In Seconds b-2

by Brenda Novak

  Ink tried to ignore him, but snapped, “Chill out,” when L.J. tugged on his sleeve.

  “There’re toys in the yard, man.” Now they were getting to the real reason behind his reluctance. “That’s obviously a mom.”

  “So? We knew it was a family when we saw that wooden plaque over the doorway.” The Rogers Family. What had L.J. thought when he saw that? Or had he thought at all?

  “Kids live here. I don’t want to do no kids, man. You know what happens to guys who do kids once they hit prison. We’ll be in the hat for sure.”

  Ink wasn’t going back to prison. He’d put a bullet in his own brain first. So what did he care about any kids? They were nothing to him. Less than nothing. It was the parents he was thinking about. Adults could be so unpredictable, especially when they were trying to protect their children. “I just want to be sure her husband’s not home. Our only other choice is to take on a bunch of hunters, and I promise this middle-aged bitch will be easier. You don’t want to get shot, do you?”

  “No, but I don’t want to get caught, either.” L.J.’s scowl darkened as he stared across the clearing. “If this woman has a husband, we’re going to have to kill him, too. We’ll have to do it now if he’s home. Later if he’s not. And if either one of ’em goes missing, someone’s bound to come looking. That’ll lead the sheriff right to us. And that’s not smart, not if we plan on sticking around for a while.”

  They were sticking around, all right. Ink wasn’t going anywhere until he found Laurel Hodges or whatever she called herself these days. But he hated to pass up an opportunity for immediate gratification. “This woman’s home alone.” He couldn’t get beyond that.

  “For now!”

  L.J. had a point. Part or all of a local family would be missed far sooner than a group of hunters who were visiting from out of state and weren’t expected home for a week or two. And hunters would be just as likely to have a vehicle and groceries. If they didn’t have enough food, a little shoplifting could fill in the gaps. Ink had already stolen a couple hundred bucks’ worth of snacks from the gas stations they’d visited since they escaped the California Men’s Colony, not to mention all that fishing and camping stuff. They’d even held up a liquor store in New Mexico and walked away with two hundred and eighty-four dollars in cash.

  “What about that last cabin we came across?” Ink asked.

  “What are you talking about?” L.J. was no longer following the conversation. A girl had come out onto the deck, proving that the woman inside wasn’t as alone as they’d thought. Her daughter was home, too. And what a daughter she was. With long dark hair, porn-star boobs and a tiny waist, she was curvy and cute, and she was wearing a skimpy bikini while talking on a cordless phone.

  Just seeing her up close, within reach, made Ink crave much more than food. He was so sex-starved he could smell her from behind the screen of trees, and he could tell L.J. was equally affected. He was standing there like a statue, no longer trying to drag Ink away.

  “Maybe I spoke too soon,” L.J. murmured. “I vote we get a piece of that before we do anything else.”

  Ink wanted her, too. He’d never seen tits that could compare to those. His injury meant he couldn’t get an erection anymore, but that hadn’t diminished his desire. He’d find some way to satisfy the craving, even if it was only by watching L.J. ride her. The sight of her made him feel young and strong again, more like himself than he’d felt in a long, long time.

  But he had to think this through, figure it out. Could they drag her into the woods without her mother hearing? And if they succeeded, then what?

  “I don’t know…” he said.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” L.J.’s voice was tight with desire. “We could take turns. Maybe keep her for a while.”

  “And then what?”

  “Let her go when we get outta here.”

  “No. We can’t. You’re not thinking straight.”

  L.J. whirled on him. “What? You gotta throw me a bone. I helped you bust out. You wouldn’t be here without me.”

  Ink didn’t like acknowledging that, so he didn’t. “But if we rape her, we’ll have to kill her. Otherwise, she’ll be able to testify against us.”

  “Maybe not. Maybe—”

  “No maybes. Leaving her alive would be stupid. And, like you said, these people are people who’ll be missed. If she disappears, the sheriff will come knocking on every door up here. Hell, the whole damn community will start combing the area.”

  L.J. didn’t respond. His attention had swung back to the girl with the razorlike focus of a mountain lion who’d spotted his first meal after a long famine. A moment before, he’d been so reluctant to harm this family. But the sight of Betty Big Boobs had thrown some sort of switch in his brain, given him fresh incentive to take what he wanted, and nothing else seemed to matter anymore. Not even the kids. That concerned Ink. If L.J. raped this girl, there’d be consequences. They’d have no choice but to run. And he hadn’t found Laurel.

  Ink nudged him. “You listening to me?”

  “We don’t have to kill her if we cover her head.” He groaned as she bent over to arrange a towel on the chaise. “Her other end is all I care about. Look at that tight, sweet ass.”

  There was too much testosterone flooding through him. Ink sensed that he was losing control of his companion. “You think she’s just going to spread her legs and let you have your fun? That she won’t report what happened? Rape will bring the sheriff out here as fast as murder. We gotta let her be.”

  “It won’t be rape. She wants it. I can tell. Look at the way she’s teasing us. I bet she knows we’re here. And it won’t take long. It’ll work out, you’ll see.”

  This was crazy. Pulling the gun from his waistband, Ink pressed the tip of the barrel to the younger man’s head. “You’d better talk yourself down, little brother.”

  “What the hell?” L.J. jerked away.

  At his raised voice, the girl looked up, but if she’d heard him she was too engrossed in her telephone conversation to investigate. If Ink had his guess, she’d never had to fear anything in her life, didn’t know she had reason to be scared now.

  “I said we’re going to leave her alone!” Ink whispered.

  A sulky expression claimed L.J.’s face. “And do what instead?”

  “Head back to the last cabin we passed.”

  “But we counted the bags in that place! There are three or four guys staying there.”

  “Yeah, well, with any luck, some of ’em won’t be guys, right?”

  L.J.’s hand covered his heart, as if what he felt was more than lust. “If there’s a woman in the bunch, there’s no way she’s going to look like that!”

  “Sometimes you have to take what you can get.”

  “When you’re old and lame, maybe,” he muttered, and Ink nearly hit him with the gun. He would have, if he didn’t have to worry about noise.

  “I’m going to forget you said that. For now.”

  The threat in those last two words finally seemed to give him some leverage. “Oh, come on,” L.J. said. “It was a joke. You can take a joke, can’t you? I’m not going to take any risks.”

  “You better not.”

  “I won’t! But I don’t know if breaking into that other cabin is any smarter. It’s bad odds. Two against four. Or worse.”

  “We’ll have the element of surprise on our side. No one gets back after a long day of hunting expecting an ambush.”

  13

  A motorcycle sat parked against the side of Vivian’s house. Myles spotted it as soon as he started over with Jake and Mia. While the kids ran in to talk to their mother, he stood outside wondering where the hell that bike had come from. It’d obviously seen a lot of miles. And it was far too big for a woman…?.

  Before long, Jake appeared at the door to the little antechamber that led to Vivian’s kitchen. “Hey, you coming?”

  “Looks like you have company.” Myles motioned to the bike.

 
He grinned. “My uncle Rex. You gotta meet him.”

  Myles had heard about an uncle Virgil. Just this morning. Now there was an uncle Rex? Vivian had more family than he’d thought. Yet she’d gone two years without an out-of-town visitor. Why hadn’t either of these brothers come to see her?

  “Sheriff King?” Jake prodded when he didn’t move.

  Despite his curiosity regarding Vivian’s family and her past, Myles felt oddly reluctant to go inside. But he climbed the stairs and followed her son into the kitchen, and there he saw a wiry man about his own height and age sporting a little too much razor stubble to be making a fashion statement. Dressed in a torn T-shirt with the sleeves cut out, some holey jeans and unlaced boots, he was leaning up against the counter and laughing with Mia, who was hugging his leg. When he saw Myles, his eyes narrowed. And that was when Myles knew—this was no family relation.

  Vivian had said she’d only slept with two men in her life—her ex-husband and a steady boyfriend. This wasn’t the ex; that was plain. Myles didn’t want to believe it was the boyfriend, either. Not after last night. But the way Vivian refused to meet his eyes suggested otherwise.

  Trying to squelch the jealousy that sprang up, Myles forced a congenial smile as Jake ushered him across the room.

  “Uncle Rex, this is Sheriff King.”

  Determined to be polite, Myles extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Rex glanced at Vivian before responding with a halfhearted shake. “Same here.”

  “The sheriff helped me gut my fish,” Jake announced as if Myles had just done something incredible.

  Rex considered Vivian’s son. “The law helps with that sort of thing these days, does it?”

  “The law?” Mia wrinkled her nose in confusion.

  Jake tried to explain that a sheriff was “the law.” He caught on to a lot more than most nine-year-olds. But no one else bothered to clarify. From what Myles could see, Vivian was too uncomfortable having him and Rex in the same room to allow herself to be distracted—another indication that Uncle Rex held special, and most likely romantic, significance in her life.

  “Least I could do, for a neighbor,” Myles replied with a shrug.

  Rex poured himself some coffee. “Nice of you to take the time. Especially since I hear you’re in the middle of a big murder case.”

  The underlying accusation—that he should be at work—caused Myles to bristle. Vivian reacted, too, by attempting to defend him.

  “He has his investigators on it,” she said, but Myles kept his focus on Rex.

  “You know what they say. You want something done, give it to a busy person.”

  “They say that, do they?” Rex blew off some of the steam rising from his coffee before risking a sip.

  Myles let his gaze range over the other man, all the way down to his untied boots. He didn’t care who this guy was. He wasn’t intimidated by him and he wanted “Uncle Rex” to know it. “Maybe only among the working segment of the population.”

  Rex surprised him with an outright laugh. “That so? Guess I know how I missed it, then.”

  “What do you do?” Myles asked.

  Lifting his cup in a taunting salute, he sobered but a faint smile remained. “Whatever I want, Sheriff.”

  “I figure whatever you’ve been doing must’ve been important. Otherwise, I’m sure you would’ve shown up long before now, given the fact that Vivian could use a hand around here.”

  That mocking smile finally disappeared. “You know, I’m not particularly fond of anyone who wears a uniform. You might’ve noticed.”

  “Oh, yes, I’ve noticed. And I’m guessing it comes from past experience.” He turned to go, but Jake grabbed his hand.

  “Wait! You’re leaving?”

  “I’ve got to get to work, buddy.”

  “But you’re coming to dinner tonight? So we can cook the fish? You said you would.”

  One glance at the stone-faced Rex and embarrassed Vivian, and Myles decided he should’ve listened to his better judgment yesterday. Whatever he’d felt when he was with Vivian last night…he must’ve been confused or looking for an escape from the tedium that’d become his life. Vivian was beautiful; there was no question about that. And there was something about her that stirred him on a very deep level. But he wasn’t about to get involved in some kind of love triangle. If Vivian wanted this guy, who was obviously not a productive member of society, she could have him.

  “Actually, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I’ve got a busy day ahead of me and I’ll probably have to work late.” He mussed Jake’s hair, hoping a bit of affection would soften any disappointment. “But I’m sure Uncle Rex will be happy to help out.”

  It was small consolation that Jake didn’t seem enthusiastic about the substitution. “I don’t think he cooks,” he said with a frown. “He doesn’t even eat much.”

  Myles wanted to say that drug addicts rarely do but bit his tongue.

  “Anyone can fry a fish,” Rex muttered, and Myles accepted that as the end of it.

  Without acknowledging Vivian, he offered Jake and Mia a quick goodbye and left. Then he sat in his car for several seconds before starting it, wondering why he felt sick.

  Vivian cradled her head in her hands. “That went well,” she groaned.

  Rex continued to nurse his coffee. “What is he to you?”

  Jake dragged his precious cooler to the fridge. “I told you, he’s our neighbor.”

  “Friendly guy.”

  Vivian couldn’t resist the urge to defend Myles. “You started it.”

  “So? I didn’t like the look of him.” Rex watched her with heavy-lidded eyes. He was sexy—she had to give him that, even when she was angry with him. The pretty face that’d earned him his nickname was so appealing, so arresting. It didn’t matter that he was haggard and spent after doing God knows what to himself for the past few weeks, months, years. He was as much a danger to her peace and well-being as The Crew. She couldn’t love someone who was so broken. She was too broken herself.

  “It was the look of him that made you so unfriendly?”

  “Maybe it was the way he looked at you.”

  Distracted from his catch, Jake’s attention shifted between them as if he was watching a Ping-Pong match. No doubt he could feel the undercurrent, and Vivian didn’t want that. She lifted one hand. “Let’s just…let it go.”

  Rex opened his mouth to argue, seemed to realize he had no right, and finished his coffee instead. But she could tell he understood that Myles was a bit more than the average neighbor. And he wasn’t happy about it. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the situation, either. Especially because, when she was with Rex, the comfort of the familiar engulfed her, made her want to slide down the mountain she’d climbed, right into his open arms.

  Hoping to dispel the sudden gloom that hung over her, Vivian stood and tried to infuse her voice with some enthusiasm. “Who wants pancakes for breakfast?”

  “The sheriff already made us pancakes.” Jake moved his fish into the fridge before taking his cooler outside to empty out the water and ice.

  During his absence, Mia twirled around in the middle of the floor. “He made my pancake look like Mickey Mouse.”

  “He’s a regular father figure,” Rex drawled.

  The phone rang, giving Vivian an excuse not to respond. But once she picked up, she wasn’t sure this conversation was going to be any easier than the confrontation she’d avoided. It was Virgil. And he started by saying he had bad news.

  “What kind of bad news?” she asked.

  Hearing this, Rex came forward. She could feel him, standing directly behind her.

  “Ink broke out of prison a week ago.”

  Vivian felt as if the floor had just dropped out from under her. Ink was the man she feared more than any other; it was his face that appeared in her nightmares and woke her in a cold sweat. “Out of Corcoran? How?”

  “Out of the California Men’s Colony. The details are sketchy but I was
told they cut through the fence around the yard.”

  She blinked, battling a sudden welling of tears. “I’ve never heard of the California Men’s Colony.”

  “It only goes up to level three. It’s known as the country-club prison because of all the programs they’ve got down there.”

  Lowering her voice, she turned away from the children and right into Rex’s chest. She thought he might put his arms around her, but he didn’t. “Ink’s a murderer! Why would they move him to a cushy place like that?”

  “Because of his handicap. He wasn’t deemed a threat. He can’t get around like he used to. He came across as withdrawn, penitent, always in pain. And he didn’t seem to be active in The Crew anymore. Word has it he’s become a bit disenchanted with the brothers.”

  “That could be good news, couldn’t it?” she asked. “If he’s disenchanted, why would he carry out their business?”

  “I’m not sure he considers us ‘their’ business. For him, it’s personal. He hates all three of us. Rex most of all, but he’ll take the easy prey first, if he can.”

  She closed her eyes. Since Rex hadn’t returned to the society of his former friends, she’d decided she was fine. That she had no reason to fear. She’d wanted to believe it so badly. And now this. What did it mean? Was Ink using his time out of prison to enjoy all the things he’d missed?

  Or was he coming after her?

  Suddenly Horse’s words, as shared by Rex, took on a whole new meaning. Something was up inside the gang. What was it, exactly?

  “How’d you find out about Ink?” she asked her brother.

  “I called Jones.”

  Jones was their handler, the U.S. marshal who’d helped protect them until they could get moved to Washington, D.C.

  “And?”

  “They would’ve notified us if they could. They didn’t know how to find us.”

  “By design. But…wouldn’t a prison break have been on the news?”

  “It’s not big enough to make the national news. From what the marshal told me, they still don’t consider Ink much of a threat.”

  Then they didn’t know him the way she did.