by Sheila Kell
Now, he had to tell her an employee that she trusted had been stealing from her. Fuck if his heart didn’t ache for the pile of shit being thrown her way. Enough was enough.
CAITLYN RESTED ON her side, her head propped on a hand while she studied a relaxed and sleeping Matt. The night before, he’d been her knight in shining armor, saving her from Tate and whatever he’d planned. She shuddered at the thought. She’d been fooled by the man like everyone else had.
Matt had also been the perfect date for her benefit. He’d been polite and helped keep conversations on Helping Paws and its future. He’d even led some old-time donors that she’d hoped would donate again to one of the veterans and their dogs. A little show and tell went a long way for the evening. She knew begging for money wasn’t his forte, but no one would ever have known it. And, he’d left her side when she’d needed to work the room alone. Granted that had left her unprotected, but she couldn’t have predicted what Tate had planned when he asked to speak with her privately about his donation. He must’ve been able to tell she was tired of listening to what he planned to donate, and told her that he had the check ready but didn’t want to give it in front of the other donors.
What a fool she’d been.
For her, receiving a check in front of other donors would go a long way to people anteing up now versus committing and sometimes forgetting to mail the check. She knew all would not come through with their donations, but assuming the general amount of people who didn’t send their donation, they’d brought in enough money to take them through the year and well beyond. Joy filled her. It’d been the most successful night they’d ever had, and she planned to do something nice for Tonya to repay her for the brilliant idea and event.
The arm holding her head began to fall asleep, so she shifted. Wow, Matt had serious bedhead going on. His dark short hair stood up in all directions, except the edge of the left side where it lay flat against his head. Obviously he’d been turned toward her most of the night. Remembering the night, she smiled. He’d been so gentle the first time they’d made love. It had been obvious he was still hesitant with her, not wanting to invoke any painful memories. Little did he know, he’d come very close to erasing those memories by overwriting them with special ones of the two of them. To include a rough and hot tumble at about two in the morning when she’d woken him and insisted he take her hard from behind. He’d scoffed at first, but—her smile widened—she’d convinced him.
Wanting to make Matt breakfast, she was just able to contain the minx in her that wanted her to reach out and play with the smattering of dark hair on his chest and then follow it down to the V she knew existed low on his belly. They’d never get out of bed if she did that.
Quietly, she slid from between the covers and from her closet pulled out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She’d worry about a bra and panties later. Besides, Matt liked it when she went commando. It drove him insane with lust, and she liked him like that since it turned her into a lusty woman.
In the kitchen, she filled the counter top with the fixings for breakfast. She wanted to serve him eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, sausage, grits, and biscuits. Sure it was the same breakfast he’d been eating, down to the homemade biscuits. Maybe she should make pancakes? Not finding an open spot on the counter for the mix, she nixed it. There would be enough food already. This time, she’d even bring out the jellies and jams she’d made and not the store-bought ones. Until now, she’d been embarrassed. What if they had turned out terrible? After testing each one—strawberry, peach, and blackberry—she found them tasty enough to serve without worry, but she still saved them for special occasions. Today felt like one.
While the oven heated, Caitlyn mixed the biscuit dough and then cut it into acceptable-sized circles to bake. Cleaning her hands of the sticky dough, she found she’d been humming. She’d never thought she’d be this happy again in her life. It was all Matt. Today would not be their last day together. She’d find a way for them to have a life with each other. Even if she had to beg. She’d never expected to say that, but she knew she couldn’t live without him.
Leaning over the sink to watch the birds in the front yard on the bird feeder, she smiled when she felt the presence of someone else. Somehow she’d known that Matt wouldn’t sleep long enough for her to finish the breakfast to surprise him.
When he got close, she almost turned, but liked when he held her with her back to his front, so she remained still, anticipating his touch. An arm slipped across her belly, and she knew something was wrong before a hand covered her mouth. Her pulse rate soared with fear laced in it. She began to buck and fight against the tight hold. She’d been pulled back from any weapon she could’ve found on the counter. Why was this happening to her? Not again.
“Keep quiet.” Tate! Tate Hart was attacking her. Why? She couldn’t speak to ask the question out loud.
She couldn’t tell if he had a weapon. He did, however, have her arms pinned to her sides under his tight hold.
Her stomach roiled with a sense of dread that she could be a victim again. Being raped once in a lifetime is one time too many, so she kept up the wiggling and trying to kick back with her bare feet—the only weapon she had available to her. As frightened as she was, she wouldn’t be docile as a lamb to the slaughter. If she could get his hand free of her mouth, she could call out to Matt. Tate’s grip was too tight. On one attempt to break the hold, her foot landed squarely on his knee. He grunted and his hold around her waist loosened, and while she couldn’t wrench free, her arms were no longer plastered to her side. She clawed at the hand on her mouth, but it held tight.
THE incessant buzzing of his cell phone woke Matt from a heavy sleep. Before opening his eyes, he knew he was alone in bed. He felt the loss of her body heat. Last night he’d been able to explore the desire between him and Caitlyn to his heart’s content.
She’d recovered well enough after Hart—or whatever his name was—basically attacked her. While it’d only been a kiss he’d tried to press upon her, Matt knew he’d also just gotten started. He knew the asshole would’ve taken it further. The idiot was besotted with Caitlyn.
They’d ousted him as a fake millionaire, so that should embarrass him enough not to show his face ever again.
Matt took a long, languid stretch with muscles he and Caitlyn had worked hard. It was like old days, making every second count. He chuckled to himself. Plus, having enough condoms to meet their explosive need was a bonus.
He couldn’t wait to tell her that Devon was going to set him up here. Christ, he’d best ask instead of just assuming, but she couldn’t fake her feelings for him. They still loved each other.
The phone began buzzing again signaling a call and not the expected ping of a voice mail. His senses perked up. Someone was intent on getting his attention. Rolling over, he picked up the phone and pulled it to his ear while he wiped a hand down his face to wake himself up fully.
He didn’t even look at the caller ID. He just accepted the call and greeted whoever was on the other end with, “What?” It might’ve come out shorter than he’d meant, but he wouldn’t worry about that. If it were one of his brothers, they’d understand and then get their ass kicked for bothering him so damn early.
Without acknowledging his attitude, Devon pressed forward. “You’ve got a problem.”
At those words, Matt sat up and looked around. Where was she? He had to find Caitlyn. “What’s the problem?”
“Tate Hart.”
That fucker. He’d kill him if he got his hands on him again. “I thought you said he didn’t exist.”
“He doesn’t, but a James Tate Ripley does. J.T. Ripley. We knew his first name was James, but his middle name never came up in conversation.”
Oh, holy fuck. His heart rate spiked, and he stripped the covers off him and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to attach his prosthetic. Where had Caitlyn fucking gone?
“But he’d checked in with his probation officer. Fuck!” He wanted to slap himself for bein
g so stupid. “Hart only came up here on occasion. He could’ve checked in and still come back here.” If Devon’s news was true—and it always was—then Caitlyn needed to know who the man really was so she wouldn’t be fooled if he came sniffing back around begging for forgiveness.
“Since you were insistent something wasn’t right about him, I did more digging. At three o’clock in the morning, the thought of Ripley’s son hit me. Brad looked at his photo and confirms he saw him speaking with you and Caitlyn one day about her organization.”
Fuck. Fuck. And double fuck. “But he was here when we arrived from Mississippi. Luke hadn’t learned her location when I chased him away from Adam’s house.”
“Remember when you said how you felt like you’d suddenly been knocked senseless from behind?”
“Yeah. It was like—”
Devon finished his sentence since they’d all heard it enough times from Matt, then asked a question. “Someone else was there. What if his son found the information while his uncle tortured Adam and tried to move in to help his uncle grab her by pretending to be a donor and get close to her without anyone thinking anything was untoward? But, then you came into the picture.”
“Let me put you on speaker so I can get dressed. I don’t know where Caitlyn is and I have to find her.” He selected the speaker function and laid the phone on the bed beside him. He went to work getting the prosthetic bed-to-bath feature on. He could pull on the compression sock and such later. Right now, he needed to see Caitlyn to ensure she was all right.
While he collected himself, he spoke to Devon. “The asshole tried to molest her last night. I’m guessing that cruelty runs in the fucking family.”
Standing, Matt gathered his balance and ended the call with his brother. After reaching in the bedside drawer, he pulled out his Glock and went in search of the woman he loved, praying he wouldn’t need the weapon he gripped tightly.
Hearing scuffling in the kitchen, his heart skipped a beat, and he moved straight in that direction. Peeking around the corner, he witnessed J.T. Ripley working to retain a struggling Caitlyn. His blood boiled, but he leveled it with the calmness he needed in this situation. If Ripley would take his hand from her mouth, it’d be easier, but she’d also be able to call out.
Pointing his Glock at Ripley, Matt entered the room, but unfortunately, Caitlyn blocked any clean shot he could have. “Hey, Ripley. Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” It was a stupid cliché, but it seemed appropriate to this situation.
Caitlyn’s wide fear-filled eyes ate at Matt’s heart. He just wanted to gather her and whisk her to safety. She didn’t deserve to deal with this… again. Twice now he’d allowed this maniac near her without protection… like he had the father.
“Took you long enough to figure it out,” Ripley sneered. He dropped his hand from Caitlyn’s mouth and grabbed her by the neck, pulling her closer with her back to his front.
“Let her go,” Matt demanded, moving slowly around the room, hoping to get a better line of sight to Tate fucking Ripley. He bit back hard, wanting to punish the son for the father’s offenses to Caitlyn, but he knew he couldn’t. The asshole had his own offenses, which included putting his fucking hands on her.
How the hell was he going to extricate her safely? The HIS teams were gone, and Rick and Tonya had the day off. Not that they’d necessarily come to the house looking for them. Then an idea hit him. It was risky, but so was their current standoff. Ripley didn’t appear to have a weapon so he was willing to give it a try.
“Caitlyn, do you remember how to sing?” He knew it sounded like an odd question, but Caitlyn had told him after the rape, she’d taken self-defense courses, but feared she’d forget them when the time came. Except one. She’d watched Miss Congeniality many times, and he knew just jogging her memory would help her realize she could take the upper hand. Hell, he definitely couldn’t shoot, because Ripley used her as a shield and he couldn’t risk hitting her by mistake.
Of course, if Ripley’d had a weapon, he’d never ask her to do something so risky. He just needed some space to subdue the man before he could abscond with Caitlyn.
His question seemed to transform her from the frightened woman in an attacker’s arms to a confident woman who wouldn’t allow some jerk to abuse her.
With a slow nod of confidence to her, she focused while Matt kept his weapon ready if she failed. But he knew she could get away from him long enough for Matt to take control.
“Solar plexus,” she said and elbowed Ripley hard with her free arm.
Ripley grunted at the contact she made but didn’t release his grip.
“Instep,” she said as she stomped on his instep. Granted her bare feet weren’t bringing the full pain that step could’ve done, but Ripley grunted again and listed to the side where she’d begun her torture. She hobbled a bit, which showed she’d hit him hard enough to impact her own foot.
Keep it up, Caitlyn. He’s weakening.
“Nose.” Only hearing the word should’ve alerted Ripley that she was about to bring her fist up and connect with his nose.
Ripley dropped his hands off her to grab his bloody nose. Caitlyn didn’t have a lot of strength behind it, but it still was a touchy spot when hit.
She turned and raised her knee. “Groin.” Matt winced and almost grabbed his package at the ferocity of her attack to Ripley’s groin.
Opening his free arm, Matt grabbed her tight against him when she raced into it. His other held his weapon and remained steadily trained on Ripley. “Are you okay?” he asked her while holding her tightly.
“Yes. I did it,” she said excitedly. “I saved myself.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have thought of the SING method. I was too frightened.”
With Ripley on his knees, one hand holding his package and the other his bloody nose, Matt looked down at her and smiled. “I knew you could do it. Now, I need to subdue him before he can walk again. Do you have something we can tie him up with until the sheriff’s department can arrive?” Releasing Caitlyn, he closed in on Tate and issued an order. “Down on the ground.”
Tate looked like he was ready to bolt or fight—who knew with that lunatic—when he noticed Matt still pointed his weapon at him.
“Hands behind your back,” Matt instructed. As he accepted a long zip tie from Caitlyn, he raised an eyebrow.
“For the computer cables. I’ve heard they can be used to cuff someone also.”
He didn’t have the heart to tell her they were so thin, they might not work. But she was so damn proud of herself for helping. “They can, but those are too short for someone of this size. But, if you zip three together, I can use that since it’s only temporary.”
As Caitlyn worked, Ripley became belligerent. “That bitch can’t keep my dad in jail.”
“So, what? You were bringing her to your father?”
“No,” Ripley spat. “I was going to kidnap her so she wouldn’t testify at my dad’s next parole hearing. Without her, they’ll let him out. My uncle and I weren’t sure exactly what we were going to do to her after that. Maybe give her to my dad as a ‘Get out of jail’ present.”
Caitlyn covered her mouth over a gasp. Matt noticed the slight tremble in her body, and he wanted to engulf her in his arms and make her feel safe.
Matt couldn’t stop what spewed from this fucker’s mouth without knocking him senseless, which he might’ve done before he cuffed him, but not after.
With the flimsy zip ties secured, Matt opened his arms to Caitlyn and held her with all the strength he could muster. He probably held her too tight, but she didn’t complain. She just snuggled in closer.
Dropping his head beside her ear, he whispered, “We need to call the sheriff’s department.”
She released a heavy sigh. “Do we have to do it now? You feel so good.”
A smile split his face. “The sooner they’re here, the sooner he’s out of here and you can finish making me breakfast.”
If he hadn�
�t known better, he’d have thought she’d been ripped from his arms she moved so quickly to pick up a phone. He chuckled. That was the woman he loved with all his heart and soul.
“HOW ARE YOU feeling?” Matt asked Caitlyn as she walked into her living room. After dealing with the sheriff’s department and Caitlyn having a good cry, Matt had held her until she’d fallen asleep. Once the reality of what had happened hit her, it’d been too much for her to handle. It had evoked those memories he’d wanted to replace. There was still time for him to give her new ones that would hopefully wipe her horrors from her mind as much as possible.
His heart pounded hard in equal parts fear and relief. If Devon hadn’t woken him this morning, Ripley could’ve gotten away with kidnapping her. He worried once Ripley was free, he might try again. The man had been screwed up, probably from growing up with a screwed-up father. But he wouldn’t tell Caitlyn of his fear. He’d be here to protect her whether she agreed or not. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She’d agree. She’d just have to understand how his job could take him away sometimes. Until Ripley was put back in jail for violating parole, he wouldn’t leave her side, but after… he liked what he did for a living. If it hadn’t been for his brothers, he might not have been accepted with only one good leg. Most people assumed a disability as a weakness. Not his family. He’d sure miss seeing them almost daily.
“I’m fine,” Caitlyn said, breaking into his wayward thoughts.
“Come here.” He reached out from his position on the couch.
Without hesitation, she slipped onto his lap. “Is it finally over?” she asked into his shoulder.
Mindlessly rubbing her back, he thought for a moment and gave her his hope not reality. “Yes. Father and son are in jail and uncle isn’t a threat. You’re safe.” When the bastard was released, he’d learn he couldn’t mess with Caitlyn.
