Hunted (3 page)

He could feel his anger rising. How could a mother do that to a child—let that happen to a child—her child? The man’s money and attention couldn’t have been worth that. It shouldn’t have been worth that.

“When I turned twenty, after my mom died, I ran. I would have tried it sooner, but she needed me. Maybe I still needed her,” she shook her head again and Keadon could tell she just wasn’t sure what to think of the situation and herself for needing her mother.

“Anyway, I ran and I have been running ever since. The first place I thought I would be safe. It wasn’t Vegas, but it was small and I figured nobody would look for me there. He had told me if I ever ran from him he would find me and make me pay for betraying him—I had to pay, that’s what he always told me. The dinner wasn’t cooked just right so I had to pay. He paid for my private school enrolment each year so I had to pay. He missed my mother so I had to pay and I always had to pay with my body like some cheap whore he picked up off the Vegas strip. I always had to give him all of me in every way, in ways I…I never would have wanted to be taken he took all of me.”

“Debbie.”

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me.” She unlocked the door as he pulled up outside her home. He placed his hand on her arm. “I should have known he would find me. All the fishing trips around here I guess I should have known that even middle of the mountains Idaho wouldn’t be safe. Could you see me as a Felicia? It’s one of the IDs I have; maybe I should become her again. I still have the red wig.

“No,” he tried to keep his voice calm. “And you’re not leaving. It’s time you stop running. It’s time you take back your life. The life you should have had. You have to make your stand somewhere and you’re going to make it here. There are people here who would move hell to keep you safe.”

“That’s the problem, Keadon. He’ll kill them. Anybody who gets in his way they always vanish. You just don’t know what he’s capable of doing.”

“Pack your bags; you’re staying with me.”

“Look, Keadon, there are reasons that I can’t—”

“You can and you will.” He didn’t want to seem too forceful, as if he were barking orders that he expected her to follow, but he was giving orders and he did expect her to follow them. There was no way she was going to keep running for the rest of her life. That man could live until he was a hundred twenty and he would still be after her. Men like that didn’t give up what they felt they owned. He was sure the man felt he owned her. He bought her. He paid her mother’s price, legally purchased ownership of her as his daughter and then he took her; something about that made Keadon want to pound the man’s head in even more. He learned a lot about torture in his military days, and he wanted to use every piece of his knowledge paying due justice to this Jason Porter man.

“You don’t have to protect me,” she mumbled. “You just have to…let me go.”

“I can’t,” was all he could say. He couldn’t let her go. He hadn’t really seen her before. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to, maybe he hadn’t tried, but he saw her now. Cathy had pulled his blinders off. She had done in one sentence what his brother hadn’t been able to do in months of hinting and dropping lines like, “she’s cute and wants you,” around over beers. Now, today, he saw her with clarity. He could remember how she sounded laughing joyfully when he taught her how to do an oil change. He could remember her sweet little voice when he would come into the café and sit in her section. He always sat in her section. She always smiled at him as if he was the best thing since gold, and he had never noticed it—never allowed himself to notice it—she wasn’t a kid. She was a woman. She wanted to be his woman. She wanted it and she was getting it because Keadon Myers protected what was his—he would protect her.

“Go in there, grab what you need and we’ll leave.”

“Keadon…

He shot her a look that probably told her this wasn’t open for debate. She couldn’t keep running. She couldn’t just bounce around. Maybe she would get away this time, but he could promise her there would come a time when she wouldn’t and he couldn’t guarantee her anybody would be around to help her. He was going to keep her safe. He was going to keep her in Loral Hills. She was not going to leave here, leave him, not because of this. He couldn’t let her leave because of this.

“I was just going to say thank you. Nobody has ever really done this for me before—not and meant it—stuck to it.”

“You can’t blame yourself you know that right?”

“I don’t blame myself. I blamed her. And I felt guilty for that. It’s why I stayed when she got sick. It’s why I took care of her. It’s why I hadn’t run away sooner—because she needed me and because I hated her for letting him touch me. She got sick before I graduated high school, a few months before actually. The doctors couldn’t find anything wrong. She was just sick, dying, and I tried to keep her alive because I felt as if I had to, because there were so many nights I wished she were dead—those nights when she lay down the hall in her bed while he came to mine I wished she were dead. I hated her. I hadn’t runaway because I was scared, and because I hated her. And maybe because I hated me for hating her—for wishing she was dead so many nights. For getting my wish.” She spoke calmly now, without the emotions she had in her voice before.

“I have been running for a long time, Keadon. It gives a woman a lot of time to think. I’ve made my peace with the cards God gave me. I just wish I could find a way to make my peace with knowing no matter how fast I run, no matter how far I go, he’ll always be one step behind me. He’ll always be the animal hunting me. I’ll always be his prey.” And on those words she pulled herself from the car with Keadon hopping out to follow behind her. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight, but he also had more questions—questions that needed to be answered so he would know what he was dealing with and just how much man power he was going to need to make sure if Jason Porter and his men came to Loral Hills the only way they left would be in a body bag.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Keadon promised as he approached Debbie. “But I need for you to tell me what I’m dealing with here. Was he military, cop, fed? What’s his background other than rich casino-hotel owner?”

Just a man with enough money to buy whatever and whomever he wants.”

“He can’t buy me.”

“I know. He has bought military men before though—Army men. I heard them planning something, but I couldn’t hear the conversation clearly so I don’t know what it was.”

He grunted. “These are the men hunting you?”

“If he gets me back, Keadon…if he gets me back I won’t survive it. He hurt me so badly. He took me relentlessly whenever he wanted no matter how I felt. I prayed for my period to come and linger because I knew it would be the only time I didn’t have to worry about him coming to my bed. I was on one week when my mom was away. I made him angry because I couldn’t give him what he wanted. He took the iron to my back. It wasn’t hot enough to cause severe damage, but it wasn’t cool enough not to leave a mark.” She unbuttoned her shirt as she turned around and pushed it from her shoulders. He could see the faint burn marks from where the iron hit her skin. He stretched out his hand; his fingers brushed against her warm skin. Smooth; she was smooth and warm and soft. He pulled his hand back because if he kept going he was going to ignite a fire storm within himself that he was in no position to extinguish. She had just unloaded a bomb of pain on him and he couldn’t, no he shouldn’t, be thinking about how soft she felt.

She fixed her shirt back and turned to him. “Keadon, I can’t go back.”

“He won’t get you.”

“I’m so scared,” she broke down and started crying hard. “I’m so, so scared.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his chest and he held her tightly. He spoke softly; assuring her she would be okay. “I’ll keep you safe,” he promised. “You have a retired Navy Seal Special Ops man on your side. I won’t let him hurt you again. I promise you; I am not going to let anything happen to you.”

“That makes two of us.”