Love Under Two Introverts [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  Adam met his gaze and nodded. “Of course you are. You can ride with me.”

  Jake jumped in the front seat of Adam’s cruiser, which was fine with Clay. He didn’t need to ride shotgun. He needed to sit in back so he could continue to hold Tasha—and she could continue to hold him.

  He saw the look of excitement, of hope, on her face and not for the world would he do or say anything to dim that beautiful light.

  He himself had experienced a mixture of hope and fear with Adam’s announcement. He wouldn’t ask the question that was burning in his mind. Was Gord’s phone stationary because he’d stopped moving, or because his phone had been discovered and tossed? There was another possible scenario in that mix, but Clay refused to even let the thought form completely.

  They would find his best friend—his brother—and he would be okay. He had to be okay. They had a wedding—or rather, a Commitment Ceremony—to plan.

  “The location puts that cell phone on a piece of Kendall land, just on the outskirts of town,” Adam said.

  “There’s a small parcel that was once a part of the original Jessop-Kendall holdings,” Jake said. He had his laptop open on his lap. “It hasn’t been worked for years. The house got hit by straight line winds a few years back and destroyed, but the barn is still standing. Just let me finish…yeah, I thought so.” He looked up. “I don’t know if Gord led him here, or if the psycho was the recipient of pure dumb luck. There’s a bit of a depression in the land, and that’s where the barn is located. There are enough trees lining the driveway and just in off the road, that the barn—and any vehicle parked close by to it—would be out of sight to passersby. But that means that we’ll be out of sight, too.”

  Adam stopped the cruiser on the FM road, adjacent to the laneway leading in to the property Jake had just told them about. Clay wanted them to just charge forward—his anxiety had grown during the ten minute ride. Fuck it, let’s just storm the place.

  As if sensing his feelings, Adam met his gaze in the rearview mirror. “We wait for backup—and for Connor to reconnoiter the situation. If we go in there, sirens blaring, that whack job might panic and kill Gord.”

  Clay exhaled, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was a fucking graphic designer, not a cop. “Okay, yeah. I understand.”

  “We trust you, Adam,” Tasha said. In a move that proved to Clay that she really got him, she hugged him tight, and then put her lips close to his ear. “He loves Gord, too, baby. They all do.”

  Clay nodded. He’d only known these new relatives of his since the summer. Tasha had several months on him. He’d share her faith in them, until he could develop some of his own.

  Matt’s cruiser pulled in behind them. Everyone piled out and gathered between the vehicles. Moments later, other men that Clay recognized arrived. Peter Alvarez-Kendall and Joe Grant looked like Feds, even though both were dressed casually today. Morgan and Henry Kendall appeared ready for anything.

  Clay’s uncles, Caleb and Jonathan Benedict, pulled up in a Jeep with their friend and fellow gumshoe Mike Murphy. Mel Richardson had ridden with them. The last pickup to join them was driven by Colt Evans. Ryder Magee was with him.

  Every single man—except Clay—was armed.

  Mel handed something that looked like it belonged in a black ops movie to his business partner, Connor Talbot. Connor looked over at Adam and raised one eyebrow.

  The sheriff nodded to him, and he headed into the property. No one spoke as they awaited Connor Talbot’s return.

  Beside Clay, Tasha began shaking again. Clay moved in behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

  He placed a kiss on the shell of her ear, and then tucked her in close. “When we’re done here, what do you say the three of us head on over to Gord’s and take a nice long soak in that outdoor hot tub of his?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Tasha sighed, and her voice wavered. “When I see him, I don’t know whether I’m going to hug him or hit him for scaring me so badly.”

  Clay could definitely relate to her inner conflict. All he could do was hold her, and pray that Gord was all right.

  It seemed to take ages, but Clay knew it wasn’t really all that long before he saw Connor Talbot approaching through the trees.

  Everyone gathered in close as Connor headed directly for Adam. “The Toyota’s there, and Gord’s inside the barn. He sounds okay. I heard him talking, being all gosh darn and gee whiz and humble.” Connor held up the device in his hand.

  Clay figured it must have been some sort of sound amplifier. “He doesn’t sound like he’s in a lot of pain, so, so far, so good. Now, as to the setup. There’s a hinged single door front left, which looks to be the way they entered, and wider double doors center front, but those are padlocked. I was also able to look inside and see Gord, on the floor of the barn. He saw me, too. But I couldn’t really see Creswell, though I could hear him plenty.” Connor turned his attention to Clay. “There’s a window rear left that’s been boarded over, but a small piece of the covering has fallen away—probably from kids horsing around out here.”

  “I’ve heard tell they do,” Adam said. “All right, what do you suggest?”

  “I think if we could somehow distract Creswell, we could rush the door. But we’ll be going in blind, because I couldn’t see if he was armed, or not.”

  “You’d need a hell of a distraction,” Morgan said. “Chances are that if he thinks he’s going to be arrested, he’ll panic.”

  “Well, there’s one surefire way we could distract him,” Clay said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He thumbed through his address book and then turned his phone for Adam to see. “If he has his cell phone on him, I could call him.” Then Clay looked from Adam to Connor and Mel. “But you’re going to have to tell me what to say.”

  “That sounds like a hell of a plan,” Adam said. “Let’s take a closer look at the situation and see just what we can do. Then we’ll come up with an easy and distracting script for you to deliver.”

  Chapter 21

  Gord had one hell of a headache, and it wasn’t all from the knock on the back of the head he’d received. His abductor—the man had finally introduced himself as Blair—had been talking almost nonstop for what felt like fucking forever. Not only had he been talking both sides of the conversation for the most part, he’d been gesticulating as if the person to whom he was speaking needed the hand signs to understand him.

  The only bad part of the last half hour, aside from the constant grating sound of Blair’s singsong voice, was the man kept turning and looking at Gord, inviting his input. That meant each time he did, Gord had to stop working at trying to untie the rope that bound his wrists behind his back.

  He was getting damn sick and tired of being interrupted in his work, and even more fed up with playing the role of a spineless wimp to this nutcase.

  “I’m sure you have no idea what it’s like, falling in love with someone who isn’t free to love you back. It’s a glorious kind of hell, it’s what the songwriters and the poets have written about for centuries! From the first moment I laid eyes on Clayton, I knew he was meant to be mine.” Blair’s mood switched once more. He whipped around and pointed his gun at Gord. “You had no right to try and take him from me. I should shoot you right now for that alone!” Blair waved the gun around as if it were a laser pointer.

  Gord didn’t know if Blair even knew how to handle that gun or not. He couldn’t imagine the man being allowed to cross the border with it in his possession, which meant he probably bought it right here in Texas.

  But Gord didn’t want to test that theory. “I didn’t know about you. I didn’t know Clay was involved with someone else. Please, don’t shoot me.” Gord’s stomach was souring more as each minute passed. Blair paced as he talked, and sometimes he didn’t even seem to hear what Gord said in response. Well at least he doesn’t think I’m a threat.

  Gord sensed a movement just on the edge of his peripheral vision. Cautious, and wi
thout moving his head too much, he sent his gaze to his right, to the place on the back wall where a little triangle of light shone into the barn. And as he watched, for about five seconds, that light was blocked as someone peered inside.

  Thank God. Gord couldn’t see who was looking in, all he made out was an eye. But that eye meant his prayers had finally been answered.

  Help had arrived and it was only a matter of time before the cavalry stormed the ramparts. Hell of a bad metaphor. Tired of the situation, and most definitely tired of his captor, Gord decided to keep working on the knots and to hell with whether Blair was facing him or not.

  “I’m sure Clayton would have told you about me. He’s a good man. He wouldn’t have willingly cheated on me. No, the more that I think about it, the more I’m convinced that you somehow enticed him. You lured him away from being faithful to me, didn’t you, just Gord?”

  This asshole really is bat-shit crazy. “I really didn’t mean to, Blair. We first met a long time ago, when he came for a visit with his parents. We were young.”

  “Why would he come down here to visit you? I mean, look at you! You’re not even good looking, or hell, even a professional. You’re just a mechanic, for God’s sake.”

  “He didn’t come to visit me. He came to visit his grandparents.”

  “He has Texan grandparents? Oh, how interesting! I didn’t know that about him. Oh, I just love learning these little things about my Clayton. Are the grandparents on his mother’s side, or his father’s?”

  Gord nearly shook his head in disgust. Blair bounced between lucidity and lunacy at an ever quickening pace. Does he think we’re having a nice, friendly little conversation here? Like at a church social?

  “His mother’s side. Maria’s maiden name was Benedict.”

  In the last minute or so Gord thought he’d felt the rope give a little. Eager now to be done, he worked even more feverishly. He thought he heard sounds from outside the barn, but decided that maybe it was just his imagination. Surely his rescuers would move more quietly.

  Then piano music, a melody that tugged on Gord’s memory, began to play. Blair looked as if he was on the verge of an orgasm as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and looked at the call display. Gord finally recognized the song—the love theme from the movie Romeo and Juliet—just as Blair held the phone up to his ear.

  “Hello, Clayton. I’m so glad you called me! Just a moment, please, darling.” Blair looked at Gord. “This is a private call, if you don’t mind. I’m going to turn my back on you. This just proves who he really wants. He called me, just Gord, not you.”

  Joy wreathed Blair’s face and the sight, a horrible transformation, made Gord shudder with revulsion. Clay had called, clearly to distract Blair, and Gord would be damned if he were caught waiting like the wimp he’d portrayed himself to be for his cousins to rescue him. He’d had enough, all right. He gave one last tug, and the rope came free and slid off his wrists.

  He didn’t wait another second. It hurt to move, but he moved anyway. From his knees to a crouch in a heartbeat, Gord didn’t think.

  He just lunged forward and tackled Blair, knocking him to the ground. The gun he’d been holding flew out of his hand and hit the dirt floor ahead and to his right. A shot rang out.

  One breath later, the door burst open and help poured in.

  * * * *

  Tasha tucked herself in close to Clay. They were standing well back but within sight of the small, dilapidated barn with the black Toyota parked in front of it. Matt stood with them, while Adam and the rest of his men had moved quietly but quickly to surround the building. Connor took up position by that back covered-over window and was going to keep an eye on the action inside, so to speak.

  When everyone was in place, Adam turned and gave a signal to Matt.

  Matt nodded then turned to them. “Okay, Clay. Try calling him.”

  Tasha knew that Clay would do whatever it took to help Gord—even engage his best friend’s abductor in a conversation, playing the part of a paramour.

  Clay met her gaze and she nodded her encouragement. A smile was beyond her. He dialed, and they all waited. From inside the barn, she could have sworn she heard piano music.

  Clay had turned up the volume on his cell phone, and as a result, she and Matt were both able to hear when Blair Creswell answered his phone.

  “Hello, Clayton. I’m so glad you called me! Just a moment, please, darling.”

  There was a slight pause, and then, “This is a private call, if you don’t mind. I’m going to turn my back on you. This just proves who he really wants. He called me, just Gord, not you.”

  Clay shivered, and Tasha knew it was a shiver of disgust. Into the phone, he said, “Blair, it’s good to hear your voice—”

  They heard a loud oomph, and then a gunshot rang out.

  Tasha screamed, and turned her face into Clay’s chest. Inside her, everything turned to ice.

  Adam charged the door of the barn, leading with his foot, kicking the old wooden portal wide open. “On the ground! On the ground, now!”

  Beside them, Matt had stiffened, all of his attention on the barn. Clay turned to the deputy. “Go. We’ll wait here until you signal.” Matt ran toward the barn, and disappeared inside, where the rest of the men had gone.

  Clay wrapped his arm around Tasha and held her tight. Tears streamed, and she couldn’t stop them as she lifted her face to look once more at the barn.

  “Oh please, oh please.” She clung to Clay, whispering her two word litany over and over, her gaze trained on that open door.

  “Clay?”

  The voice came from Clay’s cell phone that was still on and dangling from his left hand. Clay lifted it to his ear. “Yeah?”

  “I’m okay, buddy. Adam says y’all can come close now, if you want to.”

  Clay didn’t answer, and Tasha didn’t think. Together they ran toward the barn.

  Gord stepped outside. Clay let go of her hand and Gord opened his arms. She launched herself at him and promptly burst into tears.

  “Hush now, darlin’. Hush, now. I’m all right. It’s all over now and I’m all right.”

  Gord’s arms felt so good wrapped around her. She became conscious of Clay standing close.

  “Damn it, man, you scared the shit out of us.” Clay clapped Gord’s shoulder. Then he said, “I’m so sorry. So sorry. I had no idea—”

  “No apologies from you, Clay Dorchester. It’s not your fault some psycho guy fixated on you. Not your fault at all.”

  “Are you really all right?” Tasha stepped back just far enough so she could meet his gaze. Wiping her tears, she opened her other senses and gasped. “He hit you! Let me see.”

  “It’s not that bad, darlin’.”

  “You lost consciousness!”

  “How do you know that?” Gord asked. She saw the look on his face, as if she’d thwarted him. Damn man likely wanted to spare me from knowing.

  “Madam Mysterious, remember?” Tasha said. “Now let me have a look.”

  “You might as well make a note right now for the next few decades,” Clay said. “We’re not going to be able to get anything past our woman.”

  “Next few decades?” Gord’s question, and hopeful tone, was directed at Clay. Like her, he’d been a little afraid to really believe the man would come around.

  “Yeah. We’ll talk when we have some privacy.”

  Tasha saw the dried blood on the back of Gord’s head. That was all she had to see. “It’s the clinic for you, mister.”

  From inside the barn, the sound of sobbing—brokenhearted, broken-spirited sobbing—caught their attention.

  Then through the wails, she heard a whine that reminded her of a spoiled little brat. “Why are you doing this to me? I just want to be with the one I love! That big brute tackled me…why am I the one in handcuffs?”

  Connor came to the door of the barn. “Clay, Adam wants to know if you want to come in here?”

  “Yeah. I’ve a mind to
give him something to really cry about.”

  Connor grinned. “I had a foster mom once who used to say that.” Then he looked at Gord and clapped him on the shoulder. “You did a hell of a job, man, making him think you were harmless. He’s also got a bit of a goose egg on his forehead and a broken nose from when you tackled him to the ground.”

  “Good.” Gord looked past Connor and saw Blair, on his knees, hands behind his back. Gord shook his head and nodded toward the prisoner, then looked at his best friend. “That boy in there, Clay? His cheese done slid right off his cracker, so mind yourself.”

  “Noted.”

  Clay headed in to the barn, and Tasha sighed with relief when Gord took her hand and led her in behind him.

  “Clayton! Oh, Clayton! Look what they’ve done to me. Oh, they’ve ruined our reunion!”

  Tasha thought the only word that could describe Blair’s expression as he looked up at Clay was adoration. Then the handcuffed man spotted her and Gord. But it was Gord he focused on. “You! You’re the one who should be in handcuffs! You stole my Clayton!”

  “No.” Tasha looked up at Gord. He nodded, released her, and she went to stand beside Clay. “No one stole him from you. He was never yours to begin with.”

  “Blair, I don’t like men that way. Gord and I are cousins, and best friends. But we’ve never been lovers.”

  “It was going to be so wonderful. You, me, the children. Now…now it’s all just ruined!” Blair began to cry again and Clay sighed. He looked up at Adam. “He really is living in a different reality.”

  “We’re going to take him to Waco. They have facilities there that we lack,” Adam said.

  Clay nodded. “Yeah, he needs help more than he needs punishment.”

  “He’s going to get both. You three go on and get out of here. Gord, we’ll need a statement from you.” Adam sighed. “I can come by your place tonight.”

  “He’s going to the clinic first,” Tasha said. “He was hit on the head and lost consciousness.”

  “We know,” Adam said. He opened his mouth to say something else, then snapped it shut and Tasha wondered what he would have said if Clay hadn’t scowled at him.