Smitt smothered a laugh. All was not rosebuds and champagne in the Blackstone home. On the other hand, Lacey darling had appeared happy as a duck on a pond with her handsome new man.
Damn it. The big man had kissed her. He held her possessively when the fucker had no right. No right to touch what belonged to him. Smitt sucked on his bottom lip. When he learned Lacey darling had married the tall man from Texas, he’d been shocked. Texas. A big state for a big man, but he had his name now. No more mystery. Rafe McCord.
When he finished with Danger, and destroyed Jace Remington, he’d head to Texas, unless he thought of a way to force Lacey back here. Either way, he’d whittle the big man down to size, and reclaim what belonged to him. One way or the other, he’d bring Lacey darling back to Montana.
Smitt studied on it for a minute and decided he didn’t care how many months it took. Balling his hands into fists at his sides, he held back the dark rage that always clawed at his brain. No one had ever loved him. His mother abandoned him to his grandmother when he was born. God knew the old woman was meaner than a pissed-off hornet eight days a week and twice on Sunday. Nellie Davis hadn’t loved anyone. Not the daughter she’d murdered, him, or his grandpa. Grandpa. Killing the old man had been the only murder difficult for him to commit.
Relaxing his hands, Smitt shook the numbness out of his fingers. What happened that late summer evening had somehow changed his way of thinking.
Changed him?
It was like his first ejaculation cleared his brain of smog and smut. At last, he could think, scheme, and plot his future. Just like he’d always been in the way of his granny and grandpa, suddenly they were in his way. From the lessons his old granny had taught him, he could think of only one way to remove his grandparents.
Summoning the old woman to him that long ago summer afternoon had been the beginning, or perhaps he’d only thought it was the beginning. He only knew the anticipation had given him his first raging hard-on. When he swung the ax and cut the bitchy old woman in half, he’d come violently.
Surprised by the wetness warming the front of his jeans, he gawked in the direction of his zipper. “Holy, shit. Holy, holy, shit. I fucking fucked off without fucking off.” He rubbed the wet area and laughed. The thing was he wanted to dance around the barn, whoop and holler, but he didn’t dare do anything to alert the old man. But damn, it’d felt good!
Slowly tossing the ax aside, he stared at his grandmother’s bloody body and laughed. Better than good. It felt great. Quickly, he jerked down his zipper, dragged out his now flaccid member and eyed his new best friend. “So you won’t get up and lose my love juice unless I kill someone? Hot damn, bout time you reacted to something you limp shit!”
He’d spent most of his early teenage years wondering what the heck was wrong with his cock. It never got hard, not like the other boys he saw in the gym showers. Now he knew the reason why. It needed a healthy dose of kill-kill-kill to get a reaction out of it. Excitement flooded his loins. He was sixteen. He’d never had a wet dream, or fucked a girl, but he learned that day that hunting, that preying upon the unsuspecting, and inflicting pain and finally death, made his cock swell hard as a bat. His balls tightened into painful nuggets, and he ejaculated instantly.
Hell, he hit the mother lode, not once, but four times that afternoon, because playing in their blood made his blood heat and race through his veins.
Afterward, his member grew limp almost immediately. It became useless again, until he learned about a certain pill that kept his dick hard for hours. He learned when he killed, he came twice as hard. That summer day, he enjoyed chopping up his grandmother and feeding her to the hogs.
But grandpa, the old man had never lifted a finger to harm him.
Nor had he ever lifted a finger to help him either. No. No one had ever loved him. It was okay, though, because he had a secret. A wonderful secret, and very soon he’d have his queen beside him, his two special ladies at his right and left at the table, his court and his babies.
And they’d all love him for eternity.
Pleased with the future he’d mapped out, Smitt silently dropped to the floor of the loft and crawled flat-bellied. He slithered closer to the edge so he could hear better what the stupid lawman was crooning to the dumb horses in their stalls. A slow smile twisted his wet lips. Ah, a plan began to take shape in the dark regions of his mind...
* * * *
Danger rubbed the velvety nose of Calla, the little black and white mare Lacey had always claimed. “You were her favorite,” he said softly. “She left us, girl. The one thing worth having in my life, and I drove her away. I was stupid, Calla, callous and stupid, all because I couldn’t bring myself to trust her. She loved me…once. No more, though. My fault. All my fault. Oh, God, what have I done?”
He buried his face in the mare’s warm mane and shuddered. “Go ahead, ask me how I did the dumbass things I did to her. I have no answer. I listened to lies, believed them over her denials. Hell, I wanted to believe she was guilty, so I didn’t give her a chance to explain. In my arrogance, I condemned her. God, I let her walk away without fighting for her. I was terrified of losing her, so I didn’t stop until I did.”
Danger lifted his head and knuckled the moisture from his eyes. He moaned deep in the back of his throat. “Not manly to cry, is it, Calla? Right now, I don’t feel like much of a man.”
Grimacing, he rubbed the ache between his eyes. He thought maybe it was shadow pain, like what an amputee had after losing a limb. No matter, the damn growth in his brain had caused him to flip out months ago. It hadn’t helped that he’d delayed seeing a doctor, and once he did, refused to take pain killers.
He was pretty sure he’d caught Karen lacing his coffee this morning with something to relieve his stress, but he wasn’t certain. Even so, he’d dumped the cup when she wasn’t looking and wondered if he was getting paranoid again.
Hell, it was no wonder his head throbbed, but at least he wasn’t having the awful nose bleeds anymore. Every step he took, jarred his head, but he refused to go easy on himself. He deserved pain. Nothing he suffered began to compare to what Lacey went through. Battling constant nausea made him sicker than he already felt, and the tiny holes they’d drilled in the back of his skull throbbed.
No doubt, he should have stayed a few more days in the hospital, but he couldn’t bear to remain there, isolated from his ranch, from Lacey, from everything and everyone he loved. He figured he could lie around at home and recoup as easily as in the hospital, but he hadn’t counted on Karen’s constant nagging. The woman was driving him insane.
Walking to the barn had left him feeling drained, but he knew it was good for him. And he’d needed a break from Karen’s endless chatter about nothing and her complaints about how big her belly was getting with his baby. He hadn’t counted on the trip from the hospital making him deathly sick to his stomach, nor the fight with Karen over the way she’d decorated the den.
He’d actually vomited when he saw the garish colors of the new wallpaper. Why hadn’t he seen before that the woman had no taste? That she was every bit as brash as her decorating? But the final argument with Rafe had been the clincher, leaving his head pounding, a steady ache that still hadn’t gone away.
Not that the Texan argued.
Rafe didn’t argue. He was the kind of man who told it like it was—a straight shooter. Hell, Rafe drove away with Lacey, and that was that, but Danger knew in his heart, the Texas lawman would never have touched her if he hadn’t pushed him into following through with the desire the man felt for her.
Danger rubbed a hand across his brow. He’d set the entire thing up, given Rafe the green light. It was no one’s fault but his own that Rafe walked away with the prize. He sure as hell couldn’t fault him for loving Lacey or sleeping with her. Danger bit the inside of his cheek. The pain was nothing compared to what pierced his heart and soul. The thing was, he’d always known, somehow felt, that if Rafe ever touched Lacey, she’d be lost to him forever
. He was such a fool. He’d given her up, given her to Rafe without a fight.
Deep inside, where it counted most, he’d known the only way Lace would ever sleep with the Texan would be because she’d fallen out of love with him and in love with the ex-agent.
He’d made damn certain she fell out of love with him.
“Stupid. I was so stupid, Calla. How do I win her back? How can I make her love me again? I need answers and I don’t have any.” He clenched his fists at his sides. “I’m not giving up. I’m not letting her get away this easy.” Danger closed his eyes, drew a sharp breath, and swore harshly. “Sonofabitch! I’m not letting Rafe keep her. She’s mine.”
The cold air made his lungs ache. He didn’t care. He deserved to suffer. He’d destroyed something good, hurt a wonderful woman, all because he couldn’t lay down his past and trust in her love. She’d been his miracle and he hadn’t been able to believe in it.
It gave him little comfort to admit Rafe would take care of her. Danger rubbed the mare’s sleek coat. “He loves her, Calla. Rafe loves her. He’s better for her than I am, than I could ever be. He’s a good man. He’ll take care of her, much better than I did. I was too busy doubting her word, suspicious of her every move, skeptical of her love for me. I was worried she’d let me down, but God, Calla, I let her down instead. I was guarded with her, when she should have been wary of me.
“She hates me, and I don’t blame her. I nearly cost Lace her life by not being here when she needed me most. I did cost our son’s life. She’ll never forgive me for that and I don’t blame her.” His voice cracked. A deep moan wrenched from his gut. He dropped to his knees and sobbed. “I cost us our little boy, and there’s nothing I can do to fix that. Her baby. My sister. Dear God, it would have been better if I’d died. Lace deserves to be happy. The right thing to do would be to let her go. Wouldn’t it?”
Danger buried his face in his hands and remained there, ignoring the passing minutes, ignoring the freezing temperature. Grief stricken, it felt as if the world had crashed down around him, and for the first time, he faced the wrongs he’d done to the woman he loved.
The loss.
The terrible waste.
Anguish ripped through his soul. He thought his heart would die from the pain of his loss. Moaning, he rocked back and forth. “Oh, God, I know I don’t deserve it, but let her find it in her heart to someday forgive me. It’s all I ask…her forgiveness.”
Minutes passed. Danger couldn’t bring himself to get up. He thought if it would bring Lacey back to him, he’d remain on his knees for the rest of his life, but he knew in his soul she was gone, and she wasn’t coming back, ever.
Still he prayed for the absolution he couldn’t grant himself. At last, he rose unsteadily to his feet. He thumbed away the streaks of tears, but even that release hadn’t soothed his broken spirit, nor granted him the peace he sought.
He figured nothing ever would, not until he talked to Lacey again. Alone. He resented the fact that two other people kept them apart, but there was nothing he could do to change it. And soon, there’d be a third. Karen’s baby. His baby. God, what the hell was he thinking making that woman pregnant?
Danger finished checking the stalls—made certain the horses had plenty of food and water, then turned to leave. It was cold and getting colder. The wind howled and the snow fell so thick he could barely see the house.
Karen waited for him there, in the bed he and Lacey had once shared. Jesus. He and Karen had sex that afternoon, but the woman never seemed to be satisfied. She’d be waiting in the house, naked and demanding. He had to crawl back in bed with her, and God, he felt as if he was crawling in bed with a snake. He could barely stand the sight of her. Again, his reckless stupidity had landed him in this idiotic mess.
Hell, Coe, his twin, wouldn’t even speak to him. That was a first. Coe rarely shut up. But his brother had given notice and said he was going where Lacey went, to Triangle, Texas, because she had more sense than his own brother.
He’d stared at Coe, stunned that his brother was willing to move so far from home. Coe was all the family he had left, except for his niece and brother-in-law, and Anna’s widower wasn’t too friendly these days either.
“Look, it’s time I got out of Rimrock and made a life anyway, maybe find some little gal to marry and have enough damn sense to treat her right, unlike someone else I can name,” Coe stated the day he announced his decision to leave Rimrock.
Danger nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to argue with him. His brother felt Lacey needed his protection. He agreed, but Danger wasn’t so sure either Lacey or Rafe would welcome his twin. Lacey wanted a change. She wanted to leave the Blackstones behind. He could hardly fault her for it.
In another week, Coe would leave. There was nothing he could say or do to make his brother change his mind. Danger slammed the barn door behind him and trudged back to the house. Hopefully Karen was asleep. Conversation with her was simply beyond him at the moment.
Besides, Lacey occupied all his thoughts, and Karen seemed to have a sixth sense about when his mind was on his ex-wife. And Karen—he had a bad feeling the woman might be a bit unstable.
Danger bowed his head. God, what a mess he’d made of everything.
Chapter Fifteen
There are good days and there are bad days, and this is one of them.
~Lawrence Welk
West Virginia-Ohio Border
February 17, Tuesday
Five hours after the assassination…
Duel slowed the black Porsche, whipped onto Exit 31 as the sign indicated, and rolled into the dark, isolated roadside park. It wasn’t one of those with all the amenities the big rest areas boasted about, but a single picnic table and trash barrel worked just fine.
He needed neither, except for a bit of privacy. When a man needed to drain his lizard, anywhere within reason worked rather well.
At this point, the thick air of hostility radiating from baby Hitler bounced off his thick hide. He didn’t give a good damn if he offended her sensibilities or not. He had to piss. For him, it was top priority at the moment or his bladder was going to rupture.
Lucky for him, he’d handcuffed the little tyrant. It wasn’t conducive for gratitude or friendship, but he was past considering her delicate feelings.
He snorted. “Delicate feelings my ass.”
The look she sent him could have frozen the already ice-covered ground outside. The woman might look like an angel, but she was a friggin’ whampus cat. Hell, he bet if he looked close enough, he’d find a set of horns underneath that wild mane of red hair.
She’d tried to bite him while he was driving and nearly caused them to crash. The only thing that had stopped her was his threat to punch her lights out again.
She looked around now. “What are you doing?” It was the first calm words the woman had spoken in hours. Her voice quivered. For the first time, he detected a hint of fear in her voice, as if she believed he’d pulled off the Interstate for nefarious reasons. Good! Let her stew.
“I have something to do.” He grunted the words. He wasn’t feeling up to polite conversation. Shit, it hurt to move. His chest and arm were killing him. What he needed was a clean motel room, a hot shower, fresh clothes that weren’t covered in dried blood as well as wet, and a few sutures.
And pain killers would be nice. Lots of nice pain killers. Wasn’t happening anytime soon, none of it was happening.
“What? Is this it?”
Squinting, he studied her. “Is this it? What it?”
“The end of the line?”
“Lady, you make very little sense. Just zip your mouth. I don’t even wanna talk to you or hear your voice.”
“Aww. You’re mad because I stabbed you?”
Did she have to sound so damn smug?
“Am I mad? Horse shit. Yeah, you could say that. I’m beyond miserable, thanks to you. If you think this trip is going to be pleasant for you, you’re wrong. I hurt.”
“Good,”
she said sweetly. “I hope your arm rots off.”
“Jesus Christ. I liked you better when you weren’t yakking. Shut-up, or I’ll gag you. And you should know when I hurt, I get testy.”
“You’re a man, aren’t you? Never met one yet that’s not a wuss when it comes to a little pain.”
He glared at her. “Want me to stab you and see if you like it?”
“Think you can best me in a fair fight?”
“Fair fight?”
“Yes, fair,” she snapped. “You cheated. You slugged me.”
“You stabbed me,” he shot back.
“I was defending my home!”
“I was defending my body.”
She arched a brow. “Yeah, like it needs it. Where are we?”
Like it needs it? What was that supposed to mean? “Nowhere important,” he replied testily. “And I told you to shut up.”
“Make me. Where are you taking me?”
“As of my stabbing, you’re on a need-to-know basis. When I decide you need to know, I’ll tell you.”
She snorted. “Anyone ever tell you you’re an—”
“All the damn time, so I don’t need to hear it from you.” Duel didn’t want to talk to her. He sure as hell didn’t want to think about her and her remark about his body. She’d come around about an hour after they were cruising. At first, she’d mostly struggled to break free of the cuffs, but once she realized there was no snapping the links, she called him every name in the book, in between demanding her freedom, and making vile threats to his family jewels and its lone appendage.
Sure, he ignored her. Duel figured his cock and balls were safe as long as he kept them out of harm’s way. He’d driven for hours now. They were a long way down the highway, a long way from her home in Virginia, but not nearly far enough.
In the beginning, he tried to reassure her. He informed her he’d locked her house good and tight. He even grabbed a couple of changes of clothes for her, jeans, T-shirts, shoes, and socks—panties and bras. She’d looked more horrified than relieved, so he’d hushed. Wretched, ungrateful woman!
Playing For Keeps (Montana Men) Page 17
