Waiting for Wednesday (16 page)

James grinned. “It did start that way, but I have to confess I’m having too much fun to let the game end too soon.”

Equal parts relief and panic flooded her. Tris was still safe. She was not.

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“Untie me,” she demanded with more bravado than she felt. She couldn’t stand being helpless in front of him.

He shook his head. “Nope. They’re my rules and they don’t say anything about playing fair.”

Before she could react, he straddled her legs, holding them to the ground with his weight. With her arms incapacitated, she knew what it meant to be shit out of luck.

“You don’t want to do this, James.” He started unbuttoning her blouse. “You hated sex with me.”

He chuckled after releasing the second button. “This isn’t sex, Lane. It’s rape.” With that, he ripped her shirt open the rest of the way, the fabric tearing.

“When did you become such a bastard?” She tried in vain to move her legs.

“I was always a bastard. You know that. For a while there, I actually thought you might save me, but then you started spreading your legs for Collins. How do you think I felt, Lane, knowing my wife was whoring at the pub week after week?”

“I wasn’t whoring and I didn’t think you cared if I went out for a drink. You never said anything. Never acted like you wanted me around.” He grasped her bra, pulling it up until her breasts were bared to his pinching fingers. She winced at his painful tugging.

“Well, you were right. I didn’t want you around. You were a stupid, ugly bitch then.”

“So what’s this all about?” She tried to stem the tears he was producing with his hard pinches, trying to pretend she wasn’t terrified, in agony.

“You were
my
stupid bitch,” he replied with a nasty laugh. He scooted down her legs, careful not to lose his grip on them. He’d wised up to her kicking. He unbuttoned her jeans, released the zipper. She moved as much as her tight restraints would allow, fighting to break the tape at her wrists.

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He dragged the denim over her hips, along with her panties, and she swallowed back the vomit rising to her throat. She didn’t want his fingers on her, near her.

“Please don’t,” she whispered, her courage faltering.

He looked at her face and for a minute, she thought she saw a shadow of the man she’d married.

Then his face hardened with anger. “I bet you don’t say no to
him
.” He pushed one finger along her pussy, the touch of the single digit painful. “Dry as a bone,” he laughed, though the sound held no mirth. “Guess some things never change.” She hadn’t realized until Tris what it meant to desire someone so much her body would produce its own juices. She’d rarely managed that feat with James and they’d had to use lubrication more often than not.

“Stop.” She tried to press her legs together when he continued pressing.

He rose to his knees above her ankles, pushing her jeans down and pulling one leg free, leaving her other foot trapped in the rough material. He worked slowly, carefully, keeping a tight grip on her legs to prevent her from flailing. Once he had her bare from the waist down, he shoved her knees apart and knelt brutally on her left leg, keeping a hard grip on her right thigh.

He began to undo his own pants with his free hand and she knew she was helpless to stop him. “This is going to hurt, you frigid bitch,” he said as he released his cock. She closed her eyes, but he refused to allow her even that small bit of escape. He pinched her nipple cruelly. “Open your eyes. You’re gonna know it’s me who’s taking you.

Game’s over, Lane. I’m the winner.”

She opened her eyes. “Fuck you.” Her words gave him a moment’s pause, as did her penetrating stare.

For a moment, she thought she’d stopped him, but he merely frowned as he placed the head of his cock at her opening.

And then the doorbell rang.

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For a split second both of them remained motionless, and then Lane opened her mouth to scream. James instantly covered her lips with one hand while reaching over and grabbing a rag from the floor. He stuffed the dirty cloth in her mouth and she struggled not to gag as he pushed it in, holding it in place with more of his cursed duct tape.

Then he rose, closing his pants. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll get rid of our company and then we’ll finish this party up right.”

Tris crept up to the back door as Aaron spoke with James on the front porch. He’d positioned himself just outside the backyard, waiting for Ewan’s signal. His brother was crouched behind a neighbor’s hedge, watching the front door. Once Aaron left, he would signal Tris with a birdcall that the coast was no longer clear.

Tris tried to open the door, surprised to find it unlocked. His original plan had been to look in the windows, but Aaron had unwittingly planted the breaking-and-entering seed back at the pub. In for a dime, in for a dollar, he decided as he crossed the threshold. James clearly didn’t feel threatened by thieves.

As he stepped into the kitchen, he understood why. The house smelled worse than a sewer and every surface was coated with stains, spilled food and garbage. He could hear Aaron and James talking toward the front of the house and wondered how he’d be able to get by them if he couldn’t find Lane on the first floor.

He was walking toward the hallway when he noticed a door ajar. He heard scuffling sounds below and acted before he could think better of the idea. He crept down the stairs—relief and anger inundating him when saw Lane, bound and nearly naked, struggling to get to her knees.

“Jesus.” He rushed across the room to free her.

Lane’s bruised face went wild with panic when she saw him and for a moment, he wondered if she was frightened of him. His blood ran cold as murder flashed in his mind. He’d kill James Bryce for hurting her again.

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He peeled the tape away from her wrists and together they fought to remove the gag. Lane bent forward to retrieve her pants. “Out of here!” she whispered, her words coming out in a rush. “You have to get out of here! James is going to—”

“Dammit, Lane,” James said from the top of the stairs. “You always try to give away the ending. Put your hands in the air, Collins, and leave them there.” From where he knelt at Lane’s side, Tris saw that James had a gun in his hands and it was pointed directly at him. Tris wanted to place himself in front of Lane, but as long as the gun barrel stayed on him, he didn’t want to draw any more attention to her. He stood slowly and raised his hands.

James slowly walked down the stairs and Tris started to curse as Lane struggled to her feet and positioned herself between him and her ex…again.

“Lane,” Tris said. “Move behind me. Now.”

James smiled at his comments. “You’re spoiling my surprise, Lane. My silly wife—”

“Ex-wife,” Lane interjected.

Tris wanted to growl at her reckless behavior. “Why don’t you let Lane leave, Bryce? This argument is between us. Get her out of here and we’ll settle it like men.” James shook his head. “Nope. The whole point of killing you is so Lane can see what happens when wives cheat on their husbands. Nice of you to break in this way. As a law-abiding citizen, I have every right to defend my home. No one will convict me for killing an intruder.”

Tris tried to step forward, desperate to get between Lane and the gun.

“Don’t move,” James said, lifting the weapon and pointing it directly at Lane’s head. “Lane, step aside. Now.”

“No,” she said.

“Dammit, Lane,” Tris pleaded. “Move out of the way, kitten.” She shook her head. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

“My game, my rules.”

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Tristan was unnerved by the pleasure James seemed to take in Lane’s response.

Lane’s courage in the face of the escalating danger appeared to be egging the man on.

“Lane,” Tris said. “Turn around and look at me.” James’ gaze landed on him. “Go ahead,” he instructed her. “Turn around and look at your lover. I want you to see the bullet as it goes in.”

“Freeze!” Aaron yelled from the top of the stairs.

Tris only had a moment to comprehend the cop had his gun drawn. Then the events surrounding him began to play out in slow motion.

James lifted one hand off the gun in a sign of surrender. Lane turned, yelling at Tris to get down as James fired the gun. Lane fell into his arms, pushing him to the ground as another shot was fired, and then another. He felt a burning sensation along his rib cage as he quickly rolled and covered Lane.

When the last shot was fired, he glanced over his shoulder to find James’ lifeless body crumpled at the foot of the stairs. Aaron was standing over him, his expression grim. Ewan rushed in, followed by more policemen. He heard someone call for an ambulance.

“You’re bleeding,” Lane said. Her voice sounded sweet and clear.

He looked down and saw a tear in his shirt. Apparently a bullet had grazed him.

One quick look told him it was nothing more than a scratch. “It’s nothing. What the hell were you doing putting yourself between him and me?”

“I couldn’t let you die for my mistake.”

“The guy was a psycho, Lane. Maybe it was a mistake to marry him, but you got out.”

She was pale, her face white as a sheet. Tris feared she was going into shock over the ordeal. “Should have trusted you. Do trust you. Thought I would be safe…” Her words faded, her breathing harsh, labored.

“It’s okay, Lane. Everything is okay now.”

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“Tris,” Ewan said. “Tris, the EMTs are here. They want to check you out. See where all this blood is coming from.”

Tris looked down and his heart stopped when he saw a pool of blood beneath Lane.

He pushed off her, his hands dragging her shirt away from her. “The bullet,” he said.

Lane blinked, pain filling her face. “It went through my shoulder,” she whispered.

“Still hit you. Unlucky.”

“Jesus.”

Ewan dragged Tris away as two EMTs applied pressure to her wound. He was vaguely aware of Aaron explaining to another cop about the kidnapping. He felt remorse for the pile of shit he’d landed the man in.

“You okay, bro?” Ewan asked. He knew his Ewen wasn’t talking about his wound.

Tris couldn’t take his eyes off Lane as the EMTs placed her on a gurney. It was obvious she was in pain, but she didn’t shed a tear.

“She stepped in front of a bullet for me.”

“Helluva woman,” Ewan said.

“I said I would protect her.”

“You did, Tris. She was in danger and you broke in here like freaking Conan the Barbarian. Don’t mind telling you I had a heart attack when I saw you walking around inside the kitchen. Aaron freaked when I told him you were in the house.”

“Tris,” Aaron said, walking over. “We need to get a statement from you.”

“I’m riding in the ambulance with Lane. You can take my statement at the hospital.” Tris knew Aaron wanted to argue, but then the other man just shrugged.

“Sure. No problem.”

Tris followed the rescue workers as they carried Lane to the ambulance, hopping in behind them.

“Let me look at your wound,” Lane said as he sat down next to her.

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Tris laughed, though he didn’t feel much pleasure. “You’re not a nurse now. You’re a patient, so be quiet and behave yourself.”

“It’s just a flesh wound. Bullet went straight through. I’m fine.” Tris lightly ran his fingers through her hair, grimacing when he pulled them away and found them coated with Lane’s blood. The sight of it, knowing it was
her
blood, made him lightheaded, dizzy.

“You aren’t going to faint, are you, Everest? It’s just a little blood.”

“It’s
your
blood.” He wondered when his body had gotten so cold, why his hands suddenly felt numb.

“Excuse me.” He watched Lane attempt to get the EMT’s attention. “I think my boyfriend is going into shock.”

He grinned at her use of the word
boyfriend.
“I’m fine,” he said, just before he passed out.

* * * * *

“You doing okay, Tris?” Ewan asked.

He nodded tiredly. Hours had passed since their arrival at the hospital, but it seemed more like months. He’d felt like a damn fool when he came to in the ambulance and realized he’d fainted like a little girl over the sight of some blood. His brothers were never going to let him live it down. Pop and all his siblings had come to check on him and Lane, and had long since returned home. Ewan had stuck around to talk to the police.

Tris and Lane had both given their statements as well and he felt sick at how close James had come to raping her. Lane had told the story in her calm, mild-mannered way and once again, he was struck by her strength.

Apparently, one of James’ neighbors had called the police when she’d spotted Ewan in her hedge. Fortunately, Aaron claimed he’d been the first on the scene to investigate the neighbor’s intruder call when he discovered a kidnapping in progress. Between 133

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Ewan’s, Tris’ and Lane’s statements, plus that of the cab driver who’d been tracked down, James’ death was being treated as a justified kill by the district attorney. James had kidnapped Lane from a public street, and then shot her as Tris attempted to save her.

The ER doctor had patched up Lane’s shoulder and put five stitches in Tris’ side.

He’d deemed Tris well enough to go home, but insisted Lane stay overnight for observation. She had a nasty concussion in addition to the gunshot wound. It was early evening and she was dozing as the pain medication the doctor had prescribed included a sleep aid.

“I’m going to head out,” Ewan said, standing slowly.

Tris stood and put his hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. “Thanks for everything today.”

“No problem. I’m glad you and Lane are okay. When I heard those gunshots—”

“I know, man. I know.”

Ewan shrugged and, in his typical fashion, sought to lighten the heavy mood.