County Sheriffs 2: Conquering Lovers (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting)

by Becca Van

  “Call her.”

  “Who?” Bella asked hysterically.

  “The sheriffs’ woman. Call her and get her to come rescue you.”

  Bella shook her head. Cold sweat trickled down between her breasts, down between her shoulder blades and popped out on her brow and upper lip. She knew in that moment that this was the man who’d killed her sister and Misha’s best friend. She was sitting in her car with a psychopathic serial killer.

  “Call her. Now!” he demanded with a scream of rage.

  Bella didn’t have Misha’s cell phone number, but she knew the number to Clay, Spence, and Misha’s house phone. Only because it had been listed on the wall under the phone in Kent and Dawson’s house. Did she dare chance calling the sheriffs’ house, or should she call Kent or Dawson? The killer was already angry with her, and since she didn’t want him killing her right away, she decided to call Misha’s house.

  It took her several tries to get the right number since her fingers were trembling so much, but finally the phone began to ring.

  “Hello?” Clay answered.

  “It’s B-Bella.”

  “Hi, Bella, how are you?”

  “Is Misha there?”

  “Is something wrong, Bella?”

  “Misha wanted me to call her when I was leaving work.” Bella tightened her grip on the phone as she glanced at the masked man. The urge to reach over and rip that mask away was strong, but first she needed to somehow let Clay know she was in trouble. When she heard what sounded like fingers snapping, she hoped Clay had realized she was in danger.

  “Can you get Misha to meet me? She said she wanted to meet me after work tonight to discuss the barbecue on Saturday.”

  “Who has you, Bella? Is it Brett?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck. Okay, Spence is talking to Kent. He said to hold on. They already knew you were in trouble and are looking for you. Can you tell me which direction you’re headed?”

  “Meet me at the Bill Cody Ranch.” Bella screamed and moaned when a fist slammed into her ribs again. He snatched the phone from her and tossed it out of the open window. Her car began to slow. He released her seat belt from the clip, shoved his car door open, and then hauled her across the center console. She clutched at his wrists when she realized she was half-hanging out the open car door with the car still moving.

  “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His grip on the neck of her shirt tightened, and just as he shoved her out of the moving car, she reached for the mask. She dislodged it enough to reveal half his face, and then she was screaming as he managed to thrust the knife into her shoulder. The pain was excruciating. Her scream cut off when her lungs froze as if in sympathy to the agony she was in. A deep, guttural moan left her mouth, and then she felt herself falling. Her next scream cut off when she hit the hard asphalt. Bella tried to keep her body limp as she rolled, but every instinct had been to tense for impact. Her bleeding shoulder sent spikes of white-hot burning pain down her arm and up into her neck each time it hit the ground. She couldn’t even make a sound when she felt the bones in her ankle and wrist snap. She came to a stop just on the edge on the opposite side of the road, teetering for a moment or two, until she forced herself to use her muscles to roll away from the verge.

  Bella panted through the agony the movement had caused, and then she tried to shove to her feet. Darkness swirled around the brink of her mind and vision, but she pushed it back. When she could finally see, albeit blurrily, she started to sob with relief. She could no longer see her car or the man who’d killed Brett and just tried to kill her.

  She curled into a ball, her body still quivering and quaking, and cried. She cried with relief and because of the agony she was in, but the pain was good, because that meant she was still alive.

  * * * *

  He shouted curses and slammed his hand down onto the steering wheel. He should never have moved without having a plan, but the opportunity had been too good to pass up. Now he wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance to get the sheriffs’ woman and kill her.

  When he’d seen that bastard hassling the slut’s friend, he’d seen red. He’d never felt such anger in his life, and though he tried to work out why now of all times his feelings had returned, he couldn’t understand it.

  The tearing craving to get that bitch was making him impulsive, and because he was being so impetuous, he was ruining his chances to get the slut. After he got rid of the car and picked up his own where he’d parked it at the Pahaska Tepee Resort, he would head home to his nagging wife. Explaining away the scratches on his hand would be easy, especially after raking the back of his hand over a few nails to disguise the female’s fingernail gouges. His wife was so fucking dumb she believed everything he told her. Thankfully.

  If he hadn’t heard the timbre of a deep voice when she’d made the call, he might have ended up getting caught. Women were such fucking sluts. Always lying and using their bodies to get what they wanted.

  He was going to have to lay low for a few weeks, but he would spend that time plotting and planning. There was no way he could move on until the sheriffs’ woman died. Her being able to walk among the people of Cody was unconscionable. The only consolation was that he’d at least left a piece of himself in her friend. Each time she looked at the other woman, she would remember him.

  The rage and tension in his body began to wane, and he started humming the tune his mother used to sing to him whenever she’d touched him. When he’d been a child, he’d found that song grating, but now it soothed him. He settled back into the driver’s seat and relaxed.

  Everything would work out in the end because he would make sure he got what he wanted, needed. The sheriffs’ slut under him while he fucked her and sank the blade of his knife into her soft skin.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Hey, baby,” Dawson said as soon as he answered Bella’s call. He frowned when he heard her voice, but the phone was too far away for him to hear what she was saying. When he heard a man shouting, fear gripped hold of his heart.

  He and Kent had just walked in the door after arriving home from work, and he’d been looking forward to a beer after such a long grueling day working over the serial killer’s victims’ case files. All thoughts of beer flew from his mind, and he clicked his fingers to get Kent’s attention. Kent rushed across the room as Dawson put his cell onto speaker, but he muted his end so they couldn’t be heard.

  “Fuck!” Kent frowned when they heard the man yelling again.

  Sweat moistened Dawson’s skin when he heard someone vomiting, and his heart flipped when he heard Bella screaming. He snatched his car keys from the bench and ran from the house, Kent right on his heels.

  Kent tried to call Clay, but their boss didn’t answer. He dialed Spence next. Thankfully Spence answered on the first ring. “Bella’s in trouble.”

  “Yeah, she’s talking to Clay on the house phone. Hold on a sec,” Spence ordered.

  “What?” Kent yelled into the phone. “What’s going on?”

  Spence didn’t answer for a few moments. Dawson spun the wheels as he turned the corner, heading toward town and the Chamber of Commerce offices. He glanced over at Kent when his friend gasped. When he saw how tense and pale Kent was, Dawson knew that whatever was happening was very, very bad.

  “He’s got her,” Kent said in a hoarse voice.

  “Who?” Dawson bit out.

  “The serial killer.”

  Dawson gripped the steering wheel so hard it creaked and his knuckles hurt. He slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt as he tried to get his fear and rage under control.

  “Turn around. Spence said they’re headed toward the Pahaska Tepee Resort. Okay, thanks, Spence. See you soon.”

  Dawson pressed down hard on the gas pedal and turned the wheel, tires screeching, blue plumes of acrid smoke drifting into the air, and then he was speeding away from the center of Cody. Dawson’s heart was in his throat, and though he wanted to ask Kent questions, he couldn’t hav
e formed one word if his life depended on it. He sped along the road between Cody and the resort, scanning for another car’s taillights, but he saw nothing.

  What should have taken him thirty minutes took less than fifteen before he saw the sign to the Bill Cody Ranch turnoff in the distance. The road to the ranch was a blur in his peripheral vision, and he pressed harder on the accelerator.

  “Stop!” Kent yelled.

  Dawson slammed on the brakes, gripping the steering wheel hard as the car fishtailed until he came to a halt. He turned to meet Kent’s gaze, but his friend wasn’t looking at him. “Back up.”

  Dawson shifted into reverse, turned his gaze, and drove the car backward, waiting for another word from Kent. He had no idea why his friend had wanted him to stop, but he trusted him with his life and wasn’t about to start asking questions now.

  “Here.”

  Dawson pressed his foot to the brakes, and as soon as the car stopped, Kent jumped from the car and ran across the road. Dawson saw Bella lying on the verge to the incline on the road just as Kent fell to his knees beside her.

  He didn’t remember getting out of the car or moving toward Kent and Bella, but when he blinked, he was down on his knees beside her. Her face was swollen and bruised, and she was unconscious. His heart stopped beating when he saw copious amounts of blood on her shirt, face, and neck, and still running down her arm. A roar of grief and fury built up in his chest, ready to erupt from his mouth, but he swallowed it back down when he saw her chest rise, then fall as she took a breath.

  Dawson pushed his emotions aside and called upon the warrior he’d learned to be while serving with the Rangers. He gently ran his hands over her body, checking for broken bones while Kent called the paramedics. As soon as he touched her swollen ankle, he knew she’d broken a bone, and from the way her wrist was bent unnaturally, she’d broken that, too, but she was alive. He tore his shirt off, wadded it up, and pressed it firmly against her shoulder. He trembled when she didn’t react. Bella didn’t flinch or moan with pain as he pushed his shirt as hard as he could against her bleeding shoulder, but she was still breathing.

  “She’s alive. She’s breathing. She’s alive. She’s alive.”

  Kent reached over and gripped his shoulder, and it was only then he realized he’d been speaking out loud.

  “The paramedics should be here soon.”

  “She got away.” A sob tore up out of his chest, and he didn’t bother to hide his emotions from Kent. Kent had tears rolling down his face, and when he reached out to brush hair from Bella’s forehead, Kent’s hand was shaking.

  “She did,” Dawson said in a hoarse voice. “She’s going to be all right.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  Dawson turned when he heard a car coming. It was Clay, Spence, and Misha. They all got out of the car and rushed over. Misha was crying so hard she was stumbling, barely able to walk, even with Spence and Clay helping her.

  “None of this is your fault, baby. None of it,” Clay said emphatically.

  “He wanted me!” Misha wailed.

  Dawson saw the guilt in Misha’s eyes. Now that he knew Bella was going to survive, he was able to think more clearly. “Clay’s right, Misha. This wasn’t your doing.”

  “I know that in here.” Misha tapped her temple and then covered her mouth when another sob emitted from between her lips. She drew a deep breath and visibly got herself under control. “But I can’t quite believe it in here.” She tapped her chest, right over her heart.

  Kent rose and moved toward her. “Please don’t take possession of something that isn’t yours, Misha. You need to place the blame where it should be, at the feet of a sick, psychopathic serial killer.”

  Dawson sighed when Misha nodded with acceptance as she wiped the tears from her face.

  Cooper, Tanner, Jasmine, and the paramedics all arrived together. Just before the medics started toward Bella, Clay stopped them with a word. “Wait.”

  “What the hell, Clay?” Dawson asked angrily. “She needs help.”

  “Just give me a second.” Clay kneeled down next to Dawson, ignoring his angry glare. “Cooper, do you have a kit on you?”

  “Right here, boss.” Cooper hurried over and handed Clay a swab kit. Dawson clenched his teeth with impatience while Clay swabbed cotton swabs over Bella’s lips and cheeks, and then he lifted her hands with his own gloved fingers. “I need to scrape beneath her nails. I shouldn’t have to explain this to you, Dawson. You know the drill.”

  Dawson nodded, all the while trying to keep his breathing even and deep so that his impatient anger wouldn’t get a hold of him. As soon as Clay was done, he moved away to allow the paramedics to assess Bella. After making sure her broken wrist and ankle were splinted, they lifted her onto the portable gurney and wheeled her toward the ambulance. He glanced over to see Kent watching to make sure they were gentle with Bella.

  “You go with her,” Kent said. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  Dawson nodded and after tossing Kent his keys, he climbed into the back of the ambulance, ignoring one of the medic’s scowl as he took a seat off to the side so he wouldn’t get in the way. He had no idea what had been done to Bella, and he wouldn’t be able to breathe easily until she’d been examined by a doctor. He was worried that she could have internal bleeding, even if he hadn’t seen any evidence of it. He only had basic first aid, but she had bruises all over her body, and some of them were so dark they were almost black.

  As the ambulance sped toward the hospital, he prayed that Bella survived her injuries.

  * * * *

  The drive back to the hospital was the longest drive Kent had ever had to endure. He’d been a kid the last time he’d cried. Not even seeing fellow soldiers blown up or screaming in pain after taking a hit or stepping on a land mine had brought him to tears. He’d felt each and every injury his fellow soldiers had endured as if they were his own, and though tears of grief had burned his eyes as his comrades had been laid to rest, he hadn’t shed a single drop. Seeing Bella so beat up, bleeding all over the place and unconscious, was a moment in time he’d never forget even though he wished he could.

  An ache had formed over his heart, and though he’d wanted to rub the pain away, Bella’s injuries had been way more important than his anxiety. He’d hated moving away from her while the paramedics patched her up for the trip to the hospital, but he held his tongue and pushed his dissatisfaction away. For all he knew the medics could have been saving her life, and there was no way he’d interfere with that just because he was feeling needy.

  The second he hit the hospital parking lot, he drove as close to the entrance to the building as possible without hampering the emergency vehicles’ path and parked haphazardly before jumping from the truck and running inside.

  The moment he saw Dawson slumped against the wall with his head bowed was the second most terrifying moment of his life. How he managed to stumble forward to get to his friend, he had no clue. His whole body shivered with fear, his legs so weak they shouldn’t have been able to support him.

  He clasped Dawson’s shoulder in comfort and question, because his throat was so constricted there wasn’t a chance in hell he would be able to speak around the huge lump in his throat.

  When Dawson gave a slight shake of his head, Kent immediately thought the worst, and his knees buckled as grief and pain consumed him. There was a loud roaring in his ears, and he went down to the floor. If it weren’t for Dawson’s hard grip on his shoulder, Kent would have fallen apart. Finally, after what felt like hours, the roaring in his ears receded and he was able to hear what Dawson was saying.

  “She’s alive. They’re working on her. She’s going to be okay. They won’t let us in to see her until they’ve finished with her.”

  The constriction around his heart and in his chest and throat lessened enough for him to be able to talk, but it wouldn’t disappear until he set his eyes on Bella. “I love her so damn much, Dawson.”

  “I know. I do, t
oo.”

  “She’s going to need help while she recovers. With a busted ankle and wrist as well as the stab wound in her shoulder, she isn’t going to be able to move around too much.”

  Dawson nodded. “We’ll take care of her.”

  “What the fuck are we going to do when we’re on shift?”

  “I’m sure if we ask the others, they’ll help out. That’s one of the reasons we all bought the ranch together.”

  Kent sighed and nodded. He didn’t want the others taking care of Bella—he wanted to do it himself with Dawson at his side—but with a serial killer still on the loose, there was no way they could ask for time off.

  “Did Cooper, Tanner, and Jasmine go after him?” Dawson asked.

  “They did, but I haven’t heard anything yet.”

  “Let’s hope they catch this fucker before someone else dies. The hard-on he has for Misha worries me. We all need to talk and think about bringing in more security.”

  “We can discuss it with the other guys later.” Kent straightened when the doors to the emergency section opened. The doctor looked about the room, and when he saw Kent and Dawson, he headed in their direction. “How is she?”

  “She’s going to be fine. She had contusions over seventy percent of her body, a stab wound in her shoulder, as well as a broken wrist and ankle. The knife didn’t hit anything vital, and we’ve cleaned and stitched her up. The fractures aren’t serious and will heal. No surgery was required on either break, and we’ve splinted them with casts. She’ll be sore and need help getting around for the next few weeks, but she’s alive.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Kent said and offered his hand to the doctor.

  “You’re welcome.” The doctor shook Kent’s hand—and then Dawson’s after he thanked the doctor, too—before hurrying away.