by Denise Agnew
“Is that what it is? A war?”
“Of a sorts. I’d rather the cops catch Rivers and send him back to prison. Finished and done. We go back to our lives.”
“That’s what I want, too.”
He saw a flare of heat in her eyes. She nodded and walked toward him. His body tightened as she stopped close. She smelled so damn good, and all he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and forget the world for awhile.
Instead he said, “Let’s eat.”
He started for the door, but she clasped his forearm. “Wait. Dylan, I just wanted to thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything you’ve done. Even though we hardly know each other, you’re already a great friend. A very decent human being. I’m lucky to be here with you.”
Warmth spread through him, and not just in a man to woman sexual attraction. Her words meant something, made Dylan whole again in a way he hadn’t experienced in months.
He smiled. “Well, maybe not lucky. If Allan Rivers didn’t exist, if he wasn’t stalking you, this wouldn’t be happening.”
She punched him playfully on the shoulder. “I’m trying to say thank you and you’re ruining it.”
He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, unable to break contact with her. He kissed her soft skin and felt the jolt of that intimacy all the way to his groin. She gasped a little, and when he looked up, her warm brown gaze caught his and held. Temptation hovered there, burning down deep. It took everything inside him not to pull her into his arms.
He released her. “Thanks accepted. Let’s go downstairs and eat.”
Once in the kitchen, they set the dining table and decided to make salad. They settled down to eat, and the silence felt comfortable to him despite the situation. Instead of talking about Rivers and what might happen in the future, they talked about their lives before this situation, all of the little things that might seem inane but turned out to be important.
They finished their food and cleaned up. After they’d put all of the dishes in the dishwasher, they retired to the living room for some television. Before long they found themselves sitting side by side. He made a decision and a lump grew in his throat.
“There’s something else I think you should know,” he said.
She sat up all the way and turned toward him. “That sounds scary.”
He drew in a deep breath, still afraid to tell her but know that he must. “Not scary exactly, but…”
She touched him again, her fingers soft on his forearm. He savored the feeling. “Please. Tell me.”
One more deep breath. “When I got out of Delta, I was at this big hardware store with Bryson. As we came out of the store, we saw a woman being wrestled into a van by this guy. She screamed, we ran toward the van. Bryson and I rushed the van but the guy peeled out of there and almost ran us both over. We called the cops. We didn’t get the license number and by the time the police located the van fifty miles away, the woman was found inside…dead. It was her ex-boyfriend…he was the one that killed her.”
He saw the pure sympathy in her eyes, how her lips parted in dismay. “Oh, my God. That’s horrible.”
“Yeah. We felt like shit. We didn’t save that woman’s life. I didn’t save her. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t feel qualified to protect you. I should’ve told you this before you trusted me with your life.”
He waited for her reaction. And waited. She still touched his arm, the warmth of her skin a reassurance.
She leaned forward a little. “I still trust you. Nothing is going to change that. You tried to help that woman and you did the best you could. No one could blame you for what happened.”
“I do.”
She touched his face. “Whatever it takes, I’ll help you with that. Until you stop blaming yourself.”
And she kissed him.
Fierce desire whipped through Terra like a storm. She felt his hesitation, but then it disappeared in a rush as his strong arms came around her. She kissed him with eagerness, with a wanton need to show him how much she cared and wanted him. Thick, heavy need made her move against him. His lips traced hers with passion this time rather than caution, and his tongue plunged, stroked and tangled with hers. A hot swirl tingled and built in her belly and she felt that heat shoot straight between her legs. Eager for more, she took the next step. She pulled away slightly and his arms loosened. His eyes were hot, intent as he met her gaze. She straddled him, wanting to get closer. With a groan he lifted his hips and she couldn’t ignore the thick erection pressing upward between her legs and hitting that spot. The place that ached to be filled.
She matched his groan with a muffled whimper as everything inside her craved completion. They rocked against each other, building a momentum of heat and desire so incredible it rose to an unstoppable height within her. Terra couldn’t believe the feelings, the desire melting her into a thousand brilliant pieces. She’d never experienced such pleasure before.
She traced his shoulders and arms, savoring his masculine strength. It turned her on, grew that feeling she could do anything. His hands clutched her waist, urged her rhythm both in her kisses and the way they moved together. She allowed the tingle, the heat to rise between her thighs, forgetting anything and everything but the amazing feeling building to a mind-melting height.
As she tore her mouth from his, she threw back her head and moaned with pure pleasure. Shaking, shivering, she allowed the orgasm to fill her center.
The landline phone on the table next to them rang and they both jumped. She climbed off his lap as the sound hit her like a cold dash of water. They locked eyes.
The phone rang three times before Dylan answered and put it on speaker phone. “Yeah.”
“Dylan?” Bryson’s voice came through the line.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I wanted to make sure you guys got there safely.”
Dylan smiled and her gaze tangled with his. She felt a new warmth low in her stomach. “Sorry I forgot to call. We’re good. Thanks for checking up on us.”
“Don’t get too happy. I just heard from a friend at the police department. Allan Rivers dumped the Forerunner. He’s stole another car.”
“Shit,” Dylan said under his breath.
“Oh, my God,” Terra said as anger rose up inside her.
“It gets worse,” Bryson said. “The police think he knows where you are.”
Chapter Ten
“What?” The word shot out of Terra. “How?”
“He had a contact in the police department. Someone who fed him information on both of you,” Bryson said. “She just confessed.”
“What?” She sounded like a broken record, but she didn’t care. “She? Who is she?”
“A woman in the records department by the name of Cynthia Bunker. Does that name ring any bells?” Bryson asked.
Terra exchanged glances with Dylan. “Vaguely,” she said. “Around the edges.”
“She claims she met you at a school function a few months back. She says that she’s always hated you. So when Rivers started staking out our area a few months back—”
“A few months,” Terra burst out. “But he’s been in prison.”
“According to Cynthia,” Bryson said, “she’s been corresponding with him by mail. He’s been staking it out that way while he plotted an escape from the work detail.”
“So Rivers manipulated her to the point she’s been giving him information?” Dylan sounded incredulous.
Apparently Rivers has been milking her for information while she’s been milking him,” Bryson said.
Terra snorted. “She’s been sleeping with him?”
Bryson said, “She confessed that he took her car last night after she slept with him. But she swears she didn’t give him permission to take it.”
Dylan cursed under his breath again. “Tell me this woman has some serious mental problems or she’s incredibly naive.”
Bryson said, “Bingo. Both. She’s on several drugs rig
ht now, including one for severe depression. Which isn’t to say she’d do something like this because she’s depressed, but obviously he manipulated her very well.”
Terra held up one hand, even though she knew Bryson couldn’t see her. “That’s who he is. A manipulator. How did Allan know where I was in the first place? Just because Cynthia gave him the information?”
“It’s part dumb luck. His parents told him where you moved,” Bryson said. “He got lucky when Cynthia hooked into sending him mail after she saw an article about you in the newspaper, Terra. She already disliked you, I guess, and then she saw the article and bam. She saw it as a way to get even with you.”
Terra threw her hands up. “I don’t even remember this woman!”
“My friend in the department said Cynthia was getting more erratic all the time, and when her supervisor checked into what Cynthia was doing on her computer, that’s when he saw that she’d logged into all these files on Rivers. For no legitimate reason. The supervisor investigated and Cynthia confessed. That’s the only reason we know about it,” Bryson.
“Damn it.” Dylan said. “This isn’t good.”
Terra’s blood iced. “Okay, now that we know the facts, what do we do?”
The landline went silent.
“Bryson? You there?” Dylan asked.
The line was dead.
Dylan stood slowly, his stance filled with tension. “Up to the safe room.”
“What?” Terra also stood. “Why?”
“Just go. Now. I don’t think the line going dead is a coincidence.”
She seized up, her brain refusing to cooperate.
Dylan took her upper arm and steered her around the couch toward the staircase.
A boom cracked through the same time the front door lock shattered and wood flew everywhere. She also heard Dylan’s voice as he cursed.
“Upstairs!” Dylan shoved her toward the stairs.
Another loud boom hurt her ears and a searing pain struck her head, and she fell onto her left side before she could reach the stairs. She heard a man’s yell, but it didn’t sound like Dylan. She heard Allan River’s voice. Time stretched, lengthened. What the hell was wrong with her? What had happened?
Terra wondered if she was dead. Her forehead throbbed and her entire body refused to cooperate at first. Then she realize Dylan was lying over her, his arms braced alongside. His heavily-muscled weight sank down on her.
“Dylan!”
But he didn’t move. She pushed at his shoulders, and that’s when she realized blood ran down the side of his head.
“Oh my God,” she whispered as terror sliced open a new place inside her. “Dylan!”
Allan’s boyish face appeared above her, his corn-yellow hair falling over his forehead and almost into his eyes. The freckles over his nose, which he’d always hated, stood out in stark contrast on his pale face.
“Hey baby,” Allan said, his voice rusty. “I’ve come to take you home.”
She couldn’t stop the tears, and she hated that almost as much as she hated Allan in that moment. Her voice wouldn’t cooperate.
Allan’s expression turned to an enraged smirk.“Come on, baby. Aren’t you glad to see me?”
Allan reached down and yanked Dylan off of her. Dylan flopped onto his back and lay still, eyes closed. Allan held a shotgun of some sort at his side.
“Oh, God,” she said again, reaching for Dylan.
“Don’t touch him.”
“But he’s bleeding. Please Allan—”
“Don’t touch him!”
Primal fear froze her in place.
“That’s better,” Alan said as he started for the mangled front door. He shoved it closed and returned to her in a flash. “Much better. Think it’s going to get cold in here later.”
Her gaze landed on Dylan again and pinpointed his chest, waiting to see signs of life. She thought she saw his chest rise and fall, and a shiver of hope coursed through her.
“Stop. Looking. At. Him,” Allan said with a snarl.
In that moment, something cold and hard formed inside Terra. Dylan was out cold, and for all she knew he could be dying. It was up to her to save them both. Determination and pure anger edged aside some of the gut-twisting fear threatening to immobilize her. She had to do something. Anything.
“Okay, Allan. You found us. What do you want?” she asked, still sitting near the staircase, her body trembling.
“Sit on the couch,” he said.
She rose to her feet, all her muscles suddenly aching and weak. She sat on the edge of the couch.
Allan shook his head. “You shouldn’t have ever left me, Terra. That was your first mistake. Are you fucking this guy?”
“No.”
He looked into her eyes, and the coldness she saw made her wondered how she ever could’ve been fooled into thinking he was anything more than an icy, evil-filled man.
His eyes narrowed. “Well, there are a lot of things you’re going to do for me shortly.”
That hard won control she’d acquired moments ago threatened to shatter. “Such as?”
“You’re gonna get upstairs to the bedroom while I tie him up.”
To her surprise, and in one crystal moment, she knew what she had to do to save herself and Dylan.
Everything inside her tightened up, but she said what she knew she must say. “All right.”
Without hesitation, she turned her back on the men and headed upstairs at a trot. Her forehead throbbed with every beat. She could go for the gun in the safe room, but she probably wouldn’t have time to load it and she didn’t trust her skill with shooting it. But she had another idea that would work just as well as a weapon if she did everything right. Without a doubt, she’d have to be the best damned actress on the planet to pull it off, but she had to try. Worry threatened to unseat her plans, but she pushed aside her fear for Dylan. She couldn’t help him if she fell apart.
She ran into the master bedroom, grabbed her case and unzipped it quickly. She snatched a packet of crackers and peanut butter and ran into the bathroom. She locked the door, ripped open the snack package and used a cracker to dig out peanut butter. She ate rapidly. She didn’t need much peanut butter for what she planned. She swallowed and then shoved another cracker in her mouth. Chewing frantically, she scarfed yet another cracker. She made sure she left peanut butter under her tongue. Knowing she didn’t have time to consume more peanut butter, she threw the packet and tissues in the trash.
She heard sounds coming from downstairs and hoped with everything inside her that Allan wasn’t harming Dylan more than he already had.
Please. Please don’t hurt Dylan.
Then she did something else she didn’t want to. She pulled off her shoes, socks and stripped down to her undies. Everything inside her hated this idea, but she couldn’t think of another one considering Allan had the upper hand. At least for now.
She eased open the bathroom door and stepped out. Footsteps tromped up the stairs. She shivered in the chilly room as renewed fear tried to cripple her. She stood straight as the sound of heavy footfalls came up the stairs. Allan came in to doorway, his hands empty. What? No gun? Maybe he just thinks I’m too crippled with fear to do a damned thing.
He came to a dead stop. “Whoa.” His expression changed from cold determination to hungry appreciation. “That’s…nice.”
She tried not to step back as he approached, afraid she hadn’t covered an involuntary flinch.
He didn’t seem to notice as he gripped her shoulders tightly and gazed down at her. “I think you and I are going to have a good time.”
Fighting revulsion, she eased into his embrace, also trying not to seem too hasty. She kept her trap shut. Allan had always liked a compliant woman, one he saw as receptive to what he wanted above her own needs.
He stepped back. “This seems a little too easy, Terra. What are you hiding?”
Her heart almost stopped as new fear threatened. “Hiding?”
“Yeah.” He p
ut his hands on his hips. “Hiding.”
“How did you find us?” she asked.
He sighed. “I have friends in higher places. Don’t try to change the subject. Now why did you strip?”
“I thought that’s what you wanted. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. So just take what you want.”
His eyebrows went up. “Oh, I will.” He tilted his head to the side. “I will.”
With a shit eating grin, he stepped forward. When he yanked her into his arms, she gasped. He wasn’t as tall as Dylan or as fit, but he still outweighed her by quite a bit and by considerable strength.
“If you want your boyfriend down there to live, you’ll do everything I say from this point forward. And I mean everything. We’ve got some lost time to make up for.”
His grin grew wider. Right at that moment, rage solidified inside her. She struggled to make certain the hate wouldn’t show.
His smile didn’t falter. “Why did you run from me?”
“You were in prison. I had to move on with my life.”
“You didn’t write me, but that other stupid bitch did. Turned out it was a lucky break for me. Now it’s a lucky break for you.” His breath touched her forehead. Then her nose. “If you want that guy downstairs to live, prove it to me that you’ll do anything I want. Anything.”
Now or never.
“Of course.”
She leaned forward and kissed him.
He seemed surprised, but when she plunged her tongue into his mouth and cupped his face tightly between her hands, he relented immediately and took the kiss.
You asked for it, you’re going to get it asshole.
He jerked back, staggering as rage filled his face. He knew what she’d done.
“Bitch!”
He swung his fist, she dodged but his aim impacted the side of her head. Pain cracked through her skull. She went down like a brick, landing on her right side.
“Bitch!”
More profanity spilled from his lips as he ran to the bathroom. She half crawled, half ran as for the closet, jammed her hand against the latch to open the safe room and plunged inside. The lights came on as she slammed the door and locked it. She couldn’t hear what was going on outside of the room—apparently the walls were too thick. Trembling all over, she grabbed the phone and then remembered it was tied to a landline. She tried it anyway. No dial tone.
