by Linda Oaks
I was in love with her.
The thought of loving anyone should have sent me running, but instead it was the opposite with her. After Natalie, I’d never slept with another woman, ever. Sure, I fucked women, but I never stayed after fulfilling my need, nor did I allow them to stay with me. Miley was the first. Her sweet face had been the last sight I’d seen before falling asleep. Hank had probably awakened her by scratching at the bedroom door this morning. I was surprised I didn’t hear him first, but the last time I’d looked at the clock it had read a little after three.
From the other side of the room, sunlight glared through the slats of the blinds. I was usually up before sunrise. Sierra settled in beside me. I scooted up in the bed, leaning against the headboard, and glanced at the clock on the nearby dresser.
Shit, it was a little after nine. We had to get moving.
“Are we going to school?” she asked, titling her head back to look up at me. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek.
Damn it, she still needed a bath.
“Yeah, baby, we are. Did you sleep well?”
“Like a rock,” she said proudly, and I couldn’t help but grin. Those words reminded me so much of my gran.
“Get on out of here, squirt, so I can get dressed. We’re going to be late.”
She didn’t seem to be in the least bit of a hurry, even though we needed to haul ass. Despite my words, Sierra now sat perched on the side of the bed swinging her legs back and forth against the mattress. She acted as if we had all day. She was still wearing her nightgown.
“Mrs. Hensley don’t care if we’re late.”
“Doesn’t,” I replied, correcting her grammar.
She looked at me, frowning. “That’s what I said,” she insisted.
There wasn’t time for this.
We needed to get moving. At the rate we were going, we’d be lucky to make it to school by noon. It was no big deal if Sierra skipped her bath for one day. A little dirt never hurt anyone. She could it wash off at the sink if need be. If we managed to leave soon, she wouldn’t be too late for school.
“Let me get dressed,” I told her, and shooed her from the bed. “You go and put some clothes on. Then, we’ll track down your mom and Hank.”
This time she finally decided to obey and scooted off the bed, walking for the door. All of the sudden, she came to a stop and turned around facing me. “What do I wear?” she asked, appearing confused.
Shit, I didn’t know anything about little girl clothes.
“Wear whatever you want.” Her lips curved into a grin. She smiled back at me as if I’d just told her it was Christmas morning, and she ran from the room.
Well, that was easy.
Ten minutes later I was dressed, and there was still no sign of Miley. She was probably fixing breakfast. Once we dropped off Sierra at daycare, Miley was all mine. I couldn’t wait to spend the day with her. As we made our way downstairs, Sierra chattered nonstop. Gone were the days where I’d had to guess what she was thinking.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, she declared she was hungry. Glancing around the living room, I spotted Miley’s shoes sitting near the front door right beside Sierra’s pink sneakers and my boots. That could only mean one thing, Miley was still in the house.
Sierra released my hand and ran ahead of me down the hallway to disappear inside the kitchen. Before I could even make it halfway down the hall, she came running back.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, noting her expression.
“Mommy’s not there.”
Where in the hell was she?
Sierra grabbed my hand, trying to pull me in the direction we’d just came. “Stop,” I said a bit too harshly, and she looked up at me with wide blue eyes and a trembling lower lip.
Hell, I hadn’t meant to be so short with the kid, but where were Miley and Hank? I was starting to get worried myself.
I knelt down on one knee, putting us close to eye level. Since I’d snapped at her, Sierra refused to look at me. I felt like dirt. I shouldn’t have taken it out on her, but I was getting antsy. Something wasn’t right. Maybe Miley was with Hank outside. That pup was good at getting himself into trouble. I remembered that not long after I’d found him, he had managed to trap his head inside a rotted log chasing after a rabbit. Hank was too curious for his own good.
“Hey,” I said, softening my tone, and Sierra finally raised her head staring back at me with her watery blue eyes.
Hell, I’d almost made her cry.
“I’m sorry, squirt. I didn’t mean to be a grouch. Your mom is probably just outside somewhere with Hank. You go on into the kitchen and grab a juice. I’ll go look for them.”
“I want to come, too,” she squealed; it was then that I happened to notice the condition of her feet. They were bare.
Fuck, we’d forgotten socks.
“Juice first,” I ordered, and pointed her toward the kitchen. “Stay put until I get back. Then, you can go outside, too, but only after putting on a pair of socks and your shoes.”
“I want my mommy,” she demanded, glaring at me.
She was as stubborn as a mule. Hell, I wanted her mommy, too.
I ruffled her hair, biting my tongue and noticed the mismatched clothing she wore. It took the damn patience of a saint to raise a child. Miley would probably pitch a fit over the way she was dressed. She was just a little kid, though, so what did it matter? Everything didn’t need to match. Did it? Neon orange leggings worked just fine with a lime green and pink shirt. Didn’t they? There was still that freaking smudge of dirt on her cheek left over from yesterday. Did she not wash her face?
Instead of arguing with her, I gritted my teeth and silently counted to ten. Give me strength. “I know you want your mommy,” I said, trying to control the tone of my voice.
I didn’t need to lose my shit, not now.
Of all the mornings for Sierra to be difficult, she had to pick today. “Listen, I’m going to find your mom and Hank. When you go to your room for a pair of socks, stop by the bathroom and wash your face and brush your teeth. You hear me?”
She huffed in reply then finally gave in and nodded her head before walking down the hall to the kitchen. Without a moment to spare, I made my way to the living room and quickly tugged on my boots. An eerie sensation skirted down my spine making me extremely uncomfortable as I stared down at Miley’s shoes sitting by the door.
Something was off. This just didn’t feel right.
When I went to open the door, I realized then it had been left unlocked. Last night when we’d gone to bed, it was locked. I know because I locked it myself. I stepped out onto the front porch and noticed Miley’s car was still sitting parked in the driveway. The sight of my bike turned over on its side lying in the gravel had me running down the front porch steps.
Son of a bitch!
“Miley,” I yelled, coming to a standstill in the middle of the yard. My heart was hammering in my chest. Where did I start? With the sun in my eyes, I turned in a complete circle. There was no sign of her anywhere. I called her name, screaming it at the top of my lungs.
What in the fuck was going on?
“Miley!” I screamed again.
An overwhelming sense of urgency bubbled in the pit of my stomach, making me feel nauseous. My hands trembled. With no direction in mind, I hurried around the side of the house. I had to start somewhere. Search the perimeter first, I thought, my training kicking in. If this had anything to do with Ryder Blade, I’d chop off his dick and shove it down his throat.
Nothing but silence greeted me in return. With my feet carrying me past the old oak tree behind the house, I made my way to the tree line of the forest. I didn’t detect the slightest of sound or movement. There was nothing out of the ordinary. I couldn’t risk going any farther even though the thought of Miley out there somewhere in the woods alone or with him had me breaking out in a cold sweat. I couldn’t leave Sierra behind. If she decided to follow after me, she could end up lost too.
“Hank
!” I yelled this time and listened for any barking. When I was met again with nothing but silence, I called his name once more. Dread clawed up my spine. Its lethal nails pricking my skin and making me sick with worry. I sucked in a deep breath trying to remain calm.
Fuck calm! Something was wrong!
This wasn’t like Miley, and this definitely wasn’t like Hank. That sorry son of bitch should have come running by now, especially for his breakfast. Miley, would never leave Sierra behind; at least, not willingly. It was almost as if they had both disappeared into thin air. This stank to high heaven of Ryder Blade.
So help me…
There… it was… a faint sound. I wasn’t sure I heard anything until… My head whipped around. It was whimpering. I took off running for the shed.
“Hank,” I called, and it grew even louder.
I yanked opened the door and hurried inside, forgetting all of my training; forgetting everything but the need to find Miley and Hank inside and safe. Even though the sunlight streamed in through the open door behind me, there wasn’t enough light to see beyond the boxes and crates stacked near the rear of the building.
Hell, they almost reached the ceiling.
“Hank,” I called again, following the sounds of the whimpering.
Most of the items stored inside were stacked on pallets in an attempt to avoid the dampness of the shed’s dirt floor. Within the shadows, there was a slight movement. Only when I drew closer did I notice the lump lying on the floor hidden halfway behind an old dresser.
It was Hank!
“Hey, buddy,” I murmured and dropped to my knees. I couldn’t see worth shit. Someone had locked Hank inside the shed, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who… Ryder Blade. I knew it was him. It had to be. The snake had finally managed to work up enough courage to strike.
Hank’s fur slid through my fingers. A sticky, warm wetness coated my palms. He yelped then growled and cocked his head to the side looking at me. Rage consumed me, heating my veins with the need for vengeance.
What in the hell had Ryder done to Hank, and where was Miley?
“Don’t bite me, Hank.” I slid my hands beneath his bulky body, placing one strategically at his shoulder and the other at his hip. I had to move him. I couldn’t leave him here. He whimpered as I lifted him off the ground. Thank fuck, he didn’t try to snap at me. Instead of protesting, he stayed as still as a newborn baby in my arms. This wasn’t a good sign. Hank was always rowdy and full of mischief.
When I stepped into the sunlight and was finally able to see Hank, I almost lost it. Moisture gathered at the corners of my eyes. “Fuck,” I swore, staring down at the big pup in my arms.
His head hung limply to the side. He was almost lifeless. His eyes were at half-mast and his brown fur was streaked a rusty red. There were areas where the fur had already dried stiff, but my chest and arm felt wet. It was Hank’s blood. He was still bleeding. I needed to contact the sheriff, but I’d forgotten my damn phone inside the house. A smart man didn’t mess with a man’s bike, his woman, or his dog.
If Ryder Blade harmed one hair on Miley’s head…
I couldn’t even begin to imagine my life without her. It was hard to keep a straight thought. I had to find her.
One thing was certain, as soon as I found that son of a bitch, he was a dead man.
When I rounded the side of the house, my steps flattered. Sierra was standing at the bottom of the steps. When she saw me, she let out an ear piercing scream. Her small face crumbled and she began to cry. Even though I wanted to comfort her, there just wasn’t time, not now. We needed to hurry.
“Open the front door, and grab a blanket from my bed upstairs,” I instructed her.
Sierra appeared confused. At this point, she was probably in shock. She didn’t move, except to lift a hand to cover her mouth. “Move, now, Sierra. Open the front door. Go grab a blanket. We have to get Hank inside.”
I hated to scare her, but at hearing the sharp tone of my voice, she turned and ran into the house. Thank fuck, she’d left the front door standing open. As I carried him inside Hank’s sides heaved, his breathing was labored. A trickling wetness streaked along my inner wrist.
“Nate!” Sierra yelled. She ran down the stairs toward me carrying the comforter from my bed.
“Just spread it out anywhere.”
She threw it onto the floor and fell to her knees. Her face was scrunched up tight and it seemed she was fighting back tears. “Will he be okay?” she asked, her voice wobbly and filled with uncertainty.
“I don’t know, baby,” I said, softening my tone.
The poor kid, I wouldn’t lie to her, but I didn’t know how badly Hank was hurt.
While I examined him, Sierra stroked his muzzle, softly murmuring to him what a good boy he was. At the back of his broad head, right behind one crooked ear, I had found a lump the size of a goose egg. There was also a gash, at least a half of an inch deep running along his chest. It was still seeping blood. While I turned him over, Sierra held his head. Her frightened eyes met mine. “Where’s my mommy?”
“She’s not here, but I’ll bring her home soon.”
It seemed as if she wanted to say something else, but instead, she buried her face in Hank’s fur, hiding. Her shoulders shook. The sight before me had my heart aching, but I focused my attention on where it was needed… Hank. After a couple of minutes, Sierra lifted her head. Her face was red, but I pretended not to notice. She stroked Hank’s fur. In the meantime, I’d discovered another gash that ran along his left side. The fur was dried, stiff, and matted. I needed to tend to the wound on his chest. It was the worst and still bleeding.
“Sierra, stay here with Hank while I get some supplies from upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. She laid down on the floor beside Hank placing her face close to his.
Despite everything, the kid was holding up well. She was a trooper. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind who was to blame for all of this. There had been no sign of Miley anywhere to be found. She wasn’t here. I closed the front door and locked it before heading upstairs. It was better to be safe than sorry.
In the bathroom, I grabbed peroxide and gauze. I remembered to get a sheet from the hall closet. The sound of a phone ringing had me sprinting into my bedroom room. Miley’s phone lay vibrating on the nightstand as it rang.
“Hello.” I gasped, hoping and praying to hear the sound of her voice on the other end of the line.
“Is Miley coming into work today?”
No such luck, it was that frigging Cecil.
“She’s missing,” I snapped. Cecil screaming in my ear had me clenching the phone. He was firing a million and one questions at me all at once. “I woke up and she wasn’t here. Her car is still parked in the driveway. I need to call the Sheriff,” I told him. It was only then that I remembered my own phone and grabbed it off the dresser.
“Son of a bitch. Mother. Fucking. Son. Of. A. Bitch,” Cecil roared, and I held the phone away from my ear so he wouldn’t deafen me. “I’m on my way.” I finally heard him say, but before I could reply, the line went dead.
Fuck, Cecil. Let him come. I had a fist waiting that I was itching to plant in his ugly face.
Next, I called nine-one-one.
Sheriff Burke, along with another patrol car, arrived at the exact same time as Cecil. It was perfect timing since it probably saved Cecil from getting his ass beat. After cleaning Hank’s wounds, Sierra and I managed to get a couple small sips of water down him. Using Miley’s phone, I found her parent’s numbers stored in her contacts. There was always the chance her dad was in surgery so I’d dialed her mom instead. She’d been frantic even though I was well aware of the estrangement between the two of them. She was currently in route here and was going to take care of Sierra so I could help with the search for Miley. I also managed to make arrangements to drop off Hank at the vet’s.
Usually with a missing person’s case, they h
ad to be missing forty-eight hours before the police would intervene, but since Sherriff Burke knew me and Miley, he’d made an exception. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. With or without the police’s help, I was finding my girl before nightfall. Come hell or high water, I would find her. She would be back where she belonged, with Sierra, Hank and me. As I recalled the morning’s events to Sheriff Burke and his deputy, Cecil stood nearby listening. He didn’t say a word, but his gaze kept drifting to Sierra and Hank.
After taking my statement, Burke and the deputy disappeared back outside to search the premises for any evidence. I could have told him he wasting his time, but it was police protocol and I understood how the law worked only too well. Cecil knelt down beside Sierra. The little girl had refused to leave Hank’s side. From where I stood, it was impossible to make out what Cecil was saying to her, but she nodded her head a couple of times in reply.
Miley’s mom was due to arrive at any moment. I was anxious to get out and start searching. Time was wasting. It was hard to be patient with her missing, especially after the news I’d received from Sheriff Burke.
A couple of his men had spotted a stranger wandering around outside The Eight Ball in the early morning hours. They’d been unable to apprehend the suspect. He’d fled the scene and, since there had been no known property damage, they’d dismissed the incident entirely.
My gaze drifted to Cecil and Sierra. As if sensing my stare, Cecil lifted his head. His eyes meeting mine. He patted Sierra reassuringly on the back then stood and walked toward me. “We’ll find her,” he said, but his words did little to ease my worry.
My fucking skin was crawling. I wanted to punch something, preferably him, but I held myself in check. I didn’t want to end up behind bars. Miley needed me. “And again, why are you here?” I asked him coldly, not caring in the least that I was behaving like a prick. I despised him.
“Listen, I care about Miley, too. I can help you find her,” he explained, and ran a hand over his round, bald head while staring back at me with pleading eyes. “I can help,” he insisted.
“I don’t need your help,” I snapped at him and just so happened to notice the silver Range Rover currently pulling up in the driveway.
