The man was even nice to her cat! As responsive to the feline’s needs as he was to hers. A smile touched her lips, a slaphappy grin probably not unlike the one Stan had worn this morning around Helen. And by the time Cal strutted through the bedroom door, that smile was all she wore. She opened her arms, and blue fire leaped in Cal’s eyes.
They fell back on the rumpled sheets together. Frantic hands roamed over heated skin. Hungry mouths fed on the taste of each other. Eager bodies tangled and writhed.
And when the right time came, Libby opened herself to Cal’s penetration and took him inside. Into her body, into her heart, into her soul. Right where he belonged.
Holding Libby felt so good, so right, he hated to move. But as darkness swallowed the day out her bedroom window, hunger pangs rumbled in his stomach. He’d burned a lot of calories in the past couple hours, and he needed refueling. He had plans for a long, active night ahead.
He brushed a sweat-dampened lock of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Can I interest you in a snack? Maybe a ham-and-cheese omelet?” He quirked a frown. “Assuming we still have any cheese after the sandwich disaster.”
She chuckled and rubbed her hand over his chest. “Sounds good. Need any help?”
He lifted her fingers and brought them to his lips for a light kiss. “Not unless you hear the smoke alarm.”
She laughed, and the musical sound gripped his chest. He’d missed her laughter, the spark of mischief and joy in her eyes, the sense that he could be completely at ease and unguarded with her. He could be goofy or serious, be quiet or talk openly, whatever the moment demanded. He had back the Libby who had stolen his heart five years ago. Warmth spread through his chest, expanding until it was difficult to breathe. He shifted to his side and gazed into her glowing eyes. “I’ve missed you, Lib. The connection we have.”
She grew still, and her smile sobered. For a moment, he feared she would retreat, pull back behind her defensive walls. He clenched his teeth, fighting off the swell of disappointment.
Instead, her eyes misted, and a bright intensity lit her mahogany gaze. “Cal, I’ve done a lot of thinking today. And I realized a lot of things about myself.”
He stroked a knuckle over her cheek. “Like what?”
“For starters, I realized how—”
The impatient trill of the phone interrupted. Her gaze darted to the obnoxious machine.
“Ignore it. What were you saying?”
She sat up, pulling the sheet around her breasts. “It could be important.” She reached past him for the phone.
He caught her hand. “Let me.”
The shadow that flickered over her face told him she understood what he’d left unsaid—her stalker was still on the loose, getting closer.
“H’lo?” He sensed Libby was finally ready to open up to him, to reach an understanding, a truce. To move forward.
“Cal? It’s me.”
He recognized Renee’s voice. And the panic quivering in her tone. “What’s the matter, Renee?”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” Renee sobbed. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault!”
He tensed, squeezed the receiver. Ally.
“What is your fault? What’s happened?”
“I fell asleep. I didn’t hear anything until too late.”
Cal’s gut churned, and bile surged upward in his throat. “What happened?” he snarled, already climbing from the bed and fumbling to put on his pants.
“It was only some w-weed, Cal,” Renee choked out. “I…I really am trying to c-clean up my act, but—”
“What happened!”
“Ally’s gone,” his ex squeaked.
Icy dread snaked through him. “Are you sure? Have you looked in her closet?”
Libby gasped, and he raised his gaze to clash with the fear filling her eyes.
“She’s not there. Someone took her. They left a note.”
“A note?” A terrifying suspicion crawled through him. Libby’s wan expression reflected the same chilling conclusion.
He forced his constricting throat to work. “What’d it say?”
“He has d-demands. He wants something. It says…he’ll be calling L-Libby to arrange his ransom.”
Cal felt the blood drain from his face. Rage pumped through his veins. Terror twisted his lungs. “Have you called the cops?”
“I…not yet. I called you first.”
“Do it. Now.”
Renee hiccupped a sob. “Cal, why would someone take Ally? And wh—why would he call Libby about the ransom?”
“I don’t know.” But he feared he did. And the answer scared the hell out of him.
His baby girl was in the hands of Libby’s stalker.
Chapter 16
Libby jumped when the phone rang, even though the call was expected. Her nerves jangled with dread and frightening images of Cal’s daughter—her stepdaughter—in the hands of a madman.
Cal pounced on the phone. “Yes?” he snapped, his own fear and tension palpable.
Guilt wrenched her gut. She’d drawn Cal and Ally into her nightmare. She should never have gotten involved with Cal again while she had the stalker’s threat hanging over her. If anything happened to Ally…
“Listen here, you scum.” Cal’s face contorted in a mask of fury and loathing. “If you hurt one hair on my daughter’s head, I’ll hunt you down and make you wish you were never born!”
Tears burned Libby’s eyes, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth to muffle the whimper that squeaked from her throat. Numb and silent, she and Cal had both dressed as they’d waited for the ransom call. Libby had used her cell phone to call the police—just in case Renee still hadn’t.
Now, trembling and heartsick, she stepped closer to Cal, hoping to give him strength with her presence. Needing to draw strength from him.
She smoothed a hand down his back. His muscles bunched and vibrated with the fear clearly written in his eyes. What would Cal do if he lost Ally because of her? And it would be her fault. She’d brought the horror of her stalker into his life and his daughter’s.
Please, God, spare Ally. I’ll do anything…
“You’re a sick bastard,” Cal growled.
Libby winced, shook her head. “Don’t make him angry.”
Cal met her worried gaze. His cerulean gaze clung to hers. “No. You’re crazy. No way.”
“What?” she mouthed.
Cal closed his eyes and shuddered.
“Listen, I’ll give you money. Name your price. Just give me back my little girl. Safe and sound.”
Cal listened again and bit out a scorching curse. “Where? Where are you?” Pause. “I can’t promise that.”
Pain and frustration laced Cal’s tone, hummed from his tight, quivering muscles.
Libby moved in front of Cal, trying to read his expression. What had the creep asked for?
“Tell him yes. Whatever it is he wants! We have to get Ally back!” she begged.
“No!” he shouted into the phone, but she couldn’t be sure if he was answering the stalker or her. He circled her waist with his free hand and hauled her in close, clutching her to his side like a life preserver in a stormy sea.
Her tears soaked his shirt, concern for precious Ally choking her.
“Wait! Don’t hang up! Let me talk to Al—”
She hugged him tighter as another shudder rolled through him.
With a roar, he threw the phone across the room. It smashed into a vase of dried flowers with a jarring clatter and crash.
The echoes of his outburst reverberated through the bedroom and settled around them like an ominous fog.
Libby swallowed, wetting her arid throat. “What does he want? What won’t you give him?”
Cal’s arms tightened around her until she couldn’t breathe.
“You, Libby. He wants you.”
“I’m going after her.” Cal levered away from Libby even though he wanted nothing more than to hold her, protect her, until the stalking scu
mbag was caught.
But Ally was in danger. He had to do something, had to try to save his daughter.
Libby clutched his sleeves as he pulled away. “Going after her? Where are they?”
“Lake D’Arbonne. The cabin where you went yesterday.”
Libby knitted her brow over dark eyes brimming with tears. “Stan’s place? Wh—why there?”
“You’re the prosecutor. Why do you think?” He worked his arms free of her grip and headed for the dresser, where he’d left his truck keys earlier. Libby’s cell phone lay beside his keys, and he took it, as well, shoving it into his pocket.
She drew a shaky breath. “The cabin’s isolated. But…we know how to get there.”
Cal didn’t know how to reach the cabin, but he didn’t say as much. He had a good idea how to find out.
“He wants us to come,” Libby added, “but he wants privacy.”
“Bingo.”
Libby trailed behind him as he marched down the hall. “Cal, wait! You can’t go after them! This man is dangerous.”
“Which is exactly why I can’t leave my daughter out there with him a second longer.” He opened the front closet and took out his jacket.
Libby grabbed his arm again, squaring off in front of him. “We’ll call the police back and tell them where the cabin is. They have hostage negotiators and tactical experts to handle things like this.”
He pried her hands from his wrists. “You do that. Meantime, while they get someone dispatched and the directions sorted out, I can be halfway there.”
“Cal, please! You’re not trained for situations like this. What do you think you’re going to do when you get there? What if you make him angry and he hurts Ally?”
As he stalked through the living room toward the back door, the gleam of metal caught his eye.
A gun.
Libby’s gun. Still on the coffee table from this morning.
Cal picked up the weapon and turned it over in his hand.
“No,” Libby whispered hoarsely. “Put it down, Cal. Please.”
He shoved the gun in the waist of his jeans, at the base of his spine, and closed his jacket. “Just a little backup.”
Turning, he started for the door again.
Libby bolted past him and blocked his way. She stood in front of the door with her arms spread. “I can’t let you do this. I won’t let you do this. Cal, I know you’re scared. You’re worried about Ally. So am I! I’m worried sick. But going off half-cocked, maybe getting yourself killed, is not the answer.”
Frustration boiled inside him. “I can’t sit here and do nothing!” Like I did with Mom.
“I know you want to do something, but there are legal channels, rules, proper procedures to follow—”
“Libby, he’s got my daughter! I have to help her!”
Tears spilled onto Libby’s cheeks. “And how is breaking your parole going to help her?”
His parole.
A fist of anguish and futility punched him in the gut, and he tensed. Biting out an ugly curse, he plowed his fingers through his hair.
Libby stroked a gentle hand down his shoulder. “D’Arbonne is outside your parole jurisdiction. You can’t leave the parish, and you can’t be found in possession of a gun.”
Cal gritted his teeth, clenched his fists. “Hell, I know that.”
She held out her hand, palm up, clearly waiting for him to return her pistol.
He didn’t move. In his mind’s eye, he saw Ally, locked in some cretin’s grip, maybe with a gun to her head. White-hot fury burned in his veins.
The sound of his own labored breaths joined the loud tick of the kitchen clock. Seconds of precious time clicked off while he hesitated. He was wasting time debating this with Libby.
“Get out of my way. Please. I have to go.”
“If you break your parole, you’ll go back to jail. Don’t you understand what you’re risking? Think of all you could lose. Ally. Your freedom.” She hesitated. “Me. Cal, I need you. I don’t want to lose you again.”
The thought of losing Libby yanked a knot in his chest. But the immediate threat to Ally bore down on him with more frightening power than the forest fire he’d battled last night.
He framed Libby’s face with his hands and lifted her lips to his. “God knows I don’t want to go back to prison, Lib. I just got you back.”
She wilted against him, obviously believing she’d won.
With her guard down, he pushed her aside and jerked open the door.
“Cal! You can’t! The rules of your parole—”
“Libby, that bastard has Ally. My flesh and blood. My baby. I love her more than anything. More than my freedom. Even if it means I spend the rest of my life behind bars, I have to go to her. I have to try to save her.” He gave Libby a quick kiss. “I’m sorry, Lib. But love doesn’t follow rules.”
He pivoted on his heel and stalked out to his truck.
Libby dogged his steps. “At least leave the gun, Cal. Or take me with you. Maybe if I’m there—”
Cal spun around, aimed a finger at her. “Hell, no! You’re his target, Libby. If you go up there, you’re as good as dead.”
“Not necessarily. Maybe we can use me as bait to stall him until the cops get there.”
“No.” He climbed in his truck and slammed the door. “Not a chance. You stay here. Stay safe.”
She crossed her arms and glared at him as he backed out.
Let her be mad. Better mad than dead.
He turned his truck toward the highway, toward Lake D’Arbonne. And toward the parish line.
If you break your parole, you’ll go back to jail. Don’t you understand what you’re risking?
Libby’s gun gouged his back. He leaned up in order to pull it from under his jacket and set the weapon on the seat beside him.
Next, he pulled Libby’s cell phone from his pocket. He jabbed a few buttons and found Stan Moore’s home number stored in her address book. Cal punched the call button and lifted the phone to his ear.
“Yo,” a groggy voice answered.
“Stan, this is Cal Walters. I need directions to your place at Lake D’Arbonne. Libby’s stalker has my kid.”
Libby wrapped her arms around her waist, fought the wave of nausea pitching in her stomach. Without her coat, the damp winter chill in the night air seeped to her bones. But it was Cal’s words that made her tremble, made her heart ache.
I love her more than anything.
Earlier today, she’d told Stan she respected and admired Cal’s unlimited love and commitment to his daughter. And she did. But…
More than anything.
Once again, she risked losing Cal because she was somehow less important, less worthy of his love. And it hurt.
Damn it, she knew it was selfish. She knew Ally came first. But the sting of being pushed aside by someone she loved, someone she had trusted with her heart and soul, still raked through her, digging up old wounds. Her mother’s easy dismissal of her as unimportant. Jimmy’s cruel treatment because she’d been an inconvenience.
The cold and her tears made her nose run. Libby swiped at her damp cheeks as she stumbled back into the house.
Some people would call it quits after someone lets them down, she’d told Stan that morning. Some people. But not Cal. This morning, she’d asked herself what kind of person she was and pushed the thought away. Now the question begged to be answered.
What was she willing to risk for the people she loved?
You’re his target, Libby. You stay here. Stay safe.
A plan began to take shape in her mind. There was a chance she could help save Ally. A chance she could save Cal from going back to prison.
She was the stalker’s target. She could use that to their advantage. Without stopping to analyze what she was doing or the repercussions, Libby grabbed her purse and hurried for her car.
Maybe she could still prevent a disaster.
Cal cut his headlights and engine at the end of the gravel driveway
leading to Stan’s remote cabin. He let his truck roll to a stop behind a line of tall bushes. Out of sight.
Even with Stan’s directions, the place had been nearly impossible to find, the turns unmarked. He’d wasted precious minutes doubling back when he missed the road leading to the cabin. He prayed the cops would be able to find the turns.
The lights were on in the cabin. Through a window, he saw movement, a shadow on the far wall.
He wrapped sweaty fingers around the gun lying beside him on the seat. Checked that the chamber was loaded. Flipped the safety off.
He left his truck door open. The slam of closing it would signal his arrival. His heart pumped, shot full of adrenaline, like a rookie’s at his first fire.
But unlike a rookie dragonslayer, he had no backup. No one covering his back. And he was fighting a different kind of enemy.
Crouching low, he crept across the dry leaves, the slippery pine straw and loose rocks. Trying to be silent. Praying he wasn’t too late.
A twig snapped beneath his foot. The crack reverberated in the quiet woods like a gunshot. He froze, held his breath. But no one emerged from the cabin to investigate the noise.
He exhaled slowly, collecting his focus. He couldn’t blow this. Ally’s life was at stake.
He wouldn’t fail her the way he had his mother. Failed to protect her. Failed to see the true nature of his stepfather until it was too late. Failed to properly defend himself when he confronted the bastard about his abusiveness.
Inching forward, he pressed his back to the outside wall of the cabin. He eased up to peek in the window, careful not to be seen. By Libby’s stalker or by Ally. He couldn’t risk Ally giving him away.
In the distance, an owl hooted. A low, haunting call.
Tension screamed in his muscles. His pulse thumped in his ears. His hand flexed and tightened around Libby’s gun.
He surveyed the interior with a sweeping gaze. Ally huddled on the double bed at the far side of the room. Her black hair tangled in a halo around her pale face. His chest tightened with the longing to pull his baby into his arms and shield her.
To Love, Honor and Defend Page 20
