Her tiger-colored eyes appeared too big for her gaunt face since she’d lost so much weight. She looked small and fragile. Lacey might have survived the vicious attack, but his wife still had a long way to go before she was completely healed, physically and mentally.
“I don’t want you to question how I feel about you,” she said quietly, stubbornly. “You were there for me when I needed you most.”
He smiled. “I was always there for you, honey, you just didn’t see me.”
“No, Rafe. I mean you were there for me that day when you found me in the well. I was dying. I wanted to die. I thought I deserved to die. You saved me. I’ll always love you for that, and I love you for being the man who was there for me when Danger walked away.”
For the first time, Rafe saw a glint of the old Lacey. Her inner strength. Her determination. He knew then she’d be okay, that one day, she’d be the woman she’d been before Smitt’s attack.
“Danger’s a part of my past. I need to leave him there and move forward with my life. With you. I can’t look back at what was. I can’t think about what was lost. My son. Our baby. I need to box it all up and put it away until I’m ready to open it again, and accept the loss, accept my part of the blame and responsibility for what happened to Joseph.” A sob caught in her throat. “I let him die, Rafe. Do you have any idea how weak or cowardly that makes me feel to know I laid there on the floor, and let that monster kill my baby? I didn’t lift a finger to save him.”
Rafe swallowed hard at the shame and despair in her voice, at the sheen of tears he saw in her eyes, at her self-blame and guilt. “Oh, God, Lace. Sweetheart, don’t do this. Don’t. Don’t blame yourself. In no way was it your fault. You fought to live under the worst of circumstances. You survived. You did it. That’s not weak, baby. You had two bullets in you, sweetheart, besides the other injuries he inflicted. I suspect by the time Smitt attacked Joseph, you were already wounded badly in so many other ways you couldn’t even help yourself.”
“I tried to move. I couldn’t do anything.”
“You’d lost a lot of blood. You were lucky you were still breathing at that point. You couldn’t have stopped him from what he did to Joseph, no more than you could stop him from what he did to you, our baby and Anna. It wasn’t your fault. It was a tragedy for all of us, but no one is at fault, least of all you.”
“I want another baby, Rafe.” Lacey clutched his upper arms, her voice filled with desperation. “I know what I said before about waiting, but to wait…I think it’s a bad idea. My arms feel empty. My soul is cold and barren. I need to smell the sweet warm scent of my newborn against my breasts. I need to hear the cries of my baby, our baby. Our child. I can’t bear this otherwise—bear the silence, the loss.” She sniffed. “I want to start a family with you right away.”
Rafe brushed the tears from her face and pressed a tender kiss to her brow. His heart clenched, but he forced a smile to his mouth and leaned back. “I think that’s my line.”
“It is, but I decided to borrow the words from you.” She gave him a watery smile. “Why don’t I walk with you to the diner? We can eat there.”
“You sure? I don’t mind bringing the food back here.”
“I want to go with you. There’s been too much distance between us since we married. We’ve had so little time together.”
He couldn’t argue that. The woman must have read his mind. He grinned. “On second thought, stay here where it’s nice and warm. I’ll grab us a couple of club sandwiches and a bag of chips. I’ll be right back. We’ll eat in bed and wallow in potato chip and bread crumbs.”
A tiny laugh escaped her. “Crumbs?”
He smiled. “Sound tempting?”
“You’re tempting.” Lacey stroked the side of his face. “So you better hurry.”
He touched the brim of his hat. “Yes, ma’am, hurry’s my middle name.” Rafe understood her silent communication. She needed him, if for nothing more than to hold her in his arms and love her with his hands and mouth. By God, he was the lucky man honored with that privilege and he aimed to please. “Lock the doors, baby. Don’t open them for anyone.”
She shivered. “I won’t.”
Rafe adjusted the front of his jeans. Hell, discussing them making a baby had made him hard as an iron bar. He ducked his head and headed across the highway to the all-night diner flashing its red and blue neon sign. Rafe wondered if he’d ever stop getting hard whenever he was near his wife. His wife. He savored the sound of those two words. His wife. His woman. Hell, his dick twitched just at the thought of the words.
He didn’t think any man had ever had the hots for a woman the way he did for Lacey Blackstone—McCord. He had to remember she was Lacey McCord now. Starting tonight, he intended to burn the memory of the Blackstone name from her heart and out of her mind.
He didn’t want her to remember being anyone’s wife but his. He didn’t want her to recall the nightmare of her last year with Danger. He wanted the memory of the other man permanently erased from their life. There was nothing left to bind the sheriff or Lacey together, nothing but bitter memories, and the loss of their son.
Rafe grinned. He intended to blot Danger out of her life forever, make new memories with Lacey, ones that bound her to him until the day he died. If it was within his power, neither he nor Lacey were ever returning to Rimrock, Montana again.
Chapter Fourteen
Even psychopaths have emotions, then again, maybe not.
~Richard Ramirez
Blackstone Ranch
Rimrock, Montana
February 17, Tuesday
Three hours and thirty minutes after the assassination…
Smitt Davis was fully awake and alert when the barn door squeaked open in the wee hours of the morning. Fuck! How was a man supposed to sleep when it was cold enough to freeze off his balls, and people kept coming and going at all hours on the Blackstone Ranch?
First, Lacey darling and that sonofabitch she’d left Danger for—she probably fucked the big man, too, maybe even right here in the barn. She’d been pregnant by someone other than her stud of a sheriff husband, the cheating bitch. That much information he’d cut out of her while he was slicing her belly open.
No matter how many times he cut her, she’d refused to give him the name of the man she’d screwed. It was no wonder he went a little crazy torturing her.
After Lacey darling and her fuck buddy left the sheriff’s ranch, one of the Remington ranch hands dropped by to check on Danger. Now, the invalid sheriff was prowling around in the barn like some kind of feral cat hunting a mouse. Hell, why couldn’t he remain in the house with his new bride, instead of coming out here and disturbing his rest?
Inside their stalls, the horses tramped and snorted, welcoming the early hour visitor with soft knickers. Smitt’s upper lip curled. Stinking animals. All they did was eat, snort, piss, and shit. He detested them. If he didn’t need warm shelter out of the snowstorm, which apparently had no end in sight, he’d light a match to the barn and cook the fuckers.
But he didn’t loathe the four-legged shitters nearly as much as he despised being stranded in this lousy weather, or the man standing below near the stalls, disturbing his solitude.
A sneer flitted across his lips. How he ached to go down there and taunt the sheriff, tell him just how good it felt to titty-fuck Lacey. Describe to him in detail the many times he’d run the knife slowly across her belly, and how he’d taken great pleasure in killing that screaming brat, Joseph.
One day soon he intended to give the sheriff the graphic details of everything he’d done to darling Lacey, and more, he intended to tell Danger just how deep Smitt’s role was in destroying his life.
He stood in the deep shadows in the loft above and peered down at the sight below him. Smitt liked existing on the edge of his victim’s world, waiting in the gloom, an undetected, underworld figure. Furtive. Unheard. He thrilled to the fact he knew things the sheriff had no clue about. Soon. Very soon he’d share hi
s wealth of information and watch the hotshot lawman squirm.
Like a spider lurking, watching and listening, Smitt waited. Waited. Waiting. Always waiting, always requiring patience. He liked to plan his moments of attack, catch his targets with their defenses down. Unguarded. Like now.
Right this moment, Danger was still weak from surgery. Still confused. His mind was shattered from the attack on Lacey, and the loss of his son and sister. Perfect. It meant the know-it-all sheriff wasn’t paying attention to the little things going on right under his nose.
And oh, there was more to come. Smitt could hardly swallow back his glee. He wanted to dance. Laugh. Hell, he felt like kicking up his heels. Oh what surprises lay in store for the smart-ass, cocky lawman. Smitt grinned and licked his lips. Oh yes, his little game of cat and mouse had only just begun. So much more to come, but he was nothing if not patient. Waiting was part of the thrill, part of the game, his perfect little game.
And the anticipation was a major turn-on.
He enjoyed matching wits with the smart bastards around him—the high and mighty Remingtons with their power, money, men, and snobbish women. Hell, he’d walked right up on Kaycee and Jace and their little blanket party. He’d nailed the sonofabitch too, brought Jace to his knees.
If Kaycee, the interfering bitch, hadn’t had that damn gun crammed in her boot, he’d have finished Jace off and then she’d be seated at his table where she belonged. Her belly would be near to bursting with the three babies she carried that belonged to him. Him! His swimmers were the ones that raced up inside her and pumped her up real good. The babies belonged to him. He intended to have them. Jace was trying to steal what belonged to him. Well he wouldn’t let the big man win.
And Danger Blackstone, who hadn’t been able to keep his cock in his pants and remain faithful to Lacey darling, would have been just as dead as the rich and mighty King Remington, but his plans had gone a little awry with Lacey’s rescue.
No matter. Everything would get back on the right track soon. He snickered. If the sheriff only knew what surprises lay in store for him.
Oh yes, a joyous day was coming, and it was right around the corner. It gave him a sense of supremacy to know he knew something important—something the sheriff, with all his fancy investigation, failed to discover. Smitt smiled. He couldn’t wait to see Danger’s expression when he realized just what was going on under his nose.
He felt as if he was akin to God, the one with the power to grant life or death, to share information or keep it his sweet secret was a thrill Smitt couldn’t begin to explain or purge. There was only one way to cleanse and that was with smoking, hot sex.
The one big mistake he’d made was Lacey darling. He hadn’t meant for her to survive. She’d been in the way of his plans. Even if Joseph’s screaming hadn’t shattered his control, his intent from the start had been to remove Lacey and that bratty kid of hers out of the way. He’d only succeeded in one of his goals. Killing the sheriff’s sister was a bonus he hadn’t anticipated, but oh, it’d given him such a high.
When he dumped Lacey darling in the well, he’d thought she was dead, but no, the bitch had still been breathing. He should have put a bullet in her brain before tossing her in that cold, black hole.
It hadn’t taken him long to realize he’d got rid of her real fast. Too fast, maybe, but he’d been in a hurry to find Kaycee. Dumping Lacey in that well had been fun and easy, but every time he’d thought about her, something niggled at him. He kept thinking he’d seen her tits move with the faintest of breaths right before he sent her body over the lip of the well.
Unable to leave it alone, he worried she was still alive. He knew it, felt it in his bones. He’d gone back to check, to ease his mind, and nearly got caught for his efforts.
Deep inside, chills had rushed through his blood when he watched the chopper lift off with her, the big man holding her like she was something special to him. He’d known immediately that man was the father of the baby he’d ripped from Lacey’s womb. There had been something very intimate between them.
Smitt licked his dry lips and rubbed his crotch, recalling the fun he’d had torturing Lacey. Damn, he should have fucked her that day, but things had got a bit out of hand, a bit out of focus. All that blood. Lacey’s blood. How it excited him.
Painting her kitchen wall in red letters with her blood had been like celebrating Christmas. He’d slipped over the edge a little, doing things to her he couldn’t even recall, but he knew it was things that hurt her, made her bleed, and he knew he’d thrilled to every second of pain he inflicted upon her, savored every drop of blood she lost. Her pain. His pleasure.
He always went over the edge into darkness when he tortured his victims, but that day with Lacey darling, he sank a little deeper into the madness than he ever had before. Still, after his fun, he should have made certain she wasn’t breathing.
Instead of tossing her in that old well, he should have dumped her in the woods. Left exposed to the elements, weak and bleeding, the wolves and bears would have finished the job for him.
Lacey, bitch that she was, had stubbornly clung to life, and now he knew there was a reason. She was meant to be his, forever in his cave, one of his brides. Yes, he wanted her back, to keep her. She’d proved she was a survivor. There were very few women, he’d discovered, worthy of sheltering and incubating his seed. Kaycee Remington was a fighter. He wanted to give her the honorable position of being seated to his right, and now Lacey had earned the slot to his left.
But there was only one woman good enough to sit beside him at the head of the table. His queen. His wife. He grinned. His sweet, sweet wife. One day soon, she’d take her rightful place beside him. The king and queen, and his females, each carrying a child he’d put in her.
In the meantime, Kaycee was married and settled right here in Rimrock where he kept a close eye on her. Wife to Jace Remington and heavily pregnant with triplets, babies he knew were from his powerful seed and not from Jace’s weak loins—she wasn’t going anywhere.
Lacey—he’d either have to go get her, or figure out a way to force her back here where she belonged. Yeah, Smitt liked that idea. Force her back to where she didn’t wanna be—right here in Rimrock, under Danger’s nose. Under his. He’d show the bitch where she belonged, and just who she belonged to. First, he had to kill the tall man.
Smitt rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Yeah. He’d cut off the man’s dick and shove it down his throat for touching his Lacey darling.
A queen and a couple of princesses—how lucky he was to have found his perfect queen, and now they had a family. They’d sit at the table, right where they all belonged. Soon. Very soon. The other six brides—the other six he still had to find, but he wasn’t as particular about them as he was the first three.
Feeling smug at the way he’d outsmarted Danger, Smitt hugged his shoulders and rocked back and forth. Listening to the sheriff talk to the horses in soft murmurs annoyed him. It distracted him from his daydreams of Lacey and Jace’s bitch of a wife. One day he’d ram a knife so deep in the sheriff’s kidney Danger would piss blood for the rest of his life. How he savored the thought of killing the tough lawman.
Smitt watched Danger move from stall to stall, patting and soothing the paints. The sheriff was oh, so fucking proud of them. Smitt listened to how he coaxed them to eat from his hands and whispered their names. Hell, it was enough to give a man a hard-on the way the sheriff sweet-talked to those critters.
Smitt balled his hands into fists at his sides, and focused his full attention on the sheriff’s wide back. How easy it would be to take him. He smothered a laugh, and tallied in his mind the last few months and weeks of Danger’s dismal life—weak, a bit rattled over the loss of that screaming brat. Still uncertain of the role his new wife plays in his future. Newly divorced. Ex-wife not only slept with another man right there in his home, but became pregnant by other man. Ex-wife sexually abused and sliced and diced on the kitchen floor. Dead son. Dead siste
r. New wife. New baby on the way. Brawl in the hospital with tall man over ex-wife. Brain surgery. Against medical advice, checked self out of hospital just hours after surgery. Motor skills still not up to scratch. Brother-in-law not speaking to him. Twin brother pissed at him. New wife nagging about decorating the house to suit her personality. Ex-wife off with new husband to begin a life of wedded bliss. Smitt snickered. New husband would likely have ex-wife knocked up pronto. Aww, the sheriff had definitely had a few rough patches lately. Smitt could barely contain his glee. Lordy, he’d walked right inside the lawman’s home today, walked in, and hid inside the guest bedroom. Neither Danger nor his new wife had been any the wiser.
Hell, he’d even heard them having make-up sex. He’d got so hard he’d ended up dragging his cock out of his jeans and whacking off. The satisfaction he’d felt when he spilled his seed on the fancy new candy-pink comforter Danger’s recently acquired wife had bought, and put on the bed just that morning, had been beyond description.
He left a condom trailing on the bed, too, just to be certain one of them discovered the little gift he’d left staining the comforter. While they showered, he grabbed some food from their fridge and skedaddled back to the barn. There, he settled in for what he planned as a few days relaxation right under the stupid sheriff’s nose.
While he’d hid in that bedroom, he listened to them argue all day over changing the decoration and furnishings from the way Lacey darling had done them. Smitt grinned. Hell, much as he hated to agree with Danger Blackstone about anything, he had to admit sweet Lacey had far better taste in furnishings than the sheriff’s badgering new wife.
He snickered. How funny that Danger’s bride won the battle. He’d gloated over the way the sheriff caved, giving into her wheedling. Danger had stormed away telling her to do whatever the fuck she wanted.
Playing For Keeps (Montana Men) Page 16
