by V. A. Dold
“I’m beyond thrilled to have him back, but he’s full of energy. Having the kids around to tire him out will be a blessing.”
Joe dried his hands and called to the kids. “Time for bed. Say good night to Tug and get your pajamas on. And don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
“Ah, Dad,” Troy whined.
“Can Tug sleep over?” Tracy asked as she hugged the dog around the neck.
Joe smiled but shook his head. “Sorry, peanut. Tug has a home. You can see him tomorrow after your chores are done.”
Tracy’s smile fell. “Okay.” Then she glanced at Carol and asked shyly, “Can Miss Carol tuck me in?
Carol looked at Joe before she answered. He gave her a smile and nodded. “Sure I can. Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll come to your room.”
Every night after that, Carol ate dinner with the family and helped tuck the kids into bed. Some nights they ate at her house and others at Joe’s. Not a day passed when she wasn’t with him and the kids. She was rapidly becoming a member of the family.
Three weeks later…
It was a beautiful morning for a ride. Joe had said he was busy this morning and the kids were off exploring with Tug. Which was fine with her. She could use a little alone time to de-stress. Carol grabbed her cowgirl hat and headed for the barn.
Both she and Joe had received several more threatening notes, and Joe’s truck had been keyed. Lucas had all of the ranch hands watching for suspicious characters, and Sheriff Dansby was doing everything he could. Yet, somehow their stalker managed to remain at large.
Whistling, she walked into the cool interior of the barn and paused. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and smiled. She loved the combined smells of leather, straw, and horses. Whistling again, she headed for the tack room.
Carol was lifting the bridle from its hook when she heard a loud creaking sound as if the barn doors had closed. That was odd. Roy always kept the doors open during the day. Come to think of it, where was Roy?
Making her way back to Oreo’s box stall she frowned at the barn doors. The building was gloomy with the doors closed. Dust motes swirled in the sunbeams filtering through the four small windows high on the wall. There was barely adequate light to see by. She paused and allowed her eyes to adapt before she continued toward her horse’s stall. It was fairly windy today. They must have blown shut. She would prop them open again before she mounted up.
She hung the bridle on the hook beside the stall door and slid the heavy wooden door open. She was two steps into the stall when a hand clamped over her mouth and yanked her backward. Oreo whinnied and danced to the far corner. She tossed her head and snorted, nostrils flaring.
Carol dug in her heels and wriggled her shoulders, trying to twist free, but she was held tightly in place. She jammed her right elbow into her attacker’s ribs, with little effect. Whoever this was had a surprise coming. There was no way she would go down without a fight. She reached over her shoulder and tried to grab his face or hair while she struggled against the arm that wrapped around her left arm and middle, and tried to scream, but only a muffled sound came out. Panting through her nose, she smelled a cheap aftershave she remembered from her youth. Larry’s aftershave.
Panic held her frozen, unable to react or move. Images of Larry holding her down and forcing himself on her flashed through her mind. No! Not again. This couldn’t be happening again.
She was through being a victim. She was no longer a helpless child. With that thought, she was able to function again. She wriggled and put all of her weight into breaking his hold.
“I’ve waited a long time to get revenge, Carol.” He snarled into her ear. “You owe me twenty years of my life. I figure making you my personal sex slave for the next twenty years will pay that debt. I’ll have you any way I want you, over and over.”
She shuddered at his touch and her stomach heaved.
She felt his body shiver, and his breath became labored as he rubbed his erection against her backside. “You like that idea, I can tell.”
“Oh, Hell no!” she growled, and lashed out with the heel of her boot, connecting with his shin.
Larry’s hot, rancid breath rushed across her neck in a grunt of pain.
She kicked him over and over until he loosened his hold enough that she was able to slam the back of her head into his face. She put as much force as possible into the blow.
“You’ll pay for that,” he yelled and pushed her away.
The sudden release caused her to stumble forward. Oreo skittered sideways, knocking Larry from the stall.
“Fucking, bitch,” he groaned as he cupped his broken nose. “I’m going to kill that damn horse, too.”
Carol slipped from the stall, pressing her back against the rough boards. She sidestepped past Larry and ran as fast as she could.
Slipping and sliding on the flakes of straw strewn across the floor, she skidded to a stop. She grabbed the door with both hands and yanked. It rocked slightly, but only opened about a half inch. A broom ran through the handles, and a board had been jammed underneath. She kicked the board away and yanked the broom free.
Suddenly, she was falling backward. Pain radiated through her scalp as a hand brutally gripped her hair and threw her to the floor. She skittered back as he tossed the clump of hair he’d ripped from her scalp and advanced on her. Something warm and sticky trickled down the back of her neck. She smelled blood and knew it was her own.
“That’s right, crawl like the bitch you are.”
Carol shot a glance at the door. “Help! Someone help me!”
Larry laughed and sneered evilly. “No one’s going to help you. There’s no one to hear your screams.”
“Roy will. He’s always around.”
Larry stalked closer shaking his head. “I took care of him hours ago. He was way too easy. No fun at all. Not nearly as much fun as I’m going to have with you.” His hand shot toward her and grabbed the front of her shirt, jerking her to her feet and ripping half the buttons off.
She’d been expecting him to either pin her to the floor or pull her up, so she’d positioned her hands and feet to be ready for either.
Larry leered at her gaping shirt and licked his lips.
Carol took advantage of his lack of attention and flexed her wrist. Then she pulled her arm back, stepped up to him, and jammed the heel of her hand up under his chin. She ignored the pain radiating through her arm. She wasn’t done yet. There was time to cry about the aches and pains later. Before he could retaliate, she punched him in the Adam’s apple.
Larry choked and sputtered, his eyes wide with shock.
She sneered at the piece of shit, never taking her eyes off him as she moved a step closer to the wall. “That’s right, Larry. This little girl from twenty years ago has learned a few moves. I won’t be as easy to brutalize this time.”
She snatched a hoof pic from the assortment of tools. Clutching the weapon at her side, she waited for his attack, her other hand opening and closing in angry energy.
Gasping, Larry croaked. “You’re no match for me, Carol. And there’s no way you’re getting away from me this time. Not alive anyway.”
She didn’t have to test the tip of the pic, she knew Roy kept all the tools in the barn sharp. She stepped left, circling to keep Larry in front of her. Waiting. He would step forward with his right foot when he made his move. She remembered from her childhood that he always led with his right foot.
Larry lunged, and she struck out with the pic. The honed point sliced through his shirt and cut a deep slash across his chest like a hot knife through butter. She raised her arm again and buried it to the bone in his forearm.
He screamed and tore at the weapon, causing even more damage as he ripped it out.
Carol didn’t give him a second to recover. When he glanced from his bloody arm to her eyes, she struck again. The shovel she held crashed into the left side of his head. A loud crack rang out as the handle broke in half. The vibration from the imp
act rushed up her arms.
Larry was between her and the barn doors. The only other way out that she could think of were the doors at the end of the hayloft. She tossed the broken handle and ran for the ladder. If she could get up to the loft before he came after her, she could pull the ladder up and he wouldn't be able to follow.
She threw herself at the ladder and started to climb. She didn’t get to the fourth rung before bony fingers clamped around her ankle like a vice.
She tried to ram his face with the foot he held, but he twisted to the side. That was when she spotted the metal bucket hanging on the wall beside her. She grabbed it and started swinging. With each impact, the pail became more and more misshapen.
Larry held on, ducking as best he could, but her bucket found purchase more often than not. In the end, he let go. She dropped the bucket and skittered up the ladder.
As she stepped off the top rung, she tripped over something in the darkened space. Spitting hay, she pushed herself to her knees. A shriek bubbled up from her throat as she came face to face with Roy’s cold dead eyes. His mouth gaped open in a silent scream, and the front of his shirt was stained dark with his blood.
The hoarse rasp of Larry’s heaving lungs was loud in the quiet of the loft. “Like I said, he was much too easy.”
The sight of Roy’s dead body had caused her to hesitate. There was no way to get to the doors before he caught her. She scrambled to her feet and cast around for a weapon, but came up empty.
Larry advanced, and she backed away, never letting him gain ground. He lunged forward, and she jumped back into empty space. Time slowed to a crawl as she fell. Arms cartwheeling, she was helpless to prevent the impact coming.
Gasping for breath, Carol tried to suck air into her lungs. The few inches of straw she’d landed on did little to soften the crash. Carefully, she moved her arms and legs. Nothing felt broken except her lungs.
Lying on her back, she pushed herself up with her forearms. Before she could rise further, Larry landed on her chest, forcing the little bit of air she’d drawn out.
His tongue invaded her mouth. She tried to turn her face away, but he had the advantage of weight and position. When she felt his hand go for her pants, her stomach heaved, and she threw up in his mouth.
Larry pushed away from her, gagging and spitting. The smell of vomit swirled thickly in the air. He knelt on his hands and knees, retching.
Carol took advantage of his incapacitation and snatched a coiled lasso from the wall. She had it wrapped twice around his neck before he could stop her.
With her foot planted in the middle of his back, she shoved him to the floor.
He twisted and turned, trying to throw her off and loosen the rope. But she put her weight into it and pulled the noose tight. She held on like a bareback rider going the full eight seconds. When he went limp, she dropped the ends of the rope and ran for the barn doors.
She hadn’t choked him to the point of death, just long enough to knock him out. At least she prayed that was what she’d done. She hadn’t wasted precious seconds to check for a pulse. It was either escape or die, and she had no intention of dying.
She was almost to the doors when her arm was grabbed in a bruising grip.
“You’re such a stupid woman. You can’t even tell when someone’s faking it.”
Without a weapon to fight with, she raked at his fingers with her nails.
“It’s time you learned your place.” He threw her to the floor hard and went for his belt.
Suddenly, the barn doors opened and Tug ran in, followed closely by Tracy.
The dog raced to her and licked her face unaware of the situation he’d entered.
She pushed Tug back and got to her feet. Her legs shook with exhaustion, but she wouldn’t give up, not ever.
Larry grabbed Tracy and pulled her to him. He held her in front of him like a shield. Leering at Carol, he leaned down and licked Tracy’s neck. “Should I teach her how to be a woman like I did with you?”
Carol took hold of Tugs collar and snarled. “Let her go, or die.”
Larry laughed and kissed Tracy’s cheek.
Carol looked pointedly into Tracy’s terrified eyes. Then she looked at Tug and back at the little girl. Using the smallest of movements, she nodded to the right, silently telling the child to go to her left. She released the dog’s collar and gave him the signal to attack. She was terrified for her dog’s safety, but he was trained for this and was her best chance of getting Tracy out of the barn unharmed.
She watched the dog launch his body at the man as Tracy fell to the left. Tug knocked Larry to the ground and latched onto his injured right arm. Tracy struggled to her feet and ran out the door.
Her dog yanked and thrashed his head back and forth, ripping and tearing Larry’s arm to shreds. She’d never heard such fierce growls come from her beloved pet.
Larry struck out, hitting Tugs muzzle over and over.
Tug loosened his grip on Larry’s arm and latched onto his leg. He destroyed Larry’s jeans and tore the muscle from his thigh.
Carol’s triumph was short lived. Larry pulled a knife she hadn’t known he had and stabbed Tug repeatedly in the stomach and neck. Her dog yelped in pain and lay silently on his side. Blood ran from his wounds coating his fur and she couldn’t tell if he was breathing.
A wail rose from the depths of her soul. “NO!”
Instinct and fury took over. She grabbed a pitchfork and ran at Larry who was still down.
Her booted foot slammed into his rib cage, and satisfaction rose when the bones gave way.
She raised the pitchfork high, aiming for his neck. “Die, you evil mother fucker,” she yelled.
“Carol! No. Don’t do it,” Joe shouted as he barreled through the door.
She didn’t look away from Larry’s bulging eyes or lower the weapon. “He killed Tug, attacked me, and threatened Tracy. He deserves to die.”
“You’re right, he deserves it. But I don’t want to spend the next couple of decades visiting you in prison,” Joe said quietly. He gently laid a hand on her raised arm. “Let the law take care of him.”
Lucas rushed through the door and slid to a halt, Kensie right behind him. “Shit. That’s the guy Krystal warned me about. He checked in shortly after Carol arrived. I should have watched him closer.”
Kensie stared opened mouthed at Larry and then glanced at Lucas. “You did watch him. I thought you were going to run him off the way you kept tabs on him. How the hell did he get away with everything and not get caught?”
Lucas shook his head. “Beats me.”
“Lucas, could you get a rope? Kensie, would you please call Sheriff Dansby?” Joe ignored their speculation and continued to look Carol in the eye as he gave instructions.
His ability to remain calm slowly brought Carol back to reasonable thinking. She was more rational, but there was no way she would lower the pitchfork until Lucas and Joe had Larry’s hands tied and he was under their control.
Kensie ran back into the barn, breathing heavily. Hank, one of the ranch hands was alongside her. “The sheriff is on his way.”
Trembling with a multitude of conflicting emotions and exhaustion, she sank to her knees next to Tug. Her hands shook as she reached for his prone body. Then she stopped short. Had his chest risen? Was he still alive?
“Tug?” she sobbed and gently ran a hand over him. She was positive she saw his chest rise again. “He’s alive! Joe, help me get him to the car. I need to get him to the vet.”
Lucas shook his head. “There isn’t time to get him to town. Let Kensie see to him. If Tug can be saved, she’ll do it.”
Kensie knelt next to her. “May I, Carol?”
She sobbed but nodded through the tears.
“Hank, would you carefully carry Tug to the dining hall?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He cradled Tug to his chest and headed out the door with Kensie.
Carol started to follow them, but Lucas brought her up short. “Carol, sweetie,
you need to stay here and give the sheriff a statement. Kensie will take very good care of Tug, and you can see to him after the Sheriff leaves.”
She was too numb to argue, so she nodded and sank to the floor.
She heard Lucas whispering to Joe but didn’t listen to the words. A moment later, Joe sat beside her and pulled her onto his lap.
Chapter 10
Joe rubbed soothing circles on her back and held her tightly. “Are you hurt, sweetheart? I can see blood, but I can’t find a wound.”
She sniffled and shook her head. “Not really. He pulled a chunk of hair out, but for the most part, he didn’t hurt me. He wasn’t trying to kill me. He wanted to kidnap me and make me his sex slave. He said I owed him twenty years.” Then she raised her head and gasped. “Roy! He killed Roy.”
She watched Joe and Lucas share a look.
Larry narrowed his eyes and glared at her.
“He’s in the hayloft. I think Larry stabbed him.”
“Excuse me, honey. But I should go check on Roy.”
Joe held onto her as she struggled to stand. Then he got to his feet and hesitated, looking from her to the loft. “I’m okay, Joe. Go check on him. Maybe I’m wrong, and he’s only injured.”
She wrung her hands, watching for Joe to come down the ladder. She knew from the expression on his face, she’d been right. Roy was gone.
He took her into his arms and stood quietly as she wept. “I would bring him down, but the sheriff will want to bring in forensics before the crime scene is disturbed.”
“It’s all my fault,” she hiccupped. “Larry came here because of me. Roy is dead because of me.”
“No, sweetheart. This is all Larry’s fault. You’re not responsible for his actions.”
A few minutes later, they heard a siren and saw flashing lights bouncing off the walls outside the open barn doors.
“Sheriff,” Lucas said in greeting as Doug came through the door.
“I take it, this is your stalker?” he asked looking from Larry to Joe and Carol.
