Sheltered by the Cowboy

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Sheltered by the Cowboy Page 12

by Carla Cassidy


  Brody, help me, she cried in her mind. He was so close...just outside in his truck, but he might as well have been a thousand miles away. She wanted to cry, but she had no breath. She couldn’t fight because she had no strength left.

  Her lungs began to burn with the desperate need for oxygen. She had no idea who he was. The man was killing her. Dark shadows flirted around the edges of her vision.

  She was dying.

  That was her last thought. Then the darkness claimed her.

  * * *

  Brody tapped his finger a bit impatiently against the steering wheel, wondering what was taking Mandy so long. Usually once she closed the awning it only took her a minute or two to reappear from the back of the booth. Tonight it seemed to be taking her much longer. He waited another couple of minutes and then got out of his truck.

  “Mandy?” he called out before he reached the booth’s back door. He rounded the corner of the structure and a man in a black coat and a ski mask exploded out of the door and took off running in the opposite direction.

  Shock swept through him. Although he wanted to chase after the bastard, instead a panic made his heart race as he thought of Mandy. He hurried into the booth as a sense of horrendous dread filled him.

  The dread was realized as he saw Mandy lying still on the floor. “Mandy!” He fumbled for his cell phone as he ran to her side.

  He fell to his knees beside her at the same time Dillon answered the call. “Get an ambulance to the booth. Somebody attacked Mandy and she’s hurt. He’s running down the back alley.”

  “On my way,” Dillon replied.

  Brody dropped the phone. “Mandy...wake up. Please wake up.” Was she dead? No, she couldn’t be. He refused to believe it. He placed a finger on her pulse point in her neck.

  Nothing. Oh God, he felt nothing. Guilt and grief surged up inside him. No. This couldn’t be happening. They hadn’t thought about the booth’s back door. He hadn’t considered that anyone would be bold enough to attack her here with him just outside.

  He moved his fingers frantically against her skin—bright red skin—desperate to feel a pulse of life. He had no idea what the man had done to her. He saw no blood that would indicate a wound, but he was afraid to move her to check for injury to her back.

  There! A faint beat against his fingertips. He nearly sobbed in relief. “Mandy, I’m right here. Hang on. Help is coming.” He had no idea if she could hear him or not, but it didn’t matter.

  All that mattered was that she was still alive.

  As he lifted his fingers from her pulse point, he stared at the angry redness and purpling around her neck. Strangled. His blood ran cold. She’d been strangled and there was no question in his mind that she’d be dead now if he hadn’t decided to see what was taking her so long.

  She moaned and her eyelids fluttered, but her eyes didn’t remain open. “Mandy, you’re going to be all right.” He had no idea if that was true or not, but he desperately needed to believe it.

  He shuddered in relief at the sound of a siren, indicating help was on its way. She moaned again and raised a hand to her throat.

  “Mandy, I’m right here and you’re going to be okay,” he said. If he got hold of the person responsible for this, he’d beat the hell out of him. A wild anger filled him. It was the kind of rage that always frightened him...a monster’s rage.

  He tamped it down by drawing in deep, even breaths. The man who’d done this wasn’t his concern right now. Mandy was. The siren halted and within minutes the little room was filled with EMTs and Dillon.

  “I’ve got men checking the streets,” Dillon said as they loaded Mandy onto a stretcher.

  “You won’t find him,” Brody said flatly. “He’s either long gone by now or he just removed his ski mask and went to the café for a cup of coffee,” he added with a touch of frustrated sarcasm.

  “I’ve also got men checking out the likely suspects,” Dillon replied. “Do you have a description to give me?”

  “Medium build, dark coat and a ski mask. If you have any more questions for me, talk to me at the hospital. I’ve got to go with Mandy.”

  The EMTs had wheeled Mandy out and all he could think about was her condition. As the ambulance drove off Brody followed right behind it, his heart beating more quickly than he could ever remember.

  Would she be okay? Had oxygen been squeezed off for seconds? Minutes? Was it possible she might never fully wake up? His world would definitely be worse without Mandy in it.

  Nausea rose up in the back of his throat. He was sick with guilt and fear. It was his own damned fault. He’d underestimated the danger.

  He’d believed she was perfectly safe in the kissing booth with him parked right in front of it. He hadn’t thought of the vulnerability of the booth’s back door.

  He arrived at the hospital and watched helplessly as she was whisked away into the emergency room. There was nothing he could do now but sit in the waiting room and agonize.

  He was the only person in the room, and he sat for just a moment before jumping to his feet and pacing the length of the area. Had she been hurt even more seriously than he knew?

  Had the man kicked her when she’d fallen unconscious? Had she been stabbed someplace where he hadn’t seen? Did she have internal injuries in addition to the bruises on her throat?

  His heart thundered as he waited for somebody to come out and give him an update on her condition. Minutes ticked by. He’d never been the type of man to make small talk with anyone, but how he wished Mandy was at his side right now, chatting about who she’d seen at the café that day.

  She challenged him to engage in conversations about everything and nothing. He hadn’t had any real laughter in his life before her and he damned straight wasn’t ready to tell her goodbye yet.

  He’d been in the waiting room alone for about forty-five minutes when Dillon walked in. “How is she?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m still waiting for somebody to tell me something. Let me guess—you didn’t find anyone,” Brody said.

  “You guessed right.” Dillon’s frustration deepened the lines across his forehead as he gestured Brody to a chair. Together they sat.

  “I was hoping you might have thought of some detail, anything that might help identify the perp,” Dillon said.

  Brody shook his head. “Nothing, and I’m assuming you have nothing concrete to tell me.”

  “I can tell you Jimbo, Sean Watters and Donny Pruitt were in the back room at the pawn shop when my men checked in with them. They all said they’d been there the entire evening.”

  “They would alibi each other and there are a million places to hide a ski mask in the pawn shop,” Brody said. “I know it wasn’t Jimbo because of his size, but either one of the other two could have attacked Mandy and still have time to get back to the pawn shop before you checked on them.”

  “I also checked in with Graham even though he’s really not a suspect anymore. He was in his motel room and I’m waiting to hear back reports on some of the others.”

  “Whoever it is, he’s like a damned ghost, striking out and then disappearing into the night. For the life of me I can’t figure out why somebody wants Mandy and Graham dead. If it was just George, then I could figure he was killed by somebody he’d ticked off with his mean, big mouth.”

  “I’ve twisted this every which way possible and can’t find a motive,” Dillon replied.

  “Have you checked out Butch Cooper?”

  Dillon looked at him in surprise. “No, why?”

  “He was at the booth minutes before Mandy was attacked.” Brody went on to tell him what he’d been thinking about the tall, cowboy as a vengeful ex-boyfriend.

  “I’ll check it out,” Dillon replied and then frowned. “Whoever attacked her tonight took a huge chance. It was one hell of a bold
move. It speaks of an urgency that’s definitely worrisome.”

  Worrisome? Hell, it was a lot more than that to Brody.

  “He’s attacked her twice unsuccessfully. He’s going to be angry and that will only make him more dangerous,” Dillon continued.

  Before Brody he could reply, both men stood as Dr. Johnson came into the room. “How is she?”

  “Her throat is bruised and it’s going to be sore for several days, but she’s conscious, alert and asking to get out of here.”

  Brody nearly sagged in relief. “Can I see her?”

  “Examining room four,” the doctor replied.

  Brody exploded through the doors that led to the emergency patient rooms. All he wanted to do was see her, assure himself that she was really going to be okay.

  He found her room and stood in the threshold. A small light shone over the bed, highlighting the shiny strands of her long, dark hair. She had her eyes closed and appeared to be resting peacefully.

  Still, every muscle in his body clenched painfully tight as he continued to gaze at her. Her beautiful, slender throat was nearly black with the bruising. God, he’d almost lost her. It had been such a close call.

  Her eyelids flickered open and she smiled. It was the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.

  “You didn’t. I wasn’t sleeping. I was just resting with my eyes closed.”

  Her voice was slightly raspy, and knowing what had caused that rasp only tightened his muscles more. He took several steps closer to her. “I’m sorry, Mandy. I’m so damned sorry I let you down.”

  “Stop it,” she replied. “No Brody-bashing allowed.”

  “I need to be bashed,” he replied. “I should have thought about the vulnerability of the booth’s back door.”

  “The booth is now history. All I want to do now is get out of here and go back home.” She raised a hand to her throat and winced.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to go home?” he asked worriedly.

  “My throat hurts, but other than that I’m fine. The doctor said I could be released and all I want to do is get into my own bed.”

  She gestured for him to come closer and then grabbed his hand. Hers was cold and quivered slightly. He squeezed her hand, hoping to reassure her.

  At that moment Dillon walked into the room. For the next few minutes he questioned Mandy. She wasn’t any help in identifying who had attacked her. But as Brody listened to her recount the attack, his rage grew. He flashed back to a vision of his father...face red and muscles bunched. The man slammed a television remote control against Brody’s head and then beat him with his fists when the batteries came loose in the remote.

  Brody had been about six and his father had beat him from the living room and into Brody’s bedroom. There had been no help from his mother, who was afraid her husband would turn his wrath on her.

  Max Booth had been a monster and his blood ran through Brody’s veins. Ellie hadn’t seen it and nobody else seemed to understand Brody’s fear that somehow that monster would be unleashed. It was what frightened him more than anything in his life other than the attacks on Mandy.

  * * *

  Dammit, he’d hoped she was dead when he ran from the booth, but now he wasn’t so sure. He’d seen the ambulance arrive from his hiding place in the shadows of the night.

  Now he sat in his car on a dark stretch of a country road, angry that he hadn’t had another minute or two to ensure that she was good and dead.

  Thank God her boyfriend had been more worried about her condition than chasing him down. The last thing he wanted was to end up behind bars. Been there...done that.

  He stared at the burner cell phone on the passenger seat. His boss would be waiting to hear from him and he hated like hell to tell him he’d failed once again.

  His boss was already ticked off that he hadn’t managed to stab her to death when he’d entered her father’s house and she’d been there all alone. Who would have thought she’d possess the strength to keep him out of the bedroom?

  He hated the taste of failure in his mouth. It had been easy to slit the old man’s throat. He’d been surprised and pleased that the front door hadn’t been locked. He’d been even more pleased to find George sleeping in his recliner. George hadn’t even opened his eyes as he’d drawn his knife across his throat.

  Mandy was another matter. One failed attempt to kill her was bad. Two was untenable. Oh yes, his boss was definitely going to be pissed.

  All he could do was call him and try to smooth things over. He had to let his boss know that one way or another Mandy would not live to see the New Year.

  Chapter 10

  It was a little after midnight when Brody and Mandy finally left the hospital. There was a full moon overhead and the sky was a blanket of shiny stars.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” she said once they were in the truck and headed home.

  “Thank God you’re here to enjoy it.” He shot her a quick glance. “You seem to be handling everything remarkably well for a woman who was nearly strangled to death.”

  “All’s well that ends well, right?” she replied lightly. “I’m just ready for bed now.”

  He had a feeling she was in some sort of shock and once that shock lifted, her real emotions would set in. When that happened it was possible she’d be angry with him for not protecting her. He’d accept her anger because he more than deserved it.

  What he wouldn’t do was allow her anger to chase him away. She was stuck with him until Dillon got the bad guy in jail. There was no way he intended to walk away from her now when she needed him more than ever. He didn’t give a damn how long it took. He intended to be by her side until all danger to her had passed.

  She was quiet for the rest of the ride home and he didn’t prompt her to speak. Her throat had to hurt. She had to be exhausted from the trauma and hopefully she’d feel better after a night’s sleep.

  Once they were inside her place, she grabbed her pajamas and headed into the bathroom. Brody sat on the sofa as she took a long shower.

  He couldn’t believe how lucky they had been. There was no doubt in his mind that if he’d waited a couple more minutes to see what was taking her so long, she’d be dead. He couldn’t even begin to process the loss of her.

  He jumped up when she emerged from the bathroom, smelling fresh with that hint of brown sugar and vanilla that he always found so appealing. Damn those pajamas that fit her just tight enough to encourage him to fantasize about her body beneath them. She appeared so soft...so touchable. His fingers itched with the need to reach for her. “Ready to sleep?” he asked instead.

  She nodded and climbed into her bed. He walked over to the side of her bed and picked up the candle lighter. With a flick of the trigger he lit the candles that she always slept with.

  “I’m going to take a shower. Will you be all right?” he asked.

  Once again she nodded, and then she closed her eyes. Brody went into the bathroom and took a shower. As he lingered beneath the hot spray, he tried not to think about the attack and how she must have felt.

  But it was difficult not to think about it. She had been terrorized. She’d believed she was going to die. He couldn’t imagine the level of fear she’d experienced when that man had been squeezing her throat and she couldn’t draw any air.

  Brody would have given anything to take that experience away from her. He never, ever wanted her to feel that kind of pain, that kind of terror again.

  He got out of the shower, redressed in a clean pair of jeans and a pullover shirt and then left the bathroom.

  He assumed she was asleep as he eased down on the sofa and closed his eyes. He was almost asleep when she called out his name. Instantly he was awake.

  “Can I get you something?” he asked.

&
nbsp; “Could you just come over here and hold me for a few minutes?”

  Her husky voice trembled and held a wealth of need. He found it impossible to deny her comfort after what she’d been through. She’d been so strong up until now, and it appeared she was finally feeling the aftermath of her near-death experience.

  He got off the sofa and walked to her bedside. Even though he knew it would be tough for him to hold her body against his own and not want her, he told himself he could be strong for the both of them.

  She raised the sheet to allow him to slide in next to her, and he noticed that tears glistened on her cheeks. Compassion swept through him and he gathered her into his arms.

  Her pajamas were snuggly soft, her body warm as it curled against his. She hid her head in the side of his neck and clung to him.

  A swift surge of desire exploded through his veins. He desperately tried to tamp it down as he stroked her hair and attempted to comfort her.

  “Don’t cry, Mandy. It’s over now and you’re safe.” Her hair was silky soft and he continued to touch the long strands.

  “I was so scared,” she said, her breath a warm caress against the underside of his jaw. “I couldn’t breathe and I thought he was going to kill me.”

  “Thank God he didn’t.” He stroked a finger down her cheek, the softness of her skin once again stoking a brighter-burning fire inside him.

  “I tried to fight him off, but he was so strong and his hands around my neck were so tight. I tried poking him in the eyes, but nothing I did stopped him from strangling me. I was so afraid I was going to die in that kissing booth. I was terrified that I was going to die before you and I got a chance to make love.”

  He froze, certain that he must have misunderstood her. She raised her head and looked at him, her beautiful brown eyes filled with a longing that half-stole his breath away. “Please, Brody, make love to me tonight.”

  He knew he needed to get up. He needed to get out of the bed and away from her immediately. This would be wrong on so many levels. But instead he found his lips on hers, and someplace in the back of his mind, he knew he was lost.

 

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