Too Close To The Fire/Too Hot To Handle (Montana Men 3) (27 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Sex is one of
my downfalls. I get sex any way I can get it. If I have to force somebody to do
it, I do...I rape them; I’ve done that. I’ve killed animals to have sex with
them, and I’ve had sex while they’re alive.

Henry Lee
Lucas

(Serial
Killer)

Davis Property

February 7, Saturday

8:20 a.m.

From
his hiding place, Smitt Davis watched the chopper lift into the air and cussed
beneath his breath. “Fucking, nosy, interfering bastards! They’ll be sorry they
took her. She’s mine!”

He
coughed. The gunshot wound to his chest hurt like hell. The bullet was still
lodged inside him, but the bleeding had finally slugged to a stop and the site
had scabbed. Kaycee Remington had got him good, but by God, he wasn’t dead. He
was bruised and battered from going over that damn cliff, and he’d broken his
left wrist and three of his fingers.

Everyone
probably thought he was dead, believed the animals would take care of his
carcass, but he’d show them. He’d rise from the dead like a fucking spook. He’d
be back. His job wasn’t finished yet, but who the fuck was this new man in
Lacey darling’s life?

He
didn’t like him. A lawman. Yeah, he carried himself like a lawman, a tough one.

God
knew Smitt had little use for the law. He grinned. “No use for the law, none at
all.”

He
needed time to heal. Time to make new plans. Time to regain his strength. He
wanted his property back. He wanted Lacey darling back. She belonged to him now.
No one took what he’d claimed.

Smitt
crawled out of the brush pile he’d burrowed in, stumbled over to the well and
stared into the empty black hole. “Fucking cunt,” he shouted. “Why couldn’t you
just die? I should have fucked you! I should have fucked you and then cut out
your heart!”

He
could have done it down there in the well. Yeah. He could have done her good.
He’d planned to. He was on his way to finish her off when he heard the chopper.

“Damn,
fucking, interfering Remingtons. Just wait. I’m coming for you. All of you.”

Where
was Sheriff Blackstone? He rubbed his aching head. Ah, yes, Danger Blackstone
didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t the man in Lacey darling’s life. So who the
hell was the big man who’d carried Lacey up from her grave? He didn’t know, but
he’d make a point of finding out, then he’d kill the fucker.

Smitt
limped away and headed toward the woods. For now, he had to hide. Heal. Sharpen
his knives. He wasn’t finished with Kaycee Remington, either. She had his
babies in her belly, and he damn well wanted them. He wanted her. And Lacey—oh,
Lacey, darling, well, she had more fight in her than he’d given her credit for.

He
rubbed his hard cock and grinned. A worthy opponent was Lacey darling. Yeah,
tough gal, a strong will to live, worthy of his seed. Their kid would be
fearless, a survivor. “I’m coming for you, Lacey darling, and next time, you
get the honor of my seed. I’ll put my baby in your belly. You only think you’ve
escaped me.”

When
he finished with her, she’d wish she’d died the first time round. He was going
to carve her up good. Real good. “Carve you good, Lacey darling, and you’ll be
number one at my new table. Number one. You can run. Run, Lacey darling. I’ll
find you. I’ll always find you.”

Chapter Seventeen

The way to love
anything is to realize that it might be lost.

~ G. K.
Chesterton

Havre, Montana

Regional Health Care Center

ICU Waiting Room

February 8, Sunday

5 p.m.

Rafe
stood, stretched, drained the Styrofoam cup of the last dregs of coffee and
tossed it in the trash receptacle by the table. The way his stomach burned and
his nerves jittered he knew he’d had way too much caffeine and not enough
carbs, but he needed to keep his hands busy, as well as his mind.

The
steady drone of voices in the waiting room got under his skin. Some people
silently prayed. A few hours earlier, he’d been among the crowd who quietly
sought God’s mercy. Every hour Lacey had spent in surgery, he’d prayed. And by His
mercy, she’d lived. By no means was she out of danger yet, but the odds had
risen in her favor.

Now,
he wanted to see his lady, be with her, hold her in his arms, and damn it, none
of it would happen for a very long time, at least the holding her in his arms
part.

Mere
hours ago, Lacey clung to life by a thread. Things could still go critical, but
she was strong and brave. He told her so every time he saw her. She had to
fight to live.

Rafe
glanced at his Rolex. Three more minutes, and he could see her again. Smitt
Davis hadn’t merely destroyed their baby. He’d done other, terrible things to
Lacey. Rafe regretted everything the monster had put her through, and he
grieved deeply for the loss of his and Lacey’s baby. Sonofabitch Smitt Davis
had a lot to answer for—one day.

He
looked up at the sound of the scuffed drag of Duel’s boots. Duel had to be as
exhausted as he was, but neither of them wanted to leave the hospital. “How’s
Jace?”

Duel
shook his head. “He’s sleeping. Kaycee’s taking a nap. The doctor said Jace can
be moved from ICU tomorrow.”

“Have
you talked to your cousin, Raider? Have they heard anything about Dianna and
Taylor?”

“No.”
Duel poured a cup of coffee and eased into a recliner. “He said a great part of
the desert region has been searched, but it’s so vast. Silver is flying north
tomorrow. She has a hunch.”

“A
hunch? What’s to the north?”

“A
rainforest.”

“But
Dianna was flying west. Right?”

“Supposed
to have been. Silver’s hunches, well…sometimes they’re dead on. She has the
power…you know?”

“The
power?”

Duel
ginned. “Old family legend, something about the Remingtons descending from an
ancient line of witches who could foresee the future.”

“You
believe that?”

Duel
shrugged. “I never took the time to research our family tree, but Silver has.
She swears she traced the family bloodline all the way back to Salem Village
and that we’re descended from a Winslow family line.”

“Wow.”
Rafe knew he sounded incredulous. Why wouldn’t he? He had the feeling Duel had
just spoon-fed him a tale to take his mind off everything. “You believe in
witches?”

“I
swear I’m telling the truth.” Duel laughed. “I don’t know if I believe in
witches or not. Don’t you believe the Remingtons are descended from a magical
breed?”

“I
didn’t say you weren’t.”

“No,
but I share psychic abilities with Silver. I read your expression.”

“Bullshit.
What was the name of the witch in Salem?”

“Don’t
know.” Duel laughed. “I sort of tune Silver out when she starts saying we’re
descended from demons and witches. Have you heard anything more about Lacey?”

“I’m
going to see her right now. Maybe she’s awake.”

Duel
nodded. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Rafe
made his way to the Surgery/ICU and buzzed to be allowed through the double
doors of the unit. He stopped by the nurse’s station to let Lacey’s nurse know
he was visiting, and to check on her progress. Then he approached the tiny
room. He paused in the doorway, his heart thumping as fast as a hummingbird’s.
God, she looked so small and lifeless lying there with the sheet folded back so
neatly and a dozen different tubes keeping her alive.

He
settled in a chair by the bed and lifted her icy hand. “Lacey?” he whispered
her name. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’ve been right here. I won’t leave you alone
unless they run me out again. I spent last night right here with you. If you
can hear me, squeeze my hand, baby.”

Nothing.
God, she looked frighteningly pale. She’d lost a lot of blood. If it hadn’t
been for the icy cold slowing everything down inside her, she would have bled
to death. He didn’t know how many units of blood they’d given her in surgery,
but he knew it had been several. “Lacey, squeeze my hand, baby. Please, squeeze
my hand.”

A
faint touch. Her fingers curled around his, feeble, but still a light squeeze.
“Rafe,” she said in a scratchy voice and opened her eyes.

“Yes!
Oh, God, Lace. You’re awake. I’ve
been terrified.”

“Me…too…”

“How
do you feel? Don’t answer that. I know you feel like hell. Are you in pain? Do
you need something?”

“I…want…to—”
She broke off, moaning as a coughing spasm hit her.

Lacey
splayed her hands on top of the thin sheet, across her flat stomach. Tears
welled in her eyes and spilled down her face. Rafe followed the path of her
hand as she patted the top of the sheet. He tried to distract her. “Don’t try
to talk, sweetheart.”

“Baby?”

Shit.
She wasn’t going to let him avoid the subject. “Our baby?”

Lacey
squeezed his fingers. “Our baby…yes.”

“We
lost it, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

She
brushed at her tears with a trembling hand. “Wanted…your…baby.”

Rafe
swallowed hard. “Me, too.”

“Joseph?
Anna Leigh?”

He
swallowed hard and felt his gut knot. Damn. He was not going to be the one to
tell her about her son and sister-in-law. “Do you remember me asking you to
marry me, Lace?”

Her
eyes swept over his face, large and tragic and filled with grief. He saw the
pain-filled shadows and realized she understood what he’d tried to do. She let
him get by with changing the subject, but he saw the anguish on her face, the
quiver of her lower lip. She knew. In her heart, she knew her son was gone,
that Anna Leigh was gone.

A
solitary tear spilled over and slid silently down her bruised cheek. “Never…forget.”

“Did
you mean it when you said you would?” He lifted her hand, pressed a kiss to the
top of it. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It kills me to see you hurting like this.”

“Yes.”

His
heart bounded. “Yes? You’ll marry me?”

She
gave a faint nod.

“Thank
God. I was afraid—”

“Where
is she? I wanna see her!”

Rafe
looked up, startled at the sound of shouting near the nurse’s station.

Lacey
flinched. “Danger,” she whispered. “Don’t want…to…see…him.”

“I’ll
see what’s—”

“There
you are!” Danger charged inside
the tiny room and to the opposite side of the bed, from where Rafe sat holding
Lacey’s hand. He looked like a madman, eyes wild and red, teeth gnashing.

“You
murdering bitch! You killed my son and sister! Because of you, Joseph’s dead,”
he accused. “You let him die!”

“Danger,”
Rafe snapped. “For God’s sake,
are you crazy?” He jumped up from the chair and started round the foot of the
bed. “Get away from her. You can’t barge in here and shout accusations at her
like this.”

“The
hell I can’t!”

Rafe
grabbed Danger by the front of his shirt. “Get out! She’s in no shape to go
through this right now.”

“She’s
my wife. I don’t have to get out.” Danger jerked free of Rafe’s grip and stood
there glaring at Lacey.

“She
isn’t your wife, man. Even if she was, you’re not going to say such cruel
things to her. She isn’t to blame for what happened. She’s—
”

Danger
lunged toward Lacey. “You let my son die!”

Lacey
burst into hysterical tears. Her slender shoulders shook. Deep sobs racked her
shoulders. “Please. Please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. He was my son, too. I would
never let anything happen to him. Not if I could prevent it.”

“You
didn’t try to prevent it,” Danger yelled. “You let Smitt Davis walk inside our
home.”

“I
didn’t let him inside,” Lacey denied, her voice faint.

Danger
locked his fingers around her wrists and dragged her half off the bed. “You let
him in. How else did he get in if you didn’t open the door for him?”

He
jerked her closer to the edge of the bed. The IV pole swayed. Lacey’s IV catheter
ripped from her vein. Blood trickled down her arm and dripped off her fingertips.
Clear fluid poured from the open end of the IV tubing, wetting the bedding and
floor.

“Please,
I didn’t let him in. He was just there. I don’t know how he got in. I locked
the door behind you when you left.” Lacey’s eyes silently pleaded with him to
understand.

“Jesus.
Are you insane? Leave her alone!” Rafe tackled Danger, wrapping his arms around
his lean waist. He tried to drag him from the small cell-like room, but both of
them slipped in the fluid on the tile floor and fell against the IV pole. The
pump, hooked to the pole that fed fluids in her veins drip by drip, hit the
floor with a loud
bang
. Chunky pieces
of dark blue and black plastic bounced across the floor, skittering in several
directions.

Both
men’s boots tangled in the tubing. They tripped and hit the hard tile, rolling
and swinging wild punches.

Lacey struggled
onto the side of the bed, but fell to one side, too weak to hold herself up
straight. “Stop it! Oh, God, please, someone make them stop.” Sharp pain cut
across her abdomen. She flinched and stared at the blood staining the front of
her gown. Some of the staples must have torn free. “Joseph’s dead,” she cried.
“Nothing will bring him back. My babies are gone, and I’m alive. Isn’t that
enough punishment for you? I should be dead. Someone please, just let me die.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Let me die!” She buried her face in her palms and wept.

An
older nurse rushed in with two security guards. The two men tackled Danger,
holding his arms behind his back. “Which one do you want in here with you,
miss?” one of the security guards asked, winded.

Lacey
shook her head. She looked up, and her gaze met Rafe’s sharp blue eyes. “Him.”

Danger
growled low in his throat. He jerked free of the two security guards. “You
murdered our son!”

Lacey
wept, her deep sobs shook her slender shoulders. She looked at Danger through a
blur of tears. What could she say to him? In her heart, she knew she was
guilty. She’d failed her babies, failed Danger.

“Now,
now, honey,” the nurse said, wrapping her arms around Lacey’s shaking
shoulders. “Let’s get your bandages changed and a clean gown. We’ll change
these wet old sheets and check your staples. You need something for pain,
sweetie?”

Rafe
hurried to Lacey’s side. “Get him out of here,” he said to the security guards.
“He’s not allowed back in here.”

“I
didn’t let Smitt Davis in,” Lacey cried. “I
didn’t.”

“He
picked the lock, Lacey,” Rafe said. “Danger knows that. He’s the one who told
me. He’s not thinking straight.”

Both
the nurse and Rafe jerked at the awful moan that wrenched from Danger. He
staggered into the wall, took three unsteady steps forward and suddenly
collapsed on the floor. Rafe jumped up and ran to him. “Jesus Christ. His nose
is bleeding.”

The
nurse dropped to her knees beside Rafe. “He’s having a seizure. See that tongue
blade taped to the wall over the bed?”

Rafe
looked across the room and nodded.

“Get
it!”

The
nurse tore the wrapper off the blade and gently forced it between Danger’s
teeth.

“What
can I do to help?” Rafe asked.

“Help
me turn him on his side. He’s vomiting. I need somebody in here, now,” she
yelled. “Help! I need help!”