Justice for Erin (Badge of Honor: Texas Heroes Book 9)

by Susan Stoker

  “You need to eat,” the man repeated as if she hadn’t spoken, and held up the spoon once more.

  Erin gathered as much spit as she could, which wasn’t enough for what she wanted to do, and spat at the man. “Get away from me,” she hissed.

  Instead of being upset, the man merely sighed again. He put the MRE to the side and stood.

  Erin glared up at him defiantly.

  He went back to the table he’d been sitting at and fiddled with something. Erin pulled harder at her bindings. The rope around her wrists chafed, but she ignored it. She needed to get free. Needed to find Conor. Had this man hurt him too?

  Her captor walked back over to her with a piece of fabric in his hand. He moved lightning fast, and before Erin knew what he intended, he had his hand over her nose and mouth, the fabric held firmly in place.

  He was going to smother her. Erin struggled as hard as she ever had before—to no avail.

  “Shhh,” the man soothed calmly, holding her still as she struggled. “At least I got some water into you. Got to keep your strength up. Once your ankle heals a bit more and you can run properly, I’ll let you go. It’s no fun to hunt wounded animals. Where’s the challenge in that?”

  Erin didn’t understand what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. Her eyes drooped. Whatever chemical he had on the fabric was doing its job. The last thing she heard before losing consciousness was, “I love your fight. You’ll be my most worthy hunt yet.”

  After searching all night, the only thing they’d found was faint tire tracks from some sort of all-terrain vehicle. Whoever had taken Erin had carried her to where he’d stashed the ATV and had driven off. They’d tried to follow the tracks, but they’d lost them in the wilderness.

  Beth had called Conor back an hour or two after he’d first talked to her and let him know that she’d tracked Erin’s phone and, as he suspected, the last time she used it was to text him. She also said that the phone wasn’t currently transmitting a signal.

  Conor allowed himself a moment of despair. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, giving the area a pretty golden glow. It would’ve been a hell of a sunrise to experience with Erin on their first morning camping, but instead he was sharing it with around two dozen men and women who were eating a rushed breakfast provided by the search and rescue support team.

  “We’re going to find her,” Hayden said quietly. She and the rest of his law enforcement friends had come as soon as they’d heard Erin was missing. Conor hadn’t had to ask, they’d just appeared about the same time as the SAR teams. He knew Beth had called them.

  Conor didn’t answer Hayden verbally, he just nodded. He didn’t know if he believed her. People disappeared without a trace all the time. Hell, look at Erin’s father. He’d been there one day and gone the next.

  He didn’t want to believe that would be the case with Erin, but even with the most experienced search and rescue teams in the state, they hadn’t found hide nor hair of her. The dogs had picked up human scent, of Erin or her kidnapper, but where he’d climbed into the ATV, the dogs had lost them.

  Hayden put her hand on Conor’s arm. “Don’t give up. She’s smart, Conor. She knows we’re looking for her.”

  “Yeah.” It wasn’t much, but it was all he could muster at the moment.

  His phone rang, sparing him from any more forced positivity from his friend.

  “Paxton.”

  “It’s Beth. Any sign of her? Any other information?” Beth’s voice was rough, as if she hadn’t slept all night, which she probably hadn’t.

  “No. I was hoping you would have more information. But it’s obvious you don’t. So is this it? There’s nothing more we can do to find her?” Conor asked in frustration.

  “I didn’t say that,” Beth clipped. “Look, it’s not like she was snatched on a street in the city where there’s a camera on every corner. I can only work with technology, and without her phone, and without the number of the phone of whoever took her, I don’t have anything to go by. I am searching satellite images to see if I can’t catch a glimpse of the ATV you said you found traces of. I’m also searching the databases for the make and model of its tires using the pictures you sent me of the tracks.”

  Conor could feel the pulse frantically beating in his neck. He felt kind of sick from all the adrenaline coursing through his body for the last eight hours. But he knew perfectly well how little they had to go on. It was great they had Beth on their side, but she was right. Her expertise with technology wouldn’t help Erin in this situation.

  “Thank you,” he told her sincerely. “I appreciate anything you can do.”

  Beth cleared her throat before saying, “When I was taken, I had no hope whatsoever that anyone was looking for me. No one knew I was missing. But Erin’s different. She knew you were going to join her soon. She knows you’ll do whatever it takes to save her. Don’t give up on her. No matter what’s going through your head, don’t give up. You’d be surprised at how tough us women are.”

  “No, I’m not surprised at all,” Conor told Beth softly. “And thank you. I’ve been sitting here thinking about how scared and helpless Erin must be feeling, but you reminded me that while she might be scared, she certainly isn’t helpless. Between you, Mackenzie, Corrie, Laine, hell, even Adeline and Sophie…I’ve got amazing role models of strong, resilient women all around me. And you’re right, I’m not going to give up until I’ve found her.”

  “Right. So I’m going to go hack into the top-secret military satellites. The Google one is a piece of shit. Later.”

  Conor wanted to laugh at Beth, but he didn’t have it in him. He clicked off his phone.

  “Beth might be a techie geek, but she’s one of the smartest women I know.”

  Conor jerked in surprised and looked up to see Hayden still standing next to him. He’d forgotten all about her. “Yeah.”

  “Come on. You’re not eating that breakfast burrito on your plate, so let’s go over the maps again,” Hayden urged.

  Conor was more than happy to chuck the now cold sausage-and-egg burrito he’d been given. He wasn’t hungry, not in the least. He didn’t think he’d be able to keep anything down anyway. He needed to find Erin.

  When Erin woke up again, she was quicker to remember what had happened to her. The same man from earlier was sitting on a stool at her feet. He had her injured ankle in his hand and was gently rotating it and pressing on the swollen tissue on the side. The air around them smelled pungent, as if he’d used some sort of lotion on her injured ankle.

  She tried to jerk her leg away from him so she could kick him in the head, but he held her calf with an iron grip she couldn’t break away from.

  “You’re awake again,” he said.

  Erin pressed her lips together tightly and refused to talk to him. She pulled on her arms, but they were just as secure as they were the last time. She was well and truly trussed up and wasn’t going anywhere until the man let her go. She had no idea how long she’d been out of it, time was impossible to tell since he kept drugging her.

  His free hand brushed up her shin then back down. He did it over and over, as if he were trying to gentle a horse. “Shhhhh, easy. You’re okay.” His words were mumbled into her leg, as though he didn’t want to look up at her face. “I think another day and you’ll be good to go.”

  “Please,” Erin croaked, not able to keep quiet any longer. “Let me go. I have a boyfriend, he’s looking for me. I bet he has half the state of Texas trying to find me too. It’s in your best interest to set me free.”

  “Interesting choice of words,” the man drawled, looking up at her for the first time.

  Erin didn’t like his eyes on her nearly naked body, but she was less concerned about what she was or wasn’t wearing at the moment. The man’s eyes were gray. A dark, cold gunmetal gray that held no compassion whatsoever. She shivered.

  “I can’t let you go until your ankle heals. And you need your strength.” He made sure her ankle was secured back to the cot
before turning and picking up another MRE.

  Erin watched as he filled the pouch with water and stirred it up. He took a bite and swallowed, probably proving that it wasn’t tainted.

  He scooted to the head of the cot and held out a spoon filled with what looked like some sort of pasta. He didn’t say anything, which was super creepy. Erin wanted to knock the spoon into his face, but her stomach growled right at that moment.

  She was hungry. She didn’t know what time it was but the inside of the makeshift tent was bright, with sunlight coming through the large gaps in the material. Hating herself, but knowing if she was going to escape this crazy asshole, she needed her strength, as he’d said, she opened her mouth.

  The man’s lips quirked upward, but he didn’t say anything. He spooned the rather disgusting food into her mouth, and Erin jerked her head back from him as soon as he pulled the spoon away. She swallowed with difficulty and kept her eyes on the man in front of her.

  She tried to memorize everything about him so she could tell the cops later. From the scar bisecting one eyebrow, to the mole on the left side of his neck, to the way he smelled…like body odor and dirt.

  Erin accepted another half dozen spoonfuls of the meal, then turned her head away from him. She couldn’t choke down any more, no matter how hungry she was.

  She felt something on her head—his hand, petting her—and jerked as far away from the man as she could.

  Turning angry eyes his way, Erin saw that he was grinning at her.

  He stood and went to the other side of the tent and the table he’d set up. When he turned, and Erin saw he was holding another piece of fabric, she went berserk.

  “No! Get away from me. Don’t touch me!” She thrashed against her bindings, terrified that he’d suffocate her this time instead of merely drugging her.

  When he kept walking toward her with that evil half grin on his face, she truly began to panic. She wasn’t afraid the man was going to touch her or do anything sexual to her. He’d had plenty of time to do that already, but her body felt fine. He hadn’t molested her even though she was lying on the cot nearly naked.

  No, he had something else in mind, something which didn’t bode well for her. Not at all.

  She flung her head from side to side, trying to prevent him from being able to put the cloth over her face, but tied down, she was no match for him.

  As the slightly sweet smell penetrated her nose, Erin once again had to listen to him murmuring in her ear right before she passed out from whatever he’d drugged her with.

  “Tomorrow, wildcat. Our fun starts tomorrow.”

  Conor wanted to punch something. Preferably whoever had taken Erin from him.

  Earlier that afternoon, one of the dogs had found a pile of clothes—Erin’s clothes. More specifically, her three-quarter-sleeve T-shirt and a pair of jeans. The same clothes he’d seen her put on yesterday morning.

  They had been cut with a knife. The bastard had cut off her clothes.

  Daydreams of what was happening to Erin plagued Conor. He imagined her in a cave, lying on the dirty ground, naked. When she saw him enter the cave, she picked up her head and said, “Why didn’t you come for me?” before turning into a pile of dust in front of his eyes and blowing away.

  He’d barely held back a cry as he jolted back to reality, and had refused to think about her fate for the rest of the afternoon.

  He stared at the man standing over a large map. They were in the parking area at the campsite except now it was teeming with people. There were large RVs housing the search and rescue teams, a food truck had arrived earlier, as well as at least a dozen other vehicles.

  Tuning out the man—and the newest plan for searching for Erin—Conor turned his back on the table and wandered away. He crossed the field of bluebonnets to the campsite that Erin had so carefully set up more than twenty-four hours earlier. Keeping his back to the hustle and bustle, he climbed up onto the picnic table and sat. He leaned his elbows on his knees and stared out into the wilderness.

  Not surprised, he heard the wooden table groan as he was joined by two of his friends.

  “What’re you thinking?” Cruz asked.

  “You don’t want to know,” Conor told him, then turned to Dax. “How did you do it?” he asked his friend. “How did you keep your shit together knowing that Mackenzie was hurting and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it?”

  The Texas Ranger didn’t answer for a long moment. Finally, he said, “The only thing that kept me sane was knowing if I did lose it, she’d have that much less of a chance of being found.”

  Conor swallowed hard. Yeah, he knew that. It was the only reason he wasn’t destroying anything and everything in his sight. “He took her clothes off.” The words were forced out from his tight throat. “Cut them off. He’s got her somewhere, and she’s not wearing any fucking clothes.”

  “She’s tough,” Cruz murmured.

  “You don’t understand,” Conor said, shaking his head.

  “Tell us,” Dax commanded. “You’ll feel better to get it out.”

  Conor didn’t want to. It wasn’t his secret to tell. But Dax was right, the thought of what Erin was going through was eating him alive. He needed to share it with his friends.

  Before he could open his mouth, they were joined by Quint, TJ, Weston, Hayden, and Calder. No one said a word. They were all there, silently supporting him.

  Conor swallowed hard, then talked about Erin. His friends knew about her struggle with food and obesity, but he wanted them to know more about her as a person She was more than her past.

  He told them about her love of silly gameshows on television. How much he’d been looking forward to trying her Dutch oven lasagna. What a great leader she was, and how she’d been so patient and easygoing with the students on the canoe trip. He told them how much she enjoyed teaching, most of the time, and how she was working toward tenure at the university. And he told them how important she was to him, and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  When he was finished telling his best friends everything he loved about Erin, he went on to explain why he was so tortured.

  “She can’t bear to show me—the man she admitted she loves, and who loves her back—her body. She just recently started wearing one of my short-sleeve T-shirts to bed. The woman has never made love…and that was going to be mine. I was going to show her how beautiful she is, inside and out. And now she’s out there somewhere with a man who cut off her clothes. She hasn’t been naked in front of anyone her entire life…and I’m afraid if we do find her, she’s not going to be the same Erin I fell in love with.”

  “She won’t be,” Dax said, not harshly. “Mackenzie is different in a lot of ways after what she went through. But, Conor, different isn’t necessarily bad.”

  “I said this to Quint when we were on the way to find Corrie,” Hayden said quietly. “Don’t underestimate your woman, Conor. You’re all alpha men. Used to being in charge. Used to being able to slay dragons with a flick of your wrist, but what you don’t understand is that many times us women can hold our own sword. We might need your help when it comes to making the final kill, but the fight is ours.”

  Conor looked at the only woman in the group. “She was a virgin, Hayden. She was going to be mine.”

  One second, Conor was looking at Hayden, and the next he was trying not to fall off the picnic table from the force of the blow she landed on the back of his head.

  “Pull your head out of your ass, Paxton,” Hayden said in a low, deadly tone. “If that’s your attitude, then she’s better off without you.”

  Conor sat up and glared at Hayden. She was supposed to be making him feel better, not pissing him off.

  “She’s right,” Quint added. “Erin is still yours. Would it make you feel better right now if she’d been with two hundred guys before you?”

  Conor stilled and stared at his friend. “No,” he whispered.

  “Right. So yeah, it sucks that she’s never bee
n with a man, but that doesn’t make what happens to her any more awful than if she’d been with hundreds of men before now,” Quint said.

  “And you saying ‘she was going to be mine’ is just stupid,” Hayden said with her arms crossed. “What you’re implying is that you no longer want her because of what you’re imagining is happening.”

  “That’s not true,” Conor was quick to say. “She’s mine no matter what.”

  “Right. Here’s my take on the situation,” Hayden said. “Your woman went through a lot of shit. She managed to make it to age eighteen with a bitch of a mother trying to eat away at her soul. She was strong enough to change her eating habits…by herself, with no family support. That makes her one tough broad. She might be suffering, but she won’t quit, Conor. I can guarantee it.”

  “You and her run together all the time, right?” Calder asked out of the blue.

  “Yeah.”

  “She’s in shape. If she can get away from whoever took her, she could run a long time.”

  Conor nodded. “True.”

  “And we didn’t find her shoes or lingerie, right?” Cruz asked.

  “That’s right, only her T-shirt and jeans,” Conor confirmed.

  “Right, so if she does have to run, maybe she’s not completely naked and, most importantly, she’s got her shoes,” Weston confirmed.

  Conor stood and went to the edge of the campsite. A couple steps forward and he’d be engulfed into the wilderness of the area. He took a deep breath. His friends were right. He needed to stop thinking about how weak Erin was, and start remembering just how fucking tough she could be. And yeah, he hated to imagine what she might be going through, but his Erin wouldn’t give up. She’d do whatever it took to escape and get back to him.

  “Give me a sign, bright eyes. I’m going find you, but you need to help me.” His words were low, but not so soft his friends didn’t hear them.

  “We’ll be on the lookout,” Hayden said, putting her hand on his arm. “She’s smart. She’ll figure out a way to let us know where she is.”