Too Close To The Fire/Too Hot To Handle (Montana Men 3) (26 page)

Smitt
yanked off her shoes and socks, then jerked off her jeans and panties. Lacey
groaned. Her chest burned. Her shoulder throbbed. Blood covered her breasts and
belly. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. Why was it so hard to think?
“Please! I’m…begging…you! Don’t hurt my baby!”

“Shut
the fuck up, bitch! See this knife? You make another sound, I’ll scalp you
alive! Don’t fuck with me. Keep your mouth shut and open your legs. Wide.”

Lacey
closed her eyes. She ordered herself to pay no heed to his crude touches, to
ignore his fingers gliding over her breasts, but she couldn’t. His every caress
chilled her to the bone and turned the blood in her veins to slush. He dragged
the cold edge of the knife across her vulnerable midriff. The wintry bite of
icy steel cut through the tender layers of her skin. Her body jerked in
reaction to the slow drag of the knife across her belly. “Please! Oh, God.
Stop!”

Lacey
felt out of control, like a puppet whose string had been cut so its arms and
legs flopped uselessly.

Smitt
popped her across the mouth with the back of his hand. “Open your fucking legs
or I’ll cut you deeper next time!”

Sobbing,
Lacey obeyed. Her body shook with tiny convulsions. He jerked her legs wider
apart and stared.
“Oooooweee,
girl,
you got one sweet looking pussy. I can’t wait to stick my buddy in it, give him
his share of the fun.”

She
retched when she saw the shiny, wet head of his cock. He rubbed the purple knob
with his thumb tip. “Will you look at that? See that? See how you done got me
all excited here? Girl, I done got me some love juice rising to the top of my
dick.”

Lacey
bucked and tried to wriggle away from him. The hard punch to her face stunned
her. She lay there gasping, too numb to move. Her ears rang. Her vision
blurred, and her lips felt as if they’d been stung by bees. She thought he
punched her again just for the pleasure it gave him to inflict pain. She felt
her lower lip split. Tasted blood.

“I
told you no screaming! You best be still, missy, and keep quiet. I ain’t gonna
stick it in
you
right this minute. No, I wanna play
first, maybe titty fuck you once or twice. I just wanna good feel of your pussy
first, stick my finger in you, get the hot, wet feel of you, so relax.”

He
jabbed his finger deep inside her. Lacey screamed. The sound sounded faint and
mewling to her ears. He jabbed his finger deeper and laughed.
“Oooh,
you sweet, sweet angel. That’s
the hottest snatch I’ve felt in a long time. Jesus, it makes a man wanna fuck
you all right. Open your legs wider, girl. Wider!”

Smitt
placed one hand flat on her belly, right at her pubic bone, and pressed hard—he
pushed two fingers deep inside her. What was he doing? It felt as if he were
scraping her womb raw. It hurt. Oh, how it hurt, and it hurt worse than either
gunshot wound or the blows to her face.

Cramps
tore through her stomach. She tried to lift her head, but simply couldn’t find
the strength. He removed his fingers and slowly inserted something else inside
her. She whimpered as he worked it deep inside her, then pulled it out, only to
shove it deeper inside her again and again.

Dear
God, what was he using on her? Something solid and hard. He kept thrusting it
inside her. The more he did it, the more ragged his breaths became. He pressed
harder on her belly, shoved the instrument harder and deeper over and over.

Lacey
cried out as pain crawled through her belly. She wasn’t sure he could
accomplish what he’d set out to do, but the blood in her veins froze as it
suddenly dawned on her what he was doing.

This
wasn’t a sex game he was playing with her. This was something much, much worse.
“Oh, God, don’t! What are you trying to do?”

“I’m
not
trying
, Lacey, darling. I’m doing
it. Gotta get this kid outta you. It ain’t my brat,” he said in a merciless
tone.

“No,”
she protested weakly. “Don’t hurt my baby.”

Smitt
wiped a bloody hand across her belly. “It’s done. No more baby, sweet angel.
You’re bleeding, girlie.
Oooooweee,
you’re bloody as a cut pig.”

Tears
tracked down the corners of her eyes. Splinters of ice settled deep in her
bones. Chills crawled down her spine and around in her gut. She felt herself
drifting as wave after wave of cramps seized her.

Nothing
stopped him. He defiled her with his touch—wholly destroyed her soul. He
grunted and probed inside her, then set a rhythm with whatever it was he was
using on her. She wanted to fight him, struggled to get away, but she knew
there was no escape. Lacey felt the bite of the knife across her stomach again
and again.

“Mmm.
Relax. Relax, Lacey, darling. Those are just little cuts. I ain’t got to the
good stuff, yet. I like taking my time, and this is going to take awhile.”

Think
of something else. It’s only your body. Only your body.

Lacey sobbed.

He
can’t destroy what you have with Rafe.

Hot tears slid down her face and into her
mouth.

Yes,
he could. And he would. He’d take everything
.

Her strength waned. Pain closed around her
until there was nothing else.

Don’t
let him see you cry. Don’t cry. You’re tough, Lacey. You can bear the pain.
Fight. Fight!

Tired. So tired. She tried to focus on other
things as he grunted over her. Then the oddest sound penetrated the fog in her
head. A squeal? Then several high-pitched grunts, ragged breaths, wheezes, and
another high-pitched wail.

He
was squealing?

Why
would he squeal like a pig? What?

Something
warm dripped onto her breasts and slithered across her throat. Dear God,
what—he was—she gagged. His semen jetted in several warm bursts onto her
breasts. It slid across her nipples and oozed toward her neck. She retched and
retched again.

“I’m
coming for you, Lacey, feel me coming for you, Lacey?”

Abruptly
he fell on top of her, his chest heaving with the harsh breaths he sucked into
his lungs. “Ahh, that felt good, Lacey, darling, real good. The head of my cock
went off like a fucking geyser. I shot a big load on your belly and tits. Mmmm.
Mmmm. It eased the pressure on my balls a little. Now we can relax and take our
time.”

Lacey
felt the tip of his wet cock straining against her belly. Then higher.

“Ooooweee.
I’m still hard, Lacey,
darling. There’s something about doing the sheriff’s wife that makes me rock
hard.” He mashed her breasts together, slid his cock between them and thrust
back and forth. “Gonna give you the titty fucking I promised you. I’ll be
coming for you again real soon.”

She
didn’t know how many hours he grunted and sweated over her. Time seemed to
stand still. Her mind blurred, and she drifted in and out of consciousness.

Occasionally,
his harsh breathing and choked words penetrated the haze in her head. “I smell
my scent on you.” He lifted his head, curled his fingers around one of her
breasts and squeezed it. “Mmm. Not much fight left in you, woman. Once I do a
little whittlin’, it always takes the fight out of the bitch. It won’t take me
long to get bored with you, Lacey, darling, and then I’ll kill you.”

Lacey
closed her eyes. Shut out his voice. She focused her attention on the sounds
around her. Was that Joseph crying? Screaming?

Please,
God. Don’t let him hurt my son. Please. Please. He’s all I have left. Don’t let
him hurt my baby.

“Lacey?
Why is Joseph screaming? Where are you?”

Lacey
swallowed back the utter dryness that coated her throat, the pain, the fear.
She didn’t have enough spit to dampen her tongue. Her mouth worked, but she
couldn’t form the words to scream, to tell Anna Leigh to run.

The
monster tormenting her pressed his palm over her mouth. “Ssh. Make a sound,
I’ll slit your throat.” He punished her left breast in warning.

Smitt
rose to his feet, grabbed the gun off the table and waited for Danger’s sister
to make her appearance. “Aw, this just isn’t the sheriff’s lucky day,” he
whispered.

“Lacey?
Are you here?”

“Run,
Anna,” Lacey screamed, but it was already too late. Anna Leigh stepped into the
kitchen. Smitt’s mouth split into a wide grin, macabre and evil, and he
squeezed the trigger.

The
startled look on Anna’s face froze in place. She gasped, staggered back,
crashed into the wall and slid to the floor. Smitt stood over her, ready to
pull the trigger again, but she didn’t move.

He
stared at the crimson stain blooming across her midriff and lifted a brow. “Gut
shot. Perfect. The bitch will lie there for hours before she dies.”

He
walked to Lacey and picked up the knife. “You’re gonna pay for screaming a
warning to her, bitch! I told you plain, no screaming. I know how to make you
bleed and bleed and take forever to die, Lacey, darling.” He grinned. “Fun
time. Fun time. Yeah, me and my buddy, we’re gonna have lots of fun.”

Chapter Fifteen

No
cord or cable can draw so forcibly, or bind so fast, as love can do with a
single thread.

~Robert
Burton

Davis
Property

February 7, Saturday

8:00 a.m.

Duel
barely landed the helicopter before Rafe unbuckled his safety belt and bailed
out. He took off, his long legs eating up the snow-covered ground.

Killing
the engine, Duel grabbed the coil of rope off the backseat. “Be careful, Rafe,”
he said, joining him at the well site. “Don’t step on the boards. They’re
rotted.”

Rafe
squatted down and started yanking the boards off the top of the old well.
“Lacey! Sweetheart! Are you down there? Jesus, I can’t
fucking
see down there.”

No
reply.

“God
damn it!” Rafe flung another board out of the way. “She has to be here. Please,
God. Let her be here. Let her be alive. Lacey! Sweetheart. Answer me.”

Duel
hunkered down beside him. “Rafe. Slow down.”

“I
don’t have time to slow down. If she’s down there and—”

“I
know. Don’t you think I know? If she’s…dead, we need to preserve the scene. If
she’s alive, we don’t need you falling apart, falling in, or getting hurt. So,
slow
down. If she’s down there, man, she
needs you, and she needs you calm.”

Rafe
nodded and peeled board by board off until he tossed the last one out of the
way. “The fucker nailed the lid shut on her. If she’d been able to climb up to
the top, she still wouldn’t have been able to get out,” he said, his voice
shaking. “He’s a monster, a cold blooded monster.”

They
peered over the edge.

“Oh,
Jesus,” Rafe whispered. “She’s here! Thank God. Thank God.
Lacey!”

“She
isn’t moving.”

“Give
me the rope, Duel.”

Duel
helped knot the rope around Rafe’s waist. “Take it slow and easy. I don’t want
to have to rescue you because of a cave-in.”

Rafe
nodded and started scaling down the side of the steep wall. “It’s slick. The
walls have thawed just enough to be muddy.” He glanced down to judge the
distance.
“
Lacey! Honey, answer me!” His
heart grabbed. He couldn’t see her now, not at the angle he was forced to
descend. Her silence scared him to death. “Please,” he whispered. “Please.
Please, be alive.”

Rafe
swore it took forever to reach the bottom, and when his boots touched ground,
he fell to his knees beside Lacey’s curled body. His gloved hands shook as he
reached for her. God. She was so still.

He
couldn’t hear her breathing.

He
didn’t think she was breathing.

Tearing
off his leather gloves, he touched her bare shoulder. Her skin looked pale and
icy. “Lacey?” he whispered her name. “I’m here, baby.”

He
gently turned her in his arms. Her head lolled to one side against his chest. Her
left palm splayed opened, and he saw the heart and chain, the necklace he’d
given her for Christmas. He swallowed hard. Her lifeline. Thank God he’d given
her something to hold on to. “Aw, sweetheart.” He eased it from her hand and
slipped it inside his shirt pocket. His heart squeezed—a solid pain in his
chest. “Baby, please. I don’t think I told you…I don’t remember…” He ignored
the tears blinding his vision. “I love you, Lace. I want you to know that. I
love you. I’ve always loved you. Please, sweetheart, open your eyes.”

Dried
blood covered her from her head to her bare toes. Quickly he jerked off his
denim jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Lacey? Sweetheart. Open your
eyes, baby. Damn it, you can’t die. I’m not finished with you yet.” He heard
her feeble sigh, felt her delicate shudder. A frail gasp. “Oh, God, baby. Can
you talk to me?”

Her eyelids
fluttered, then opened. Tears rolled down her cheeks mixing with the mud and
the blood. She reached for him, slid an icy hand along his cheek. “What…took…you…so…long?”
Her hand dropped to her side. “So…cold.”

“
Duel,
”
Rafe yelled. “Drop me a blanket. Hurry.”

Lacey
shuddered. “Lost…our…baby.”

Rafe
ignored the tears sliding down his face. He cleared his throat, but it still
felt rough and raw. “I know, sweetheart.” He busied himself wrapping the
blanket around her. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“Didn’t…think…you
wanted…our baby.”

Rafe
froze. “Oh, God, Lace, as hard as I worked to make sure you got pregnant, how
could you think I didn’t want our baby? I could have protected you. I bought
the fucking box of rubbers, but I…hell, I couldn’t think about anything other
than putting my baby in you. I wanted to bind you to me forever. I still do.”
He tucked the blanket around her shoulders and under her chin. “It wasn’t until
you refused to go to Texas with me I realized you weren’t ready for a baby with
me. I decided you needed time, but don’t for a minute think I didn’t want our child
or you. I want you in my life, and any babies we might make in the future.”

“I’m…sorry.”

Rafe
stilled. “For what, honey?”

“Losing…baby.
Tried…fight him. Too…strong. Wanted…baby.”

He
held her close in his arms and brushed her damp, tangled hair from her face.
“Me, too, Lace. I’m going to get you outta here, sweetheart. Get help. Hold on.
Don’t give up. I want to make lots of babies with you. Will you marry me? I
love you, Lace. Say you’ll marry me.”

“Yes…marry…you.”
Her breath escaped in a soft sigh. Her head lolled lifelessly against his chest
and her eyelids fluttered closed.

“I’m
holding you to that, Lace,” he whispered. “Just as soon as I can arrange it,
I’m holding you to your word. You’re going to be my wife.”