by Tami Lund
“Wait—the fire inspector was killed?”
Matt nodded. “In her own home. Last night. Mauled by an animal, according to the newspaper.”
“Mauled by an animal,” Josh repeated slowly, his mind whirling a million miles a minute. “You think Rachel gave them the anonymous tip?”
If Rachel was in league with Pantera, why was she trying to take him down? Was she conning him, too?
“Pantera’s a fucking prick. This whole thing stinks of his manipulative, undermining ways. I think Rachel was being forced to do whatever she was doing for him—”
“Fucking me over.”
“Whatever. I think she was doing it under duress. And I think at some point she decided she was sick of being under his thumb, and started fighting back. Only she has no clue who she’s messing with. You and I both know he would kill her at the drop of a hat.”
Matt stopped talking, and Josh mulled over his words. Was Matt right? Was Rachel potentially innocent in this charade? He wanted so badly to believe...
“And now, we have Pantera’s inside guy, and Rachel’s out there somewhere, alone. Hell, does she even know how to drive a motorcycle?” Matt stabbed his finger at the front door for emphasis.
“I have no idea.”
“She has no protection. Against a madman. One who likely just killed another human last night. Oh, and let’s not forget that guy who was found dead in his jail cell, with marks indicating he, too, was attacked by an animal. The man’s a fucking lunatic, and Rachel’s out there, alone, and she probably thinks she can face him, and—”
Josh grabbed the front of Matt’s shirt, pulled him close until they were almost nose-to-nose. “We have to find her.” His voice held more desperation than he would prefer, but Matt seemed to be more approving than worried about that fact.
“Then let’s go.”
“I have no idea where to start looking,” Josh said as he led Matt out to the garage so they could climb into his Escalade.
Matt snagged the keys from his hand. “I’ll drive. You’re too fucked up in the head right now. And why don’t we start with her apartment? My guess is she’s either about to bolt or go after Pantera. I’m leaning toward bolting, based on her previous encounters with him. And if I were going to bolt, I’d want to grab some clothes, maybe a stash of cash, before I took off.”
“I hope to hell you’re right.” Josh hopped into the passenger seat.
“I hope to hell we find her before Pantera does.” Matt cranked the engine and tore out of the garage.
Josh hoped to hell they did, too. Whatever his feelings were on the situation, he could not let Pantera do to her what he’d done to Violet Buchannan and that Billy guy.
He would never be able to live with himself.
Chapter 18
Rachel had nowhere to go, no one to go to for help. No family, no friends. Her boss at the nonprofit would sooner dismiss her out of hand than help her run across the country to avoid being killed by a madman. She’d left her purse at Josh’s house, so she didn’t even have a driver’s license and her debit card. Unlike probably everyone else in the world, she didn’t have a stash of cash hidden somewhere in her apartment. She’d never had enough left over to even consider opening a savings account, let alone a rainy day fund.
Still, she went to her apartment anyway. It was probably a stupid move, considering how frequently Pantera tended to show up there without any indication of forced entry. She hesitated on the threshold and then abruptly turned and knocked on the door across the hall. Old Mrs. Benson opened the door and greeted her with a warm smile. She could hear the sounds of a game show drifting out from the tiny television in the tiny living room.
“Land sakes, Rachel, what’s wrong with you? What happened to your neck? Did that jerk come back? Didn’t you listen at all to my stories about abusive men?”
Rachel cupped her neck and nodded. “I did, Mrs. Benson. I’m in a bit of trouble, and I need to get out of town. That guy—that older guy who keeps coming to my apartment—you haven’t seen him today, have you?” She glanced over her shoulder at the closed door to her own apartment.
“Not today, dear. What’s wrong? How can I help?”
Mrs. Benson could barely afford to put food on the table, but she was one of the most giving souls Rachel had ever met. “You can’t. I just—I don’t know what to do. All I know is I have to leave town.”
“What happened to that nice young man that you were spending so much time with? I had really hoped he might be the one.”
Rachel bit back a hysterical laugh. “Yeah, me, too. But our entire relationship was a sham. That slick, older guy who keeps showing up here, he was forcing me to sleep with Josh, so he could take over their association. He’s power-hungry, I guess. Only their association is—” What, exactly? What was it? What were they? The conversation she’d overheard between Josh and Matt replayed in her head and she shook it, refusing to believe. That stuff wasn’t real.
“He’s dangerous,” Mrs. Benson stated. “He needs to be behind bars. I saw what he did to you. And I bet he did that, too, didn’t he?” She pointed at the bruises on Rachel’s neck.
She would not meet the older woman’s gaze. Instead, she turned toward her own apartment and swore when she placed her hand on the doorknob. “I don’t have my key.” What else should she expect? Other than those few wonderful weeks with Josh, luck had never, ever been on her side. Why would it start now?
“What do you need?” Mrs. Benson asked, more firmly this time. She latched onto Rachel’s arm and guided her into her own apartment. “If it’s that bad, and that boyfriend of yours won’t help, then let me. I’ve been there, Rachel. Let me help you get out.”
Twenty minutes later, Rachel slid behind the wheel of a fifteen-year-old white sedan, a hundred bucks and a phone number written on a piece of scrap paper in her pocket. The phone number belonged to Mrs. Benson’s cousin, who lived in southern Illinois. “I’ll let her know you’re coming,” the sweet older lady had said when she pressed the piece of paper into Rachel’s hand. “You can stay with her until you figure out your next steps. Take care of yourself, now.”
And then Rachel was gone, leaving her life behind. The only aspect she regretted leaving was Josh.
*
“Told you she’d come here,” Matt said triumphantly when he maneuvered the Escalade into the parking space next to his motorcycle. “And considering my bike’s in one piece, I’m guessing she knows how to ride.” He sounded more proud than relieved.
Josh barely heard him. He was out of the vehicle before it even stopped, rushing down the sidewalk and up the stairs toward Rachel’s apartment. He stopped short when he saw the crumpled body lying on the floor in the hall. For a split second, his blood turned to ice in his veins, as he feared the unthinkable, but then the body stirred, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Matt came up behind him and shouldered him out of the way. “That’s her neighbor,” he said, crouching down near the woman’s head.
It was indeed an elderly woman. Old Mrs. Benson, Rachel called her. Sweet old lady, she’d said. Always watching out for her neighbors, even though she was old and frail.
“She was protecting Rachel,” Josh stated, staring down at the cut and bleeding woman.
Mrs. Benson shook her head and labored to breathe. “She’s already gone,” she managed to croak. “He missed her by maybe ten minutes. Are you gonna help her?” She looked up at Josh, her gaze surprisingly strong, given her circumstances.
“Yes.”
“Good.” She nodded, as if satisfied with his answer. “That girl deserves some happiness in her life, for once. I think you’ll make her happy. She’s on her way out of town. Southern Illinois. Going to my cousin’s house.” She rattled off an address and Matt pulled out his phone, tapped on the screen, presumably entering the info into his GPS.
“Thanks,” Josh said, and then he paused, something striking him as odd. He heard Matt, on his phone, speaking with a 9-1-1 operator, r
eporting the incident. “You’re still alive.” Every other human who had crossed Pantera’s path lately had been killed. How had this frail old lady managed to save herself?
She lifted her hand, which clutched a small, black object. “Stun gun. I zapped his ass.”
*
Rachel hated that she was running, but she really had no other choice. Josh likely wanted nothing to do with her, and once Pantera figured that out, he’d come after her and kill her. She was as certain of that as she was of the fact that she would never love another man for as long as she lived. Josh had her heart, whether he believed it or not, and it would never belong to another.
He would move on, would find someone new, would forget all about her, eventually. He believed she was a traitor, that she’d used him on Pantera’s command. Which was, unfortunately, the truth. Jeremy hadn’t exactly clarified that she’d done it under duress, but that hardly mattered. She’d whored herself out to Josh, she’d deliberately used him to aid Pantera’s agenda. She wondered if Pantera would eventually win. God, she hoped not. Josh deserved to be happy. She should have left days ago, weeks ago. But she’d been selfish. She had enjoyed being with Josh too much to do what was right.
She was hardly better than Pantera.
Traffic was light; for once, a tiny sliver of luck on her side. In forty minutes, she’d be out of the city, on the open road, heading toward her future. She had no idea what that future held, but at least she had one. If she stayed, that was a questionable option.
She stopped at a red light. When it turned green, she glanced in both directions before letting her foot off the brake. Good thing, too, because a full sized silver truck was tearing down the road, heading in her direction, and the driver didn’t seem to be slowing down. Rachel pressed more firmly on the brake and decided to let the maniac driver fly through the intersection first.
At the last second, just as the nose of the truck reached the intersection, it swerved toward her. Rachel was so stunned, she pressed both feet to the brake and clutched at the steering wheel, staring at the vehicle as it aimed for her front left fender.
It made impact with a bone-jarring crunch, crumpling her car’s fender and sending it spinning several times before it came to a lurching stop. The airbag instantaneously inflated, her body slammed against the seatbelt, and the air expelled from her lungs in a great whoosh, before she crashed back against the seat again.
She sat still for a long moment, stunned. What just happened? God, her lungs were on fire; she wasn’t even sure she could properly suck in a breath. Was anything broken? Had she punctured an internal organ? And most importantly, why had that truck swerved at the last second, like he was deliberately trying to run into her?
The car door rattled, drawing her attention.
She looked out the window and saw Pantera standing there, trying to open the door, but the metal was buckled and crushed, and it wouldn’t work properly. His hair stood on end, his eyes were wild, and not for the first time, she had the impression they were glowing. He looked crazed. Demented. Instinctively, she clawed at the seatbelt, unhooking it, shoved the airbag out of the way, and scrambled across the seat to the passenger side. Before she could open the door from the inside, he was there, pulling it open and grabbing her by the hair.
He dragged her from the car and she stumbled onto the pavement, scraping her knees and palms on the gravel and bits of Mrs. Benson’s car. Crying out, she fought him, knowing if he managed to get her alone, she was dead. And just like the first time they met, she wanted to preserve her own life. Despite having lost the one thing she truly loved, she still wanted to live. Death was so... permanent. She struggled, gasping when he gave her hair a firm yank.
“Stop fighting me. You can’t win.”
He was right, not that she listened. As if she were no more than a child, he dragged her to his truck, past the chrome bumper guard that had protected his vehicle and destroyed her own, and jerked open the driver’s side door. He unceremoniously tossed her inside with such strength her body slammed into the passenger side door. He climbed in next to her, shifted the truck into reverse, backed away, and then shifted it into drive and left the scene, all without so much as glancing in her direction. Rachel cowered, curled up into as tight a ball as she could, pressed against the passenger door, staring at him while he watched the road, a strange, almost serene smile on his face.
“Why—why did you hit me?” she finally asked, unable to stand the uncomfortable silence.
“I had to stop you, didn’t I? I can’t finish the game without you. The key component won’t come without you.” That creepy smile never left his face.
“What are you talking about?”
He didn’t respond. She looked out the windshield and noticed they were heading back toward where Josh lived.
“Where are we going?” she asked, although she didn’t really expect an answer.
“You’ll see,” he promised in a singsong voice. And then he twisted the knob on the radio, filling the cab with classical music. She noticed his hand shook slightly until he lifted it and wrapped it firmly around the steering wheel. She stared at his hands, her insides coiled tightly in anticipation, as if at any moment he would reach across the cab and strangle her. Or rip her head from her shoulders. She had absolute confidence he could do it, if he were so inclined.
But he didn’t. He drove back through town, humming quietly along with the music, ignoring her.
What the hell did he plan to do next?
*
“I still can’t believe she didn’t kill herself riding my bike,” Matt said, while following the route his phone indicated would lead them out of town, toward the address Mrs. Benson had given them.
Josh didn’t bother to comment. He was too distracted by thoughts of Pantera. He was angry that the man had injured Mrs. Benson, furious he’d killed the fire inspector, even pissed off he’d killed the guy who’d helped him set fire to the Bears’ home. But most of all, he hated Pantera for everything he suspected the man had done to Rachel. The only injuries he knew for certain were those he’d seen, but had there been others? How long had he been controlling Rachel, abusing her, forcing her to conform to his will?
His cell phone chimed, and when he saw Brendon’s name on the screen, he answered and put his friend on speakerphone.
“Jeremy’s been taken care of.”
“How?” Josh asked.
“Do you really want to know?”
It seemed his closest friends knew him better than he knew himself. No wonder it had been so damn easy to dupe him. “No. Did you find out anything more about Pantera’s plans?”
“With regard to Rachel, it looks like it all started a couple weeks before the fundraiser. Did you know she was a maid at the hotel?”
“Yeah.”
“Pantera had been watching her. Deliberately picked her out, told Jeremy to hit on her, take her to a hotel room, get her alone.”
Josh closed his eyes and tried really hard not to think about exactly how Jeremy had managed to lure her into a hotel room.
“Pantera busted in, kicked Jeremy out, and wired a hefty payment into his checking account. Jeremy says he doesn’t know exactly what happened after that, and I tend to believe him, at this point.”
Matt snorted. Josh decided not to dwell on why Brendon was so comfortable in that knowledge.
“But he did say Pantera kept her under his thumb. Sounds like a couple times, she tried to resist him, and he had to smack her around a little to put her back in her place.”
Josh steadily breathed through his nose, working hard to maintain his equilibrium, to not lose his cool in front of his men. Inside, he was boiling with rage, furious that he hadn’t seen what was happening right before his eyes. He had wanted so badly for the relationship between him and Rachel to be real, that he’d been blind to reality.
“He’s going to pay,” Matt said, breaking through his thoughts, his conviction and determination almost a living, breathing thing. Josh
appreciated the show of solidarity, especially considering they were talking about seeking vengeance for a human. A human woman Matt knew Josh had taken to mate, despite the expectations of his pack.
“We have enough on him at this point, we have every right to seek justice, per pack policy,” Matt added.
“Cal and I agree,” Brendon said.
“I think most of the pack will agree,” Matt said.
“We’re talking about meting justice against a shifter for what he’s done to humans,” Josh pointed out, somehow managing to be the voice of reason, despite his internal animal snarling and growling and wholeheartedly agreeing with his men.
“He’s destroyed too many lives, human and shifter,” Matt said. “It’s time to end it. Punish him and then excommunicate him. He’s done far too much damage to this pack.”
“There’s more,” Brendon said, and the hackles on Josh’s neck suddenly stood on end, as he waited for his friend to expound.
“He killed your parents, Josh.”
The silence was deafening. Even Matt, who had been insisting exactly that since the car accident that took their lives, stayed silent.
After a long moment, Josh said, “How? What did Jeremy say?”
“He swears he wasn’t on Pantera’s bankroll that far back, that he’d only recently been bought. Luring Rachel to that hotel room was his first job for Pantera.”
“What did he say?” Josh demanded, not carrying one fucking iota how long Jeremy had been betraying him. One day was too many.
“Apparently Pantera’s starting to lose it. He’s been talking to himself a lot lately, muttering, complaining, mostly about you and your parents and your grandparents. Jeremy overheard him talking about the crash, how brilliantly he’d set it up. He thinks Pantera somehow rigged your parents’ car, so that he controlled it from his truck.”
