“Let me think about it. You kicked me in the balls the last time we saw each other.” He drummed his fingers on his chin. “You never worried about my well-being, so why should I care if you’re tied too tight?”
“I’m your sister. And I’m sorry for everything that happened to you.”
“Really? You gave up that right when you chose your new mother and father.” He paused to empty his drink. After he’d refilled it, he hoisted his glass toward the dead man. “Excellent wine, Richard.”
“You killed my parents, didn’t you?”
“I told you. I took everybody from you. Figure it out.” He smiled and appeared to be proud of what he’d done. “I wonder. Did you really suffer? After all, they weren’t your real family.”
“I loved them dearly.”
“Did you? Then I’m glad I killed them.” He picked up the knife, ran his finger along the side of the blade, smearing her blood as he went. He stood and advanced, still wearing that sickening smile.
She braced for him to slice her arm or leg again, but the knife pierced her right shoulder, sinking into her flesh. He jerked the blade out quickly. Chris cried out and tried to lean into the pain, but her shoulders felt as if they were being ripped from their sockets.
“Oh, stop,” he said using a whiny tone. “None of these”—he stuck the blade into her abdomen and pulled it out—”are very deep. Are you getting weaker? I’d rather you not bleed out so soon.”
“If you’re going to kill me, do it!” She couldn’t tolerate his insanity any longer. “Just know that you’re not my full brother. You’re my half-brother.”
He sank to the chair in front of her. “Why would you tell such a lie?” The blade sank deep into her again. “First, you let those people abandon me and now you try to deny me.”
“I saw my adoption papers today. Chelsea and I had the same father. His last name was Shelby. Your last name is Bridger.”
The blade slid slowly across her forearm. “You think I haven’t done my research? Who knows why our junkie mother put Bridger on the birth certificate? Probably to milk some poor bastard out of his money.” He ran his hand over his hair. “All you have to do is look at me. We could be twins.”
“Stop this now, Charlie. I’ll get you help. Stand by you.”
“It was fortunate that I met our friend over there.” He ignored her comment. “He took me in. When I opened the gallery, I decided to use Bridger as my last name. You see”—he leaned closer and whispered—”Charles Shelby is wanted for murder.”
“So is Charles Bridger.”
The change in his demeanor was instantaneous. He dragged the blade down her arm, deeper this time as the blood didn’t ooze, it ran. “They only know my name because of you!”
Darkness called her. A calm and peaceful quiet place where she could rest engulfed her.
****
They were taking a big chance driving this far away from the city. Marcus refused to entertain the idea they could be wrong. Time was running out.
No one had seen Richard Franklin, but he fit the description from the desk clerk. Dalton had learned that Franklin owned a couple of properties, and one was located outside Fort Worth in deer-hunting country. According to Tomas, none of the people in Franklin’s apartment building thought of him as a hunter.
Marcus appreciated the clear sky, the stars, and especially the full moon, because they were miles away from such things as street lights. They’d parked the rental car and walked down the long, narrow, unpaved drive. Dalton hadn’t suggested they wait for Tomas and Nate. Smart man. No way was Marcus delaying. If Chris wasn’t there, they’d hit a dead end.
Why hadn’t he protected her? He’d allowed her to be hauled off and turned over to a mad man. Letting her down had delivered a blow he didn’t know how to handle.
They stopped when the cabin came into view. He and Dalton drew their weapons. Marcus gave Dalton the signal to circle the house from the right side. As soon as the fed walked away, Marcus and Diablo moved closer.
Lights were on in the house, but all the blinds had been drawn, making a visual inspection impossible. Marcus kept moving, listening for any sound from inside.
Diablo tugged at the leash. Agitated, he lunged, almost pulling out of Marcus’s grasp. Chris was here! And Diablo sensed she was in trouble. Marcus dropped down on one knee and pulled the dog’s head around. Once he had his attention, he gave the hand signal for the animal to be quiet.
Dalton stepped around the corner. Marcus motioned for Dalton to follow. They silently walked around back. Marcus handed Diablo’s leash over to the fed.
Without a clean shot, Marcus had but one choice. He stepped up and kicked open the door. If he could get Charles to move away from her, Dalton would fire.
Marcus felt nothing but rage at the sight of Chris tied to a chair. Her brother held her by her hair, a knife at her throat. God in heaven, she appeared to be dead. Marcus’s heart hit the floor.
“Look, Sis. We have company,” the asshole said. “Marcus, I presume.”
“That’s right.” Marcus inched forward. “Doesn’t look like she can hear you.” Her chest moved, but he couldn’t celebrate yet. “Which means I have nothing left to lose.”
“You must have nine lives.”
“How do you figure?” Marcus asked, circling to stay out of the line of fire.
“You’re supposed to be dead. I thought it was you when I shot the cop. And my friend there”—he jerked his head in the direction a dead body—”was supposed to make sure you died tonight.” Charles’s eyes were darting every direction. He jerked Chris’s hair, smiling when she moaned. “Put your gun on the coffee table or I’ll slit her throat.”
The tip of the blade pressed against her skin, and a drop of blood slid down her neck. “You son of a bitch.” Fear and anger poured out of Marcus. He slowly walked to the coffee table. Dalton had to be poised to fire. Now to hold this crazy bastard’s attention. “I will kill you with my bare hands if you don’t move that blade away from her neck.”
Diablo burst into the room. A dark blur, emitting a low growl, the dog never slowed down. He left the floor and landed on Charles with a force that surprised even Marcus. It happened so fast, Charles Bridger had no time to react. He threw his arms up to try to cover his face as he stumbled under the dog’s weight and fell backward. The man’s scream as the dog’s teeth sank into his flesh was blood-curdling.
“No. Diablo. No.” Marcus lunged for him. Would he listen? Had he reverted? His teeth were embedded in Bridger’s right cheek and jaw. Marcus wrapped his arms around the dog. “It’s okay, boy. It’s okay.”
Relaxing, the dog released Charles. Dalton appeared and, without checking the damage to Charles, flipped him over and handcuffed him. “I took his leash off, but didn’t expect him to react like that.”
“Chris,” Marcus said, ignoring Dalton. “Diablo, down. Stay.”
Chris’s cry of pain when Marcus cut her bindings and her arms fell free sliced through him. Her pulse was weak but steady. But there was so much blood. Had he gotten to her too late? “Please say something.”
Her gaze met his. She grinned and put her hand out for Diablo. Blood-covered muzzle and all, he ignored Marcus’s command to stay and crawled on his belly to Chris.
“I love that dog.”
“That’s a damn good thing,” he said as flashing lights lit up the night and sirens filled the air with sound. “Because he and his owner love you.”
All the other problems they might face meant nothing. He and Diablo had been given a second shot at life. No chance in hell would they blow it.
Epilogue
Four weeks later
Marcus parked his new SUV as close to the Lost and Found office front door as possible. He killed the engine, hurried around the front of the vehicle, and then opened the door for Chris. Extending his hand, he asked, “You sure you’re up for this?”
“I’m fine. You have to stop treating me like I’ll shatter into a million pie
ces.” Chris took his hand, got out, and then lifted up on her toes for a kiss.
“Get over it.” Marcus accepted the kiss. Then he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers for a second. “Seeing you cut up and covered in blood almost did me in.”
“Most were superficial cuts.”
“The key word in that sentence being ‘most,’“ he grumbled to himself as he opened the back door and let Diablo get out. Truth was, Marcus was relieved and delighted that her brother hadn’t inflicted permanent damage. Not that he hadn’t tried.
“My range of motion is almost back to normal.” She rolled her shoulder and lifted her arm, cupping his cheek in her palm. “Physical therapy is getting rid of the stiffness.”
Marcus hadn’t watched her demonstration. Instead, he’d kept his eyes on hers, searching for any sign of pain.
“You’re not missing your friend’s welcome home party on my account. If it’s important enough to warrant Ty and Ana to fly in from Colombia, we can show up to support Jake.” She took his hand and tugged him toward the door to the Lost and Found office.
Marcus stiffened, refusing to budge. “I’m not convinced this get-together is a good idea. What if he’s not ready for a crowd? Kay may have missed the mark surprising Jake with a party. If it were me, I’d want to be left alone.”
“He’s not you.” Chris’s eyes warmed. “You have me now. Those days of you being left alone are over. I love you. Remember?”
“Yes, ma’am. I do.” Marcus grinned down at her. “Are you gonna show them your new ring?”
“No.” She held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers. “I’m going to wait and see who notices it first. Besides, today is about showing support for your friend.”
Marcus pulled her into his arms and breathed deeply. How had he gotten so lucky? He hadn’t done anything good enough to warrant having a woman like Chris love him. Somebody had been watching out for him. Had waited until he understood what love really meant before giving him a second chance.
“You’re stalling.”
The door opened, and Ty stepped into view. He headed straight toward Marcus and Chris, his long strides quickly covering the pavement beneath his feet. His clean-shaven head glistened in the bright sunlight. A smile slowly spread across his face.
“Down, Diablo,” Marcus said, and the dog dropped to his belly.
Damn, Marcus was glad to see the man. Marcus stepped forward and gathered Ty in for a bear hug. Ty turned his famous smile toward Chris.
“You must be Chris.”
“I am.” She hugged Ty as if they were old friends, while Marcus stood back and beamed with pride.
“You having trouble getting this loner to come inside?” Ty raised a jet-black eyebrow.
“Looks like it,” she said, holding her left hand out for Marcus to take. Sunlight reflected off the diamond in her ring. The sparkle caught in her eyes. “But he’s not a loner any longer.”
“No, I’m not,” Marcus confirmed. He slid his arm around her waist and tucked her under his arm.
Ty’s smile returned. “Then let’s get inside before Nate gets back from the airport with Jake.”
“Let’s.” She patted her thigh. “Come, Diablo.”
Stay tuned for No Greater Hell, book four in the Lost and Found, Inc. series
About the Author and Other Titles...
Author of The Green-Eyed Doll, The Last Execution, Someone To Watch Over Me, and Hell Or High Water, and Cold Day in Hell, books one and two in the Lost and Found, Inc. series, my husband and I live in Texas with our rescue dog, Buddy. I write alpha males and kick-ass women who weave their way through death and fear to emerge stronger because of, and on occasion in spite of, their love for each other.
Get up to date information on new releases. Sign up for my newsletter at http://www.JerrieAlexander.com and connect with me on Facebook and Twitter.
If you enjoyed this book, please help me spread the word. Facebook and tweet your approval. A review on Amazon and or GoodReads would be greatly appreciated. Send me an email if you post a review, I’d love to thank you personally.
Acknowledgements
I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the following people. Their support, advice, and enthusiasm were invaluable.
To my editor, Joyce Lamb, your guidance helped me polish this story until it shone. For that, you have my sincere appreciation.
To Jackie Pressley, who critiqued my words, poked and prodded me when the story stalled, and offered encouragement every step of the way. This past year has been particularly rough on my family. You stuck by me, and I appreciate yours support more than I can say!
To my advisor on all firearms and tactical matters, a real American hero who prefers to remain nameless, thanks for sharing your knowledge and for your service to our country. Any mistakes are my own!
To my husband, who has always said I could do anything I set my mind to, and our daughter, who believes in me one-hundred percent. Thank you for your unwavering love and support.
Last but not least, thanks to my readers. You are why I write. Your emails make my day! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I loved writing it.
Reviews
Praise for Cold Day in Hell
“The sexual tension and sizzling chemistry between Ty and Ana has the temperature rising even higher than the sweltering heat of the jungle, as they escape from the relentless pursuit of the cartel henchmen, who threaten their existence. ”Cold Day in Hell” is an entertaining story filled with action, suspense, and romance, which will keep the reader enthralled until the very end!”
- InD’tale Magazine
Praise for Hell or High Water
“This is only book one in Jerrie Alexander’s Lost and Found Inc series but I personally can’t wait to pick up book two, Cold Day in Hell. I can’t wait to see what happens to Tyrell. Overall, this book was a wonderful blend of suspense and romance. For those who like romance you will be satisfied and for those suspense lovers you won’t be able to put this book down either.”
- The Book Maven
Table of Contents
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
About the Author and Other Titles...
Acknowledgments
Reviews
No Chance in Hell Page 25
