Rules of Protection (Tangled in Texas) (Volume 1)

by Alison Bliss

  I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep, slow breath, but didn’t answer him. Preoccupied by his lips on my neck, I wasn’t sure what to say. “I can’t think…”

  “If you say now, I’ll stop,” he breathed into my ear. “If you say later… Well, things are going to get much worse before they get better.” I could hear the suggestive smirk in his voice.

  Whether Jake loved me or not became a moot point. He wanted me, even if it was only for pleasure. We were two hamsters stuck in a cage together, running on a wheel nowhere fast. Although the outcome of the evening would only cause me pain, I didn’t care. I wanted him, even if he didn’t want me the same way.

  He nibbled lightly on the side of my neck, waiting for an answer, but I couldn’t speak. All I could do was bend my neck back, giving him further access to my throat—the only answer he needed.

  “Later it is,” he said, allowing his towel to fall at our feet.

  I turned to face him, devouring him with my eyes. My fingers splayed across his chest, feeling the firm pectoral muscles stacked on top of the bulging six-pack he proudly displayed. He was excited and eager—obvious from the moment he dropped the towel—but his touch was surprisingly tender.

  He framed my face with his large, callused hands, and his mouth moved over mine. I gripped his wrists, while his tongue slowly probed deep inside, seeking my response. A low moan escaped our tightly locked lips. I wasn’t sure if it was his or mine. He pulled back slightly, running his tongue over my bottom lip and sucking gently before releasing it.

  This was unlike the other times when he’d let passion consume him, practically ripping the clothes from my body. Most women want a man to take his time, gentling her, preparing her body for his lovemaking. But, to me, it felt like Jake held back.

  As he maneuvered me to the bed, we heard a truck speeding down the driveway. Jake turned back to the window and peeked out the curtain.

  “It’s Cowboy,” he said, looking concerned. “Something’s wrong. He never hauls ass up the drive.” Jake reached for the towel, wrapping it around his waist.

  “You’re going to have to do better than that,” I said, stifling a surge of laughter. “You look like you’re ready for a fencing match, and I doubt he’s armed.”

  Jake looked down and gave me an impatient sigh. “Knowing Cowboy, I’d say he’s always armed. Thankfully, he’s not interested in a sword fight.” Jake threw the towel on the floor and pulled on a pair of jeans that rested low on his hips. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, stepping out.

  When I licked my lips, I could taste Jake. It was the taste of a confident, sensual lover, who would’ve delivered the performance of his life in bed. Had Cowboy showed up ten minutes later, I would’ve been writhing under Jake’s hard frame, smothering in his masculinity. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I blew out a breath, calming my desire for intimacy to a more manageable level.

  A few more minutes went by, but Jake hadn’t returned. I peeked out the window to see him and Cowboy in deep conversation with Hank and Floss under the security lights in the driveway. Jake was upset, staring at the ground with his hands tightly clenched into fists. I went outside to join them. Everyone quieted as I walked up, and no one would look me in the eyes.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. Nobody answered. “Jake…tell me.”

  “A man in town is asking questions about you,” he said, as the vein on his temple bulged outward.

  My stomach felt squeamish. “Who is he?”

  Cowboy spoke up. “No one knows. He’s not from around here. That’s why I came to warn Jake.”

  “But how could anyone know where to look for me?”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said, looking puzzled. “No one should’ve known where to find us. I haven’t even spoken to Director Brockway, in case they tried to put out a trace.”

  “Why would anybody trace the…call?” Dim recollections of the drunken memories I suppressed came rushing back.

  I stumbled back, my belly tightening with spasms. Jake and Cowboy both reached for me. Hank pulled down the tailgate on his truck and the boys lifted me, setting me on it. Jake pushed my hair back to look at my face while Cowboy gripped my arms, keeping me upright.

  “You look like you’re about to pass out,” Jake said with a strained voice. “Take slow, deep breaths.”

  “I’ll grab a cold washcloth for her,” Floss said, already on her way inside.

  “It’s probably stress,” Hank noted calmly.

  In my daze, I could hear their voices, but did my best to tune them out of my head. More pressing issues had arisen, like figuring out how to tell Jake what I’d done and willing myself not to puke. I could almost hear him screaming at me already. Damn.

  Then again, he didn’t yell at me for getting lost in the woods. Surely, that was worse than making one lousy phone call. I snapped back to reality, trying to gather my composure. Everyone stared at me with blank looks.

  “What’s that about?” Jake asked me.

  “Huh?”

  “You said karma is biting you in the ass. What’d you mean?”

  “Jake, I…I meant to tell you—”

  “What did you do?” he asked suspiciously. He was like a powder keg filled with explosives, and I was the idiot who’d lit the fuse.

  I gulped a deep breath, heated guilt burning inside me. “I called Gina from Floss’s cell phone the night we came back from the bar.”

  A moment of silence passed while Jake tried to contain himself and the other men said a small prayer for me.

  “Jesus Christ, Emily! What the hell were you thinking?” Jake yelled, pacing angrily back and forth. “I’m trying to keep your ass alive and you’re…chatting on the phone with your girlfriend?”

  “Calm down, Jake,” Hank said, walking off toward the house. “Let me grab my pistol. We’ll go into town and check it out. It may be nothing.”

  “I’ll grab my gun out of the truck,” Cowboy said, walking away from us to give us some privacy.

  God, I felt stupid. “I’m sorry. It was a mistake.”

  “Yeah, you make a lot of those,” Jake said with his teeth clenched, his eyes flashing with heat. He kicked the truck’s fender a couple of times to let off some steam. It didn’t help. “For God’s sake, were you trying to get us all killed?”

  Lowering my head, I whispered, “No, of course not. I wasn’t thinking—”

  “That’s your damn problem! You don’t think! I can’t compensate for your stupidity.”

  “Jake!” Cowboy said, walking back over. “That’s enough.”

  “She hasn’t begun to have enough,” Jake said, frustrated with Cowboy’s interference. “She needs to learn there are consequences for her actions.”

  I hated listening to them talk about me as if I weren’t there, but I knew if I opened my mouth, the sobs would erupt from my throat. I swallowed them, pushing them down as far as I could, but couldn’t stop the moisture leaking from my eyes.

  Cowboy watched me wipe my eyes and he patted my hand. “She knows, Jake. You can get off her ass now.”

  Jake let out a disgusted laugh. “We were sitting ducks for the past few days. She didn’t even bother to warn us.” He walked closer, glaring, as angry words of accusation poured from his mouth. “Emily, you better hope this turns out to be nothing because if anybody gets hurt, it’s going to be all on you.”

  “I said that’s enough,” Cowboy yelled, shoving Jake away. “You’re my boy and all, but if you say another word to her…”

  “Damn it, you two, knock it off!” Hank came up behind Jake and put his hand on his shoulder, giving it a hard squeeze. “Son, you have no business talking to a woman like that. Now, go put on some clothes, get your gun, and get your ass in the truck. You’re wasting time with this nonsense.”

  Jake stormed off without another word. I couldn’t hold back the sobbing any longer. Cowboy put his arm around me and held me against his chest.

  “It’s okay, honey,” Hank said softly. “Jake’s j
ust scared, and he’s taking it out on you.”

  “Well, he crossed the line,” Cowboy said angrily.

  Hank nodded in agreement. “Someone has to stay here to protect the women. You want to volunteer?”

  Cowboy smoothed his hand over my hair, brushing it from my wet cheeks. “Reckon I already have.”

  Hank opened the door to his truck and stepped in. “Take her into the main house and stay inside. We’ll be back soon.”

  Cowboy walked me upstairs and opened the door to the house as Jake came out of the cottage. I watched him adjust his shoulder holster before getting into Hank’s truck, but he didn’t look at me. Then they drove away.

  After ten minutes, my guilt and shame were replaced with an intense feeling of dread. Floss made us sit at the table and served us dinner. I pushed the stew around in my bowl and barely picked at the cornbread. Cowboy had no problem eating his, though.

  An hour passed. Fret lines on my forehead deepened. Where were they? Surely, they had found out something by now. In the bathroom, I’d just recovered from another bout of mental anguish and was washing my face.

  That’s when the lights went off.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  I couldn’t see my face in the mirror, but I imagined it looked twisted with fright. My heart banged against the walls of my chest as if it would burst any moment.

  “Emily,” Cowboy whispered, “open the door.”

  I groped for the doorknob in the darkness and unlocked it, shoving it open. Cowboy grabbed my arm and yanked me into the hall. My eyes adjusted to the moonlit room as he shoved a handgun into my palm.

  “It’s loaded. I hope you remember how to use it,” he said, shoving his own handgun into his waistband.

  “What the hell’s going on?” I said, keeping my voice low like he did, though I didn’t know why. “What happened to the lights?”

  “Someone killed the power and phone lines from outside.”

  “And I left my darn cell phone in Hank’s truck again,” Floss added, standing next to Cowboy with a shotgun in her hands that was as big as her.

  The blood drained from my face, and my body trembled. Another surge of fear ran through me. If anything happened to either of them, Jake would never forgive me. Hell, I’d never forgive myself.

  “W-who’s out there?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Cowboy said. “I saw at least two men, but there might be more. We need to get out of here.”

  “Aren’t we safer staying here?”

  “Not if they set the house on fire, we aren’t,” Cowboy said, glancing at me to judge my reaction. “If they’re trying to kill you, it’d be the easiest way. We’d be safer in the woods. But I’m sure they’re watching the doors, and we’re too high off the ground to go out any other way.”

  “Not necessarily,” Floss said, making her way to her bedroom.

  We followed her into the dark walk-in closet, where she clicked on one of those stick-it-anywhere dome lights, powered by batteries. We watched as she moved a large tote and threw some shoes out of the way. I wasn’t sure what she was doing until she pulled back the carpet underneath, revealing a trap door in the floor.

  “Hank put this in here when we moved in. He didn’t like the idea of being caught unprepared in an emergency,” she said, grinning.

  With his gun readied, Cowboy pulled the door open with a good hard tug. A narrow wooden ladder led into a dark area somewhere under the house. He leaned down, gun in hand, and peered inside the hole. Everything must’ve checked out because he shoved his gun in his waistband and began climbing down.

  “Once I’m on the ground, toss me the shotgun,” he muttered to Floss. “Then you two come down one at a time as fast as you can.”

  He ducked into the hole, practically sliding the rest of the way down the ladder and landing in a crouch on the ground. Cowboy peered around again to make sure he was alone. I doubted he saw much more than I could, which was nothing. He motioned, and I carefully dropped the shotgun to him. Then he waved for us to follow.

  I made Floss go first and helped her into the hole. She climbed down slowly, taking one small step at a time until she stood safely on the ground beside Cowboy. Not wasting any time, I stuck the handgun Cowboy gave me in my waistband. The cold metal irritated my skin as I descended the creaky ladder.

  It was uncomfortably dark, with a small amount of moonlight seeping through the slats of a gate leading to the outside. With guns drawn, we maneuvered toward it silently.

  Cowboy checked to make sure we were clear. “Okay, we need to stay on the edge of the woods. Work our way to the back of the property as quietly as possible. Once we get on the trail, the footing will be easier,” he promised. “Stay low, but keep moving.”

  At his signal, we made a run for the woods with Cowboy ushering us through the darkness. We weren’t sure where the two men Cowboy had seen were, and we weren’t waiting to find out.

  We stumbled along the edge of the property toward the back fence, staying low to conceal our movements, guided by what little moonlight passed through the thick canopy of trees. The terrain was rough and uneven, which made running more difficult, but we went as fast as we could.

  About halfway there, Floss stepped into a hole and fell to the ground, one leg sprawled behind her and the other bent under her in an agonizing shape. She cried out, but then stifled it immediately. It was the first time I’d ever heard a filthy word pass her lips. Her eyes watered as her hands shakily gripped her hurt ankle.

  Cowboy tried to lift her, but any small manipulation of her ankle had Floss wailing in pain. It was the equivalent of us wearing flashing, neon signs that had “Yoo-hoo, over here!” written on them.

  A man’s voice yelled out, “They’re not in the house! Search the property!”

  “Darn thing’s snapped like a twig,” Floss said, her voice trembling with pain. “I’ll just slow you down. You two go on without me.”

  “We’re not leaving you here. Tell her, Cowboy.” When he didn’t say anything, I realized he didn’t agree. We traded a quick glance. “You aren’t serious,” I said, the shock apparent in my voice. “She can’t stay out here alone.”

  “She won’t be alone,” he said, propping Floss against the nearest tree and handing her the shotgun. “Shoot anybody who comes within a hundred yards,” he said, making my eyes widen.

  Floss grinned through the pained expression on her face. “You didn’t think the shotgun was for looks, did you?”

  Cowboy’s gaze caught mine again, and my eyes pleaded with him. “Oh, come on. Stop looking at me like that. It’s not like I want to leave her. Floss has a bad break. I won’t be able to carry her without hurting her. I’m going to get you to safety, then come back for her.”

  “You two quit fussing over me and get a move on,” Floss ordered, grimacing. “I’ll be fine.”

  Cowboy grabbed my gun and placed it in Floss’s lap. She started to protest. “We still have my gun,” he told her. “Reloading the shotgun takes too much time, and this will give you more ammunition until I come back. I’ll sound a bird call before approaching.”

  “You better, or I’m liable to blow a hole clear through you,” Floss said, her voice wavering. She gritted her teeth together. “Now, you two get out of here before I decide to tan your hides for not minding your elder.”

  I hugged her quickly before Cowboy grasped my arm and sprinted off in near darkness, towing me behind him. If walking through the woods barefoot during the day was dangerous, then running through them at night—even with shoes—was damn near suicidal. I couldn’t see the ground. And the risk of falling only worsened by the numerous branches and vines grabbing at me.

  Once I caught a bitter whiff of thick black mud and the pungent scent of algae, I knew we were close to the pond. We traveled along the tall weeds at the water’s edge, then ducked behind a cypress tree. Cowboy scoped out the moonlit clearing where I had fallen into the water once before. We had to cross it if we wanted to get to the fence line
, but he had reservations.

  “Stay here,” Cowboy said.

  He sprinted across the opening, but didn’t get ten feet when the sound of a gunshot rang out. His body crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

  “NO!” Not thinking, I ran toward him, but stopped dead in my tracks as a man came out from behind a tree.

  As he got closer, the moon lit up his face more clearly, and I recognized him from the club and the photos Jake had shown me at the police station. It was Frankie Felts’s cousin, Arnold. He held a dark, sinister-looking gun on me that matched the grin on his face.

  “My cousin has been looking for you.” Arnold grabbed me roughly by the back of my hair. “It’s time for you to—”

  We heard the growl at the same time.

  A flash of white leaped through the air and latched onto his arm, snarling and biting. Thrown to the ground at the bank, I scrambled to my feet as Arnold got a shot off. The bullet hit Dog in his side and knocked him to the ground. He tried unsuccessfully to get up again. Arnold was poised over him with his shooting arm torn up, dripping blood, as he readied himself to shoot Dog again.

  I screamed incoherently and barreled into Arnold from behind, knocking him into the pond with a large splash. He surfaced, his gun no longer in his hand. Pissed, he swore at me, threatening me with all the different ways he’d kill me when he found a way out of the water.

  I ran straight to Cowboy, who wasn’t moving, and kneeled beside him. He was lying on his side, something dark and wet dripping from his hair onto the dried, cracked mud. He had taken a bullet in the head. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed uncontrollably.

  Then something touched my arm. Stunned, I instinctively flailed to protect myself and hit something solid.

  “Ow,” Cowboy said softly, followed by a groan.

  I covered my mouth. “Y-you’re alive?”

  “You prefer something different?” He touched the side of his head and winced. “Jake would kill me if I died while babysitting you.” He groaned and tried to get up.

  I pushed him back gently, which didn’t take much effort in his weakened state. “Don’t get up, idiot. You’ve been shot in the head.”