Pitch Black (19 page)

Once he had her through the windshield, he got off the hood first, and then assisted her off the car.

The instant her feet hit the uneven ground, her knees buckled. As she went down, she pulled him to his knees.

“
Sonofabitch.
” She sucked in air between her teeth. “My legs are numb. How can they hurt so bad if they’re numb?”

“Lie down,” he said.

“Gravity already took care of that.”

“I mean all the way. Put your head back.” He retrieved the flashlight and laid it on the ground beside her. “We’ll just wait until your blood learns its way around again.”

The skirt of the suit she wore was one of those short skinny ones. His momma would skin him, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that it was hiked up well beyond decency.

He knelt at her feet and began massaging her calves.

“Ouch! You’re supposed to be helping me.”

“I am. I’m making the painful part go a little faster.”

“A real hero would make it go away altogether.”

A real hero wouldn’t be enjoying the feel of her legs under his hands under these circumstances. But damn, he was so glad she was basically unharmed that he felt light enough to float. “Again, you confuse me with a fireman.”

“Ugh.” She moaned. “Stop that. I’ll take the slow pain.”

“Your choice.” He ran his hands up and down the length of her legs one last time. “I’m going to get your shoes out of the car.”

“Shoes? I’m not wearing my shoes?”

“This might take longer than I thought. Try to keep moving your feet.” He took the flashlight and climbed in across the dash again.

He found her shoes under the brake pedal. As he pulled them out, he shook his head. The red four-inch heels were stripper hot, but she’d be better off to climb back up the slope barefoot than in these. “Do you have any other shoes in here?”

“Oh yeah, my entire wardrobe is in the trunk.” She paused. “Bring my tote, too.”

He shone the light around the interior of the car. The right side of the driver’s headrest had a two-inch tear in the leather. He searched for the rock that had come through the windshield and found it lying in the middle of the backseat. It probably weighed three pounds, was wickedly jagged—and it wasn’t one of the stones used to support the railroad.

That rock certainly didn’t fly off that rail overpass by itself. His heart did a double-beat. He wanted to get his hands on whoever had hurled it. The question burned in his mind: Was this a random act of teenage stupidity, or was Maddie targeted?

The answer to that was just going to have to wait until he got Maddie checked out at the hospital.

He left the rock where it was and grabbed the straps of the tote that was jammed under the dash on the passenger side. “This thing weighs a ton. Let’s let the tow truck pull it up with the car.”

“No!” There was a thin note of panic in her voice . . . the first he’d heard tonight. “Don’t leave it in there. It has my laptop in it.”

“Good reason to let the tow truck bring it up. It’s gonna be a tough climb. We might break it.”

“I’ll take the chance. I can’t leave it here.” The determination in her voice told him further argument was worthless.

Once he was back by her side, he said, “Any feeling coming back?”

“Feels like my legs are being eaten by piranhas.”

“Progress.”

“Easy for you to say. Get my cell phone out of the tote. I want to call Ethan.”

It was at that moment that Gabe realized he’d been so recklessly frantic, he’d left his own cell phone in the Jeep.

“It’s in the outside pouch,” she said.

He set down the flashlight and the tote, then pulled out one of those fancy gadgets that looked more like a calculator than a phone.

She pushed herself to a sitting position and took it from him. After dialing, she waited. “No answer. Where could he be?”

“Let’s go see.” He put her heels in the tote. “No sense in trying to climb with these on. Do you think you can stand?”

She nodded.

He put her tote on his shoulder and handed her the flashlight. Taking a wide stance on the slope, he reached down and grasped her forearms, pulling her up. She wobbled and weaved, then steadied.

He hooked his left arm around her back. Her right arm went around his waist.

“Let’s go,” she said. Her voice was strained enough that he knew her legs still hurt.

“Keep the flashlight on the ground. I’ll try to guide you into places easy on your feet.”

“I may be a city girl, but my feet are Tennessee all the way. Never wear shoes unless I have to.”

As they struggled to climb the slope, the distance seemed to increase. The downward trip had only taken Gabe seconds; up was another story. By the time they reached the road, he was sweating and Maddie was trembling so hard the flashlight beam bounced along the ground ahead of them.

He let the tote slide to the ground, opened the passenger door, and backed Maddie inside. The flashing emergency lights on top of the Jeep cast her face in pulsating shadows.

“Okay?” he asked, resting his hand gently along the line of her jaw.

She looked up at him, her brown eyes welling with tears. There was such an unexpected look of vulnerability in them that it hurt his heart.

Before his better sense kicked in, he leaned down and kissed her.

Chapter 19

M
ADISON LOCKED HER HANDS BEHIND Gabe’s neck, clinging to him, returning his kiss with all she had within her. Suddenly, nothing else in this world mattered. She would meld herself completely into his being if it were possible.

He straightened, pulling her back to her feet, wrapping his arms around her waist. The solid feel of his flesh under her hands affirmed that she really was safe.

She’d managed to hold back her fear as the hours had passed and the sun set. It had become much harder after darkness descended. If there was a moon, not a single beam made its way past the thick trees. The only time she could recall being in any place darker was when she’d been in a cave and the tour guide had turned out the lights. Absolute darkness, the man had said, pitch black. And he’d been right. That’s when she’d discovered something frightening about herself.

Absolute darkness suffocated her. It tore the breath from her lungs and reason from her mind. It made her want to run blindly, searching for light.

And even though tonight she had not been plunged into pitch blackness in a nanosecond as she had in that cave, even though night had fallen in its natural way, the feeling of being smothered had been the same. She’d fought the urge to scream, to flail, to struggle toward unseen light.

Once she’d turned on the car’s interior lights, but that had just made her surroundings that much darker. Besides, she’d wanted to save her battery, as no one was going to see her lights down there. Sound was a better solution—but when to use it? Hardly anyone traveled that road after eight in the evening on a weeknight.

Then she’d heard the bobcat cry and she’d just about lost it. No one had prepared her for how awful that sound was; chilling and threatening and morbidly frightening. A thousand times worse than the tomcat romancing her neighbor’s Persian. Compounded with the darkness, it was more than she could stand. She’d turned on the stereo. Although she would never admit it to Gabe, she’d done it as much to drown out the far-from-the-city night sounds as to attract the attention of a passerby.

But now all of that fear seemed so far away. Gabe breathed breath into her lungs. His wonderful voice instilled calm. His arms gave her strength. And his heart brought light to her own. Gone was the urge to run. She wanted to remain right where she was and not move—maybe ever.

All too soon, Gabe eased away. He traced his thumb along her lower lip. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“That was the first thing all night that hasn’t hurt. Do it again.”

His smile was sweetly lopsided and the color of his face vacillated between red and blue in the lights. “I’ve never met a woman like you.”

She stretched up and kissed him lightly. “I suppose you prefer a woman with Southern charm instead of Yankee frankness.”

He shook his head. “I never knew how much I liked Yankee frankness—or maybe it’s just when it comes from your lips.”

Oh my, the way he said those words made warmth bloom in her belly. Good God, he could charm snakes with that voice.

He leaned slowly closer until his lips grazed her neck. Then he whispered in her ear, “We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No.” She reluctantly leaned away from him. “I’m fine. I want to go home.”

“Maddie—”

“I just climbed out of that ravine, didn’t I?” He didn’t look persuaded. She said, “It’s ten o’clock. Ethan didn’t answer. I
have
to get home.”

He placed a hand on either side of her head, then kissed her forehead. “All right. But I’m checking you over when we get there.”

A delicious little thrill went through her at the prospect of having those hands roaming over her body, even if it was to inspect for injury.

He eased her back into the passenger seat. Putting his hands behind her knees, he swung her legs into the car as if she were an invalid. He buckled her into the seat belt before he closed the door.

As he walked around the front of the Jeep, he stopped dead. She couldn’t see anything beyond him in the flashing red-and-blue lights.

Then Ethan appeared running straight for them. The strange light accentuated the terror on his face. He had a baseball bat at his side.

Gabe raised a hand in the air. “She’s okay!”

He directed Ethan to the passenger side.

Ethan yanked open the door and fell to his knees beside the Jeep. “When I saw the lights . . . I thought”—His voice locked in his throat. Tears shimmered in his eyes.

“I’m fine. A rock fell off the railroad overpass and crashed through the windshield of my car and I went off the road.” She put a hand on his head. “I was stuck and couldn’t reach my phone.” Pushing the hair away from his eyes, she said, “I’m so sorry to have worried you.”

He bowed his head; she knew it was so she wouldn’t see his tears.

“Climb in and we’ll go home,” she said. “I’m starved.”

When he lifted his head, he had a grateful grin on his face and he blinked his tears away. “Me, too.”

She didn’t question him about the baseball bat. A kid with a past like his didn’t go out to meet trouble unarmed.

AS MUCH AS MADISON WANTED TO LEAN ON GABE
, to have his reassuring touch, she deliberately put space between them after he’d given her a hand out of the Jeep. She walked up the steps to the front porch slowly, but under her own power. Ethan was standing there, patiently holding the door open for her.

Gabe followed her through the door. “I’ll give Earl Whetzel a call in the morning to pull your car out of the ravine.”

Ethan said, “I’ll do it.” There was just enough of a protective tone in his voice for Madison to notice.

“Will you two stop treating me like I’m broken?
I
can make a phone call.”

Gabe took her by the elbow and led her closer to the lamp in the living room. He stood in front of her with his hands on either side of her head, turning her face toward the light. “I don’t think that cut needs to be stitched. Let’s clean it up, just to be sure.”

She could almost feel the heat of Ethan’s glare as Gabe handled her.

“I tell you what,” she said, pulling her head from his grasp. “I’ll take a shower, then if I think it needs attention I’ll go to the emergency room.”

“That’d be fine, but you don’t have a way to get there,” Gabe said. “Besides, I need to ask you some questions about the accident. You go ahead and shower. Ethan and I will make something to eat.”

Glancing at Ethan, she could tell he wanted Gabe out the door. This unfamiliar dance was making her uncomfortable enough that she almost wished him gone, too. But she knew Gabe wasn’t leaving until he was satisfied she wasn’t in need of medical attention.

“All right.” She headed toward the stairs, moving more stiffly by the step. It felt like every muscle in her body had suddenly decided in unison to seize up. “You two remember, any mess you make, you’re cleaning up.”

She heard Gabe chuckle behind her.

Ethan made a sound of teenage exasperation and clomped toward the kitchen. “I don’t need help.”

GABE WAITED UNTIL HE HEARD THE SHOWER
start upstairs, then went into the kitchen. Ethan was cracking eggs into a mixing bowl and flipping the shells into the sink.

“Now that Maddie’s out of earshot,” Gabe said, “why don’t you tell me what happened.”

Ethan continued to crack eggs and didn’t turn around. “What are you talking about?”

“What happened to make you run a mile down the road with a baseball bat?”

“I was worried about M.” Ethan’s voice was steady. He tossed another eggshell into the sink without turning to face Gabe.

“You were worried about her earlier when you called me, but you didn’t go tearing around in the dark with a bat. In fact, you were very clearheaded and rational.”

Ethan stopped what he was doing and finally turned. Bracing his palms on the edge of the counter behind him, he said, “I called your cell and you didn’t answer. I got
more
worried.”

Gabe didn’t believe that was everything, not by a long shot. He’d seen the terror on the kid’s face. Something had convinced him that his mother was in real danger.

Gabe just stood looking at the boy, trying to force the truth from him by simply outwaiting him.

The seconds dragged on. Neither one of them spoke. Gabe remembered then that Ethan was no ordinary teen; most of the tricks Gabe used to get kids to spill their guts probably weren’t going to work on him.

There were lots of things he wanted to squeeze out of Ethan Wade—like the complete and absolute truth about what went down at Black Rock Falls, and why Jordan Gray was in his current emotional meltdown. But Gabe wasn’t going to get those things unless he developed some new tactics.

His conscience niggled. Questioning Ethan about any of those things without Maddie’s knowledge was a breach of trust.

But you wouldn’t hesitate to do it if it was anyone else’s kid and you thought it would get you closer to solving the crime.

He couldn’t deny it. Whatever he squeezed out of a kid might not be admissible in court, but it went a long way to getting the truth out in the light of day.

“You did the right thing, calling me. Maddie might have been stuck down there all night if you hadn’t.”

The guarded look in Ethan’s eyes didn’t lessen. “Yeah, well, I knew you’d work harder at finding her than anyone else.” The tone in his voice said that wasn’t a particularly welcome thing.

“Listen, I don’t see any reason to bullshit you. I like your mom—a lot. But things are really complicated right now, so you can smooth down your hackles. Her first concern is you, as it should be. I’m not the enemy here.”

“But you don’t trust me.” Ethan never broke eye contact.

Gabe held back the automatic denial that tried to come out of his mouth. “My job is to ask questions. I can’t let my personal feelings keep me from doing that. My guess is you don’t trust me either.”

A slight smile of confirmation crossed Ethan’s face. “You want some eggs?”

It was clear that the kid appreciated the head-on approach. He was enough like Maddie in that respect to be her biological child.

“Sure.”

“The plates are in that cabinet over there.” Ethan pointed. “And the silverware in the drawer under it.”

Gabe stepped to the sink to wash his hands. “You went to see Jordan yesterday?”

Ethan had his head in the refrigerator. He held perfectly still for a moment. “Yeah.”

“How was he?”

Pulling out a carton of milk, Ethan returned to the bowl of eggs. He set the milk down and looked at Gabe. “It was weird, you know. He was still out of it, but after a while it seemed like he was at least hearing what was going on around him. Then he just went nuts, crying and stuff, almost like up on the mountain.”

“Really? Anything in particular set him off, you think?”

Ethan hesitated just long enough to signal he was deciding just how much he wanted to say.

“Not that I could tell,” he said, turning to pour milk into the eggs.

“What did your mom think? Was she in there, too?” Gabe nearly held his breath as he opened the cabinet, praying for the answer he wanted to hear.

“She couldn’t figure it out either. The lady at the place said she thought it was some kind of breakthrough. Sure didn’t look like that to me.”

Gabe noted that Ethan had skated around directly answering the second part of his question.

Before he could ask again, Maddie came into the kitchen. “I’ve given myself a clean bill of health.”

Gabe turned to look at her. She had on the oversized orange University of Tennessee sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. Her hair looked nearly black when it was wet. She had it pulled back in a ponytail.

He stepped closer. She dutifully tilted her face toward him so he could inspect the cut on her forehead. She was right; it was long, but not deep. Judging by the slash in the driver’s-side headrest, he imagined the jagged rock had nicked her as she reflexively dodged out of the way.

“How about everywhere else?” he asked.

“Got a hell of a bruise on my right shoulder and across my chest from the seat belt, and when I move I feel like I’m about a hundred and ten, but other than that, I’m good.”

“You take some aspirin?”

“Three.” She stepped away from his scrutiny and peeked over Ethan’s shoulder. “How long? I’m starved.”

AFTER THEY FINISHED EATING
, which was a matter of a few mostly silent minutes, Madison asked Ethan to go upstairs.

“I need to clean up the dishes,” he said. “You said so before you took a shower.”

Gabe smiled at Ethan, and Madison saw what she thought to be genuine fondness in his eyes. “You cooked,” he said. “And very well, I might add. I’ll clean up.”

Ethan slid a disgruntled look from Madison to Gabe and back to Madison again.

Madison said, “I’m sure Sheriff Wyatt has some questions about my accident.”

The look Ethan gave Gabe reflected anything but fondness. “She needs to rest. Can’t you ask tomorrow?”

“Seriously, I’m fine,” Madison said. “Stop worrying and go get your homework done.”

Ethan picked up his plate and set it on the kitchen counter with a clatter. He cast one last glower toward Gabe before he walked out of the kitchen.

“He’s worse than a disapproving father,” Gabe said.

Madison’s smile was cut short when the pain in her left cheek kicked in. “Hey, I’m all he’s got.” Then she added quietly, “He was really scared tonight.”

Gabe reached across the table and took her hand. “He wasn’t the only one.”

In a normal tone, his voice moved things deep inside her. His words now were delivered with such husky tenderness that she felt as if molten lava was ready to erupt right out of her pores.

Her skin beneath his touch sparked with life . . . and need. It was the need that crippled her, stole her reason, and her breath. She’d never
needed
like this.

His gaze held the same longing that strangled her words in her throat. The gravitational pull of his nearness had her moving from her own chair and settling herself on his lap.

When he caressed her injured cheek, his touch was feather light and the look in his eyes showed more pain than any of her own physical injuries.