Deadly Silence

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Perfect.

  She pushed open the dirty glass front entrance door to step out onto the main breezeway, then quickly made her way to room 4. She knocked. “Julie?” The door opened, and she slid inside to hug the small woman waiting for her.

  “Were you followed?” Julie asked, stepping away.

  Zara shook her head and leaned back against the door. The smell of rust and mold commingled around her, and she fought a sneeze. “No. I made sure.” She studied her friend. Julie was short and curvy, even though she’d lost so much weight lately. Her green eyes were subdued, and dark circles lined them. “You look terrible.”

  Julie tossed back dark curls and laughed, the sound a little hollow. “I feel like shit. This isn’t fair to you, and we have to stop it before you lose your job or worse.”

  “No. It’s fine.” Zara reached into her pocket. She’d been so sad when she and Julie had lost touch, ostensibly because of Jay, and now it was like they’d never been apart. “I have only two thousand left, but that should last you until the trial since you paid another retainer to your lawyer.”

  Julie eyed the cash. “I can’t take all of your savings.”

  Zara pressed the money into her friend’s hand. She’d been so focused on getting her degree and then building a stable life that she hadn’t had much time to make friends. Julie meant a lot to her, and they’d stay in touch for sure this time. “You can pay me back with your divorce settlement. No matter what, you’ll get something from Jay in the divorce.” She leaned in to study the fading bruise across Julie’s temple. “How’s the head?”

  “Better.”

  Zara rubbed her eye. Why did life end up so unfair for good people? “I still think you should go to the police and press charges.”

  Julie stepped back to sit on a dirty floral bedspread. “Why? It’s his word against mine. I have no medical reports, and I have no proof. You can’t even testify that you’ve seen him hit me or you’ll lose your job.” Julie remained matter-of-fact. “He’s smart, Zara. You know that. And he has the best lawyers in the West on retainer.”

  Zara winced and took in some cigarette burns along the top of the television. “I know. I work there.” It wasn’t her fault her firm represented Jay and his business assets. Her temples began to pound, but she held firm. Right was right, and she was helping her friend, no matter the cost. Julie had called her a month ago, nearly desperate since she’d escaped Jay, and Zara had instantly felt guilty for letting their friendship lapse because she’d been working so hard to establish herself at the firm. “I’m sorry I didn’t know how bad it had gotten.” It was almost textbook how Jay had isolated Julie from everyone.

  “I should’ve called you earlier,” Julie said, her small hands fluttering. “It’s my fault.”

  “No, it’s mine.” Especially since she’d introduced poor Julie to Jay years ago. What a mistake that day had turned out to be. “Things will get better as soon as the divorce goes through. Both sides have finished answering discovery. Your lawyer should amend to add an allegation of domestic violence.”

  “Why?” Julie frowned at the filthy-looking bedspread. “There’s no proof, and you know his family knows all the judges. I just want out, Zara. I just want the divorce to go through so I can go on my way.”

  Zara sighed, her heart aching for her once upbeat friend. “You could leave town.”

  “I will as soon as I finish the medical examinations to prove I’m competent.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe he’s alleging I’m mentally incompetent and I need a guardian.”

  Yeah, it was unfair, without doubt. Zara’s heart ached for her friend. “He’s convinced the lawyers at my firm that you have serious problems, and if I speak up, I won’t be able to help you.” She chewed on her lip. “I don’t know much about your lawyer, but I’m not sure he’s the best.”

  “I know, but he’s what I can afford. It’ll be okay. And he says I can leave town as soon as I prove I’m not nuts.” Julie smiled, but her lips trembled. “I owe you so much.”

  “We’re friends.” That summed it up. Julie was one of her few friends, and she should’ve done a better job. It hurt to see the bright, spunky woman so defeated, and Zara wanted nothing more than to protect her.

  When Zara had moved to Cisco after getting her degree eight years ago, Julie had instantly taken her under her wing and shown her around, drawing her into a singles Bunco group as well as the local Business Coalition for Women.

  How odd to have their positions reversed so completely.

  Julie looked at the bruise on Zara’s face. “I can’t believe he dared to hit you.”

  “He had nothing to lose.” Zara shrugged. “If I report him, I’ll have to admit that I’m assisting the opposition on a case taken by my firm. I’ll lose my entire career and never get to be a paralegal again. He knows that, which is why he hasn’t said anything, either.” The jerk thought he’d win, without doubt. She steeled her shoulders and glanced at her watch. “When is your examination with the shrink?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon. All I want is half the community property and the jewelry my grandmother left me, which he won’t turn over.” Julie looked down at her shaking hands. “And to start over. Just to start over. Maybe with real love this time.”

  “I agree. You have plenty of time,” Zara said.

  A small smile brightened Julie’s face. “Sometimes the right guy is just around the corner in an unexpected place, right?”

  Whoa. Zara shook her head. “You’re not actually interested in anybody, are you?” A rebound would be a huge mistake. She’d seen it happen with other clients, and Julie was so vulnerable right now. The woman needed to regain some strength and stand on her own for a while. Zara didn’t think Julie could take another painful experience.

  Julie paused, and her smile slid away. “No, but there are good men out in the world, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll find one.” Julie didn’t quite meet her eyes.

  Zara’s instincts were piqued. “You haven’t found one already, have you?”

  “No. But I would love to find a good guy. Jay and I made so many mistakes. Some of the things we did—”

  Zara frowned. “Did? What do you mean?”

  Julie looked up and tried to smile, but her lips seemed to tremble. “Nothing. We just tried some crazy things to keep our marriage fresh, and they were mistakes. Nothing you need to know about. Trust me.”

  Eesh. It sounded sexual, and she so did not want to go there. Her poor friend, having to feel ashamed of her own marriage. There should be freedom and trust no matter what in a marriage. “I do trust you. Just think twice before starting to date so soon. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Julie sighed. “I just want to be with somebody strong and good, you know? Someday.”

  Zara leaned down and hugged her friend. “You will, I promise. Right now I have to get back to work. I’ll let you know what his discovery answers are.”

  “Thank you.” Julie stood and returned the hug. “Be careful. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  Zara swallowed and nodded, slipping back outside. She had an idea of what Jay could do fading from her cheek right now. What a complete dick. She should let Ryker have a go at him, but that would screw up the case, and she couldn’t do that to Julie. Not right now, anyway. Plus, it was professionally unethical for Zara to even talk to Julie.

  She kept her head down and made it back to her car, then quickly drove out of the dismal lot. The motel was located outside of town in the middle of a mountain pass, perfect for lost and exhausted drivers, and during the day, it was deserted. Good thing. She carefully pulled onto the main road, and her shoulders began to relax.

  A country song crooned through the radio, and she began to sing along. The grade steepened, and she pressed on the brakes.

  Nothing happened.

  She frowned and pressed harder, the pedal finally reaching the floor.

  The car sped up, careening down the hil
lside on its own. Her eyes widened, and her heart beat faster. Her breath panted out. She pressed on the brakes.

  Nothing.

  She tried to focus and not give in to the fear. The brake pedal was useless. Gingerly, she twisted the key in the ignition, and it wouldn’t release.

  Her phone buzzed on the seat, and Ryker’s number came up. Ryker! Relief and hope hit her at once. Her knuckles turned white on the wheel, and she tried to hug the hillside. No cars were in front of her, but at some point, she’d be in trouble.

  The car continued to accelerate. Panicking, she pumped the brakes several times, trying to get them to engage.

  The phone buzzed again. She reached over and fumbled for the speaker. “Ryker? I’m in trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?” he asked, his voice steady.

  “I’m coming down Thompson’s Hill, and my brakes aren’t working. I’ve pumped them several times and nothing.” Her voice rose on the last words as she instinctively waited for him to help her.

  Quiet ticked by. “Is anybody in front of you?”

  “Not yet.” God, what should she do?

  “How’s the drop-off to your left?” His tone remained calm and focused.

  She glanced to the side and tried to follow his lead. “Steep and full of trees.”

  “Have you tried to free the key?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shove the car into park and then neutral really fast. Wait. Is your seat belt on?”

  She nodded and then remembered he couldn’t see her. “Yes,” she said.

  “Okay. Do it and prepare for a jolt.”

  She sucked in air, grabbed the shifter, and shoved the car into park and then neutral. Something clanked, the engine trilled, and then the car went dead. She angled the steering wheel into the hill, and it rolled forward, hitting a large pile of rocks along the shoulder, stopping with a crash. “Oh God.” Her heartbeat echoed loudly in her ears.

  “Zara?”

  She gulped. “I’m okay. The car stopped.” Silence descended on her, ominous and pounding. He’d been right. She’d turned to Ryker, and he’d known what to do. “Thank you.”

  “Stay in the car. I’m on my way.”

  * * *

  The wind blew through the open truck window. Ryker had moved quickly to take his Hummer, more than a little thankful his brothers had dragged it out of storage for him. Winter had arrived.

  Her brakes had stopped working?

  He’d told Zara nearly a month ago that she needed a new car. He’d offered to help pay if she didn’t have the funds for one…and of course, she’d rejected the offer immediately. But a newer car wouldn’t have shut off by pulling the key out, so maybe it was actually a blessing.

  If this wasn’t an accident…

  It had to be an accident. He planted his foot on the accelerator. The idea that she’d been in danger unfolded something inside him…something dark. He struggled to remain as calm as he’d tried to sound for her, but emotions, dark and angry, rose up in him. She could’ve been hurt, damn it.

  He was a master at compartmentalizing his life. Family—Denver and Heath—in box one. Jobs and clients in box two. The past in box three. Women in another box.

  But Zara. Something about her was different. A whisper inside his head, coming from deep down, hinted that she’d escaped her box. He’d loved two people in his life, Heath and Denver, and now Zara was right in his chest, mingled up with the emotions he’d never been able to sort out.

  The thought that anybody would try to harm her clenched his teeth and forced an energy to the surface he’d worked hard to banish. His chest burned, and the world widened until he couldn’t focus. He pounded his fist on the steering wheel.

  His hands shook, and he wanted to yell. Anger had ruled his life for too long, and he’d finally learned to control the rage when they’d escaped the boys home. He hadn’t had to fight his baser nature in years, but now, with the mere thought that Zara had been in danger, it rose closer to the surface.

  It almost erupted the second he rounded the next corner and saw her, pale and trembling, leaning against the hood of her shitty car. Mud coated her entire right side.

  He was out of the truck and barreling into her before he could take a breath.

  She lifted both hands to press against his chest. “Ryker?”

  “Why the hell are you out of the car?” he snapped, drawing her around the vehicle to put the rocky hillside at her back, holding her too roughly but unable to stop himself.

  She blinked. “What?”

  Jesus. She was just standing there, totally exposed.

  He sucked in air to yell and stopped himself just in time. Control. He needed control. So he blew out a breath, keeping a firm hold on her arm. Smells hit him first: Scrub grass, cattle in the distance, her perfume. The scent, too sweet, of fear. Sounds next: Her ragged breathing, her heartbeat, birds, wind, life. Nothing near. No presence.

  Even so, he took a moment to survey the area, not finding anything out of place. Then he eyed her, head to toe, his breathing leveling out. He forced himself to take several more calming breaths before he could speak evenly. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.” She pushed hair off her face, and her hands shook. “Nothing hurts. I looked around the car and fell in the stupid mud. I’m just in shock, I think.”

  He nodded. If she didn’t require medical attention, he needed to get her to safety in case this had been deliberate. “Okay, honey, get in the truck.”

  When she didn’t immediately move, he did, all but dragging her toward the H3 Alpha and lifting her into the driver’s side. “Scoot over, sweetheart.” He kept using endearments to calm her and to keep himself from freaking the hell out. His hands had started shaking again. Man, he needed to get himself under control. This wouldn’t do at all.

  She pushed across the seat, her eyes wide.

  He returned to her car, crouching down for a better view. Wet brush at the side of the road dampened the bottoms of his jeans. Scratches marred the right side and front bumper of the car from hitting the rocks. He punched the ground, hard, and pain lanced across his knuckles.

  Okay. One punch. That’s all he got.

  Brush blocked his view of the underside of the car, so he stood and grabbed her purse before striding back to the Hummer and jumping in.

  She leaned forward to look past him at her silent car. “I can’t leave my car here.”

  “I’ll have somebody come get it.” He’d call Denver on the way out. “I’ll take care of it.” Heat built up inside him, shoving against his sternum, making his arms tense with the need to hit something again and hard. Nope. One was all he got. Slowly, deliberately, he shifted the vehicle into drive, keeping a handle on himself with sheer will.

  Allowing Zara to see the real him, the asshole at his core, was not an option. Hell. She’d seen the asshole, but she hadn’t seen the monster—the one ruled by emotion and unable to think clearly to protect everyone.

  Anger ruled the monster, and Ryker ruled the anger, so he won. Every time he controlled his temper, he beat every bully who had ever tried to make him something else. Somebody else.

  He kept his grip light on the steering wheel, once again fully in control.

  This time.

  Chapter

  8

  Zara’s hands were still trembling as she followed Ryker up the stairs from an underground garage. She’d recognized his motorcycles but hadn’t before seen the black muscle car with shiny rims. They bypassed the first floor.

  “Our offices are here, and I’ll show them to you later,” Ryker said, his hand firm and warm around hers as he turned to take another set of stairs. The sense of protection and safety he provided tried to burrow into her heart and stay. He reached a landing and put his shoulder to a scratched metal door. The thing opened with a groan, looking beyond heavy.

  Her mind cleared as she looked around a spacious foyer, empty of furniture. Blue metal doors were set into each of its walls.

  “We
replaced the doors with something sturdier.” He strode across the black-tinted concrete floor to the door at the far right and opened it. “Though I should probably start locking this.” His hold on her gentled, and he drew her inside an apartment with a sprawling open floor plan. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the mountains in the distance while heavy metal beams were stationed throughout, no doubt as support. The kitchen was a cross between ultra-modern and stark, with stainless steel appliances, concrete counters, and empty white cupboards.

  She blinked at the bare living room. Sure, she’d spent a little bit of time wondering where he lived when he wasn’t in town. The room already smelled like him—male and strong. “I figured the bat cave would have more gadgets. Or at least a sofa.”

  He chuckled. “I guess we should start shopping.”

  We? She tugged her hand free. “Um, why do you suddenly have an apartment and offices?”

  “We need them for now.” He shut the door.

  Strung-out butterflies flapped their way through her abdomen. She scratched her arm. The mud had dried, and her entire right side felt sticky. “I don’t understand. What do you mean by ‘for now’?”

  For an answer, he dug her cell phone from her purse and handed it to her. “Call in sick for tomorrow.”

  She shook her head. He was taking over, and a part of her—one she didn’t much like—was tempted to let him. But how many times had she seen her mother give up control to a man, seeking some sort of security, only to lose everything? Was the need to rely on a strong man a weakness for all women or just the women in her family? She could handle her own life and ignore those unreliable needs. “I can’t call in sick. Too much work.”

  He studied her with no expression on his rugged face. “You need cover until we double-check your car and see why the brakes stopped working. Either you stay here or I spend tomorrow at your office. Your choice.”

  That didn’t sound like much of a choice, now, did it? Yet curiosity, the burning kind, had her looking around the apartment again. He intrigued her in a way she couldn’t understand. “Who lives behind the other blue doors?”