by Angi Morgan
Tory saw the red-faced rage burst from her partner and covered her face, prepared for the mean left punch she’d received many, many times. It didn’t come. She timidly stood, uncertain what would happen. She’d never seen him like this. A backhand to the side of her cheek spun her across the arm of the couch.
“Get out of here before I really show you what I think,” he bellowed.
Tory ran to the kid’s door, twisted the bolt and darted inside. She’d been frightened of the jerk before, but never like this. That anger she’d seen ripped into his heart—if he still had one.
The bastard who exploded wasn’t her ex-boyfriend. He was worse. She didn’t know what he’d become or what drugs he was doing now, but he’d turned into an angry striking machine.
She shrank to the floor, leaning against the thin wall, her mind whirling with ways to get out of this mess. She couldn’t go back out there and pretend to like that monster.
Three more days. Could she do this for even one?
For Paris? For Patrick? She could do it for him. She would do it for a million dollars. But now she had to come up with a story about her face. She was certain it would be black-and-blue when she went to work the next day. She needed to pretend everything was normal and not give the police any reason to question her.
A cool little hand soothed her hot cheek. “Are you okay, Tory? Your face is sunburned.”
“Yeah. Just a little scared. I’m going to sleep in here tonight.”
“Are you scared of the big man, too? He yells loud like Grandma Weber.” Her small four-year-old hand covered her mouth. “Oops. She yells more when I call her Grandma.”
Lauren’s embarrassed giggle was sweet, but not enough to make Tory forget who’d just hit her into the next county.
Nothing in the room would slide in front of the door. Nothing to use for protection. Just a mattress on the floor and plastic blocks in the corner. Tory heard determined footsteps heading their direction. She braced herself against the thin door.
Silence.
Click.
The bastard had locked her in with their prisoner, and her cell was in her purse in the kitchen.
“I’ll take care of the money arrangements, Tory. You manage the runt,” he shouted through the wood. “And you ain’t going to work no more. I ain’t no babysitter.”
She allowed Lauren to crawl in her lap, hugging the little girl close. This wasn’t the plan.
Lauren tugged on Tory’s shirtfront to get her attention. “How long is Mommy going to be gone? I don’t like it here.”
“Me neither, sweetie. Me neither.”
Chapter Seven
The dilapidated barn stall still held the smell of manure after years of nonuse. Alicia was hot, sticky and had no intention of lying under the cover of the sleeping bag, until Johnny reminded her rat snakes loved barns. The horrible creatures could actually climb into the rafters and wait. So, of course, she couldn’t close her eyes and was stuck searching the decaying wooden beams.
“You just had to mention snakes,” she complained, hearing him actually laugh.
“You ever going to sleep?”
She noticed the flick of an LED watch from his direction.
“What time is it?”
“Twenty-three minutes after the last time you asked,” he mumbled.
He sounded muffled, maybe facedown with his mouth pushed into his muscles. Johnny wasn’t worried about the nasty snakes that bit when they were provoked. He’d never been afraid and had constantly irritated the cold-blooded things when they were younger.
“Are you sure we can’t sleep outside? It’s sweltering in here.” She tossed the bag off her, keeping the zippered end only over her bare feet. “There’s absolutely no breeze.”
“I was only teasing about the snakes, you know.” His clear, rich voice came from slightly higher, like he was raised on his elbows.
He was bare chested, just like he’d been when she’d arrived at the Double Bar earlier that afternoon. The memory of his sculpted muscles sent her thoughts in a wild direction. She chased her thoughts back to slithering, long things hanging above her.
Snakes were a safer subject to concentrate on. The cold eating machines weren’t nearly as likeable as a man who had promised to find Lauren.
“The thought of snakes isn’t really what’s bothering me. I’m letting my mind fixate on it so I don’t think about other things.” Lots of other things.
“Like?” he asked, sounding resigned they were talking in the dark instead of sleeping.
“Lauren’s been gone less than a week and I feel so alone. Every part of me aches.”
“I’d be worried if it didn’t. You’ve taken an emotional beating. Hurting’s a lot better than feeling nothing at all,” he said softly.
“Is that what you feel? Nothing?”
“Me? Negative. I’m confused more than anything.”
She heard the slick of the nylon rustling, gave up and looked at him. The crescent moon still spilled enough light to see a few old wounds on his shoulder. He sat, one arm wrapped around a knee that he’d brought close to his chest.
“Confused? I don’t understand. You were very decisive ordering me what to pack and what to do. I witnessed exactly what your dad is always telling me. How you’re such an in-charge leader and all.”
“My dad?” He drew his brows together, a permanent crease between them now that hadn’t been there in his teens.
“Yeah. I mean, he’d tell me before the stroke.”
He stretched his back by raising his arms above his head.
Goodness, he had muscles on top of muscle. There couldn’t be an inch of fat on him anywhere. She couldn’t watch and looked out the door to the star-studded sky.
“Did you spend a lot of time with Dad?” he asked, settling back against the stall post.
She sat, leaning on the wall opposite him. “Sure. J.W. and Brian checked on me after Dwayne’s dad died and I was alone with Lauren.”
“I didn’t know.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know.”
“I get the picture. I missed quite a bit around here. Hey, we should get some shut-eye. It might be the last sound sleep we get for a while.”
“I don’t think I can sleep. There’s just too much going on in here.” She pointed a finger to her head. “The thoughts are so random. Mixed with a desire to be held. When we hugged out on the drive, I realized just how long it had been since I’ve been in a man’s arms.”
“Alicia.”
“But the guilt mixed throughout all those thoughts makes me want to cry. Lauren’s gone and...and...there’s nobody. I can’t do this alone.” She covered her face with her hands, drawing her knees to her body, suddenly chilled at the prospect of never seeing her daughter again.
“Alicia. Come here.”
John gently tugged her hands into his. He’d moved next to her and wrapped her in his arms, kissing the top of her head as it dropped to his chest. His gentleness warmed her heart. He smoothed her hair and she felt his breath close to her ear.
“Go ahead and cry, just let it go. I’ve got your six.”
* * *
THE WOMAN IN his arms had cried herself to sleep. She’d forgotten about snakes, only to replace one worry with several more—fright, attraction, the unknown. Fatigue had finally claimed her around two in the morning. Earlier, he could have been out like a flipped switch. His life in the navy had taught him the importance of sleeping upon command.
So why couldn’t he sleep?
He was wound tighter than a coil of wire, that’s why. Alicia was more than just a beautiful girl who needed help changing a tire. He was her only chance at finding her daughter. Not to mention freeing his brother.
If his guess was correct, he was the
only chance she had at staying alive. It was logical that her enemies wouldn’t want her around to continue fighting them. If caught, she’d conveniently meet with a fatal accident or suicide, leaving behind a note clearing the Webers. Telling her about the danger wasn’t a current option, but he’d need to sooner or later.
A plan of action was what they needed. Maybe that was what his brain had been searching for before it could rest. What did he have to work with?
Weapons. Just the revolver his dad owned.
Stealth. One thing on their side was that no one knew he was in town. He hadn’t shared with the police department he’d been headed home. Alicia had commented that her friends thought they’d seen Brian drive through town. They could assume Alicia had an accomplice, but they wouldn’t know who. And Mabel had sworn herself to secrecy without being asked.
Communication. He could call his team for information. No one would be monitoring his cell. No. He couldn’t involve the team. He was the lieutenant who’d come up through the ranks. Not only an officer, but a friend. They’d feel obligated to help. This op had to stay off book and had dire consequences if he was caught. It was the end of his career.
Alicia shifted and he let her slide down his ribs, cradling her head in the crook of his arm until she rested on his lap. It was still warm in the barn, but he draped his sleeping bag over her legs anyway. She turned her head and shifted to her side, drawing her hands under her chin.
He could remember another night they’d spent under the stars. Having fallen asleep at the lake, they woke up with the sun and tried to sneak back to their respective homes. Man, oh, man. They’d received a tongue-lashing up one side and down the other from his mom. It was all about how they needed to be responsible. And what if anyone else had seen them?
His mother’s voice was in his head as clear as if she were standing in front of him. You’ve got to take care of the ones you love, Joy-o. How many times had she said that? Boy-o and Joy-o, her nicknames for them. B for Brian and J for John.
How quickly he’d forgotten. Put out of his thoughts to avoid the hurt as soon as she’d been gone.
Was that what Alicia wanted to do? No. She cared too much. But why was she facing this on her own? Where were her brother and dad? What had happened to their property?
More questions that somehow he knew would cause her pain if asked. He couldn’t do that yet.
Alicia was family, according to his mom. She had been since the first time she’d come over for cookies. He hooked her long waves around her ear and stared at her nose, at the freckles that had been there as long as he’d known her. Is she worth losing your career?
“Absolutely.”
His whisper caused Alicia to stir again. He gently placed her head on the sleeping bag and eased away. If he was going to be awake, he might as well make good use of the time. Pulling his phone from his pack, he walked into the field.
He’d debated since leaving the ranch whether to call for assistance. He knew his limitations. There was no doubt he could protect Alicia. And he would find her daughter. But finding the proof to clear his brother of the accusations meant finding the proof that would convict the actual kidnappers.
He owed Brian after everything he’d sacrificed. He’d been mad all this time, and for what? He dialed a number on his way from the barn, walking toward a familiar tree where he, his brother and Dwayne had attempted to build a tree house.
Devlin McClain picked up on the fourth ring. “This had better be good, Sloane. Do you know what time it is?”
“I’ve got a problem, Dev.”
“What’s her name?” His bunkmate laughed.
“Cut the crap. Do you know any former SEALs or specialists in Texas?”
“Texas?” His response sounded much more alert. “Just what kind of trouble are you in?”
“Maybe somebody gone private security? I need some quiet research and fieldwork.”
“I think I can find someone. Seriously, you going to tell me what’s up? Don’t pull that ‘it’s better if you don’t know’ stuff.”
“A friend’s little girl has been kidnapped.”
“Runaway dad? You want me to do a search—”
“No. It’s about the money. I think the kid’s close by. Alicia’s being set up to take the fall.”
John heard a string of words on the other end and couldn’t agree more. “I hate it when they use kids.”
“I can’t take any risks with this one, Dev. Nothing with the team, but I need someone to check out the possible suspects. Someone willing to bend the law a bit.”
“And if you don’t get anywhere? You know who to call?” Dev declared, he didn’t ask or suggest. “With you gone, the team’s been given leave.”
“I can’t ask that, man.”
“How many times you save my hide, John? Anything you need, you’ve got it.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll have someone contact you ASAP. This number secure?”
“Should be. I’ll call if I switch.”
“You should hear from me in a couple of hours. You got someone watching your back?”
“This can go south all sorts of ways. Stay clear. You hearing me?” He hoped his friend took his words seriously. A team of SEALs loose in the area wouldn’t be easy to hide.
“How’s your dad and, um...you see your brother yet?”
Dev was the only person he’d shared a split second of concern with regarding coming home. “Dad’s going to make it. The stroke left him slightly paralyzed and unable to talk.”
“That’s tough, man.”
“Yeah. It’s also something I can’t talk about. I need my battery.”
“Right. Two hours and you’ll hear from me with a time and place to meet locally.”
“There’s a lake nearby. Just tell me when. And thanks, Dev.”
He powered down the cell and stuck it in his back pocket. There was no way he’d be attempting to sleep now. He looked up in the tree, saw an old board still secure at one end and rusty nails on the other. He pulled himself up and yanked, jerking it free.
He could see the entire field from the lower branches. It looked the same as it had the summers he’d played there, with a major exception. No horses. This place used to be full of them.
“John?” Alicia called from the barn door.
“Right here.” He swung down and jogged the fifty yards or so back.
“What were you doing up in the tree?”
“Grabbing this.” He tucked the board in a safe place inside the half-rotten door. “Where are the horses? Have things gotten so hard around here they were shutting down the horse farm and selling the stock?”
“Shauna sold it off.”
“Dwayne’s grandfather must be turning in his grave.” He wanted to tilt her head back to look at him, but he was afraid to touch her. She was vulnerable and attractive, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do. It was not what she needed him to do. “Why are you awake?”
“Same to you. Why are you awake?”
“SEALs rarely get eight hours of shut-eye.”
“Neither do mothers.”
The teasing in her eyes was gone. A look of hopelessness filled her eyes with tears again. She was thinking about Lauren.
“These probably seem like empty words to you, Alicia. But you’ve got to be strong. All the time. Never let your guard down and let the emotion get the better of you. If you do...they win.”
“Right.” She pressed her lips together and joined him leaning on the decaying wood. “What do we do now?”
“That is a very good question.”
Chapter Eight
“Are you sure this is the best of plans? I’d rather be looking for Lauren.” Alicia had mentioned that fact in every other sentence, and John had seemed to ign
ore her. “Maybe we could be doing anything other than illegally entering a house I lived in for a short time.”
She’d gladly stay in the sun waiting. It was much better than heading inside.
“Each visit to this house reminds me of how Shauna manipulated Roy into getting married. Visiting after that was horrible. The first Christmas Dwayne and I were here was excruciating. We were forced to listen to Roy compare Dwayne’s mother to every decision Shauna made. I actually felt sorry for her at one point. But I’m still uncertain this is the best way to use our time.”
“I’ve got a former U.S. Marines specialist looking into the Webers. We’re meeting him at fifteen hundred. He’ll locate every property. Pull their phone and bank records, their emails. We’re going to find Lauren. Trust me.”
“Then what are we doing here?”
“It’s reconnaissance. I need to familiarize myself with the lay of the land again. Maybe find a safe place for you to lay low.” He put a pair of binoculars back to his eyes.
“I told you that the Adams farm is for sale. Shauna lives in Frisco now. The horses are ready to be auctioned tomorrow. She emptied the house of anything worth money and promptly called a local Realtor. It’s still listed, but can’t be sold, much to that witch’s frustration. The house may belong to Shauna, but the land around it belongs to Lauren.”
“Then why are there three cars here?”
“It’s probably the cleaning staff.” Alicia knew one was her father-in-law’s. He’d left the classic to her, but it was caught in probate court. It deserved better care, but she couldn’t afford to professionally store it in the garage. Shauna’s lawsuit prevented her from touching it at all.
She was with John at the edge of the yard, having hiked from the old barn where they’d stayed the night. With no stables to run and no one living in the house, it may have been the safest place for them to hide after all.
They had enough food for a couple of days, and they weren’t in the wilderness by any means. John had grabbed a fishing pole. Hiding wasn’t the problem. He’d convinced her to come with him because they’d be searching for Lauren. But they weren’t.
