Splinters (11 page)

“You’re a gift,” he says, and I realize he’s looking up at me intently. His face is red and sweaty, his hips bucking up at me, but he grins. “Come on me, baby. Show me how beautiful you can be.”

I come for him. It’s all too much to keep inside. His body’s so strong and hot under mine, those fingers and the pressure driving me wild, and his smile so confident that I’m a goddamn gift just for him. Of course I come. I can’t hold it back.

I flop face down in his shoulder sucking air, my belly slick and cock throbbing, just out of my mind from the pulsing rush of orgasm when he bellows and comes, too. I doubt anyone in the house missed that. His follow-up groan makes all of him vibrate and me with him. I huff a laugh only to have to gasp another breath.

When I finally lift my head, I see he’s got that knowing and satisfied grin on his kiss-swollen lips again. Eyes closed, becoming one with the bedding under him, and so pleased with himself. Possibly with me, too.

“You’re not stayin’ in that room,” he says and doesn’t even open his eyes to see how I take that. Smug man. And right.

I lie on him, give him my weight. Everything raging and desperate between us is soft and content now. This is where I’m supposed to be.

awaken looking at the bedroom door, morning sunlight bathing the room in pale gold. Staring at the door pops a question into my sleepy brain that I hadn’t considered last night. How did Duke manage to look in on me if I woke him up when I came in here? Was I just that desperate to see him, that I imagined him? I smile to myself. I’m not desperate now. I’m blissfully satisfied to be the little spoon with a furry bear who’s holding my hand in his sleep.

A moment later, he squeezes my fingers and sighs in my ear. I can feel his mustache and lips as he nuzzles against the back of my head. I wiggle back against him and tuck his arm under my chest to get him leaning more on my back. Maybe I’ll work on showing him how much I’ll adore being under him this morning.

I’m distracted from his nuzzling when I notice the open wardrobe. Hanging there is the blue and white striped shirt Duke gave me to wear after he sucked the splinters out of my ass. There are a few dark rust spots on it that tell me he hasn’t washed it. And he’s hung it up on a hanger in there. I gasp in delight, then look at him over my shoulder as I point.

“Did you seriously do a
Brokeback
with that shirt? Oh my God, Duke,
really?
” I bite my bottom lip and feel the prickle of tears.

He lifts his head to look over me at the wardrobe. “I…” He clears his throat. “Uh…”

I don’t care if he consciously did it or not. I twirl around in his arms to face him fully. “You are
so sweet
,” I whisper against his lips. I can feel him smile before he takes advantage and gets his tongue inside my eager mouth.

His thick thigh shoves between mine, spreading me open. I hike my leg up higher and grip his back to pull him more on top of me. Without hesitation, he squashes me into the bed and kisses me breathless while rocking us together. Oh yes.
Yes, yes, yes
…

A woman screams. We jerk apart.

“What the hell?” I look at the door like Mia or Elsie might be standing there, but then I realize the cry came from downstairs.

Mia shrieks Duke’s name this time.

“Coming,” he yells back and springs from the bed. He grabs up his jeans and hauls them on. The thump in my chest kicks into overdrive at the frantic look on his face.

I get up, too. “What’s happening?”

“Don’t know.”

By the time I’m off the bed, he’s out the door and pounding down the stairs. I grab the bathrobe hanging off the end of the bed and hustle out into the hallway while putting it on.

It strikes me odd that Elise’s door is closed, so I stop and knock. When there’s no answer, I open it. The bedding’s on the floor. Like someone dragged it with them when they got up. That might make sense given the scream, but to close the door after? I gulp, looking harder at the disarray. There’s a chair knocked over, clothes on the floor. This… This looks like a struggle. What the hell happened in here?

“Allan!”

I flinch at Duke’s yell, and then run from the room and down the stairs. At the bottom, the front door’s open and, at this angle, I can see the barn. Duke’s out there with something that’s strung up on white ropes in the darkness of the open barn doors. It looks… It kind of looks like a person. Someone slender and long-limbed with flowing dark hair—

I run outside, hardly aware of yard debris stabbing into my bare feet. I come to an abrupt halt when I clearly see it’s
Elsie
tied up and naked. Why is she like that? What’s going on? It doesn’t make sense. Elsie would
never
willing participate in anything like this.

Which means she wasn’t willing. Someone did this to her.

Is she dead?
I stare and touch my chest. Up, down, right, left.
Oh, my God
.

“
Allan
,” Duke hollers.

I flinch and take in the whole scene now. Duke’s trying to hold Elsie up. She’s bound, hands and feet, but hanging. I rush over.

“Hold her,” he says. “I can’t untie her down here, but it looks like loops up there.”

I look where he’s pointing. Maybe there’s a reason for the front of the barn to have bent metal bars sticking out like a foot pointing to the sky, but right now they’re holding the ropes tied to Elsie. “Yeah. Go,” I tell him and he runs into the barn. I hug Elsie’s torso. “Oh, thank God,” I whisper into her hair because I can feel her breathing.

I don’t have to wonder what’s happened here. I’ve lived it. The binding is different and she’s not shaved anywhere, but it’s all the same. “Why you? I’m so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry.”

Mia's suddenly beside me, her hands shaking as she holds up a quilt. “Oh, God, no,” she says and her voice is full of misery. “Not again.”

While she cries and shakes her head, Mia gathers the quilt around Elsie. Then Toby’s dashing over and working a rope from the hinge of the barn door. It’s connected to Elsie’s ankle, keeping her legs spread. My breath catches as I hug her to me because this is
so wrong
. Elsie Moreland’s a lady, damn it. She should
never
have been treated like this.

“Ready?” Duke asks from above.

I look up and croak affirmatively at him. Suddenly, Ray’s there to hold Elsie up with me. He looks devastated, too. The tension leaves the leg Toby’s freed, and Duke lets Elsie’s right arm down. It’s slow, like he doesn’t want to just drop the rope. They’re all being delicate with her. I’m glad for that. She deserves it.

After Duke’s freed Elsie’s other arm and Toby’s done the same to her other ankle, I swoop her up across my arms. Ray helps with the quilt to keep her decent while I trudge across the yard. Duke’s hand against my back gives me strength to get up the stairs. In the parlor, Mia tosses the little pillows from the sofa to the floor and gestures for me to make use of the space.

I do my best not to dump Elsie, but my arms are shaking while my heart pounds. I nearly collapse after I finally settle her on the cushions. But I don’t care, it’s not about me. My sweet girl… She looks so fragile, like a porcelain doll left outside too long. I brush her hair back from her face, glad she appears peaceful. Maybe she wasn’t aware of anything that happened. Maybe she was only out there for a short time. I can hope.

Duke cups the back of my head, the gesture comforting. I look over at him and gulp down a lump of fear and worry.

“Wanna go get dressed? I’ll watch over her.”

It’s the sensible thing to do, I know. I’m only wearing my camisole and Duke’s robe. With Ray and Toby hovering just like Duke is, Elsie’s safe now. Mia's clattering around in the kitchen like a woman on a mission, taking care in her own way, I’m sure. As I shuffle away, though, I can’t help glancing back a few times like someone might spirit Elsie away.

The someone who might still be on the ranch even now.

ressed in the same clothes from yesterday, I hover on the fringes of the parlor while EMTs assess Elsie’s condition. When we couldn’t wake her up, Duke called for an ambulance. Waiting for them was the longest half-hour of my life. Watching them work on her, being unable to help her myself, is torture.

She’s so still. My Elsie never stops.
Wake up. Please, wake up
.

One man has already confirmed she’s breathing well, but he’s put an oxygen mask on her face. She’s hooked up to something monitoring her heart, and another man is starting an IV. I gulp as the needle slides into her flesh. It’s all so
serious
. I’m shaking, pacing, sniffing back tears. I know I’m losing it fast, but she’s unconscious, and they keep telling me to stay back.

“Breathe, babe,” Duke whispers, suddenly beside me.

I flinch, tearing my gaze away from Elsie’s pale form with an almost physical sensation of ripping free. When Duke wipes his thumb under my eye, I redouble my efforts to get it together.

“She’s so… It’s just…” I can’t find the words.

“I know. They’re workin’ on helpin’ her, though. She’ll be all right.”

He doesn’t really know that, though. I remember what those links said after he found me. I’d felt fine at the time, but date-rape drugs could cause a person’s breathing to slow to nothing and even put them in a coma. Whoever did this, if they gave her too much and she never woke up—
Oh, my God, she could die
. My stomach churns and I gag and cover my mouth.

Duke’s quick to shuffle me into the kitchen. I lean over the sink, hands braced for a storm, but I don’t actually vomit. I’m panting as Duke rubs my back. Heart pounding, I break out in a sweat and the shaking increases. My knees wobble.

“Easy, Al,” Duke practically purrs in my ear. He wraps one thick arm around my middle, like he’ll catch me if I fall. “Just breathe. You’re okay, and Elsie’s gonna be.”

I nod and try to regain some control. Is this a panic attack? I feel like I’m going to faint, or maybe my heart will explode. I suck in a few slightly deeper breaths, trying to resist shaking apart.