by Rachel Lee
He carried her out to the truck and deposited her in the already-warming cab. He went back to lock the front door, then climbed in beside her.
His vehicle was an older Suburban, heavy and powerful, but it still resisted a bit when it bit into the deep, heavy snow. He kept it in low gear and managed the manual transmission like a pro as he steadily moved forward and back, clearing away the snow with the plow blade attached to the front.
“She gets cranky about this,” he remarked. “But then, she’s not a snow plow.”
“How long is your drive?”
“About eight-tenths of a mile. You’ll know when we get to the end because there’ll be a wall left by the plow that went through during the night.”
“The plow already came?” Her heart lurched a bit as she realized the roads were now open. Kevin, if he knew where she was, could come at any time.
“I heard it about four this morning. It’ll probably be back later, too, and I’ll have to bust out again.”
“Do you have to do this often?”
“Depends. We’ve been getting more snow than usual the last couple of years. There’ve been winters, though, when I haven’t had to do this but two or three times.”
It took nearly a half hour, but they finally cleared the right side of the driveway and reached the wall he’d promised. Clint put the car in Park and muttered.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I just need to loosen that mess a bit. Stay put.”
So she waited while he climbed out, opened the back of the truck and pulled out a heavy-duty shovel. She hated sitting there, doing nothing as he started chopping at the huge snowbank the plow had pushed across the end of his driveway. It looked hard. It was nearly as high as he was tall, and she could only imagine the effort he was expending trying to loosen it.
But finally he seemed satisfied the truck could do the job. When he climbed back into the cab with her, he was sweating from the heavy labor.
“Here we go,” he said. He backed up about twenty feet, then floored the accelerator. “Hang on.”
She braced in time. The Suburban hit the wall of snow hard, jerking her a bit against her seat belt, but she managed to stifle a cry as her bruises shrieked. A moment later they burst through, and he pushed the snow all the way to the far side of the road, slamming it into the snowbank over there.
He looked at her as he backed up again into his own driveway. “Once more,” he said. “Can you handle it?”
She nodded, this time bracing even harder. “This could be fun, under other circumstances.”
A laugh escaped him. “Yeah, if you weren’t already so sore.”
Once again he broke through what was left of the snow pile and drove the snow across the road. Then he performed a three-point turn and headed back up the driveway, this time clearing the other side.
“Are you okay?” he asked, when they finally pulled up in front of the house.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” Except that tensing again and again had once again made her aware of every bruised muscle in her body. The pain would pass, though, and she didn’t want to tell him.
But Clint was a perceptive man. Little escaped him. When he came around to lift her out and take her inside, he scanned her face. “What hurts?”
“Just some of the bruises.”
“Not your ribs?”
“I can’t even feel those anymore.”
A little smile danced in his eyes. “Next time stay in the house.”
“I don’t think so.”
The smile in his eyes reached his mouth. “Up to you.” Then he scooped her up and carried her back inside. “I’ll help you get unwrapped as soon as I stow the truck.”
As soon as he closed the door behind him, she let a groan escape. Damn! She hadn’t realized just how much of her hurt. Now all her muscles were shrieking again.
Biting her lip, she pulled the mittens off. Hot. She was getting hot in front of the fire. At least she could manage the jacket.
But it was so big that the task proved difficult. The zipper kept wanting to stick, because she couldn’t grab the material to straighten it out. Finally she sagged backward and told herself to just wait.
But God, she was sick of being helpless. Helpless with Kevin, and now helpless in her own battered body. Every time she started to get a handle on her life again, Kevin appeared to blow it all up once again. And this time…this time he’d left her truly helpless. Unable to run, unable to even get out of a damn jacket.
Her anger was coming back, she realized. Replacing fear as her primary motivator, it began to seethe hotly inside her. Good. When she was angry, she took care of things. All kinds of things. Anger more than fear had enabled her to uproot herself again and again. Anger kept her going when fear would have frozen her.
Furious, she grabbed at the zipper again, and this time it slid downward more than half way. Now if she could just pull her arms out of these sleeves, she could get the damn thing off.
“Let me help you.”
She hadn’t heard Clint come back in and gasped at the unexpected sound of his voice. Then she said, “I want to do it.”
“I can see that. And I don’t blame you. But let’s just do it the easy way this time.”
Before she could protest, he pulled the stupid jacket right over her head.
“There. It’s gone.”
Relief and annoyance warred inside her. “Thanks. But I want to do things myself.”
“I get it,” he said. “Believe me, I get it. But when help is handy, what’s the point of making yourself even sorer?” Logic.
She didn’t want logic right now. “Do you have any idea what this feels like?” she demanded. “I can’t even get out of the tub on my own. Or pull off a stupid jacket.”
“I know exactly what it feels like.”
She paused in the middle of her angry tirade and looked at him. Something in his face made her heart sink. “How do you know?” she asked quietly.
He looked away, shrugging. “I’ve been wounded, too.”
Oh God! She suddenly felt so small. Of course. Why hadn’t she guessed that? Because she was so self-absorbed she couldn’t feel a thing for anyone else?
“Do you want those extra socks off?” he asked after an uncomfortable moment. “Please.”
And this time she didn’t object to his help or insist that she could do it herself. It seemed like a small bit of autonomy to give up for a man who had already done so much for her. A man who clearly needed to feel useful just as she did. A man whose reasons were much the same as hers, even if probably far worse in degree.
“Thank you,” she said when he’d removed all but one pair of socks.
“No problem. Maybe we’ll get the power back soon.”
A safe subject. “I’m not really missing it,” she offered. “You have a cozy place here.”
“I like it.” He rose, socks in hand, and started to walk away. Then he looked back. “Take it easy on yourself, Kay.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Obviously.” One side of his mouth lifted a bit. “Always easier to talk than do.”
“Isn’t that the truth.” But she tried to smile back at him.
For a few seconds he didn’t move. It almost seemed as if they were locked in each other’s gazes, as if some quiet kind of understanding passed between them. Then he looked away as if he didn’t want the connection to continue. “Oh, before I forget…”
He walked over to the door where he’d dumped his own outerwear. He bent to pick up something, and as he returned, she saw it was a large tire iron.
“I promised you a weapon. Hold it by the bent end so you can get a good grip.”
She took it from him cautiously. With that simple gesture, he’d brought the nightmare back into the room. Slowly she looked up at him. “I need this to end.”
He nodded. “I understand that, too.”
She had absolutely no doubt that he did.
Clint couldn’t settle, and
he knew exactly why. Senses and instincts honed by so many years in dangerous situations wouldn’t allow him to sit back and relax. Was it likely Kevin would try to come up to the house by way of the drive? Absolutely not. He had to know he would have no chance if he announced his arrival.
So that left hiking through the snow. It would be nice to think he wouldn’t attempt it, but despite what he had said to Kay, Clint was convinced that Kevin was insane enough to try just that.
Why? Because to Clint, Kevin read like a man who had tired of the chase. Maybe it had excited him for a while to know he could find Kay when he wanted and show up to terrify the hell out of her. But he had moved well past that when he’d abducted her, had moved into a crazy place that said he was through with the chase and wanted to finish it for good, regardless of the consequences to himself.
Clint had studied abnormal psychology in some depth because it fascinated him. And he knew about obsessions, including sick obsessions.
The obsession dictated the actions, Clint thought. And Kevin’s obsession could only be ended in one way.
What was more, once the obsession reached full blossom, as it apparently had with Kevin’s abduction of Kay, then it goaded, pressed and drove, demanding resolution, and the faster the better. It could not be repressed for long.
Kevin would most likely come by night, under cover of darkness. In the wee hours, when he would assume everyone in the house was asleep. Well, Clint didn’t plan to sleep. With that snow out there, Kevin’s approach should be clear enough, unless he camouflaged himself. Which was always a possibility. Crazy did not equate to stupid. In fact, it was often the contrary, especially if crazy included an element of paranoia.
Even if Kevin hadn’t grown paranoid as a result of being sent to prison, he was probably paranoid by now. With good reason, since he had to be aware that it was possible his victim had told the police she had been abducted, and that there might be dozens of people looking for him right now.
A sane man would disappear, but Kevin wasn’t sane. Oh, he might be sane enough by legal standards, but he wasn’t sane by any other standard. He was probably hiding somewhere, fighting his compulsion to end this, waiting just long enough to convince himself that people would believe he’d moved on.
But Clint wasn’t going to fall for that one. So how long would the guy judge that he needed? Impossible to know for sure. Maybe a few more days. At most. Because his obsession would goad him past patience, too. He would want this over and done with.
And of course he would have no idea what a formidable opponent he would be facing once he entered the house.
Clint performed a mental checklist. The guy would wait, hoping the heat would lessen. Then he would want to observe the house for a while to figure out how many people were inside. He could do that while he waited, now that the storm was over.
But there was another wrinkle, too. Assuming that had been Kevin who’d driven by them on the road, how could Kevin be sure Kay was still in the house? Clearly, merely by turning around a few miles up the road and backtracking he would have figured out that Clint had taken her there to start with.
But how could he be sure she hadn’t been taken elsewhere since then?
For one thing, it would be easy for anyone to find out if she was in the hospital. Equally obvious was the likelihood that Clint hadn’t taken her anywhere else because of the storm. In fact, it was unlikely that Kevin, even if he’d been nearby, would have seen Micah come to the house, given the state of the roads.
So that left what? The fact that Clint had brought Kay to his place and still had her. The fact that the guy couldn’t be sure the cops hadn’t been advised of Kay’s abduction and his own description. In fact, it was likely they had been. But the truth was, all of Kay’s attempts to keep her presence secret had probably been wasted from the moment Kevin saw Clint rescuing her.
Clint almost swore, then remembered Kay was nearby. He didn’t want to worry her, much less unleash a stream of questions he couldn’t adequately answer.
So okay, another few days maybe, enough for Kevin to feel things had calmed down and plan a stealthy approach to the house. But that would be the max, because Kevin’s internal demons would be driving him.
A couple of days.
Not very long.
Chapter 8
The phone rang in the early afternoon, announcing that at least part of the world had started to return to normal. Clint answered it and found Deputy Sarah Ironheart on the other end.
“Hey, Clint,” she said cheerfully. Her husband, Gideon, kept Clint’s horses for the winter, and despite himself, he’d become a part of the Ironheart family. “Hi, Sarah.”
“Micah said I needed to come by and take some photos of your guest.”
Clint froze. His mind spun through a series of possibilities very fast. Then, “Sarah, I think it would be a very good idea right now if we didn’t advertise that the law knows Kay is here.”
She fell silent for a few seconds. “You think he’s watching?”
“I think he’d be a fool not to be. And I want him to think the heat’s off.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I promised her we’d end this. If you don’t run across him on the roads, then the end is going to happen here. And frankly, the sooner the better. This guy strikes me as a mental case. He’s not going to wait long.”
Sarah didn’t hesitate. “I could come in civvies and take her out of there.”
“And what if he sees?”
“Good point. Okay. I’ll talk to Micah and Gage, and see if we can’t set up some loose surveillance. Or at least keep some cars near your place.”
“My bet is that he won’t come by road. And I don’t want him scared off, because he’ll just come after her another time.”
“You believe that?”
“Absolutely. This guy is obsessed, and there’s only one way to end it. And I honestly don’t think at this stage in his obsession that he’s willing to wait for her to move on again. Or even wait very long to come after her here. What if she disappears for real? I don’t think he’s willing to risk that.”
“All right, then. We’ll see what we can do to help without being seen. But don’t be surprised if you get a call from Gage. He won’t be happy.”
“Gage has done enough undercover work in his life. He’ll get it.”
When he hung up, he found a very pale Kay watching him.
“I’m sorry I’m causing you so much trouble.”
What had brought that on? He ran his conversation with Sarah back in his mind and remembered the phrase, Frankly, the sooner the better. He could well imagine how she’d taken that.
Ordinarily he would have let it pass without explanation. He cared very little about what most people thought of him, but somehow he already cared what Kay thought. Part of him reared up to object, but it didn’t stand a chance, not against that look on her face. Especially when abuse had made her so vulnerable and left her feeling like something to be kicked to the curb.
“I just want you out of danger as soon as possible. That’s not the same as wanting to get rid of you as soon as possible.”
She nodded, but her expression didn’t change. He guessed she didn’t believe him. And then she asked, “So we’re bait in a trap?”
“Maybe.”
“There’s no maybe about it. It’s the best way to get at him.”
Then she closed her eyes, as if that admission had taken the last of her strength, and all the vivacity that had begun to return to her seemed to drain away.
Hell. He didn’t want to be responsible for this. He didn’t want to make her feel bad, but he wanted even less than that for her to care enough that he could make her feel bad. There was no future in it for either of them. Best if she just perceived him as a weapon to use to get free of Kevin.
But the truth was, she was too nice to look at other people that way—even him. He’d seen it already, in her concern that he not wind up with Kevin on his consc
ience. As if his conscience would note the weight added to the tonnage it already carried.
He swore under his breath. The cracks inside were getting wider, and dammit, he wasn’t sure he wanted to fill them up with cement again. He should have turned and walked out of the room. Immediately.
Instead, looking at her wan, sad face, something else took over, something visceral, and he walked toward her, not away from her. He’d never felt like this before about anything that didn’t involve life and death, but somehow that woman’s hurt seemed every bit as important to him as his own survival.
He sat on the couch beside her, then gathered her onto his lap as carefully as he could manage when every cell in his body wanted to play the caveman.
Her eyes flew open, and her lips parted in astonishment.
Quit now, he told himself. Stop!
But he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. This woman made him helpless in ways he hated, in ways he couldn’t fight. In ways that knocked his barriers flat.
He lowered his head, needing to kiss her. Needing to let her know that at least one person in this world didn’t think of her as trash to be kicked and then kicked aside.
And this time he needed something far gentler than the earlier crushing kiss he’d given her. He needed to feel like he wasn’t a monster.
As his mouth settled over hers, he felt her gasp, taking breath from him, saw her eyes widen, then flutter closed. She accepted his kiss as if she’d been waiting for it forever.
Ah, God, he thought as a new pain washed over him—a longing for an ordinary life, one that hadn’t been blighted by his own failures. One that hadn’t proved he was a monster at heart.
The yearning was so intense he couldn’t break its grip. Just a few moments, he promised himself. Just this little bit and no more.
His lips moved gently on hers, asking, not demanding, a desperate question asked with utmost care, more care than he’d felt in a long time.
She answered tentatively at first, then as if she felt a hunger of her own. And she probably did. She must be as desperate as he was to know she wasn’t just human garbage.
