by Cate Beauman
Sarah rushed to the bathroom, looked at herself. Panicked, she held her breath and sucked in yet again. The zipper soared up, but stopped at her heavy breasts. Yank after yank proved useless. Her stomach stuck out like a beacon, announcing her pregnancy.
Matthew knocked on the door and she braced herself. She glanced down at the counter, searching for any weapon she could find. There was nothing. Opening a drawer, she found a pair of cuticle scissors and a file with a sharp point. “Um, just give me one more second please.” Where would she put them? She looked in the mirror and inspiration struck. She pulled her hair from the twist, refastened it, replacing one of the chopsticks she’d used with the file. She pushed the metal piece deep into her mass of hair until only the small handle showed. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice the difference.
“Your time’s up, Sarah. I’m coming in.”
She turned from the bathroom and walked into the bedroom as the door opened. Matthew’s smile faded quickly as his gaze traveled down her body. He stopped on her stomach and rushed forward. “You fucking whore.”
He grabbed her and she lost her balance as he threw her to the bed. He straddled her and she could do little but try to protect her face as his fist rammed forward.
“You slutty little cunt!” Matthew connected with her other cheek and she saw stars.
He yanked at her arms, shaking her until her vision blurred. “You let him fuck you. Now you’re full with his bastard.” He slapped her again, and her lip puffed immediately. “Maybe I’ll take my turn now too.” He jumped from the bed, pulled up her full skirt. “You’ve ruined it all. You’ve ruined everything.” He paced away from her, grabbed the vase, threw it. Glass, water, and blue blooms fell to the floor with a loud crash.
Sarah didn’t dare move as she sobbed quietly. The skirt of her dress lay pooled against her upper thighs. He swore at her while he trashed the room, but he wasn’t raping her. He yanked her up by the hand and blood dribbled warm against her chin from her lip. “We’re going to have our date, Sarah. Then I’ll fuck you until I get sick of it. After that, I’m going to kill you. I’m going to strangle the life from you and get a bonus when I kill the bastard’s kid. It’s a two-for-one deal.”
She struggled to keep her footing as Matthew yanked her down the stairs. He pulled her forward until they stopped in the dining room, glowing with candlelight, decorated with masses of blue roses. The elegant space would have been beautiful if it hadn’t been for the crazy man standing next to her. The table, set for two, with fine china and silver, somehow didn’t seem real. How could a man so full of violence and hatred create something like this? Violin music played quietly in the background, making her want to weep.
Sarah’s gaze settled on the window open to the cool breeze. The familiar smell of the ocean scented the air, along with the perfume of hundreds of blooms. She wanted nothing more than to dive through the screen, to run and scream until someone came to help her.
“Take your seat.” Matthew shoved her into her chair.
Her knee cracked against the walnut table leg. She closed her eyes against the pain, refusing to cry in front of him again. Most of her body ached; her head throbbed. All that mattered was keeping her baby safe.
He smiled at her pleasantly. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, dinner. Let me get our first course and we can begin.”
Ethan pulled up to the curb, three houses down from Ezekiel’s. The sun sunk low, reflecting against the windows of the homes up and down the street. The neighborhood was quiet except for the children laughing and playing, riding their bikes along the sidewalks, passing him by. What would their parents think when they found out they lived next to a monster?
His phone rang again and he hoped, as he had each time, that it would be Sarah calling to tell him she was okay, but the readout showed him it wasn’t and he ignored it. He did an initial scan of the house through the windshield while he waited for Austin and Hunter. Lights were ablaze throughout the first and second story. He had to fight the urge to knock down the door and get Sarah.
This was too important to rush. They would take every possible precaution. Her life was on the line, if the fucker hadn’t killed her already.
Ethan closed his eyes, shook his head. Sarah was alive. She had to be.
Battling through rage, Ethan glanced down when the phone rang again. He was tempted to let it ring. He didn’t have much to say to Detective Campbell at this point. He already knew how this conversation would go.
Hunter and Austin pulled up on the other side of the street, farther down from the house they would all be watching. Ethan threw them a stop signal with his hand and held up his phone. They both nodded.
“Detective Campbell, what can I do for you?”
“Have you found Sarah yet?”
“No, but I know where she is.”
“We do too. We just left Lisa Turnington’s hospital room. She’s been in and out of consciousness with a pretty serious head wound. Apparently Matthew Denmire hit her with a large crystal vase several hours ago at some flower warehouse. The last time she saw Sarah was at the warehouse.”
“This is all fascinating, but how the hell is that going to get her back?”
“We’re on our way with a team to his house.”
“I’m already here with Hunter and Austin.”
“Don’t get stupid, Ethan, wait for us.”
“No, I’ve waited long enough. I’m not going to let you bring some negotiator on scene so they can try to bargain with Sarah’s life. He’ll kill her and we both know it.”
He hung up and drove forward, stopping in front of Austin’s vehicle. They had less time than he wanted with the cops on the way.
Ethan stepped from the Rover, careful not to slam his door. Austin and Hunter did the same.
“We have to move. I just got off the phone with Tucker. They’re on their way, but we’re not waiting.”
“No, we’re not,” Hunter said. “Here’s my thought. You can tell me if you agree.”
He was surrounded by the best: Hunter, a former Recon Marine; Austin, a former Navy SEAL. This was their area of expertise—reconnaissance and rescue. He would do whatever they told him to.
“We’ll do a very quick up-close-and-personal and locate Sarah’s exact whereabouts within the house. Once we know, we’ll go from there.”
Austin handed out earpieces as Hunter continued.
“Austin, I want you to go in around back. It looks like the bastard has several windows open. Ethan, you go in around the side. I’ll gain access through the second story.”
Ethan took over. “We’ll use two taps against our microphones when we’re all in place. If you’ve got a shot on him, three taps and take it. Otherwise, surround and we’ll go from there. If possible, two man-tackle with the other pulling the principal from scene. Be careful with her. I don’t want the baby hurt.”
“We’ll get her, boss.”
He had to believe they would.
CHAPTER 30
MATTHEW SET A DELICATE CUP of steaming lobster bisque in front of her. The longer it took her to eat, the longer she knew she would live. Sarah smiled as Matthew took his seat. “This looks lovely, Matthew, and smells wonderful.”
He brightened. “I made it from scratch. I scoured the internet for just the right recipe.”
Sarah lifted her spoon, gestured toward her dish. “May I?”
“Please.”
She dipped the silverware into the cup, brought it to her lips. The heat against her wound stung, but she didn’t dare flinch. She sampled the cream-based broth, a little heavy on the salt, and smiled again. “Very nice. It’s delicious.”
Preening, he tasted himself. “I watched you eat it at the party Master Cooke’s parents had.”
The spoon paused halfway to her mouth before she brought it to her lips again. He’d been in the Cooke’s home. Of course he had; she remembered feeling as if someone watched her all night. “Were you a guest? You should’ve introduced yourself.”
&
nbsp; “I wasn’t important enough to receive an invite. You have to gross over five million to make those parties.” He looked at her, temper brewing. “Or be fucking their son. That’ll get you in the door too.”
She didn’t want him to hit her again. Desperate to change the subject, Sarah zeroed in on the dishes. “Where did you buy your china? The pattern has a bit of a European flair.”
He stared at her for several seconds as she gripped her hand against the napkin resting on her lap, bracing herself for another blow.
“I ordered them while I was over in England two years ago.”
She relaxed when he began to eat. “Do you travel to Europe often?”
“When it suits me. My business has become very successful, so I don’t have a lot of time for traveling anymore.”
Sarah glanced toward the window as a vehicle drove by. The dark gray of what she swore was a Range Rover caused her to look again, but it was gone. Maybe it was Ethan, or maybe she was desperate to believe he had come for her.
Would she ever see him again? Would she ever snuggle with Kylee and read until she fell asleep? Her eyes watered and tears threatened. Fighting to hold them back, she took another bite of bisque. Matthew seemed calmer. She wanted to keep him that way. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to save a little of this to enjoy with my salad. We are having salad, right?”
“Yes. A house salad with a warm honey mustard drizzle. Like I said, we’re sampling your favorites tonight. I’ll go get the second course.”
Sarah wanted to ask him how he knew her favorites but stopped herself. The answer would probably be more than she could handle, much like the medicine cabinet full of cosmetics.
Matthew took his dish away and she turned, watching him disappear into the kitchen. When she heard the refrigerator door open and dishes clatter against the marble countertop, Sarah inched her chair to the left, craning her neck to see if she could catch another glimpse of the Rover she hoped she hadn’t imagined. Hope began to fade—Ethan wasn’t there.
“What are you doing?”
She jumped, whirling around in her seat, heart pounding. “Nothing. I was enjoying the breeze coming in from the window. Most people hate the smell of low tide, but there’s something so…earthy about it.”
Matthew studied her face, eyes narrowed, as he moved forward with their plates. He set an elegantly prepared salad down. The presentation was excellent, with vivid colors from the deep greens of the lettuce, red of tomatoes, orange from shredded carrots.
“I think you have two callings, Matthew—flowers and food.” Afraid she’d overdone the compliments, she glanced at him, gauging his reaction. She let out a long, quiet breath when he only appeared pleased.
As Sarah chewed a bite and listened to Matthew talk about himself with half an ear, she planned. If she could convince him to open the window just a bit further, she would dive through the screen when he went in to prepare the next course. No one was coming for her and time was almost up. Lights had come on in the homes across the street. If she dove and screamed as soon as she hit the ground, she’d draw someone’s attention before he could get outside and take her back in.
She took another bite, swallowed. “Matthew, would you be willing to slide the window up just a touch more? I really do love the breeze. It would make this the perfect evening.”
He paused with a cherry tomato on his fork, refusal on his tongue.
She gave him an encouraging smile, regretting it instantly as pain radiated through her lip, but he set his fork down.
“Just a little more,” he said, standing, pushing the frame as far as it could go.
“Thank you.” She had no doubt she would fit through.
Sarah brought another bite of salad to her mouth, ready to move things along. It was time to save her own life.
Ethan crouched back against the thick bushes, using the shadows dusk provided, listening to Sarah’s voice carry through the window screen. If he didn’t know her as well as he did, he would’ve believed she were enjoying herself, but the tension was there, in every careful word she spoke.
Rage choked him as he inched his way forward and saw her face in the candlelight. He watched her wince ever so slightly as she brought a spoon to her swollen, split lip. A deep purple bruise bloomed over her cheekbone, another along her jaw. He had to get her out of there.
He looked for a shot on Denmire right then, but he sat too close to Sarah in the elegant dining room. Ethan hesitated, not wanting to lose sight of Sarah, but moved to the side of the house until he made it to the unlit room beyond the kitchen. The window he would use to gain entry was open six inches. Ethan slit a hole in the screen, tugged on the frame, removed it. He pushed up on the windowsill next, wincing, praying it wouldn’t make a noise. As he boosted himself up, he glanced back, just in time to see S.W.A.T pull up down the street. Men and women dressed in black carried sniper rifles and moved in different directions through the neighborhood, preparing to execute their crisis response. They were going to fuck everything up.
Breaking silence, Ethan spoke as quietly as he could. “S.W.A.T’s here. Move.”
Two taps echoed in his ear, followed by two more. He took a deep breath. They were all inside now. One of them had to get to Sarah before S.W.A.T initiated their first phone call. That would be the end. Ezekiel would kill her right then. He had nothing left to lose.
Ethan took the Glock from his holster, released the safety, held the gun in both hands, arms braced against his chest, ready to fire. He walked down the hall, silently, keeping his back to the wall, concentrating on the sound of Sarah’s voice getting closer with every footstep.
As he made his way to the living room, just steps away from Sarah, Austin appeared from a door on the opposite side of the room, mirroring his stance with his own pistol. “Optimal position upstairs,” echoed in his earpiece when Hunter whispered.
“I have to use the bathroom, Matthew.”
“We just sat down. Is this some sort of game, bitch?”
“No. The baby sits on my bladder and—”
“I don’t want to hear about your little bastard,” Matthew hollered, making Ethan’s finger dance on the trigger. That asshole wouldn’t hit Sarah again. He would die first.
“I’m sorry, but I really do have to go. You can stand outside the door if you like. I thought it best to use the restroom now before you bring out the main dish, which smells amazing, by the way.”
“Master Cooke’s little bastard’s fucking it all up,” he muttered, enraged. “Fine, but don’t try anything. I’ll have to punch you again, which I thoroughly enjoyed.”
Two dining room chairs slid over wood.
Ethan met Austin’s gaze as Austin eased back into the dark of the room he’d come from, disappearing from sight. Ethan glanced around. There was nowhere for him to hide. He backtracked toward the office, but it was too late. Sarah stepped into the living room, glanced to her right, paused, eyes locking on his before she looked straight ahead and kept going.
A million thoughts passed between them in that second. There was nothing he wanted more than to grab her up and take her away from this nightmare, but he couldn’t. He stayed where he was, watching her eyes fill and her lips tremble as she continued forward, as if she hadn’t seen him in her dress that pressed snug against her body, accentuating her pregnancy, gaping open in the back, exposing her white bra and smooth skin.
Good job, Sarah. Keep going and we’ll end this.
She’d only taken two steps into the room when Matthew, or Ezekiel, or whatever the hell his name was, yanked her back against him. “What are you sniveling about?”
“Nothing. I’m just a little tired.”
“Yeah, well by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be way past that.” He grazed his mouth against her ear. “Maybe I should give you something worth crying about.”
“No, please don’t.”
“You said you had to piss, so get on with it. The haddock’s going to dry out, then I really will have
to punish you. I’m beginning to think you like it.” Matthew shoved Sarah with such force, she almost fell.
A red haze of fury all but blinded Ethan as he stepped forward. Enough was enough. He pointed his gun, surging toward her.
Matthew’s eyes widened in surprise. “What the fuck?” He stepped back, dragging Sarah as he grabbed a butcher’s knife from the antique woodblock decorating his buffet table. “Get out of my house before I kill her.”
Tears streamed down Sarah’s ghostly pale cheeks as she stood trembling with the knife pressed against her throat.
“I’ll put down the gun, but I’m not leaving.” Ethan placed the weapon at his feet, never taking his eyes from hers.
“I say you are.” He skimmed the knife against her skin and she whimpered, tightening her grip on the arm Matthew wrapped around her waist as a small trickle of blood dribbled down her neck.
Hunter’s voice sounded in his ear again. “Get him to move a little more to the left. Austin should be able to get a shot on him.”
“Confirm that,” Austin said.
Ethan put his hands in the air, took a step forward, toward the door. “Okay, I’ll go. Just don’t hurt her anymore.”
Matthew’s eyes gleamed bright as he began to laugh. “You’re not so tough now, are you, pretty boy? All those muscles aren’t doing you a damn bit of good. Zeke Denmire’s in charge now, and don’t you forget it.”
Sarah choked out a breath. “Take care of Kylee, Ethan.”
“You shut up,” Matthew said as he skimmed the knife against her again, causing her to gasp. Blood seeped and she closed her eyes as pain and terror radiated across her face.
“That’s enough! Stop it! ” He couldn’t take it anymore. “I said I would go.”
