by Kat Martin
“I don’t want to wish him bad luck, but I hope they catch whoever’s responsible.”
“Yeah. Speaking of which, I talked to Cole and Noah, brought them up to speed. You got a photo of your ex?”
“I had pictures of him on my cell phone. I threw it away when I left Phoenix. I couldn’t stand to look at him. Plus I didn’t want him to be able to track me. Of course he managed to find me anyway. Since then, I’ve been using a disposable.”
“Smart girl.”
“No photos, but we could use your computer, search the Internet for a picture. I just . . . I don’t want to leave any traces he might be able to follow.”
“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. In the meantime, how about a general description? What’s he look like? Short? Tall? Fat? Thin? Any tattoos, identifying marks?”
“Damon’s good-looking. About six-one, thick black hair, olive complexion, nice build. Not like you, but nice.”
Josh’s mouth edged up.
“He’s smart and he’s charming. That’s how he sucks you in. He finds out what interests you and makes it seem like the two of you have a lot in common.”
“All right, that helps. Anything else?”
“He’s diabolical. He isn’t just bad, he’s evil. He killed a stray dog I was feeding when we lived in Phoenix because I said something he didn’t like. That’s when I started making plans to leave. In Houston, he murdered my neighbor’s kitten. He’s a psychopath and he’s terrifying.”
“Hey, take it easy. The guy’s not coming near you, okay?”
She realized her hands were balled into fists and forced herself to relax. “Sorry. I don’t like to think about him.”
“You don’t have to. So far there’s no reason to believe he did it. But just to be safe, Cole and Noah will be checking the perimeter several times a day. I’ll be keeping an eye out around here. He shows up, we’ll be ready.” He flashed a wide, reassuring smile. “All you need to think about is making the perfect meatloaf, okay?”
Josh didn’t smile that often, but when he did, it was devastating. Tory felt hot all the way to her toes. “Okay.”
Josh left to unload the supplies he’d brought back from town and Tory went in to check on Ivy and finish supper. If Damon had burned down the barn, if he had followed her to Iron Springs, Josh would deal with him. His promise made Tory feel safer.
And it scared her to death.
Chapter Ten
Damon slowed the rental car as he drove past the house. It was dark, a layer of clouds hiding the moon. There were no lights on, nothing to disturb the blackness. At this late hour, Lisa would be sleeping. He hadn’t planned to take things this far, but the little redheaded bitch who belonged to him had eluded him long enough.
He’d found her in Houston without much trouble, but it had taken him months to find her in Carlsbad—even with the help of his overpaid detective. After the way she’d hurt him that night, left him bound and humiliated on the floor of her apartment, she could run to the ends of the earth and he would still find her. He wouldn’t give up until he did.
More than a month had passed since then. It infuriated him that she’d been able to hide from him so long. Worse yet, this time she had completely disappeared and even his pricey investigator had no idea where to look for her.
A problem Damon planned to remedy tonight.
He parked the car in the alley behind the simple three-bedroom tract house in the Desert Hills subdivision on the east side of Phoenix. Pulling on a pair of snug black leather gloves, he headed for the rear gate, opened it, and slipped into the backyard.
Lisa Shane was Tory’s best friend, the only close friend she had. Her father had left her mother when Tory was just a kid. She’d told him once that her old man had remarried and was living in Florida with a whole new family. He had severed his ties with her and she had severed hers with him. Her mother had died a few years before Damon had met her.
He took his time, made a cursory examination of the house but saw no sign of an alarm system. People were such fools.
Of course, it didn’t really matter. He’d been able to get past most digital alarms since he was in high school.
He took a set of lock picks out of his pocket. He’d been what the teachers had called a troubled teen. His parents were divorced. His dad had raised him and his dad was filthy rich.
As a teenager, Damon had more spending money than any other kid in school, but the adrenal rush he got from breaking into a house while the owner was in there sleeping, or beating up some itinerant on the sidewalk was a thrill he’d craved like a drug.
Over the years, it had taken more and more to get that kind of rush, but the high was a fire in his blood.
By the time he’d graduated college, his need had become so powerful he realized it was something beyond the realm of normal, something he would have to control.
It took some effort, but he had learned to do just that.
As an executive in his father’s real estate development company, he made a fat salary for doing a minimum of work, lived in a beautiful condo, and fucked pretty much any woman he wanted. He was good-looking and he could be charming, a talent he used to get what he wanted.
Until Tory, he’d kept his personal life separate from the secret life he led, but the little whore he had stupidly fallen for and planned to marry had managed to destroy his hard-earned control.
He could still remember how furious he’d been when he’d seen her getting out of another man’s car. That night he’d managed to tamp down his anger, letting only a little of it show. She was a cheating whore, he’d discovered, and sooner or later, he intended to make her pay.
Still, he enjoyed her in bed and he didn’t mind keeping her around. They’d only had one real argument—something about her wanting to go out with her girlfriends, which he had strictly forbidden.
Then came the night he’d caught her moving out of his house. As if he’d allow her to make that decision. His temper had finally snapped. He could still remember the rush he’d gotten when he’d dealt with the conniving little bitch. Hitting her, punishing her, watching her bleed made him feel like a king.
After accepting his ring, then cheating on him, she deserved everything he’d done to her that night. Everything he planned to do once he got his hands on her again. All he had to do was find her.
Damon put the lock picks to work, quickly opened the back door, and slipped silently into the house. Making his way quietly down the hall, he reached the master bedroom.
His dick throbbed at the sight of the pretty young woman in bed, the sheet pushed down to expose the top half of her body in a sheer lavender nightgown. Moonlight silvered her long, pale blond hair, and her lips were slightly parted.
He imagined what he could do with that pretty mouth and felt a fresh rush of heat. Moving farther into the room, he eased all the way up to the side of the bed. For a moment he just watched her, enjoying the rise and fall of her breasts, the shadow of her nipples beneath the lavender silk.
Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, reached out, and clamped a hand over her mouth. Lisa jolted wide awake and shot up in the bed, fighting and thrashing and trying to scream. His gloved hand muffled the sound.
Shoving her back down in the mattress, he used his body to pin her to the bed. He could feel her heart thumping, feel her soft breasts against his chest, feel her mound. It was really turning him on.
“Take it easy and I won’t hurt you.” She was trembling. It aroused him even more, and he started getting hard. “Keep quiet and I’ll move my hand. Okay?”
By now Lisa had seen his face. She recognized him and managed to nod. Her eyes were big and blue and wide with fear. Knowing he was the cause made his heart race almost as fast as hers. He eased his hand away.
“What . . . what do you want?”
He gave her one of his charming smiles. “Now is that any way to greet an old friend? It’s been months since we’ve seen each other.”
Some of h
er courage came back. “Get off me, Damon.” She struggled. He didn’t move.
“I want to know where Victoria is.”
Lisa shook her head. “I don’t . . . I don’t know.”
He wrapped a hand around her throat and tightened his hold just a little. Lisa gasped in a breath.
“You know. She’s your best friend. Tell me where she is.”
She swallowed. He could feel the up-and-down movement beneath his hand and sexual heat slid through him.
“She . . . she calls me, but she never says where she is. That’s . . . that’s the truth. I really don’t know where to find her.”
“Where’s your phone?”
Barely able to move her head with his hand around her neck, she slid her eyes toward the nightstand. “Over there.”
He picked up the phone with his free hand, went to recent calls, and ran back through the list of dozens of phone calls, but there was no way to know which number belonged to Tory.
His fingers tightened around her throat and he jerked her into a sitting position. “Look through the numbers. Find the one that belongs to her.”
“You’re hurting . . . hurting me.” She tried to pry his fingers loose but he squeezed until she stopped.
“Behave yourself and I won’t hurt you. Find the number that belongs to Tory.”
“It’s . . . it’s always a disposable phone. She gets rid of it after she calls and buys . . . buys a new one.”
Fury made his hand shake. He tightened his grip until she gagged and started thrashing. Damon loosened his hold.
“How often does she call?”
“Every . . . every week or so.”
He couldn’t track Victoria’s phone the way he’d planned. But she would call her friend again. He would have to go to plan B. It was a lot more dangerous, but the rush was already working its way through his blood. He yanked Lisa to her feet. “Put on some clothes.”
“What? Why?”
He backhanded her across the face. “You don’t ask questions, you just do it.”
Tears sprang into her big blue eyes. She rubbed her cheek and glanced past him toward the door, but he blocked any chance of escape. She moved to the dresser, pulled out a bra, panties, jeans, and a yellow T-shirt, turned and started for the bathroom.
“Put them on in here.”
She shook her head. “No way. I’m not letting you watch me.”
He needed to be on his way. He’d humor her—this time. He tipped his head toward the bathroom door. “Go ahead.”
As soon as she went into the room and started to close the door, he caught up with her and shoved it open. No window inside, just glass blocks to let in light. “Hurry up.” Stepping back he allowed her to close the door.
Minutes passed. When she didn’t come out soon enough, his temper started to rise. He’d give her a little longer, then kick the door open and drag her out.
The knob turned and Lisa walked into the bedroom. In the moonlight, her face was nearly as pale as her silver-blond hair.
“Put on some shoes,” he said.
Eyeing the bedroom door, which he stood in front of, she sat on the edge of the mattress and put on her sneakers, then got up and faced him.
“I’m dressed, Damon. Now finish whatever you have planned and get out of my house.”
“Oh, I’m getting out.” A cold smile curved his lips. “The thing is, you’re coming with me.”
She cried out as the stun gun hit her in the chest. Another hit and she collapsed bonelessly to the floor. The lesson Victoria had taught him worked perfectly. Lisa’s body jerked a few times, her eyes and mouth open, but she didn’t move.
Damon stunned her again, then hauled her up and tossed her over his shoulder, using a fireman’s carry to get her out of the house.
Once he reached the alley, he opened the trunk of the rental car and dumped her inside, used the plastic ties he’d brought with him to bind her hands and feet, stuffed a gag in her mouth and tied it in place with a scarf. Then he got into the plain white, four-door rented Toyota and started the engine.
As he drove away, the thrill was nearly overwhelming. He’d had no idea how good it would feel to have someone completely at his mercy.
The possibilities were endless.
And he finally had a way to reach Tory. She would call sooner or later. He didn’t like waiting, but he could be a patient man. Especially when he had a pretty blonde to keep him entertained. Damon turned the corner and drove off down the street.
* * *
Days passed. The gray mare had her foal, a beautiful little black filly, the cutest thing Tory had ever seen. Ivy could sit in front of the stall for hours just watching her.
Instead of watching the foal, Tory had started the annoying habit of watching Josh through the window above the kitchen sink. Lately everything about him seemed to intrigue her—the way he moved, his almost soundless footsteps, the way he appeared in one place then seemed to disappear without ever actually walking away.
Sometimes when he rode one of the horses out of the barn, he looked so good she could barely tear her eyes away. On a warm day, he worked with his shirt off, putting all those glorious muscles on display. She wanted to touch him, run her fingers over all that hard male flesh.
It was insane. She didn’t understand it.
In the beginning, before Damon had turned into a monster, the sex had been good. She had enjoyed the closeness, the intimacy, but she hadn’t lusted after him. She hadn’t thought about what it would be like to kiss him, how his hands would feel on her body. What he might do to her in bed.
Until Josh, she had never lusted after a man before. Jamie had been her high school sweetheart, neither of them sexually experienced. After the beating Damon had inflicted, she’d been afraid she might never want to go out with a man again, certainly would never feel the kind of hungry need she felt for Joshua Cain.
Maybe it was his protective nature, the way he was putting himself out there to help her. Maybe it was the way Ivy had put her trust in him when the little girl had been so afraid of men before.
Whatever it was, Tory did everything in her power not to let him know how strongly he affected her. She didn’t want to be the woman the sheriff and the fire chief thought she was, a kept woman Josh paid for the use of her body.
She didn’t want him to sleep with her and have him think of her that way, too.
Instead, she stayed away from him as much as she could and he seemed to do his best to stay away from her. If it weren’t for Star, she would barely have to see him at all, except at supper.
But Josh refused to let her anywhere near the stallion unless he was close by. He didn’t want her going into the pasture, always made sure she remained on the other side of the fence.
Josh stayed far enough away not to upset the horse, but near enough to guide her or step in if something went wrong. So far that hadn’t happened.
They’d set up a schedule. Josh had officially hired Mrs. Thompson to come over and stay with Ivy for a couple of hours in the afternoon so he and Tory could work with Star. She had bought carrots and apples at the store and the stallion loved them.
Now she also grained him. At first he hadn’t liked the feed bag she eased over his head, snorting and dancing and backing away. But little by little, his curiosity got the better of him and he returned to the fence to explore the object in her hand.
“It’s all right, Star. This silly bag won’t hurt you. And wait till you taste what’s inside.”
The molasses-covered grain was a special treat, which the animal quickly discovered when she held the bag up to give him a taste.
Eventually, he allowed her to ease the strap over his head. Tory rubbed his ears and played with his topknot while he ate. When the grain was gone, she walked back over to where Josh stood by the fence.
“I want to go into the pasture. He’s never tried to hurt me. I don’t think he will.”
“Not yet,” Josh said. “I’ve got a call in to the man who o
wned the ranch before I bought it. I know he wasn’t the stallion’s original owner. I’m hoping he can tell me who was. I want to know as much as I can about Satan—”
“Star,” she corrected.
“Fine. I want to know as much about Star as I can before you get close enough for him to hurt you.”
She sighed. Star tossed his head and nickered. She thought of his sleek black coat and long-lashed dark brown eyes. “I wonder if he’d ever let me ride him.”
Josh’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you kidding me? You don’t know how to ride and this sure as hell isn’t the horse for you to learn on.”
She told herself not to say it, but the words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Maybe you could teach me.”
Something hot and glittering flashed in his eyes, then it was gone. “You want me to teach you to ride,” he said darkly.
“Why not? This is a ranch, isn’t it? You have a whole bunch of horses. Surely one of them is tame enough for me to handle.”
He shoved his hat back with the tip of his finger, then tugged it into place again. “I don’t have time. I’ve got to rebuild the barn.”
It was true, but she didn’t think that was the reason. “You’re right. You’ve got a lot to do. It’s no big deal.”
Those incredible blue eyes slid over her body in a way that made her nipples peak beneath her cotton blouse. For a moment he closed his eyes as if he were in pain.
“Fine, I’ll teach you to ride. I’ll pick a horse and starting tomorrow, we’ll ask Mrs. T. to stay an extra hour in the afternoon. That suit you?”
Excited, she nodded. “I’m a quick learner. With any luck it won’t take too long.”
“Yeah, with any luck,” he grumbled. He turned toward the pile of black rubble that once was a barn. “I’m heading into town. So far the sheriff hasn’t done squat. I want to talk to Randy Stevens.”
Since the night of the fire, there hadn’t been any more trouble. Tory thought that if Damon had burned down the barn, he would have done something else by now. But the sheriff hadn’t made an arrest yet, so everyone on the ranch stayed wary.
