Lone Rider (13 page)

What had she gotten into? Snake was a murderer, but clearly Bogen authorized it. How many cars and bodies lined the bottom of
Lake
Summer
?

             
Would
Dallas
learn about Michaels’ death at this meeting? How would he react? She felt certain
Dallas
wouldn’t sanction murder. That didn’t necessarily mean he’d turn against Bogen and Snake though.
Or did it
?

She recalled
Dallas
’ warning against letting anyone know her secrets. The more she thought about it
,
the more it seemed
that
Dallas
, for whatever reason, was indeed trying to protect her. But just how far would he go for her? And how far was she willing to go to test it?

             
She shifted positions, recoiling when one of the cuffs chafed against a sore spot on her wrist. She grimaced
,
seeing the raw skin. After
Dallas
left, she’d tried in earnest to break free. She had pulled and tugged, determined to squeeze one of her hands through the opening. It had proved futile. Her flesh gave way more readily th
a
n stainless steel.

             
She tensed when she heard a noise at the front door. Someone was entering the cabin. Please, if it wasn’t the sheriff, let it be
Dallas
. Pure, choking dread rose in her throat at the thought of Snake or Duke finding her like this.

Chained.

Helpless.

She held her breath as the bedroom door opened slowly.

“Miss me?”  The quip died on his lips as
Dallas
took in her obvious distress.

Moving to the bed he unshackled her. Her wrist bled where she’d tried to escape the cuff. Damn it, didn’t she know she couldn’t force them open?

But could he blame her for trying?

He tossed the cuffs on the floor, silently cursing the circumstances that required their use. Sitting beside her, he gently pulled her arm forward to examine it.

             
She reacted violently, swinging her other arm. “Let me go!” she shrieked, launching herself at him, raking his cheek with her nails. “You have no right--”

             
Dallas
responded without thought, flipping her onto her back and quickly pinning her to the bed, allowing her to vent her frustrations by struggling uselessly beneath him.

             
Within moments she settled, turning her face away, eyes closed. He could feel her tremble as she wept.

             
For the first time since getting involved with Bogen,
Dallas
questioned his course of action. God, he didn’t want to be a hero. This slip of a woman had cracked his tough façade, made him want to forget about the others and focus only on her and her needs. Which he couldn’t allow himself to do. Not now, anyway.

The temptation to put her on his motorcycle and drive as fast and as far as he could was strong. But where would that leave the ten women Sanchez held captive? They deserved their freedom every bit as much as Tess. And if the cartel wasn’t stopped, how many others would be victimized?

             
“You can let me up.”  Tess’ voice sounded hoarse, but steady. “I won’t fight you again.”

             
Dallas
studied her, took in her puffy eyes and red-tipped nose. Her bottom lip quivered. The urge to kiss her was strong -- to kiss, to console. To hold her and make things right again. Instead he brushed his fingers lightly against her tear-stained cheek. She shivered with cold.

             
“Would you believe I’m more concerned that you don’t hurt yourself?”  In one smooth move he rolled onto his feet, leaving her alone in the bedroom.

             
Tess sat up, straightening her clothes. Before she could stand,
Dallas
returned carrying a first-
aid kit and a wet towel. Kneeling before her
,
he took one wrist. When she offered no resistance he gently bathed the abraded skin.

             
Tess recoiled, but not from his ministrations. His cheek sported two bloody welts where she’d scratched him. The sight appalled her. What had come over her? She’d never been violent a day in her life, had never physically hurt another person for any reason.

             
Until now.

Was this how it started? How violence begets more violence?

She reached out and gently touched his cheek, her hand shaking.

             
“I’m sorry I scratched you,” she whispered.

             
He stared at her a long moment, wishing he could kiss away the hurt, the anguish he saw in her eyes. Instead he looked away.

“I’m sorry for a lot of things, Tess. Most of which I don’t know how to fix right now.” 

             
An awkward silence ensued as
Dallas
smeared antiseptic cream on her wrist. When he finished, Tess picked up the foil tube, weighing it in her palm.

When
Dallas
started to stand, she stopped him. Very deliberately she smoothed a small amount of the antiseptic over his scraped cheeks. “If we’re both sorry, that’s a start.”

             
For a moment she thought she saw remorse race across his eyes. But just as quickly it disappeared, replaced by that odd, unreadable look she was coming to recognize.

Dallas
tugged her to her feet. “Come on, I’ll take you for a walk outside.”

*     *     *

             
The days settled into a routine, one indistinguishable from the next.
Dallas
fixed breakfast, then handcuffed her to the bed -- a stark reminder she was his prisoner. He stayed gone most of the day, never mentioning what he did or where he went. After the first week she quit asking. The second week was harder.

The notebook
Dallas
gave her was filled with half-finished jewelry sketches. Uncertainty prevented her from completing most of them, but that didn’t stop her from picking up the notebook daily to battle the nerve-wracking boredom.

Her thoughts remained a perpetual loop of brooding over the future and reliving the past. Did her family realize she’d been abducted yet? Did anyone even suspect she was missing?

She thought over
Dallas
’ warning about keeping her identity secret. Once the press learned that John Marsh’s daughter had been kidnapped it would make headlines
,
and Bogen would know who she was. In spite of his promises to protect her, could
Dallas
really protect her if Bogen ordered her killed?

Thankfully, she hadn’t had contact with any of the other gang members since that first day. Except in her recurring nightmares. Still
,
she worried every time
Dallas
left that he might not return. And what would happen to her then?

Every day that he handcuffed her to the bed was one more day she stayed alive. Had she been in anyone else’s keeping
,
she didn’t believe that would be true. And he went out of his way to see to her comfort. Left her extra pillows, wrapped cloth around her wrists to avoid chafing. Too bad he didn’t leave the key.

             
More and more she wondered what kind of person
Dallas
really was, how he came to be involved with Bogen. She found him an enigma. He didn’t seem to fit the mold of outlaw.

He hadn’t kissed her since that first day, though there had been several occasions when she thought he would. And more than once when she
had
wanted him to. He rose before she did every morning, but not in time to keep her from being aware of him.

There was no denying the physical attraction that existed between them, an attraction that seemed to flourish with the closeness of her captivity. He was her sole contact with the outside world
,
and she was dependent on him for virtually everything.

One night after supper, when she thought she would go crazy from not knowing about her family, Tess brought up the subject. The sun was fading
,
and she and Dallas were sitting outside on the porch steps.

“Do you know if my family is looking for me?”

The forlorn note in her voice tore at
Dallas
’ gut. He’d talked with Barry two days ago. The Marsh family had not filed a missing person report and was not expected to. Even though she’d been with him two weeks now, her family wouldn’t expect her back for several more. Barry decided not to jeopardize the situation by contacting her family and risking a leak to the press.

With Matt Michaels’ disappearance, the situation had grown even more volatile. Foul play was strongly suspected
,
and
Dallas
could not risk exposing himself by asking questions about Matt in
Jordan
or the other surrounding towns.

To do nothing frustrated him. Every day the trail of clues surrounding Matt’s disappearance grew colder. And
Dallas
knew Barry was every bit as exasperated.

The only good news was that Sanchez seemed ready to leave his Canadian stronghold. Barry anticipated making arrests soon
,
and then this house of cards would fall. In the meantime,
Dallas
’ primary objective was making sure Tess remained safe.

“I haven’t heard anything,”
Dallas
finally replied. “But news travels slow in this part of the country.”

Tess’ shoulders fell as she struggled against tears of self-pity. She supposed she should be grateful her situation hadn’t been jeopardized by public knowledge of her abduction. But that wasn’t much comfort. She wanted to be free.
Now.

“I wonder if I’ll ever see them again,” she whispered.

Not for the first time
he
wished he could tell her everything. Except that
changed nothing.  The cold, hard fact remained that if
Bogen learned
Dallas
’ true identity,
Dallas
was a dead man. He’d known that from the start. And
Tess woul
d end up in a shallow grave bes
ide him. After Bogen did God-kno
w
s
-what to her. Bogen had a cruel streak as wide as his ass.

He stood, gruffly pulling her to her feet, eager to change the subject, hoping to lighten the mood. “If you want to take a walk, let’s go.”

             
Dusk yielded slowly to darkness as
Dallas
and Tess walked in silence. She was still no closer to knowing that much about Bogen’s compound. On previous nights they’d walked the different paths through the woods, all of which seemed to circle back on each other and lead right back to his cabin. She suspected the camp had originally been designed that way to prevent little
S
couts from getting lost. She also suspected
Dallas
purposely selected this time of day to take her outside. In the growing darkness the paths appeared similar, which made it even more difficult to memorize their course.

Still, it felt good to be out and moving. A breeze rustled through the leaves causing her to wrap her arms around herself.

             
She walked without watching her surroundings and was startled when
Dallas
suddenly pulled her off the path and under the spreading branches of a weeping willow. Sliding a hand gently across her mouth, he whispered, “
ssshhhh
,” and pointed over her shoulder.

A short distance ahead, a doe and her twin fawns meandered along the path
,
spending the last quiet minutes of dusk foraging. Dipping its head beneath its mother’s belly, one fawn nursed, oblivious to the audience. Tess held her breath, enthralled by the sight. By the time the animals wandered off, she had a cramp in her neck from holding still.

             
Encircled by his arms, she turned, looking up at him. “They were so beautiful. And so close.”

             
Her words echoed his thoughts. She was so beautiful. And so close. Time and circumstance ceased to exist as he lightly drew her against his chest.

If it was a sin to want someone this bad
,
then he was damned. He ached with the rawness of desire, searching her eyes for a reason to stop...and finding none.

His mouth closed over hers, tentative at first, growing bolder when he met no resistance. He whispered her name
,
drawing her completely into his embrace. His fingers slid into her hair, pressing her scalp, holding her still as his tongue delved deeper.