Her Christmas Protector

by Terri Reed

  His attention once again zeroed in on Faith. Possessiveness lit his black eyes with a feral gleam. “You do belong to me.”

  From inside the house the phone rang. Each ring stretched Faith’s nerves.

  She took a deep breath, drawing on strength she’d learned from Luke. “No, I don’t.”

  “What?!” His face turned a frightening shade of red and the vein at his temple pulsed into a squiggly, purple line.

  “You heard me. I want you to leave.” Her voice wavered and she watched his face contort with rage.

  Cursing graphically, he stepped threateningly closer, the gun raised and pointed at her chest. “You’ve made me chase you all the way across the country, forced me to spend good money on flunkies, made a fool of me.”

  “Leave, Vinnie,” Faith repeated, her bravado rapidly retreating, replaced by a gnawing fear. He was unpredictable. She shouldn’t push too hard.

  “Oh, no, no, no. I’m not leaving here without you. You’ve caused me too much trouble, Faith, for me to let you go.” The black of his eyes took on a sinister gleam, the centers hollow, with no sign of a soul.

  “She’s not going anywhere with you. My son will be back any second and he won’t let you take her away.” Dottie sounded so sure, so confident. Her belief in her son rang in every syllable.

  For a brief moment, Vinnie’s gaze narrowed in speculation on Dottie, then swung back to Faith. His lips spread into a sadistic grin. “If you don’t want this old woman to die, you’ll pack your things and leave with me now.”

  Icy talons of fear gripped her heart. She knew he’d shoot Dottie and walk away without any remorse.

  “Don’t—please don’t do this.” Faith stood and placed herself in front of Dottie, using herself as a shield for Luke’s mother.

  Fury consumed his demeanor. His face twisted and he lunged for Faith, knocking over the small table and kicking aside the chair she’d been sitting in. Faith raised her hands to ward him off, dreading the violence to come, but she resolved to protect Dottie. At any cost.

  Vinnie’s thin hand closed around her neck and sent her backward with a hard shove. She landed with a painful thud in the chair Dottie had just barely vacated. Faith twisted around and caught a glimpse of the older woman—moving faster than she thought possible—disappearing inside the house. She prayed she’d call the police and not come back out.

  The cold metal of the gun pressing into her temple brought Faith’s gaze back to Vinnie. His fingers dug into her neck and he said in a harsh rasp, “You’re mine, Faith. I’ll destroy this place and everyone in it, do you hear me?”

  His grip tightened, choking her, and she could only nod as she gasped for breath. Darkness threatened to overtake her, but she fought the blackness. She had to stop him. She couldn’t let him hurt the Campbells. Praying the police were now on their way, she knew what to do. It’d always worked before. She forced the words out. “I—I’m s-sorry.”

  The pressure on her neck eased slightly. Vinnie cocked his head and stared at her as if she were a cockroach he’d like to squash.

  Heart rebelling against the scene they were about to play out, Faith whispered again the hated words that had saved her many times during her marriage. “I’m—sorry.” She knew that to him those two little words meant she was wrong and he was right.

  Leaning in closer, his breath hot and sticky against her cheek, he whispered, “I can’t hear you.”

  Desperate anger helped her draw strength from past experience and forced her voice to a louder octave, “I’m sorry.”

  “Ah, that’s better. But what are you sorry for, Faith?”

  Briefly she closed her eyes, hating him for finding her, hating herself for having been dumb enough to marry him in the first place. “For—running—away,” she ground out.

  Abruptly, he pushed away from her and stood, his feet braced apart, the gun still aimed at her. “Tell me,” he barked.

  She knew the drill. Everything inside her objected, but it was what she had to do. “I—shouldn’t have run away from you. You’re—you’re wonderful, Vinnie, you’re everything a girl could ask for. I was—was a fool not to see that. You were there when I had no one and—and I will always be—grateful to you.”

  With lightning speed, his hand shot out and grabbed the front of her shirt, yanking her to him. “I don’t believe you. I think you like it here.”

  Desperation clawed at her, this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Her stomach knotted in fear. “No, no—I—I don’t.”

  “You’re lying to me, Faith. I don’t like it when you lie. You know how angry that makes me.”

  Remembering his displeasure, the fear and humiliations that went with it, she cringed. “Yes. Yes, I know.”

  “Let’s go.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the porch stairs.

  Mind working frantically to get past the overwhelming fear, she latched on to one thought, stall him. “Wait,” she screamed.

  He ignored her and gave a vicious yank. She stumbled, going down hard on her knees. Pain exploded up her legs and wood splintered into her palms as she tried to break her fall.

  “Get up,” Vinnie yelled.

  Faith looked up and saw his raised fist. Reacting instinctively, she scrambled away. Behind her she heard his frustrated curse and looked back to see him stalking menacingly toward her.

  Panic gripped her. Keep talking, she told herself. “V-Vinnie,” her voice came out a croak, so she tried again. “Vinnie, l-listen to me. You’re wrong, I don’t like it here.” The lie nearly made her retch.

  He continued toward her.

  Beyond desperate now, she elaborated on the lies. “I—I don’t belong on a ranch, I see that now. I belong in New York with you. This hick town can’t compare with the excitement of the city and—and these cowpoke people mean nothing to me.”

  She held her breath as Vinnie stopped and stared at her, mentally gauging her words. She could tell he wasn’t convinced, but she’d gained time.

  Slowly, she stood and continued, the lies bitter on her tongue. “I—I love you Vinnie. It’s al-always been you, you know that. And you love me. You’re coming here proves it. I guess I—just needed to have this show of affection to realize how—much.”

  The subtle change in his expression told her the words were starting to work. He was getting wrapped up in the lies. Dizzy with relief, she continued, hoping to keep him distracted long enough for the sheriff to arrive. “Don’t you know? I’d be nothing without you. I really am sorry for causing you so much trouble, though you hired some good detectives. That was very smart of you. You’re so smart, Vinnie.”

  His chest puffed up at the praise. “Yes, I am.”

  “Of course you are.” Bile rose in her throat at the awful sickness of it all.

  From her peripheral vision, Faith saw a movement at the stairs. She turned slightly and widened her eyes at the sight of Luke stepping up on the porch. Quickly looking back at Vinnie, she hoped he hadn’t followed her gaze with his own.

  But he had. The pit of her stomach dropped to see him whirl away from her and raise the gun. “You’re a dead man,” he shouted.

  Faith reacted. Throwing herself at Vinnie, she used her fingers to claw at the gun in his hand. He shoved her away from him with a hand to her chest, sending her into the wall with jarring force.

  Luke raised his hands in supplication, his expression neutral. Faith watched in horror, not believing Luke would stand there like an open target. Almost as if he dared Vinnie to shoot.

  “Are you a cop?” Vinnie asked, sneering.

  Luke shook his head. “No, this is my ranch.”

  “So, you’re the wife-stealer. I ought to shoot you right now and be done with you.”

  Faith struggled to keep from crying out.

  Luke shrugged. “You could. But there’s no need. You can have her. I’m done with her. You heard her, she loves you. How can I fight that?” Luke inched forward, so slowly and carefully the movement was hardly noticeable.
>
  Faith’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t possibly believe the things she’d said to Vinnie, could he? Or had he figured out the sick game she was forced to play?

  “You’re right, she does love me,” Vinnie postulated, his hawklike features settling into a smug expression. “Come on, Faith, we’re leaving.” Vinnie held out one hand while the other still aimed the gun at Luke’s chest.

  Faith stared at Vinnie’s outstretched hand and then swung her gaze to Luke, who stared back at her, his blue eyes cold and remote. His stance was almost casual, as if they were doing no more than talking about the weather. How could he be so relaxed?

  “Go on, Faith, your husband wants you to leave.”

  Luke’s words sliced a gaping hole into Faith’s heart. I don’t want to leave you, she wanted to scream.

  Faith stepped forward, but refused Vinnie’s hand. She heard his sound of disapproval, but ignored him. Holding her head high, knowing she’d escape again the first chance she got, she marched in front of Vinnie toward the porch stairs. Tears gathered in her eyes as she passed Luke, but she forced her gaze straight ahead.

  Two steps down she heard a noise. She turned back in time to see Luke launch himself at Vinnie. The agility and grace of Luke’s body as he struck out amazed her. The rapid-fire movements of Luke’s limbs connected with Vinnie’s wiry frame, causing a yelp of pain.

  She sagged against the railing in overwhelming relief. Luke wasn’t going to let Vinnie take her. He was living up to his promise. She felt shame for doubting him. Vinnie turned the gun toward Luke and in a blood-pounding moment her elation turned to terror. She cried, “Nooo.”

  Unbelievably, Luke stepped in closer, his hands closing around the barrel of the gun. The two men moved in unison, their chests close together as they fell to the porch floor.

  Faith covered her mouth with her hands. Fear for Luke washed over her in giant waves, making her nauseous.

  The loud retort of the gun split the air, the acrid smell of gun powder burning Faith’s nostrils. Shudders ripped through her body at the thought that she might have lost Luke to Vinnie’s gun.

  Her heart stopped beating. Please, God. Neither man moved for what seemed an eternity, then suddenly Luke rolled away and stood. In his hand he held the gun. Faith whimpered in relief. Thank You.

  She rushed to his side as he bent to check Vinnie’s pulse. “Is he—?”

  “He’s alive,” Luke stated and met her gaze.

  “Drop the gun.”

  Startled, Faith jerked her gaze around to find the source of the command as Luke’s arm came around her waist. Three men stood near the side of the house. Two held guns aimed at them. Both men were dressed in long trench coats and shiny dress shoes. Faith blinked as her mind registered the smaller man without a weapon. He wore jeans, a leather bomber jacket and his dark hair fell forward over his brown eyes. “Anthony?”

  “I said drop the gun,” the man on the right barked.

  Luke laid the gun on the ground and slowly rose, his arm pulling her behind him. “You know these men?” Luke asked over his shoulder to her.

  “Yes. No. I mean—Anthony is Vinnie’s brother.” She tried to step forward, but Luke held her still, his body protecting her. “What’s going on?”

  The bigger of the two men shoved Anthony forward and he stumbled to a halt. “Sorry, Faith. I never meant to drag you into this.”

  “Drag me into what?”

  “Enough chitchat,” the older of the other two men stepped forward. His demeanor made it obvious he was in charge. “Get it.”

  Anthony grimaced. “Faith, I need your prayer-box necklace.”

  “What? Why?” She resisted the urge to reach inside her shirt collar and finger the box.

  “I wrote down a number on the back of the prayer. I need that number,” Anthony explained, his gaze showing desperation.

  “So that’s what you were doing in my room.” She remembered the day she’d walked in to the bedroom that she’d shared with Vinnie a week before she left. Anthony had been going through her jewelry. She’d figured he’d swiped something to pawn for money to support his gambling habit, but nothing had been missing.

  “I need that number or they’re going to kill me,” Anthony pleaded.

  “How do you know that once you give it to them, they won’t kill you, and us, anyway?” Luke demanded harshly.

  “You don’t,” the older man stated. His ruddy complexion grew redder with the cold air. “Now get it. I’m freezing here.”

  “Faith, please. Just do as they ask. Where is it? Inside?” Anthony stepped closer.

  “What’s the number to?” Luke asked.

  “Now if we told you that, we’d really have to kill you,” the younger man quipped.

  “Shut up, Junior,” the older man barked. “Just get the number. I’m running out of patience.”

  The slight squeak of the porch door sounded seconds before the loud bang of a shotgun. Faith yelped, Anthony dove to the ground with his arms covering his head, the two men swung their guns to ward the house and Luke bent to grab the gun from the ground.

  Dottie, looking fierce holding a twelve-gauge shotgun aimed at the chest of the older man, moved to the top of the stairs. “Throw your guns on the ground or you’ll take one in the chest.”

  The older man lifted his hands, his gun aimed in the air. “Now, listen here, I just want what’s mine.”

  “You heard the lady, put down your weapons.” Sheriff Bane came from around the house, a gun in his hand, as well.

  Faith clutched Luke’s arm, feeling like she’d somehow been plopped down in the middle of some gangster movie. The distant wail of a siren grew louder, bringing hope of an end to this daylight nightmare.

  The older man swore and dropped his gun. The big guy did as his boss. Within moments, the place was swarming with uniformed police officers and men in navy vests with the letters FBI emblazoned across them in bright yellow. Luke helped Faith to the porch, where he took the shotgun from his mother before going to talk with the sheriff.

  Faith watched the activity with numb detachment. The two strangers and Anthony were cuffed and put into a cruiser. The private investigator was also apprehended. Leo and Charles had been found tied up in the barn. Vinnie only had a leg wound. Paramedics worked to stop the bleeding.

  Unsure how she felt about Vinnie surviving, Faith clenched her hands together. On the one hand she was grateful Luke wasn’t responsible for a death. Yet, with Vinnie alive, her nightmare still lived on. She knew he wouldn’t stay in jail forever and then he’d come looking for her again.

  She dug out the prayer box from inside the collar of her shirt. Carefully, she opened the lid and pulled out the rolled paper. She stared at the numbers across the back. What were they to? She hurried to where the FBI agent who seemed to be in charge stood giving orders.

  “Excuse me,” she said as she approached.

  “Ma’am,” he responded. “Agent Tanner at your service. Can I help you?”

  “Yes, sir.” She held out the paper. “This is what the men were looking for. Do you know what it is?”

  Luke stepped close but didn’t touch her. She wished he’d put his arm around her, she needed his solid strength.

  “Yes, ma’am. This is a numbered bank account. Mr. Fernando and his associates run a gambling and drug operation in Miami. Hopefully, this will be enough to put them away for a long time.”

  “How did you know they were here?”

  He lowered his voice. “We have a man on the inside of the operation.”

  “What does Vinnie have to do with any of this?” she asked.

  “From what Mr. Campbell, here, tells me, your ex-husband was stalking you. Other than a means for Fernando to find you, Vinnie wasn’t involved with the operation. But he will be dealt with on the stalking issue. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  Agent Tanner left, taking the two men from Miami and Anthony with him. Luke went to talk with the sheriff.

  Needing something to
do, Faith righted the chairs and table. Beneath her feet, she heard the crunch of paper and saw the mail scattered about.

  Bending down, she began to pick up the pieces of paper and froze as her hand closed around the official-looking envelope. Sadness gathered in her heart. She knew she had to give the letter to Luke.

  Her gaze settled on him. He bent down close to where Vinnie was stretched out on a gurney. She frowned. What could he be saying to Vinnie? The ambulance attendants stood a good distance away, leaving Luke alone with the wounded man.

  She could see the same hardness in Luke’s face that she’d seen earlier, but there was also a menacing quality to his expression that sent a chill down her spine. This was the man who’d spent the last decade in the military.

  From the wide-eyed, scared look on Vinnie’s face, Faith could only assume that whatever Luke was saying was having an impact on her ex-husband.

  Luke moved away from Vinnie and the attendants lifted the gurney into the ambulance. She released a sigh of relief when the vehicle rumbled down the drive. A powerful sense of momentary freedom infused her, but did nothing to dispel the ache in her heart.

  With the letter in hand, she walked down the stairs and over to where Luke stood talking with the sheriff. Both men turned at her approach and Sheriff Bane tipped his hat before ambling away.

  Luke’s penetrating gaze caught Faith off guard. She swallowed back the urge to fling herself into his arms and ask him to hold her until she felt safe again. Instead, she said, “Thank you, again.”

  He nodded, his gaze never wavering. She couldn’t ascertain what he was thinking, so with a trembling hand she held out the envelope and felt a part of her shrivel up into a tight ball. He would open the letter and go to wherever he’d been assigned.

  For a long moment neither moved. He looked at the envelope then back to her face. His hand reached out and closed over hers. “Faith, I…”

  “It’s okay, Luke,” she interrupted him, wanting to spare him from having to say the words or her from hearing them. “We both knew this moment would come.”