Inked Persuasion: A Montgomery Ink: Fort Collins Novel

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  “Hotch,” I rasped, my throat feeling as if a hot poker had been shoved down it.

  He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Okay, let me get you some water. Don’t know why you had to get so sick. You’re just hurting yourself. But like I said, I will always be here for you. This is what I’ll do for you. Always. Okay, let’s do this.” He left again, and I looked around, trying to figure out where I was, but I hadn’t seen this place before.

  Rugged walls. An old, wooden floor. It looked to be a small cabin in the woods or something. Not up to the mountains or the foothills, but near the city, maybe? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know who was supposed to find me. I’d dropped my bag when I fell, and I didn’t have my cell phone. I didn’t have anything.

  That meant I had to get out of this on my own. I needed to be my own knight in shining armor or whatever the hell those people were called.

  I didn’t know how I was supposed to do it, though.

  I tried to wiggle out of my restraints, but they were tight. I thought it might be duct tape, but it was hard to move my head to check. I’d remembered seeing something on the internet. If I went down quickly with my hands spread as much as possible, I could maybe break through. But my hands were tied behind my back, so that meant I’d have to wiggle out, and I didn’t think I was that flexible right now, not when every movement made me want to throw up.

  That meant I had to get him to undo my restraints. Somehow.

  “Here you go, come on, let me help you sit up.”

  I let him put his hands on me, let him help me to a seated position because doing it by myself had made me nearly vomit again. But every touch was revolting, and I knew I would never be able to shower enough to get rid of this feeling.

  I didn’t want to imagine what might come next, what he wanted to do, so I pushed those thoughts from my head. The only things that mattered right now were getting out of here and protecting myself because nobody else would.

  Hotch touched my face, gripped my chin a little too hard, and then put the glass of water to my mouth. I didn’t know if it was poisoned, and at that thought, my eyes widened, and I pressed my lips together. He let out a long-suffering sigh, took the glass to his lips, and gulped some.

  “It’s not poisoned, Annabelle. I would never hurt you. Susan’s the one who hurt you. Damn it. You’re mine. We were always meant to be together. I don’t know why you don’t trust me.” He shoved the glass to my lips again, and it clacked against my tooth. I gagged, and he poured water down my throat. I tried my best to swallow, but I choked, spluttering, spraying water in his face.

  He cursed, tossed the glass to the side, and it shattered all around us.

  A large shard fell behind me, and I did my best not to look at it so he wouldn’t see where it had gone or that I’d noticed it was so close to me. Maybe that’s what I would use to get out of the restraints. If I could figure it out. But I would, because I didn’t know any other way to do this.

  “See what you made me do? You’re just so frustrating. You never did understand that I was supposed to be the person for you.”

  I swallowed hard, grateful I’d had some water, but I didn’t want him to know how grateful I was. What else would I have to do for basic comforts? No, I wasn’t going to think about that because I would get out of here before then.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t see you the way I was supposed to,” I said, trying to think of the best ways to speak.

  “You never did. I always thought you did, but you just liked teasing. Or maybe you were just too confused. We were getting somewhere. You were always kind to me; you were always mine. And then he showed up.” Hotch glowered and sat back on his haunches.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Well, you will be,” he warned, and ice slid through me to my soul.

  “I hate him. But don’t worry, once I figure things out, I’ll take care of him, too. But for now, you and I will make sure we have exactly what we want. What we always should have had.”

  My fingers reached for the glass. I missed the first time, but I kept my attention on Hotch. “You were always good about bringing me baked goods, making sure I had everything I needed.”

  “Of course. I love you, Annabelle. I’m glad you noticed that I did things for you. Because it was always for you. All of this is for you.”

  I nodded, my fingers brushing the glass again. I felt a slice against my flesh, and I pressed my lips together tightly, holding back a scream. Blood welled, I could feel it sticking to my fingers, but I reached the glass again, this time gripping it as gently as I could. I did my best to work on the bindings as he spoke, as he told me every single little thing he had done for me. The treats, making sure I was always home on time. Because he watched me, he’d always watched me.

  “When I built that gazebo out back? I could see right into your bedroom. Sometimes, you even left the windows open so I could see easier. You were so kind to do that. I love to watch you sleep. Though sometimes you had bad dreams. I wanted so badly to go in and protect you, but I knew I couldn’t. Not yet. But now, anytime you have a bad dream, I’ll be there for you. Always.”

  A shudder of disgust washed over me, but I ignored it. I kept cutting. Blood welled, and I knew I was cutting myself over and over again, but I could feel the bindings moving.

  I wasn’t sure how I would get my feet undone without him knowing, but maybe I could push him or cut him a bit. I didn’t know if I had the stomach for that, but I had to figure something out. I couldn’t sit here and listen to him talk any longer. Because he would run out of words to say eventually, and I didn’t know what came next.

  “I’m glad you were always there for me in case something happened.”

  “Of course, you are. Because we always wanted to be together. And you and I will be together forever. I’ll make sure of it.” He gave me a soft smile, and I almost cried, not knowing what he meant.

  And yet, I was afraid I knew exactly what he meant.

  “Okay, I’m going to go cook some soup for us. This is a cabin that my dad’s friend owns. At least, one of them. They’ll never think to look for us here. We’ll have all the time in the world. But I can make some soup. Like I make so many things for you.”

  He leaned forward, brushed his thumb across my lips just like Jacob did, and I knew it was on purpose. I knew he had seen Jacob do that before, and I almost cried. And then Hotch leaned forward and kissed me hard on the mouth, nearly bruising me before he pulled away.

  “I love you, Annabelle.”

  He didn’t wait for me to say anything back. Instead, he left, presumably to the kitchen, and I let the tears fall. I tugged at my restraints, blood making the glass slippery, but then I was finally able to cut through the duct tape on my arms. I nearly cried out in relief. My hands were shaky, everything hurt, and I moved around to start on the bindings on my feet when I heard a noise out front.

  “I wonder what that is?” Hotch said as he walked in.

  I cut the last strip on my legs and rolled to my feet, ignoring the nausea, just as Hotch walked in.

  “What the hell are you doing to yourself? Now I’m getting angry.” Hotch came forward and picked up the gun on the nightstand I hadn’t realized was there.

  I shook, the shard of glass still in my hands.

  “You couldn’t just leave it be. No, you always had to be a lying bitch. You were meant for me, Annabelle, and now look at you, bleeding like a whore on the floor. Well, I’m going to teach you exactly who’s mine. Because you are mine, Annabelle. You always will be. I’m going to show you how much.” He lunged forward, and I lashed out, slicing his arm. He let out a shocked gasp and put his hand over the bleeding cut. The gun was raised to the ceiling, and I tried to crawl, but then he screamed again and pointed the handgun directly at me. I froze, and bile filled my throat again.

  “I don’t want to do this, but I will. Because there are other ways for us to be together forever. You should know that, Annabelle. Y
ou’re meant for me.”

  And then the door slammed open, and I fell to the floor as Hotch whirled. Jacob came barreling through the door but froze when he saw the gun in Hotch’s hands. Hotch reached down before I could do anything and gripped me by the hair, putting the gun to my temple. I froze, and so did Jacob.

  “Did you tell him you were here? You whore. Of course, you did. You always opened your legs for him. You’ve ruined her, Jacob. You’ve ruined my Annabelle.”

  Jacob looked at me, his eyes wide, his jaw tense. “I was only checking to see how you two were,” Jacob said. “I can see she’s in good hands.”

  I wanted to cry in relief. I wanted to cry and rage. I didn’t know what to do.

  I just knelt there and looked at Jacob, wondering what would happen when the gun went off. Because Jacob would see this, and I would be gone. But Jacob would live forever knowing that he had walked in and the gun had gone off.

  It had been Hotch, all along. But I knew Jacob would blame himself. But this wasn’t his fault. It was Hotch’s.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Jacob’s here so I could tell him it’s over,” I said. “Really, Hotch. It’s over between Jacob and me. You don’t have to hurt him.”

  “Lies,” Hotch spat.

  Jacob held up his hands, nodding. He risked a small glance at me, and I saw the pain there, the worry, the...everything. My heart ached, but I could barely breathe. “No, I understand. It’s over. She’s yours, Hotch. You don’t have to hurt her.”

  Hotch sneered and then moved the gun, facing Jacob rather than me. I nearly cried out.

  “Well, if I don’t have to hurt her, then maybe I should hurt you.”

  I looked up at Jacob, at the glass in my hands, and knew what I needed to do. I mouthed, I love you, and then I moved. I slammed the glass into Hotch’s thigh. Hotch screamed as I pushed him away. Jacob moved then and reached for the gun in Hotch’s hand as I pushed Hotch down, Jacob coming at us. Hotch moved to shoot at me, but Jacob was quicker, but let out a sharp gasp as the gun went off.

  I screamed, shoved Hotch down, and crawled to Jacob as Hotch started to cry, clutching his leg. Blood pumped from the wound, and I was afraid that I’d hit an artery. I couldn’t care right then, though. The gun was in the corner, well away from Hotch now, but Jacob was on the floor, and I could barely focus, my vision going fuzzy around the edges. Jacob held his hip, blood seeping between his fingers. I looked down at him, tears falling.

  “No,” I whispered. “No.”

  And then there were sirens, and people shouting, feet slamming onto wood. Somehow, Beckett was there, too, pulling me away as the paramedics came for Jacob. I just whispered, “I love you,” but I didn’t think he heard.

  I couldn’t focus. I fell into my brother’s arms, wondering how he could possibly be there.

  “Save him,” I whispered. “I love him.”

  Beckett held me close as the paramedics came. “We will, baby girl. We will.”

  And then I closed my eyes, and I prayed.

  Chapter 22

  Jacob

  * * *

  I felt like I had been run over by a truck. In reality, that had been Annabelle the week prior. I was home now, and I hadn’t seen her since.

  I’d wanted to, but between the police questioning, surgery to get the bullet wound on my hip fixed, and Annabelle needing time alone with her family, I hadn’t seen the person I needed to see.

  But at least I was home.

  Maybe not at the home I currently resided in, but the place my parents lived.

  “You know, you could head back to your place. Probably tomorrow if you want,” my dad said casually as he came forward with a bowl of soup in his hands.

  I looked down at the soup and licked my lips. “I don’t know. If you’re going to cook for me, maybe I should stay.”

  Dad rolled his eyes, even as tears welled up. I cleared my throat and patted the couch next to me.

  “You know, I offered to get up and cook myself,” I said.

  “And I said if you stepped foot in that kitchen and put any weight on your hip or leg, I’d beat you. So, here we are.”

  “You two are so sweet to each other,” Mom said from beside me, and I just looked over at her and smiled.

  We were having lunch as a family, albeit not the same as it had once been. My parents had sounded so scared when they heard about the shooting. They’d made their way to the hospital despite my protests, but they had been there. Sat with the Montgomerys as they waited to hear about Annabelle’s concussion and the cuts on her hands and arms that she needed stitches for. I hadn’t seen her. It seemed everybody else in the world had seen Annabelle, but I hadn’t.

  I was trying not to be bitter about that.

  “The soup tastes great,” I said after a moment and looked up at my parents.

  My mom was crying again, and I set down the bowl on the tray in front of me so I could reach over and hold her hand. I ignored the twinge in my side as I moved, and my mom quit crying immediately to scowl at me.

  “Don’t you dare hurt yourself trying to comfort me.”

  I smiled softly, even as my dad pulled me away so I could straighten. “I’m going to do everything I can to comfort you and to take care of you. Both of you. Just sidelined for a minute right now. I’ll be fine.”

  “You scared us,” Mom said, tears falling again. “I can’t lose another son. Do you understand that, Jacob? I can’t lose anyone else.”

  This time, tears pricked the backs of my eyes, and my dad gripped my shoulder, squeezing tightly.

  “We can’t lose you, Jacob. You’re our son,” Dad whispered. “We love you. We’re not ready to lose you.”

  “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “But we almost lost you,” Mom said.

  “I couldn’t let Annabelle get hurt,” I said simply, although nothing about this was simple.

  Tears fell harder, and my mom nodded as my dad stood up to help her wipe her face when she couldn’t.

  “And we’re so grateful you did. Because she’s our daughter. We love her so much.”

  I let out a breath, “I love her, too,” I whispered.

  “We know,” my mom said as Dad gripped her hand softly.

  “We know.”

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen. We didn’t end things on good terms before Hotch took her.”

  “This will probably change things,” Mom said softly. “Hopefully, for the better. Because you two would be so good for each other.”

  “Even though she was Jonah’s first?” I asked, not sure what I wanted her to say.

  “She was Jonah’s friend, confidante, and helper. But she’s your fate. I believe that,” my mom said, her voice steady.

  I looked at my hands, the soup now cold. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I’m going to fix it. Somehow.”

  “Of course, you are,” Mom said before Dad and her met gaze.

  “I hear Susan took a plea deal,” my dad said carefully, and I closed my eyes and groaned.

  “Yes, and I’m glad that it’s not going to be any worse for her than it needs to be. Though I’m not sure what I’m supposed to think. My ex…I loved her. I would never have guessed that she could do something like this. What kind of man does that make me?”

  “You do not get to put her decisions on your shoulders,” Dad warned. “She made her choices, even while you were married. And that’s why you two are no longer together. The fact that she went after our Annabelle, well, I don’t even want to think about it. But, she did it, and now she’s paying the price.”

  “And that asshole neighbor of yours is paying a steeper one.”

  Hotch had survived the nick to his artery, though barely. And he had a long road to recovery. And an even longer trial. I had already gotten word that his lawyers were attempting an insanity plea, but I was a damned good lawyer. I might not be part of the trial, but I knew the system. And the Montgomerys had a lot of connections ar
ound the state. I didn’t think Hotch would get what he wanted. After all, he hadn’t yet.

  I would never forgive myself for not seeing it sooner. But none of us had. None of us had known.

  And if I were ever alone with Hotch again, it’s likely he wouldn’t survive the meeting.

  “You’re getting all growly again. Let’s not think about Hotch,” Mom said quickly. “Is your office doing okay without you?”

  “You know I’m still working here,” I said dryly.

  “Yes, we know, even though you’re supposed to be taking it easy,” Dad chided.

  “Maybe,” I said, shrugging, ignoring the twinge I felt again. “I’m not working too hard. Both of my staff members who were on maternity leave are back, and we’re making do. I can’t go to court, but we can get everything else done from where we’re at. And the cases that needed to go to court right away are with another lawyer I trust here. Actually, I think we could probably work together well in the future.”

  “A partner?” Dad asked.

  I shook my head. “No, but at least a confidant. It’d be good to have someone when things get too tough—someone who understands. But I’m not ready yet to make any decisions. I’m just glad that I’m here to make them later.”

  Mom started crying again. “So are we.”

  The doorbell rang, and I looked up, frowning. “Did you order something for delivery?” I asked.

  “No, but it could be anyone,” my dad said as he got up from the chair next to Mom and headed to the door.

  “I love you,” Mom whispered. I looked over at her again and reached out to grip her hand. “I love you, too.”

  “Now sit straight before your dad gets angry,” Mom said, and we both laughed. And that was the image that Annabelle must have seen when she walked in, her face pale but looking so much stronger than she had the last time I’d seen her, passed out next to me as the paramedics worked on both of us.