by Welsh, Hope
Mandy cried out and he felt her inner muscles clench against him. He continued to thrust and used his free hand to spank, alternating cheeks as he drove deep inside her with his own release as she found hers.
He didn’t move for a long moment, just held himself deeply inside her. “God, you’re amazing,” he said before he’d even realized the words were there.
Chapter Fifteen
He knew she hadn’t left on her own this time. Brandon cursed himself as a fool for not moving them from the cabin. It wouldn’t have been hard to track her—not when he’d given them her real name at the hospital. What the hell had he been thinking?
That was the problem; he hadn’t been thinking at all. His only concern had been the unconscious woman in the back of that damn ambulance.
Brandon called Kevin again. “Kevin?”
“Hey, Brandon. What’s going on? Have you found out anything yet?”
“Kevin, she’s gone. I think they got to her,” Brandon said dully. “I don’t have any connections at the department anymore. I need your help.”
“What can I do?” Kevin replied immediately.
Brandon closed his eyes. “Put feelers out. See if you can find out who might be looking for her. Hell, Kevin—I’m still not entirely sure why she set me up to begin with. But somehow, I led them right to her.”
“I wish you could have just let this go, Brandon. You’ve given up enough. I’ll help you find her—but then you should walk away. Don’t let her get to you like this.”
Brandon understood that Kevin wasn’t a fan. Kevin had been his only support during the hell of the trial and his time in the prison system. Without him, Brandon wasn’t sure what he’d have done. “She was forced, Kevin. Someone forced her. We’ve had this talk before.”
“Damn it, Brandon, she was able to lie well enough to convince twelve men and women that you beat her to a damn pulp! When are you going to realize that you don’t know this woman at all?”
It was an old battle. One that wouldn’t be ended today. “I don’t want to fight, Kevin. I just want to find her safe. Are you going to help me, or not?”
Brandon heard the deep sigh. “Yes, I’ll help if I can. Let me make a few calls.”
“Thanks, man. Let me know. I’m going to check locally. Maybe someone saw something.”
“All right, Brandon. Keep me posted, and I’ll do the same,” Kevin replied, then disconnected the call.
Brandon tossed the phone onto the couch seat next to him and ran his hand through his hair. God, he wasn’t sure where to begin. Finding a woman that had no real ideas of how to hide hadn’t been difficult at all—but this was totally different. Now, he was searching for men that would stop at nothing to protect themselves. And he didn’t have the first clue where to begin looking. Still, sitting here staring at four walls wouldn’t help a damn thing.
*~*~*
Amanda sat on the edge of the bed in the small motel room. The room was dark and dingy. It fit her mood perfectly. Brandon had promised that he wouldn’t tell anyone where they were, but she’d heard him on the phone.
She knew he’d called his friend, Kevin. Mandy knew Kevin hated her, and she couldn’t blame him—but she didn’t know him. She wasn’t willing to trust their safety to anyone. Not even Brandon’s best friend. He was an attorney. An officer of the court.
Mandy hadn’t overheard the entire conversation, but had heard enough to know that Brandon had told Kevin about her being threatened. About being beaten up. But, even Mandy knew that that just didn’t justify what she’d put Brandon through.
A car engine backfired and Mandy let out an involuntary yelp. Her nerves were beyond shot. Get a grip. She repeated the mantra over and over in her mind.
She had to make some sort of a plan. As long as she wasn’t with Brandon, he should be safe—and so should she. As much as she wanted to stay with him, the message on her cell phone had convinced her that she had to go. She had no idea how they’d found her, but the warning had been clear.
If she didn’t leave immediately, they’d kill him. She had waited until he’d gone on a store run, then she’d left.
All she’d taken was her purse. She had some money hidden in—even Brandon hadn’t found it. Of course, he hadn’t looked, either. He’d been looking for some sort of weapon, not a stash of cash that was hidden beneath the liner.
Though, she still didn’t have any idea how they had gotten her phone number. It was a pre-paid cell. No one had the number, as far as she knew. She had it for emergencies only.
Had Brandon given the number to Kevin? That was the only thing that made any sense to her. Kevin. His best friend. Was he the one responsible for the entire thing?
Many didn’t know—but she did know that there was no way in hell that Brandon would ever believe her if she tried to say he could be.
No, there was nothing she could do but disappear—again. She’d have to do a better job this time, though. She couldn’t stay in this motel more than a night.
But now, she just needed to sleep. Just a couple of hours, and she’d think about her next move.
*~*~*
When Amanda woke the next morning, she woke instantly and terrified. She’d been awakened by a hard hand over her mouth.
She opened her eyes wide.
“You were warned not to tell him,” a cold voice said.
Mandy couldn’t make out any features, but she thought she recognized the voice. She put her hands on his wrist and tried to pull the hand away from her mouth.
“I’m going to let go.”
Mandy saw the glint of a knife. “But I’d suggest you not scream.”
Mandy nodded, her heart racing wildly in her chest. The hard, gloved hand moved from her mouth. She could still taste the leather on her lips. “What do you want?”
“You had your chance. He knows too much.”
“He doesn’t know anything! I don’t know anything!” she said frantically. “I left. He doesn’t know where I am.”
The man leaned down, his masked face a mere inch from hers. “He’ll find you. And that’s exactly what I want.”
Oh, God. What have I done? They are going to kill us both this time. “He doesn’t know where I am. I didn’t leave any clues.”
“That’s why you’re going to call him—tell him where you are,” the man said in that same cold voice.
No, she wasn’t going to do that. She’d known she’d been on borrowed time since the night they’d beaten her—but she wasn’t going to let them get to Brandon. “No, I won’t call him. He wouldn’t come anyway. He doesn’t trust me.”
“The two off you seemed pretty close when I saw you in that cabin,” he taunted.
Mandy felt his hand in her hair, and it tightened painfully as he lifted her from the bed. Her hands wrapped around his arm to ease the pain as he pulled her up. Before she could do more than try to step back, he backhanded her, causing her to fall back onto the bed once more. Her hand flew to her face. “And I won’t blame him this time, either,” she said, spitting out the blood from where he’d busted her lip.
The man was tall. Too tall and strong for her to fight, even if she’d been able to. There was nothing she could to. She huddled on the bed, but her eyes snapped fire as he drew back his hand again. She refused to give him the satisfaction of flinching as he struck her again; another backhand that caused her to fall back onto her back.
“How did you find me?” she asked. She wished she hadn’t shut the curtains. Even though it was daylight, with the drapes closed, she could actually see very little.
“We’ve known where you were all along, Ms. Wilson. I was content to let you alone as long as you kept with the plan, but you didn’t, did you?”
“I didn’t tell him anything! I don’t even know anything!” she said, keeping her voice low, but she didn’t hide the anger, either.
He pulled a phone—it looked like her phone—from his pocket. “Call him, Ms. Wilson.”
Mandy took the phone with s
haking fingers. “I don’t have his number.”
“I do.” He recited the number for her. “Now, call him and tell him to come here,” he ordered. “And no tricks. Put it on speaker.”
Shaking, Mandy dialed the number. Surely, Brandon would know something was wrong by her voice. He wouldn’t walk into a trap.
“Mandy? Where the fuck are you?” Brandon roared.
“Run, Brandon—he’s here—run!” she said quickly, then screamed as the man hit her again. This time with his fist. She felt nothing more.
Chapter Sixteen
Brandon was instantly alert. “Mandy? Mandy!” He could still hear sounds, but she wasn’t speaking anymore.
He’d already left the cabin and was headed to town, hoping she hadn’t gotten far, since she had taking virtually nothing but her purse.
There was a shabby motel on the right side of the road. He glanced at the lot, not thinking that she’d stop this soon, but something caught his eyes.
There was a car in the lot that just didn’t fit. It was a newer model Lexus. What the hell would a Lexus be doing in this small-town motel?
He swung into the lot, but parked in the back of the building. Reaching under the seat, he pulled out his .45. To hell with not being allowed to have a gun. He wasn’t about to take any chances. He put the gun under his shirt at the back of his jeans, then climbed from the car.
There were very few cars in the parking lot. He walked into the office as casually as he could muster. A bored teenager was sitting at the front desk.
He looked up with a bored look on his face. “Fifty for the night,” he said. “Need your license and this card filled out.”
Brandon ignored him and instead pulled out a picture of Mandy and a hundred dollar bill. “What room?” he asked coldly.
The young man picked up the hundred and pocketed it. “First floor. Room 10.”
“Key?” Brandon said, holding out his hand.
The boy put a card-key into his hand. “But I didn’t give you that.”
“Of course not,” Brandon said. “Who else didn’t you give her room number to?”
“A guy a while ago. Said he was her boyfriend,” the boy said quickly. “And he was, like, a cop or something. I had to.”
Brandon was instantly on alert. “Why do you think he was a cop?”
“He flashed a badge, man. I gave him the room number. He said he’d arrest me if I gave her a heads-up.”
“Do you have security cameras?” Brandon asked.
“Nah, they’re just for show. We don’t get much crime out this way.”
Brandon nodded, and left the office, shaking his head. A cop? It was a cop all along? Brandon felt sick as he jogged to the room the boy had given him a key to. He stopped to the side of the door and listened.
“I won’t call him again. Kill me. You can’t make me—” The rest of the words were cut off with the sound of a fist striking flesh.
Brandon drew the gun and kicked in the door, gun aimed. “Let her go and put the knife down,” he snapped.
The man spun around and took a step toward Brandon, the knife in his gloved hand raised to strike.
A quick look at Mandy showed she wasn’t moving and as much as Brandon wanted to shoot the bastard, he wouldn’t unless given no choice. He needed answers—and this might be his only chance to get them. “Drop it, or lose your arm,” he snarled.
“I don’t think so, Walsh.” He spun around and raised the knife again, obviously intending to stab Mandy with it.
Brandon didn’t hesitate. He aimed the gun for the bastard’s right shoulder and fired.
The man spun around and moved toward him. “The next bullet goes in your brain. Drop the knife!” Brandon snarled, meaning every word. Answers be damned. He’d been intending on killing Mandy. He was beyond livid.
“I’m dead anyway,” the man snapped, and moved toward Brandon.
Brandon noted immediately that the man couldn’t lift his right arm, and he smiled. He wouldn’t have to shoot him again, after all. He shoved the gun in his jeans again. “Come on,” he taunted, using his hand in the typical gesture to draw someone in.
Brandon saw his eyes widen, then narrow. Brandon charged, kicking his leg behind the knee of the killer’s leg, then punched him as hard as he could in the chin. He heard a satisfying crunch as the man crumbled at his feet.
Brandon disarmed him quickly and used the rope he found in his pockets to quickly tie his hands behind his back. He kicked the knife across the room—careful not to touch it.
The killer had gloves on, but it was still possible it would have prints on it.
Ignoring the now unconscious man, Brandon moved to Mandy, who was just now regaining consciousness.
“No! You can’t be here. Run, Brandon, he’s here!”
“Shh, he’s out. You’re safe, Mandy, you’re safe.”
Mandy was shaking her head frantically. “No, we’re not safe. Go, Brandon. Leave now! The police will come!”
“Yeah, they will. That’s why we’re going to be gone. How badly are you hurt?” He looked at her, but didn’t see anything but bruising on her face. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“No,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”
“What all did you bring? I need to get you out of here quickly,” Brandon said.
“Nothing. Just my purse,” Mandy said, pointing to the table. “I just brought my purse.”
Brandon grabbed her purse. “What did you touch? Anything in the room?”
Mandy shook her head. “I was too tired. I just slept. I—I might have touched something in the bathroom, but I gave my ID to the lady when I checked in last night.”
“Then let’s go, Mandy. Hurry.”
Assuming she’d obey him, he turned his attention back to the groaning man on the floor. He pulled off the mask. “Who the hell are you?” Brandon demanded, his voice as cold as ice.
“You’re dead, Walsh. You’re both dead. But then, so am I,” he retorted, closing his eyes.
Brandon hauled him roughly to his feet. “Who the fuck are you?” he asked again, digging his fingers into the wound on the man’s shoulder.
The man winced, but said nothing.
Brandon shoved him onto the bed on his stomach, searching for his ID. He’d shown something to the kid in the office, after all.
He pulled out an ID case with a badge and photo. He had been out of the loop too long to know if the badge or ID were legit, though they showed the man was a detective with the same department Brandon had worked for. It certainly looked real—which didn’t necessarily mean a thing. “Okay, Harry Gallager, you’re coming with us. I need answers, and we can’t stick around here.”
“Mandy,” he said sharply. “Go get the car. It’s around back. Hurry.” He tossed her the keys.
Mandy nodded and left the room.
When they were alone, Brandon pulled Gallager to his feet. “Are you a cop, Gallager?”
“Yes,” he snapped. “And as a convicted felon, you’re on your way back to prison. You can’t own a weapon, Walsh.”
Brandon smiled, but it wasn’t a smile that would have calmed anyone. “Do I really look like I care? The only reason you’re still breathing is because I need answers.”
“You got answers. We know Wilson told you everything,” Gallager snarled. “This isn’t over, Walsh. You’re finished, and so is your bitch.”
Brandon drew back his fist and slugged Gallager in the cheek hard. “You’ll pay for every bruise you put on her, Gallager. I promise you that.”
He heard the car pulling up and looked out the door. The boy from the office was watching with wide eyes. Shit.
“Let’s go, Gallager,” Brandon said, dragging the man from the room. He shoved him in the back of the car.
“I called the cops,” the teen said. “They’ll be here pretty quick.”
“Mandy, come here,” Brandon said gently.
Amanda climbed from the driver’s seat and stood next to Brandon.
&n
bsp; “This is what this jerk did to this young woman, kid. Make sure you remember that when the real cops come,” Brandon said. “We’re not the bad guys here.” He pointed to the back seat. “He is.”
“But he had a badge,” the boy said, his voice shaking. “Lady, I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine,” Mandy said automatically.
“Go on back inside, kid. We’re leaving. Sorry about the door.” He turned back to Mandy. “Get in, Mandy. We need to go. Now.”
Mandy nodded and scurried to the other side of the car.
Brandon realized that Gallager’s car might give him some kind of clue, and decided to take it, too. “Mandy, are you okay to drive?”
“Yes,” she said, pausing with the door open.
“Drive his car, follow me. Understand?” he said, his eyes on hers.
“Do you have his keys?”
Brandon had emptied his pockets when he’d taken the ID case out. He tossed them to her. “Stay right behind me.”
There was only one other car in the lot, and it was parked next to Brandon’s. She climbed in and started the engine.
Brandon climbed in is Mustang and pulled out of the lot quickly, Mandy following behind him.
He looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Gallager glaring at him.
“I’d suggest you get her out of my car,” Gallager said sarcastically.
“Oh, and why is that?” Brandon asked. They’d been on the road for only about twenty minutes. He wouldn’t feel even a little safe until they were much further away.
“Because it has a bomb in it,” Gallager said.
Chapter Seventeen
Brandon pulled over, his heart racing so hard, he could feel it throbbing even in his head. Why the fuck would there be a bomb in the car?
It didn’t matter. He couldn’t take the chance that Gallager wasn’t lying. Not when Amanda was alone in the car.
He jumped out of the car and ran back. Mandy had pulled in behind him. He opened the door and snatched her out of the car and backed away.
