by Lauren Bach
“Where are we?” she demanded, teeth chattering. “And what are you going to do to me?” She hated that her voice sounded watery, hated the choking lump of fear in her throat.
“I won’t hurt you, Tess.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper. “And I’ll do my best to make sure no one else does either.”
She stared at him, unable to reconcile his sincere tone with his deeds. Then the meaning behind his words hit, freezing the blood inside her veins. She was in danger here, danger he might not be able to protect her from. I’ll do my best.
And if his best wasn’t good enough?
Dallas reached up to touch her again, then stopped his hand midair. She looked stricken, but it made no sense to coddle her. Not now. The worst of it still lay ahead.
Unfortunately, the night had taken a different twist for both of them, and there was no turning back. His options had been severely limited the moment Snake pulled up. He didn’t like it any more then she did. The trick would be remembering not to take it out on her, even though, damn it, it was partly her own fault. If she had paid a little more attention to her gas gauge...
“I know you’re frightened,” he continued. “But right now your well-being depends on how well you listen. You must do everything I tell you, without questioning it.”
She scowled at him, temper flaring. “Go to hell! You have no right bringing me here. I’ll see that you’re arrested and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. All of you.”
He looked away briefly, then pinned her with narrowed eyes. “Seeing as there’s no cop around, you’ll forgive me for not quaking in my boots. Tess, whether you realize it or not, I’m your best hope of getting through this; the only protection you’re likely to find. Trust me.”
There were those two words again. “Why should I trust you?”
Ignoring her question, Dallas lifted her off the motorcycle. Their bodies touched as he slid her down his length in a blatant show of masculine power. When her feet touched the ground she pushed away. He caught her arms, holding her tethered, closer than she wanted to be, silently daring her to test him.
She met his stare. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Shifting his position only slightly, Dallas neatly spun her around so her back was to his chest. Too late she realized his intention as he grasped her wrists and pulled them behind her.
“No! You don’t need to do this.” She fought in earnest, struggling to prevent him from cuffing her hands again, twisting her head, trying to watch him. “I promise I won’t cause any more trouble.”
“It’s for your own protection. So’s this.” Dallas stuffed a piece of cloth into her mouth and secured it with a bandanna.
Protection? She didn’t need his brand of protection, she needed to get away from him. She bucked her shoulders, trying to break free, but Dallas held her fast, knotting the cloth tightly.
The gag stifled, and for a moment she thought she wouldn’t be able to breathe. She felt his warm breath at her ear as he rubbed his hands briskly over her upper arms. “I know you’re cold. I promise I’ll get you warm as soon as this is over.”
Over, she wanted to scream. When would it be over? She tried to talk through the gag, but only indecipherable sounds came through. She tugged uselessly at the tight cuffs, scarcely able to move her arms. Angry, she kicked backwards, landing two solid blows to his shin.
Swearing, Dallas gripped her shoulders and snapped her body hard against his chest. It was like slamming against a brick wall. There wasn’t an ounce of softness on his frame. She gritted her teeth in frustration.
“Give it up, Tess,” he whispered harshly. “If I have to, I’ll hog-tie you and carry you in.”
Even though his leg smarted where she’d caught him off guard, he wasn’t angry. Her show of spunk, however small, encouraged him. It would help her survive. He looked at her, taking in her bowed head, her muffled sobs. The lady didn’t like people to see her cry. He respected that.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, giving her a moment to pull herself together. The part of him that wasn’t royally pissed at her longed to comfort her, tell her everything would be okay.
Except it wasn’t going to be. The best he could hope for was that Bogen would indeed let him keep her.
He had one ace up his sleeve: Bogen owed him a favor. If Bogen agreed, Dallas could offer her some protection. She’d be a prisoner for now, but it beat the hell out of the alternatives.
He stared at her, guilt knifing a dull blade through his stomach. He didn’t like seeing her like this, scared, fragile. He recalled his first glimpse of her. A foolish blond angel stranded by the side of the road. Damn if she hadn’t shaken his equilibrium. Kissing her hadn’t helped. Even her resistance tasted sweet, soft. He’d wanted more but hadn’t dared take it. He’d already violated several rules he’d normally never break.
And she was far from normal. Though she had tried to hold herself back from him, he’d felt her firm curves as they rode. She had a fabulous body -- which wouldn’t go unnoticed by Bogen. He needed to be prepared to do some fast talking if Bogen decided he wanted to send her to Sanchez.
She stood warily in his arms, still shivering. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her unresisting form tight, dropping his voice. “I meant what I said earlier. It’s very important you do everything I say. Your life depends on it.”
She tried to argue, but her words were unintelligible with the gag.
“I know it’s crazy to ask,” Dallas continued, “but you’ve got to believe me.”
He pulled her up the same path Duke and Eddie had used, deliberately slowing his pace to match hers. They reached a clearing before a ramshackle two-story farmhouse. Dim yellow light poured from the front windows.
A man stepped out from the shadows, armed with a nasty-looking assault rifle. The guard nodded to Dallas. “Bogen’s expecting you.”
As they passed, the guard scrutinized Tess intently. Too intently. The look on his face repulsed her. She inched closer to Dallas and felt the slight tightening of his hand on her forearm. Silently she admitted she did feel safer with Dallas than any of the others.
Dallas led her into the front room, where Duke and Eddie huddled around a desk, speaking in low tones. Behind the desk sat a large, dark-haired man. Even though it was night, the man in the chair wore sunglasses. Bogen?
She could feel his eyes dissecting her. She met his stare, trying unsuccessfully to see behind the glasses. Dismissing her, Bogen turned and listened once more to Eddie.
Tess quickly scanned the rest of the room, searching for avenues of escape, finding none. The other furniture in the room, a stained sofa and four ragtag recliners, circled around a large-screen television.
She glanced back at the desk, then quickly dropped her head to hide her excitement. On a scarred credenza behind the desk sat a telefax machine. If she could somehow get to it and use the phone!
Hoping to appear nonchalant, she looked at the adjacent room. Probably a dining room in another time, the room now held a pool table. The windows were boarded shut. There appeared to be nowhere to run in that direction. She glanced furtively back at the desk. The telephone on the fax machine was her best chance. The problem would be getting the opportunity to use it...before it was too late.
Would Dallas help her? If he could distract the others and buy her just a few moments alone with the phone--
The room grew quiet as Bogen suddenly pushed out of his chair and stood. An obese man, Tess wondered how he managed to move with such ease. Bogen’s attention shifted back to her, cold and calculating, stripping her, assessing her, making her feel violated. Her mouth dried in revulsion, her senses screaming like an activated burglar alarm.
Bogen radiated hostility. And at the moment that hostility was directed at her. Her skin crawled in a new direction under his gaze. Snake seemed like a gentleman compared to Bogen.
She backed away until she ran into Dallas. His hand
clamped over her shoulder, pinning her in place.
“Nice,” Bogen said, nodding. He stepped forward and tugged her jacket apart, scrutinizing the thrust of her breasts. Tess held her breath, expecting to feel his hands grope.
“I see why she’s caused such a stir. We need to talk. Privately.” Taking their cue, Duke and Eddie started for the door, but Bogen stopped them. “Lock her up, Duke.”
Lock her up? Tess started to scramble away as they closed in. She skittered to the right, but found herself tethered by Dallas’ firm grip. Damn Dallas and his lies! Damn them all!
When Duke grabbed her and tugged, she swung out her leg and tried to kick him.
“Pop her,” Bogen ordered.
Ceasing her struggles, Tess steeled herself for a blow, but none came. Instead Duke stepped away, toward the desk, leaving her to watch incredulously as he retrieved a small glass vial and a hypodermic needle from a drawer. Their intent became clear.
She shrank backwards, her eyes never leaving Duke. If they drugged her, they could do anything to her, with her. She’d be helpless. But what could she do to stop them? It was four against one and she was starting...to feel...faint.
She blinked rapidly, aware that she was hyperventilating, the gag impeding her breathing. She felt Dallas slide an arm around her waist.
“No needles,” he said firmly.
Tess sagged against his arm.
“I’ll give her six of these.” Dallas held up a prescription bottle. “She won’t give you any trouble after that. Eddie, get some water.”
Turning her to face him, Dallas grasped Tess’ chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “If you don’t swallow these, we’ll use the other. Choose wisely.”
Once again Tess faced an impossible choice. She’d seen the hypodermic Duke held. The needle wasn’t even capped. It obviously wasn’t sterile and had probably been used before. What ghastly disease would she get from it? And who knew what drug was in the vial?
She caught a glimpse of the bottle Dallas held. A tranquilizer. Or so the label read. Her mother had used them on more than one occasion. And while Tess had never taken it, she knew it was a common prescription. But six of them?
“I’ll loosen your gag so you can swallow,” Dallas continued. “Then it’s going right back on. I don’t want to hear one word.”
She glared at him, but nodded. As soon as he freed her of the gag, she took a sip of water to wet her mouth. She heard the rattle of pills as Dallas opened the container, shook out pills, then held them close to her mouth. She shot him one more murderous look, then glanced at his palm.
Three pills.
She looked up, hoping for a sign, receiving none. Instead he shoved his hand even closer. Confused, she opened her mouth and took the small, bitter pills. She could have sworn he said he was giving her six pills. Had he practically shoved them down her throat so the others wouldn’t see there were only three?
As soon as she swallowed Duke moved up and replaced her gag. Just that quickly Duke pulled her away.
Dallas watched her leave, careful to keep any emotion from showing on his face. He knew she felt betrayed. He’d purposely tried to cultivate her trust and now this. She had to be out of her mind with fear, imagining the worst.
What she didn’t know was how important it was for him to play along with the game. There were more lives at stake than just hers.
“I’m eager to hear your side of the story,” Bogen began when they were alone. “Duke says you found her on Pitmann Highway and Snake’s staking a claim on her. Seeing as you both know the rules, I’m curious why she’s even here.”
“She’s not local. She ran out of gas, and I stopped to help her. She was demonstrating her gratitude when Snake crawled along. I had planned to roll her, then give her a lift to Jeb’s, which would have been the end of the story. Except Snake had to horn in.”
Bogen shook his head. “That jackass.”
“He said he’d take her if I didn’t. By then she had 9-1-1 written all over her face. I knew I couldn’t let her go and risk the chance she’d call the sheriff.”
Swearing, Bogen moved back toward his desk, the chair groaning loudly as he settled his bulk. “That damn sheriff’s dying for a reason to come back out here. Where’s her car? And where the hell is Snake?”
“The car’s in Lake Summer. Snake said he had business in Jordan.”
“Blast him!” Bogen slammed his fist on the desk, the sound echoing in the room.
The silence swelled for a moment, then Bogen cleared his throat. “Under the circumstances, you did the right thing. We’ll ship her to Canada and let Sanchez handle it. I--”
“I’m keeping her, Bogen.”
Dallas’ statement stretched between the men like a taut rope in a game of mental tug-of-war.
Bogen fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. Inhaling sharply, he blew out a geyser of smoke. “I’ll be damned. I was beginning to wonder about you, Haynes. One of ‘em finally got under your skin.”
Dallas snorted. “She has me intrigued. That’s all.”
“You’ve never shown much interest in the women here.”
“I don’t share.”
“So you’ll want her for yourself?”
“Completely.”
“That means you’re responsible for her. She’s a piece of high-class ass, which spells pure fucking trouble.” Bogen leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk. “We both know I owe you one. This would even the score.”
Dallas nodded once.
“I’ll think about it,” Bogen said finally. “Grab a beer and let’s hear the news from Sanchez.”
Dallas made his way through the dining room and into the kitchen, relieved that Bogen hadn’t flat out denied his request. He eyed the heavy padlock on the pantry door as he opened the refrigerator and grabbed two long necks.
The pantry served as a makeshift prison. She was in there he knew. Asleep, he hoped. The drug he’d given her would be kicking in right about now. If it didn’t knock her out, she’d be sleepy as hell. He would have liked to go to the door and offer reassurance. But he didn’t. Too damn risky.
Instead he slammed the icebox door and hurried out of the kitchen. He hated this part of the job. Taking care of business whether he wanted to or not. In a perfect world he would have preferred to take Tess back to his cabin, try to soothe her fears privately. Hell, in a perfect world they would have met under different circumstances. But his world was far from perfect.
After handing Bogen a beer, Dallas recounted the details of his meeting with Sanchez. Bogen and Sanchez were both hard-core criminals, but Sanchez called the shots, monitoring Bogen’s illicit activities in the Pacific Northwest. Sanchez, however, was not the top man. That man, the cartel’s leader, operated out of South America.
Bogen listened as Dallas repeated the message, the only clue to his tension the white-knuckled grip he kept on the beer bottle.
“So Sanchez knows we’ve got a leak, but he’s still not sure where?” Bogen laughed bitterly. “We’ve known that for months. How the hell does he intend to fix it?”
Dallas shrugged. “He didn’t say. He said he needed additional time to flush the pipes and that he’s holding off on future shipments until the problem is resolved.”
“That sonofabitch! How long does he think that will take?”
“A few weeks at the most. He wants you to lie low until he contacts you again.”
Bogen leaned back from the desk, his face a mottled crimson. “So now he thinks he can tell me how to run my operation. Bastard! Did you tell him where to shove it?”
Dallas shifted, hooking one leg over the arm of the couch. “I considered it, except I know you don’t like anyone putting words in your mouth. I figure if you’ve got a message for Sanchez, you’ll see that he gets it.”
And Dallas hoped he’d be the one sent to deliver it. If Sanchez were going into hiding, Bogen would be the one man who’d know where. Dallas knew Sanchez would hide at the cartel�
��s South American headquarters. Which was the last piece of the puzzle.
Draining his bottle, Bogen stood. “You’re right, as usual, Haynes. But the girl stays here until I talk with Snake.”
Dallas took a pull of his own beer. Disappointment soured the taste. “Just do me a favor and keep Snake away from her. That bastard’s interfered in my life one time too many.”
Knowing there was nothing more he could say, Dallas strode out of the house and into the night.
* * *
Tess had no idea how much time passed since she’d been locked in the pantry. Earlier she’d heard someone in the kitchen. Muffled voices had floated in from the living room, but she couldn’t distinguish the words. Then the house grew quiet. Eerily so.
The pills she’d been forced to swallow were making her drowsy and once again she wondered exactly what drug she’d been given. It was difficult to focus. She struggled against the mental fog, afraid that if she drifted off, she’d never wake up. Or wake up in a worse predicament.
And certain scenarios were indeed worse than others. The thought of being gang-raped was abominable. Especially since she was a virgin. Such cruel irony to lose something brutally that she’d been saving for a nonexistent Mr. Right.
The idea of Snake and his cronies touching her made her want to vomit. Death almost seemed preferable. Almost...
Dallas! If ever she needed to believe he might help her, it was now. He seemed her only hope of salvation, and the thought of not seeing him again was unbearable. She wouldn’t survive if left at Bogen’s mercy.
She shook off a wave of lethargy, fighting the effects of the drug, forcing herself to concentrate on her physical discomfort to stay awake. Her head throbbed where she’d slammed against the water heater when Duke shoved her inside the pantry. Her jaw hurt from the gag; it interfered with breathing, swallowing.
She shifted, trying to move her cramped arms to a more comfortable position. Drugged or not, she needed to be ready to bolt at the first opportunity, taking any avenue of escape.
A sound caught her ears and she strained to listen, pulse drumming. The sound repeated itself. It took a moment before she realized someone was coming in a door, probably the back door. When the kitchen light snapped on, thin lines of light shone through the louvered pantry door.
