Authors: Devon McKay
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Westerns, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Western, #Family Life/Oriented
Fire.
He stopped pacing and returned to a kneeled position in front of her; his breath reeked of alcohol. She fought against the spinning room, focusing on his dark stare, now the color of cold steel. Strange, she had never noticed his eyes changed color, favoring the less ominous, baby blue shade.
Jessie managed to lift herself to her feet as she heard a faint chuckle from the man she’d thought she knew. She raised her hands in front of her to prevent another attack and was yanked forward by the knotted twine binding her wrists. Numbly, she stared at the rope, her thoughts muddied and confused. Why would he tie her up?
A terrifying concept stabbed through her like a sharp icepick. Her head snapped up, and she gazed into his evil stare. Was this was all part of the plan?
****
Doyle was right, Nate thought as he raced through the night to get back home. He needed to get back to Jessie, to his kids. He needed to go home.
Home
.
Nate smiled, loving the way it sounded. For the past few months it
had
been home. The place where he belonged, and he didn’t realize how much he missed the ranch until he spent the last four weeks away from it. Why had he wasted so much of his life running away from there?
The thought wrenched his insides. He didn’t have a good answer. Jessie was never going to forgive him. Not with a rehearsed speech. He would have to be completely honest with her.
He was stupid to have ever left her side. And even though he left this time for Doyle’s sake, it didn’t excuse the fact he hadn’t told her himself. She was his life, and not spending the rest of that life with her and the kids...well, it was unthinkable.
He reached down to his jean pocket, feeling the distinct square outline of the small box. The thought of asking her to be his wife had been the one thing keeping him going for the past few weeks.
His wife.
The concept still floored him, taking his breath away. This was so far out of his comfort zone, he didn’t know what to think. It would be even more foreign to Jessie.
If
she even let him get close enough to ask her.
Doyle’s words echoed in his head.
Jessie won’t wait forever.
Those four words put everything into perspective, into a whole new light. And he was right.
Jessie wouldn’t wait forever for him to grow up, to come to his senses, to figure it all out.
She
already had. The painful truth ate at his guts, burning his stomach. She’d figured it out years ago. He was the fool who had wasted their time, so caught up in self-pity, believing he deserved such bitter anguish.
Well, he was determined to change that. If she gave him one more chance, he would change everything.
The cool chill of the night air brought forth a clarity he had never experienced before. His father’s picture flashed through his head. A picture was worth a thousand words. This one certainly was. It had gotten to him, impaled him with the blatant insight of the photo. His father had even finally discovered the same truth. In the end, the only thing important was family. If only the concept would have come to him while his father was still alive.
Nate sped up, knowing despite his hurry, he needed to take it easy on the roads. The temperature was much cooler at night than earlier. He could easily hit a patch of black ice. Black ice? What was he thinking driving his motorcycle home in this kind of weather?
He wasn’t thinking. As a matter of fact, his focus was on Jessie and the need to see her.
A sudden urgency overtook him.
Maybe it was just the combination of everything that had happened. They’d been through a lot. In all of his years of ranching, he’d never been in a stampede. Cattle were easily spooked, but where had the snakes come from?
And they still hadn’t figured out what started the barn fire. Not to mention the truck running him off the road. And he should’ve delved deeper into the dead steers she had accused him of killing. His heart skipped a beat before pounding in his head, unable to shake the feeling something was wrong.
Reckless, he sped, a cowboy on the run, pushing the bike harder, hitting full throttle, needing to go faster, to get to her sooner than possible. The landscape passed by in a blur of dark shapes, his focus the twenty feet of black pavement in front of his lights.
Chapter 30
“Wh-what are you going to do with me?” Jessie, using every ounce of her strength, raised her head long enough to ask Alan the question. The effort was excruciating. Not wanting to show weakness, she tilted her chin. After a moment, the strain was too much, and she closed her eyes in pain.
Her head throbbed in agony, and she paid dearly with every breath she took. Silently, she prayed, wishing she could get past the screaming headache. Perhaps then she could think straight, get herself out of this predicament.
Alan released a shrill sound that bounced off the walls.
Laughter?
It hit her from every angle.
“
Do
with you?” he repeated, every word sounding amplified. “I hadn’t thought past locking you in here with me. I guess I could always have my way with you,” he said, his words slurred and hard to understand.
The heat of his fingers burned through the thin lace of her bra, and she snapped open her eyes. Revolted, she squirmed beneath his touch as he freed her breast, kneading the delicate skin with a clumsy touch. Alan grasped the tender flesh in a tight pinch and squeezed. Despite her resolves, she gasped in pain.
He was inches away from her face, intoxicating her with the foul stench of his breath. His mouth formed a devious smile as he continued to prod her, provoking another yelp of pain.
Jessie closed her eyes again, pledging not to give him any more of a response, no matter what else he did. Losing the energy to fight, she succumbed to the weakness flooding her veins and allowed the strange numbness to take over. It was taking every bit of energy she could muster just to stand, thankful the wall helped to keep her upright. Legs shaky and knees weak, she struggled against the urge to lie down.
Jessie thought of her kids, and held onto a slight hope she would even see Nate again.
The promise of blackness beckoned, and she battled against its powerful pull as her world became swallowed up by the murky edges circling in. A painful sting on her cheek brought her back and her eyes flew open in shock.
“Oh, no, Jessie. I can’t let you fall asleep.”
Alan swung his arm and she felt the burn of his hand on her cheek again, this time a little harder than before. Had she fallen asleep? Jessie attempted to clear the black fog in her head, closing her eyes to his leering face.
Jessie had to get herself out of this situation; she refused to let this man stop her from ever seeing her kids again. Her mind worked overtime searching for a way out of this dilemma. The tell-tale squeak of his tennis shoes told her he had started pacing.
Jessie opened her eyes to narrow slits. In between swallowing large gulps of whiskey straight from the bottle, Alan mumbled words not quite audible, his face set in grim determination. All a strange sight. She had never seen the man drink a drop of alcohol before.
It appeared as if he were fighting within himself, and her mind began to spin. He was stronger, but was he mentally sane right now? It didn’t appear so. Could she outwit him? Her muddled thoughts raced, searching for ideas.
Jessie fumbled for the perfect thing to say, planning to avoid anything about being a daddy for her kids. That had triggered him for some reason, and she briefly wondered why.
Was it because Nate was the father of her children? Or did Alan have something against his own father? By all outward appearances, he and Ed had the perfect relationship. Jessie knew the bar owner was demanding of Alan, but she’d assumed it was because he wanted his son to run the Lucky Horseshoe someday.
Alan’s mother had passed away last year, which happened to be one of the reasons he’d come home. Had there been more she knew nothing about? Her brain began overanalyzing.
She carefully studied Alan. Even though she’d worked with him for over a year now, she knew so little about him, only that he had left college to return home to help with the bar. Was he resentful of that?
“What was college like?” she asked, her voice nothing more than a shaky whisper. “Do you miss it?” Jessie tried to appear as if she were concerned in order to buy a little time. “I’ll bet it was interesting.”
Alan stopped pacing, a bottle of whiskey stilled in midair halfway to his mouth.
“College?” A shadow passed over his face. “College was a joke,” He sneered. “I didn’t even lay a hand on the girl.”
A scowl transformed his boy next door looks into one of a monster.
He took an intimidating step toward her and then stopped, studying her face for a full minute, before he began to pace again. “What did you hear? That I hurt her? I didn’t touch her. They have no proof.”
Stunned, Jessie said nothing more, trying to digest this new information. His confession had been the last thing she’d expected him to say.
She struggled to put the pieces together, but her head was spongy. With fuzzy thoughts she tried a different route. “Your father is going to wonder what is taking you so long to close up.”
“My father is dead to the world right now,” he snarled.
Jessie feared his words might hold two meanings.
“Besides, I closed early remember? It gives me plenty of time to cover my ass.”
What did that mean? She faltered, the truth in his words cutting through the fog in her head. She couldn’t count on Ed to save her, or anyone else. She was truly on her own.
“Y-you’re right,” she admitted. “Ed knows how capable you are. He is very proud of you.”
He stopped to consider her words for a minute before starting his pace again and mumbling something under his breath.
After a few brisk steps, he turned, hostility set on his features. “You have no idea how proud my daddy is of me. No idea!”
He threw the almost empty bottle down at her feet. The sound of glass breaking echoed in the room. Several shards hit her pants leg and a strong, pungent odor burned her nostrils.
Jessie eyed a deadly looking piece of broken glass by her foot. If she could distract him long enough, perhaps she could use it as a weapon.
“You’re right again,” Jessie said in a consoling tone, the same voice she used to soothe away Jade or Gage’s hurts. When he cocked a blond eyebrow, she smiled as sweet as could be managed and continued. “You’re right. I have no idea,” she said, placating him with her motherly tone. “Do you think you can loosen this twine on my wrists? Just a little bit...please? It’s so tight, and my fingers are starting to tingle.” Jessie held her hands out toward him. “Besides, I want you to kiss me again,” she said. As repugnant as the thought was, it was the only thing she could think of to lure him closer.
He took a menacing step toward her, and for a minute, she thought he would try to kiss her again. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest, the loud pounding like thunder in her ears.
Jessie swooped down and retrieved the glass. The sharp fragment cut into the padded part of her palm and fingers, but she held firm, ignoring the sting. Holding the weapon in front of her like a prison yard shank, she kept him at bay, jabbing the dagger toward him when he got too close.
They circled as she eased toward the door. The blade, slick with her blood, slipped in her grip. She spared a quick glance at the weapon, realizing her mistake too late.
Alan lunged, grabbing her arm in mid-air. Clutching her wrist, he clenched tightly. Jessie refused to let go of the lifeline, although she could no longer feel her fingers. A superior grin flashed across his features, igniting a spark of fury inside her.
Using his hold on her, she pulled him closer and kneed him in the groin with as much strength as she could muster. Immediately, his grip faltered, and she sliced at the air, making contact with the fleshy part of his cheek.
Alan released a surprised shriek, folding over in pain. She took advantage of his distraction, sawing through the twine, needing the use of her hands to defend herself. It took several attempts, the make shift knife slippery and hard to hold, but the rope loosened and finally gave way.
Alan recovered at the same time and faced her. The rage in his stare was undeniable. He reached up, brushing at his cheek nonchalantly as if his wound were merely a fly bothering him. The minute he brought down his hand and saw blood, he released an angry wail and lunged again.
The hit leveled Jessie to the floor. Her elbows braced her fall, and she landed on her backside with an agonizing jar, but she refused to register the pain.
Before he could get up, she scrambled toward the cooler and opened the heavy freezer door. It was her only chance, knowing there wouldn’t be enough time to unlock the storeroom door leading to the bar. She managed to slip through, barely able to close it behind her before he slammed into the metal from the other side.
Using all of her weight, she held the door, but it was difficult with him overpowering her by a good seventy-five pounds. Before he could hit the door again, Jessie slid a heavy case of beer in front and positioned her weight on top, her back against the entrance.
She vibrated from his attack as he hit the door again with such force Jessie knew she’d be unable to hold him off much longer. A glance behind her gauged the dim-lit distance to the door leading out to the bar. A good six feet away, but if the gods were with her, she could reach the other side before he made it into the cooler.
Or not
, Jessie feared, aware the possibility of her not getting to the door was a more feasible reality.
It didn’t matter. She was out of options.
Taking a deep breath, she raced to the door. Halfway there, she tripped over something in the aisle way. A scream escaped her before her knees scraped against the cold, concrete floor, and her head hit the other door, the impact hard and unforgiving.
Through a blinding burst of white lights, Jessie raised herself off the floor, fumbling for the door lock. She was a mere second away from unlocking the door when an arm tightened around her neck.