by Rita Herron
Then he’d managed to soothe her because Simpleton was in custody.
Now . . .
“What happened?” she asked, her eyes searching his.
He wanted to lie and tell her that he’d just been in the area and thought he’d drop by and check on her. But he couldn’t do that and protect her.
“Three prisoners broke out of the state pen,” he said bluntly. “I’m afraid Robert Simpleton was one of them.”
Robert Simpleton ripped off his prison uniform in the bathroom, grinning as he looked down at the initials he’d carved on his upper arm.
LL. Lenora Lockhart.
A vision of blond loveliness that had fueled his wet dreams in prison for the last few years. He wanted to touch her, hold her, shove his dick down her throat and inside her.
Make her pay for what she’d done to him.
All this time he’d done without a woman because of that bitch.
He yanked on the T-shirt and jeans his friend had stashed in the car for him, then pulled out the mustache and sideburns kit and began creating his disguise.
Lenora would remember the scraggly locks of hair that he once had, but she wouldn’t recognize the shaved and totally tattooed head that was now his signature. The snakes that crawled across his bald head wrapped around a skeleton’s bones.
Twenty minutes later, he eyed his new look in the mirror with a grin and admired the artwork that adorned his entire body.
Someone knocked on the door, then his friend’s voice called his name.
“You about ready, Robert?”
He chuckled to himself. Keeping in good with Cissy had been a smart move on his part. Cissy had always wanted him.
He opened the door and hauled her inside. Her startled yelp turned to a sultry smile as he tore her shirt off, lowered his mouth and sucked her tits.
“God, Robert, I’ve wanted you for so long,” she whispered.
She smelled like sweat, cigarettes, and booze, the latter two nearly making him gag. Lenora had smelled feminine, like lavender and sweetness, the way a woman should.
At least she had when he’d first abducted her.
Cissy ran her tongue across his jaw and anger sparked inside him. He didn’t want her.
He wanted Lenora.
But Cissy ripped down his zipper and shoved at his pants, then closed her hand around his dick, and he groaned. If he didn’t hurry, he was going to come all over her hand. He’d had enough hand jobs in prison.
Breath heaving, he spun her around, pushed her up against the bathroom wall, shoved her skirt up and gripped her hips. She wore black panties that he ripped with one hand, then he thrust his bulging cock inside her.
She groaned his name, clawing at the wall as he fucked her senseless. Their bodies slammed against each other, sweat sliding against sweat, his cock ramming harder and harder until he exploded inside her.
His cum dripped down her legs as he pulled out.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Now we can finally be together.”
Disgust filled him at the sight of her. Instead, Lenora’s beautiful face flashed in his mind, taunting him.
Cissy might have wanted him forever. But he had other plans for his future.
A future that didn’t involve her.
She twisted in his arms, smiling as she turned to face him, her tits red and swollen from his mouth, her eyes still glazed with passion.
And the promise of more.
But there would be no more for her. She’d served her purpose.
He slid one hand down and retrieved the pocketknife she’d included in the duffel bag, flipped it open and slit her throat.
Her gasp of pain and shock made his cock harden again, and he stroked himself as he watched the blood drain from her. Then he carefully carved the X between her breasts. He wanted to mark her as he had his other victims. Wanted the world to know that he was back.
Satisfied, he dropped her lifeless body to the floor, yanked his pants back up, grabbed the duffel bag, and stuffed the toiletry kit inside.
The clock was ticking, the minutes passing. The cops would be looking for him. They might warn Lenora he was coming.
But he’d find a way to get her.
To have her.
And this time no one would stop him.
Five years later
The last thing Sergeant Micah Hardin wanted to do today was to have to tell Lenora Lockhart that Robert Simpleton, the man who’d abducted and brutalized her, had escaped from prison.
But she had to know because most likely Simpleton would come after her.
He cursed as he drove toward the outskirts of Austin where she’d moved after Simpleton’s trial.
She’d been battered and traumatized from her captivity, but still, she’d summoned enough courage to face the bastard in court and name every horrific thing she’d endured.
Then her fiancé had left her.
Son of a bitch. How could he have walked away from such a brave, gutsy woman and the life they’d planned together?
Lenora hadn’t deserved the abuse Simpleton had inflicted on her. And she sure as hell hadn’t deserved for the man who’d professed to love her to abandon her when she’d needed him most.
Not that Lenora was his problem. She’d been a case. Nothing more.
Except . . . he’d found her in that awful, filthy boxlike room and felt the terror quivering through her when he’d carried her out into the light to safety.
He’d seen a lot of sick assholes in his day, but Simpleton was one of the worst. As much as he’d tried to steel himself against the gruesome details, his heart had ached for Lenora.
At least she had survived. Although experience told him that some victims preferred death to the trauma of living a life after the hell they’d endured.
What about Lenora? Was she still suffering? Had she managed to put her nightmares to rest and move on with her life?
Sweat exploded on his brow as guilt assaulted him.
If she had, he was about to destroy that sense of peace.
Dammit to hell, the sadist and the other two prisoners who’d escaped the state pen should never have been allowed visitors or mail. Because they had to have had help from the outside to plan their escape.
Of course, that help could have come from the inside. Other prisoners’ contacts, security officers, chow hall staff, even counselors could be bought with money or sympathy.
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why anyone would feel sorry for Robert Simpleton or the other two men because they’d committed heinous crimes against women.
The FBI was investigating the prison employees and inmates now. Even the warden had fallen under intense scrutiny.
Thankfully one of the prisoners Geoffrey Jones had been found. A Texas Ranger had beaten the feds to him and killed the bastard.
He chuckled. Sometimes the feds and Rangers fought over jurisdiction. But this time they’d welcomed the help. Dangerous prisoners on the loose tended to cause panic, and there had been four murders inside the prison in one month, meaning the FBI had their work cut out there.
Ranches and farmland sprawled across the terrain, reminding him of his own spread outside Austin. Lenora would need a safe place to hide until they caught Simpleton.
What would she think about going to his ranch with him?
An image of Lenora in his home taunted him. Lenora in his kitchen sipping coffee and sharing breakfast with him. Lenora outside riding across his land . . .
Jesus, he could not go there, could not start thinking about her in a personal way.
His job was to protect her and find Simpleton, not get involved with her.
Or fantasize about having her for himself.
No, detective work and relationships didn’t mix.
He’d make sure Lenora was
safe until Simpleton was back in the pen—or dead—then he’d leave her in peace again so she could find the happiness Simpleton had stolen from her.
Lenora adjusted the display of wedding veils hanging by the floor length mirror, then moved on to straighten the shoe rack before rehanging the dresses Edie Nivens had spent the morning trying on.
Finally, the young bride-to-be had chosen a white strapless, sweetheart gown with lacy overlays. Lenora had taken her measurements for alterations and ordered shoes and the veil Edie had wanted.
Edie had left happy, relaxed and chattering nonstop about her upcoming big day.
A sliver of sadness threatened to destroy Lenora’s good mood, but she tamped it down. Her mother and everyone else who’d known her before the attack thought she was crazy for opening a bridal shop when her own nuptials had been called off so suddenly.
When her heart had been broken.
But she’d rebelled against sympathy and the pitying stares—she’d endured too much of that after her abduction and the trial where she’d had to bare her soul in public.
So she’d chosen to dive into a career that would allow her to at least experience joy through others’ happiness.
Just because she hadn’t found true love and her happily-ever-after and didn’t expect to, didn’t mean that she couldn’t enjoy helping others have that special day.
Truth was, the bridal shop had been cathartic for her. Too long she’d lived in that dark world, undergoing therapy, reliving the nightmares as she relayed details of her ordeal to lawyers and counselors, and then reading about her experiences in the paper the following day.
She had survived. But not without major scars, mostly invisible to others. The nightmares still tormented her at night. The demons and shadows still haunted her. The fear . . . threatened to immobilize her at the most unexpected times.
But she refused to succumb to that fear and let it paralyze her. Focusing on the darkness would rob her sanity.
And that would be a win for the sick bastard who’d hurt her.
Her assistant, Jenny Beal, flipped the closed sign on the front store door, then turned to her with a smile. “Whew. What a busy day.”
“June is the big month for weddings.” Which meant that brides-to-be had to order their dresses and start planning in the summer and fall. Rush jobs made everything more stressful and created unnecessary problems.
“Go on home,” Lenora said. “I’ll stay and finish for the day.”
Jenny beamed a smile. “Thanks, Lenora. My boyfriend said he had plans for us tonight.”
Lenora’s heart fluttered. “You think he’s going to propose?”
Jenny’s green eyes lit up. “I don’t know. I hope so!” She laughed, then practically bounced across the room in her excitement, her ponytail bobbing as she slung her purse over her shoulder and rushed out the back door.
Lenora watched her leave with a mixture of emotions. Joy for the twenty-three-year-old filled her. Even though she was only twenty-eight herself, she felt old. Ancient.
Hardened. Jaded.
And . . . lonely.
Had she ever been that naive and full of dreams?
Yes . . . before Robert Simpleton.
But he was locked away now and she was safe. That was all that mattered.
Sighing, she walked over to the cash register, tallied up the money and receipts for the day, then removed the credit card slips and checks and put them in the safe in her office. Tomorrow she’d make a bank deposit, but tonight she had a date with a bubble bath.
A noise sounded from the back, and she startled. Damn her nerves. It was probably just Jenny coming back for something. She was notorious for forgetting her keys.
She headed to the double doors leading to the back, but a knock on the front door made her jump.
Irritated with herself for being so jittery, she turned and walked to the front, then peered through the glass expecting to see Jenny.
But her breath caught at the sight of a man on the front stoop.
Not just any man. Sgt. Micah Hardin.
Memories flooded her. The dark prison room, his deep voice calling to her, his warm hand clasping hers and pulling her out, his strong arms carrying her to safety and into the light.
She’d had such a difficult time and hadn’t trusted anyone but him back then, so the prosecutor had asked him to stay throughout the trial. His soft reassurances as he’d supported her through her testimony had saved her.
The familiar sting of tears, panic and fear seized her. She hadn’t seen the Texas Ranger in years.
There was only one reason she could think of that he was here now.
Robert Simpleton must be out of jail.
And if he was, he was on his way to find her and kill her.
Micah’s gut clenched at the instant fear that snapped into Lenora’s eyes as she opened the door to her bridal shop.
Had she already heard about the prison escape?
Feminine scents suffused him as he stepped inside, the sight of dozens of bridal gowns, veils, shoes, and accessories striking him as ironic. He’d heard Lenora had opened a wedding shop and thought it odd since her fiancé had dumped her before the trial.
But an image of Lenora in the satin sheath hanging in front of the mirror to the right hit him, and his aching heart skipped a beat.
“Micah,” she said in a throaty whisper. “You should have called.”
“I wanted to see you in person.” And offer my services to protect you.
She crossed her arms, her delicate jaw tightening just enough for him to see that she was nervous and trying to hide it. He’d noticed the same telltale signs at the trial.
Then he’d managed to soothe her because Simpleton was in custody.
Now . . .
“What happened?” she asked, her eyes searching his.
He wanted to lie and tell her that he’d just been in the area and thought he’d drop by and check on her. But he couldn’t do that and protect her.
“Three prisoners broke out of the state pen,” he said bluntly. “I’m afraid Robert Simpleton was one of them.”
Robert Simpleton ripped off his prison uniform in the bathroom, grinning as he looked down at the initials he’d carved on his upper arm.
LL. Lenora Lockhart.
A vision of blond loveliness that had fueled his wet dreams in prison for the last few years. He wanted to touch her, hold her, shove his dick down her throat and inside her.
Make her pay for what she’d done to him.
All this time he’d done without a woman because of that bitch.
He yanked on the T-shirt and jeans his friend had stashed in the car for him, then pulled out the mustache and sideburns kit and began creating his disguise.
Lenora would remember the scraggly locks of hair that he once had, but she wouldn’t recognize the shaved and totally tattooed head that was now his signature. The snakes that crawled across his bald head wrapped around a skeleton’s bones.
Twenty minutes later, he eyed his new look in the mirror with a grin and admired the artwork that adorned his entire body.
Someone knocked on the door, then his friend’s voice called his name.
“You about ready, Robert?”
He chuckled to himself. Keeping in good with Cissy had been a smart move on his part. Cissy had always wanted him.
He opened the door and hauled her inside. Her startled yelp turned to a sultry smile as he tore her shirt off, lowered his mouth and sucked her tits.
“God, Robert, I’ve wanted you for so long,” she whispered.
She smelled like sweat, cigarettes, and booze, the latter two nearly making him gag. Lenora had smelled feminine, like lavender and sweetness, the way a woman should.
At least she had when he’d first abducted her.
Cissy ran he
r tongue across his jaw and anger sparked inside him. He didn’t want her.
He wanted Lenora.
But Cissy ripped down his zipper and shoved at his pants, then closed her hand around his dick, and he groaned. If he didn’t hurry, he was going to come all over her hand. He’d had enough hand jobs in prison.
Breath heaving, he spun her around, pushed her up against the bathroom wall, shoved her skirt up and gripped her hips. She wore black panties that he ripped with one hand, then he thrust his bulging cock inside her.
She groaned his name, clawing at the wall as he fucked her senseless. Their bodies slammed against each other, sweat sliding against sweat, his cock ramming harder and harder until he exploded inside her.
His cum dripped down her legs as he pulled out.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Now we can finally be together.”
Disgust filled him at the sight of her. Instead, Lenora’s beautiful face flashed in his mind, taunting him.
Cissy might have wanted him forever. But he had other plans for his future.
A future that didn’t involve her.
She twisted in his arms, smiling as she turned to face him, her tits red and swollen from his mouth, her eyes still glazed with passion.
And the promise of more.
But there would be no more for her. She’d served her purpose.
He slid one hand down and retrieved the pocketknife she’d included in the duffel bag, flipped it open and slit her throat.
Her gasp of pain and shock made his cock harden again, and he stroked himself as he watched the blood drain from her. Then he carefully carved the X between her breasts. He wanted to mark her as he had his other victims. Wanted the world to know that he was back.
Satisfied, he dropped her lifeless body to the floor, yanked his pants back up, grabbed the duffel bag, and stuffed the toiletry kit inside.
The clock was ticking, the minutes passing. The cops would be looking for him. They might warn Lenora he was coming.
But he’d find a way to get her.
To have her.
