He ran a warm bath as he pondered the events of the last twenty-four hours. Fate was a funny thing. He had been so out of his mind with jealous rage when he’d viewed that video recording of her and... him. Thank God she’d been at work when he saw it, or who knows what he would have done.
God, she made him crazy in a hundred different ways! But he loved her. Loved her so much. And after he’d had a chance to calm down and think through things, he knew that if he was to have her, he would have to be smart about it. The brute force method was accomplishing nothing more than pushing her further into Callaghan’s arms.
He shouldn’t have yelled at her in front of Callaghan. That had been a mistake. But he’d been so angry! If only he’d waited until he’d calmed down and then talked to Lacie, surely she would have seen reason. She never would have done what she did.
It was defiance, he saw that now. A need to prove that she was her own person. He of all people should understand that about her. As sweet as she was, she needed to feel that she had some control over her life. For as long as he could remember, someone was always telling her what to do – her parents, her overprotective brother, her interfering little sister. And, if he was honest, even him sometimes. But only because he loved her.
Unlike other teenagers and young adults, though, Lacie had never rebelled. As the oldest and only boy, Brian had been wild; Corinne got away with everything because she was the baby. But Lacie? She was the good girl, the responsible one. These last few weeks were nothing more than Lacie finally asserting her independence, of flipping everyone the proverbial bird. It was a bit delayed, perhaps, but inherently overdue.
Once he realized that, everything fell into place. He knew then what he had to do. Oh, he wanted to spend a week making Shane Callaghan suffer for what he did, the fucking dog, but he couldn’t blame Lacie. Callaghan was a pro, after all, and Lacie... well, she was not exactly schooled in seduction. It was a well-known fact that good girls were attracted to bad boys, and there was no one better than his sweet, naïve Lacie.
How could she not be taken in by Callaghan’s smooth lines, slick car, and extravagant dates?
He blamed himself, really. He should have been more aware of what was going on, found a way to show Lacie the truth before things got too far. Well, he sighed, what was done was done. And now he was going to make everything right.
Craig tested the water, making sure it wasn’t too hot, mentally chastising himself for not thinking of something bubbly and sweet-smelling to add in. Lacie always smelled so good – her hair, her skin, her clothes. Maybe next time he drove into town for supplies he’d pick up something nice for her to use. Something soft and feminine, just like her. Yeah. She’d like that.
He shut off the water, and set towels within reach of the tub and returned to thoughts of his good fortune. He couldn’t have planned it better, really. Everything had come together so nicely. Lacie’s meeting had run late. Her sister probably thought she was with Callaghan. No doubt Callaghan thought she was with Corinne. Lacie had lost her phone, so neither of them could confirm or deny their theories before it was too late.
Then Lacie had fallen asleep, and how perfect was that? Originally he’d tampered with the engine so that she’d need a ride home. Lacie was always the last one out of the building; he’d counted on the fact that few, if any, would be around to offer assistance. He’d conveniently be driving by, stop to help, and bam – she’d have no other choice but to talk to him. And if she balked and tried to blow him off again, well, he had that pre-loaded syringe in his pocket. Craig believed in being prepared, and he had it all planned out.
He would never have wished anything bad to happen, but again, he saw it as a sign.
Really, this was so much better. He was not just the guy who would have given her a ride, he’d actually rescued her. God, the way she’d clung to him like he was some kind of hero! He would remember that feeling forever. And when she had spoken his name, had practically melted in relief to discover it was him who held her, who carried her into the warmth and safety of his truck – fuck! It was better than anything he could have hoped for.
He probably hadn’t even needed the sedative, but why take the chance?
Now he had her all to himself, far away from everyone who would try to keep them apart. No one would ever think to look for them here; no one else knew about this place. Roger used to talk about it all the time when they were in-country and had some downtime, how he used to come here to get away from it all.
And Lacie needed him. She was injured and sick, and he would take care of her. What better way was there to make her see the truth? They belonged together. That was the truth he had to make her see. He knew her, understood her. No one could care for her better than he could.
After some consideration of the best course of action, Craig stripped down to his skivvies and carried her into the tub with him, hissing at the feel of her bare flesh against his. Lacie never even flinched, remaining limp and pliant in his arms. He hadn’t planned to get this intimate so quickly, but it was the best way to care for her while she was unconscious. He stepped carefully into the tub and rested her across his legs and torso. The setup allowed him to wash her and keep a careful hold on her at the same time, ensuring she didn’t slip into the water or exacerbate the injuries she already had.
He washed her with reverence, taking his time, his attentions thorough. She was soft in all the right places, just like he knew she would be. Not skinny, not hard-bodied, but feminine and yielding with just enough to squeeze.
Afterward, when every inch of her was cleaned and warmed, he dried her with soft, fluffy towels. Taped her ankle and wrist. Gently rubbed mineral oils into her bruises. Bandaged her cuts and scrapes. Dressed her in his soft flannels. When he was finished, he sat back and admired her.
Beautiful. She was so damned beautiful. She was a precious gift to be treasured. He would never hurt Lacie, not ever. Not like that bastard Callaghan.
Cold fury began to flow through his veins when he thought about what Callaghan had done to his Lacie. If he hadn’t seen it for himself, he wouldn’t have believed it. The bastard had been so rough with her, almost brutal when he had taken her over and over again. The tiny security camera Craig had installed in her bedroom all those months ago had shown him the horrific truth. Callaghan was nothing less than an animal, completely undeserving of one as innocent as Lacie. Once things settled down, he was going to put Callaghan down like the rabid dog he was.
Craig threw on some pajama bottoms and crawled into bed beside her. He would make himself get up and out of the bed long before she awoke, but for now, he would hold her to him, protect her, keep her safe and warm as only he could.
Chapter Sixteen
Shane slammed his fist through the drywall with a strangled curse. His brothers exchanged glances, but no one said a word. It was shocking to see the unfettered rage coming from the quiet, soft-spoken Callaghan, yet they understood what had driven him to this point. Each of them had faced similar crises. The love they felt for their mates and the fear they felt when they were in danger greatly surpassed any physical pain, stretched all limits of control.
And when they had needed him, Shane had been there for them, without question, without fail. With a sense of profound empathy, they would do the same for him. They would rectify the situation and bring his woman back to him. As Shane had claimed her, so Lacie had become part of their family. In this they were united.
The search in and around the school had been extensive. The Pine Ridge police had been called in out of necessity. They combed every inch of the building and grounds, even brought in the canine unit. It all added up to the same thing: Lacie had been on the grounds, then she wasn’t.
She was injured, they knew that much. Michael had confirmed that the blood discovered at the scene matched Lacie’s using skin and hair samples. The only thing keeping Shane relatively sane was that all signs pointed to it being an accident, and, judging by the amount of blood, not a life-th
reatening one at that. But if someone had deliberately hurt her... He punched the wall again, needing an outlet for the crushing emotions overwhelming him.
Her car didn’t have much to offer in the way of explanations either. It had been towed back to the garage, and Sean had meticulously gone through it. It had taken less than five minutes for him to find where the lines had been disconnected, effectively disabling the vehicle, but whether or not this was done deliberately or something had just worked its way loose was unclear.
Lacie was out there somewhere, hurt, and no one knew where. Questions pounded in his brain, tormenting him. Was she alone? Was she scared? How badly was she hurt? Why didn’t she call?
Someone must have found her. It was the only explanation that made sense. But that brought even more questions. Who found her? Why hadn’t they taken her to a hospital? Called the police? Brought her home?
He didn’t like the answers he kept coming back to: Someone had Lacie and she was unable to contact him or anybody else for help.
“Goddamnit,” Shane cursed, smashing through the wall a third time. Why were they standing here instead of finding her and bringing her back home? They’d gone all over the world doing just that for people they’d never met, people they didn’t love. Yet here they were in their own fucking backyard and they couldn’t find his croie.
“Finished yet?” Ian asked somberly.
Shane shot him a withering, lethal glare. “Davidson has her.” His gut screamed with the knowledge.
“We don’t know that, Shane,” Michael said quietly.
“I know it,” Shane seethed, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger while blood dripped from his hand unchecked. “That call was bullshit, placed after the fact. He’s obsessed with her, can’t stand to see her with anyone else. I saw the look in his eyes. I should have foreseen he’d do something desperate like this. When the fuck is Nicki going to call anyway?”
Nicki was in Craig Davidson’s apartment with Sean, using her particular CSI-type expertise to look for something, anything that might give them a clue to what happened. Despite what any of them said, it was just too coincidental that Davidson happened to choose that particular time to go “visit an old friend.”
The words had just left his mouth when Jake’s cell went off. The fact that it was Jake’s phone – and not Shane’s – was telling. “Yeah,” Jake barked into it.
Outwardly his expression didn’t change, but the temperature in the room dropped as he listened, his body hardening into stone. “Got it.” When Jake shoved the phone back into his pocket and his eyes met Shane’s, Shane’s heart nearly stopped. He’d only seen that look on Jake once before, when his wife Taryn had been in danger.
Shane couldn’t bring himself to ask what it was that they’d found. He already knew it was bad.
“Davidson apparently had surveillance cameras hidden in Lacie’s apartment,” Jake said, his voice like ice. “They found a series of recordings.” He blinked, but didn’t look away. “Including one of you and Lacie.”
Davidson had been spying on Lacie? For a few moments it was hard to breathe as images of Lacie - as he had seen her – filled his mind. Lacie, soft and sleepy, snuggled in her bed. Lacie, emerging from the shower, scrubbed and pink. Lacie, sweet and beautiful, just being herself. Lacie, flushed with desire, screaming his name as she came... Those were his images, for him and him alone.
Red haze obscured Shane’s vision as his heated blood turned to ice in his veins. He was so enraged that everything went silent, into a perfect, deadly calm. It was a state he’d never experienced before; it was... chilling.
And just like that, the picture came together with startling clarity. “He wanted her. Seeing her with me pushed him over the edge. Drove him to do something desperate.” It was Shane’s voice, but not. It was as if someone else had spoken, because Shane’s internal systems had temporarily locked down in self-preservation mode. This was his alternate persona - the quintessential black ops man who was now entirely focused on only two things: Find Lacie and bring her home. And kill Craig Davidson.
He’d been right all along. Davidson was a psychopath. And right now he held Shane’s heart.
* * *
Daylight was streaming through the windows of the bedroom. Lacie blinked against the light. It felt like she’d been sleeping forever. Her body was stiff and heavy, as if she hadn’t moved in a long time. Everything was sore – her head, her back, her arms, her legs.
Where was she? She squinted at the unfamiliar surroundings. It was a fair-sized room, clearly a man’s room. The colors were dark, browns and greens and blues; the furnishings clean and simple, functional. The bed took up a good part of the space. A Shaker-style matching dresser and night table were the only other pieces – simple, sturdy, wood-grained – pine, maybe. Definitely not anywhere she’d ever been before.
And what was she wearing? Like the room, her clothing clearly belonged to a man. A heavy, soft flannel shirt and lightweight sweats that were way too big for her. Her ankle, wrist and hand were securely taped. A few twists of her torso confirmed what the dull throb had already suggested – that she had definitely sustained an injury below her right shoulder blade.
Craig entered the room, his face breaking into a smile when he saw she was awake. “Morning, sunshine,” he said with cheer, carrying in a small tray with toast and juice. “How are you feeling?”
“Craig,” she croaked, the memories starting to come back to her, along with the uncertainty, the fear, and the feeling that something was definitely not right.
He grinned wider and sat beside her, slipping a thermometer under her tongue while pressing his other hand to her forehead. “Got it in one. Guess that rules out a serious concussion.” He winked.
“Where are we?” she asked, taking out the thermometer. Craig put it right back in.
“My uncle’s hunting cabin. Now keep that in there or I’ll find somewhere else to stick it.” She scowled at him, making him laugh. He was definitely in high spirits. “Brat. Show some gratitude, will you?”
She remained quiet until he removed the thermometer and looked at it, frowning. “One hundred point seven. Could be worse, I guess, given the shape you were in last night. Let’s see if we can get some more fluids in you, keep that fever from going up any higher.” He stood, stacking pillows behind her and helping her to sit up. She winced at the pain in her back.
Last night. The storm. She’d been cold and wet, covered in mud and in incredible pain. Now she was warm and dry, wrapped in soft flannel and the excruciating pain was reduced to a series of dull background aches. Realization dawned. “You undressed me,” she said, her eyes widening while heat flooded her face.
He rolled his eyes, seeming exceptionally cheerful and un-Craig like. “Trust me. You don’t have anything I haven’t already seen, sweetheart,” he assured her. “And what was I supposed to do? Leave you in your wet, muddy clothes all night? It’s not like you were in any shape to do it yourself.”
Lacie bit her lip. That was true enough, she had to admit. Still, the thought of Craig seeing her naked kept the color rising into her cheeks and made her feel ... violated. He smiled, but thankfully, refrained from commenting further. Talk about awkward.
Time to move on to question number two. “Why are we at your uncle’s hunting cabin? Why didn’t you take me home?”
Craig’s eyes darkened; he stilled momentarily, then wiped the thermometer and placed it back into its plastic sheath. “I can care for you better here.”
His carefully modulated tone sent a chill through her. “Craig, what’s going on?”
“You tell me, Lace.”
Lacie blinked slowly; she hadn’t expected him to throw the question right back at her. “Since I’m just waking up and you’re the one that brought us here, I’m not sure how I can.”
Craig’s lips thinned as he checked the wraps, made her wiggle her fingers and toes, had her follow his finger with her eyes as he moved it from side to side. She humored him, k
nowing it was the only way he would answer her questions. Repeating the query would be useless; Craig would answer in his own time. Defiance at this point would only get his hackles up, and she needed information, not attitude.
Apparently satisfied that everything was as it should be, Craig exhaled heavily. “Lacie, I’ve known you your whole life. You’re not acting like yourself lately. I’m worried about you.”
She blinked. “There’s no reason to be. Well, other than my usual klutziness, but you should be used to that by now.” She attempted a smile but Craig did not return it.
Craig shifted, averting his eyes. “See, that’s where we disagree. You’ve been especially moody lately, and doing irrational things.”
“Moody? Irrational?”
He nodded, his eyes unusually bright. “Yes. You missed pizza and movie night, Lace. You never miss pizza and movie night. Shelly was devastated.”
Lacie frowned. She thought Shelly had seemed just fine, but refrained from saying so. Craig was acting very strangely. Even more protective than usual, he was speaking to her as if she was an explosive child prone to temper tantrums. Usually if Craig had something to say he just came out and said it, subtlety be damned. This cautiousness was out of character, and something told her that whatever he was referring to was about more than one missed pizza and movie night.
“And you yelled at me, Lacie. Twice. You’ve been angry with me before, but you never yelled at me. Scowled at me, told me I was wrong, walked away, sure - but never yelled.” He gave her a look of such suffering she felt a slight twinge of guilt. “I was only trying to look out for you.”
If she didn’t know better, she might think Craig was actually pouting. Those pills he gave her last night must have hallucinogenic side effects. Had she not felt like Alice in Wonderland falling down into the rabbit hole she might have laughed, but her instincts told her this was no laughing matter. She decided to go with her instincts on this one.
Beyond Affection: Callaghan Brothers, Book 6 Page 14
