Safeguarding Miley

by Melissa Kay Clarke

  "Mr. Hoxha? Is everything all right? Did Artemis make a turn for the worse?"

  A string of words erupted from his lips, all in another language, and they didn't sound pleasant. Miley took another step back as he pushed into her space.

  "You let that fshatar touch what is mine!" His eyes were wide, and spittle flew from his lips.

  "Fshatar? I don't und..."

  "Peasant. Laborer. You're to be my princess, mine and you let him touch you. I know what you did. Lavire. You acted like a prostitute, spreading your legs for him on the side of a public road."

  Miley didn't have to ask what lavire was. She could guess from the rage radiating off him. "I go and do what I want. You can't control me. I told you I didn't want to date you and I'm damn sure not going to marry you."

  His laughter was harsh and held no mirth. "You do not choose to marry me. I choose." Placing his hand on her chest, he pushed harshly forcing her to fall into the bench seat of her dining table. Looking behind him, Loran spoke to someone in a low tone then dropped into the seat opposite to her.

  "Wait, how did you know that? Were you following me?"

  "Po, of course, I had you followed. You're mine, lule e vogël. You're my little flower, my princess. Mine."

  The man with Loran sat a duffle bag on her bed. He opened her closet and began to pull her clothing from the hangers.

  "Hey. Stop that!" Miley stood. "Those are my things!"

  "Sit down," Loran roared. He grabbed her arm and forcefully pulled her back to the bench. "You're moving to the ranch."

  "I can't. This is my home, my practice."

  Loran slashed his hand through the air. "No more. You will not need to work any longer. We will be married immediately. You will take care of the animals for me and none others."

  For the first time since that night with Jacob, Miley felt body-numbing fear twist her stomach into knots. Swallowing hard, she attempted to reason with him. "Loran, please, you don't want someone who doesn't want you. You should marry a woman who loves you."

  "Love is not necessary." He shot to his feet as his henchman walked out of the trailer with Miley's things in the bag. Loran looked around the space with a disgusted snarl on his lips. "You will never have to live in this poverty again. You will wear beautiful things and be taken care as the wife of a Hoxha should be."

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her down the steps and to a car idling beside her truck. The henchman opened the door, and Loran pushed her inside. Immediately, she pulled on the door handle, but it was locked. Loran slid into the seat next to her as the door closed. "You cannot escape."

  Panic filled her. "Loran, see reason. This is wrong! What will your brother say?"

  He turned his dead gaze to her. "Tariq has questions of his own for you. He wants to know who those men are that you saw tonight. Think carefully about your story, lule e vogël. You will be marrying me tomorrow. It would be a shame if you were not your most beautiful for your wedding day. If Tariq does not believe your story..." he let the words fall away. With a motion toward the driver, he settled back.

  Miley slid as far as she could get from Loran, wishing there was a way to let Alcide know she was in trouble.

  The freckle.

  She slid one hand behind her back and felt for the little bump. Presently, her fingers found it, still on the place on her lower back where Alcide had placed it this afternoon. She had forgotten it was there and prayed he was right in thinking it was waterproof. There was a little pilling from the silicone, but the button seemed to have stayed in place. Pressing down on the center as hard as she could, she mentally counted to five before letting up. She hoped the button was still functioning. She hoped Alcide's friend was listening. Most of all, she hoped with everything she had that Alcide would find her before she ended up dead or worse, married to the monster sitting beside her.

  Cowboy was lost in a beautiful dream where he was carefully exploring every curve of Miley's supple body. In it, they were sitting on the sun-baked sand of his favorite beach located in a secluded cove north of Palisades. He'd found it while out running one morning and it had become a place he could go to get out of his head after missions. In his dream, he couldn't wait to show it to her.

  She was laid out beneath him as the sun splashed vibrant rainbows in the darkening sky. At this moment she was the siren he had once considered her, splayed out in sun-kissed splendor like a feast for him. Bared for his perusal, he couldn't tear his eyes from the perfection of her body writhing seductively as she begged silently for his touch. And touch her he did. He could feel her warm skin beneath his fingers as they glided over her. The taste of salt burst on his tongue as he kissed and licked his way up her form.

  "Alcide," she sighed his name. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. His name on her lips was akin to angel song, and it made his body harden for her.

  "I'm here, love," Cowboy whispered as he kissed his way up from her navel to between her breasts. "What do you need?" he asked as his lips brushed the edges of her tattoo.

  Her eyes opened, and she raised her head to gaze at him. Sliding her hands into his hair, she pulled his head up until his eyes were fastened on hers. "I need you to help me."

  Cold swirled in his stomach as he tried to understand what she was asking. "Help you? I don't..."

  She opened her mouth to reply but the sound coming out was not human. Immediately, her face wavered then disappeared like waves on the sea.

  Cowboy leaped from his bed, throwing the light blanket off with one sweep. On his bedside table, his cell rang again. Wiping his hand over his face, he picked it up and punched the button. "Yeah?"

  "We've got a problem."

  That cold feeling from his dream clenched his midsection as he recognized Digger's voice. "Miley?"

  "Yeah." His friend let out a frustrated breath. "Tex called me. Her panic button just activated eight minutes ago. He's tracking the bursts as they move."

  Cowboy cradled the phone to his shoulder as he pulled on his jeans. "Where is she?"

  He heard Digger speak to someone then came back. "Three miles north of fourteen heading toward the Double H. My team should be mobilizing as we speak. They should be there to pick you up any moment."

  There was a knock on the front door. Cowboy picked up his boots along with a dark t-shirt and hurried into the living room. Rissa was already at the door, peeking out before opening it. Harley, Fin, and Sergi stood on the porch. He gave them a nod. "They're here." He dropped his cell into his hand and tucked it into his pocket.

  "Alcide? What's going on?" Rissa's eyes flew from the bodyguards waiting on the porch to her brother and back again.

  Cowboy sat on a chair and thrust his feet into his boots. "Miley's in trouble."

  Standing, he turned to the gun safe standing by the door. Punching in his code, he opened the safe and pulled out a shotgun which he handed off to Rissa before withdrawing his Sig. Checking the magazine, he racked the slide and pushed it into a holster and fastened it to his hip. Grabbing two extra magazines, he closed the safe and moved toward the door.

  Rissa clasped the gun in her arms. "What kind of trouble?"

  "The kind that could spill over here. You know how to use that, so keep it close. Lock all the doors and windows and don't let anyone in." He laid a hand on his sister's shoulder. "She's been taken."

  Rissa's face became determined as she nodded. She opened the shotgun chamber and checked to see if it was loaded. "I've got this. Nobody is coming in here."

  "Good girl." He hesitated. "I hate to leave you alone."

  "No, you go and get my friend. I'll be fine."

  Fin stepped through the door. "She won't be alone. I'll stay and watch over things here."

  Cowboy felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He gave a quick nod then kissed his sister on the cheek. "Fin will watch out for you. Be smart."

  She gave him a half-hearted grin. "I'm always smart."

  "Yeah, I know."

  He turned and walked out th
e door. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Fin standing behind Rissa, his hand on his gun at his waist. "Don't worry, Cowboy. I've got this," he assured him. "Nobody is going to mess with your family."

  "Thanks."

  Fin lifted his chin to them as Rissa closed the door. Cowboy waited a moment until he heard the lock catch then hurried off the porch, tossing his shirt on as he walked. The others were already in the SUV, waiting on him. Cowboy yanked the door open and slid in, slamming it behind. As Harley slung rocks out of the driveway, Cowboy gritted his teeth. He'd promised Miley she would be safe and the first time she needed him, he wasn't there.

  "Never again," he muttered under his breath. Once he got Miley back, he wasn't leaving her side come hell or high water until he was completely sure she was safe. At that moment, he didn't care how she felt about being saved. His damsel in distress needed her knight in shining armor and Cowboy would be damned if he didn't ride in, proverbial sword drawn and rescue her.

  Whether she wanted it or not.

  Chapter 16

  Miley tried to still the tremors that racked her body but was having little luck. Ever since this whole crazy thing had started, she had been afraid for the people she cared about. Tariq's assurance he would harm the ones she loved stayed heavily in her thoughts. However, she never truly feared for her own safety.

  Until now.

  Sitting on the crate, looking up into the stony glare of Tariq Hoxha, she swallowed and locked her fingers onto the edge of the box. Behind her, Loran stood with his meaty hands pressed hard on her shoulders, keeping her firmly in place. Sandwiched between the two, she felt small, insignificant and very much alone. The shed they had taken her to was one of the larger ones on their property. It was made of metal with a flat roof, double door, and bare, dirt floor. Several barrels lined the walls on two sides with a smattering of crates and boxes scattered around. The noxious smell of rotten eggs made her stomach churn, and she bit back the urge to vomit.

  "I don't believe you," Tariq growled at her. Taking a fat cigar out of his pocket and thrust it between his teeth. "Try again."

  Miley licked her lips and took a calming breath. They had been through this several times already, but he kept asking the same questions - who were the newcomers and why was there a big meeting at the McMillans last night?

  "I've already told you a dozen times. Ryker McMillan is engaged to a Hollywood celebrity. They're in town to start planning their wedding. She doesn't travel anywhere without her bodyguards and entourage. They had a little get-together, and I was invited. That's all."

  "Lies!" Tariq pulled the cigar from his mouth and thrust the soggy end at her. "You insist on treating me as if I were stupid." He motioned to his side. "Bring him," he called out then took a step back.

  The door of the storage room opened. Miley peered into dimness as something moved. She drew back in surprise as two of Loran's men threw a third to the hard-packed ground at her feet. She gasped as the man fell over on his side exposing a face that looked like ground hamburger. One eye was swollen shut and blood poured from his cracked lips and a broken nose. His good eye opened and zeroed on her. "Miley," he croaked.

  "Drake?" Dear Lord, that was Rissa's fiancé. She lurched toward him to try and help but was held back by Loran's grasp on her shoulders.

  Tariq motioned toward him. "Drake has told me neither you nor the one they call Cowboy are friends of the McMillans. He told me if there was a party, others who are much closer would have been invited." He pulled his hand back and backhanded her hard sending her head to the left as lights exploded behind her eyes. "Tell me who they are!" he snarled.

  Pain erupted through her face, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. Instead, she tamped down the panic that seared her nerves and faced him again. She had to keep it together, not fall apart if she wanted to get out of this. Alcide would find her; she just had to give him time. Raising her fingers to her throbbing lip, she pulled them away wet with blood. Meeting his eyes, she answered with a firm tone. "I don't know why they invited me. I don't know why they invited anyone." She let out an exasperated huff and grimaced. "I don't know!"

  Tariq's hand slammed into her other cheek. Fresh pain erupted from her face, and she fought the urge to succumb to the darkness and pass out. Instead, she concentrated on Drake moaning at her feet. Even though she was only an animal doctor, she could hear the wheezing sound of his breaths and figured he most likely had a broken rib. "Please? Let me help him," she begged.

  Tariq motioned again, and one of the men standing behind him surged forward. Pulling his foot back, he slammed it into Drake's side eliciting a scream of agony from him. Blood bubbled from his lips as his eye rolled back and closed.

  Miley lunged forward again, reaching for him, "Stop it! You're killing him!"

  Loran grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her back again as Tariq screamed at her, "Tell me who they are or he dies!"

  Tears burned at her eyes as they remained glued on Drake. She could hear the wheezing had gotten worse. Now, there was a burbling rattle with each inhale. He was dying, right there on the ground before her. "Please, let me help him."

  "Tell me!" Spittle flew from Tariq's lips.

  She couldn't do it. She couldn't let Drake die. She couldn't keep quiet any longer.

  "Five of them are bodyguards from California. The others are FBI and EPA agents from Washington," she whispered. "Please, can I help him? I told you the truth."

  "Finally. Too bad you didn't do it before. It might have saved his life." Tariq pulled a gun from the holster at his side. Aiming it at Drake's head, he squeezed the trigger.

  The report of the gun was loud in the space. Miley's eyes widened as blood and grey matter sprayed the ground and her legs. There was a scream, loud and piercing, and it took her a moment to realize it was coming from her lips. Something heavy clamped over her mouth, silencing her until only the ragged sounds of her breathing remained. Loran's fetid breath fanned her face as he whispered words in Albanian to her.

  "It's time to clean up," Tariq said brusquely. He thrust the gun to the man standing beside him. "Jetmir, destroy the evidence. All of it. Take the last of the shipment for disposal immediately then come back and burn everything. Agron, take two men and clean out the safe room. I want to be gone within an hour. We will regroup at the secondary location. You know what to do."

  "The horses?" Loran's question was full of agony.

  Tariq exhaled heavily. "Jetmir, leave the stables. There's nothing there but the animals anyway. I'm sure they will be fine. We'll start over again, get you more when we settle."

  Tariq turned to walk out when Loran stopped him again. "Vëlla, what about my bride?"

  Tariq glanced at Miley and shook his head. "She has seen too much, knows too much. I'm sorry, Vëlla, she must go as well."

  "I don't think..."

  "It's my place to think, Loran, not yours. She betrayed us both. You saw the photographs Richards sent. She thought by sending them through other channels, she could get away with it. Her friend may know people in high places, but in the end, it always trickles down to the ones who get their hands dirty." He glared at her and pointed one finger in her face. "I know you wished to take this one for your own, but she's damaged. Don't forget, she's the reason we have to leave your precious horses behind. She's the reason we have to start over again. We will find you another bride and I don't want to hear another word about it! I will not tolerate betrayal. I'm still in charge of this family!"

  His cold, blue eyes zeroed in on Miley causing her blood to turn to chill, then turn to ice at his final words.

  "Goodbye, Dr. Ellison."

  Tariq and all but one of the men followed him out, leaving her with Loran. He paced, thrusting his hands through his hair, muttering curses in Albanian and English.

  Miley watched his frantic movements over her shoulder. Daring to move slightly, she turned and tried again. "Loran, please, let me go. You don't want to hurt me," Miley whispered as her eyes flittered
to Drake's body at her feet. "I won't say anything to anyone."

  "I don't want to hurt you, but I have no choice. Tariq is the king, and he has spoken. I'm only a prince." She watched him as he paced, the muttering becoming louder as he argued with himself. Presently, he stopped in front of her and squatted until their eyes met. Miley shuddered to see the madness swirling in his gaze. He looked feverish as he continued to mutter then rant in a mixture of languages. Suddenly the tirade stopped and she heard the sound of something being drawn out. In her mind, it sounded like a knife being removed from a sheath. She bit back a whimper. This was it. This was the end. She was going to join Drake on the hard packed dirt of this small shed.

  The door opened, and two men entered. Loran tensed then relaxed. "Get the barrels," he snarled at them. "Hurry. I wish to say goodbye to my bride in private." He moved behind her again, pulling her around until her back was against his front. Cupping her neck with one hand, he leaned down and pressed his cheek to hers as he whispered, "So beautiful. I'll miss you, my little flower."

  He ran a four-inch wicked-looking knife down the other side of her face making her shiver in fright. The cold metal felt alien against the heat of her inflamed skin. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, listening to the men removing the barrels of toxic waste from the shed, mentally counting down the minutes until they were finished and Loran took her life.

  "I'm sorry, lule e vogël. We would have had beautiful daughters and strong sons. If only you had been smart and accepted your place at my side." He ran a finger along the same path as the blade. "Goodbye, my little flower."

  She saw the blade turn in his hand until the tip rested over her heart. Miley didn't dare to breathe, afraid of hurrying her last moments. Too young - she was much too young. She had so much more to live for, so much she wanted to do. It was all wasted time.