by Paige Warren
She walked down the steps on shaky legs and approached him, trying to give Isaac a reassuring look. She wanted to comfort him and tell him everything would be okay, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie to the little boy. If only Ryan hadn’t left! At least Isaac would be safe then. Gemma had no doubt that Trevor would have lain in wait and grabbed her on her way to her truck.
As she drew nearer to Trevor, he shoved the boy away, knocking Isaac to the ground. The little boy cried and ran to Gemma, wrapping his arms around her legs. She ran her fingers through his hair, hoping to soothe him. What she had to do next would be the hardest thing ever. She could pick him up and run for the house, locking Trevor outside, but he’d just find her another time. If she didn’t face him now, he’d never go away.
“I need you to be brave for me, Isaac. Can you do that?”
He raised his tearstained face and nodded.
“Go inside and wait on your daddy. He’ll be home soon. Be sure to lock the door.”
“But what about you?”
She forced a smile. “I’ll be all right. Now, go be a big boy for me and wait inside.”
He ran for the house, and a moment later the front door slammed shut. She heard the lock click into place and turned to face Trevor. There was so much evil in his eyes. She’d swear she could see the fires of hell burning in their depths. She approached him, not surprised when he reached out and grabbed her wrist in an iron grip, nearly jerking her off her feet. Her body slammed into his and his lips twisted into a cold smile.
“You and I are going to go for a little ride.” He began tugging her toward a car at the curb. A car she hadn’t paid attention to until just then. If she got in that vehicle, there was no telling where he would take her. Her heart raced, but she couldn’t think of a way to stall him. Then again, she wasn’t sure she wanted Ryan going up against him. She didn’t want her cowboy getting hurt. He might be tough enough to ride bulls, but Trevor didn’t play fair.
He shoved her into the passenger seat and slammed the door. She could bolt, but something told her she wouldn’t make it far. Calling the cops wouldn’t do any good. Trevor would just disappear before they could arrive and wait until she was vulnerable to attack again. He was a coward who beat on those weaker than himself. He’d never come for her when Ryan or Synclair were around. He’d been too worried that someone would beat his ass. Trevor never started a fight he couldn’t finish.
He got in the car and patted her leg. “Good girl. I was worried you’d run.”
She looked at him. “Where would I go? You’d just find me again.”
“Yes, I would.” He smiled. “You and I are about to have a lot of fun.”
A shiver went down her spine. She’d lived through his version of fun before, and she wasn’t sure she’d make it this time. It depended on what he had in mind. If he’d brought his friends, she’d sooner slit her wrists than live through it again. She still hadn’t told anyone what had happened then and she wasn’t sure she ever would.
They stopped at the edge of town and Trevor hauled her out of the car and up a broken walkway to a dilapidated house. The porch was sagging, the paint peeling, and more than one window was broken. Gemma knew they had entered the bad part of town about five minutes ago, the side where people minded their own business and wouldn’t be the least bit disturbed if she were to scream her head off.
He forced her into the house, the smell of mildew hanging heavy in the air. The carpet looked like it had last been replaced in the 1970s, the paneling on the walls not in much better condition. Paint peeled on the ceilings, which were cracked in areas. The light fixtures were just bare bulbs and she wondered if there was even power. There would be plenty of daylight for several more hours, but she really didn’t want to be in this house in the pitch black.
All of the rooms were bare, except for a bedroom at the back of the home. There was a dingy mattress on the floor and he shoved her down onto it. She hoped he didn’t plan to use it for more than a place for her to sit. If he thought she would willingly take her clothes off for him, he’d better think again. She’d rather die than feel his hands on her skin.
He walked over to a sack in the corner, something she’d missed when first entering the room. He pulled out a length of rope and bound her hands behind her back. Her shoulders pulled and the rope was so tight the circulation was cut off in her hands. Already they were tingling and going numb. Next, he removed a roll of duct tape. She had little doubt as to what it was for and wasn’t the least bit surprised when he tore off a strip and slapped it over her mouth.
“Just in case you decide to do something stupid, like scream,” he said.
She glared at him, hoping he could see just how much she loathed him. She refused to cry, no matter how much she’d love to right then. Gemma had only felt this helpless once before, and she didn’t dare think of that night. She had no idea what he had in store for her, but she had two choices. She could give up, or she could live through it. After everything he’d put her through before, she knew she was strong enough to carry on. But if someone didn’t find her soon, if Trevor decided to get rid of her permanently before the cops could be called or before her men came for her, then all the fighting in the world wouldn’t make a bit of difference. She’d conserve as much of her energy as possible, in case an opportunity presented itself for her to escape. But before she did, she’d do her damnedest to plunge a knife through his black heart.
As if he’d read her thoughts, he pulled a butcher knife from the sack. “I bought this just for you, my sweet. I thought we could play a little.”
Play? With that? What the hell did he plan to do to her? She watched him with trepidation, fighting the urge to flee. She knew if she ran, she would never make it out of the house, not with her hands tied. Her best bet was to ride through the pain of whatever he did to her and pray for a moment of weakness.
Trevor moved closer to her, the knife gleaming in the sunlight that streamed through the broken blinds. Was it too much to hope that someone would peek inside, see her, and call for help? Probably.
He spread her legs and stood between them, standing over her, the knife gripped in his hand. Trevor rubbed the side of the blade against her face, the metal cool against her skin. She shuddered, hoping she wouldn’t scream when it cut into her. He turned the knife so that the sharp side of the blade rested against her cheek.
“Maybe if I make you a little less pretty, those men of yours will decide they don’t want you after all. Think they’re only with you because of how you look? You aren’t woman enough to hold them without your pretty face.” He smiled as he sliced across her cheek.
Despite her best intentions, she screamed behind the tape, her eyes squeezed shut. Her cheek felt like it was on fire, and she could feel the blood trickling down her face. She thought maybe he was done for the moment that he would be satisfied with that flash of pain, but he came at her again. This time he sliced her shirt down the front, spreading the material wide.
“You always did have beautiful breasts,” he said, the knife running along the edge of her bra. “Have they touched these luscious mounds? I bet they have. I bet you spread your legs for them the same day you met them. You’re nothing but a slut. That’s okay though. I’m going to make sure no man looks at you ever again, not without crossing the street to get away from the thing you’ve become.”
She whimpered before she could hold it back. His words told her that her nightmare had just begun. On the one hand, it sounded like he was going to let her live. But if that was true, how did he plan to get away? She could go to the cops and tell them what happened. Then he’d go to jail. Surely he wouldn’t let her go free and risk it. Unless he thought he could intimidate her into silence.
The knife bit into her bra, slicing the garment down the front. He parted the material, freeing her breasts. The blood in her veins froze as the possibilities ran through her mind of what he might do next. He had clearly come unhinged.
She screamed out behind the gag as he ma
de an X over the top of her left breast, then he turned his attention to the right side, doing the same. He gripped her chin and turned her face one way then the other.
“Still too pretty,” he said. “I wonder if maybe I removed one of your eyes…”
She screamed and tried to skitter away from him, but she couldn’t go far. He grabbed a handful of her hair and hauled her back across the mattress. Letting her go, he backhanded her across the face, splitting open her wound even further. He sliced her cheek again, just below the other slash, this one even deeper.
Gemma began to fear for her sanity, and possibly her life. Her heart was thundering in her ears, and perhaps it was just the hope of being discovered, but she would have sworn she heard the front door open. Trevor didn’t seem to notice, so maybe she was just hearing things.
Trevor sighed. “This isn’t as much fun as I’d thought it would be. As much as I’d love for you to live the rest of your life scarred and hated, maybe disposing of you would be better. I’ve never killed anyone before but I’ve heard it’s quite a rush. Shall we find out?”
Before she could prepare herself, he plunged the knife into her side, twisted it, and jerked it upwards. Tears poured down her face. Her vision faded to black, but she would have sworn she heard Synclair a moment before she passed out.
Chapter Fourteen
Gemma awoke two days later in the hospital. Her face throbbed and as she moved her mouth, she felt a pull in her cheek. Lifting her fingers to her face, she felt stitches along both wounds. A glance down showed both breasts were stitched as well. Gemma pulled up her hospital gown and inspected her side, where Trevor had stabbed her. More stitches.
She heard the clomp of boots in the hall and looked up just in time to see Ryan striding through the door. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and a plastic-wrapped pastry in the other. When he saw she was awake, both items fell to the floor, the coffee splattering everywhere. He rushed to her side and knelt beside the bed, taking her hand in his.
“I was worried you wouldn’t wake up,” he said.
“How long was I out?”
“Two days. They had to do surgery on your side, where he stabbed you. Then they stitched up your other wounds. It scared the hell out of me when I got home and Isaac was all alone. He told me a bad man had taken you away.”
“How did you find me?”
“Isaac told me the color of the car and said it had four doors. I took a chance on the car belonging to your ex and remembered his name was Trevor. Sheriff Crawford pulled the report from the DMV and got the make and model of the car. Then it was just a matter of getting the word out around town until someone mentioned seeing it.”
“All that?”
“I was wishing like hell you’d had your cell phone on you so we could have tracked you that way.”
“Wouldn’t have worked, remember? I don’t have a regular cell phone provider but one of those cheap throwaway phones.”
He kissed her hand. “Promise me you’ll never get into a car with a lunatic ever again. You should have run into the house with Isaac and locked the doors.”
Gemma squeezed his hand. “He just would have found me later. I knew if I went with him right then, at least Isaac would be safe. All I could think about was getting Trevor as far away from your son as possible. I wouldn’t have put it past Trevor to kill Isaac, just to get to me. As it was, Trevor threw him on the ground. Was he okay?”
“Scraped knee. Otherwise, he was just worried about you. I found him crying by the front window when I got home.”
Gemma hated that he had been so scared, but at least he was safe. That was the important thing. A scraped knee would heal in no time. She just hoped the memories of what happened didn’t haunt him and give him nightmares.
“He was here that first night,” Ryan said. “He wanted to see you for himself, make sure you were okay.”
“Where’s Synclair?”
“I sent him home to get some sleep. He’s been by your bedside since we found you. The moment he saw Trevor stab you, he completely lost it. I wasn’t sure Trevor would be going to jail. I thought he’d be leaving that house in a body bag. Synclair beat the hell out of him. Broke Trevor’s nose, busted his lip, blackened both eyes, and then twisted his arm behind his back so hard he dislocated his shoulder.”
“He’s not in trouble, is he?”
“The sheriff took one look at you, slapped cuffs on Trevor, and started reading him his rights. Synclair climbed into the ambulance with you and told me to meet him at the hospital.”
She frowned. “Where was Isaac during all of this?”
“Elodie took him. That’s where he is right now. She said she’d put him in your room until you were ready to go home.”
Gemma’s body felt like it weighed a ton and she fought to keep her eyes open. Ryan rose to his feet and swept her hair back from her face before leaning down and kissing her forehead. That wasn’t where she wanted him to kiss her, but she supposed it would do for now. It was better than no kiss at all.
“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll call Synclair and we’ll both be here when you wake up again.”
She nodded drowsily and then sank into oblivion.
When she woke next, Synclair was kicked back in a recliner beside the bed. A quick glance showed Ryan passed out on the small sofa across the room. Her mouth was so dry she wasn’t sure she could speak, but she wanted Synclair’s attention. There was a cup on the tray that she assumed was filled with water, and she desperately wanted a sip, but the tray was too far away for her to reach.
She must have made some noise, moving around in the bed, because Synclair’s eyes opened and he smiled at her.
“How are you feeling, baby?”
“Thirsty,” she croaked.
He picked up the cup and held the straw for her to take a few swallows. Then he took it away and placed it back on the tray. His gaze caressed her face and she wished he’d touch her in some small way. Her hand, her hair. Something. Anything.
“You saved me,” she said. “I was about to give up and then I heard you. I thought was dreaming but, before I could look for you, I guess I passed out.”
“It’s a blessing you did. That knife made a mess of your insides. Took the doctors a while to patch you up. You’re supposed to be on bed rest for the next month. The stitches in your face and on your breasts can come out in seven to ten days, according to the nurse that was in here last night.”
“They just handed out information to you about my recovery and diagnosis?” Gemma asked.
“There isn’t anyone in this town that doesn’t know the three of us are together.”
“I’m sure they’re thrilled with yet another ménage relationship in town. Grizzly Pines may be big compared to some towns, but it’s still pretty damn small. And you know what they say about small towns. They breed small-minded people. Just look at what Elodie went through growing up in this town!”
“There’s something you don’t know about Grizzly Pines.”
“What’s that?”
Synclair smiled. “In my grandfather’s generation, there were quite a few families of multiples.”
“Multiples?”
“Ménage relationships. My grandfather wasn’t in one, but his brother was. Old Mrs. Wilbanks at the library? She’s a widow, times two. She didn’t have one husband to take care of, but two. Mr. Henry at the post office? He and his brother were with the same woman. I’m not even sure which one she officially married. So you see, Grizzly Pines will be more accepting of a ménage relationship than you think. It’s probably why things have turned around for Elodie, for the most part. I know she still has a little trouble from some of the townspeople, but I would imagine they will eventually come around.”
Gemma was stunned. A town with a history of ménage relationships? She’d never heard of such a thing before. And here she’d thought they would look down on her, think less of her for taking two men to her bed instead of choosing one of them. She’d hoped she co
uld be happy in Grizzly Pines and it was looking more and more likely that it could happen.
A throat cleared and she looked toward the door. She smiled, and then winced when it made her face hurt.
“When did you get here?” she asked.
Her brother Asher smiled. “In time to meet your boyfriends and help them kick a little ass. Nick had a talk with the sheriff about what happened in Dallas. Trevor isn’t getting out of jail anytime soon. He’s not only being charged with assault and kidnapping, but attempted murder.”
“So it’s really over?” she asked, as her brother came to stand beside Synclair.
“It’s really over. Why the hell didn’t you tell us, Gem? Your boyfriends said the asshole was still calling you after you moved here. You should have told the cousins, at the very least. It was a dangerous thing you did, and if we’d arrived a moment later, we wouldn’t have been able to save you.” She saw tears shimmering in his eyes. “We almost lost you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Asher.”
“Colt is gathering your things. You’ll move in with us when you’re released from the hospital.”
“With you? I don’t understand. I’m not going back to Dallas.”
Asher smiled. “Baby girl, we’ve moved here. The three of us went in on a small farm just up the road from Cody, Beau, and Beck’s place. We signed the papers yesterday and Nick and Colt have spent the morning buying furniture for the place. Most of it is secondhand, but it’s in good condition.”
“You really moved here?” she asked.
“Yeah, we really moved here.”
Ryan began to stir and slowly stretched before climbing to his feet. “Hey, Asher.”
“Ryan.” Her brother smiled. “I was just telling our girl here that she has a place at our new home when she’s ready to get out of the hospital. If I know Gemma, she isn’t going to be very pleasant after a few days of bed rest, much less a month of it. I figured I’d give our cousins and Elodie a break. They’ve taken care of her for long enough.”