Heated (14 page)

The sound of feet pressed to grass echoed behind her and Bianca felt her first rush of fear.
Oh God, no. There’s two of them
. Before she could turn her head to look over her shoulder she felt a sharp object brought roughly down upon the back of her head.

Her grasp around his neck slackened and she felt her limp body roughly rolled over into the grass as he rose. Her eyes felt heavy—too heavy to open—and she couldn’t muster the will to cry as she felt herself spiraling into a dark abyss where even her pain and gripping fear didn’t register.

Kahron finished throwing a change of clothes in a duffel bag, walking into his bathroom to grab his grooming products. Once that was done, he walked out of his bedroom with the bag and dropped it by the door. He was ready for Bianca to pick him up.

He smiled as he thought of her excitement over her first night in a townhouse—although beautiful and stylish—that was less than a third the size of her home in Atlanta.

That was Bianca. There was nothing pretentious about her, and that was one of the many facets of her
characters that he loved—liked… liked a lot.

Okay, loved. Yes, he loved Bianca.

Kahron’s smile broadened at that thought. He welcomed it. Cherished it. Of course, with time the love would deepen and ripen, but yes, the seed had been planted in his heart.

He went into the kitchen to check on the chili Garcelle left for dinner. He and Bianca would eat here and then head to Walterboro. He turned the pot off as the food steamed when he lifted the top.

Kahron glanced down at his watch, moving to his living room to flip absentmindedly through the channels. Hershey’s head lifted at the sight of him and she moved to stand beside him. “Hey girl, “he said, scratching her shiny coat as he settled on the large comfortable sofa with a yawn.

Three hours later he awoke with a start. Even Hershey slept on the floor beside him. Kahron wiped his mouth with his hands as he moved to sit up. He frowned at the time.
Where is she?

He reached for his phone and tried her cell number twice before hanging up. Then he tried the house number.

“Hello.”

“Trishon, is Bianca there?” he asked, pressing the

mute button on the remote to silence the television.

“Fuck you.” She hung up.

Kahron grabbed his keys and left the house.

Bianca had no clue to time nor place as she slowly stirred to consciousness. She opened her eyes but closed them as the dark shadow of trees swirled around her like she was on a merry-go-round. Slowly, it all came back
to her. The noise. The shadow. The trees. The chase.

She just thanked God they left her to live.

Bianca grunted and winced at the sharp dart of pain that assailed her when she tried to lift her head from where it pressed into the soft earth.
Get up, Bianca. Get up.

She pressed her palms into the ground and lifted up her upper body, only for her arms to tremble and then give out beneath her. “Aah,” she cried out as the action caused her head to rage.

With effort she raised her hand and gingerly touched the back of her head. The warm, stickiness of blood coated her fingers. She had to swallow back down the contents of her stomach.

Her determination rose.

There was no way she was going to lay here and die.

He longed to rest his leg. He couldn’t go home. Not now. People would see his injuries and wonder where they come from. When Bianca tripped him, he fell down hard on his knees and already he felt them swelling and throbbing with pain. His forehead had scraped a tree limb and there was an ugly gash remaining.

His cell phone continued its incessant ringing as he tried his best to stretch out across the cab of the truck. He ignored it. Their plans and their schemes would have to wait.

Kahron banged on the front door and rang the doorbell all at once. What had started as a polite knock from a neighbor increased in weight and occurrence as his knocks went ignored. It took another round of knocks
and ringing before he heard the door unlock.

“Have you lost your mind, Kahron Strong?” Trishon snapped, standing there in a nightie that was far too revealing to open a door in.

He breezed past her and walked into the house. “Where’s Bianca?” he asked, walking to the office only to find it empty.

“Get the hell out of here, Kahron, or I’ll call the police.”

He headed up the stairs and opened each of the doors, pausing in a purple room where Bianca’s opened duffel bag sat in the middle of the bed.

Kahron left the room and jogged back down the stairs. “Where is Bianca?” he roared into Trishon’s face.

“I don’t know,” Trishon answered. “What part of that don’t you understand?”

Kahron was worried, and the last thing he needed was Trishon’s attitude. He grabbed her shoulders and peered down at her with hard and angry eyes. “Trishon, now’s not the time nor place for your bullshit. When did you last see Bianca?”

She stared at him long and hard before she answered. “When I went to bed she was in her room packing. I’ve been sleep ever since so I don’t have a clue what all this is about.”

He released her and strode out the door. He stood there, hands on his narrow hips, as he prayed he was just overreacting.

Bianca crawled like a dog on its belly across the dirt, grass, rough tree limbs, trying desperately to reach the edge of the trees. Every time she tried to muster the will to rise, she would fall. Every time she felt defeated
and wanted to give up, she became twice as determined than before.

Her tears flowed with the dirt on her face, and she could taste it in her mouth. Pain made her body shake and tremble as she sweated with each torturous movement.

She didn’t care. The tears, the pain, and the sweat meant she was still alive.

His cell phone rang and it jarred him from his sleep. He winced as he shifted to comfort. It felt like someone was digging a large and sharp knife into his knee.

Knowing the ringing wouldn’t stop, he snatched up the cell phone. “What?” he snapped.

“Make the call.”

His breathing was jagged and the smell of his own sweat and grime filled the interior of the truck. “Huh?”

“Make the damn call!”

The line went dead.

He was sick of them and their demands. Their orders. Like he was a flunkey in their game. Do this. Do that. Go here. Go there.

But, he was in too deep now to stop. He thought of Bianca’s lifeless body and wondered if she was dead or alive.

Pushing away his guilt, he dialed the number, squinting in the darkness to see the numbers.

Kahron checked every bit of the ranch he could think of, but he still couldn’t find her. Even Trishon had set aside her anger and helped him search—now that she saw his concern for Bianca’s welfare may be valid.

He walked up from the barn, having checked that twice
as if his eyes deceived him the first time. No sign of her.

Something was wrong. He knew that as good as he knew his own name.

He reached for his cell phone, but remembered it was on the passenger seat of his pick-up truck. He had reached his truck and was dialing the number for the police when he heard a noise behind him.

He whirled around, his eyes darting to every inch of the property. He stopped, his body froze in its stance as he listened for the sound again.

“Kahron.”

His breath caught as he heard it again. His head swung to the trees.

“Kahron… please… help me.”

He ran to the trees, his heart pounding, fear nearly chocking him. As he neared the edge of the trees that had once served as their playground, he saw Bianca’s prone figure crawling forward.

“Bianca,” he cried out hoarsely, sliding to the ground beside her to gather her into his arms.

Kahron ached as she cried out in pain. “I got you baby. I got you,” he told her as he rose to his feet with her securely in his arms. He walked as quickly as he could to his truck, trying not to jar her.

Trishon stepped out onto the porch and her eyes took in Bianca’s limp and dirty body. Her screams pierced the night.

Bianca eyes opened slowly and became focused. She looked around, wincing a bit with the movement. She was in a hospital room. Her clothes hung in the mini-closet by the sink. The sun beamed through the window, telling of morning. Kahron slept by her head, his head
nearly falling off of the fist on which it sat.

She shivered at the idea that she lay unconscious in the woods for hours before she had to claw her way to the edge to beg pitifully for help. She blinked away the tears.

Someone left her to die last night and that was a lot to swallow.

As she lay in the darkness she thought of her father, Kahron, Mimi, even Armand, her accomplishments, her goals… her life. She wept for them all. She begged to have them all back.

It was foolish of her to take on the roll of vigilante.

“Hey you.”

Gingerly, she turned her head on the pillow, smiling as Kahron sat forward to lean in close to her. “Hey,” she said, her voice sounding hoarse and odd to her own ears.

He gathered her hands into his and pressed his lips to her fingers. His eyes searched hers, filled with emotion that made Bianca completely breathless.

“I thought I lost you,” he told her huskily, reaching forward to brush her hair from her face.

Bianca smiled, her own eyes glistening a bit. “I’m okay, Kahron. Feeling stupid, but okay.”

The hospital room door opened and Trishon walked in, followed by two police officers.

“Do I need to be alone to give my statement?” Bianca asked, her thumb massaging Kahron’s hand. “I really want him to stay.”

Trishon stepped aside as the taller of the officers stepped forward. “Actually were not here for your statement, ma’am.”

Bianca looked to Kahron—who frowned, and then to Trishon—who looked pleased.

“Well why
are
you here?” Kahron asked, his face
pensive as he looked up at them.

“We have some new developments in the theft of the equipment from the ranch—”

“This couldn’t wait?” Kahron asked.

“Obviously not.”

Bianca held up her hands. “Listen, Kahron, baby, it’s okay,” she told him. “I want to hear this.”

“Actually, ma’am, we wanted to talk to Mr. Strong.”

Both Bianca and Kahron looked confused and asked, “Why?”

“Based on a tip we received last night, we acquired a search warrant and discovered the stolen property on your premises, Mr. Strong.” The shorter officer stepped forward.

Bianca released Kahron’s hand.

Kahron jumped to his feet. “You got to be kidding me.”

“I told you, it was him, but you wouldn’t listen,” Trishon screeched from behind the police officer.

“Mr. Strong, if you’ll come with us, we have some questions for you.”

“This is some real bullshit.” Kahron stiffened his shoulders as one of the police officers stepped closer to him.

Snippets and tidbits of words, comments, and conversations came flooding back to Bianca. Was Kahron,
her
Kahron, behind all of this all the while?

Around the same time he started making offers to buy me out somebody’s been pulling shenanigans around my damn ranch.

“Lock his ass up,” she heard Trishon say.

“Bianca, I know you don’t believe this,” she heard Kahron say.

He had the audacity to tell me I could either sell it to him outright or he’d get it one way or another eventually.

“Come with us, Mr. Strong.”

“Bianca… B… say something, B.”

She looked up, the confusion she felt written all over his face.

I promise you I haven’t done anything to sabotage your father’s business
.

She wiped her face with her hands as one officer placed a hand on Kahron’s elbow and steered him out the room. Kharon’s eyes were locked on her even as he walked away.

It’s not you that I don’t have the faith in, Bianca.

“Told you he wasn’t no good. I told you. I told you,” Trishon said, with way too much glee.

Was all of it a ploy to get some damn land? All of Bianca’s doubts plagued her. What if Kahron was making a fool out of her? She really didn’t know him. It had been less than a month since he first caught her eye on the highway.

It felt like much longer.

You can trust me, Bianca.

“See ya. Wouldn’t wanna be ya.” Trishon waved Kahron away.

Bianca met his eyes again just before the door closed behind him.

Trust is very important to me, B
.

1
4

Bianca picked up the phone but dropped it back like it was on fire. She had this inner struggle every day, nearly a hundred times a day. Call Kahron or not? Which to her was the same as trust Kahron or not.

Lord she missed him.

This last week seemed like an eternity without him.

But she was conflicted.

The police had actually arrested Kahron for possession of stolen property. She already knew his family posted bail the very next day, but she didn’t call him and he didn’t bother to call her.

It was over.

With Kahron’s arrest came other issues. Was he behind the vandalism on her car as well? The attack she suffered last week? Maybe her father hadn’t been wrong and the barn
was
burned down.

She trusted Kahron in her home, her bed… her heart. All the while he was plotting to destroy the work she put into the ranch for some land?

Her fingers sought and found the jagged stitches at the back of her head.

In truth she found it hard to believe Kahron would be behind physically hurting her. Was she stupid or what?

So, her feelings of doubt wavered with her feelings of anger at him. The anger usually won out. He said he wasn’t involved, but why was the stolen equipment found in the shed where he kept his muscle car? Had the same hounds who stole the equipment for him attacked her to keep her from finding out their identity?

Why hadn’t he contacted her to defend his innocence?

Bianca released a heavy breath, and pulled out the accordion folder of her father’s files. She’d been meaning to go through them since she first arrived. She wanted to get his office organized before his arrival home next week. Besides, keeping busy kept her mind off Kahron.

So, even though she felt like dropping her head to the desk and bawling like a baby she blinked away the tears, swallowed back the pain, and focused on the hundred of papers and forms in front of her on the desk.

She separated them into piles: TRASH, IMPORTANT, ASK DADDY. She dropped most of the tattered and worn papers into the trash pile, shaking her head at the stack of warranty papers for appliances she knew they no longer owned. She placed quite a few small insurance policies that she needed to check the status of in the ASK DADDY pile.

“Deed and title. Ranch contracts. Old flyers. Prenuptial papers. Old light bills…”

Prenup
? Bianca paused, her eyebrow arching as her fingers sought and found the legal document. She read it quickly, ending with her father and Trishon’s signatures. “Well at least Daddy had sense to do that,” she muttered, putting it in the IMPORTANT pile.

Bianca continued through each paper until it was all sorted. She took the stack of important papers and put them back in the accordion file. The other stacks she
left to take care of later.

Today she was going to help the ranch hands with the daily turnout of the three horses she purchased from North Carolina. Her father was excited at the prospect of getting home to start training them. Bianca rose, grabbing the sexy pink Stetson she brought, before walking to the door.

The phone rang once. She turned to pick it up but the ringing ended abruptly. Shrugging, she left the office.

Kahron dropped the phone after just one ring. As badly as he wanted to hear Bianca’s voice, feel her body in his arms, and have her back in his life, Kahron was determined not to call her. He would not make the first move to beg her forgiveness for something he didn’t do. Something she should
know
he didn’t do.

Sure, he looked guilty… but he wasn’t. It hurt him that she automatically believed the worst in him. She had no faith in him. No trust.

He had more to deal with than Bianca, though. Someone set him up and Kahron was on a mission to find the culprit. He checked in with the unofficial “street committee,” but so far no gossip concerning the matter had surfaced.

There was one thing he knew for sure. Someone working here at the ranch—
his
ranch—had to be in on it. How else could someone sneak all that equipment on his property without being caught. Possible? Yes. Improbable? Definitely.

Kahron looked up as his brothers Kade and Kaeden walked into his office. “Whassup, ya’ll.”

Kaeden removed his spectacles to clean with his handkerchief. “We’re on our way to Charleston and
stopped by to check up on you,” he said.

Kade frowned as he looked at Kaeden in disbelief. “Real subtle.”

“What?” Kaeden asked.

Kade just shook his head.

“I don’t need to be checked up on,” Kahron insisted. “I been arrested, my girlfriend—uh, ex-girlfriend—has given me her ass to kiss, and someone’s setting me up…
but
I don’t need to be checked on.”

Kade and Kaeden shared a long look.

“Any ideas?” Kade asked.

Kahron leaned back in his chair, his hand stroking his silver shadow as he gazed out the open window with pensive eyes. “The only thing I keep coming back to is the King land, but nothing makes sense.”

“I agree somebody wants it to look like you want the land no matter what. Question is why? Hell, King already said he wasn’t selling it to you, and finding out you stole from him isn’t going to help that,” Kaeden offered, folding his tall frame into one of the club chairs before Kahron’s desk.

“That’s the same part my brain gets stuck on,” Kahron said.

“So you haven’t talked to Bianca yet?” Kade asked, running his fingers through his thick curls as he sat on the edge of his brother’s desk.

“No.”

Kade and Kaeden exchanged another look.

“Must be really hard for Bianca—”

“What!” Kahron exclaimed, cutting off Kaeden’s words.

“Call her. Talk to her,” Kade encouraged.

“She didn’t call me and I damn sure ain’t calling her,” Kahron insisted, picking up a pen only to throw it down in disgust.

“You always are stubborn like Pops,” Kaeden added.

Kade nodded in agreement.

Kahron looked at them both like they were crazy.

“Just put yourself in Bianca’s shoes. I wouldn’t know what to think either, man,” Kade told him.

“Do you think I stole the equipment?” Kahron asked, looking first to Kade and then Kaeden. “Do you?”

“Hell naw,” they both answered without hesitation.

“But all the evidence points to me, so… why don’t ya’ll believe it?”

Kade and Kaeden exchanged a long look.

“Come on, Kahron. I see the point your getting it at but—”

“But hell,” Kahron stressed. “I opened myself up to this woman. I told her secrets. I shared my dreams, my hopes, my everything with her. And after all that she can just turn her back on me like I was crap on her shoe? To hell with Bianca King.”

“Just seems to me you were happier with her than without her, and that means something in my book,” Kade said in a low voice.

“And trust is something in mine,” Kahron countered, in a voice that was nearly identical to his brother.

Kahron and Kade locked eyes but there was nothing but brotherly concern and love in the depths.

“Just promise me I’ll be best man at the wedding,” Kade said with the hint of a smile at his lips.

“Did I not just say to hell with Bianca King?” Kahron asked in exasperation.

Kade reached into his back pocket of his Dickies pants for his wallet and pulled out a crisp one hundred dollar bill to toss on Kahron’s desk. “That says you and Bianca will be sniffing back around each other by next
week,” he said with confidence.

“I want a piece of that,” Kaeden added, tossing two fifties onto the desk as well.

“Oh, so that’s how ya’ll gone play me?”

Kade and Kaeden looked at each other and then looked at Kahron. “Yup.”

Trishon was taking a hot bubble bath scented with apples when Hank made his ritual nightly call. Like clockwork the phone rang at 8
P
.
M
.

“Hey baby,” she purred, playing in the bubbles.

“Hi Trishon.”

“I miss you so much, Hank.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m going to throw you a big welcome home party next week.”

“Uhm, well, maybe you should hold off from that. I don’t want to be around people drinking right now.”

“Don’t be silly, Hank.”

He remained quiet.

“This is the longest we’ve ever been apart.”

“Yeah, I know. Bianca there?”

Trishon frowned at the change of conversation. “She went home.”

“I have to talk to her so I better call her.”

She felt his distance and her brow wrinkled with worry.

“Hank,” she called out suddenly, biting her thumb nail as she sat up in the water. “Yes, Trishon?”

“I love you, Hank,” she said, needing to feel her power.

Silence.

“Hank?”

“Yeah, me too, Trish. Me too. Okay.”

Her eyes glittered like cold diamonds. “Pap Doc said to call him ASAP. Something ’bout it being important.”

“I’ll call right after I talk to Bianca.”

“Hank?”

“What, Trishon? What?”

“Nothing. Not a damn thing.”

They hung up at the same time.

Bianca eyed her slightly ajar front door of her townhouse. She used her foot to swing the door open, but she didn’t step over the threshold. The light from the porch framed her in the doorway as she reached inside to flip the light switch and illuminate the room.

Her knees weakened and fear clutched at her heart like a vice. Bianca took an involuntary step back as her wide eyes took in the scene before her.

Her home was a shambles. A mess. A deliberate and diabolical mess.

Furniture was turned upside down. The glass of her tables was shattered. Potted plants torn to shreds. Pictures destroyed and broken in half.

“What the hell?” she shrieked, reaching in her purse for her cell phone.

She quickly moved back to the parking lot, hating that her first instinct was to run and hide. Fear never set well with her, but after her attack last week—among the trees she once thought of as a haven—she was no longer falling for the okey-doke and putting herself in danger.

She made the call to the police, staying planted by her car even as her eyes took in the destruction inside her living room.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

This was about more than the damn land. Someone wanted her gone and that was completely clear. All of it was muddling her brains. The shenanigans at the farm. The stolen equipment. The vandalism on her car. Her attack last week. Now this. All of it lay in jagged pieces that would eventually fit like pieces of a puzzle so that the picture of someone’s intent would be clear.

Even the attempt to make Kahron look guilty.

Yes, whoever the culprit was had pushed their hand too far. This last attempt did not reinforce her belief in Kahron’s guilt. It made her even more clear that someone was setting him up.

What would Kahron gain by scaring her back to Atlanta when he was one of the reasons she moved back to Holtsville?
Maybe he just wants me to think he wanted you here?

No, Bianca
, she argued with herself as she paced before her car.
Stop second guessing him. Stop doubting him. Stop it.

If Kahron wanted the land, stealing the equipment and then leaving it on his ranch was not the smartest move at all. The theft made him less likely to get the land, and that was ultimately Kahron’s well-admitted goal. The land.

Bianca was still pacing and thinking, trying to be clear. Trying to think clear. Use rationale. Discard foolishness. Embrace reason.

“Think. Make sense, B.” She paused at her own use of Kahron’s nickname for her. An endearment. Something brought forth from caring.

Trust is very important to me, B
.

“Dr. King?”

Bianca whirled to find two police officers walking up
to her. She shook each of their warm hands. “Yes.”

“You got one helluva enemy, ma’am? This is your fourth incident in a month.”

She locked eyes with the officer. “Yes, I do, and I’m gonna find out just who the hell it is.”

“Brrrnnnggg.”

Kahron was jolted from sleep where he lounged on the sofa with the television watching him more than he was watching it. He reached on the floor for his cordless. “Yo.”

“I need your help.”

Kahron’s heart hammered in his chest at the sound of Bianca’s voice. He felt like the very breath was knocked from him. After nearly seven days without her voice, it was rain during a drought. Needed. Wanted. Prayed for.

He hated to admit that.

“Why are you calling me, Bianca?” he asked forcing hardness to his voice.

“I told you. I need your help.”

He frowned as he wiped his mouth, his fingers smoothing the fine hairs of his slight beard. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

“No… no, not at all.” She released a breath. “But

what I have to say to you has to be said in person.”

“Where are you, B? I mean Bianca?”

“So I’m not B anymore?”

“B would have trusted me. There is no B, you’re just Bianca. Now where are you?”

“Open the door.”

His head turned to the closed door. He kept the phone pressed to his face even as he rose from the couch and walked bare-chested to the door. He inhaled and then
exhaled as he opened it and found Bianca standing before him, her cell phone pressed to her face as well.

Urges, needs, and wants filled him with intensity. He fought them. No hugs, no kisses, no words whispered of how much he missed her… and loved her. He felt betrayed. He wanted his heart to stay cold.

“Well, what you got to say, Bianca?” he asked, cutting

off the phone as he heard Hershey walk up to them.

“Someone broke into my townhouse today—”

Kahron laughed in derision and flung his hands up into the air as he stepped onto the porch. “Yeah, I guess I was at your door like a crackhead with a butter knife jimmying your door right? Why would I think you were here being woman enough to admit that you were wrong to believe I would ever hurt you, B. Why? This isn’t about some damn land. This is about you and me. And you should know damn well I wouldn’t hurt you in any way. I was wrong about you before and you know what—tonight is no exception.”