Mr. Unlucky (15 page)

“I know. I promise to be good. Mostly.” Her cheek was on his shoulder, and she sighed, the sound happy. “I love you, cowboy.”

“Well, I know you’re the good one,” He teased. “But I expect we’ll raise some hell.” They would tie it up, too, he’d bet. They’d proven they knew how to fight, and that had been before either of them was serious.

“Moi? Never.” She cackled for him, pinching his thigh. “I’m the epitome of peace and fucking light.”

“Sure you are. Just like I’m in the Peace Corps, honey.” He turned off the highway onto the ranch road that would take them out to his place the back way instead of cutting through town.

“Mmm. I love this part of town at night. No lights, no worries.” She chuckled. “Well, barring the occasional random loose bull. That can be an issue.”

“Oh, God. Were you living here when old Shy O’Malley’s prize hog got hit and three different people tried to claim the corpse?” That had been a shotgun-toting mess of porktastic proportions.

“No, but Mads was. I got the blow-by-blow over Skype. She was just horrified that they were yanking that poor dead thing all over the highway like this was Cajun country.”

“No kidding. I swear, it was like an alligator party in—what the hell is that?” Something lurched on the back right end of the truck, like he’d lost a damned tire. Christ, he’d just got new tires six months ago. “You think I picked up a nail?”

“Oh, man. That sucks. I bet you did. Is there a good place to pull over?”

“Yeah. Hang on.” There was a crazy local historical marker in about a quarter of a mile. He started to coast a little, easing off the gas instead of hitting the brake.

Addie grabbed the dashboard. “Shaky shaky.”

“No shit.” He hated it when the universe came between him and his plans.

Bodie came to a stop in the wide spot in the road. It was dark as hell, but off the road enough that no one would hit them. He killed the engine. “You want to call your people to come get you, honey?”

She snorted. “I’ll hold the flashlight for you. You promised me orgasms.”

“No.” He almost snapped at her, but managed not to; it wasn’t her fault he had a bad feeling about this. “No, you stay in the truck so you can call someone if I get run over by a giant cow.”

“Well, don’t you need help, Bodie?” She looked so worried. “It’s so dark.”

“I’ll holler at you once I know what’s what.” He grabbed a flashlight from behind the passenger seat, then leaned over and kissed her before he hopped out.

Sure as shit, he had a flat. He had a spare under the tool box, and he grabbed it and the jack. Son of a bitch.

The door to the truck opened. “Maddie’s got a flat, too. She just called. The dads are going to fetch her.”

The hair on the back of his neck stood up, even though the logical answer was that he and Maddie had picked up nails, parking next to each other. “That’s a hell of a coincidence, honey. I got the spare, though. It won’t take me ten to get us going again.”

“Cool. You sure you don’t want my help holding the flashlight?”

Lights came up on the road behind them, slowing and pulling off. He should have been relieved, but he knew everyone who lived on this road, and no one he knew drove a Lexus. “Addie, get back in the truck.”

“Do you have a gun in there, Bodie?”

“There’s a .32 in the glove box. It’s loaded and the safety is on.” He headed up to meet whoever was stopping halfway, just to give Addie time to get safe. He had to make sure she was protected.

“Hey there,” he called out, as soon as the car door opened. “I got this, though. We’re cool.”

“Are you sure? I can call someone for you.” The man’s voice was weird, almost like it was underwater. Bodie had to move closer to hear, and the guy’s headlights blinded him.

“No, really. It’s cool.”

“Well, if you’re sure. Good deal. Have a good day.”

Where the hell was this guy from? That voice didn’t sound like home. Bodie turned, wanting out of the glare of the headlights, needing to get back to where his girl was waiting for him in the truck.

He heard the sound of running footsteps behind him, and he’d half turned to see what the asshole wanted when the blow caught him, a flash of white pain then the world went black.

* * * *

She couldn’t see anything back there, just shadows and weirdness. She had the .32 in her lap, safety off, eyes on Bodie’s hat, which was the only thing she could recognize, really.

When he turned back toward the truck, she managed a breath. Okay. Okay, he was safe.

Wait.

She saw him stumble and then disappear, the only thing out there now the lights from the car. What the fuck? Heart racing and head swimming just a little from the beer, she pushed the truck door open, pistol in hand. “Bodie?”

“Help! He’s fallen, and I think he hit his head!” The voice was rough, almost too low to hear, but Addie got the gist of it, and it spurred her to action.

“I’m coming!” She traded the gun out for her phone. If she needed 911, that pistol wouldn’t help her one bit.

“Hurry!” The man from the other car bent over Bodie, heavy coat and cowboy hat making him a big old outline.

“I have my phone!” Wait. Wait, it was late September. It was eighty degrees. Why did he—

A flash cut the lights and these things landed on her chest, every muscle going stiff as she convulsed and this buzzing sound filled her ears, like ten thousand bees.

What the fuck?

Her legs went out from under her and she jittered on the ground, then it happened again, and again.

Bodie. Bodie, help.

The man came forward, looming over her, and she knew that face, even knew the expression of twisted rage that pulled his otherwise attractive features into an ugly mask. “Where is it, Addie?”

What?

Where was what? Jim. It was Jim. He kept saying she was stealing from him. She never took a damned thing from him. He had her fucking pigs, damn it!

“J-jim? Jim.” She convulsed again, losing it, retching into the dirt.

“I need it.”

God, he’d tazed her. At least she thought this felt like what she’d seen on TV on those cop shows.

She kicked out, trying to hurt him, trying to see where Bodie was, but she missed and his boot caught her in the stomach, all the air in her belly disappearing in a rush. Addie curled into a ball as the electricity seemed to stop zapping her, just the aftershocks shaking her as Jim grabbed her legs and started hauling her to his car.

“No.” She shook her head, the ground tearing at her clothes, her skin. “Bodie.”

“He’s dead.”

Oh, bullshit. Her cowboy was stronger than some pussy-shoe wearing Yankee. He might be down for the count, but once he got up again—

Jim grabbed her hand, pulled the ring off her and tossed it over toward Bodie’s still body. “The lousy fucker is dead, and he’s not going to hurt near as bad as you are, girl.”

“He’s going to kill you for this, Jim, if I don’t do it f—”

The tazer hit again, and that was more than her body could take, the last thing she saw before the world faded was the door of the silver car, swinging open.

Chapter Twelve

Bodie’s head was pounding, a little man inside there with an anvil and a hammer, and he didn’t think he’d had that much to drink at the club. In fact, he was pretty damned sure he hadn’t. When he moved his head to look at the clock on the bedside table, his cheek scraped hard against something that felt like rock, and he realized he’d never made it home.

There was a ring sitting there, too. The one that he’d put on Addie’s finger. God damn it.

“Addie.” He grabbed the ring and croaked her name out, trying to get his hands and knees under him so he could get up. He could see the truck when he opened his eyes. Please, God, let her be in there.

The engine was still running, the lights on. The door open.

He struggled to his hands and knees, a wave of nausea hitting him hard. He hung his head for a few seconds, breathing, then surged to his feet, gagging as he stumbled to the truck.

“Addie! Addie, you here?” He knew she wasn’t. Knew it, because she’d have come for him.

Jesus. He sank down on the seat on the driver’s side, his head throbbing like a bass drum at a Friday night game. He swallowed, trying to make his brain work. The .32 was in the seat next to him, and so was Addie’s little wallet on a string. Her phone was gone, though.

Phone. Bodie dug in his pocket, hoping his was still in one piece.

Bingo. He pushed the screen, wincing at the bright light. Fuck. He’d been out for damn near an hour and a half. He guessed he should be grateful he’d woke up; that stretch of road it could have been hours before anyone came. He stared at the phone, debating who to call, finally settling on Addie’s Dad, Brandt. Hadn’t Addie said Maddie had a flat, too? This wasn’t robbery.

“Bodie, I swear to fucking God, you’d better tell me that everything is okay with my daughter.”

“Brandt?” His ears were still fucking ringing. “She’s gone. We got attacked. A flat tire. Someone took her. I can’t-I’m on Airport Road about five miles to my turnoff. Between my place and town.”

“God
damn
it!” He held the phone away from his ear. “
Chris
! Chris, that motherfucker has my baby!”

There was a crash, then a woman’s voice. “Bodie? Daddy Chris is coming to get you. Do you need an ambulance?”

“No, I just need someone to come get me and tell me what the hell is going on. Who has Addie?”

“Jim. That bastard. I know he has her.”

“Oh, God.” He hadn’t even thought of that. “Someone needs to call John at the Sheriff's office. Are you okay? Addie said you had a flat.”

“I had one, Daddy Chris did, too. Addie’s car was here, and it didn’t. Neither did Dad’s.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I tried; I had this feeling.” He was going to throw up. What kind of freak kidnapped his ex? What kind of sick fuck just couldn’t let it go?

“Yeah. I just. I’m going to keep calling her. It’s just going to voicemail. He’s been bothering her, threatening her.”

“She never said.” When he got her back safe he was going to beat her ass.

“She didn’t want you to worry.”

“Christ. She didn’t want me to worry.” He laughed, the sound torn out of him. “Are they on the way?” If they weren’t, he’d get the spare on and drive, if it killed him.

“Daddy Chris left as soon as you called. He’ll be there, man. He can drive.”

“Okay. You keep calling her. I’ll stuff my brains back in. I’ll see you in a few.”

“‘Kay Bodie.”

The line went dead and, sure as shit, headlights appearing over the rise, Chris’ truck barreling toward him. Thank God. He was ready to go get his girl. Then he would lock her up and make sure no one ever hurt her again.

Chris squealed to a stop, the little bandy rooster of a man coming to him. “What the fuck happened?”

“My tire went. I told Addie to stay in the car.” He turned the lights off, handed Chris his pistol. “He pulled off like he was going to help, hit me hard enough I’ve been out all this time.”

“Keep yours, I got mine.” Chris looked at his head, winced. “Jesus, son. That’s going to leave a scar. Come on, let’s get you to the house.”

“Where the hell would he take her?” He looked at the .32 before putting the safety on and tucking it into his belt. “I need to call someone to take care of the animals.”

“Call your brothers from the truck.” Chris sounded unconcerned. “Hop in.”

“Wait. I got to get her purse.”

She needed that, right? Her ID and all. Bodie got the little purse and made sure there was nothing else in there she’d want to have. Then he leaned back in Chris’ truck, resting his head.

Chris zoomed out, heading back the way he came, the hands free call picking up as soon as they hit the corner. “Brandt. I got him.”

“Good deal. Hurry up. I want us all in the same fucking place.”

“Me, too. The bastard took him out hard, mostly from behind. Fucking coward.”

“Blood?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll get the first aid kit. Maddie’s making coffee. Sheriff John is on the way over.”

“Good deal. See you when you get here.”

They hung up, and Bodie swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “Okay. What do we know about this guy?”

“Maddie knows everything. Shit, I didn’t even know he hit her until Brandt told me.”

“I should have killed his ass at the club.” He’d figured the sorry fuck would never come back, as bad as Bodie had beaten him down.

“Yep. We’ll just have to take care of it, now.”

“We will. If he hurts her—”

“Don’t.” Chris’ voice snapped out. “Just don’t. That’s my baby.”

“I’m sorry.” He was. He should have protected her, should have made sure no one could hurt her. He’d spend his life making it up to her.

“Man, you got whacked in the head. That’s almost a reasonable excuse.”

“I was on my way back to the truck.” He grinned. “You got hit in the head a lot when you rode, right? I ain’t got brains leaking out?”

“No brains. You’ll have a headache like you got kicked, and you look like you were in a fucking horror movie, though.”

“Well, that’s true enough, I guess.”

It took a lot less time to get to Addie’s dads’ house than he thought it would, and Bodie was grateful when the truck stopped.

“Don’t puke in my truck, man. Out.”

He got out, staggering a little, but righting himself pretty quick. He went looking for Maddie. She would know.

It was Brandt who opened the door to the big house. “Get in here, y’all. Now. She texted Maddie.”

Chris pelted in ahead of him, but he made good time. “What did she say?”

“To bring the keychain she has with all her thumb drives to that crappy rental house that Mickey Walker has. To not bring ‘our fathers’.” Maddie rolled her eyes. “It came from Addie’s phone, but it wasn’t my sister.”

“Well, now we know where to go. We just need a plan.”

Brandt had a thirty-aught-six in his hand. “A plan? I go blow that motherfucker’s balls off and bring my daughter home.”

“Baby, you can’t just go rushing in there.”

“No. Not if he specifically said not to bring y’all,” Bodie said.