Savior in the Saddle (8 page)

Brandon made a sound, deep within his throat. A sort of rumbling. That sound stirred through her as well. So did his scent. Something manly and woodsy. That scent alerted every part of her body that hadn’t already been alerted.

“This can’t happen,” she whispered.

“Yeah.”

But the single word had hardly left his mouth when he dragged her to him and put his lips on hers. His scent had caused a jolt, but the kiss created an avalanche.

Willa found herself sliding her arms around him and pulling him closer. She found herself deepening the kiss. And she found herself getting lost in the steamy maze of passion she immediately knew she couldn’t control. She was on fire, and her body was urging her to keep pulling him closer, to keep kissing him, to continue this insanity no matter the cost.

If she’d thought his scent had her hormonal number, his taste was even more potent. That taste drew her in. And so did Brandon’s embrace. His kiss was gentle and left her with no doubts that it was exactly what she wanted.

But shouldn’t have.

Willa latched on to that thought and kept mentally repeating it. However, she wasn’t the one to stop the kiss. It was Brandon. He eased her away from him and glanced at the monitor.

“I have to keep you safe,” he said with a lot of regret and heavy breath in his voice.

Since safety was the main reason they were here in the car, Willa had no comeback for that. He did need to keep an eye on the monitor. He needed to protect her because that was the only way to keep her baby safe. Still, it was a battle to get herself to move away from him.

Willa settled into the seat and tried to level her breathing. Her body was still on fire, but her brain just kept reminding her that she had done the right thing by stopping the makeout session—even if it felt wrong.

“Are you sure we weren’t lovers?” she asked, trying to keep things light.

“I’m sure.” There was no lightness in his voice. It was strained, just like his expression. The need was still in his intense brown eyes. But the corner of his mouth lifted. “Trust me, I would have remembered having sex with you.”

Yes. And even with her amnesia, Willa thought she might have remembered, too. Brandon had a unique way of being unforgettable.

Well, maybe.

She glanced down at the PDA cupped in her hand and scrolled through the photos and information she’d stored there. She remembered everything she’d recorded for the past two weeks. Prior to that, her memory was spotty and prior to that, there were huge gaps. Two weeks wasn’t nearly enough time for her to trust herself. So, Willa began making notes. About the attack from Martin Shore. About Brandon.

About everything.

She had to get everything down before she fell asleep, and that wouldn’t be long. Despite the fiery kiss and Brandon’s closeness, her body would soon have to rest.

“The night can be the worst time for me,” she explained to Brandon as she continued to type. “Sometimes, when I wake up, everything in my memory is gone.”

And she meant
everything.

He stayed quiet a moment. “What should I do if that happens?”

“Run,” she joked. But then she shook her head. “I’ll be confused. I might even try to attack you because I won’t know who you are. But just remind me that your picture is in here.” She tapped her PDA.

Brandon looked at it, then at her. His gaze lingered a moment on her face, and on a heavy breath, he turned back to the monitor.

“Sleep,” he insisted.

She nodded but didn’t close her eyes. Willa pulled the covers to her chin, snuggling them around her so she’d stay warm, but she fastened her attention to the monitor. Thanks to the four cameras, every angle of the house and attached garage were covered. Even in the darkness, they would be able to see someone approaching.

Hopefully, it would stay that way, but Willa had a bad feeling that things were about to get a whole lot worse.

BRANDON POPPED ANOTHER mint in his mouth and wished it were a big gulp of strong coffee. He needed a hit of caffeine badly, but he didn’t want to go back inside the house to see if there was any. That would mean either waking Willa or leaving her alone.

He had no plans to do either.

Since the monitor for the security cameras would alert him to any movement around the house, Brandon had managed a couple of catnaps, but with each one, the nightmares had come.

He glanced at Willa who was sleeping soundly in the reclined seat. The covers had shifted, draping down below her left breast. Brandon eased the cover back in place. He noticed her PDA then. It had slipped from her hand and was now on the console between them.

Was there something stored in the PDA that would help the cops stop another hostage situation? Maybe. Maybe it also contained something that would help Willa restore her memory. At least that was the justification he used when he read the first page entry.

Your name is Willa Marks, and you have amnesia and post-concussional neurosis, also called short-term memory loss. Everything you need to know is on this PDA.

There was a list of places where she had cash stored and her doctor’s phone number, followed by a list of rules. Well, two rules to be specific.

Number one: don’t trust the cops.

Number two: stay in hiding.

Neither was a surprise. Twice Willa had nearly been killed when she’d trusted the cops. If their positions had been reversed, he might have written the same damn memos.

He scrolled down farther to the next entry that Willa had labeled Latest Update.

The man beside me is Sheriff Brandon Ruiz. My baby’s father. Use caution. He has secrets.

“Secrets?” he mumbled. Yeah, he had them.

Well, one anyway. But it was a secret that could affect everything.

What the hell was he going to do about Willa and the baby?

She needed help, all right. But she needed someone with less emotional baggage than he had. He certainly didn’t fit the bill.

Frustrated with that and the lack of news about the case, Brandon took out his phone and sent a text message to Cash to see if there was an update. The moment he hit the send button, he heard the beep. It was so soft that it was barely audible, but it went through him as if it’d been a shout.

Brandon’s gaze flew to the monitor. He checked the feed from all the cameras and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Well, not at first anyway. He moved closer to the screen, trying to pick through the pitchy darkness of the tiny images.

There.

Beneath the bedroom window.

He spotted the man dressed head to toe in black. His movement had obviously triggered the perimeter security sensor. Brandon watched as the man lifted his hand and bashed something against the glass in the window.

“Willa,” Brandon whispered. “We have to get out of here now.”

Her eyes flew open, and she gave the seat a quick adjustment so she was in a sitting position. Her attention went straight to the monitor.

“Is it Shore?” she asked.

“I can’t tell.” But Brandon would put money on the fact that it was the assassin. If not, then it was someone equally dangerous.

“Put on your seat belt,” Brandon instructed. He did the same. “And stay down. The second I open the garage door, I’m driving out of here fast.”

That was a risk, of course, because Shore could shoot at them, but Brandon knew that was a risk he had to take—especially when he saw the man toss something through the broken bedroom window.

Hell.

It could be another grenade. And if it was, the explosion could easily destroy the garage, or at minimum, the damage from a blast could trap them inside.

Brandon started the car and hit the remote opener clipped to the visor. It seemed to take way too long for the door to lift, and with each passing second, he prayed that Shore wouldn’t have time to make it to the front of the garage entrance so he could shoot at them head-on.

As soon as Brandon had clearance to get out of the garage, he jammed his foot on the accelerator, and the car bolted out into the darkness.

The shot came almost immediately and shattered the back windshield.

“Stay down!” he reminded Willa, though he knew that might not be enough. Bullets could go through seats as easily as they could through glass.

The sound of the second shot drowned out his repeated warning for her to stay down. The bullet tore through what was left of the safety glass, and the shooter quickly followed it up with a third and fourth shot. But that wasn’t all. Behind them, there was an explosion, and both the house and the garage burst into fireballs.

Brandon didn’t dare risk looking at Willa to make sure she was okay because he had to focus on getting them away from the shooter.

He headed for the road and glanced in the side mirror to see if the gunman was in pursuit. It was impossible to tell, but it was obvious the guy was still in shooting range because yet another bullet tore through the side of the car. Thank God the shots missed the tires or their chances of escape would drop significantly.

The shots stopped, and Brandon continued to tear his way down the country road. He had to slow down to take a sharp curve, but as soon as he could, he sped up again.

He saw the headlights then.

They flared on behind them, and even though Brandon couldn’t see their attacker, he figured the guy had hidden his vehicle nearby. He’d probably killed the car lights so that they wouldn’t be alerted. The plan might have worked, too, if Brandon hadn’t suspected there might be an attack and set up those security cameras.

Beside him, he could hear Willa’s heavy breathing, and from the corner of his eye, he could see that she had her hands splayed protectively over her belly.

“He’s following us, isn’t he?” she asked. Her voice was raspy and thick.

Brandon glanced in the side mirror and saw the headlights. The guy was definitely in pursuit. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Hang on.”

He took the next turn faster than he should have, and Brandon fought with the steering wheel to keep his vehicle on the road. He hated putting Willa through this, but there was no other choice. With Willa in the car, he couldn’t risk stopping to have a showdown with this SOB. Later though, he hoped he got the chance to beat this guy to dust.

The anger roared through Brandon, and he could feel the dangerous energy course in his blood. With it, came the flashbacks. Like the nightmares, they were always there, ready to rear their ugly heads. He pinned his attention to the road, to the curves, and forced the old demons to remain at bay.

“Where are we going?” she asked. She levered herself up just a fraction to check her side mirror, but Brandon caught onto her shoulder and shoved her back down.

“Once we get to the highway, I’ll drive toward San Antonio. Maybe I can lose him on the interstate and if not, maybe the traffic will get him to back off.”

Both possibilities were long shots, but they were the only shots that Brandon had.

“Should I call 9-1-1?” Willa asked. But she hadn’t said it eagerly, more as a last resort.

It was a last resort they couldn’t risk.

“No,” he answered. He could have sworn he heard her sigh with relief.

He took another curve, then another, but the vehicle stayed behind them. Too close. And worse, it was gaining. The only good thing about their situation was that the driver wouldn’t be able to fire at them while trying to maintain the speed. Still, that didn’t mean they were safe.

Brandon reached a straight stretch of the road and was able to go faster. So did the other car, and it closed in. The driver had on his high beams, making it hard for Brandon to see, but he could tell the vehicle was an SUV. It was much larger and faster than the car he was driving, so the SUV quickly ate up the distance between them.

“Hold on,” Brandon warned Willa.

Just as the SUV smashed into their rear bumper.

Brandon fought to keep the car on the road, and he didn’t let up on the accelerator. He continued to race toward the highway. If his calculations were correct, that was less than a mile away.

The SUV rammed into them again, and the jolt sent them both snapping in their seats. He bit back some profanity and prayed all this jostling around wouldn’t hurt the baby or Willa. While he was praying, he added that he could get them safely out of there.

There was another sharp curve, and then the road stretched out again in a straight line. The SUV’s driver took advantage of it and slammed into the back of their car again. Brandon kept a tight grip on the steering wheel, somehow managing to keep the car on the road.

Finally, he spotted the highway, and Brandon took the turn on what had to be two wheels. He quickly righted the car and took off.

Despite the late hour, it wasn’t long before he spotted another vehicle just ahead of them. Brandon raced toward it and hoped there would be others to deter the SUV driver from another attack.

The SUV stayed close, and Brandon braced himself in case they were rammed again, but the guy stayed back.

Brandon passed the other vehicle but then slowed, hoping to keep the car between them and the SUV.

“Are we losing him?” Willa asked.

“Not just yet.”

There were several other vehicles just ahead on the highway, and Brandon got as close to them as possible. The seconds clicked off in his head, and he held his breath until he saw the cluster of lit buildings at an exit. He wouldn’t leave the highway just yet, but only a few miles ahead was the exit for the county sheriff’s office and the fire department. He would get off the highway there and, if necessary, he’d even pull into the sheriff’s parking lot.

Willa sat up just a fraction and glanced in the side mirror. She stared back at the SUV that was now several cars behind them. “Shore came out into the open at the rental house so he could follow us,” she reminded him. “Neither the neighborhood street nor the traffic stopped him.”

Yeah. Brandon was aware of that. And that was one of the reasons the knot in his gut had tightened to the point of being painful. If that was Shore in the SUV, then why had he backed off? Of course, the answer might be that it wasn’t Shore.