Die for You

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Die for You Page 26

by Michele Mills


  So he’d run some more.

  Now he was spent, all his anger gone. Well, most of it.

  Then the truth had flooded his mind, as clear as a sunny day. When he really thought it through, examined what had happened, he realized this was nothing like the past. Lori and Danny had fallen in love, which looking back, made sense. He and Lori had never been right for each other. Adam had wanted to take things to the next level, introduce her to that side of himself, bring her into that lifestyle. But she hadn’t wanted any of it, and how would that have played out over the years? What if he’d had to cut off that side of himself, that side that needed to dominate, to call the shots, in order to keep her happy? Would he have been happy?

  Fuck, no.

  They would have broken up anyway. Lori and Danny had done the right thing. It was better to have ended things before they got sticky, before he’d done something stupid like propose marriage, and a mortgage and two kids made it impossible to get away.

  It was just the shock that had rocked his world and sent him into a tailspin of sudden anger.

  His mind flashed to Rachel. To the tears that had flooded her eyes, the fear in her voice. He’d done that to her, made her feel that way. His chest tightened. Embarrassment over his own out-of-control behavior crowded his mind.

  He had a lot of making up to do.

  Trevor appeared next to the truck, interrupting Adam’s thoughts, his face a dark thundercloud. “Where the fuck have you been?”

  Adam opened the driver’s side door. “Don’t start with me. You were there, you saw what went down. I needed to get out and blow off some steam so I didn’t hurt someone.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve been gone for two hours.”

  “I know, but I—”

  “She’s gone, Adam,” Trevor said, cutting him off. “Rachel’s gone. She’s disappeared.”

  “What?”

  “She’s gone. We can’t find her anywhere.”

  “What do you mean she’s gone?” he snarled. “For how long? I’ve only been gone for two fucking hours. How did you lose her? Did you look in the—”

  “Right after you left, I got into it with Christian. We started throwing punches in the bedroom.” Trevor instinctively touched his black eye and winced. “Afterwards, I realized Rachel had walked out of the room. I went to find her, to see how she was holding up, but she wasn’t in the house. We’ve looked everywhere. She’s not on the farm. We were about to get in the car and start widening the search when you drove up.”

  “Adam?” Christian said.

  His fisted his hands. “Don’t,” he told Christian. He would discuss this with Christian later and find out why he had responded to the news Rachel might be pregnant the way he had.

  Christian nodded. Adam noticed he didn’t look much better than Trevor, his lip cut and bleeding, his jaw red and swollen. “Noted,” Christian said. “But there’s something you need to know. Rachel was armed. Before you two walked upstairs, I watched her put the Glock in her back holster.”

  Adam looked up at the sky. “Thank fuck.” Jesus, why had he left? He’d stormed off in a fit of anger and left her and their unborn child unprotected when he knew they were being watched and now she was gone. He’d left her in the house with two other men. But ultimately, it wasn’t their responsibility to take care of her. It was his. This was his fault. His own fucking fault. If anything happened to Rachel, he’d never forgive himself, never get over it. His hand went up, rubbing against the pain lancing through his chest.

  “I was out on the golf cart,” Christian continued, “looking for her a few minutes ago. I found fresh tire tracks up near the front gate. There are too many of them to be just from your truck, and they weren’t made by our carts.”

  “She’s been kidnapped,” Trevor concluded.

  “Shit, who knows how many men there were,” Adam said, his mind flashing through a dozen what-if scenarios, none of them good, all of them involving a bunch of fucking assholes stealing his woman and hurting her.

  “What do you want to do next?” Trevor asked.

  “I’m going to pull up the digital maps and figure out where they might have gone, then I’m going to arm myself and track whoever took her, kill those motherfuckers and bring her back home.”

  “We,” Trevor growled. “We are going to kill those motherfuckers and bring her home.”

  Adam nodded. “Let’s get going.”

  * * * * *

  Rachel sat in a cage, alone and scared. Spike had come by an hour ago and thrown a cold can of Dinty Moore beef stew and a spoon through the bars of the enormous animal enclosure she was locked in. She’d scarfed it down and chugged on the water bottle he’d also left for her. At least starving and thirsty weren’t on her list of miseries. But that had been an hour ago. Darkness was falling, and now her cage was growing dark, chilly…and miserable.

  Chilly because they were in the mountains and she was still dressed in nothing but that damn red silk shirt and tight pants. Miserable because she’d been thrown into the back of a van with Phoebe and Josie, needing to pee like a race horse for an hour and a half until they’d reached their destination near the entrance to the Kings Canyon National Forest.

  And now here she was, alone in a cage. A huge animal cage.

  When they’d driven up, Spike had told her this place used to be called the Cat Haven, a former preserve and sanctuary for big cats nestled amongst the pine trees and jagged terrain of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Spike said Earl and Roger had freed all the big cats over two months ago. She wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad. Good for the cats, she supposed, at least they had a fair chance at survival, not so good for the humans left behind living with all those predators lurking about.

  The cage stank so badly like cat urine her eyes watered. The cats had been freed two months ago and it still stank to high heaven. Dried hunks of feces were everywhere, but she’d managed to clear an area using a stick she’d found on the ground. She sat huddled in a corner, arms tightly around her knees, bars digging into her bare back. A cool breeze of fresh mountain air brushed her skin.

  Here she was, all done up like Carrie from Sex in the City, or Sandra Dee from Grease, and what was she doing with all that glam? Sitting in a stinking cat cage.

  Wonderful.

  She dropped her forehead to her knees. Her heart hurt. What was happening to Phoebe and Josie? Were they okay? They’d been separated as soon as they’d arrived. Rachel was sure everyone else was sitting in generator-induced, air-conditioned luxury, eating warm food and smelling clean air in the main lodge. At least she hoped this was true for Josie and Phoebe’s sake. Meanwhile, she was out here roughing it, caged like an animal.

  Of course it was psychological. Spike was trying to break her. And he was doing a great job of it too.

  The moment they’d stepped out of the van, Roger and Earl had dragged Phoebe and little Josie inside the main lodge. Spike had kept her outside. He’d stood in front of her. Close. Too close. “Roger and Earl are sharing the other woman,” he’d told her, eyes cold and hard and filled with desire.

  Her heart had started racing, palms sweating. She knew what sharing meant. Adam had shared her with Trevor. But what Spike was talking about would be nothing like the passion she’d experienced in her men’s arms. It wouldn’t be for Phoebe’s pleasure. They wouldn’t ask for her permission. They would just take what they wanted. This would be a situation no woman should have to suffer.

  “Don’t let them hurt her.” Her voice had trembled. She’d lowered her gaze, drawn to something on Spike’s neck. As close as he was, with his shirt opened at the collar, she’d been startled to see a swastika tattoo there—just like Trevor’s. Her nostrils flared. She’d looked back up at Spike’s face, her heart nearly exploding in her chest as she realized just how dangerous this man really was.

  She took a step back.

&nb
sp; “Sweetheart, you don’t ever want to meet another man with this symbol on his neck,” Trevor had warned her once, pointing at the tattoo on his own neck. “If you see this on another man, you turn and run the fuck away.”

  Spike had shrugged. “Anything could happen to her, to the both of them, if they don’t cooperate. And you’re going to cooperate with me, aren’t you honey?”

  Rage had boiled up inside of her at the thought of Phoebe and Josie suffering abuse at the hands of these assholes, causing words to fly out of her mouth, unheeded. She should have backed down, tried not to anger this guy more. She knew what he was capable of. But this new Rachel gave back as good as she got. “Just because the world has ended, doesn’t mean the three of you can revert back to the Dark Ages and behave like a bunch of Neanderthals. Like a pack of animals. You know, you can actually choose to act like decent human beings.”

  “And why in the hell would I do that when I can just take what I want? You’re in my bed now. Get used to it, babe.”

  She’d spit in his face. “Fuck off!”

  Spitting in Spike’s face had turned out to be a bad move. Next thing she knew, she’d been dragged off by a very pissed-off Neanderthal. He’d opened the door to the nearest cage and thrown her inside, locking the door tight. “I could take that pussy now, but I don’t need to rape a woman to get what I want. Never have, never will. You’re stayin’ out here in this shit hole ’til you learn some fucking manners, girlie. You get to come inside when you can act like a lady and you’re ready to say yes sir, no sir, and oh yes, Spike, more cock, please.”

  “That’s never going to fucking happen!” she’d screamed through the bars.

  “Then you can fucking rot out here!” Spike had roared and stormed off.

  Hours later, she was still there, wondering where Adam was. Did he miss her? Had he come home yet? Did he know she was gone? Did he even give a shit?

  And the question that tormented her the most—how was she going to bust out of here and rescue Phoebe and Josie?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Adam burned rubber up Highway 180 west to Fresno, scanning for signs of life. He drove like a madman on a mission. They needed to find Rachel and find her fast. The three of them had separated thirty minutes ago—Christian going south through dense farmland to Reedley and Trevor heading north along the foothills. Adam hoped like hell one of them was going the right way.

  He’d quickly left their farm on the edge of the mountains and made his way across Fresno’s freeway system, clogged with abandoned vehicles. West of town, the highway turned into an unobstructed sleepy road. Buildings disappeared and farmland spread out flat and brown in all directions.

  Questions hammered through his mind. A headache began to pound at his temples. Where was Rachel? Was she hurt? Did she hate him after the way he’d acted? He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. If he lost Rachel, if she died, what the fuck would he do?

  Lose his ever lovin’ mind, that’s what he’d do. And the whole goddamn mess would be his own fault.

  He drove for about forty minutes, desperate, his mind obsessing over small details in the landscape, examining for tell-tale signs of life. Then he saw it. Adam punched the brakes. A one-story luxurious, custom-looking house and massive packing shed on his right, surrounded by a sea of grapevines. A delivery truck was parked in the long driveway leading to the shed. But something wasn’t right. The front door to the house was left open, and shit from the back of the truck was strewn across the driveway. It looked like a place with recent activity, not a time capsule covered with dust and vines.

  Adam parked, pulled his weapon and cautiously entered the spacious house. Inside, he found a man gagged with strips of silver duct tape and bound with rope on the floor in the entryway. Body twisting, grunting, hands tied behind his back. Adam shook his head. What a fucking mess. He strode over and ripped off the gag.

  “They’ve got ’em,” he said. “Those fuckers took the girls.”

  “Girls?” Adam’s stomach clenched. He had a feeling things were about to go from bad to worse. “What girls?”

  “Phoebe, they took Phoebe and Josie. And they took Rachel. Untie my hands so we can get the fuck outta here and go find them.”

  “Rachel?” Adam pinned the man with a boot to the chest and leaned in. “I’m not untying your ass until I find out just who you are and why you had Rachel.”

  The jerk pinned him with a familiar intense stare. “I know who you are. You’re the asshole who left me for dead on the freeway in San Diego.”

  “What the fuck?” Adam scanned the guy from head to toe. “Wait, I’ve met you before. Are you that crazy bastard I left behind?”

  Holy hell.

  “Yes. Sebastian…my name is Sebastian, you asshole.”

  “How is this possible?” Adam stood up and mused out loud.

  “You knew I was alive but you left me for dead, and I managed to survive anyway, no thanks to you. That’s how it’s possible.”

  Adam looked back down into the man’s face. Really looked. The scraggly beard was gone, so was the trench coat. But, yeah, there were the eyes. How could he forget those friggin’ eyes? “I remember you,” Adam admitted. “I thought you had the virus and were about to die.”

  “As you can see, I lived. I recovered, got a truck, filled it up with what I could save and got the hell out of L.A. Along the way, I found Phoebe, and Josie too, and brought them with me.”

  “You’ve got two women with you?”

  “One woman and a little girl. Josie’s seven. And they took her too.”

  Adam rubbed at the pounding in his temples. “Stop. This doesn’t make any goddamn sense. What was Rachel doing here with you and who took the females?”

  “I saved Rachel and brought her here.”

  “Saved her?” Adam laughed grimly. “From what?”

  “From you.”

  “Christ, you thought you saved her by bringing her here? From me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Rachel agree with that?” Adam asked.

  “No,” Sebastian muttered.

  “Right. You fucked up.”

  “I watched you, scouted the place out before making first contact I had to make sure you were okay before I brought in Phoebe and Josie, ya know? And I saw you, recognized you from before. And I knew right away you were no good. You were the asshole who’d left me behind. Then I saw the dude with the tattoos, looking straight out of prison…bad news. I saw you had a woman with you and I knew I needed to rescue her. When I came back this morning, I heard the screaming and fighting. I knew I needed to act fast to get her out of there. I knocked her out with some Chloroform and dragged her out to the car.”

  “Jesus Christ, you could have hurt her.”

  “Don’t worry. I knew what I was doing.”

  “She’s pregnant. You goddamn lunatic, you could have hurt her with that drug.”

  “What? She didn’t say…” His eyes were big and his voice drifted off.

  Adam grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shook him, the back of Sebastian’s head making a satisfying thump against the tile floor. “What happened after you took her?”

  “Fuck, stop that. Untie me,” Crazy Bastard shouted, bucking his hips. Adam rode it out, debating whether to punch him.

  “Fuck,” the man underneath him exploded. “Okay. Okay. She said she wanted to go home, that the men she lived with would be worried about her, looking for her.”

  “And why didn’t you bring her home when you realized you were wrong and she wasn’t in any danger?”

  “Phoebe and Josie talked her into staying a little longer. They were having some kind of girl pow-wow. Then a group of three convict biker assholes barged in, shot me in the shoulder, tied me up and gagged me. Then they took our women and the girl.”

  “Okay, so we need to get the he
ll outta here and rescue them. You said there were three of them, maybe more?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know which way they’re going?”

  “I do. The assholes thought they’d knocked me out, but I was awake. Before they left, I overheard them talking. I know exactly where they’re going.”

  Adam’s lips curled as he drew out a knife. “Now I’ll untie you.”

  * * * * *

  “Rachel?” Adam whispered into the darkness.

  “Adam?”

  He’d found her. Relief flooded through him so sharp it left him gasping for air. “Jesus Christ, baby. Are you all right?”

  Each fucking minute he’d spent looking for Rachel had been sheer hell. His need to rip off someone’s head had multiplied exponentially as each moment passed without her in his arms. Two hours. Two hours it had taken to round up Trevor and Christian and make it to this place in the mountains. He was ready to butcher an army. Whoever had taken her would pay.

  Adam made out her form as she scrambled to her feet and threw herself against the bars of her cage. “Adam. Oh my gosh, is that really you?” She reached out her hand, fisted his shirt and yanked him in with surprising strength. His cheek smashed against cold iron. Shit. Her hands were all over him, touching his chest, his arms, his face. “Adam,” she choked out.

  He caressed her hair. “I’m here, Rach. I’m getting you out.”

  “Adam, I’m so sorry, I thought about what happened, replayed it in my head. Honey, I didn’t want you to find out that way.”

  “It’s okay,” he soothed. “I was an asshole. We’ll talk about it when I get you home.”

  “So. You’re coming home?”

  “Of course I’m coming home, and so are you.”

  “Oh, Adam,” she whispered. Then her lips were on his and they were kissing through the bars of the cage. Not a soft kiss, but that hungry kiss she often gave him that he loved. Like she was trying to swallow him whole and couldn’t get enough of him. She took over, and for once, he let her.

 

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