Stone Temptation [Texas Stallions 3] (10 page)

She sure as shit shared it with James Ryan.

His teeth clamped down hard. How was it that the deputy was privy to her secrets but the man who’d spent more time with her, befriended her, wasn’t?

What the hell is going on?

Anger and jealousy swirled in his gut. Maybe he’d been a fool to think he could mean more to her than a good-time fuck. Frustrated and confused, he released his hold on her. “You know what, never mind. If you need anything, I’m sure the deputy will be more than willing to help you.” He moved to the door and flung it open hard, slamming against the white-paint-covered Sheetrock.

“Wait,” she cried. “Don’t leave.” The desperation in her voice had him wanting to rush back into the room, sweep her up into his arms, and make love to her until she couldn’t take anymore. He wanted to soothe her, take care of her, but where that need was coming from, he had no idea. He just did.

For a long moment, he stood there with his fists clenched at his sides. He sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly. He turned to face her. “What?” His tone was even, but sharp.

His chest tightened as he locked onto her tear-stained cheeks. Her vulnerable stare ripped the air from his lungs. “You might not care so much about what’s wrong with me once I tell you more about myself.”

His brow furrowed. Stone figured this might be a conversation that required privacy, so he stepped back into the room, closed the door at his back, and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m listening.”

She paced the floor. “There’s no delicate way to say this, so I’m just going to blurt it out,” she said, breathing hard. “When I lived in Houston, I was a prostitute.”

His eyes widened.
Holy shit! That was so not what I thought she was about to say.

“Actually I was a…somehow, I’d managed to attract some high-dollar clients, so it wasn’t like I was giving lap rides for twenty bucks,” she said, sounding defensive. “I earned my way out of that world, but thanks to my shithead brother, Adam, his drug dealer tracked me here. He told me that if my brother didn’t pay him for the drugs he’d sold, he would take the payment out on me.”

Stone rose to his full height. His shoulders rolling forward as his muscles flexed. Everything inside him focused strictly on the danger that lay ahead of them. He’d think about the other stuff later. “Did he follow you to your hotel room? Is that why Deputy Ryan was here?”

She shook her head. “No, James and I had dinner at the diner,” she muttered.

A jealous knot twisted tighter in his stomach. “You did?” His jaw clenched under the strain.
Shit
, he thought he could keep his emotions in check. Why was he so distracted by the deputy? Was he really afraid that James could swoop Gracie off her feet?

“Yes. I had to confront him about our past. I knew James growing up. He was once friends with my brother Adam, but Adam did him wrong, too.”

So that’s why things between her and James were so strange, but familiar. Stone rubbed a stiff hand over the stubble on his chin. It should’ve made him feel better that he hadn’t been here because she liked him, but it didn’t.

Redirecting his thoughts, Stone asked, “So this drug supplier dude was at the diner then?”

“Yes, he and his goons showed up there,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes once again. She moved close to him, their bodies a breath apart. Her eyes searched his. Her sweet, innocent stare was breaking his heart. “Stone, I wanted to start a new life here. If word gets out about my past, I’ll have no choice but to get on the next bus. I won’t stay in a place where I’m ridiculed and made to feel lesser because of a choice I made to survive.”

He couldn’t help himself, he caressed her face. Instinct was driving him to protect her. She was quickly consuming his thoughts and…no, he wasn’t ready to go there. “Gracie, I can’t begin to know what life was like for you. I also can’t say that I like the idea that you sold your body to strangers, but I do know that I don’t want you to be afraid to live your life.” He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “I don’t want to see you hurt.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Would you like for me to stay here tonight in case those assholes come looking for you?”

She nodded. Her arms surrounded his waist and pulled him close. “Yes, Stone, please stay.” Clinging to him, she wrapped herself as tightly as she could around him, anchoring herself to the one person she felt safest with.

His stomach rolled with nerves as he cupped her face in his hands and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Okay, Gracie. I’ll stay.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles. Her eyes darkened. “Go get cleaned up. I’m going to grab some clothes from my room. I’ll be right back, but go ahead and lock the door behind me.”

She held him a minute longer. “Be careful,” she whispered. “I don’t know where they went after we left the diner.”

He grinned at her need to see that he was safe. “I’ll be fine.”

He heard the lock click on her door as he hurried toward his room, his feet moving steadily, but his ears were still focused on the sounds around him. His eyes danced around every obstacle, checking out anything and everything that might seem suspicious. If they knew to find Gracie at the diner, then there was a real good chance they knew where she was staying.

Not like there were tons of lodging options in Temptation, he reminded himself.

Stone pulled his key from his pocket, popped it into the lock, and entered his room. Racing, he grabbed a change of clothes and left his room. Heading back, he noted an unfamiliar car parked differently from the rest. Where most vehicles were parked between the lines, this car, a blacked-out Escalade, sat across those lines. No other cars were next to it, making a quick getaway convenient if necessary.

Even though the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, he did his best to seem unaffected by the possibility that the men Gracie had spoken of sat lurking in that car.

Then he heard it and knew that he was no longer alone.

“So what’s the little slut charging these days?” The stranger’s voice called out from behind him. “I hear she’s pretty tight, for a whore.”

Rounding, Stone took note of the three large men blocking his retreat, and then he felt the presence of a few more filing in on the other side. Inclining his head over his shoulder, he confirmed three more men. All wore black from head to toe.

Shit! A covert slaying, and I’m the slayee.

He prayed that Gracie had enough sense to keep the door locked, no matter what she heard or saw. She’d do him no good if he had to worry that they’d get to her before he could do anything about it. Unless she was packing an M16, it was best she stayed behind secured doors.

Stone wasn’t about to back down, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to let them anywhere near her. The rush of adrenaline pumped through him like lava tearing down a mountainside. He watched everything, heard everything, and prepared for the unexpected. As long as he breathed, he’d protect her. The instinct was primal and powerful. A fevered rush was driving him as skills he’d learned in the military surfaced.

Sarcasm had a way of making him feel slightly more focused and relaxed in high-pressure situations. Sounding like Robert De Niro, Stone asked, “You talkin’ to me?”

“Yes, motherfucker, we’re talking to you,” one of them said with an unappreciated glare.

Seriously? Who uses
motherfucker
anymore? Is that even in style?
Whatever happened to good old
fuck face
or
douchebag
?

Licking his dry lips, Stone warned, “You should do yourselves a favor and leave town while you can. From what I hear people don’t take too kindly to assholes stinking up the place.”

Another bandanna-wearing punk took a step forward, eyeing Stone as if he were ready to pounce. “You’re a real funny guy, baldy.”

Baldy? I bet if he took his damn bandanna off, his scalp would be scraped clean.
Stone rubbed his hand over his head. “Yes, it’s the latest in pretty-boy fashion.”

Stone knew he could hold his own in a fair fight. He also knew he could hold his own against a few who didn’t fight fair, but six? No, he was sure he was about to get his ass handed to him, but he was going to make them feel everything he had before he went down.

“You picked the wrong girl to shack up with,” the guy with the tattoo on his cheek said, peeking out from the back.

Correction, make that seven thugs to kick my ass.

As the tattooed leader stepped forward, the vein in Stone’s neck pulsed, and he remembered what Gracie had told him about the drug dealer wanting to take out the payments owed to him on her. Given the right opportunity, he’d love to see a guy like him suffer for being a dick.

“What do you want with Gracie?”

Now in front of the others, the tattooed leader said, “We’ve got business to discuss. So you’d be wise to get the fuck out of our way before we have to include you in our discussions.”

Not an option. He was not about to let them anywhere near Gracie. They were here to make an example out of her. Seven men to one woman were odds he couldn’t stomach. Hopefully she had put a call out to Clay because things were about to get ugly.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I can’t leave.”

“Then it’s your funeral,” the leader said with a snicker and then indicated with two fingers for his men to move in on Stone.

Ready for action, Stone tossed his extra clothes onto a parked car and ran for the center of the parking lot. He didn’t want to be cornered or pinned. His eyes were laser sharp, searching for each attacker. Then, like a hammer, the first two pounced, slamming themselves into him, tackling him to the ground. The air whooshed from his lungs.

Sucking in a painful breath, he jumped to his feet and elbowed one guy in the face and uppercut the other, sending his fist so hard into his face he heard the sound of bones snapping. Two more were on him before he could even get a solid footing. His ribs and gut took the brunt of the assault, his air fleeing his lungs with every punch. The two who had first attacked took hold of his arms, pulling him back as the other two drilled into his chest and stomach. Over and over again they rammed their hands into his body with a force that left him numb and breathless.

Keeping his body limp, he let them pummel him, wearing them out, all the while praying he would have the physical strength and will to overpower them. Within a few short seconds, he surged to his feet, knocking the two holding him off balance. His feet squared off. Kicking with all his might, he sent one of them sailing back onto the ground. The other tasted the rubber of his boot as he planted it across his jaw and mouth.

Tasting blood, Stone pulled his arms up to guard his chest. He tucked in his elbows, preparing to fist fight anyone who approached him. Without warning a hand struck out, slamming against the side of his head. He stumbled back, collapsing onto the ground. Once again, Stone was punched and kicked in the midsection, grunting from the force. His entire body had been riddled with blows and hits that left him boneless.

So much for being the badass Marine, he thought hazily, struggling to focus. Sheer pain flooded his mind.

Everything moved so quickly. One moment he was standing, fighting with all his strength, and the next he was flat on his ass, clawing to find his footing. Never in all his life had he been beaten so badly. These boys were planning to kill him, he knew as much when he saw the knife in the hands of one of them.

Shaky and weak, he blinked a dozen times to clear his blurry vision. He backed up slowly, hoping to buy enough time that help would arrive. Using himself as a shield for Gracie had been his intentions. Surely the cavalry was on its way.

A quick glance around showed him the four men who were attacking him, and that left three more unaccounted for. Searching, he found them hovering in front of Gracie’s hotel room with a fire-engulfed trash can burning bright. Suddenly, two of them picked up the receptacle and chucked it through the front window. The sound of glass exploding as it struck.

Gracie screamed!

His heart raced. Bile and fear choked him. He had to get to her, had to get her to safety.

By some miracle, the sound of heaven drowned within his ears.
Sirens!
Help had finally arrived. Dropping to the ground, he heard the men around him fleeing, scurrying away like the rats they were.

Gracie!
His mind awakened with the sound of her cries. Scampering to his feet, he charged toward her hotel room. The front was scorched in flames. Running as hard and as fast as his injured body could, he circled around back to the corner unit, punching his fist through the window of the bathroom. Smoke billowed.

“Gracie,” he yelled, but there was no reply. “Gracie!”

As he prepared to enter, he felt her frail hand brush over his arm. Immediately, he clasped his hand around her wrist and yanked her up and out of the window, hauling her into his arms. Her head fell back, her eyes rolling in their sockets.

Weak but determined, he carried Gracie around to the front of the hotel. His eyes focused on the paramedics while his feet pounded onto the hard earth, heavy and rhythmic.

Spotting him, the medical team rushed to render aid. Dropping to his knees, Stone laid her flat on the ground. The medics pushed him aside, focusing on Gracie. As he watched them, his heart beat fast in his chest, slamming against his ribs as if it prepared to launch out. Time didn’t seem to move. The air ripped from his lungs as if he were still being assaulted.