Ruthless

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Ruthless Page 20

by Lisa Jackson


  Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to block out images of dark figures involved in drug deals or worse.... Though she’d finally accepted that his business dealings were shady, what Jake seemed so sure of was much more evil than she’d ever believed possible.

  She felt Jake’s finger under her chin. He lifted her face. “It’s going to be all right,” he said. “I guarantee it.”

  Her stomach jerked as he leaned down to kiss her with such warmth and tenderness she thought her heart would break.

  “You’re sure about this?”

  “Positive,” he said with conviction. “Now, tomorrow morning we’ll pretend everything is normal, okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered, but as he lifted her from her feet and carried her back into the bedroom, she had a sinking sensation that her life would never be normal again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Click.

  Jake stirred, one eye opening. Had he heard something? Quietly, so as not to disturb Kimberly, he rolled out of bed and yanked on his jeans.

  From the living room Lupus growled low in his throat.

  The warning hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stood on end as he moved barefoot through the darkness to the hallway. The floor was cold, the house silent. His ears strained, and his eyes, growing accustomed to the half-light, searched the shadowy house.

  Lupus padded up to him, his ears cocked toward the kitchen. He growled again, then started barking wildly.

  “Jake?” Kimberly’s voice caught his attention, and he turned. From the corner of his eye he saw a movement, darker than the house—the black figure of an intruder.

  Jake scrambled for the light switch, but his hand was yanked hard behind him and something crashed down on his head. Lights exploded behind his eyes. Pain ripped through his body. His legs gave way, and he fell to his knees. Think, McGowan, think!

  “Jake?”

  “Get out of here!” he yelled, but it was too late.

  Kimberly found the switch, and the kitchen was flooded with intense blinding white. Her eyes moved from Jake to the intruder, a big burly blond man with a ponytail. “Jake . . . Oh, God!”

  Lupus leaped into the air, lunging for the intruder’s throat.

  “Run!” Jake yelled, and was rewarded with a swift kick that knocked the air from his lungs. “Kimberly, run!” His face crashed against the cold floor. He blinked, trying to keep unconsciousness at bay. The overhead light in the kitchen was blinding, and he couldn’t focus. But Lupus had the intruder down, his jaws clamped around the burly, blond man’s arm.

  “You damn bastard,” the man yelled, trying to beat Lupus off. But the shepherd wouldn’t let go.

  Kimberly ran from the room. He heard her footsteps on the stairs leading to Lindsay’s room.

  Staggering, Jake jumped on the blond man, and his fist crashed into a stubbled jaw, sending pain jarring up his arm. Bones cracked, and the big man groaned. Jake wouldn’t let up. They struggled, each pounding the other.

  Breathing hard, Jake found his feet just as Burly did the same.

  The man took a swing at Jake and missed, and Lupus attacked again, lunging for the intruder’s rubbery legs while Jake connected with a left hook.

  “Who the hell are you?” Jake growled, feeling hot, sticky liquid running down his face as the man stumbled backward. Jake curled his fingers around the bigger man’s jacket and lifted him back to his feet. “Don’t tell me, you’re one of Fisher’s goons!”

  “He’s Robert’s bodyguard,” Kimberly said, returning to the kitchen with a wide-eyed, frightened Lindsay huddled against her.

  Jake’s nostrils flared, and he pulled the man closer, meeting him face-to-face. “Call 911,” he yelled to Kimberly, though his eyes didn’t leave the beefy man. “Talk to Detective Brecken. Tell him to send a squad car on the double.”

  “Don’t bother,” a cool voice said from behind his head.

  Jake realized with sickening certainty that his worst fear was being realized. Fisher was there, for Lindsay!

  “Let him go,” Robert commanded.

  Jake’s fingers tamed the denim clenched between his fingers. He wasn’t about to release the man, not yet. He turned and eyed the man who was his sworn enemy. Robert, standing in the doorway, seemed calm, but his eyes were slitted, and the raincoat he’d tossed over his shoulders didn’t hide the barrel of a small pistol he was pointing directly at Jake’s chest.

  “I said, let him go.” Fisher repeated.

  “Daddy?” Lindsay’s small voice asked.

  Robert flicked a glance her way and he actually smiled, not the cold, calculating grin that Jake associated with Fisher, but a warm smile. “I’m sorry, honey,” he said, adjusting the coat to hide his pistol. “This’ll be over in a little while, and we’ll go for a ride.”

  Lindsay clung tightly to her mother. “I don’t want a ride.”

  “Sure you do. That’ll be fun.” His gaze moved to Kimberly. “Pack her clothes.”

  “No,” Kimberly cried. “Get out of here, Robert, before I call the police! You have no right—”

  “Do it, Kim!” he commanded again, momentarily distracted.

  Lupus, who had been quelled at Kimberly’s feet, sprang. “No!” Jake cried.

  Fisher reacted, shooting blindly. The shot blasted through the house, and Lupus’s body flinched. The dog yipped pitifully and fell to the floor. Blood stained the shepherd’s white coat near his hip.

  “You bastard!” Jake dropped the bodyguard and took a step forward, but Robert waved the gun in his face.

  “Back off, McGowan.”

  “No! No!” Lindsay cried, her face twisted as she tried to climb from her mother’s arms and reach Lupus.

  “Shh, honey, shh,” Kimberly whispered.

  “Lupus!” Lindsay wailed.

  “Let him be,” Fisher ordered, forcing Jake away from the dog. His gaze shifted back to Kimberly. “I mean it, Kim. Move it!”

  “Daddy, oh, Daddy, you shot Lupus . . . You shot him dead. I hate you!” Lindsay cried, big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “I hate you forever!”

  Robert’s composure cracked a little. Regret darkened his eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “You’re not taking her anywhere,” Kimberly said, sounding much stronger than she felt.

  His expression turned ugly. “You’ve got no choice in the matter,” he said, his teeth clenching together.

  Lindsay buried her face in her mother’s neck, and Jake moved slowly, positioning himself between Fisher and Kimberly. He glanced pointedly at the blond man huddled in the corner. Old Ponytail was holding his jaw and breathing hard. Blood oozed from his mouth.

  “You’d better find yourself another bodyguard, Fisher,” Jake baited. “This one’s about dead on his feet.”

  Lupus whimpered pitifully.

  “Hang in there,” Jake whispered, his heart twisting, fury firing his blood.

  “All those stories are true, aren’t they?” Kimberly asked, eyeing the man who had been her husband. Her throat worked, and tears stood in her gorgeous eyes.

  Robert didn’t bother to answer. He tried to shoulder past Jake to get to Lindsay, but Jake blocked his path. “It’s all over, Fisher,” he said, his pulse throbbing in his brain.

  Fisher barked out a cruel laugh. “It’s not over until I get my daughter. Get out of the way, McGowan.”

  But Jake didn’t budge. He noticed Kimberly inching backward toward the hall. “If I were you, I’d leave now, before the police get here. Someone’s bound to have heard the shot, and there just may be people outside waiting for you. People who may have already contacted the cops.”

  Robert’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? Who?”

  But Jake didn’t answer.

  Robert motioned to his bodyguard. The burly man stepped forward and reached for Lindsay. Jake attacked, hitting the man squarely in the midsection as the front door burst open.

  “Hold it! Police!” A harsh male voice boomed through the house.

 
Robert whirled, heading for the back door, but another policeman was on the back porch. His gun aimed at Robert’s chest. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned.

  Robert dropped his gun, and Kimberly, still clutching Lindsay, fell into Jake’s arms. A few minutes later Detective Brecken appeared. With a grin at Jake he snapped handcuffs on Robert and instructed the younger policeman to read Fisher his rights. But Fisher wasn’t finished. He glared at Jake, and his gaze oozed pure hatred. “I’m not talking until I speak with my lawyer,” he clipped, then his eyes turned to Kimberly. “You know, Kim, you don’t have a very good track record of taking lovers. Your boy here—” he motioned to Jake “—isn’t interested in you as much as he wanted to get at me.”

  “Shut up, Fisher,” Brecken warned.

  But Robert was picking up speed. “He’s only involved with you because he’s on some wild-goose chase, a vendetta for his brother. He’s got the crazy notion I was involved in his death. Well, I wasn’t. The man did himself in. And as for caring for you, get real. McGowan’s a loner. Only cares about himself and, of course, vengeance. Daniel Stevens killed himself, McGowan. Face it.”

  “Can it, Fisher,” the younger policeman said.

  Kimberly sagged against the wall and held her daughter close. Her heart was thudding in her brain. Robert’s wild accusations didn’t make any sense.

  But it was over. Thank God, it was over.

  Her arms tightened around Lindsay, and she fought back the urge to break into tears of relief.

  “You okay?” Jake asked, touching her on the arm. His warmth filled her with an inner strength, and she nodded weakly, still using the wall for support.

  Jake snatched a clean dish towel and bent over Lupus as Ron Koski sauntered in. “I’m glad you called,” Koski said. “Even if it did mean freezing my tail off.”

  “Thanks,” Jake replied, “I owe you one.”

  “Make it a draught.”

  Jake nodded, his face white beneath his tan as he tended Lupus’s wound.

  Kimberly glanced from Ron to Jake, who was trying to stem the flow of blood from Lupus’s midsection.

  “This is my friend, the private investigator,” Jake muttered, wincing as the dog whimpered. “Ron Koski—Kimberly Bennett and Lindsay. Ron staked out the place and had told the police what he was doing. He alerted Detective Brecken the minute Fisher pulled up.”

  Kimberly was stunned. So that’s how the police had arrived so quickly. Jake had known Robert would show up?

  “Will Lupus be all right?” Lindsay whispered.

  Kimberly’s heart stuck in her throat. “I hope so, honey.”

  Ron leaned over the dog. “I’ll take this old boy to the vet,” he offered. “You take care of the ladies.”

  “We’ll be okay,” Kimberly said, seeing the pain in Jake’s eyes, the emotions he was trying to keep at bay. Her own eyes filled with tears, and rage burned deep inside.

  She looked at the man who had been her husband and felt sick. “Don’t you ever, ever come into my house again,” she said through clenched teeth. “And stay away from my daughter!”

  “She’s my daughter, too,” Robert reminded her.

  Lindsay shook her head and cried. Kimberly carried her into the living room, away from the bleeding dog and the sight of her father being led, swearing and cuffed, to the squad car outside.

  Still holding her daughter, Kimberly dropped into a rocker, barely listening to the sounds of voices and feet shuffling in the kitchen. She switched on the Christmas tree and stared at the light, singing softly to her child, hoping the nightmare would go away. But Lindsay continued to sob, crying for Lupus.

  Kimberly didn’t even hear Jake approach. “We both have to go down to the station,” he said softly.

  She glanced up, seeing his bloodied face and loving him. “I know.”

  Detective Brecken entered the room. “It’s just a formality.”

  “And my daughter?” Kimberly finally asked.

  “She’s been through enough tonight,” Brecken replied. “If you have some place she’d be comfortable . . .”

  Kimberly nodded. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  “No!” Lindsay wailed. “Please, mommy, don’t leave me.”

  “Oh, I won’t, precious.” Kimberly said, her throat tight. She looked at Jake and swallowed hard. “She’ll come with us,” she said firmly. “I’ll call Arlene and ask her to go with us.”

  “Good idea.”

  Kimberly reached for the phone.

  * * *

  It wasn’t until they were in the police station, giving their accounts of Robert’s kidnap attempt on Lindsay, that Kimberly started piecing all the facts together. And she didn’t like the conclusions she was drawing.

  She and Jake had finished giving their statements and were drinking bitter coffee from white cups. Detective Brecken had told them to go home for the night.

  “Who was Daniel Stevens?” she asked as she crumpled her cup and threw it in the trash.

  Jake’s jaw hardened. His grey eyes grew cold. “When we get home,” he said, “and Lindsay’s asleep—we’ll talk. I have a lot to explain.”

  Kimberly’s stomach twisted painfully, and she barely heard anything Arlene or Lindsay said all the way back to Sellwood. They dropped Arlene off, then returned to the house. Shivering, Kimberly carried Lindsay inside.

  Jake dialed the emergency veterinarian clinic for a report on Lupus, and Kimberly carried Lindsay upstairs to her bed. “No!” Lindsay whispered, refusing to let go of her mother’s neck as Kimberly tried to lay her down. “Mommy, please, can I sleep with you?”

  Kimberly smiled sadly. “Of course you can, sweetheart.” She wished she’d thought of it herself. Lindsay had just gotten over her nightmares, and now she’d witnessed her father shooting a favorite pet, threatening her mother and then being handcuffed and taken away in a police car. Lindsay would need time and patience to understand everything that had happened tonight. And so, Kimberly thought, would she.

  “Come on, we’ll take your blanket and Sebastian.” She scooped up Lindsay’s pink elephant and wrapped the faded blanket around Lindsay’s shoulders.

  Downstairs Jake had cleaned up the kitchen, but his face was grim and set. He watched as she carried Lindsay into the bedroom.

  “You sleep now, too,” Lindsay whispered as Kimberly settled her into the bed.

  “Of course I will,” Kimberly said. “It’s late and I’m tired.” That was a lie. She was so keyed up, she couldn’t imagine falling asleep. A thousand unanswered questions raced through her mind. How had Robert got in? Why had he come this night? How had Jake known? What did Robert’s crazy comment about Jake’s brother mean? Jake didn’t have a brother—or did he?

  Confused, she snapped off the light and climbed into bed beside her daughter. Lindsay instinctively cuddled closer. Kimberly knew she’d never sleep; she heard Jake in the kitchen, talking on the phone in a low voice, cleaning up, trying to be quiet and failing.

  She stared out the window, watching snowflakes fall against the panes. Lindsay’s breathing evened out, and Kimberly forced her eyes closed. In the morning, she thought, finally drifting off. In the morning Jake will explain everything, and it will be all right. She’d never have to worry about losing Lindsay again.

  * * *

  Jake hung up and shoved his hair from his eyes. He felt the matted blood on his scalp and wondered if he should have had the wound looked at. Hell, what did it matter? He was alive, wasn’t he? Fisher was behind bars. Lindsay was safely with her mother for the rest of her life.

  Lupus, unfortunately, wasn’t doing too well. The bullet had ripped through his flank and done some internal damage. The vet had performed surgery, but it would be touch and go for a little while.

  He poured himself a cup of coffee and stared unseeingly through the kitchen window to the black night beyond. Robert Fisher was finally where he should be. So, why didn’t Jake feel an intense satisfaction, a lifting of the weight that had been on
his shoulders for years?

  He glanced to the short hallway in the bedroom beyond. Now he’d have to tell her everything and admit that he’d lied, and, yes, in the beginning, used her.

  And there was Lindsay to think about, a child, for Pete’s sake. A child he cared about, a child he was willing to claim as his own.

  And the dog—whether he wanted to face it or not—Lupus might not make it.

  Damn Robert Fisher and damn this whole mess!

  He finished his coffee, threw the dregs down the sink and snapped out the lights. Snatching an old quilt from the back of the couch, he headed toward Kimberly’s bedroom and cracked the door quietly open.

  The scene before his eyes tore at his soul. Kimberly and Lindsay, close together, their faces washed by pale light filtering through the window, were both asleep. Their expressions were calm and peaceful. Outside, the snow was falling again, promising a white Christmas, and the house was silent except for the soft ticking of a clock in the living room.

  He sat in the rocker near the corner and stared at the two people he’d come to think of as his family. At least they were his for a little longer. Until Kimberly discovered the truth. He wrapped a blanket around him and waited.

  * * *

  Kimberly’s head pounded. She had to force her eyes open against the gray light of dawn. A warm lump cuddled close to her, and she instinctively touched Lindsay’s tangled crown.

  Yawning, she noticed Jake seated in the rocker near the foot of the bed. His eyes, a little bloodshot, were open and staring at her. His hair had been freshly washed; beads of water still shown in his dark strands. He hadn’t bothered shaving, and the dark shadow of his beard added to his innate sexuality. She smiled because she loved him so much.

  At the sight of her, his lips parted in a smile and despite his injuries, he was beautiful. God, how she’d love to wake up to his cocky, irreverent smile every morning.

  “Been up long?” she asked, pulling on her robe.

  “About an hour.”

  “Short night,” she observed, cinching the belt.

 

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