Desire (Montana Dreams Book 3) (7 page)

Bradley whistled. “Travis, the rescue man. You can take the man away from the job, but you can’t take the protector out of the man.”

“Ha! Something like that.”

Matt cleared his throat until he and Travis eyed him. “I built Divine for Trina. Build it and she will come.”

“I remember that movie,” Bradley said, “
Field of Dreams
.”

“Montana Dreams,” Matt offered.

“That woman has you whipped.” The corners of Travis’ mouth moved out and up, twitching, and his cheeks bulged. “Tough military guy talking spank.”

Bradley eyed his brother-in-law, remembering the day he first saw the fake leg. He and Travis went to the footbridge along the Potomac River in Virginia, the secret place Trina would meet Matt, to inform him of Trina’s accident. Matt had passed out drunk on the bridge while his leg lay below, along the water’s edge. “You’re doing great getting around,” he said without thinking. Usually he kept his thoughts about the injury to himself. He didn’t want Matt to relive the explosion that had stolen the lives of fellow Marines and ripped off the lower half of his leg from the knee down.

“Yeah. It’s a slight inconvenience.” Matt rubbed the spot above where the prosthetic hooked into place. “I don’t think about it much. So, what about you? What have you done to impress the girl?”

“Matt, you got to have a girl to impress. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t.” He wished the opposite, wished that he had Cadence, and wished his head was on straight to see through the darkness engulfing the intimacy he and Cadence once shared.

“That’s not exactly right,” Travis said. “You got one. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in knots. ” His gaze went distant, as if his thoughts drifted into the clouds that now hovered between the mountains. “Don’t ever be so self-absorbed—”

“That you don’t see another’s pain,” Matt finished. “Our dad’s philosophy.”

“Profound.” Now he was catching on to this confession game. “You tracked me to probe about the girl.” No doubt, Travis’ search and rescue training had helped to find him. “Did your wives put you up to this?”

“Hey, now!” Travis tossed a stick over the ledge. “I can think for myself.”

Matt snorted. “Sure you can, Grandma.”

Bradley hadn’t heard Matt call his brother Grandma in years, not since they were teens and Travis was acting father, mother, and brother. Listening to them tease each other lifted the heaviness. Each guy went through struggles to get to this place in life, one where a person smiled just because. He wanted that. He wanted it with Cadence, and darn if he was gonna let a confused woman’s past actions discourage him.

Cadence didn’t have the best upbringing. Her parents worried more about how to put money in their bank account than investing time in her, not unlike his childhood. He and Trina had been there for Cadence, but there was one major difference in her situation. Cadence went home at night to a loveless house. Bradley and Trina had each other. They’d meet in the kitchen late at night to snack on cake, or grab a bottle of wine and go to the rooftop outside of Bradley’s window. Cadence never had a go-to sibling to unite forces with against her parents. Her challenges were confronted alone.

A tight band clenched his chest as adrenaline shot through his veins, bolting him off the ground and mounting Cimmerian. He had to get to Cadence as quick as possible. With her reckless behavior lately, he didn’t trust that she wouldn’t seek out some joe-blow to take away the pain. The same shit she’d been doing. He knew this. Why in the hell did he leave her alone? “Selfish prick,” he muttered, condemning himself before shouting, “Gotta go!” over his shoulder.

****

Gravel crunched under the wheels of Cadence’s car. Every noise since she left Divine accentuated in the car as she drove to the bar on the outskirts of town. The place no one talks about, the place where the roughest crowds mix. Not her usual type of bar to pick up a man, but desperate times brought on stupid acts. Even knowing this, she opened her car door, smoothed down her jeans, and tucked in her long-sleeved cotton shirt. Changing out of what she wore to the corral seemed fruitless. Why bother when she’d toss her clothes into a pile at first chance?

Being with Bradley brought back memories of what life had been like before the accident, before she knew her actions didn’t involve just her. The pain, the guilt had to vanish. Bad boys played in bars like these. The acid spiraling through her needed a bad boy, a very bad boy to shove her into a place where what she’d done wasn’t the worse thing she survived.

When Bradley left her standing in the barn, she succumbed to the storm raging inside. Fell to her knees and cried. It wasn’t until her head pounded, and her nose grew stuffy that she realized this pain had to stop.
A new pain to cover up the old
. Some people cut themselves to alleviate the pain, not her, though she thought about it once, years ago. She had believed the reason her mother was never home had to do with her: not getting good enough grades, not keeping her room clean enough, and not living up to her parents’ expectations.

Thankfully, she chickened out, especially glad when she’d learned of her mother’s affair. Still, the pieces chipped out of her soul from that experienced stayed gone. Somehow for reasons she couldn’t explain, her actions that resulted in losing the baby brought out an ache from deep within and intensified her past ten-fold. Maybe she wasn’t the strong person she thought she’d become. Maybe the fear of not living up to the Lovett parents’ approval tore her apart more than she realized. Whatever the reason, she was done fretting over it.

Outside the bar, heavy-metal music blasted. Cigarette and cigar smoke, even the smell of marijuana, seeped out of the building seams. Yeah, this was the perfect place to forget. The no-smoking laws didn’t exist, which meant the police must not come around. Taking in a deep breath of Montana air, she opened the door at the end of the building and squinted. Scruffy-headed, bearded men narrowed their dark eyes, barely visible in the low lighting as they puffed on whatever stuck between their fingers.

Oh, boy
. Maybe she did get in over her head. She moved over to the bar, her hands shaking, and plopped on the stool. “A draft whenever you get a chance, please.”

A man, with a bald eagle and American flag tattooed on his arm, nodded his head and sucked on his upper lip. The scar above his right eye became noticeable as he walked toward her, mug in hand.

“Are you in the right place?” He placed the mug in front of her and braced his meaty palms on the worn bar.

She didn’t know what he meant, but the weight in his words and the gleam in his dark eyes insinuated she’d best leave. Burying her pain was one thing, getting killed was another. “Um no. I don’t think I am.” Sliding a five on the counter, she swallowed half her drink. “Thank you,” she said, her voice stronger than a moment ago, and edged backwards off the wooden stool. The bartender, the size of a bear, gazed at something behind her and grimaced.
Oh shit!

“Keep it.” He spun and moved to the other end of the bar without a backward glance. Heavy, hot air hit her, and went straight through her shirt. The foul breath wasn’t the kind that gave a girl tingles. It was the kind that scared a person, disgusted them, enough to vomit. A dull pain grabbed her lower stomach and she doubled over. Holding onto her barstool, she bent over, puked, and rushed for the exit.

A tattooed covered hand hit the wood door and slammed it in her face.

“No-o-oo!”

“Come on, sweetheart.” Cigarette smoke and some other type of odor she didn’t recognized assaulted her senses. “Don’t think you can walk into our cave, looking sexy in those cowgirl boots, and waltz out.” The man latched onto her wrist and twisted it behind her. His nasty, hot breath puffed along her face, close to her mouth. “You’ve got to put on a show first.”

Dread, as she’d never experienced, ransacked her nerves. Squeezing her eyes shut, she hoped and prayed this was all a bad dream, that her stupid actions wouldn’t become a horrible reality.

“Open those peeps.”

She didn’t.

“Easy way or hard way.”

Her muscles trembled and sweat flowed out of her pores. She never stunk so fast or so much in her life. Sucking in a deep breath, she focused on what to do—knee him in the crotch or plunged her elbow into his stomach. Either way, she had to look at him so she opened an eye.

He sneered. Crooked, black teeth that looked like they had never seen a toothbrush flashed a malicious grin. She choked in a breath to stop from smelling his vile odor.

“Either you perform or I’ll make you.” Wooly eyebrows narrowed to angry slits. A hard-edged jaw, and fat lips with a scar slicing the corner, tightened and the veins in his neck bulged.

Knee or elbow?

Eyeing the areas to take him down, her muscles knotted and she craved to fall to the floor and slither out of the bar. His belly and crotch were unrecognizable. Layers of rolls hid the top portion of his legs.

She moaned, and he growled, snapping her attention to his face. Eyes, black as a spade, danced in different directions until they darkened even more and zeroed in on her. Their gleam sent an eeriness over her that begged her to run, to get the hell out before the worst came.

But her feet refused to move. In the past, she’d always had some control. The accident, Bradley, everything. Her brained had worked. Right now, it went on hiatus and left a shivering skeleton in its place. As if the guy needed backup, a dozen men moved closer.
What the hell have I done?

“Go!” He grunted and lifted the arm not holding her. A hook at the end of it pinched together like tweezers and aimed for her breast.

The primal response to scream lodged in her throat. Her body escalated into a full tremor.
Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Let me move! Let me move!
Her breathing rushed out, and a suffocating feeling launched itself on her chest.
Act now!
On a harsh puff of air, she lifted her knee, smacked him in the overlapping gut, and broke free of his grasp. She race toward the door. Angry mutters and yells of “Get her!” followed her. Fear and dread parked itself in her stomach. The door, only a foot away, seemed like a mile. She stretched out a hand, ready to touch the smoothness of the doorknob, when a hand hit her chest and shoved. She flew backwards, hit the cement floor. Pain pierced her body. She curled into a fetal position.
If they think she was dead, maybe they’d leave her alone.

“I warned you!” The hooked man roared.

The dead act didn’t work. She scooted backwards on her butt, crab-walk style.

“Get the fuck up there!” he ordered as one of his nearby cronies jerked her arm until she stood and shoved her toward a stage in the center of the room. A dull silver pole rose from the middle of the platform.

On shaky legs, she inched forward. Breathing grew difficult, unbearable. Her pulse mirrored the spirit of her stallion. The crowd of male-filth and gross-women lifted their mugs as their mouths opened. She heard nothing. The pole on the stage warped into a moving, squiggly snake. Her legs morphed to noodles. She was going down, about to pass out. It’d be better than knowing what they’d do. Maybe they’d shoot her up with heroin before they took advantage. To live through what was about to take place… The cold sensation of ice slid down her spinal column, leaving her numb. How did she let herself get this far? Why did she not stay home in Maryland? And lord, why didn’t she stay in Bradley’s arms? Nothing she did deserved this. She reached the stairs to take her punishment and slipped to her knees, her hands hit a step. Too weak and too scared, she teetered to her butt and fell to the concrete floor.

Chapter Four

By the time Bradley reached Divine’s stables, Cadence’s white BMW barreled out of the parking lot, gravel flying. He put Cimmerian in a stall and didn’t bother removing the saddle before racing to his truck and chasing after her.

Speeding over the mountain roads, he raced to the bar he had followed her to the other night. When he didn’t see her car at The Dusty Spur, he stomped on the gas. The next bar on this road was Talon’s Point. The paint-chipped building and unkempt grounds, with a variety of rough bikes parked out front that he’d seen on his drive to Divine, wreaked bad news. His stomach twisted into a knot.

He rounded the corner and spotted her car between bikes. “Damnit! He hit his fist against the wheel and skidded into the bar’s lot behind her car. A cloud of dirt formed, leaving a thin layer on the shiny metal. Moving on pure adrenaline, he climbed out and charged for the door. Wheels squealed, and a truck he’d seen at Divine darted off the road and slid to a stop next to his. A stern-faced Jace climbed out of the pickup, reached into the truck’s bed, and pulled out a bat. Without a word, he tossed it to Bradley. Another guy he vaguely remembered seeing at The Dusty Spur climbed out of the passenger side, a three-foot metal rod in his hand.
Damn!

He needed reinforcements. Giving each of the guys a glance and receiving head nods in return, he jerked open the door. Provocative music and heavy smog drifted out like the cloud of dirt his tires spun up from stopping short. Cigarette smoke and the scent of reefer followed.

Bradley stepped into the bar, squinted against the dim light, and scanned the area. The men and women stared at something on the stage. A silver pole flashed as a spotlight moved over it. Shifting, he glimpsed through bodies. Near the stairs leading to the stage, a figure curled in a ball, clutching his or her stomach. Dark silky hair fanned out around her.
Cadence.
His heart slammed against his ribs and blood rushed his ears. He didn’t have to get a clear view to know it was his Cadence. With a tight grip on his rod, he moved forward.

Men wearing leather jackets and gold chains turned and eyed them with suspicion. Their fingers rolled into their palms, displaying gold rings and brass knuckles.
Holy shit
. He gripped the metal tighter, ready to swing. He didn’t fight, but he’d do anything to protect Cadence.

A large-bellied man blocked Bradley’s path. His weather-worn skin, thick gold chains, and arrogant attitude gave the impression he was the leader. Maybe the guy would negotiate. Cadence for cash.
Crap!
Using money as a bargaining chip was out of the question. At least not the amount that would tempt them to leave Cadence alone, not like he used to have before he was disinherited.

The man closed one eye and perused Bradley, his attention landing on the rod in his hand. His eyes went wild. “Get ‘em!”

Fuck!

“Watch out!” Jace’s friend yelled. 

Water sprayed from overhead sprinklers in the ceiling and the music ceased.

A club struck Bradley’s side. He grunted off the pain and ducked, missing the next assault. The guy raised his arm, and Bradley swung. His bat hit the attacker’s legs, knocking his feet out from under him. He glanced up, looked around for Jace and his friend, and spotted them each combating more than one thug. Their keen precision and quick reflexes reminded him more of military than street fighters.

A mug flew through the air. A fist followed. Bradley stumbled backwards from the blow to his face, regained his footing, and slammed his bat into the guy’s flabby gut. A “Mother-fucker” rolled out of the overweight biker then a thud.

Bradley turned. More leather-clad brutes appeared like ants crawling out of an anthill. They just kept coming.

“Son of a bitch!” Jace’s friend’s deep voice radiated with pain as a fist connected with Bradley’s jaw. The metallic taste of blood lined his mouth as he launched himself at the guy, readying to swing a metal rod at his head.

Gunfire exploded, ringing his ears. He crouched behind an upended table and eyed the door.

“Get the fuck out!” From behind the bar, a tall, burly man in a sleeveless shirt, exposing an American eagle on his shoulder, held a rifle in front of him. “Now!” His glare backed up his order. “Take the girl and don’t come back!” he said with a growl.

Bradley dragged his hand across his eyes, met Jace and his friend’s firm expression, and went toward the stage. Battered bikers fixed their jackets and straightened their chains as water, sweat, and blood dripped off their faces. None of them moved. In shock, he raced to Cadence and knelt beside her. “Cadence,” he said, speaking softly and pressing two fingers to her neck and felt the steady beat of her pulse. A vice-like squeezed his chest.

“Sweetheart.”

She moaned. Inescapable, gut-wrenching pain slithered through him. “Let’s get you out of here.” He lifted her against his chest and rose. Jace grabbed the bat he had dropped, and he and his friend flanked his sides as they made quick work to get out of the bar.

“Garth, take my truck to Divine,” Jace ordered his friend as he opened Bradley’s passenger door. “I’ll get her car.”

After settling Cadence into the truck, he flipped on the heat, and tugged an emergency blanket from under the seat. He covered her with it and kissed her damp cheek. It nearly killed him seeing her look so weak and helpless. “Where’s the closest hospital?”

Jace shook his head. “A ways out. Travis’ girlfriend will tend to her.”

“She’s a vet not a doctor.”

“She can handle it. Go there.” Jace ordered him as if he were the superior and Bradley the grunt. “We need to get the hell out of here before Eagle can’t hold the roaches off.”

Whoever Jace was, he made sense. Behind the wheel, Bradley followed Jace’s friend Garth, with Jace bringing up the rear in Cadence’s BMW.

“I’m toxic.” The ache in her words emphasized how low she thought of herself and stilled his heart. How had she gotten to this point? “You should have left me. I’m no good.”

Why had he listened to her the day she told him to leave her hospital room? “Stop the crazy talk.” He gripped the wheel tighter as he took a curve too fast.

“Not crazy.” She smacked her lips together as if her mouth was dry. “It’s the truth.”

The normal ten-minute car ride turned to five, and stayed silent as he passed the last of Divine’s customers leaving the lot. He stopped several spaces away from where Garth parked and hopped out of his truck.

Every muscle in Bradley’s body tensed; every nerve smarted. The self-destructive shit was gonna stop. He slammed his door, plucked his wet shirt away from his chest, and rounded the front of his truck. Telling people what they can or cannot do wasn’t his thing, but enough was enough. He’d be damned if he would lose her. Pain radiated through him like an electric shock. He braced a hand on the hood and sucked in a deep breath. “Ain’t no way in hell I’m gonna lose her,” he muttered.

“Cadence!” Trina screeched, rushing over from Divine with Matt and Travis leading.

“Stay back!” His eyes stung and his chest felt like a vice grip ripped it open. “Let me do what I need to do. Alone.”

Trina’s eyes widened, but she didn’t argue. She nodded and turned to Garth. “What happened?”

“Inside,” Matt said, his tone firm and calm as he slid a hand around his wife. “I don’t think you want to listen to the tough love Bradley is about to dish out.”

“I don’t,” Jace said, climbing out of Cadence’s car.

Autumn rushed over. Her keen eyes absorbed the marks on him, and she peeked in the truck’s front window. “Do you need me?”

“Later.”

She nodded. “I’ll get my stuff.”

Adrenaline shot through his body; he didn’t know if the metallic taste in his mouth came from blood or being pissed. The pasty substance on his cheek was a different story. “Possibly a suture kit.”

“Got it.” She jogged past Trina and halted in front of Garth and Jace. “Looks like I got things to do while I wait.”

“Were you all in a brawl?” Matt wrapped his arm tighter around his wife. “And why are you wet?”

“The ceiling sprinklers were on,” Jace informed. “Someone must have flicked a lighter near them. I didn’t smell smoke.”

“Probably thought the water would slow down the commotion,” Matt offered.

“What do the other guys look like?” Travis’ voice faded as the group turned the corner.

Bradley waited for the sound of a door closing before he approached Cadence. The pink in her face came back, but a ghostlike expression stayed in place. He rested his hands on either side of the open door, blocking a possible escape. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?” he snipped, not caring if she did get pissed. He was furious. “Did you want to get gang raped?” Spitting out the words stole his breath.
What if I hadn’t gotten to her in time?
His head dropped on its own accord, his chin hitting his chest, and he squeezed his eyes shut as the horrible possibilities raced through his mind like a tornado. “I could have lost you.” He whispered on a pained breath. “I could have fucking lost you.”

She remained silent. The only clue she heard him were the tears welling in her eyes.

“As of right now, you are no longer allowed to make your own decisions. You will not go anywhere without my approval. That means no more nights out and no more being alone. Hell, you won’t be allowed to take a crap on your own without me in your face.”

****

Cadence had listened to Bradley’s gruff tone and his controlling words enough. She tossed off the blanket and jumped out of the truck, glad to have her bearings back. “No, you don’t get a say over me. You can’t tell me what I can and cannot do!”

His eyes narrowed, one eye closing more than the other. “I was wrong to walk away from you at the hospital, and I was a son of a bitch to walk away from you earlier today, but I’m not a bastard. I will not let the woman I love kill herself. No longer will I listen to your request for me to stay away.”

The never-ending tears stopped. The air around them stiffened as everything he said slipped out of her mind, except for one word. “Love?”

He moved closer, wedged her between him and the truck. “Yeah dammit, I do, and it’s about time you got on board.” His breath wisped over her face and neck, bringing energy to her weary body and giving her tired heart a lilt. “We’re gonna take this slow, real slow.”

Bradley had a way of righting her world, but was she repairable?

“You’re a survivor. What you’re going through now is an annoyance. It’s not who you are.” He paused, evidently waiting for her to take that in. “So, here’s the deal. You will not leave my side. You will talk to me. You will tell me whatever negative thoughts you have going through that pretty head of yours.” He stroked a hand down the side of her. “And Cadence, you
will
come back to me.”

“Come back to you?” She never left him—denied herself of something wonderful, yes, but she didn’t leave him. Not in her heart. Yet she asked a question that she didn’t have a firm grasp on. “In order for me to come back, that implies I was yours.” She did the stalling act and swallowed. “Was I?”

He tugged her to him, until her cheek touched his chest, and slid his hand down the length of hair, caressing her as if she were a piece of delicate silk. She closed her eyes and savored his comforting touch.

They stayed this way for minutes, maybe longer, before he grasped her arms and eased her away from him and brushed his lips over hers. “To answer your question, when you can answer that on your own, let me know.”

Wait. Why didn’t he answer her? Why talk in circles? “I don’t understand.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and she closed her eyes. “When you kiss me because you want to, because you can’t get enough of me, and no one else’s company will do, then sweetheart, let me know so I can kiss you the way you deserve.” His finger touched her lips. “There.” His finger lowered to her heart. “And there, and all of your other delectable parts.”

He had a way of putting things into perspective.

“For now, I need Autumn.”

“Huh?”

He pressed his fingers to the side of his face, held them up, and showed her his reddened knuckles. She’d been so self-absorbed, she hadn’t noticed. “Jeez, I’m a cold-hearted bitch. I’m sorry.” She gripped his elbow and led him toward the house. “You should have gotten this taken care of before lecturing me.”

“You’re more important.”

Her heart swelled. The Lovett siblings were something else. No one made her feel special like Bradley and Trina did, especially him. He penetrated the rough, gloomy edges of her heart and brought a light to her darkened soul.

****

Showered, bandaged, and ready to fall into bed, he slipped on pajama pants that he rarely wore. Fighting of any kind wasn’t Bradley’s forte. He didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it, but he would never stand idle when someone was in danger, especially not someone he cared for and loved so deeply.

He opened the door next to the bathroom, Cadence’s bedroom. When he informed her he wouldn’t let her out of his sight, he wasn’t kidding. Moonlight shone over the room, shadows swirled and dipped, highlighting Cadence’s form beneath the comforter.