“High?” she echoed.
He shook his head. “Do I need to spell it out for you, my love? The black market. Opioids. That’s where the real money is. One kilogram of fentanyl from our Chinese supplier costs a few thousand dollars and can produce hundreds of thousands of pills each selling for twenty dollars apiece, and I don’t lift a finger.”
“Drugs? You’re selling drugs?”
Brett frowned. “I’m taking advantage of an opportunity.”
“Where’s Mason? Is he okay with this?”
“My brother had no vision. He was weak, and he was threatening to ruin everything. He got sloppy. Started using. He wanted to stay in Houston and keep writing prescriptions and selling off the pills. Small time. Some money, but nothing like what I’m a part of, what I’m building.” Brett’s gaze narrowed. “Nobody, not even my brother, gets in the way of what I want. You should know that by now, my love.”
His eyes had been one of the first things she had noticed about him. The photographer in her had observed the way they changed with the light. The night they’d met at the fundraiser, those golden flecks around his pupils had danced under the ballroom’s chandelier, attentive and warm. She had been a fool to fall for him. He’d never loved her. He’d never loved anything. The warmth in his eyes reflected only an affinity for the win, an addiction to the chase. His eyes registered pleasure only in the sense that he was getting what he wanted, no matter the cost.
“Why me, Brett? You could have anyone.”
He chuckled. “That’s a good story. Mason spotted you at the fundraiser. Every man was watching you that night. He bet me a hundred bucks I couldn’t pick you up. He lost. I won. I always win.”
A bet! One lousy hundred-dollar bet had turned her life upside-down. A pained expression crossed her face.
“Why that face? You turned out to be worth it. I won one of the most sought-after photographers on the planet. You could have gone anywhere, done anything. But I won you, and I intend to keep you.”
“The police will track you down,” Lindsey said, but even she could hear the uncertainty in her voice.
“I made sure the trail ended with Mason and Claire. The shell company that owns the camp leads to them. All we need to do is get the product I have hidden here and deliver it to my associates in Chicago. Then we leave the country, and we’ll be untraceable.”
“Over my dead body,” came a voice from behind the boathouse tarp.
25
Nick swung back the tarp and charged inside. His interruption stunned Brett, and Lindsey broke free and pressed her back against the wall, giving Nick room to tackle the bastard. They hit the wooden planks with a hard thud, and something heavy skidded across the floor.
Brett’s gun.
He went for it, but before he could reach it, it slid over the edge and into the lake. Panic lined the man’s face.
“You’re not so fucking tough without your gun, are you?” Nick said, landing a jab to the man’s rib cage. “Now you get to see what it’s like to fight someone your own size.”
Brett wasn’t as big as he was, but the man was no lightweight either. Their bodies tumbled across the floor and banged against a post. Nick threw a punch and landed it square on Brett’s cheek. But Brett was quick to connect a jab to his abdomen.
Nick sucked in a tight breath.
If this sick fuck wanted to fight, he was ready. He flipped Brett over and pressed his shoulder into the man’s chest and searched the boathouse for Lindsey. She stood frozen, still pressed against the wall.
“Run, Linds! Run!” Nick called out.
Brett slipped out of the hold, but Nick pulled him back.
“Linds, go to Rachel and Rory’s rock. Go now!”
“I don’t want to leave you,” she cried out.
“I’ll find you, Linds. Run!”
Her footsteps echoed through the air, and the swish of tarp signaled she had gotten out.
Brett struggled, throwing elbows and ramming his shoulder into Nick’s chest. He pulled an arm free from Nick’s grasp, flipped around, and threw a hard punch, fist cracking against Nick’s jaw.
“How do you like that, flyboy?” Brett spit out, scrambling to put space between them.
Nick sprang to his feet, but before he could rush Brett again, the man eyed a broken oar and grabbed it. He swung the jagged, weathered blade in sharp slices, barely missing Nick’s face. But the man miscalculated and threw a sweeping blow, giving Nick the opportunity to grab the oar’s shaft.
Eye to eye, each man held onto the oar, struggling for control. Brett’s lips quirked into a sardonic grin. Nick knew that look. He had watched that same expression beat his mother black and blue. Nick’s father and Brett shared no physical qualities, but they were identical in the ways that cut to the core. Neither had the capacity for compassion, and cruelty was their sport of choice.
Nick gritted his teeth and threw his body weight onto the man. Brett crashed against the boathouse wall, and Nick forced the oar shaft under the man’s chin, restricting his breathing. Brett struggled and changed his grip. But Nick had all the leverage now.
“You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to her,” Nick said, increasing the pressure. He blinked. Two men flashed before his eyes. One real, flesh and blood. The other, long gone, but always scratching beneath the surface of his thoughts.
“Lindsey is mine,” Brett let out in a hoarse whisper. “I’ll never let her go.”
Every protective instinct Nick had ever known coursed through his body. “You’ll never get the chance. You’ll be spending the rest of your pathetic life in prison.”
Brett met Nick’s words with a smug, taunting grin. “That baby isn’t yours. You’ll never be its father.”
Nick jammed the oar harder against Brett’s neck. “I’ll be more of a father to that child than you could ever be.”
Brett released a tight laugh. “We’ll see about that.”
The struggling man shifted his body to the side. In the space of a breath, something sharp and jagged tore into the flesh of Nick’s thigh. He jumped back, freeing Brett. The bastard had pulled a rusty nail from the boathouse wall and jammed it into his leg. But Nick wasn’t about to let him get away. He raised the oar, and before Brett could dodge the blow, Nick slammed the blade into the man’s torso. Brett pitched forward and fell into the lake.
Nick stood, holding the oar like a baseball bat and watched the water. Only a sliver of sun remained visible in the sky. Dusk faded into darkness as he scanned the water, searching for any sign of Brett.
Where the hell had he gone?
He crouched down and peered under the boathouse. The ripple of waves caused by Brett’s body stilled, and the lake grew placid. Nick shook his head. He hit Brett hard, but not hard enough to kill. Christ! He didn’t have time to hang around and wait for Brett to come up for air. He had to find Lindsey. He had to get her out of there.
Lindsey pushed past a branch. Low hanging tree limbs and dense thickets scraped her arms and legs. It must have been years since anyone had trimmed back the tangle of vegetation.
The old Camp Clem trails, overgrown with weeds and tall grass, created a disorienting world of dead ends and dark twists and turns. The last rays of sun cast the forest in an eerie glow. The light would be gone soon, and there was nothing more haunting than a night alone under the thick Ozark canopy with only a sliver of moonlight.
She needed to run but couldn’t. Her bound arms and pregnant belly were slowing her down. She stopped and pressed her back against a tree trunk. She lifted her wrists to her mouth and bit the duct tape. The sticky adhesive tasted as awful as it smelled. She turned her head to go at it at from a different angle when it hit her.
Zoe.
The self-defense class.
There was another way to break free.
She raised her bound hands above her head and slammed them down against her thighs. Just like the demonstration, the tape tore apart. She ripped off the remaining pieces and threw them ont
o the ground.
Arms free, she ran. The trail disappeared into a mess of thorny bushes, but she worked her way through. The lake was to the east of her, and she continued uphill, edging closer to the bluff. The night sounds bloomed around her. Branches rustled. The familiar chirps and croaks of night creatures grew as the final rays of light disappeared into the darkness.
“You know this place,” she whispered. “Get to the rock.”
A sharp crack stopped her dead in her tracks. She crouched down and inhaled a ragged breath. It could be Nick. She scanned the darkness. A raccoon appeared from behind the underbrush less than a foot away, and Lindsey pitched backward, knocking into something cold and wet. Her hand swept over a booted foot.
“There you are, my love,” Brett cooed.
He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. He was soaked. Beads of water trailed down his face. His hand was clammy and damp. Lindsey leaned into him then pulled back, throwing her weight away from him. She broke free and started running.
“You think you can outrun me?” he called out.
He was behind her. His fingers brushed through her hair. But she kept moving. She ran right then left just as Nick had taught the campers to do when playing capture the flag, zigzagging wildly and staying just out of Brett’s reach.
It was working.
Brett couldn’t react quickly enough to the changing forest landscape and her erratic movements. He cursed and slipped. The crack of branches and his heavy footfalls trailed steps behind her. She closed in on Rachel and Rory’s rock and headed toward the edge of the bluff, but a tree root intersected her path and sent her careening to her knees.
Brett swooped in like a bird of prey and scooped her up, holding her in a bearhug, her back pressed to his chest and dragged her to the edge of the bluff. “You try to run again and your godmother’s dead.”
She stilled, chest heaving.
“Lindsey,” Nick yelled, rounding a pair of old maples.
Brett tightened his grip. “You come any closer, and I’ll push her over.”
Near the edge of the bluff, free of the thick canopy, the tiny slice of moon illuminated the small outcropping. Lindsey met Nick’s gaze, and he gave her a reassuring nod.
“Listen to me, Brett,” Nick said. He raised his hands defensively. “I’ve got my plane here. I can take you anywhere you want. But Lindsey’s not a part of the deal. She stays here.”
“No, Nick! No!” she cried.
Nick smiled a slow, sweet smile that tore her heart into pieces. “I love you, Linds. I love you and little banana more than anything, more than my own life.”
“Nick,” she gasped, but Brett slapped his hand over her mouth.
“Let me tell you something about myself, flyboy. I don’t take kindly to ultimatums. If I don’t get Lindsey, nobody does.”
Nick took a step forward. “Brett, be reasonable. It doesn’t have to end like this.”
A low sound buzzed in the distance. Lindsey craned her neck to get a better look.
“What is that?” Brett growled, turning as the searchlight of a helicopter panned back and forth across Lake Langhorne.
Nick took another step closer. He was only a few feet away. “Last chance, Brett. We still have time. Just let Lindsey go.”
The thrum of the helicopter blades intensified, and a wide beam of light passed over them.
Nick shielded his eyes as the chopper screamed past them in a burst of air and sound. “Now or never, Brett,” he yelled over the roar of the helicopter.
Brett hugged her body against his and leaned in. “You think you’re going to get your little happily ever after, don’t you?”
She struggled. He tightened his grip, and his hand clamped harder over her mouth.
“If I can’t have you, nobody can.”
A flurry of lights moved toward her, closing in from the forest. She met Nick’s gaze.
“Brett Mathews,” came a voice over a bullhorn. “This is the FBI. Release the woman and put your hands up.”
“You come any closer, and I’m taking her over the edge with me.” He was shaking and breathing hard. His chest heaved against her back in tight, punctuated pulses.
Within seconds, light was everywhere, and the deafening sound of a helicopter hovering above echoed through the camp. The sound rippled across the water. It was like being trapped inside a blender. Bits of earth and branches kicked up in a swirl of wild air.
“I always win,” Brett yelled, dragging her a step closer to the edge.
The dark foliage exploded with flashlights and armed men shouting back and forth. The helicopter maneuvered above her, droning on with a steady buzz. Her hair blew across her face, and Brett’s hand shifted and covered both her mouth and her nose.
It was hard to breathe, and everything blurred together. Lindsey closed her eyes. She saw her mother. Images of days spent on the Maine coastline and cocoa before bed clicked through her mind like projector slides. Rosemary came next. Their walks around Langley Park. The sun setting over Lake Boley. Her new friends gathered around her, holding her hands and listening as she shared her most painful secrets. And Nick at sixteen, wrapping his flannel shirt around her shoulders. Finally, Nick, singing to the baby. Their baby.
The projector in her mind faded to black. It was peaceful here. Quiet. But before she melted into the darkness, her mother’s face broke through like a million flashbulbs in an explosion of light.
“Fight for your life. Fight for your child. Never stop fighting!”
Never stop fighting.
She’d heard that before.
A switch flipped, and she was back. Back to the roaring helicopter. Back to the men yelling. She saw Nick. He was almost close enough to touch.
Fight for what you love.
Lindsey opened her mouth and bit down hard on Brett’s finger. His hand flew from her mouth, and he pulled her back. She drove her elbow into his side and kicked her heel into his shin.
“I am not your prize,” she yelled, flailing her arms.
Brett released her and struggled for balance. The earth shifted beneath them. Rocks and bits of dirt tumbled off the bluff. He fell back and grabbed onto the hem of her shirt. She was going over the edge. He was taking her with him. She reached out, praying to grab hold of a branch, a tree root, anything that would keep her from falling to her death. The light intensified, the air thickened around her. She stretched. Cool, moist air blew through her fingers until her body pitched forward, and two strong hands took hold of her wrists and pulled.
She opened her eyes and saw Nick’s face.
His gaze locked with hers. “I’ve got you. Hold on.”
She wrapped her hands around his wrists and held on for dear life.
The instant Brett let go, Nick pulled her onto the firm ground and wrapped his arms around her. Chaos broke out around them as teams of men emerged from the forest. The light from the chopper swept the water near the base of the bluff.
Agents surrounded them, but Nick wouldn’t let go. She buried her face into his chest and breathed in his scent.
“I fought him, Nick. I fought back. I fought for what I loved.”
He cupped her face and nodded as tears welled in his eyes. “Yes, you did, my brave, beautiful, Lindsey.”
She closed her eyes as the agents’ radios exploded with chatter.
“We’ve got a body. Confirming it’s the suspect Brett Mathews.”
Nick pressed a kiss to her temple. “It’s over.”
“No,” she said, meeting his gaze, “it’s just beginning.”
Epilogue
Water splashed against the sides of the clawfoot bathtub. Lindsey bit her lip and rolled her head to the side, eyes closed as she gripped the edge of the tub. Her breasts glistened. Beads of water ran down her chest carving sinful trails to her rounded abdomen. Nick squeezed her ass and thrust his pelvis. Lindsey’s core muscles tensed, and he released a low growl. She was close. More water sloshed out of the tub, but he didn’t give one
single fuck.
Lindsey had hit the thirty-seven week mark in her pregnancy, and little banana wasn’t little anymore. They had done all the things soon-to-be parents needed to do: packed the hospital bag, assembled the crib, taken the birthing classes, and their friends were on alert. Both Lindsey and Em could deliver any day now.
The early August sun ignited the red and golden highlights in her chestnut hair. She opened her eyes, and he surrendered to her hooded, blue-green gaze. His bride-to-be never looked so beautiful. She rocked her body, grinding into to him as she rode his cock. She set the pace, and he guided her body up and down through the cooling water. Even though it was a tight fit working his six foot four inch frame into the tub, with Lindsey’s growing belly, this had become their favorite place. And thanks to pregnancy hormones, they were in here a lot.
Their water bill was going to be a fucking beast.
He slid his hands down her smooth thighs and massaged her calves. Her breath came in shallow pants. He kissed her shoulder and inhaled her sweet cream and summer rain scent.
“Nick, oh, Nick,” she breathed.
He gripped her ass with one hand, water swishing, droplets making watery pathways down the tiled wall as she increased her pace. Flying couldn’t hold a candle to watching this woman come. She released the sides of the tub and leaned forward. Lindsey gripped his shoulders, and he cupped her face, guiding their mouths together for a scorching kiss.
She slid her hands into his hair and pulled hard. The sensation shot straight to his cock, and he thrust harder. Lindsey released a low, sexy moan, sending him over the edge. Her supple body writhing, wet breasts bobbing, she was glorious. She scraped her nails down his chest and consumed every ounce of pleasure her body could take. He gripped her hips and let loose, his body screaming for release. He came hard in a thunderclap of water, and breath, and skin gliding against skin. If this was just the beginning, he couldn’t fucking wait for what life had in store for them.
The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5) Page 75