Pledged To Protect Complete Box Set: Three Romantic Suspense Romances

by Vella Day

  The overhead light flashed on, and he squinted against the glare.

  “Hello, Justin.”

  Her voice nearly paralyzed him. He shot his gaze toward his bound feet. “Mom?” His mother stood at the entrance to his room, ten feet from the edge of the bed.

  She’d aged. Her hair was now gray, her hips wider, and face more lined. Her beady eyes looked the same however—evil, sick, and quite insane.

  He attempted to sit up, but the ropes prevented him. “What the fuck did you do to me?” There was no question who was behind his hostage position.

  She waved a Taser at him. “I couldn’t chance you fighting me. I had to equalize the playing field.” She stated this as a matter of fact, devoid of emotion, as if she tied up people on a daily basis.

  He dropped his head against the pillow. “Jesus Christ.” When she didn’t say anything, he lifted his head up as high as he could. That was when he noticed Kelly kneeling his mom’s feet. “Kelly?” His voice cracked.

  A surprised shot of anger filled him at her bloodied and bruised face. Her hands and feet were tied, and her hair was matted on one side where a blood clot had formed. His mother stood behind her holding a bloodied knife at her side in one hand, the Taser in the other.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “Are you out of your mind? You kidnapped a doctor?” Not that her status in life should influence whether she was taken or not, but people would be looking for her—Derek Benally being one of them.

  “I’ve come to beg for her life.” His psycho mom smiled. “You owe me.”

  Beg for her life? What the hell did that mean? She had Kelly’s life in her hands. Christ. She’d gone further over the edge since he’d last seen her twelve years ago.

  “I don’t owe you shit.” She’d tried to frame her own son for murder for God’s sake.

  He knew he should go along with whatever she wanted until some form of reason intruded in her pathetic brain, but the years of anger toward her had built to a point where he’d never forgive her.

  Her lips went into a full-blown pout. “You ran out on me after your daddy died.”

  “I had to. I was not only angry that Dad killed himself, I was pissed about being so goddamn poor. It didn’t help that you never stopped harping at me.”

  “That’s because you never thought about me and how much I was hurting. Everything had to be about you. You, you, you.”

  He refrained from rolling his eyes. Justin wasn’t really in the position to piss her off any more than he already had. “I couldn’t come back to the house, remember? The police were looking for me.” Because of you, you old bitch.

  “That’s because you went and killed Novaro.”

  How could his own mother think that? Oh, yeah. Psycho bitch wasn’t rational. She hated all Indians—not that he blamed her. “I never touched him. I always figured you did the dirty deed.”

  She smiled. “You always were a smart boy.” The shift from accusatory to prideful came swiftly.

  His muscles relaxed for a second, and then stiffened. “You killed him, and then framed me, didn’t you?” If he ever got free, he’d kill her—just for the pleasure of seeing her die.

  He caught a movement. Kelly held her upper body rigid, but her hands were working to loosen the ropes in front of her. If he kept his mom talking, maybe she’d be able free herself and stop his mother—and get him out of this hell.

  His mom shrugged. “You were only eighteen. Besides, you had an alibi, and I figured it would take the focus off me. You were a strong boy. You would have come out unscathed.”

  Disgust raced through him. “What kind of mother are you?”

  Her eyes narrowed into slits and her jaw tightened. “I wouldn’t have had to kill him if you’d been a man and atoned for your daddy’s death.”

  His blood froze. “You’re insane,” he whispered.

  “I’m saner than you could ever imagine. How do you think I’ve gotten away with killing that stock broker man you hung out with or that disgusting foreigner? What was his name? Rafael something?”

  “You killed John LaBelle and Rafael Garcia? They weren’t even Native Americans for God’s sake.”

  The police had hunted him for weeks, convinced he’d killed those men. Good thing he’d had a rock solid alibi or the evidence would have put him away for good.

  “I know, but you liked them. My only regret was not waiting to kill them at a time when you didn’t have an excuse.” His mother’s eyes glazed over.

  He couldn’t believe she wanted to ruin his life. “My God. You were the one who planted the knife with my hair wrapped around the handle.”

  She cackled for a second, and then sobered. The right side of her lip curled upward. “It would have worked if those cops hadn’t been so incompetent.”

  He couldn’t believe the depth of her hatred. “And you killed Rayne and Stefanie.” It was a statement, not a question. The pieces of his life started to fall into place.

  Her body jerked rigid. “I had to kill that Indian princess. You got her pregnant. How could you?” she shouted, her yellowed fangs showing. Spittle dripped down her chin. “Didn’t I teach you anything?” She yanked Kelly’s head back by her hair.

  Kelly’s eyes widened and her mouth opened, but not a peep came out of her, and his admiration grew for the steely-willed doctor. Kelly was smart not to whimper. His mom hated any show of weakness.

  If his bedpost hadn’t been metal, he would have ripped his bed apart to escape, and then he would have strangled his mom. “Yeah. You taught me a lot. You taught me to hate, but I’m nothing like you.”

  “So I can see. You’re a weak, pathetic excuse for a man.”

  He bet she wouldn’t believe that if she’d seen how he’d killed Carl Vanderwall. He wasn’t stupid. If he told her, she’d run to the police.

  He was tired of this game. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to turn yourself in for Rayne’s murder. I told you that before. They’re closing in, and I can’t survive in prison.”

  “You’re outta your fuckin’ mind if you think I’d take the rap for you.”

  Her mom lowered the knife to Kelly’s throat and drew the tip across her neck. A large welt of blood pooled out, and Kelly gasped.

  “Go ahead. Kill her.” He put as much distain in his voice as possible.

  She pulled back Kelly’s head again, and blood gushed down her chest. Kelly’s eyes bugged out. Sure, he felt bad for her, but not bad enough to risk his hide.

  “This is my last warning. Just so you know, I wore your blue blazer the night I shot Rayne. Her blood is all over it. Once I deliver it to the police, they’re going to put you away for life.”

  Her smugness and audacity infuriated him. His fists clenched, and he debated whether to believe her. His mother’s comment about Rayne’s pregnancy sunk in. Only he, Rayne and her dad knew she was having a child.

  “How did you know she was pregnant?” His mom’s uncanny ability to know everything about his life had been driving him crazy.

  “Tsk, tsk. You know so little.” Her knife hand dangled by her side. “I even had you fooled, didn’t I? I was Rayne’s maid.”

  His mother looked down at Kelly before he could respond. “Stand up, girl.”

  Glaring back to Justin, his mother sneered. “You have twenty-four hours to turn yourself in. If you don’t, I’ll kill her and leave the jacket where the police can find the damning evidence. I need my freedom.”

  Before the message registered, she dragged Kelly out the door.

  “You can’t leave me here,” he shouted, struggling against his ropes, cursing when her only response was the gunning of her engine.

  The phone next to Derek’s bed rang. He leaned over the nightstand to check the number. “Precinct.” He groaned and fell back onto his pillow. He’d followed one lead after another last night trying to locate the elusive Justin Bladen, but by three in the morning his team had decided to wait until morning to continue the search.

 
; Before he arrived home, he left a message for Mariani, the Sheriff at Silverton, to let him know that Bladen was on the loose and to be on the lookout for him. Somehow, he doubted Justin would pick such an obvious spot to hide out, but Mrs. Wolfendon had provided a safe hiding place before.

  If the guy did plan to leave town, Tampa’s airport security or the bus terminal personnel would detain him. Nothing, however, would prevent him from leaving by car. Even though Derek had notified the Highway Patrol of Justin’s flight risk, the chances of them catching him were slim.

  The phone continued to ring. “All right, already.” He answered. “Benally.” He sat up, recognizing the chance to sleep was gone.

  “Detective Benally. This is Jodie with dispatch. We received a call about a yellow Volkswagen, belonging to a Kelly Rutland.”

  Every muscle tensed, his mind focused. “Did something happen?” His heart pounded.

  “The vehicle was found on the side of the road. Apparently, it had been involved in a major accident.”

  Derek froze. “And Ms. Rutland?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t have the status of her condition.”

  He asked more questions, but the dispatcher knew nothing more. Once he hung up, Derek called all the major hospitals in the area, but none knew anything about a Kelly Rutland. Next he tried her cell. Again, no answer. He refused to succumb to the panic that had his gut in a tight hold.

  He grabbed his sage packet and squeezed it tightly. “Help me,” he prayed, not expecting the guides to answer but hoping they would nonetheless.

  Derek was determined to find Kelly. The fact she was missing led him to believe one of the Bladen family members had a hand in her disappearance.

  He punched in Seinkievitz’s number, but the answering machine clicked on. “It’s Benally.” He told him about the call from the dispatcher. “Call me.” Crap. Seinkievitz slept like the dead.

  With his keys in hand, his cell rang again. Caller ID was a private number.

  “Benally.”

  “Thank God I got hold of you. This is Justin Bladen.”

  29

  Derek wasn’t sure he’d heard the man right. “Justin?” He pressed the button to raise the volume on his phone. A shot of hope tensed every muscle. Was he calling to turn himself in?

  “Yes. Hear me out, man. I just spent three hours trying to free myself from my bedposts.”

  Derek couldn’t form an image. “What are you talking about? And why call me? Call 9-1-1.”

  “You’re shitting me, right? Every cop in the county is after my ass. I have something to do first.”

  “Tell me.”

  “My mom Tasered me in my sleep, and then tied me to my bed. She has Kelly.” His words came out rushed as if he’d run a marathon.

  Derek stiffened, his body ready for action. “What do you mean, she has Kelly?”

  “My mother brought Kelly to my place with bound hands and feet. Her face was bruised. She looked, well, like hell.”

  From the distraught delivery, Derek believed him. The pieces began to make sense. “I received a call she was in a car accident.”

  “That explains a lot. I’m sorry, but I thought Mom had beaten her. Here’s the thing,” he rushed on without taking a breath. “My mom wants me to cop a plea for killing Rayne and Stefanie only I didn’t kill them. She did.” His voice escalated to a near shout.

  Now was not the time to debate the truth of Justin’s claim. “Go on.”

  “She said if I don’t do as she says, she’ll kill Kelly. And she only gave me—us—twenty-four hours.”

  A giant hand snaked up his gut, grabbed his heart, and almost squeezed the life out of him. “Do you believe her?” His heart beat hard in his chest.

  “Yes,” Justin shouted. “She killed not only your sister and Kelly’s sister, but admitted to killing three other people.”

  Derek’s mind whirred with horrible possibilities. The identity of Rayne’s murderer gave him some solace, but right now he needed to focus on Kelly. “Where did your mom take her?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “Where are you now?” He needed a plan. Fast. With his cell pressed against his ear, Derek pulled on a pair on jeans and threw on a button down shirt while he kept Justin on the line.

  “At home.”

  Derek’s men had searched Justin’s house numerous times. “No you aren’t. The truth.”

  “Not the one in Tampa. I have a safe house. You wouldn’t understand. My other place is a small, block home in Odessa. It’s a rental. I use it occasionally when I-I need to get away.”

  That’s why his men hadn’t found him. Derek needed Justin as a bargaining tool with Lilly Bladen. “Can you meet me?” Say yes.

  “Anything you want. I just want this nightmare to end before she hurts someone else.”

  Derek dashed out of his apartment and raced to his truck. He didn’t know where he needed to go, but staying home wasn’t an option.

  He didn’t know why the man had suddenly grown a conscience, but now wasn’t the time to debate his decision. Derek checked his watch, his heartbeat only now slowing. “You said your mom gave you a twenty-four hour deadline. When was this?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure. Two in the morning maybe. My wrists are so bruised and bloody from trying to escape that I lost track of time.”

  Derek had little sympathy for this jerk. “You sure you don’t have any idea where your mom might have taken Kelly?” He jumped in the front seat of his truck and stabbed the key in the ignition.

  “No. She’s not from around here. Wait. If she was Rayne’s maid, maybe—”

  Adrenaline spiked his heart. “What did you say?”

  “She was Rayne’s maid. What difference does it make now?”

  A hell of a difference. “Because she’s now working for my dad.” Fear and anger took hold of him and almost rendered him immobile. A tick stabbed his cheek.

  Derek forced the rest of his muscle to move. Don’t think. Do.

  He cranked up the engine and backed out of the parking place, and a hint of burned rubber filtered into the cab.

  “What do you want me to do?” Justin asked. “I feel this is partly my fault.”

  Try more than a little your fault. “We’ll meet halfway.”

  They discussed a location on North Dale Mabry before disconnecting.

  Derek needed to warn his dad. Now. He knew neither Dad nor Billy would be up this early, but given the emergency, he had to wake them.

  The phone rang only once. “Hello?”

  “Billy, this is Uncle Derek.”

  “How did you find out so fast?” he asked. “I was just going to call you.”

  Now it was Derek’s turn to be confused. “About what?”

  “The paramedics took Grandpa to the hospital a few minutes ago.”

  Shit. Fuck. Dammit. His world spun. “What happened?” If Lilly Bladen harmed his dad, he didn’t know if he could control himself when he got his hands on her.

  “Grandpa said his chest hurt this morning, and he looked real bad too. We learned in school all about the signs of a heart attack. He didn’t want to go the hospital, but I called 9-1-1 anyway.”

  Pride swelled. “You did the right thing.”

  “Granddad even threw up, but I cleaned up.”

  “You should be proud of yourself.”

  “I tried calling you first,” Billy rushed on, acting as if he hadn’t heard the compliment. “But your line was busy.” Strain raised his voice.

  “Sorry. I just found out Kelly was missing. She’ll die if I don’t find her soon.” Derek swallowed, trying to suppress his emotions. “But promise me something.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t let Mrs. Lupold near you or Dad. She’s Justin’s mom, and she killed your mother.” Billy didn’t answer him. Derek waited a beat, praying Billy would understand. “Billy, you okay?”

  “It’s all my fault then.”

  He remembered Billy mentioning he suggested Dad hire Mrs. Lupo
ld--AKA Lilly Bladen.

  Lupold.

  Of course. Now he remembered where he’d heard that name. She was the cook for the leader of the white supremacist group in Utah. Either Lilly was in town during their visit, or she stole the name.

  “Listen to me. It’s nobody’s fault. I want you to call Tom, Grandpa’s good friend. His number is on the refrigerator. Tell him what happened, and have him to take you to the hospital. Now.” He took a deep breath. “And Billy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t leave grandpa’s side for any reason. Don’t go back to the house until I tell you it’s safe, okay?”

  “Okay.” Billy’s voice sounded young. Too young. Guilt at not rushing to his father’s side warred with saving Kelly. Derek’s father was in good hands though, and now Billy would be safe. It was Kelly who needed him.

  Anxious to meet up with Justin, Derek put a flashing light on top of his truck and pressed the pedal to the floor.

  Kelly didn’t know which was worse—being shoved in the trunk of a car and threatened by a maniacal woman or being tied down inside a train boxcar that smelled of cattle and bleach. She could barely breathe from the dampness and intense odor. Of course, the stinky bandana Lilly Bladen tied around her mouth didn’t help in breathing in quality air. The old rag tasted of mold and some rank chemical.

  The woman was totally crazy. She’d tied Kelly’s hands behind her back, and then wove the rope through some kind of metal eyelet in the wall. If that wasn’t enough to keep her there, Lilly secured her legs together. She’d have more movement in a straight jacket.

  Lilly had even bitched the whole time about having to work inside the dirty boxcar. Who told her to go there? She had to have known deserted rail cars weren’t designed to be germ free.

  Halfway through the take-Kelly-out-of-commission procedure, Lilly had used some kind of air freshener and sprayed the place down. The fumes alone nearly killed Kelly. What kind of woman tried to sanitize a hellhole? With a bleach byproduct, no less.

  Kelly knew.

  An insane one.

  Thank God the woman left shortly after she finished, but Kelly was beginning to wonder what else was in store for her. Surely, Justin’s mom wouldn’t leave her here to die of thirst. Sick people needed closure, needed to see other people’s pain, and they certainly needed the control.