to decide whether to go slow enough to look out for any sign of them or to speed up in case he had hightailed it out of there once he’d gotten her.
“I think we need to split up, boys,” Mason called over the radio. “You keep checking the area while I step on it in case he’s making a run for it.”
“I agree,” Kent replied. “Keep in touch.”
With that, the sheriff’s SUV overtook them and sped off into the distance. Travis huffed. He probably wanted to be the one putting his foot down and getting on with the job instead of slowly driving down the lanes looking out for signs of life. He’d understand that Mason could drive a lot faster than he could, though, so he’d let it go.
The air was getting cooler, and Kent felt the cold deep in his bones. He couldn’t tell Travis that the likelihood of her still being alive was dwindling by the minute. From what he had read about Chad West, he was a desperate man. Not only were the cops in Chicago after him, but they had put out calls for his arrest everywhere from there to Colorado and beyond. No one was going to pass up the opportunity to get scum like that off the streets; attacking a woman was one crime that even the most lenient cops wouldn’t tolerate. Kent prided himself on being the fairest lawman he could be, but he was also a lover and would do everything in his power to save that girl.
“You don’t believe all that shit about her lying about the accusations, do you?” Travis’s question yanked him from his thoughts.
“No, I don’t.” He spoke without even thinking.
Travis grinned, nodding slowly.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Kent said without even looking at him. “I wasn’t sure if we could trust her at first. When I found out she lied about her name, I figured she probably lied about other stuff too. I was wrong. I admit it. I just had to know. I needed to be certain she was for real. She seemed too perfect; I was suspicious. We both sensed she was in some kind of trouble, and with the scars and everything, it just went right on to prove it. I just wanted to know which side of the law she was in trouble with, that’s all.”
“Did it matter?” Travis studied him thoughtfully.
Kent shook his head. “Nope. I just figured it was easier knowing what we were dealing with, you know?” He shrugged, looking over at his partner.
Travis grinned. “Yeah, I know, buddy. If she’d told us what the hell was going on, we wouldn’t be here now. But she had her reasons. She had to know if she could trust us.”
“You think she knows yet?”
“I think the fact that she spent all that time trying to call us this morning would suggest that she does,” Travis drawled.
“I think so too,” Kent added decisively.
Travis sighed. “So we better not let her down.”
Kent frowned and picked up the radio. “Any news yet, boss?”
Mason Bains sounded cross. “No sign. I don’t reckon he could’ve got this far without me seeing him. It’s one straight road up here; there’s nowhere to hide. I’m coming back your way. Chances are he’s slipped onto a country lane somewhere, skulking around like the coward he is.”
“OK, boss.” Kent frowned. “He’s got to be around here somewhere, bro. He’ll likely know we’re coming after him and try to bide his time until we give up.” He peered out of the window intently again.
“He don’t know us, does he?” Travis shook his head incredulously.
“Nope. If he thinks we’re gonna give up on our girl, he’s got another think coming.”
Travis grinned at his lover’s determination.
They traveled on in silence for a while, both staring out the windows. Most of the roads were nothing but dirt tracks, and the men shook about as the truck bounced up and down over the rocks and mud.
“There!” Travis suddenly shouted, gaping at the empty road ahead.
Kent focused on the spot he was looking at. “We’ve got him!” He spoke through gritted teeth.
“Come in, Sheriff,” Kent spoke into the radio as Travis neared the track lines that had kicked a heap of mud off the road and onto the grass verge. They were headed into a forest.
“Go ahead.”
“Sheriff, we’ve got something. Tire tracks leading off into the forest.” Kent was calm but his heart was thumping in anticipation.
Travis followed the muddy tracks through lush grass, maneuvering carefully between the trees. Kent relayed their location as best he could, clinging to the grip bar above his door as the truck ricocheted over the rough terrain. Four eyes and four ears searched in every direction for some sign of life. The track seemed to go on forever.
“Through there!” Kent pointed to what looked like part of a wooden structure partially hidden among the trees.
Travis drove as close as he could, seeing that it was a derelict old barn or shack one of the local farmers must have used at one time. Trees blocked their route, given the width of the pickup, so they would have to walk the rest of the way. Kent informed Mason of their approximate position before following his partner out of the vehicle. They cautiously made their way through the trees, checking their surroundings as they went.
“Car.” Travis mouthed the word as he pointed to a piece of blue metal half-secluded around the side of the shack. Kent nodded. Stealthily they crept though the long grass and neared the disused shack.
Suddenly a scream froze them both to the spot. It wasn’t an ear-piercing, loud shriek; this was a weak cry of desperation. The men stared at each other before bursting into action. They ran over to the shack, slowing their steps as they neared it. They peered through a broken window at a sight that numbed their very souls.
* * *
Brooke’s eyes felt heavy as she slowly opened them to find herself lying on a hard wooden bench in what looked like a tumbled-down shed. Every part of her body hurt, and she groaned in pain.
“Shut up, slut.” She recognized the callous voice that snarled at her, and every hair on her body stood up on end. A frozen chill seared through her whole being and for a fraction of a second she wished she was already dead.
“Sit up, you fat, lazy cow.” Chad came into her blurred line of sight, and she moaned uncontrollably as he kicked the bench she was lying on. More pain coursed through her from her head to her feet.
“Ch-Chad?”
“Who else?” he sneered. “I told you to sit up!”
His voice resounded in her throbbing head, and she tried to pull herself up. Too late. He kicked the bench again, and the pain was unbearable as the vibration ricocheted down her back. She shrieked in agony and then cowered as his massive frame towered angrily over her. Placing her bloody hands on either side of the bench, she forced herself to sit up. The pain scorched through her back, and she bit her lip hard to keep from screaming. Her head was swimming as she rose, and the room seemed to spin around her in dingy hues of brown. Light streamed in through broken windows and half the roof that was missing. It burned her
eyes, and she squeezed them shut in defense. The stench of damp wood and sweat assaulted her.
“Hurry up!” Chad’s clipped, threatening voice planted more dread inside her, and she felt as though she was about to vomit as she slowly turned herself around to look at him.
“At fucking long last. Are you gonna take this long to do everything you’re told to?” he shouted through gritted teeth, and she winced.
“N-no,” she replied weakly, still trying to focus her eyes. She swayed slightly as she tried to balance, and gripped the top of the bench as blood ran off her hands onto the wooden floor.
“No what? Haven’t you learned anything, slut?”
“Yes…I mean…no…no, sir,” she stammered. Her brain felt like marshmallow and she couldn’t think straight. It seemed to irritate him even more.
“Halle-fucking-lujah!” he sneered.
She was staring up at him, trying to focus on his face. It was still blurry, but the more she peered at it, the more it seemed to clarify. His eyes were small and gray. They looked cold and mean. He had a long nose that she remembered thinking looked manly, almost Roman; now she saw that it was skinny and little out of line with the rest of his face. His lips were thin and formed a small slit across his pale skin. His dirty-blond hair was straggly and just hung in straight lines down to his shoulders. This wasn’t the man she remembered at all! She had thought he was a very handsome man, with an authoritative demeanor that commanded respect from everyone around him. As time had gone on, she had thought he was frightening, brutal, but still attractive. Now she saw before her an ugly, puny coward. How had she not seen that before? His face seemed to be contorted into a permanent sneer, making him look even more grotesque.
Ménage on Moone Mountain Page 12