Occasionally, his harsh breathing and choked words penetrated the haze in her head. “I smell my scent on you.” He lifted his head, curled his fingers around one of her breasts and squeezed it. “Mmm. Not much fight left in you, woman. Once I do a little whittlin’, it always takes the fight out of the bitch. It won’t take me long to get bored with you, Lacey, darling, and then I’ll kill you.”
Lacey closed her eyes. Shut out his voice. She focused her attention on the sounds around her. Was that Joseph crying? Screaming?
Please, God. Don’t let him hurt my son. Please. Please. He’s all I have left. Don’t let him hurt my baby.
“Lacey? Why is Joseph screaming? Where are you?”
Lacey swallowed back the utter dryness that coated her throat, the pain, the fear. She didn’t have enough spit to dampen her tongue. Her mouth worked, but she couldn’t form the words to scream, to tell Anna Leigh to run.
The monster tormenting her pressed his palm over her mouth. “Ssh. Make a sound, I’ll slit your throat.” He punished her left breast in warning.
Smitt rose to his feet, grabbed the gun off the table and waited for Danger’s sister to make her appearance. “Aw, this just isn’t the sheriff’s lucky day,” he whispered.
“Lacey? Are you here?”
“Run, Anna,” Lacey screamed, but it was already too late. Anna Leigh stepped into the kitchen. Smitt’s mouth split into a wide grin, macabre and evil, and he squeezed the trigger.
The startled look on Anna’s face froze in place. She gasped, staggered back, crashed into the wall and slid to the floor. Smitt stood over her, ready to pull the trigger again, but she didn’t move.
He stared at the crimson stain blooming across her midriff and lifted a brow. “Gut shot. Perfect. The bitch will lie there for hours before she dies.”
He walked to Lacey and picked up the knife. “You’re gonna pay for screaming a warning to her, bitch! I told you plain, no screaming. I know how to make you bleed and bleed and take forever to die, Lacey, darling.” He grinned. “Fun time. Fun time. Yeah, me and my buddy, we’re gonna have lots of fun.”
Chapter Fifteen
No cord or cable can draw so forcibly, or bind so fast, as love can do with a single thread.
~Robert Burton
Davis Property
February 7, Saturday
8:00 a.m.
Duel barely landed the helicopter before Rafe unbuckled his safety belt and bailed out. He took off, his long legs eating up the snow-covered ground.
Killing the engine, Duel grabbed the coil of rope off the backseat. “Be careful, Rafe,” he said, joining him at the well site. “Don’t step on the boards. They’re rotted.”
Rafe squatted down and started yanking the boards off the top of the old well. “Lacey! Sweetheart! Are you down there? Jesus, I can’t fucking see down there.”
No reply.
“God damn it!” Rafe flung another board out of the way. “She has to be here. Please, God. Let her be here. Let her be alive. Lacey! Sweetheart. Answer me.”
Duel hunkered down beside him. “Rafe. Slow down.”
“I don’t have time to slow down. If she’s down there and—”
“I know. Don’t you think I know? If she’s…dead, we need to preserve the scene. If she’s alive, we don’t need you falling apart, falling in, or getting hurt. So, slow down. If she’s down there, man, she needs you, and she needs you calm.”
Rafe nodded and peeled board by board off until he tossed the last one out of the way. “The fucker nailed the lid shut on her. If she’d been able to climb up to the top, she still wouldn’t have been able to get out,” he said, his voice shaking. “He’s a monster, a cold blooded monster.”
They peered over the edge.
“Oh, Jesus,” Rafe whispered. “She’s here! Thank God. Thank God. Lacey!”
“She isn’t moving.”
“Give me the rope, Duel.”
Duel helped knot the rope around Rafe’s waist. “Take it slow and easy. I don’t want to have to rescue you because of a cave-in.”
Rafe nodded and started scaling down the side of the steep wall. “It’s slick. The walls have thawed just enough to be muddy.” He glanced down to judge the distance. “Lacey! Honey, answer me!” His heart grabbed. He couldn’t see her now, not at the angle he was forced to descend. Her silence scared him to death. “Please,” he whispered. “Please. Please, be alive.”
Rafe swore it took forever to reach the bottom, and when his boots touched ground, he fell to his knees beside Lacey’s curled body. His gloved hands shook as he reached for her. God. She was so still.
He couldn’t hear her breathing.
He didn’t think she was breathing.
Tearing off his leather gloves, he touched her bare shoulder. Her skin looked pale and icy. “Lacey?” he whispered her name. “I’m here, baby.”
He gently turned her in his arms. Her head lolled to one side against his chest. Her left palm splayed opened, and he saw the heart and chain, the necklace he’d given her for Christmas. He swallowed hard. Her lifeline. Thank God he’d given her something to hold on to. “Aw, sweetheart.” He eased it from her hand and slipped it inside his shirt pocket. His heart squeezed—a solid pain in his chest. “Baby, please. I don’t think I told you…I don’t remember…” He ignored the tears blinding his vision. “I love you, Lace. I want you to know that. I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please, sweetheart, open your eyes.”
Dried blood covered her from her head to her bare toes. Quickly he jerked off his denim jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Lacey? Sweetheart. Open your eyes, baby. Damn it, you can’t die. I’m not finished with you yet.” He heard her feeble sigh, felt her delicate shudder. A frail gasp. “Oh, God, baby. Can you talk to me?”
Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. Tears rolled down her cheeks mixing with the mud and the blood. She reached for him, slid an icy hand along his cheek. “What…took…you…so…long?” Her hand dropped to her side. “So…cold.”
“Duel,” Rafe yelled. “Drop me a blanket. Hurry.”
Lacey shuddered. “Lost…our…baby.”
Rafe ignored the tears sliding down his face. He cleared his throat, but it still felt rough and raw. “I know, sweetheart.” He busied himself wrapping the blanket around her. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
“Didn’t…think…you wanted…our baby.”
Rafe froze. “Oh, God, Lace, as hard as I worked to make sure you got pregnant, how could you think I didn’t want our baby? I could have protected you. I bought the fucking box of rubbers, but I…hell, I couldn’t think about anything other than putting my baby in you. I wanted to bind you to me forever. I still do.” He tucked the blanket around her shoulders and under her chin. “It wasn’t until you refused to go to Texas with me I realized you weren’t ready for a baby with me. I decided you needed time, but don’t for a minute think I didn’t want our child or you. I want you in my life, and any babies we might make in the future.”
“I’m…sorry.”
Rafe stilled. “For what, honey?”
“Losing…baby. Tried…fight him. Too…strong. Wanted…baby.”
He held her close in his arms and brushed her damp, tangled hair from her face. “Me, too, Lace. I’m going to get you outta here, sweetheart. Get help. Hold on. Don’t give up. I want to make lots of babies with you. Will you marry me? I love you, Lace. Say you’ll marry me.”
“Yes…marry…you.” Her breath escaped in a soft sigh. Her head lolled lifelessly against his chest and her eyelids fluttered closed.
“I’m holding you to that, Lace,” he whispered. “Just as soon as I can arrange it, I’m holding you to your word. You’re going to be my wife.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sex is one of my downfalls. I get sex any way I can get it. If I have to force somebody to do it, I do...I rape them; I’ve done that. I’ve killed animals to have sex with them, and I’ve had sex while they’re alive.
Henry Lee Lucas
(Serial Killer)
Davis Property
February 7, Saturday
8:20 a.m.
From his hiding place, Smitt Davis watched the chopper lift into the air and cussed beneath his breath. “Fucking, nosy, interfering bastards! They’ll be sorry they took her. She’s mine!”
He coughed. The gunshot wound to his chest hurt like hell. The bullet was still lodged inside him, but the bleeding had finally slugged to a stop and the site had scabbed. Kaycee Remington had got him good, but by God, he wasn’t dead. He was bruised and battered from going over that damn cliff, and he’d broken his left wrist and three of his fingers.
Everyone probably thought he was dead, believed the animals would take care of his carcass, but he’d show them. He’d rise from the dead like a fucking spook. He’d be back. His job wasn’t finished yet, but who the fuck was this new man in Lacey darling’s life?
He didn’t like him. A lawman. Yeah, he carried himself like a lawman, a tough one.
God knew Smitt had little use for the law. He grinned. “No use for the law, none at all.”
He needed time to heal. Time to make new plans. Time to regain his strength. He wanted his property back. He wanted Lacey darling back. She belonged to him now. No one took what he’d claimed.
Smitt crawled out of the brush pile he’d burrowed in, stumbled over to the well and stared into the empty black hole. “Fucking cunt,” he shouted. “Why couldn’t you just die? I should have fucked you! I should have fucked you and then cut out your heart!”
He could have done it down there in the well. Yeah. He could have done her good. He’d planned to. He was on his way to finish her off when he heard the chopper.
“Damn, fucking, interfering Remingtons. Just wait. I’m coming for you. All of you.”
Where was Sheriff Blackstone? He rubbed his aching head. Ah, yes, Danger Blackstone didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t the man in Lacey darling’s life. So who the hell was the big man who’d carried Lacey up from her grave? He didn’t know, but he’d make a point of finding out, then he’d kill the fucker.
Smitt limped away and headed toward the woods. For now, he had to hide. Heal. Sharpen his knives. He wasn’t finished with Kaycee Remington, either. She had his babies in her belly, and he damn well wanted them. He wanted her. And Lacey—oh, Lacey, darling, well, she had more fight in her than he’d given her credit for.
He rubbed his hard cock and grinned. A worthy opponent was Lacey darling. Yeah, tough gal, a strong will to live, worthy of his seed. Their kid would be fearless, a survivor. “I’m coming for you, Lacey darling, and next time, you get the honor of my seed. I’ll put my baby in your belly. You only think you’ve escaped me.”
When he finished with her, she’d wish she’d died the first time round. He was going to carve her up good. Real good. “Carve you good, Lacey darling, and you’ll be number one at my new table. Number one. You can run. Run, Lacey darling. I’ll find you. I’ll always find you.”
Chapter Seventeen
The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.
~ G. K. Chesterton
Havre, Montana
Regional Health Care Center
ICU Waiting Room
February 8, Sunday
5 p.m.
Rafe stood, stretched, drained the Styrofoam cup of the last dregs of coffee and tossed it in the trash receptacle by the table. The way his stomach burned and his nerves jittered he knew he’d had way too much caffeine and not enough carbs, but he needed to keep his hands busy, as well as his mind.
The steady drone of voices in the waiting room got under his skin. Some people silently prayed. A few hours earlier, he’d been among the crowd who quietly sought God’s mercy. Every hour Lacey had spent in surgery, he’d prayed. And by His mercy, she’d lived. By no means was she out of danger yet, but the odds had risen in her favor.
Now, he wanted to see his lady, be with her, hold her in his arms, and damn it, none of it would happen for a very long time, at least the holding her in his arms part.
Mere hours ago, Lacey clung to life by a thread. Things could still go critical, but she was strong and brave. He told her so every time he saw her. She had to fight to live.
Rafe glanced at his Rolex. Three more minutes, and he could see her again. Smitt Davis hadn’t merely destroyed their baby. He’d done other, terrible things to Lacey. Rafe regretted everything the monster had put her through, and he grieved deeply for the loss of his and Lacey’s baby. Sonofabitch Smitt Davis had a lot to answer for—one day.
He looked up at the sound of the scuffed drag of Duel’s boots. Duel had to be as exhausted as he was, but neither of them wanted to leave the hospital. “How’s Jace?”
Duel shook his head. “He’s sleeping. Kaycee’s taking a nap. The doctor said Jace can be moved from ICU tomorrow.”
“Have you talked to your cousin, Raider? Have they heard anything about Dianna and Taylor?”
“No.” Duel poured a cup of coffee and eased into a recliner. “He said a great part of the desert region has been searched, but it’s so vast. Silver is flying north tomorrow. She has a hunch.”
“A hunch? What’s to the north?”
“A rainforest.”
“But Dianna was flying west. Right?”
“Supposed to have been. Silver’s hunches, well…sometimes they’re dead on. She has the power…you know?”
“The power?”
Duel ginned. “Old family legend, something about the Remingtons descending from an ancient line of witches who could foresee the future.”
“You believe that?”
Duel shrugged. “I never took the time to research our family tree, but Silver has. She swears she traced the family bloodline all the way back to Salem Village and that we’re descended from a Winslow family line.”
“Wow.” Rafe knew he sounded incredulous. Why wouldn’t he? He had the feeling Duel had just spoon-fed him a tale to take his mind off everything. “You believe in witches?”
“I swear I’m telling the truth.” Duel laughed. “I don’t know if I believe in witches or not. Don’t you believe the Remingtons are descended from a magical breed?”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“No, but I share psychic abilities with Silver. I read your expression.”
“Bullshit. What was the name of the witch in Salem?”
“Don’t know.” Duel laughed. “I sort of tune Silver out when she starts saying we’re descended from demons and witches. Have you heard anything more about Lacey?”
“I’m going to see her right now. Maybe she’s awake.”
Duel nodded. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Rafe made his way to the Surgery/ICU and buzzed to be allowed through the double doors of the unit. He stopped by the nurse’s station to let Lacey’s nurse know he was visiting, and to check on her progress. Then he approached the tiny room. He paused in the doorway, his heart thumping as fast as a hummingbird’s. God, she looked so small and lifeless lying there with the sheet folded back so neatly and a dozen different tubes keeping her alive.
He settled in a chair by the bed and lifted her icy hand. “Lacey?” he whispered her name. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’ve been right here. I won’t leave you alone unless they run me out again. I spent last night right here with you. If you can hear me, squeeze my hand, baby.”
Nothing. God, she looked frighteningly pale. She’d lost a lot of blood. If it hadn’t been for the icy cold slowing everything down inside her, she would have bled to death. He didn’t know how many units of blood they’d given her in surgery, but he knew it had been several. “Lacey, squeeze my hand, baby. Please, squeeze my hand.”
A faint touch. Her fingers curled around his, feeble, but still a light squeeze. “Rafe,” she said in a scratchy voice and opened her eyes.
“Yes! Oh, God, Lace. You’re awake. I’ve been terrified.”
“Me…too…”
�
��How do you feel? Don’t answer that. I know you feel like hell. Are you in pain? Do you need something?”
“I…want…to—” She broke off, moaning as a coughing spasm hit her.
Lacey splayed her hands on top of the thin sheet, across her flat stomach. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her face. Rafe followed the path of her hand as she patted the top of the sheet. He tried to distract her. “Don’t try to talk, sweetheart.”
“Baby?”
Shit. She wasn’t going to let him avoid the subject. “Our baby?”
Lacey squeezed his fingers. “Our baby…yes.”
“We lost it, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
She brushed at her tears with a trembling hand. “Wanted…your…baby.”
Rafe swallowed hard. “Me, too.”
“Joseph? Anna Leigh?”
He swallowed hard and felt his gut knot. Damn. He was not going to be the one to tell her about her son and sister-in-law. “Do you remember me asking you to marry me, Lace?”
Her eyes swept over his face, large and tragic and filled with grief. He saw the pain-filled shadows and realized she understood what he’d tried to do. She let him get by with changing the subject, but he saw the anguish on her face, the quiver of her lower lip. She knew. In her heart, she knew her son was gone, that Anna Leigh was gone.
A solitary tear spilled over and slid silently down her bruised cheek. “Never…forget.”
“Did you mean it when you said you would?” He lifted her hand, pressed a kiss to the top of it. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It kills me to see you hurting like this.”
“Yes.”
His heart bounded. “Yes? You’ll marry me?”
She gave a faint nod.
“Thank God. I was afraid—”
“Where is she? I wanna see her!”
Rafe looked up, startled at the sound of shouting near the nurse’s station.
Too Close To The Fire/Too Hot To Handle (Montana Men 3) Page 27