Once they were in the air and heading east, Garrett slid into the co-pilot seat while Dalton stayed in the back and made some phone calls to a few of the higher-ups in the Dallas–Ft. Worth Metro area. Wherever Madeline was, it would be flooded with the best cops and SWAT teams around.
“So I finally get to meet this lady of yours, Garrett?”
Garrett grunted and checked how fast Connor was going. Not nearly fast enough. He swiped a hand over his face and tried not to scream. “Yeah, finally.”
“I can’t believe you and Dalton would actually settle down with one lady.”
Garrett thought about Madeline, and images of her flashed his mind—the flush that blossomed under Madeline’s creamy skin when she was aroused and the way her hair looked like living, breathing flames when it danced across her back. Her image was so vivid to him in those brief moments that he could smell her, could see her smile.
He shifted in his seat to distract himself from thinking about her and how much he loved her, about how much he admired her for putting other people before herself. He moved again and again. He could not keep still, no matter how hard he tried. All of the sweet, beautiful images of her were poisoned by his terror for her. Fear permeated his memories of her, staining them. Now, all he could see was Madeline, beaten, bloodied, and broken, and Vincent standing over her with terrible, horrible things he still planned to do to her racing through his sick mind.
He glanced at the airspeed indicator, then at the pilot. “Go faster, Connor. We need to go faster.”
Connor just shook his head. “I’m going as fast as I can. We’re still flying over the city.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Garrett snapped. “Some sick fuck has our woman, and we need to get to her. Now.”
“Garrett—”
But Garrett had already stood and stepped toward his buddy. “Move over.”
“Garrett, I’m down with you piloting this thing, but we’re in mid-flight.”
“Either move faster or get out of my way.”
“All right. You got it. But don’t make me kill your ass because you send us into a tailspin with this goddamn stunt.”
“Just move, Connor.”
Connor unbuckled his harness and transferred the controls to Garrett, who gripped them lightly, not wanting to jerk the chopper, and slid into the seat Connor vacated.
Once he was seated, Garrett immediately revved up the speed. “This baby tops out at one-eighty. We’ll see how she flies going that fast.”
For once his speed demon skills were useful. It was as if everything he learned and experienced was for this moment—to save the love of his and his brother’s lives. They arrived at the failed wind farm just as the sun started dipping below the dark line of the horizon. Garrett landed the helicopter just as Dalton opened the back door and jumped out.
Garrett turned to Connor. “Stay here,” he commanded. “And make good and goddamn sure that fucking bastard does not get on the helicopter.”
Connor just grinned that toothy, shit-eating grin of his, and for a moment, Garrett saw the covert-ops guy behind his professional veneer. “You got it.”
Then Garrett hopped out of the chopper right next to his brother, and he stopped dead. The shafts and blades of the wind turbines were giant skeletons in the deepening darkness, ribs and spines jutting out of the earth in perfect, haunting symmetry. The absolute, almost suffocating, stillness wrapped around him. And when the chopper’s propellers stopped pumping, the silence added to the muffled weight of the night.
“Fuck,” Dalton seethed. “She could be fucking anywhere.”
“We should split up—”
“Over there.” Dalton turned to the left, where a weak beam of light shimmered.
They looked at each other, then sprinted toward the light, their shoes barely crunching over the pebbles and blades of grass under them. Garrett was not worried about not being able to handle Vincent man to man. They would just have to take off their damn dress shoes. They had no traction whatsoever.
With every step that drew them closer to the light, Garrett prayed that Madeline would be all right, that he would be about to feel her little body against his again. His heart raced, and his lungs burned with the need for air, but he was holding his breath, too scared to let it out and face the reality that perhaps Madeline was hurt in some way he and Dalton could not fix.
Please, God. Please, God, please.
They came upon a towering pile of dirt, and they sidled up alongside it until they reached the edge.
Dalton peeked around the corner, then turned to face him again. “I don’t see anything. On my count, we’re going. I’ll take care of Vincent. You just get Madeline the hell out of here. Leave me if you have to. Just make sure she’s safe.”
Garrett held his brother’s gaze for a moment, then nodded.
“One,” Dalton counted, “two…three.”
They rounded the corner and rushed into the open expanse of the empty clearing. Vincent’s car sat about a hundred yards away, the headlights burning into the purple evening. There was nothing around except for a single, erect turbine and a crane with a struggling form attached to it.
“Jesus Christ.” Dalton hurried toward the crane, his head upturned the entire time as if to catch the figure suspended in the still night air.
For a moment, Garrett’s heart stopped beating. His chest felt empty and hollow, as if someone or something had cut it open and left him exposed. Self-preservation kicked in. This was not happening. Madeline was fine. She was alive and waiting for them, and nothing bad happened to her. Fuck, he needed to sit down soon. He was going to—
“Dalton! Garrett!”
Garrett spun around and saw Madeline melting out of the darkness behind Vincent’s car and rushing toward them in her now ruined gown. Her hair hung in clumps about her face, and dirt covered her arms in gray patches. He had never seen her look more beautiful.
“Jesus Christ, Madeline.” Garrett took off toward her, terrified out of his mind that she was hurt. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. He hugged her tight and inhaled her precious scent, filling himself up.
“Garrett, you’re squeezing a little too hard.”
He let out a shaky breath and set her back down, holding her at arm’s length. “Are you all right? What the hell are you doing out there in the dark? How did you get free?”
Madeline smiled up at him and pressed a quick kiss against his lips, then smoothed down the lapels on his tux. “First of all, I’m fine. I’m alive and well, and I’m not bleeding anywhere and nothing’s broken. I promise.”
“You’re sure—”
“Yes, Garrett, I’m fine.” She pinned him with a stern glance. “Now about your other questions. I tried to drive his car away, but as soon as I pulled out of here, I drove over something and got a flat tire, so I’ve been rummaging around trying to find some sort of working radio, but obviously I couldn’t. And now you’re here.”
“Of course we’re here. What did you expect? That we’d just let someone else come for you?”
“Well, what the hell took you so long?”
For a second, Garrett thought the anger on her face was real and he felt like the biggest piece of useless shit in the world. They had not gotten to her fast enough. She must have been terrified out of her mind, especially since she was out here all alone, despite Vincent’s dangling presence. And then the corners of her lips lifted.
“That was dirty.” He grinned. “I like it. You’re really not hurt?”
She shook her head. “I’m absolutely fine. A little on an adrenaline high, to be honest.” She glanced up at the bundle hanging precariously from the crane, and Garrett followed her gaze up.
“How the hell did you get him all the way up there?”
Madeline gave him a triumphant smile. “What can I say? Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.”
“What? What do you mean? Madeline, how did you get free?”
�
��I saved myself.” Madeline’s smile widened. “I remembered how the two of you tied knots to, um, well…to tie me up. When he brought the rope out, I figured that he couldn’t know half the things the two of you do.” She shrugged. “I just waited until he wasn’t paying attention and freed myself.”
Garrett pulled her against him once more, needing the feel of her warm, soft body to ground him to reality. She was real, not a figment of his desperate imagination, and she was alive and unhurt.
When Dalton reached them, Garrett turned her over to him, and not a moment too soon. Dalton’s lips were set in a thin line and his eyes were scarily bright. He wrapped his whole body around Madeline and pulled her tight. Dalton looked like he was barely keeping it together. His whole body was wound up so tight Garrett thought if that if he even breathed on him, Dalton would crumble into a million little pieces.
Madeline pulled back a fraction and ran her fingers along Dalton’s cheekbone until she cupped his face in her palm. “Dalton, look at me. I’m fine.”
Dalton’s hands skimmed her arms, rib cage, and back up to her face. “You’re absolutely sure? We have a family doctor on call twenty-four-seven for us, and we can fly you to any hospital—”
“I’m fine, Dalton. I swear. Just look at me and calm down. I’m fine. I’m not going anywhere.”
Dalton wrapped his arms around her again, this time looking less rigid and a little more relaxed. He pressed his face into her hair and inhaled deeply, and Madeline burrowed against him, burying her face in Dalton’s chest. Garrett stepped right behind her and kissed her shoulder. They stayed together for a few moments, and then Dalton broke the silence.
“Madeline, what happened?”
“I don’t know,” she said against the lapels of Dalton’s tux. “One minute I was answering my door, and the next, I was in the backseat of Vincent’s car. At first I thought everything was all right because I recognized him, you know? And then he started talking about you two and one of your fathers owing him money.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway, I thought the worst, but right now I’m feeling pretty liberated, actually. I mean, I freed myself from the clutches of your evil half-brother.” Her face paled. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so callous. Did you know? Did he tell you?”
“Yeah, he told us. But now’s not the time to talk about everything. You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, Dalton, I’m—”
“Are you sure, Madeline? Are you positive? He didn’t—he didn’t touch you?”
“No. He didn’t. He threatened to, of course, but in the end I don’t know if he would have and I definitely wouldn’t have let him.”
Anger in its purest, most animalistic form rose in Garrett’s gut and made his body temperature spike. He was going to kill Vincent with his bare hands. And he was going to enjoy it.
Dalton pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I’ll take it from here.” He said it so calmly that Garrett was almost fooled. But when Garrett’s gaze met Dalton’s over Madeline’s head, he saw the depths of Dalton’s rage. “Garrett, take her back to the helicopter.”
Garrett had just wrapped his arms around Madeline when Dalton sidestepped her and stalked over to the crane, pure murder written all over him. Dalton was out for more than blood tonight
“Dalton, stop!” Madeline screamed. She tried to break free of Garrett’s grip, but he held her fast. “Garrett, let go of me. I’m not going to have him ruin himself just for Vincent.”
“Vincent deserves everything that’s coming to him,” Garrett shot back. “And then I’m going to take my turn.”
Madeline stopped struggling and looked up at him, her eyes searching his. “Don’t let him do this. It’s what Vincent would want. I’m fine. He didn’t do anything that really hurt me, and he didn’t even touch me in that—that way. I just want to leave with the two of you. I just want to go home with you and move past this.”
“Maddie—”
“Please. Let’s just go. Neither of you will be able to take it back, Garrett. Don’t do something you’re going to regret later. It’s not worth it!”
He fought the truth of her words even as they struck deep. He wanted nothing more than to watch his brother pound the living shit out of Vincent Pierce and then have his go-round, too. If he was completely honest with himself, he would have to admit that he really would not regret inflicting bodily harm in the man who dared lay a finger on the woman he loved. He would get some peace of mind out of it, actually.
But her big, brown eyes were irresistible, even in the dim light. Damn her and her noble, generous spirit. He did not deserve her. He really did not. He rested his forehead against hers, breathing her in. “I love you, Madeline. I don’t know what I would have done if—”
“I’m okay. You’ll never have to worry about that.” She pressed a soft kiss against his lips, and he kissed her back for a moment, then broke it off to go haul his brother back from the brink of something he could never come back from. “Dalton, stop,” he called out as he ran after him.
Dalton already sat in the control seat in the crane, lowering Vincent’s now struggling form to the ground.
Garrett hopped up onto the rig and pressed stop. “Dalton, let’s go. Now. Don’t do this. It’s not worth it.”
Dalton’s head snapped up. “Not worth it? Not fucking worth it? That bastard laid his goddamn hands on her, Garrett. He hurt her, he terrified her, and I will see that he is punished for every single bruise on her body.”
Dalton reached for the controls again, but Garrett pushed his hand out of the way. “Dalton, stop.”
He shot to his feet. “You stop it, Garrett, and get the fuck out of my way.”
“No can do, brother. You’re not going to do this.”
Fuck. The last thing he wanted was to fight with his brother. It always went fifty-fifty as to who would win, but when Dalton won, it was always decisively.
“Move,” Dalton growled between his clenched teeth.
“You’re going to have to make me, Dalton.”
His brother’s fists clenched at his sides, pure aggression and wrath emanating from Dalton’s body in tangible waves. Garrett had never seen Dalton this out of control, this desperately angry. He knew the feeling himself. Life looked pretty damn bleak without Madeline in it.
“Dalton, I know. I know how you feel. I understand. But this isn’t worth it. Back off and calm down. If you’re still wanting to duke it out with him tomorrow, then I’m all for it. But, for now, let’s just get her home.”
Dalton’s eyes squeezed closed, and Garrett saw it all playing over his brother’s face—the guilt, the anger, the terror, the need to avenge any hurt she suffered.
“Dalton?” Madeline voice drifted to them.
They both turned around, and there she stood, a few feet away, looking like a fallen angel.
“Yes, sweetheart?” Dalton answered.
“Please just take me home. I need you to do that.”
Her big, sweet eyes did that same beseeching thing to Dalton that they had done with Garrett, and Garrett knew she would win this round. And many more to come. There was no way in hell they were ever going to let her go now that they knew what they were without her.
Dalton let out a big breath, and Garrett felt the fight go out of his brother. At least for now.
“All right, sweetheart. We’ll take you home.” Dalton pushed past Garrett and jumped out of the crane’s control center and landed pretty damn gracefully for a man in dress shoes. Dalton turned to face Garrett. “Just leave him there. We have guests on the way for him.”
Garrett jumped out of the rig, too, and stayed close on Dalton’s heels as Dalton carried Madeline in his arms to the waiting helicopter. She wrapped her arms around Dalton’s neck, clinging to him the entire time and burying her face in his neck.
Once they were situated, Dalton tucked her body into his and pulled out his cell phone. “Yeah, Chief Anderson. He’s waiting for you. Yes, Vincent Pierce. If you don’t m
ind getting a DNA sample, that would be great. I’ll owe you a favor. And Madeline’s fine. We’ll bring her in to discuss everything tomorrow.”
Garrett watched as Dalton held Madeline in his rigid grip. He had not seen his brother in such a state since their parents died. Dalton held her jealously tight, as if some invisible enemy were trying to rip her from his very arms. Garrett wanted to tell Dalton to loosen up his grip, but when Madeline snuggled closer to him, Garrett changed his mind.
Garrett watched the two of them together and realized that his brother was never going to let her go after this. Dalton fought so hard to deny his feelings toward her, but there could be no fighting them now that they knew what a world without Madeline would be like.
He almost shivered at the thought.
His gaze wandered over her from where her face was buried in Dalton’s neck to where bruises already started forming on her shoulders from where Vincent’s fucking fingers squeezed too hard. Hot, violent anger rose and threatened to break loose inside him. The idea of anyone hurting Madeline made his most primal instincts roar forth. He considered himself a pretty nice guy, but no one touched his Madeline and got away with it. Vincent would fucking pay. He and Dalton would see to that.
Once Dalton hung up, the professional, aloof man disappeared and the man underneath came out. He shook Madeline gently until she straightened and faced him. “Are you all right? Do we need to take you anywhere?”
Madeline shook her head. “I’m okay. Just a little shaken up and disoriented, but I’m fine.”
Dalton pulled her into his chest and buried his face in her hair. Garrett leaned over her, too, and together, he and his brother wrapped themselves around her, shielding her and protecting her.
“He’s never going to touch you ever again. No one will,” Garrett swore fiercely.
“I know,” Madeline whispered. She brushed her fingertips over his jaw, and he pressed his lips into her palm.
Mitchell, Ava and Holiday, Sydney - A Bride for Two Tycoons [The Male Order, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 12
