Badlands (9 page)

CHAPTER NINE

O
WEN
ENDURED
THE
TORTURE
for as long as he could.

After Penny had cried on his shoulder, she’d surrendered to exhaustion and drifted off to sleep. His arm ached from holding her, and his right hand had gone numb. Still, he didn’t move, merely flexing his fingers until they tingled.

It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the feel of her body against his. He did. But his sexual frustration was at an all-time high.

His contract wasn’t the only reason he kept his distance. Their connection was unlike anything he’d ever known. Her gaze seemed to cut right through him, delving into places he kept hidden. Her touch went deeper. As much as he ached to be with her, he feared the experience would break him. He imagined falling on her like a ravaging beast, unable to control the flood of pent-up desire. Every dirty thought and horrible memory would converge. The emotions he held inside would come pouring out, drowning them both.

Maybe that was a little overdramatic. The bottom line was he’d rather die than hurt her. He couldn’t have casual sex with her; they were too close. His response to her was too intense. And her father would disown her. Owen refused to be responsible for a rift between them. They were a nice family. She was a nice girl.

He was supposed to be
protecting
her.

Sex shouldn’t have been an issue with Penny. She was his client. Even if he’d been capable of a healthy relationship, she was off-limits. He hadn’t considered asking her out before he’d taken the job with her father, either. Their mutual friends had teased him about her, saying she was interested, but he hadn’t believed them.

Why would drop-dead gorgeous Penny Sandoval be infatuated with
him?

He’d realized that she liked him as a person. They’d bonded during the earthquake. She was still close with Cadence and the others. A special friendship, even one between members of the opposite sex, didn’t have to develop into something else. He’d always assumed that his lust wasn’t reciprocated.

Her behavior just now suggested otherwise. Owen was no Lothario, but her signals seemed clear. When a woman put her arms around his neck and pressed kisses on his face, she was looking for more than a platonic hug.

He replayed her actions, searching for an alternate explanation. She’d turned his head toward hers, kissing the tender spots on his cheek and jaw. Then she’d inched closer to his lips, as if begging him to kiss her back.

Last night, before going on stage, she’d asked him to kiss her, point-blank. Her mouth had been as red and ripe as a cherry. He imagined that mouth all over his body, leaving marks on his skin. He couldn’t decide which was sexier, bare lips or painted. Bare, probably. Bare and natural and sweet-tasting.

He studied their surroundings for a moment before turning his gaze on her. Now that she was asleep, he felt safe ogling her. When she was awake, he tried to keep his eyes averted. He was usually more successful. The stress of the past twenty-four hours had taken its toll, weakening his resolve.

The dress she was wearing had been provocative in its original state. Not too provocative, but revealing enough to make a man look twice. “Tasteful cleavage,” she’d called it. The enticing hint of fullness invited a closer inspection. Although he couldn’t see much more from the waist up, he had an extensive mental catalog to refer to. His go-to favorite was of Penny’s soaked blouse after the water-balloon incident. The wet fabric had clung to her breasts and exposed the dark circles of her nipples. His erection grew impossibly stiff against his damp pants as he continued his perusal.

From the waist down...he smothered a groan. Her panties were visible beneath a thin, ragged layer of fabric, which only covered her to midthigh. Her legs were long and luscious, honey-smooth. He’d love to feel them wrapped around his hips as he slid into her. Pulse throbbing, he glanced away.

It seemed as if he’d wanted her forever. The idea that she might want him, in return, was almost beyond his comprehension. He’d learned at a young age not to get his hopes up. Her desire was too good to be true—and too hot to handle.

Maybe it didn’t mean anything. She was scared and vulnerable. She’d needed comfort, and he was available.

Wincing, he moved his arm out from under her and scooted away. She murmured a protest and curled up on her side, facing the other direction. Unfortunately, the position offered another visual feast. Against his better judgment, he engaged in a more thorough inspection of her legs. Her tattered skirt and lacy panties didn’t do a very good job of covering her pretty ass. She had pebbles and leaves embedded in her flesh.

His fingertips itched to remove them.

Instead of reaching out to her, he ground the heel of his palm against his hard-on. It didn’t help, of course.

He stood and focused on surveillance for a few minutes. He was trained to study an area section by section in regular intervals. By the time he’d done two complete sweeps, the blood had cooled.

Penny slept for about an hour. He thought of several other reasons why he should stay away from her. The situation was inappropriate. He should be concentrating on survival. He didn’t want her to see his tattoos. They weren’t as offensive as before, but the reminder of his checkered past was disturbing.

He felt ugly, inside and out. Tainted. She was beautiful and innocent and pure. His touch would defile her. A hand that had once been marred with a swastika didn’t deserve to caress her honeyed skin.

He was like the Salton Sea. Better at a distance. Filled with old skeletons, toxic to the depths.

Penny woke with a start, sitting up and searching for Cruz.

“He’s still asleep,” Owen said.

She went to check on him anyway, brushing off her bottom as she rose. He clenched his hands into fists, envying the dirt that fell from her skin. Her eyes were puffy and her hair was tangled. She looked a little wild and unkempt. He was fascinated by the sight, perhaps because she was usually so put-together.

What would it be like to see her every morning before she showered or brushed her teeth? To sleep beside her every night, to know her as no one else did?

He accepted the fact that he couldn’t have her. He’d never touch her or give her pleasure or make her his. But as long as they all got through this alive, he’d be okay. Keeping her and Cruz safe was enough.

He lifted the binoculars to do another sweep. A flash of movement caught his attention. Pulse racing, he searched the same section again.

There.

A man ducked into the dwindling midday shadows near the canyon wall. Owen couldn’t see his face, but he recognized the orange trucker cap. Roach sat down and stretched out his legs, as if planning a short rest.

Owen had considered best-case scenarios as well as worst-case. The worst was that Shane would deal with Brett by killing him. With Brett out of the picture, Shane and the others could catch up quickly. The fact that the group of men hadn’t already arrived suggested that the worst-case scenario hadn’t occurred.

Neither had the best-case.

Owen was hoping Shane would take Brett to the hospital and abandon the kidnapping plan altogether. Roach’s skulking presence indicated that Shane hadn’t quit. His brother tended to be tenacious, stubborn and greedy.

Owen lowered the binoculars, noting that Roach was difficult to spot without them. Owen doubted Roach could see him standing in the shade of the palms. Roach probably suspected they were hiding out here because it was a convenient stopover. He’d followed their tracks or caught a glimpse of them hiking.

Maybe Shane had taken Brett back to camp, where he was suffering in slow agony. Maybe they were waiting for nightfall to attack. Maybe they’d attack within the hour. Time was of the essence in a ransom situation. If the exchange didn’t happen the first day or two, complications ensued.

Owen weighed their options, feeling grim. They could leave now and try to lose the tail. Or he could be more proactive and make certain they weren’t followed. Ambushing Roach carried a greater risk, but it was always more advantageous to pick off opponents one by one, rather than taking them on as a group. He didn’t think Roach was armed. Shane wouldn’t have given him his weapon.

It wasn’t an easy decision to make. Owen didn’t enjoy hurting people. But Penny and Cruz’s lives were at stake. Owen’s life was at stake. Shane’s investment in this plot didn’t leave any room for brotherly love.

Penny returned to his side. “What is it?”

“We have company.”

“Where?”

He handed her the binoculars, describing the general area.

“I see him,” she said. “I’ll wake up Cruz.”

“Don’t.”

“Shouldn’t we leave?”

“Not yet. I’m going to circle around the canyon and...surprise him.”

She flinched, giving back the binoculars. “By shooting him in the foot?”

“No. Sound carries, so firing at him would be my last resort. I’ll try to knock him out and tie him up.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Do you have another idea?”

“Let’s keep moving.”

“He’ll follow us.”

Her mouth tightened with displeasure. “Maybe we should give up.”

Owen had entertained the same thought, but he suspected the situation was even more precarious than she realized. First of all, Shane was no criminal mastermind. If he pulled off the job, he would probably be eliminated as soon as he delivered the goods.

Owen didn’t want to care about Shane’s welfare, but he did. Thwarting this plan might save his brother from death or prison. More importantly, it could save others. Innocent victims like Penny, Cruz...and her father.

“I’ve heard that the Aryan Brotherhood has connections to the Freedom Party,” he said, his stomach churning.

“From who?”

“My security team.”

“They know you were a member?”

“Yes.”

“Are you implying that the Freedom Party is behind this?”

He leveled with her. “Your father is rich, but he’s not that rich. You’ve been targeted for political reasons. The endgame might be an assassination attempt.”

She stared at him in horror.

“If money isn’t the goal, we’re all expendable. You and Cruz are just bait.”

This news changed her outlook, as intended. It also appeared to scare the hell out of her. “Would your brother really be involved in a scheme like that?”

“He might not know.”

She took a deep breath, staying calm. As always, he admired her fortitude. Even in desperate circumstances, she didn’t fall apart.

He glanced through the lenses of the binoculars again, aware that he had only a short window of opportunity to strike. When the shade receded, Roach would move to a different location. He decided to leave the binoculars with Penny, along with the pocketknife. “If I’m not back by sunset, go on without me.”

She took the items without responding.

“Promise me.”

“No.”

He knew she’d go on without him. She’d do it for Cruz’s sake, no matter what she said. But her refusal to promise indicated that she cared about him. It meant she’d never forgive him if he didn’t return.

His throat closed up at the sight of her defiant eyes, brimming with unshed tears. He cupped her chin and swept his thumb over her mouth, which trembled at his touch. He couldn’t let himself fall in love with her. Not today, not ever. But he could give her a small indication of how he felt, just this once.

When he lowered his head, she inhaled a sharp breath. Both of her hands were occupied, and she seemed angry with him. That made it easier somehow. He was in control. There was no possibility of sex.

He brushed his lips against hers, almost groaning at the sensation. He’d kissed her mouth once before, a chaste peck that had featured in his fantasies for years. Her lips were even softer than he remembered, parted in sweet invitation. He wanted to sink inside, to urge her back against the tree and plunder her with his tongue.

But he didn’t. He barely tasted her before pulling away.

She stared at him, moistening her lips. Her mouth drove him crazy. He pictured it trailing down his body, her tongue gliding over his taut skin.

“Promise me you’ll come back,” she said, turning the tables on him.

“I’ll be fine.”

Her eyes filled with tears once again.

He had to go before he broke down and cried with her. Or he broke down and tried to fuck her. Either way, he’d embarrass himself.

Tearing his gaze away, he put on his shoes and secured the gun in his waistband. The walkie-talkie he’d stolen could be used to call for help when they got closer to the road, but he didn’t dare turn it on now. Some models had GPS, like cell phones. He left all of the water for Penny and Cruz.

To avoid being spotted, he jogged in a wide circle around the back side of the canyon before cutting across. The heat was like a dragon breathing down his neck. His damp pants dried quickly, the dark fabric soaking up sunlight. Last night’s beating had weakened him. He was sore and stiff, his ribs aching. Several times, he had to slow down to breathe.