The Heart of Falcon Ridge

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The Heart of Falcon Ridge Page 22

by DL Roan


  “So you pushed her toward us with hang up calls and flat tires!” Matt scowled as the scenario played out in his memories. The fucker had tormented her for days!

  “The fire.” Grey sighed, not believing what he was hearing.

  “I told you it wasn’t the water heater we installed!”

  Grey didn’t respond to Mason’s defensive outburst. The bullshit and torture he’d put himself through…They’d all been manipulated into this. Had any of it been real? Would she have told them any of this? She said she was ready to tell us something. This wasn’t just something. This was deal-breaking huge. Nothing about her is real. How could she keep something like this from them after knowing what Sarah had done to them? She’s not Sarah. This isn’t the same. Their entire lives had been upended over this woman. None of this is her fault.

  “I had nothing to do with the dead cow, the pictures and the phone calls,” Grant said. “Dawes had cornered the market on those.” He looked at Grey. “The tires and the fire were an unfortunate necessity to get her here.” He ignored the menacing sneer on Grey’s face. None of that mattered now. “Lucien is here and he will not stop until he rapes Gabriella and-or kills her,” Grant said. “And trust me. I don’t think it matters to him in which order that happens.”

  “So Gabri…” Hazel choked off her question. She lowered her head and massaged her brows with the tips of her fingers.

  Running his hand in comforting circles on her back, Nate leaned forward and tipped her chin toward him. “Haze, can I get you some water, babe.”

  She nodded and rubbed absently at a spot on her chest. “Thank you. I could use an aspirin too.” Nate gave her a peck on her cheek and left to tend to his wife’s needs.

  “So,” Jake said, taking Nate’s place next to their wife and continuing to comfort her as he spoke to Cade. “What’s the game you’re playing with this Lucien bastard? If you can’t just kill him, what does he have that’s worth risking our family’s live for?”

  Josiah narrowed his eyes at Hazel’s brother, waiting on his reply. He was going to enjoy joining his brothers in beating the hell out of Cade when this was over. He looked up at his brother-in-law and caught the pleading glance he was casting Daniel. “What are you not telling us, Cade? Or should I ask what else?”

  Cade shook his head and gave one last pleading glance to his friend. He hated asking this of Daniel, but it was the only way his family would understand why he’d had to do this. Even then, after what those boys had been through, it might not be enough to keep from dying at the hands of his own family, not that he didn’t deserve it.

  Daniel cleared his throat and leaned back against the window sill. “I came to care for Gabriella very much during the time I spent with her.” No longer noticing any of the people in the room, he retreated into his own private hell, pulling a worn, blue length of ribbon from his pocket, rubbing it between his fingers as he relived the nightmare that had started it all.

  “She’s like a daughter to me.” After a long silent moment, Daniel forced himself to continue. “She’s one of the kindest, strongest women I’ve ever known, but she’s not the only reason I will hunt Lucien to his grave.” He fingered the ribbon, braiding it through his fingers then pulling it free. He schooled his features, tucked the frayed length of ribbon back into his pocket and pegged Grey with another icy stare. “Gabriella’s father took my daughter.”

  Grey visibly blanched at the pure hatred that spilled from the retired Marshal’s eyes. He swallowed against the knot in his own throat as he and Daniel came to a complete and total understanding. At least he thought he understood the man, until Gregory continued. He soon learned there were some furies in life he hoped he’d never experience or understand.

  “She was sixteen.” Daniel paused, looking for a moment as though he would puke, but the moment passed and he re-schooled his expression. “He took her and sold her to the highest bidder. I need Hector’s records from Lucien so I can track down every piece of scum that ever laid a hand on her, rip the skin from their bodies, piece by piece, then feed it to them before I tear out their hearts with my bare hands and send their souls back to the pits of whatever hell spawned them.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Dad…I…this…”

  “I know this is hard, Grey.” Josiah placed his hand on his oldest son’s arm, stopping him before he could open the driver’s door to his truck. “The boys will be fine. Me and your fathers will take Cade and go get them. Take your brothers to see Claira.”

  Grey’s head snapped up and an unfamiliar anger filled his veins. He hadn’t forgotten the part his dads had played in this. “Don’t you mean Gabriella?” They knew about this, and he’d be damned if he was going to be further manipulated into caring about her. “I think your matchmaking days are over, old man.”

  Grey reached for the door handle again but Josiah grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “You listen here, boy. I may have screwed up by not getting more details from Cade before I agreed to this—God forbid we help one of our own around here—but I’ll be long dead and in the grave before you get by with disrespecting me.”

  It only took one glance at his dad to recognize the error of his ways. Grey released his death grip on the door handle. He might be getting up in age, but no doubt his dad could and would still kick his ass. “Yes, sir.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and leaned against the door. “Sorry.”

  “Listen, son.” The anger in voice gone, Joe cuffed Grey’s arm and pulled him to lean against the truck bed. “I know what you went through with Sarah. I never told this to anyone but, I was there that morning she died.”

  Grey looked over and noticed a slight tremble in his dad’s hands. “What do you mean?”

  His arms stretched out over the bedrail, Joe bowed his head and looked at the ground, giving the back tire a frustrated kick. “I drove over early that morning to help your brothers weld up one of the stock tanks that had sprung a leak. When I heard dishes crashing and you yelling at her, I froze outside the door. I didn’t know what to do.” Joe stood to his full height and turned to look at Grey. “But I do know what it’s like to say things you don’t mean and not be able to take them back, son, and it’s time you let that shit go.”

  All the air left Grey’s lungs as the memories came flooding back. He thought telling his brothers was hard. Knowing that his fathers knew what a bastard he’d been was too much.

  “Hell, I let this go on long enough. Too long.” Joe tipped his head and spit in the dust. “It’s not your fault she died, Grey. These things happen. Shit happens, every day; to good people. Sarah lied to you, to all of us. She didn’t deserve the things you said to her, but you didn’t deserve to be lied to, either. It doesn’t make any of it right or wrong. It just is.”

  He cupped the back of Grey’s neck and held him at arm’s length. “Things might be screwed up right now, Greyson, but the life that woman has brought to this family is worth fighting for. She’s worth fighting for. Don’t try to undo one mistake by making another. Take your brothers and go get this thing with her straightened out.”

  Grey fought for each breath as his dad’s words hit him like a sledge hammer to the gut. Nothing felt worse than the guilt over what he’d said to Sarah that day, except knowing that his father had known all this time. “Why?” He shook his head as he remembered all the times since that day his dad had treated him with nothing but love and respect. He hadn’t deserved either. “Why didn’t you say anything? I needed my ass kicked. You raised me to be better than that.”

  Joe released his son and removed his hat, pushing his sweaty, graying hair back with a trembling hand. When he looked at Grey and all he’d become, his heart swelled with pride and ached with regret that he hadn’t told him the truth sooner.

  He could see the shame and humiliation in Grey’s green eyes; eyes that reminded him so much of himself. Clearing the sob from his throat before he castrated himself and started bawling like a baby, Joe plunked his hat back onto
his head and gave his son a wavering grin.

  “Because you are your father’s son, Grey. I knew you’d punish yourself far worse than any ass whippin’ I could give you. It’s my fault you’re still all screwed up about it, though. I didn’t realize I’d let it go on for so long.”

  Grey swallowed hard and forced back his own pussy tears. “Goddam, dad. You’re going to make me cry if you keep that shit up.” Grey took off his own hat and wiped his face and forehead with the crook of his arm. “Nothing’s your fault. I screwed up. I’m dealing with it, but this thing with Claira….” Grey shook his head. Claira. Gabriella. He didn’t even know what name to call her.

  Fear, anger, love, lust, betrayal, all swirled together creating a confusion Grey was helpless to fight as it ate up his mind and thoughts like a cancer. “I can’t think about that, about her, right now, dad. Matt and Mason can go, but I need some time. I need to see my boys; to know they’re okay.”

  Joe didn’t push him any further, but didn’t give him any slack either. “I’ll ride with you to Hanna’s to see the twins, and then I’ll drop you off at the hospital on the way back home.”

  Grey shook his head and started to argue, but the sound of Jake’s voice yelling from inside the house had them both running from the truck and up the porch steps inside three seconds.

  “What’s going on?” Grey stumbled through the screen door. Joe plowed over him to get to the source of all the noise.

  “Get my phone out of my pocket and speed dial number four,” Nate shouted as Grey and Joe rounded the doorframe to see him holding Hazel in his arms. Their mother was as white as a sheet of ice and holding her fist against her chest. “Tell Dr. Pendercast to meet us at the hospital. Your mamma’s having another heart attack.”

  “Another? What the hell? When was the first one?” Mason asked, grabbing the phone as Matt cleared the hallway and held the front door open for them.

  Nate blew through the doorway and cleared the steps in two long strides. “Stop asking questions and make the call!”

  Mason dialed frantically as their Uncle Cade, Daniel Gregory, Grant Kendal and the Sheriff preceded Grey, Joe, Matt and Jake out the front door. Sheriff Long called dispatch to notify the hospital and let them know that he was giving them an escort into town since it was quicker than waiting for an ambulance.

  Four pick-up trucks, a full size blazer and a trail of dust a half-mile long followed the Sheriff’s car down the long gravel driveway and onto the two-lane road that led into town.

  Mason sat in the back seat of Grey’s truck with his eyes closed, praying like he’d never prayed in his life for a convoy of cowboys to sprout wings and fly. No one said a word as the road passed under their tires like a treadmill going nowhere and the sounds of the distant siren from the patrol cruiser filled the cab. They couldn’t lose their Ma. No matter how bad things had gotten, nothing they’d gone through in the last week could have prepared them for this.

  Blood seeped through the cotton bandages and stained the pale-yellow hospital gown Claira held to her shoulder. Finding a pair of not-too-dingy nurse’s scrubs in an abandoned waste bin had been luck. Changing into them with her arm taped to her chest had been close to impossible.

  The pain was nauseating, nearing intolerable. She feared she’d pass out at any moment if she didn’t find a place to hide and catch her breath. Some escape artist you’ve become. She didn’t have time to lose it now. She didn’t know how, but she knew Lucien was there, in the hospital. She’d awoken to find the air around her had taken on a sudden, slimy chill she’d long ago associated with him.

  After the last nurse had come to check on her, she’d yanked out her IV—which hurt like crazy and was so much messier than they showed in the movies—then she’d spied her cellphone lying on the table by her bed. Thank God for small miracles. She didn’t waste any time snatching it up and darting out of her room and down the hall, her head hung low to shield her face.

  Turn after turn she found herself lost in a maze of double doors and identical rooms with an elevator nowhere in sight. Glancing over her shoulder as her legs carried her further into a maze of confusion, pain sliced through her shoulder as she was struck by what she could only guess was a Mack truck.

  She heard someone mumble ‘sorry’ as she spun off an empty gurney and stumbled a few feet further down the hall. Black edges crept into her field of vision. Her legs were numb, but she could tell by the way the lights above her moved within her slowly fading field of vision that she was still moving.

  Have..to..hide. Keep moving. Running through what felt like molasses, her eyes darted from side to side. Every metal object took on a shiny halo as her vision blurred further. Desperate not to pass out, she grabbed onto the only object that made its way into the gathering darkness that surrounded her.

  Relief flashed through her veins when the silver door handle turned. She fell into the darkness beyond the door and it closed behind her with a soft click. Rolling into a ball, everything but the pain disappeared as she forced air into her lungs.

  Breathe damn it! She could hear Matt’s voice in her head and pictured him hovering above her, showing her what she needed to do. After what she was sure was only minutes, but could have been hours, she began to notice small slivers of soft light surrounding her. A chill from the cold tile floor seeped into her bones. Sweat coated her skin and the pain in her chest and shoulder had lessened from searing to a burning ache.

  Unable to move more than her head, she glanced around the unlit room and noticed a metal desk and chair, a thin bookcase full of books hugging one wall. A few frames hung on the other wall, but she couldn’t make out what, if anything, they displayed.

  She was in someone’s office. Claira ignored the ache in her joints as she reached into the front pocket of the scrubs and pulled out her cellphone. She turned on the power and waited, breathing through the pain, as her phone went through the usual startup routine. Once her contacts were displayed, she found the name of the only person she knew could help her, pressed the send button and hoped he would answer.

  “Gregory.” Daniel Gregory’s voice barked in her ear and a sudden rush of adrenaline flooded her veins. She tried to sit up, but that only induced a loud, pain-filled groan.

  “Gabriella? Gabby is that you?”

  Unable to push the words past her lips, she nodded but quickly realized that wouldn’t help her. “Yes,” she croaked, pushing back the sob inside her that ached for release. “Daniel, he’s here,” she whispered. “Lucien is here.”

  An odd mixture of ice and lead poured over Grey as he heard Daniel shout her name. Cold fear gripped his chest. His legs felt weighted to the pavement. He forced himself to move as he followed the Marshal through the hospital parking garage, in through the emergency room doors and down the hall to a huge bank of elevators. “Is it Claira? What’s going on? Is that her? Is she okay?”

  “Stay here, Grey.” Grant shouldered him back as one of the elevator doors opened and they stepped in. “Stay with your family and tend to your mother.”

  “Like hell!” Grey pushed his way back through the closing door. “What the hell is going on?”

  Cade slipped in behind him before the doors closed. “I spot two at the main entry and one near the stairs.”

  “Two what?” Grey asked.

  Daniel continued to speak calming words to Claira—Gabby. Ugh! Grant ignored Grey as he punched the elevator button for the second floor then turned his attention to the phone in his hands. “Keep her talking, Daniel. I’ve got a tracking app on her phone. We’ll find her.”

  “Where are you?” Daniel asked as he watched Grant push another button for the third floor. “She’s in an office,” Daniel relayed to Grant. “She doesn’t know where.”

  “She’s on three,” Grant barked at Cade as he palmed his phone and pulled his .45 from his shoulder holster. “You take the right,” he told Cade. “Daniel and I’ll take the left wing and we’ll meet at the other end of the floor. Check every room and
keep your back to the wall. Lucien won’t be alone.”

  Grey’s heart felt like it would stop at any moment. All he could see was some faceless monster dragging Claira away from him. He didn’t care if she’d lied or had a different name or, hell, she could be a damn alien. He wouldn’t care as long as she loved them; as long as he didn’t lose her.

  This was all happening so fast and he didn’t have a clue how to help her. He just knew that if they didn’t find her alive and in one piece, he and his brothers may not survive. They needed her. “I’ll go with you.” He turned to Cade. “Jesus, I don’t have a gun.”

  “Stay here, Grey.” Cade pushed past him as the doors slid open. “We’ll find her before Lucien does.”

  Grey watched in a speechless daze as Grant and Daniel flowed out into the bright hallway to the left as they’d agreed, his Uncle Cade peeling off to the right. He stood motionless for all of ten seconds then swiveled back and forth from left to right, watching in turn as the men disappeared into the first set of rooms. “Fuck!” He ran a hand through his hair and took off in the same direction as Cade. Family stuck together, right?

  Claira groaned as she pulled the silent phone from her ear and studied it, gritting her teeth against the pain even that small movement caused. No! No-no-no! The battery was dead. Dead! Dead! Dead! Just like her if they didn’t find her before Lucien. She had to get up. Get moving. They were on her floor. All she had to do was get Daniel’s attention.

  She groaned as she pushed herself up onto her knees. A stabbing pain shot through her shoulder, but she pushed herself to ignore it and rolled to her feet. More sweat broke out across her forehead and upper lip as she breathed through the waves of pain, focusing hard to keep the room from tilting any further on its axis.

  One foot in front of the other. That was all she needed to do. Just a few steps and she’d be able to lean against one of those tilting walls near the door. Hopefully, if she leaned hard enough, it would stop moving.

 

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