Storm Front (5 page)

Tessa’s insides turned to mush. Yep, some strong pheromones the man had.

Earl swept a hand over Riley’s head as it lay against Tessa’s breast. His fingers lingered over the upper curve of her breast for a split second before he straightened and then walked back to the stove. His movements reminded her of a giant, predatory cat. Not an image she needed right now.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the comfortable cushioned bench seat. The warmth and smells of the kitchen and the sweet powdery scent of the baby lying safely in her arms lulled her into a half-awake, half-asleep state in which she dreamed of what might have been if she hadn’t been stolen by evil.

* * * *

9:45 a.m.

Earl prepped a salad for lunch to go with the soup and chili Tessa had started. He’d been furious with her when he’d come into the kitchen and found her still on her feet and working when she needed to be horizontal in a bed.

Tessa had barely been able to stand without swaying. Plus, she hadn’t even eaten. Yeah, the little darling needed a keeper.

So, he fed her. He liked feeding her. The oatmeal and juice had helped to bring some color back to her face. She’d been ashy under her beautiful, exotic skin tones. She was a perfect mix of Asian and European genetics and appealed to him in every way, even her mule-headedness.

It would take a stubborn woman to stand up to him on a day-to-day basis.

Earl chanced a glance at the nook area and smiled. She was asleep. She’d snuggled into the corner of the seating area and had Riley securely in her arms, lying against her full breasts. Breasts made for nursing babies, breasts made for his mouth—not necessarily in that order.

Hell yeah, he could see a dark-haired son with exotic skin tones cuddled against Tessa’s naked chest. Before that dream could happen, though, he needed to convince her she was meant to be his. But she was skittish with whatever in the hell was bothering her. He might be ready, but she wasn’t.

“Tessa’s asleep.” Tweeter, Keely’s youngest and favorite brother, spoke from the entry to the kitchen. He sniffed the air and grimaced. “I think my nephew needs a diaper change, and Tessa needs a bed. What are we gonna do about that?”

“You can take diaper duty.” Earl turned down the soups to the lowest setting and took the stock pot off the stove to let it cool a bit before he skimmed it once more and put it in the professional-sized refrigerator. They wouldn’t use all the stock for the risotto Tessa had planned, and he could make a chicken noodle soup for tomorrow’s lunch. Weather report had no one leaving Sanctuary until at least late Wednesday evening. “I’ll tuck Tessa into bed. And steal her laptop so if she wakes up she won’t be tempted to work instead of getting some rest.”

Tweeter snickered. “You’ll be in big trouble. No one touches Tessa’s laptop.”

“She’ll deal.” Earl took off the apron and laid it on the island. He walked quietly to the table. Tweeter followed. “I’ll hand off the little guy to you, okay?”

“Gotcha.” Tweeter pulled the table out so Earl could get to the two who slept the deep sleep of innocents.

Though, Tessa slept with a slight frown on her forehead and lips. What in the hell was bothering her? He really hoped it was a man, so he could punch someone’s lights out. If it were something to do with her books—he wasn’t sure what he could do to fix things, but he would damn well at least be a sounding board. Help her talk things through.

He gently tugged Riley away from Tessa. The baby’s blue eyes had popped open upon hearing his Uncle Tweeter’s voice. The little guy smiled and gurgled at Earl. Once Earl had the little guy in his arms, Riley patted Earl’s scruffy jaw, and his tiny body wiggled with joy.

God, he wanted a son, or a daughter, but only if Tessa were the mother. Yeah, Cupid Callie had filled his hide with arrows, but instincts as old as time had him yearning for a child of his own.

“Here, take the stinky little guy.” He handed Riley to Tweeter, who expertly cuddled his nephew. Earl snagged the diaper bag from the bench seat and put it over Tweeter’s shoulder. “You good?”

“Got it. Now put Tessa to bed. I don’t think she’s slept since she arrived. Too much excitement … and something’s bothering her. She’s been quieter than normal.” Tweeter turned to go, then paused and looked over the shoulder the bag hung on. “This might be out of line, but bring her laptop back here. Keely told me Tessa had mentioned to Callie she’d been getting some e-mails that bothered her. Keely offered SSI’s help, but Tessa ignored her and changed the topic. My sis backed off, but came to the Bat Cave and asked me to get Tessa to accept my help. Want to see what’s going on?”

Earl grunted. “Fuck yeah. Her phone’s on the island. Check it out too. She’s been getting a lot of text messages and calls that are upsetting her. I’ll take the flack if Tessa gets pissed.” He looked at her, still leaning against the bench seat, sound asleep. She was so tired she hadn’t even roused when he’d picked up the baby. “What if she erased the e-mails? The text messages?”

Tweeter looked somewhat insulted. “Damn, Earl, dontcha know? Nothing’s ever
gone
gone, especially for someone like me or Keely. If there’s someone cyberstalking Tessa, I’ll find evidence of it.”

“Don’t need to know. Got you to do the geek work. I’ll meet you back here as soon as I get sleeping beauty put to bed.”

Earl leaned over and easily picked up Tessa. She was lighter than many of the packs he used to carry in the Army, but what weight she did have was in all the right places. She muttered something, but snuggled into him and sighed without waking up.

He carried her out of the kitchen and took the back stairs to the second level. Her room was two doors away from his. He nudged her door farther open with his foot.

Once in the room, he carried her to the bed. The bed was undisturbed. Just as he’d thought, she’d never gone to bed last night. He glanced at the desk in the room and found the task light on and her laptop open.

“Little fool,” he muttered against her sweet-smelling hair. “What are you trying to do? Work yourself to death?”

Holding her, he bent and hooked the quilt in his fingers, dragged back the comforter, and placed her on the sheets. He removed her slippers and pulled the cover over her.

Tessa immediately turned onto her side and curled into a fetal position. Her ponytail tempted him, and he gently removed the torture device holding her hair up and stroked his fingers through the long, silky tresses. She moaned low in her throat, but didn’t wake. He wondered if she moaned the same way when a man stroked her during foreplay.

The thought of another man making love to her, making her utter sexy little sounds, had him snarling. No other man would ever touch her again if he had anything to say about it.

Earl stopped stroking his fingers through her hair. He moved away and stood for several seconds, staring at her as she slept and fighting the urge to strip to his skin and crawl in next to her. He forced himself to turn his back on the temptation Tessa presented and stalked to the desk. He unplugged the laptop. It now ran on battery, but in sleep mode. He took the cord with him in case they needed it.

He’d let Tweeter do his magic. Earl, while not cyber-savvy, did recognize people like Tweeter, Keely, and Callie could do amazing things. If some fucker was stalking and terrorizing Tessa over the Internet or the phone, the bastard was as good as caught and in jail—after Earl paid a visit to the asshole first, of course.

10:00 a.m.

Leaving Tessa sound asleep, Earl left the room and shut her door. Retracing his steps, he entered the kitchen to find Tweeter waiting on him, along with Evan and his lover, Chad. Evan looked better than he had last night when he’d retreated to his room with symptoms of altitude sickness. Chad looked tired and hungry. Must have been a rough night for both of the men.

“Hey, Evan. Chad. Do you want something to eat? Lunch won’t be served for another two hours or so. I can make oatmeal, homemade, not instant. Or maybe toast and tea?” Earl placed Tessa’s computer and its cord in front of Tweeter, who already had Tessa’s phone in front of him. “Here, do your thing.”

Evan frowned at the sight of the laptop, while Chad answered Earl’s questions. “We’ll take the oatmeal and some juice. Evan also could use some more acetaminophen. We ran out.”

“That’s Tessa’s laptop and cell.” Evan looked at Earl and then Tweeter, accusation in his voice and gaze. “Why do you have her laptop, and where’s my girl?”

Logical questions, but Tessa was now Earl’s. Probably not the time to make that claim, though. He needed her to accept the new reality first.

“Tessa told Callie, who told Keely, she’s having some trouble with a cyberstalker,” Earl explained as he put water on to boil and pulled out the steel-cut oats to make the oatmeal. “Tessa’s upstairs sleeping. She’s exhausted. Since I’m darn sure it isn’t a book deadline keeping her awake, Tweeter and I are going to see how bad the cyberstalking is and do something about it. You got a problem with that?”

Earl turned and glared at the couple, daring them to challenge him. He was surprised to see twin smiles of delight and what he read as relief on their handsome faces. He grunted with satisfaction and added the oats to the boiling water.

“Thank the Lord!” Evan looked to the ceiling. “Finally, a man who cares enough to take care of Tessa and not use her as arm candy or for sex or for her money and fame.”

“Amen,” Chad chimed in.

Tweeter said nothing. In fact the atmosphere in the large kitchen had gotten, for lack of a better word, ominous as the computer expert’s face grew darker and darker. Keely’s normally good-natured brother looked furious enough to kill.

“Tweeter? Talk to me, man.” Earl divided his attention between cooking oats and the men at the breakfast nook. After several seconds without a response, he snarled, “Tweeter, what the fuck is wrong?”

Evan had scooted closer to the laptop to look at the screen. His face turned white and then flamed red. “Goddammit to hell and back! I thought this part of her life was over.” The man responsible for Tessa being who and what she was today turned to Chad. “Look, love. Look at what they did to our baby girl.”

Chad leaned across and instantly went ashen. He looked at Evan and Tweeter and then looked toward Earl. “God, we knew it had been bad. We went to the counseling sessions with her. Tessa had nightmares for years. But this? Hell, she kept
this
inside? I’ll kill the bastard.” He struck the table with his fist.

What the fuck?

Earl turned off the oatmeal and made it to the table in less than a second. “Show me.”

Tweeter looked up and shook his head. “It’s bad. God, it’s bad.” He turned to Evan, “Why didn’t Callie tell us? We’ve known Tessa for years.”

Evan shook his head. “Tessa didn’t tell Callie or the twins. Didn’t want them to know what had happened to her, where she’d come from. So we made up the story about abusive parents and running away from home. God, it was so much worse.” He waved a hand at the laptop. “It’s obvious she didn’t share it all with us or the therapist, either.”

As Tweeter scrolled through the images and played portions of the videos, Earl’s breath stilled and his heart pounded as adrenaline flooded his system.

The pictures and videos were of a younger Tessa. Bound. Naked. Bloodied. Screaming. The images grew worse as she grew older in the horror montage. Gang rape. Whippings. Sodomy. Forced oral sex.

Earl’s gut roiled, and the pressure from holding back his rage, from reining in the need to fight, threatened to blow the top of his head off—then the worst occurred.

What the—?

Earl covered Tweeter’s hand and paused the image on the screen. That couldn’t be true. He looked more closely. Hooded asshole. Hot iron. Close up of Tessa’s naked bottom. Then—

His fury exploded. “Cocksuckingnmotherfuckingsonofabitch. The bastard branded her. Hurt her. Fucking laughed as he did so. The fucker’s dead. They’re dead. Every. Fucking. One of them.”

He let out a roar, turned, and hit the wall with his fist. And then he did it again … and again, shouting “fuck” with each and every punch. The wall buckled and dry wall dust floated on the air as he gave his fury and horror at what he’d seen full rein.

“Stop it, Earl.” Tweeter halted Earl’s arm in mid-punch. “Don’t break your hand—you’ll need it for when I find the piece of shit fucktard who sent these to Tessa.”

Earl shook Tweeter’s arm off. “Yeah, find him. Find him fast.”

He breathed through the madness and focused on containing an anger unlike any he’d ever felt before. He’d thought he’d seen the worst of man’s depravity toward man in war zones, but this … this … fuck. The bastards hurt her … no, he couldn’t think about it. He couldn’t erase what happened to her in the past. But he could stop anything similar happening in her future. He needed to stay in control and do what needed to be done to get the fucker who stalked her out of her life.

Earl slid onto the bench seat next to Tweeter who’d begun to do something to the e-mails containing the images.

“What are you doing?” He didn’t recognize his own voice; it was low and feral, animalistic.

“Sending all this to my computer in the Bat Cave.” Tweeter looked around the table and smiled, an almost evil look. “I’ll have the fucker’s name and address by lunchtime. Then we’ll go get the sick asshole and find out where he got the images, who the sickos are in them, and who took them.”

Chad coughed. Evan looked even paler.

“You know who took the pictures,” Earl said. “Who filmed her, don’t you?”

Evan nodded and his breath hitched. “The people who took her and some other girls from an orphanage in Shanghai and smuggled them into the United States. They were sex traffickers.”

“Jesuschristfuckingsonuvabitch.” Earl clenched and unclenched his hands. He ignored the pain in his right hand, which was swollen and bruised from hitting the wall. He really wanted to hit the wall some more, but Tweeter had made a valid point—he might need the hand later to beat up the cyberstalker and the people who’d violated Tessa.