by Debra Kayn
“Rain … we need to talk about this.” She shook her head. “Never mind, it’ll wait.”
He leaned over and kissed her. “Come on. Let’s get you to the truck. I need to go have a talk with Crystal and see if I can find Sanchez. I’ll put two riders on you. Call me once you’re in the house, and make sure you set the alarm.”
“Honey — ”
“Don’t ask.” He opened the door. “It’s who I am. I take care of my own.”
Several minutes later, he watched her reverse out of the parking lot and drive through the crowd. He slipped his hands into his front pockets and stared at the taillights. Then he pivoted and went looking for Jedman, hoping to hell he could put tonight to bed.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Inside the house, Tori locked the door, set the alarm, and called Rain. Then she dragged herself up the stairs. All she could think about was getting off her feet and closing her eyes.
Unsettled by what had happened tonight, she wanted to escape the nausea and desperation gripping her. The thought of Rain turning against her, believing she’d jumped into Sanchez’s business with him and would go after Rain, sickened her.
Earlier, she’d sat on top of the world, thinking nothing could be better and having hope for the future. She’d seen a side of Rain she’d never thought to see in a big, bad biker dude. He supported families, children, and cared about every single person he knew. It was more than that. He felt responsible for them.
Then the nightmare with Crystal started, and she found herself tossed into the cold, dark world she’d visited before and hated. She’d wanted to run, and Rain wasn’t there to stop her.
She changed out of her clothes and slipped on Rain’s sweatshirt and a pair of spandex shorts. Then she crawled under the covers, letting the air conditioner hum comfort her. She wanted him home.
Aware of what she’d put him through, guilt gnawed her insides. She shouldn’t have sent Jedman to Rain, and she should’ve stayed in the beer garden.
Somehow, she’d convince him how sorry she was for not following his orders. She closed her eyes, but all she saw was the disappointment and hurt in Rain’s eyes when he found her with Raul.
Damn Raul. He’d known all along that, if she knew who he was, she’d refuse to serve him his coffee in the mornings. She’d never once believed he was serious when he flirted with her, and she’d made it no secret that she belonged to Rain.
She hated that she’d fallen for his lines and believed he cared about her. He’d called her a friend, but friends don’t lie to each other.
The doorbell rang. She sat up and, thinking Rain had come home early, ran down the stairs. She flipped on the outside light and used the peephole in the new door. Shit.
A man with scraggily hair, a week’s worth of whiskers on his face, and dressed in an old T-shirt and ripped jeans stood on the other side of the door. He looked everywhere but at the door. She rolled back on her bare heels and bit down on her lip, trying to think if he was one of the Bantorus members, or if she’d seen him tonight at the Summer-Palooza.
The bell rang again. She glanced at the alarm panel to the right of the door. The green light flashed.
“Who is it?” She leaned forward and put her hands on the door.
“Uh, I’m looking for Tori Baldwin.”
She peeked outside again. No, she definitely didn’t know him. She turned around, thinking it was a good idea to call Rain and tell him there was a stranger at the door.
The doorbell rang again. “Do I have the right place? I stopped in town and asked directions.”
She hurried back to the door and peered through the eyehole. Why would someone be asking about her?
“What’s your name?” she said.
He leaned closer and stared at the door. She flinched, forgetting the wood kept them apart. Could he see her?
“Ethan Cramwell.” He tilted his head. “I’m looking for my half sister, Tori Baldwin.”
Ethan? She stepped away from the door. She hadn’t seen him since she was young. The last time, she was only seven or eight years old, and he was practically an adult with a bad attitude. He’d made Mom cry and disappear into her room when he stormed out of the house.
“Can you tell me if I have the right house? It’s important that I talk with my sister. I’ve only recently found out she was in the area, and I’d like to catch up with her and explain a few things,” he said.
Afraid to trust a stranger, whether he was her brother or not, she asked, “What’s your mother’s name?”
“Barbara, but everyone called her BB.”
Oh, my God. It is Ethan.
She shut off the alarm. Her fingers shook, and she ran her hands down the front of her sweatshirt before unlocking the door. Curious why Ethan would search for her now, she turned the handle.
He raised his brows. “Tori?”
His blond hair, too long for how thin it was, hung in his face. She searched his eyes, trying to draw up anything familiar about him, and came up empty. His fingers fidgeted with the front of his shirt, distracting her.
The state had promised they’d contact him the night she’d lost her parents. She’d waited weeks, months, for him to claim her as family. But he never came.
She shouldn’t have expected him to come to her rescue. He’d thrown away any chance to contact her family when everyone was alive. Bitter about his parents’ divorce before she was even born, he’d used the breakup as ammunition against her mom any time she’d tried to make contact with him.
Alone and scared, and with her parents ripped from her, she’d yearned for anyone or anything to connect with. She would’ve even taken an estranged half brother over staying in foster care.
“I’m Tori.” She crossed her arms, not willing to throw herself into his arms just because he’d he found the guts to find her.
“Damn, it’s good to see you.” He rubbed his hands together. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah.” She swatted at a mosquito flying around her face.
“I know it’s late, but can we sit down and talk?” He hooked his hands on his back pockets. “I’ve thought of you a lot over the years.”
She glanced past him, spotted an older-style car, and motioned him inside. “Come in. The bugs will eat you alive out here in the woods after dark.”
Waiting until he walked inside, she shut the door and led him to the living room. “Take a seat. Do you want something to drink?”
He stood at the end of the couch. “No.”
The man she saw before her no longer had the cocky attitude she remembered. He seemed nervous, jittery, as if he wasn’t sure where to start or what to say.
“Okay.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Go ahead and sit down.”
She waited until he sat on the edge of the couch. Then she sat in the chair across from him. He leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands. She tucked her legs under her and stifled a yawn.
“This is surprising.” He gazed around the room. “You’ve done well in your life.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It’s my boyfriend’s house. My life hasn’t been this glamorous.”
“Oh, yeah?” He raised his brows. “Had to struggle, huh?”
She frowned, not liking the way he’d perked up over that bit of information. “You know, it’s late. My boyfriend will be getting home any minute, and he’s had a big day. Why don’t I meet you in town tomorrow, and we can have lunch? I’m sure Rain would like to meet you, too … before you leave.”
He stood. “You think this is funny?”
“Wh-what?” She shifted and put her feet on the floor.
“You … always living the good life.” He hocked and spit on the floor.
She gasped. “I think you should leave.”
“I ain’t going anywhere.” He laughed, the sound harsh and loud.
Scared and anxious, she sidestepped while keeping an eye on him. Fear constricted her muscles, leaving her clumsy and jerky. He swung his arm around, knocking the lamp off the end table. She jumped, backing away.
“Don’t you move.” He stalked toward her.
“Please, don’t … ” She raised her hands, lost in the length of Rain’s sweatshirt.
He fisted the front of her sweatshirt and pulled her across the room. Barefooted, she skittered across the hardwood floor, scrambling for traction. She pulled at his arm, but with her hands covered with the material, she failed to get away from him.
Ethan stopped, reached behind him, and pulled out a pistol. “Stop fighting me.”
She froze. “Please, just go. Rain will be here any second. You can leave, and he’ll never know.”
“You always were dumb.” He jabbed the barrel of the gun into her collarbone. “The baby Mom wanted. The baby that kept her away from me. Me!”
“No.” She shook her head. “Mom loved you.”
“Shut up.” He waved the gun. “You don’t know anything. You weren’t there. My dad loved Mom. It was your dad” — he rubbed his nose — “he ruined everything, and he killed her.”
God, she had to think quickly. Ethan was insane. She couldn’t have Rain coming home and confronting him. Ethan would shoot first, and she couldn’t let that happen.
“Y-yes he did.” Her knees buckled; the scar in her upper thigh burned. “Dad killed her.”
Ethan tugged her a few more feet and opened the front door. She lunged for the alarm panel and missed.
“Walk, or I’ll shoot you here.” He jabbed the gun into her shoulder. “It’ll give me another reason to stick around and take out your boyfriend, too.”
No! She clamped her lips together, not wanting to do anything that’d make Ethan stay and gun down Rain. She stepped off the porch, ignoring the sharp gravel poking the soles of her feet.
“Where are you taking me?” She bit into the sleeve of her free hand and pulled it up, giving her use of her fingers.
“Shut up.” He opened the car door and shoved her inside.
Her head hit the doorframe. Pain exploded in her forehead, and she covered her head with one hand as she scrambled across the seat, tried the door handle, and cowered in the corner when the door wouldn’t open.
She searched frantically around for anything she could use as a weapon. Ethan slid into the driver’s seat, reached behind, caught her by the hair, and shook her.
She screamed and fought him. He backhanded her, sending her bouncing off the seat. Before she could react, he’d leaned between the bucket seats and grabbed her arm.
“Try to fight now, little sister.” He snapped a pair of handcuffs on her wrist.
She jerked, hiding her other hand behind her back, trying to keep at least one arm free. “Please. Don’t. I won’t cause any trouble.”
“There once was a girl who was spoiled.” His voice took on a singsong quality. “She screamed and screamed as she got boiled.”
She recoiled against the seat, trying to get away from him. “You’re sick.”
“I’m sick?” he screamed. “You’re just like your father.”
She recoiled away from the spittle spraying out of his mouth. With her eyes closed, she wasn’t prepared for the punch that hit her right temple. A flash of pain and an attempt to yell for Rain, and the blackness took over.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Tired and fighting a headache, Rain parked his motorcycle behind the house and walked around to the front. Staying to confront Sanchez and Crystal at the party had failed.
Sanchez had disappeared, and because everyone in town had attended the Summer-Palooza, no one had seen where he went. He rolled the stiffness out of his shoulders. Jedman had also vanished with Crystal and wasn’t answering his phone, and that worried him.
Standing in his driveway, his chest tightened. He lifted his gaze, and his whole body seized. Fuck.
The front door hung wide open. Panic pushed him forward. He ran inside, yelling Tori’s name, flipping light switches on, and at the same time dialing Slade’s number.
Slade answered, and before he could say anything, Rain announced, “They’ve got Tori. Put the word out, and front riders come to my house.”
He never waited for a reply, but disconnected and called 911. He hung up as he entered the living room and found a broken lamp and a chair pushed over. “Where are you, babe?” he mumbled.
“Hello, 911. What is your emergency?”
“Someone broke into my house and kidnapped my girlfriend.” He cradled the phone against his ear, and sunk his other hand into his hair.
“Do you know where she’s at or who has her, sir?”
“How the fuck should I know?” He swung his arm. “Get the damn police over here, and find her. 7349 Honeybrook Lane. Send someone now.”
“I’ve already dispatched two officers, sir. If you’ll stay on the line — ”
He disconnected the call and shoved his phone in his pocket. The tightness in his chest he’d dealt with since the night the cabin was set on fire intensified, along with a rage unlike any he’d ever experienced.
He’d come home to apologize. The situation with Crystal and Sanchez had blown up before he could check himself. He’d acted out instead of being a man and making sure her world was still spinning. She’d gone through unnecessary pain because he let his fear take over. This was all his fault.
He stepped over the broken glass into the kitchen. The picture she’d taken of them last week and printed out hung on the fridge. He ran his finger over her upturned face on the photo. Without him knowing it, she’d become his everything.
She’d brought more into his life than he gave her. Even the evidence she’d left around the house. The napkin holder, the pink cups, the note on the counter. All the pictures …
They’d spent God knows how long figuring out how to preset the camera to automatically take pictures, and a helluva long time posing out on the deck overlooking the river until Tori captured the moment. He swallowed hard, letting his hand fall away from the photo. This was his favorite picture.
Tori leaned against his side, curled under his arm, her hand on his stomach. He gazed into her face, smiling at how goofy she acted, and how at that moment, she completed him. She wore her skimpy shorts and one of his T-shirts, the hem tied in a knot on her hip. One of her legs, slightly bent, hugged his thigh.
His arm lay over her shoulder, down her back, and the camera had caught him palming her ass. He was smiling in a way he hadn’t known he was capable of — open, pure, his emotions written all over his face. As if there were only the two of them in this world.
But it was the soft expression on her lips that made his heart skip a beat. He could almost swear she was inhaling his air.
The roar of motorcycles snapped him into action. He jogged to the door, holding his riders away from the crime scene until the police came.
Slade bounded up the steps first. “Boss?”
“I want the second group of riders out looking for Sanchez.” He held up his hand. “They call immediately if they find him. Tell ’em not to let him out of his sight, and if he has Tori don’t do a damn thing until I can get there. I don’t trust him, and he could be a couple of hours out toward Mexico by now.”
Slade nodded. “Ren, you got it?”
“On the phone now.” Renny lowered his head and continued speaking into the phone.
“Where’s Jedman?” He looked out at the twenty bikers.
“Here.” Jedman stepped up. “Name it.”
“I want you riding with me when we get word about Sanchez’s location.” He motioned toward the house. “Go in the house without disturbing the crime sc
ene, and bring back enough ammo for both of us. Hurry before the cops come, and make sure you stay out of the living room. I don’t want anyone fucking this up.”
“Right.” Jedman jumped the steps and disappeared into the house.
Two minutes later, Jedman returned with two pistols in holsters, extra clips, and Rain’s leather jacket. He stripped out of his vest, slipped the holster over his head, and let Torque secure the strap around his ribs. Then he braced his boot on the railing, pulled up the leg of his jeans, and fastened the strap onto his lower leg. One clip went in his back pocket, and three went in the pocket of his jacket.
His boot hit the porch at the same time two police rigs pulled behind the bikes in the driveway. He straightened, ready to let the officers do their job. The more time they wasted at the house, the longer Tori’s life was in danger.
Officer Bob Corbin led the way to the porch, followed by Keith Stellor. The members of Bantorus parted into two groups and let the officers approach the house. Rain zipped up his jacket. The less they knew about what he was going to do, the more they’d concentrate on where Tori had gone and who had taken her.
“Sent out an APB on Ms. Baldwin already.” Corbin stepped up on the porch. “Show me what we have.”
Rain took Corbin and Stellor into the living room. “Came home about twenty minutes ago to the door open and found this and Tori missing.”
Corbin glanced at him. “Was the alarm going off?”
“No.” He retraced his steps into the entryway. “The light’s red. It’s been shut off.”
“She knew the perpetrator and let him inside the house.” Stellor took a pair of latex gloves out of his pocket. “Nobody touch the door. I’ll get prints.”
“Do you know who she’d feel safe enough with to open the door?” Corbin studied the room. “Anyone who has taken a special interest in her lately, or you’ve seen around but has stayed back from making contact with her?”
He rubbed his chest through the opening of his jacket. “Raul Sanchez.”
