He glanced around. Memories of the day she died came flooding back, guilt hitting him like a sledgehammer.
Shaking it off, Flint brushed the events away and walked to his bedroom. The mattresses missing from his bed brought the memories right back. Visions of Lindsey with a bullet to her head was an image that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
His heart went out to her. “I wish I would’ve stayed with you, Lindsey,” Flint said out loud.
“Oh, how touching,” someone said close behind him.
Flint swung around. Ryan Hartford stood pointing a .45 at Flint’s chest.
“What are you doing here?” Flint sneered. Ryan Hartford was pure evil and needed to be put away for life.
“Waiting for you, of course. I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever show up.”
“What do you want?” Flint checked the room for Ryan’s henchmen.
“I’m alone, if that’s what you’re looking to see. The boys wanted to come, but I told them this was something I needed to take care of myself. You see, I’ve been dreaming about this day for a long time now, Morgan.”
“What are you talking about?” Flint wondered if Hartford had finally lost his mind.
“I’m going to kill you. And, it’ll not only be for stealing my girlfriend, which,” Ryan laughed wickedly, “will warrant a shot to your incredible cock, that little tidbit according to Lindsey’s diary. Apparently you were the best she ever had between her legs. I have to admit that was quite a blow to my ego, but Lindsey paid with her life, and so will you. But that’s only the beginning. Your death will be a tribute to my father, who died at the hands of yours. I intend to make you suffer, Morgan, then—I’ll kill you. So where should I start? Hum.” Hartford pierced him with his intense stare. “Maybe we should read from Lindsey’s diary. What do you think?”
Flint glared at him. Could he get to the gun in Hartford’s hand before he could get a shot off?
“Cat got your tongue? What did Lindsey say about that tongue of yours? Wait—I’ll find it.” Ryan leafed through the book in his hand.
“Hartford you’re a real piece of work. Lindsey loved you until you asked her to screw someone else for you. Why would any woman care for someone who’d asked a thing like that? She was obviously hurt and turned her affection toward me. She didn’t love me, she didn't even know me, she just needed a man to make her feel good about herself again, not cheap like you did.” Flint found it hard to stay in control of his anger. The mere sight of Ryan Hartford disgusted him.
“Save it for Oprah.” Ryan pushed the barrel of the gun into Flint’s chest, sending a chill down his spine. “Sit down,” he hissed. “How long do you think it will take for that gorgeous blonde partner of yours to come looking for you? An hour? Two? You see, I thought about having a little piece of her when she was under my roof, but she caused too much trouble at the time. But I was very impressed by her attributes, real I might add, according to what she told my men. And that tight little ass of hers is nice, too. I wouldn’t mind a piece of it.”
Flint sprung at him, but was stopped by the barrel of Ryan’s gun shoved up to his nasal passages. “I could go ahead and kill you right now, and I’d still have your girlfriend. But I want you to watch when I do. Who knows, she might find she likes it the way I take her. You know some women like it rough.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Flint said in a deadly tone.
The man’s eyes turned black, like his heart. “Who’s the one with the gun, Morgan? I’m going to kill you, but first we’re going to have a little fun.”
Flint held his temper in check. Ryan Hartford was crazy and you couldn’t reason with a man like that. He’d bide his time, wait for Hartford to let his guard down, then he’d see that the man never walked again.
* * *
Adriana paced her apartment, glanced at the clock on the wall for the tenth time in the past half hour, then continued to pace.
“Where the hell are you, Flint?”
He’d been gone for almost two hours now and she was sick with worry. She bit nervously at her bottom lip, contemplating if she should go look for him. Fifteen minutes, that was all she’d give him, then she’d go out and search. Maybe she should call Billy. Maybe he could call his friend at Denver P.D. and find out if Flint was picked up. No. There was no way they would have arrested Flint again, not after what they did to him. That whole mess was still pending investigation. “Damn it, Flint. Why didn’t you let me go with you? Now I’m walking a hole in my rug worried to death.”
Adriana’s mind drifted back to the tub. Flint was incredible. She couldn’t get enough of him. Her stomach had been upset, but one kiss and she’d completely forgotten about it, concentrating only on the pleasure his body gave hers. She needed him like her body needed water. He flowed through her and quenched a thirst only he could.
She sighed deeply, then quickly ran to her bedroom to change. Her mind screamed that she had to find him. Something was wrong. She knew that instinctively in her gut, and she wouldn’t feel a sense of relief until she found him.
After calling for a taxi, Adriana rode to Flint’s apartment. She hoped the sick feeling was just her imagination working overtime.
She paid her fare, and got out, noting her Porsche parked across the street. A heavy weight lifted at the sight of it. She had worried for nothing. But now she was angry. She had tried to call him at his apartment right before she’d left, but got no answer. Was there a problem with his phone?
She opened the building door and turned to go to the elevators.
Flint was going to get it for this. He was never going to leave her side again.
The ride up seemed to take a lifetime. Adriana went over everything she was going to say. By the time they headed back to her apartment he was going to know who was boss.
She smiled with satisfaction as she walked down the hall to Flint’s door. Adriana unlocked the door with her extra set of keys, intending to rip Flint up for making her worry.
“Flint Morgan you are in big trouble,” she said, then stopped dead in her track when she saw Flint sitting in a chair in the middle of the living room. “What’s going on?”
A cold metal object stuck in her back as the door slammed behind her.
“Nice to see you again, Miss Kent. I was hoping you’d drop by.” Adriana turned around, swallowing hard when she saw it was Hartford holding a revolver.
“What’s this all about?” Adriana glanced at Flint, who she could see now had his hands tied behind his back. Dread hit hard, making her stomach roll again.
“Morgan and I have a few things to settle. The first on the list-- to screw his girlfriend like he did mine.”
Adriana felt the blood drain from her face. She glanced at Flint, who was fighting now to get out of his restraints.
“You so much as touch her Hartford and I’ll make you pay with your life,” Flint shouted.
Hartford rolled his eyes. “Again, who has the gun here? You’ll have no say in what I do or don’t do to your woman. Like I said, she might even like it. Who knows?”
Hartford grabbed Adriana by the arm and twisting it around her back, sending her to her knees. Adriana cried out in pain as he continued to bend her arm. “Now we’re going to have some fun.” Hartford ripped at the back of her blouse, tearing it to shreds.
“Goddamnit, Hartford!” Flint thrashed in the chair. Adriana covered her chest with her hands as a tear slipped down her cheek. Hartford pulled her up and clapped his hand on her breast, squeezing it painfully.
“Damn. They are real,” he said turning to Flint. “I’m going to have a good time with your little whore, then I’m going to kill you both.” Hartford slapped Adriana hard across the face, sending her backwards, falling to the floor.
Stunned, Adriana looked up and watched Hartford unbuckle his belt, then unzip his pants.
Ryan smiled wickedly at her. “I may not have the huge penis your boyfriend has, but it’s not the size that counts anyway, it’s how y
ou use it.”
Adriana scrambled to get away, but was stopped when Hartford pulled her back by her hair. Tears sprang to her eyes, but Adriana refused to give into the pain. She’d die before she allowed Ryan Hartford to rape her. She heard Flint behind her cursing, clearly fighting to get out of the ropes. In his weakened state, he would probably be helpless to break free.
Hartford grabbed her arms and brought them above her head as he straddled her waist. Adriana arched up, trying to knock him off balance. She had to fight or he’d win. Stay calm. There was no way to overpower him, she’d have to wait and hope for a chance to knee him hard in the groin. That would be her only hope of escape. A sick, sadistic look covered Hartford’s face. The man was insane and she would have to be crazy herself to think she could talk him out of what he planned to do with her. She’d try a different tact. Maybe if she pretended to enjoy his advances, he’d relax enough to give her the opportunity to cripple him.
Adriana swallowed as Ryan hands ran over her breasts. Bile rose in her throat. She had to hide her contempt. He wouldn’t lower his guard if she didn’t. Playing along with Hartford, Adriana moaned as if she enjoyed his touch.
“Oh, baby,” Ryan said hoarsely.
“Get off her you piece of shit.” Flint distracted Ryan just long enough to give Adriana the time to bring her knee up and gouge him in the groin. She received an agonizing grunt from him for her efforts. She jumped up, then took off at a run, only to slip, skidding on the floor, trying to get to Flint.
Firm hands snaked out to grasp her around the ankle, sending her sprawling back to the ground.
A click of a gun brought both her and Hartford around to find Flint now free from his restraints. He held Hartford’s gun in his hands.
“Let her go, asshole, unless you want me to shot you.”
Hartford’s eyes turned black with fury. He didn’t look fazed by Flint having his gun.
“Call the police, Dray.” Flint didn’t bother to look at her, but continued to watch Hartford intently.
Adriana eased herself up and limped over to the phone, then heard a scuffle from behind and turned to see Hartford wrestling with Flint for the gun.
Her piercing screams filled the room when a shot rang out, ringing in her ears until it was almost deafening.
Time moved in slow motion as Adriana watched both Flint and Hartford go down, the beige carpeted floor turning crimson beneath them.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Flint stared down at the headstone he’d just placed a single white rose on. Lindsey Irene Warren’s name was there with two, in-flight doves on either side.
He took in a deep, emotional breath.
“I thought I should come by and tell you Ryan’s dead. He deserved to die after what he did to you. I also wanted to say how sorry I am for leaving you that day in my apartment. It was selfish and it cost you your life. Please forgive me. I hope now that Hartford is gone, you can rest peacefully.”
With emotion clogging his throat, he turned and headed back to his car. He needed to get this off his chest. Lindsey would be his angel in heaven, and he prayed she’d finally be at peace.
Jumping into his Cobra, he slipped on his sunglasses and drove to Adriana’s apartment, turning over in his mind the events that had brought about Ryan Hartford’s death.
Flashes of Hartford grabbing for the gun. Their struggle. The gunshot. Ryan had fallen on top of him, knocking him down. Blood had soaked Flint’s shirt before he’d known who was shot, blood he found later was from the bullet Hartford received to the left ventricle of his heart, a wound that killed him in a matter of minutes. But before Ryan died, he spat out words Flint would never forget, words from a man who was clearly filled with hatred, even to the very end.
“I’ll see you in hell, Morgan,” Hartford said right before he took his last breath.
The police and ambulance then arrived, statements were taken and the Denver police apologized profusely for the error—a mistake they would have to pay dearly for.
Flint smiled at the thought.
As he pulled in front of Adriana’s apartment building, he pushed the tragic memories from his mind. Maybe he and Dray could buy a house together, one with a white picket fence, a backyard where they could plant a small garden.
What the hell? Next thing he’d be wanting was a couple of kids and a nine-to-five job. That wasn’t Flint Morgan’s style. Was it? He no longer knew.
He walked up the concrete path, hoping Adriana was feeling better. That darn stomach bug of hers seemed to be hanging on forever, though she’d always warm up in bed to make love. In fact, they had earlier that morning. Maybe he could talk her into a repeat performance.
Flint smiled again, this time a full-blown grin, as he got on the elevator and punched number eleven.
* * *
Adriana eased herself to the edge of the bed to answer her phone. Her stomach pitched and rolled. She wished she’d just hurry up and die. That’s how bad she felt.
“Hello,” she answered in a weak voice, then swallowed, trying hard to control her rebellious stomach.
“Yes, Ms. Kent this is Dr. Evans’ assistant down at the clinic. I’m calling to let you know we got your test results back.”
“Right. It’s the flu isn’t it?” It had to be a stomach virus. Adriana just wanted confirmation.
“No, but we ran a pregnancy test, and it came back positive.”
“What?” Adriana was sure she’d heard the woman wrong.
“The blood test confirmed that you’re pregnant, Ms. Kent. Dr. Evans would like you to schedule an appointment for a pregnancy consultation. He’d like to go over your options.”
Adriana was totally speechless.
“Are you still there, Ms. Kent?” the assistant asked.
“Yes, I’m here. I’m just a little surprised and overwhelmed right now. Could I call you tomorrow and schedule that appointment?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.” Adriana hung up the phone.
She sat in a daze, stunned by her obvious condition. Now that she thought about it, she should have realized it herself. Sick in the mornings. When had she had her last period? It had been a few weeks before their little escapade on the Bearskin rug.
She was going to have a baby—a little baby Flint. Oh no. What would he say when she told him that her stomach flu was none other than their child alerting them to his presence.
Oh, God. He was going to bolt. Run so far away she’d never see him again.
Flint Morgan a father. The notion was preposterous. Adriana could picture it now, Flint sitting in a rocking chair, their baby in his arms with his 9mm strapped to his side. No. It wouldn’t work. He’d never be able to leave the DNS behind. And he certainly could never work a nine-to- five job, one in which would keep him tied to one place, one woman for any length of time. She couldn’t do that to him. He’d be miserable.
“Why the long face?” Flint asked from the doorway, making her almost jump off the bed. “Did Saks cut up your credit card?”
When had he gotten there? Had he overheard her phone conversation? She didn’t think so. He seemed too calm. She was sure he didn’t know she was carrying his child.
“No. I…ah. I need to talk to you, Flint.”
“Fire away.”
Oh how she’d love to do just that. Why the hell couldn’t he have been firing blanks? Now she was carrying his baby—a child she didn’t think he’d be happy about.
She knew what she had to do.
“I think it’s time we both considered seeing other people,” she began.
His jaw dropped. “What? I don’t want to see anyone else, Dray. I thought you and I were happy with this arrangement.”
“Well, I’m not.” Adriana was trying desperately not to cry.
“Oh, I see where this is going.” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “You want to tie the noose around my neck, right? Get hitched?”
“Tie the noose? What does that mean?” Her anger flared. “Don�
��t flatter yourself. Who’d want to be tied to the likes of you anyway?” She snorted with disgust. “You egotistical, ignorant, horse’s ass.”
Flint looked hurt by her cutting words. “Okay, what the hell is going? I leave you this morning, after making love for hours I might add, and come back to Satan’s bride. Have you been possessed, woman?” He looked generally stunned by her sudden turnabout.
Adriana wanted to cry but forced herself to continue the act. “I want you out. I want to pursue other options.”
“You want to pursue other options?” he repeated, his eyes narrowing on her.
The phone rang, and Adriana tried to get to it before Flint did.
Too late. He grabbed the receiver and placed it up to his ear.
“Yeah, who is this?” he shouted. “Dr. Who? Prenatal what?” Flint glanced at Adriana and scowled. “Is that right? And how far along is she? I see. Okay, thank you.”
He ended the call, and placed the phone back onto its cradle. “When were you going to tell me? Or were you planning to at all?”
“Flint, I…ah--”
“Save it. You didn’t think I’d want to know I was going to be a father?
“I… ah--”
Flint held up his hand in protest. “I don’t want to hear your excuses.” He stalked to the door, then turned back to her, his face a mask of composure.
“I’ll be back in two hours. You’d better be ready.”
Adriana had known Flint long enough to see that he was furious, even with his calm demeanor.
“Ready for what?” She was confused.
“Just put on your best dress and be ready.” He turned and stalked out the door.
“Be ready for what?” she yelled after him.
“You’ll see.”
* * *
Flint studied his reflection in the mirror, turning his head to the side, noting the afternoon shadow lightly covered his jaw line.
Her Man Flint Page 16
