Chapter Eleven
Jessica’s scream echoed throughout the room and in Sebastian’s head, like other screams that sometimes haunted him. Samantha clutched him tighter, burying her little face in his neck as she trembled in his arms. While he patted her back with one hand, he reached for her mother with the other, needing to protect her.
Her scream and wide-eyed look of horror told him who had entered the waiting room even before he turned toward the doorway. Evgeny Surinka walked in alone, without the men Jessica was so certain he had sent ahead to grab her. He didn’t need to hire muscle. The man was built like a boxer, with heavy arms that strained the sleeves of his gray suit, and his hands, which he fisted at his sides, were the size of dinner plates.
Thinking of those fists striking Jessica sent rage coursing through Sebastian, heating his blood. If Samantha wasn’t clinging to him, he would have launched himself at Evgeny. All he could do now was step between Jessica and the man who’d abused her physically so long ago and had continued to do so emotionally and mentally even after she’d run away from him.
Evgeny narrowed his eyes, which were the same gray as Samantha’s. But while hers sparkled with warmth and friendliness, his were as cold and hard as the metal of the gun Sebastian wanted to thrust in his face. As if sensing his murderous intent, the man sucked in an audible breath. But he wasn’t looking at Sebastian anymore; he stared instead at the child in Sebastian’s arms.
“Teresa, is this my daughter?”
Jessica stepped out from behind Sebastian. “No.”
“Why do I suspect a DNA test will say otherwise?” he challenged her.
“You’re not the only one with suspicions, Surinka,” Sebastian said.
“You know my name,” Evgeny said, and an evil grin curved his thin lips. “You have me at a disadvantage then because I do not know you.” The condescending glint in his eyes claimed otherwise.
“I am Prince Sebastian Cavanaugh.”
“The one who held the press conference this morning,” he said, his gaze skimming over Sebastian’s shirt and jeans. “I didn’t recognize you.” He turned back to Jessica. “But I recognized
you
.”
“She was not there this morning.”
“She must have showed up later—for the reward,” Evgeny said. “Or at least that’s what the reporters speculated when you chased her out of the Wind River County Courthouse.”
“Were you here this morning?” Sebastian asked.
Evgeny tilted his head again, his jaw clenching, as if he struggled to control his anger over being interrogated. “My plane just flew in,” he said. “Only booked my flight after I caught that glimpse of Teresa.” He kept staring at her, his gaze so possessive. “Despite the red dye and the straight hair, I knew it was you.”
She shivered, and Sebastian wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. But she tensed in his loose embrace and shrugged off his arm. “No, you’re wrong. My name’s not Teresa.” She shook her head, even more desperately denying her identity than she’d denied being the witness. “I’m not who you think I am.”
“It’s been five years,” Evgeny said, “but I would know you anywhere, Teresa.” He reached a hand toward her, but she flinched and stepped back. “You can’t deny who you are.” The flinch had given her away because triumph leaped in his cold gray eyes. “You’re my wife.”
“No.” She shook her head again but not in denial of her identity because she added, “I filed papers. I’m not your wife any longer.”
“You filed while I was in prison,” he said, his voice hard with that barely suppressed rage. “But you never signed the papers.”
“You didn’t give her the chance,” Sebastian said. He pressed his hand over the little girl’s ear that wasn’t nestled into his neck. “You put her in the hospital.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Evgeny said. “Or even
why
you’re talking. This should be a private conversation between a man and his wife.” He glanced toward the child, but he couldn’t see her face because Sebastian kept his hand there, protecting her from the cold hard gaze of her father. “And my daughter.”
“She’s not yours,” Jessica said, her voice just a shaky whisper. She reached for Samantha, prying the trembling child from Sebastian’s arms. Then she turned away, in the direction where the sheriff waited to speak with her and stood watching them, his eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what was going on.
But Evgeny reached out and grabbed her arm. “You’re not getting away from me again.”
Sebastian wrapped his hand around the Russian’s wrist and squeezed until Evgeny eased his grip. And Jessica tugged free and crossed the room, taking herself and her child out of the ruthless man’s reach.
“You are going to talk to me,” Evgeny yelled after his wife. He shrugged off Sebastian’s hand and started toward Jessica.
But Sebastian blocked him and the man shoved against his chest, trying to move him. Sebastian was immovable, though, with his legs planted apart and rage coursing through his veins. He wanted the man to swing at him so that he didn’t have to swing first.
“The only one you should be talking to is the sheriff,” Sebastian said. “You have some questions to answer.”
“About what?” Evgeny asked as he stepped back.
“About what happened today—at the resort and out at the ranch.” And maybe even on that ridge. While his men had been in the van, Evgeny could have been in the badlands.
That evil smirk crossed the man’s face, but he shrugged off Sebastian’s accusations. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Neither do I,” said Sheriff Wolf.
Sebastian had been so focused on Evgeny that he hadn’t noticed when the lawman had joined them. Like him, the man had braced himself as if ready for a fight—or at least ready to break one up.
“You need to be questioning him about the men who attacked Helen Jeffries,” Sebastian said. “They probably work for him.”
“What men?” Evgeny asked, glancing around the waiting room as if expecting to find them. But the waiting room was not very crowded—only a few other people sat on chairs that faced the television. But they didn’t even pretend to be watching it; instead they watched them. “I just arrived in town.”
“But you sent your men ahead to find Jessica.”
“Teresa,” Evgeny corrected him. “And I did no such thing.” He turned toward the sheriff. “You have no reason to question me.”
“Forget about questioning him, then, and just arrest him,” Sebastian advised.
“For what?” Evgeny asked, arching a pale blond brow. “There are no outstanding warrants against me. I’ve even served out my parole.”
“You violated your parole when you got out of prison and beat your wife.” Sebastian fisted his hands, ready to beat the man who’d been so vicious to a woman who deserved only respect and tenderness.
“I don’t know what she told you,” Evgeny said, “but that’s not what she told anyone else. She never pressed charges against me.”
“She was too scared to do that,” Sebastian defended her. “Then. Talk to her now, Sheriff. She’ll tell you all about her ex-husband.”
Sheriff Wolf glanced across the room to where Jessica stood with her daughter and then back to the men who stood uncomfortably close to each other. “Can I leave you two over here without worrying you’ll beat the hell out of each other?”
“Maybe not,” Sebastian acknowledged. He really, really wanted—no, hell, he
needed
—to make Evgeny Surinka feel the pain and fear he’d subjected Jessica to for years.
Evgeny chuckled and held up his hands. “I want no trouble. I only came here to bring my wife—” his throat moved as he swallowed hard “—and child home with me.”
“They’re not going anywhere with you,” Sebastian said. “Sheriff, please, talk to Jessica.”
“Teresa,” Evgeny corrected him again. The sheriff only nodded and walked over to her and Samantha. Evgeny turned to Sebastian and reiterated, “Her name is Teresa.”
“Not anymore. That woman you knew—your wife—she’s gone. You killed her five years ago.”
Evgeny laughed. “How long have you known my wife?”
Sebastian lifted his chin. “It doesn’t matter how long. It’s how well.”
“You don’t know her very well at all,” Evgeny said. “She and I grew up together. Her brother and I were best friends. We’ve known each other most of our lives. We are connected in a way that you will never know or experience. I don’t know what she told you in order to gain your sympathy and probably a lot of your money, but I do know that she will come back to me.”
“She stayed away from you for five years,” Sebastian reminded the narcissist. “If your men hadn’t hurt her friend, she would already be gone. She knew it was you behind everything.” And Sebastian should have trusted her and helped her get away before Evgeny had found out about Samantha. And before Jessica had had to face the monster from her past.
Evgeny laughed again. “She’d be gone…with your big reward money, man. Haven’t you figured out that she’s been playing you all along?”
Sebastian shook his head in disgust. “You are unbelievable.”
“You’d be smart to believe me,” Evgeny said, “because as I already told you, I know the real Teresa.”
“Jessica,” Sebastian murmured.
“Let me guess,” Evgeny continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “Teresa claimed to be that witness you’re looking for, but then she really had nothing to tell you about that night that you didn’t already know.”
He shook his head.
“So I’m wrong?” That pale blond brow arched again. “She led you to your missing friend?”
“You’re wrong about her wanting my money,” he said. “She refused to accept the reward.”
“Of course she did,” Evgeny said, “which made you all the more determined to give her that money and anything else. Oh, and then when she shared her sob story with you, she really roped you in, got you all determined to take care of her. To protect her.” Evgeny reached out and patted his shoulder in commiseration. “She does that to a man, plays all vulnerable so that he wants to protect her.”
Sebastian itched to slam his fist into the man’s smug face. Instead he forced a laugh, too. “Better men than you have tried to mess with my head. It’s not going to work.”
Not again. But it had worked once. Even though he was dead, his grandfather still lived in Sebastian’s mind—haunting him with all his criticisms and complaints. It wouldn’t have mattered what Sebastian had done; it never would have been good enough for King Omar Zubira because he’d never been good enough. Because Omar hadn’t believed Sebastian’s father had been good enough to marry his daughter. And in the end maybe he hadn’t been.
“I am going to protect her from you,” Sebastian vowed.
Evgeny chuckled. “That’s funny, really, when you’re the one who actually needs protecting.”
J
ESSICA COULDN’T SPEAK
, could only nod or shake her head in response to the sheriff’s questions. She didn’t care as much about what he was saying as she worried about what Evgeny was saying to Sebastian.
Better than anyone, she knew how the man could manipulate someone. Heck, even as a young boy he’d been able to manipulate people into feeling things they hadn’t felt, into believing things they’d always doubted.
“I’m not lying,” she said.
“About what?” the sheriff asked, his brow furrowed with confusion.
“He’s a bad man,” she said, glancing back at her daughter. Samantha sat at that table again, far enough away from her mother and her father that she wouldn’t be able to hear either conversation—especially because she was listening to the MP3 player again.
“I can’t arrest him for that,” Wolf replied. “You’ll have to swear out a complaint against him.”
“For something he did five years ago?” she asked. “In another state? Can you arrest him?”
“We can work with the police department where the crime occurred.”
She snorted. “He works with the police department where the crime occurred.”
“He’s a cop?”
“He’s more powerful than that.”
“What is he?” Wolf asked, with another glance over his shoulder at the men who stood too close together and were too deep in conversation.
“An FBI informant. That’s how he got out of prison. He turned over evidence against someone the Feds wanted for a long time.”
“Who?” Wolf asked.
“His father.” He’d turned against the man he’d both feared and loved—because of her. Once she’d served him with the divorce papers, he’d been determined to get to her at whatever cost. And no one would get in his way or stop him.
Sebastian had promised her that he would, but she couldn’t count on him. She couldn’t count on anyone. But she could count on Evgeny never giving up.
“So you think that because of what he’s done for the FBI, he’s untouchable?” the sheriff asked.
“I’ve been gone for five years,” she said. “Maybe things have changed. Maybe he got in trouble again.”
“I’ll do what Prince Sebastian suggested and search for outstanding warrants.”
“I wish you could arrest him.”
“Unless there’s a warrant for him, I wouldn’t be able to hold him.”
“Even if you could hold him for just a little while…” Giving her enough time to run away with Samantha.
“I’ll see what I can do.” The sheriff pulled out his cell phone, then glanced at the sign prohibiting its use. “I’ll be right back,” he assured her as he walked toward the hall.
Sebastian followed him out, his deep voice vibrating with anger. Her own temper flared as she realized they’d left her and Samantha alone with Evgeny.
As he walked over to her, a grin curved his cruel lips. Instead of running away or cowering, she met him halfway, stepping between him and Samantha as Sebastian had stepped in front of her just a short while ago.
“You’re losing your white knight,” Evgeny taunted her.
“What did you say to him?”
“I told him he was wasting his time with you,” he replied. “That you and I have a connection that will never be broken.”
She glanced back at Samantha, making sure the little girl still had the phone pressed to her ear, listening to music. Still, Jessica pitched her voice lower, so her child would not overhear. “You broke that connection when you broke my nose as well as a couple other of my bones five years ago.”