by Lauren Bach
The thought that she wanted to touch him intimately shocked Tess. She couldn’t deny that his kiss was exciting. That she craved his touch. That she wanted more...
Dear God, what was she doing? She pushed away, confused by her reaction, afraid of how he’d interpret her response. She felt her face flame with embarrassment, glad for the cover of darkness. Why had she let him kiss her, touch her? Why had she touched him?
And worse, how could she enjoy it?
For a long moment the only sound she heard was their breathing. Heavy. Hot. Unsatisfied. Then Dallas reached for her hand, drawing it to his mouth. Ever so gently he pressed a kiss to her open palm and closed her fingers over it.
“There’s no denying that something lies between us, Tess. But I want you to know you’re still safe with me.”
Tess snapped her hand back, grasping for anger to conceal the raw ache. “Safe? You expect me to believe that? There’s nothing between us, Dallas. I’m your prisoner. Period.”
He watched her stalk away, toward the cabin, and gave her space. She was lying. She wanted him. He knew it just as surely as he knew he wanted her. The problem was she knew he knew now. And under the circumstances that bothered her.
* * *
Dallas took another sip of warm beer. The ancient clock above the bar threatened to strike midnight. Behind him pool balls clacked and sank into worn pockets. Last time he checked Snake had been down twenty bucks and was in a foul temper.
Dallas’ mood wasn’t any better. He wanted to get on the road and get back to camp. They’d been gone all day transacting business for Bogen, which was bad enough. Then Snake suggested they stop for a beer, which typically wouldn’t have been an issue.
Dallas had never liked Snake, but he’d always been careful to give him his due as one of the brethren. And Dallas had gleaned a lot of vital information from Snake over the course of his investigation. Drunk, Snake tended to talk too much.
Tonight, though, Dallas wasn’t in the mood. They should have been back hours ago. Tess was most likely miserable. Snake knew it, too. This was just another way to get back at Dallas for keeping her.
Once more Dallas’ thoughts strayed to the woman who was chained to his bed. They had barely spoken since he kissed her two nights ago. The sexual tension between them was tangible, a seething caldron on the verge of boiling over. God, he wanted her, needed her even, the same way he physically needed his next breath.
He glanced at the clock once more, mind made up. He was leaving, with or without Snake, and--
Snake’s voice, from the back of the bar, broke into his thoughts. “You ain’t quitting ‘til I get my dough back.”
Dallas turned, cursing as he caught sight of Snake threatening his opponent with a cue stick. And sneaking up behind Snake was a man with a chair.
“Look out.” Too late, Dallas yelled a warning. The chair crashed across Snake’s lower back, wood splintering.
Snake doubled over and shook his head, then let out a yell before charging the dumbfounded man who’d hit him. The man hadn’t moved, clearly expecting Snake to go down.
Dallas shoved his way into the melee, intent on dragging Snake away even if it meant knocking him out cold. The bartender was already on the phone calling the cops, which meant they probably had less then five minutes to get the hell out.
The wet floor glistened with shattered shards of a beer bottle. A fist glanced off Dallas’ jaw. Dallas grabbed the man who’d thrown the punch, spinning him around and twisting his arm painfully behind him.
“Do that again and I’ll break it,” Dallas hissed.
The front doors swung open and three deputies hurried in. “Freeze! Sheriff’s department!”
“Jesus, he’s breaking my arm.” The man Dallas held started squealing in a high-pitched voice, switching easily from aggressor to victim. “Make him stop! Officer!”
Two of the deputies had weapons drawn. Simultaneously they pointed them at Dallas. “Hands on your head, scumbag.”
Moving slowly, Dallas released the man and did exactly as the deputies instructed. In seconds he was flat on his stomach, his wrists cuffed behind him.
“You guys wanna help me with this one?” the third deputy asked.
Dallas twisted his head, catching sight of Snake standing in the corner, a broken cue stick held threateningly out in front of him.
“Drop the stick, now!” one of the officers commanded.
Snake smiled maliciously. “Why don’t you try and take it?”
The question went unanswered as a fourth officer, who’d crept in the back door, hit Snake on the back of the head with his black baton. Snake crumpled, dropping in an unconscious heap on the floor.
One of the officers radioed for an ambulance while rough hands yanked Dallas to his feet. Shoving him forward against the pool table, another deputy patted him down searching for weapons. They confiscated his knife.
“You’re under arrest, pal.” The deputy grinned, clearly enjoying the feeling of power his badge inferred. “Disorderly conduct. Assault and battery. You have the right to remain silent...”
Dallas knew they were going to jail, knew there was nothing he could do about it. The best he could do was cooperate, act drunk, in hopes they’d get him processed into the local jail as soon as possible. He had a phone call coming, and the sooner he made it the better.
* * *
Tess shifted on the bed, the handcuff chains clanking. This tactic was new. Abandonment? It was nearly two in the morning.
Dallas had never left her this long before. She shifted her arms, trying to burrow further beneath the tangled blankets.
Things had been more stilted than usual between her and Dallas the last few days. He had avoided her since the other night, when they’d watched the deer. He’d even spent the past two nights on the couch, though she knew he wasn’t sleeping. She heard him pace, no more able to sleep then he was. It bothered her more than she cared to admit, for in the final analysis he was her only affirmation that life existed outside her immediate surroundings.
When he was around he barely spoke to her. Of course, she’d started that. She had been mad at him for kissing her. For making her feel things for him that she shouldn’t. But what had made her think the silent treatment would gain her anything?
Dallas held all the cards in this game. More and more it felt as if he held all her emotions as well. Yeah, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But that didn’t change the situation.
Right now she desperately wanted, needed, to see Dallas. And not just for food, or to get up. She needed to know he was coming back.
She heard a noise at the door and strained to listen. Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes. Dallas! Thank God! She struggled to sit up, determined to do whatever it took to make things right between them again. She never wanted to be left alone like this again.
Her apology died on her lips when the door was flung open and the overhead light cruelly snapped on, temporarily blinding her.
“Boo! Bet you thought you’d seen the last of us.” Eddie stood in the doorway, then strolled over to the bed. Duke followed, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
Tess cringed, moving back against the headboard, her range of movement severely limited. “Get out of here!”
“Miss High-and-Mighty thinks she can tell us what to do.” Eddie sneered, his eyes raking slowly over her. “I bet Haynes had fun taking you down a peg or two. Fucked you silly, huh?”
Had? Her mind seized ruthlessly on the word. Past tense. Tess’ heart bumped painfully against her Adam’s apple. “Where’s Dallas?”
Ignoring her question, Eddie swaggered closer holding out a handcuff key. “I’d love it if you gave us some trouble.” He winked lewdly.
The bubble of raw dread that had been building inside her burst as Eddie freed her hands.
“Stand up,” he ordered, grabbing her harshly by the shoulder and jerking her to her feet. “Put your hands behind your back.”
Duke surged forward, shoving
Eddie’s hand away. “He said to let her use the john.”
Tess’ hope soared then just as quickly plummeted. These two men were most likely acting on Bogen’s order. “Please, tell me where Dallas is.”
Eddie’s hand bit into the soft flesh of her upper arm as he propelled her, ungently, toward the door. “All you need to know is he ain’t here, lady.” His lips stretched into a depraved smile. “And we are.”
* * *
When Eddie and Duke took her from the cabin she’d had no idea where they were taking her, or worse, what their intentions were. And her mind readily supplied all the worst-case scenarios.
To her dismay, they locked her in the dark pantry at Bogen’s house. She’d fought and lost. And this time, besides leaving her hands cuffed, they gagged her and bound her ankles with heavy rope.
Perspiration soaked the thin shirt she wore. She had been surprised when they left her untouched.
It seemed she had escaped rape...for the moment at least. But who knew what lay ahead. Thankfully, she hadn’t been drugged, though depending on what happened next, she might wish she had been. She recalled Dallas’ description of enforced servitude, wanting to vomit at the thought of the pain, the abuse that awaited her. White slavery. She wouldn’t be able to withstand it.
She no longer tried to stop the tears from tracking down her cheeks. She felt miserable and frightened, scared of what was to come. And she knew it would be awful. With Dallas she had maintained hope, maintained a belief that in some crazy way it would all work out. Now that hope was gone.
Ignoring the roiling of her stomach, she tried to breathe deeply, fighting the distressing blackness simmering at the edge of her mind. As much as she hated her present predicament, the thought of passing out and waking up in a worse scenario was beyond imagining.
She huddled in the corner, listening for what seemed like hours, but the house remained quiet. Her scattered thoughts turned to Dallas again and again. Why hadn’t he returned? She couldn’t believe he had turned her over to Bogen.
Unless...something had happened to him. Her chest squeezed painfully at the thought. Was he injured, hurt?
Or had he simply tired of her and wanted her out of his life?
No. She refused to believe that. Dallas had been right. There was something between them, a bond, a link. Something more than the ever-present, physical attraction. As much as she tried to deny it or ignore it, it was there.
And only now did she realize how fully she’d come to depend on him for her mental well-being. He’d protected her, nurtured her.
Dallas. He had to be all right. And he had to return for her. For sanity’s sake she held on to that thought.
She felt thirsty and tired, but didn’t dare close her eyes. In the short time she’d been locked up she’d realized a surprising thing about herself: She was a fighter. She’d do whatever it took to survive.
She shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. The pantry was not only unheated, there were several holes in the wooden floor that allowed cold, damp air to waft in from what she assumed was a basement below the house.
A faint noise caught her ear. Holding her breath, she listened. There it was again. A slight scraping sound. Followed by a faint squeak.
God, what if Bogen or one of the others was coming for her? How could she possibly stop them?
The noise repeated itself, and this time she frowned. It almost sounded as if it came from within the pantry. She peered around in the darkness, unable to see much.
Then it moved. And squeaked again.
A rat.
She tried to scream, awkwardly scrambling backwards toward the door. The creature stopped, seemingly frozen in its tracks as it assessed her. She banged her feet on the floor, making as much noise as she could.
The rat retreated and for a moment she thought she’d frightened it off. Until she heard it squeak again.
And heard an answering squeak from its mate.
CHAPTER SIX
By midmorning Dallas and Snake exited the county jail. They were arraigned promptly at nine o'clock and as soon as the judge set bail, Duke posted it.
Getting their motorcycles out of impound, however, wasn't as straightforward.
First they had to wait for the sheriff's department to approve the release, in triplicate, on the proper form. Then someone had to radio the tow-truck operator to find what he had done with the keys.
What little patience Dallas had rapidly disintegrated. For the thousandth time he cursed Snake for his boneheadedness in starting the fight in the first place. And Bogen for insisting that Dallas accompany Snake to oversee a routine money drop. In hindsight, Dallas questioned Bogen's motives for sending him. It almost seemed Bogen hadn't trusted Snake. Which was odd.
Thrusting. on a pair of sunglasses, Dallas silently scrutinized Snake. Snake's mood had not improved with their incarceration. Dallas knew he was hung over, knew he probably had a good size knot on his head from where the deputy had coldcocked him with his baton.
But Dallas didn't feel sorry for him. In fact, he felt like punching him. If it weren't for Snake, he wouldn't have been up all night worrying about Tess.
Duke confirmed that she was at the big house, in the pantry. Dallas' conscience spasmed painfully. Spending the night in jail had been a stinging reminder of what life must be like for Tess. Except his loss of freedom had lasted less then twelve hours. And his captors, while they clearly hadn't liked Dallas and Snake, had acted professionally, observing Dallas' and Snake's rights.
How many times had he heard it said that criminals had more rights then their victims? Hell, he'd said it himself on numerous occasions. It was an awful truth.
He scowled, thinking of Tess, what she was going through now, what she'd been through these past two weeks.
And how easy it would be to free her when he got back. He could wait until dark and leave the compound with her. No one would question him. They could be across the state line in two hours. Or in Canada.
But could he throw it all away for her? God, he wanted to.
He had the power to make it happen, knew she deserved it.
But so did the others. And his honor-damn it-wouldn't let the story unfold any differently.
* * *
Dallas opened the pantry door, his eyes taking in the entire scene.
Tess was huddled next to the door, her legs bound and curled up close to her body. She'd drawn back at first, her face wild with panic. Recognizing him, she'd started crying hysterically, a pathetic, strangled sound coming from behind the gag.
He stepped over her, kneeling directly in front of her, purposely blocking her view of the dead rat in the opposite corner. The rat's head was bashed; there was blood on the heel of her shoe. He could imagine what had transpired. He tugged the gag away and enfolded her in his arms. She buried her head in his shoulder, against his neck, pressing herself as close to him as she could, the force of her sobs shaking her.
There were no words to make it right, but he said them anyway. Hushed promises, quiet assurances. Soothing sounds.
He hugged her, held her, rocked her, until at last her sobs softened to a low keening. In spite of her disjointed words, he was able to confirm that she hadn't been physically harmed by Duke or Eddie; nor bitten or scratched by the rat before she killed it.
After removing the cuffs and freeing her ankles, he massaged her shoulders and arms for a few minutes, restoring blood flow, before pulling her to her feet.
"Can you make it to the cabin?" It was tempting just to pick her up and carry her back, but the slight exercise of walking would probably be good for her.
She nodded, then raised her head, searching his eyes. "I'm sorry for whatever I did," she croaked, voice hoarse. "Don't ever leave me like that again."
He brushed a finger over her lips, then rested his hands on her shoulders wrestling against the urge to swallow her slight frame in a crushing bear hug, to beg forgiveness. "You have nothing to apologize for."
"Then
what did I do to end up here?" A single tear escaped and ran down her cheek. "Is it because-"
"It's nothing you did or didn't do. I got tied up." He looked away briefly not wanting to tell her the truth, afraid that if she knew he'd just gotten out of jail, she'd be even more frightened. "I was worried about you being chained to the bed all night and thought-mistakenly, perhaps-that you'd be better off up here."
His low, caring tone was her undoing. Right now, she'd grant him any wish, forgive him any sin. He'd come back for her, and that was as much as she could focus on for the moment.
Leaning forward, she buried her face in the front of his shirt. Her arms threaded tightly around his waist. "Take me home. Please."
Her surrender almost undid Dallas. Her words echoed in his mind. Home. It was a place he desperately wanted to return to himself.
But after the last eighteen months, he wondered if he even knew the way.
* * *
While Tess showered, Dallas changed clothes. He'd taken a shower before leaving jail, and while he wouldn't have minded taking another, he wasn't about to cuff her again.
Instead he made hot cocoa and filled two mugs. He would have preferred to fix her a hearty breakfast, but knew she was too upset to eat. And he wasn't going to push her. They'd eat later.
Right now he was more worried about her frame of mind.
Last night's experience must have been horrendous. Duke and Eddie coming for her. What had she expected? Rape? Torture? Murder?
Then she'd been locked in that rat-infested pantry. Dallas had hoped Bogen would have the decency to lock her in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Lousy bastard.
When the bathroom door opened, he saw her poke her head out cautiously, as if checking to see that he was still there. She stepped out, her relief tangible.
"Better?" he asked, crossing to offer her a mug.
She nodded, but remained quiet. Didn't seem to understand that he meant for her to take the cocoa.
"Let's get you to bed, then. I know you're exhausted." She shook her head. "No. I'm-" Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, making them appear impossibly bluer. "I don't want to be alone right now."
