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Songbird Freed

Page 30

by Lisa Edward


  Soft kisses were replaced by hard sucking as he latched onto my inner thigh, his hands repositioning so I was sitting on his palms. Then his face was buried between my thighs, nuzzling in as the water continued raining down on us.

  Cole’s mouth on me felt amazing as I dropped my head back against the wall and closed my eyes for a moment. As his tongue flicked and licked my swollen flesh, he pulled me closer to him, devouring me. It was as if he couldn’t get enough, and it was such a turn-on to watch him enjoy pleasuring me so much.

  His face lifted, his eyes meeting mine. My breathing was out of control as shallow breaths escaped my parted lips. His eyes sparkled, and he continued holding my gaze as his tongue deliberately, purposefully licked my entire core. I moaned and he did it again, watching my reaction.

  I wanted him inside me. Lifting his chin with my hand, I guided him back up until my legs were once again wrapped around his hips. He steadied himself, then slowly drove into me, pushing me back against the tiles. That was what I wanted. His hands kneaded my ass as the rhythm picked up, every thrust forcing a grunt of air from Cole’s parted lips.

  He buried his face in my neck, kissing and grazing his teeth over my shoulder. The cold hard tiles banged against my back, somehow heightening the pleasure. My arms were wrapped around his shoulders and I fisted his hair, pulling his head back so he was looking at me again. A sexy grin tilted his lips before I claimed them with mine, kissing him as hard as he was pounding into me.

  I was so close. Leaning my head back against the tiles, I watched Cole’s face as it contorted, every thrust driving me a little bit nearer to release.

  A deep, throaty growl rumbled through him. It was so primal, his eyes so black as they scanned my face that it made my heart race even faster. I clenched around him. The veins in his arms stood out as his body tensed and he grunted out my name.

  “Ah … fuck, Tara …” He kept going, trying to hold on that little bit longer.

  With one final thrust, my body tensed as every part of me felt the pulse of pure bliss course through me. My hands cupped his cheeks, our foreheads resting together as I tried to catch my breath.

  “Oh my God,” I gasped. “You’re amazing.”

  “I love you,” he said breathily. “I want to do that every day.”

  “For the rest of your life?”

  He nodded. “And twice on Sundays.” He gave me a cheeky wink. “And today’s Sunday.”

  IN ALL the drama over the last few weeks, I hadn’t had time for any necessary tasks like grocery shopping, so we were running low on just about everything. I did a quick inventory then left Tori and Cole at home to finish getting ready, while I raced to the grocery store to buy some nibbles and a few essentials before the guests started arriving.

  With arms loaded with shopping bags and our shower dalliance replaying in my mind, I didn’t notice the old van parked way too close to my car until it was too late. As I tried to open my door to throw my handbag on the front seat, the van door slid open. My shopping bags went crashing to the ground and I was dragged from behind into darkness, a hessian bag pulled over my head.

  I screamed. I screamed so loud I thought the whole world would hear me, but no one came. As I struggled against the stranger restraining me, I felt a zip-tie slip over my hands and lock tight around my wrists. My legs went into action, kicking blindly in the darkness as I continued screeching for help.

  The van started and I was thrown around the back as we took off at high speed. We drove for what felt like fifteen minutes as I tried to get my bearings while being flung around, concentrating on every left and right turn, every bump and train track we drove over. When we finally stopped, I was ready. As soon as the door opened I would kick as hard as I could at whoever was unfortunate enough to be within reach.

  The door slid open and I kicked with all my might. There was only fresh air. An arm grabbed me from behind, choking me as they dragged me out of the van, down onto the asphalt and up a flight of stairs, tearing skin from my thighs and knees. I heard what sounded like a garage door slide open and closed, then blinding light as the bag was ripped from my head.

  “How lovely to see you again, Tara,” the smarmy voice said.

  Patrick.

  Blind panic gripped me as I vividly remembered the night Patrick had attacked me in the car park at Songbirds. I knew what he was capable of back then, and he looked even more unhinged now. He’d knocked me unconscious, breaking my wrist and leaving me black and blue, and was just about to rape me when Cole had found us.

  “What do you want?” I tried to sound calm, but I could hear the trembling in my voice. I pushed myself away from him, dragging myself along the rough concrete floor towards the corner.

  He crouched down in front of me, his foul breath a mixture of alcohol and cigarette smoke, making me gag.

  I turned my face away from his, but he grabbed my jaw in his hand, jerking my head back around. “What I want is two million dollars so I can get out of this shithole, and for my baby brother to deliver it. I know he’s in town.”

  “I don’t know where he is,” I mumbled, trying to speak as he squeezed my cheeks in his hand.

  “Well, one of your friends must know how to get in touch with him. I’ve been waiting long enough for him to come back here. He’s not leaving again without me seeing him.”

  “He won’t come. We’re not together anymore,” I said, clutching at straws.

  “He’d go anywhere, do anything for you.” He reached into his back pocket and produced a cell phone. “Call him and tell him you’re with me.” He sneered. “He’ll come.”

  Jerking my face out of his grasp, I tried to get my head around what was happening.

  “I don’t have a phone number for him, and I don’t have two million dollars tucked in my sock drawer, Patrick. It’s Sunday; the banks aren’t open.” I was trying to reason with someone who was beyond reasoning with, but I had to try to make him see sense.

  He started pacing, a manic fast-paced stride that convinced me he really was crazy. I could hear him mumbling, talking out loud, but there was no one else here. Finally, he reached in the front of his filthy jeans and pulled out a handgun.

  “You will call him and you will get me the money.” He waved the gun around madly, but his deranged eyes were fixed on me. “Your boyfriend has money; so do you. I read about it in the newspaper.” He stormed over, pointing the gun at my head. “My brother will be here to watch when the light goes out in your eyes, and he’ll know that I’ve taken away the only girl he’s ever loved.”

  I felt like I’d been punched in the throat as I realised what he’d just said. He was going to kill me, and he wanted Riley here to witness it.

  “Why do you hate him so much? Is this about Rebecca?” I asked, tears streaming down my face.

  “Don’t you say her name,” he screeched in my face. “He never loved her, but I did. Even after she left me for him, I loved her, but he didn’t care.”

  Oh God, he truly had lost his mind. He was blaming Riley for Rebecca leaving him, even though she’d left Patrick because he’d abused and beaten her.

  “He’ll know what it’s like to lose everything, and he’ll know it was me who took it away.”

  “I … I can get you the money,” I stammered. “But I need to call Cole, not Riley.”

  Patrick threw me the phone. I awkwardly dialled, my hands still tied together, and prayed that Cole would answer.

  “It’s me,” I said, my voice shaky. “You need to listen really carefully. Patrick jumped me in the car park—”

  “What the fuck?” Cole blurted out.

  “Just listen, please.” I took a deep breath, trying to gather my jumbled thoughts. “He wants two million dollars, and he wants Riley to deliver it. Cole, you have to work with Riley.”

  “Are you okay? Has he … hurt you?” I could hear the distress in Cole’s voice, and I knew what he meant by “hurt”.

  “So far he hasn’t touched me, but …”

&nb
sp; Patrick yanked the phone from my hand. “Two million dollars in the next two hours,” he instructed. “Riley has to deliver it to the old warehouse down by the docks. The one painted blue on the left as you drive in. Any police, if I see anyone other than that little turd, she’s dead.”

  But I was dead either way—it was just a matter of whether Riley was going to be here to watch. My only hope was to distract Patrick and somehow escape.

  I hunkered back into the corner as much as I could. We had two hours to kill and I didn’t want him filling in his time with me. He paced, he mumbled incoherently, and I tried to disappear into the wall and not draw any attention to myself as I tried to figure out what to do.

  Tori’s angelic little face came to my mind, and tears stung my eyes. I had to get out of here or I would never see her again. Wiping my eyes, I tried to calm myself. I needed to find some way out of here, then sneak out without Patrick seeing me. At least I knew I was at the docks. Maybe if I could get out of the warehouse there would be security guards patrolling who could help me.

  “I need to use the bathroom,” I called to him.

  He continued his one-person conversation without acknowledging me.

  “Patrick. I need the bathroom.”

  “Sure,” he leered. “I’ll help you.”

  Shit!

  “Is there a bathroom I can use … please?”

  He shook his head. “Do you think I’m stupid?” The hand holding the gun was waving around again. “If you need to go you can do it there, where I can see you.”

  I diverted my eyes. “It’s fine, I’ll hold on.”

  He laughed. “You won’t have to hold on for long.”

  The tone of his voice sent chills up my spine. No, I wouldn’t have to hold on for long, because in another hour I’d be dead.

  It was the longest two hours of my life, and yet it seemed to fly by as my last few moments on earth approached.

  There was movement outside, and I wondered if it were Riley. I wanted to yell out to him, to tell him where we were and that he was going to kill me anyway.

  Patrick must have heard him too. He stormed over, grabbed my arm and dragged me to the centre of a cleared area.

  “On your knees,” he commanded.

  Struggling to make my limbs obey, I tucked my legs under me, and waited.

  The door slid open, and Riley was standing there in full uniform. His eyes scanned the area, settled on me for a moment, then on Patrick. In those twenty seconds I knew he had summed up the situation; it was what he was trained to do. He stepped into the warehouse, his eyes locked on Patrick, his hands balled into fists beside him.

  “Are you going to battle, little brother?” Patrick jeered. “All dressed up in your pretty uniform.”

  “I’m on duty,” Riley responded calmly. “You remember being on duty, don’t you, Pat? Back in the days when you had some honour. Before you deserted and started taking innocent girls hostage.” His eyes flicked down to me for a split second. “Because this is a hostage situation, isn’t it, Pat?”

  “Well, I’m the one with the gun aren’t I?”

  I heard a click and I whimpered, realising he’d released the safety.

  “I’ve got your little bitch on her knees, where she belongs.”

  I closed my eyes, knowing that at any minute he could snap and pull the trigger.

  “Are you hurt, Tara?” Riley asked, making me open my eyes.

  “No,” I blubbered, shaking my head vigorously. “But I don’t want to die.” A sob escaped me, and I cursed myself for letting it out. I wanted to be strong and be all badass, to tell Patrick to go to hell, but it wasn’t happening. I was petrified.

  “You’re not going to die,” Riley told me, his eyes taking me in, his words trying to be reassuring.

  But they weren’t reassuring, because this was what Patrick wanted. He wanted Riley to be here and now he was.

  “I’m afraid you’re wrong,” I whispered. “You’ve given him what he wanted.”

  Riley’s face dropped, a subtle nod to me, indicating he understood what I meant.

  “You don’t want to go down this path, Pat,” Riley said, stepping around him so Patrick had to turn away from me to follow Riley’s movements. “It won’t end well for you.”

  Patrick pointed the gun at Riley. “No, it won’t end well for you, little brother. Did you think we were all just going to walk out of here?”

  The gun was back at my head. I pulled away and Patrick looked down at me, giving Riley enough time to pull his gun.

  “No, I don’t think we’re all going to walk out of here. Put your gun down, Pat.” Riley sounded so calm, and I envied him and his composure. I was a blubbering mess.

  Patrick laughed. “What are you going to do? Shoot me?” He pulled me to my feet, using me as a shield. “You’ve never had the guts to stand up to me, you little shit.” One arm was wrapped around my throat, nearly choking me as his other hand, the one with the gun, started waving around again. “If I hit your little bitch, will you cry, like you used to sit there crying with Mum when Dad put her in her place?”

  I gasped, unable to believe what he was saying. I knew he wanted to taunt Riley, but I also knew how precious their mother was to Riley. His jaw clenched at the mention of her and their father. His hand adjusted on the gun that was still pointing at Patrick.

  “Well, come on then,” Patrick screamed. “Let’s see those tears.” He stepped out from behind me, daring Riley to do something. “Down on your knees, little brother, and beg for her life.”

  If he wanted to see tears, all he needed to do was look at me. I felt like I was in the middle of a nightmare. Wiping my eyes, I saw Riley watching me. He faltered for a moment, then lowered his gun.

  “No,” I told him, shaking my head. “Don’t back down.”

  He met my eyes, and I saw determination in them. He wasn’t giving in, he was lulling Patrick into a false sense of security. He slowly nodded to me, then for a split second, dropped his eyes to the ground. I knew what I needed to do.

  Patrick’s grip on me had loosened as his focus shifted entirely to Riley.

  “I’m going to count to three, little brother, and you’d better be on your knees. One …”

  Riley’s weight shifted.

  “Two …”

  Riley’s legs bent as he started to kneel.

  “Three.”

  I pulled away from Patrick as much as possible as an ear-splitting bang rang through my head. I fell backwards, hitting the hard ground awkwardly with my hip. Rolling to my side, I saw Patrick’s lifeless body, a trickle of blood running down his forehead. Riley was beside me, lifting me from the ground and away from Patrick, and cutting the tie on my wrists with a knife.

  He then held me at arm’s length, searching my face. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

  Shaking my head, I pulled Riley close. “You shot your brother,” I mumbled into his chest.

  Riley stroked my hair. “Should have done it years ago. Would have saved everyone a load of misery.”

  “But will you get into trouble?” I asked, concerned for his well-being. The last thing I wanted was for Riley to go to jail.

  “No. I’m a trained hostage negotiator. Sometimes the negotiations don’t go well … for some.” He kicked Patrick’s gun away from his lifeless hand. “This was a military issue. There’ll be an inquest to ensure I followed protocol.”

  He raised my face from his chest, a familiar half-smile gracing his lips. “We need to go out, but before we do, I just wanted to ask you something.”

  “Okay,” I said, smiling. “You just saved my life, so whatever you want, it’s yours.”

  He licked his lips. “Don’t tempt me, Tara.”

  We suddenly felt very close as the heat burned between us.

  “Kelli told me that for a couple of weeks you thought I was Tori’s dad.”

  Kelli and her big mouth.

  I nodded. “Yes, I did. Cole’s mum falsified the results.”
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  He bit his top lip, his brow furrowed. “Were you going to tell me? Were you going to give me the chance to be her dad, to get to know her?” His eyes were begging me for answers. “I mean, I love you, Tara. I would have come home. I would have tried to make things work between us if that was what you wanted.”

  “Of course I was going to tell you.” I blinked away the tears that were stinging my eyes. “I sat down so many times to write to you, Riley.” I sighed. “I wanted to tell you, but I was trying to deal with breaking up with Cole, and telling you just would have made it real. I wasn’t ready for that.” I smiled apologetically. “Have you seen her? She’s the most beautiful little thing.”

  He smiled, tears in his eyes. “I met her when Cole came over to Kelli’s to tell me what had happened with Patrick. She looks like you. Of course she’s beautiful.”

  Riley walked me out with his arm around my shoulders. As soon as we rounded the corner and came into view of the police and military police, he tensed for a second, then went to pull his arm away. I grabbed his hand as it slid across my shoulder, holding it firmly around me.

  “You just saved my life. You’re allowed to comfort me,” I told him, squeezing his hand.

  “How will your fiancé feel about that?” he asked with a half-smile.

  I followed Riley’s line of vision. Cole was standing there, hands laced on his head, his face distraught. As soon as he saw me, his body slumped as he took a deep “thank God” breath. He took two steps forward and stopped, his eyes darting to Riley then back to me, taking it all in.

  “Go,” Riley said, pulling his arm away.

  “Come over, too,” I said as my pace picked up until I was running towards Cole.

  The last few feet I covered in mid-air, leaping into his arms as they wrapped securely around me.

  “I heard the gunshot,” he croaked into my neck, holding me tight. “Oh fuck, I’ve never been so scared.”

  My feet were still dangling above the ground, and Cole’s grip wasn’t loosening.

  “I’m okay, babe,” I whispered. “Riley shot Patrick. He had a gun to my head.” I choked back a sob as the realisation sunk in. “He was going to shoot me.”

 

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