True Colors (41 page)

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Authors: Joyce Lamb

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: True Colors
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“It doesn’t work that way.”
“Just try. Please. For me.”
She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. “They escaped.”
“They? Butch wasn’t the only one?”
“There were two others. We . . . they killed their captor. Beat him first, then Butch killed him with a stun gun.”
“Holy shit.”
“Brian sat on the bed like we were all supposed to, and Chad hid behind the door, and I . . .
Butch
—”
“Wait. Chad? Chad
Ellis
?”
“I didn’t catch a last name.”
“Son of a bitch. This
is
about Brian Lear. I ruled him out because he didn’t have a brother. But he and Butch must have
considered
themselves brothers.”
Right, that’s right, she thought.
We’re brothers, though, right? That means we stick together?
“I shot and killed Brian Lear,” Logan went on. “The night I stumbled into the prostitution ring in Detroit. Chad Ellis, the ring leader, was arrested and went to prison. Butch was probably involved, too, but Chad never once mentioned him. Or maybe Butch was out doing his own thing and had nothing to do with the operation. Either way, that’s the connection.” He yanked on his hands so hard he winced. “Not that any of that helps in getting us the hell out of here.”
The thought of Butch coming back sent her heart rate into the red zone all over again, compelled her to twist her wrists more urgently, no longer feeling the pain. She couldn’t do it again, couldn’t handle another nightmare trek.
“Alex, I can see blood dripping behind your chair. Did he do something to you? Did he cut you?”
She wrenched harder, desperation bearing down. “When he comes back, if he . . . if I get stuck in his past again . . . you have to find a way to get loose and hit me.”
Logan gaped at her. “Jesus, Alex.”
“
Hard
. Hit me as hard as it takes to get me out. Promise.”
His face went sheet pale. “I can’t—”
“It’s not about you striking me, Logan. It’s about protecting me from a nightmare. I want you . . . I
need
you to—” Her voice broke. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep taking trips into his mind. It’s . . . it’s . . . changing me.”
“Alex, please. Don’t—”
“You have to promise. Do it for me.”
“Fine,” Logan said, the word barely audible.
“Thank you.”
He snorted his displeasure at what he no doubt considered displaced gratitude but said nothing.
She sighed and wet her lips. Exhaustion weighed down her shoulders, pressed on her chest. She’d never felt so hopeless, so . . . dark.
“Listen,” Logan said. “I’ve managed to loosen the rope around my wrists.”
It took her a moment to process that. How could he have loosened his rope when hers stayed frustratingly secure in spite of the blood trickling down her hands? And then she knew why. She knew Butch, after all. “It’s a trap.”
“Really? But—”
“He’s not sloppy. It has to be a trap.”
“But he can’t know for sure that he can control me.”
“He’s a psychopath, Logan. It wouldn’t occur to him that he
can’t
control you.”
“Just—” He broke off and his gaze locked on hers as his whole body went rigid.
She’d heard it, too. The opening and closing of a door somewhere in the house.
Butch was back.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
L
ogan held Alex’s gaze for a long moment, trying to tell her without words that everything would be okay, they’d get out of this, before Butch intruded. The despondency in her expression worried him, though. The bruise on her face, its darkness reflected in her eyes . . . well, that just infuriated him. Butch McGee would pay for that. All of it.
As soon as he worked his hands free.
His heart raced with the need to hurry.
“Ah, so the happy couple is awake,” Butch said in a singsongy voice as he ambled into the massive living room.
Logan immediately noticed the bandage on his lower forearm, blood spots soaking through in two somewhat parallel lines. Like rows of teeth. “What happened to your arm, Butch? You have a run-in with a pissed-off German shepherd?” he said, hoping to steer the man’s attention away from Alex.
Butch’s jaw tightened, but he ignored Logan to bestow an adoring smile on her. He made sure to angle his body so Logan had a full view of every move he made, though.
“I’m sorry for my abrupt departure earlier,” Butch told her.
“You didn’t have that bandage before.” Her eyes blazed with anger . . . and renewed hope. “You lied about killing Dieter.”
“I
implied
,” Butch said. “In fact, I planned to kill him, but then I saw how much the devil dog means to you and changed my mind. Instead, I’ve expanded the beast’s role in tonight’s festivities.”
He tilted his head and studied her so speculatively that Logan’s legs began to twitch. If only he could—yank, yank—get—yank, yank—loose.
Butch sighed. “I’m sorry for this.” He tried to stroke his fingertips over the bruise on her cheek, but she pulled back before he could make contact. Which just multiplied the size of his smile. “I’m afraid I lost control. It won’t happen again. At least, not in a way that’s unproductive.”
“Leave her alone,” Logan ground out. If his hands had been free, they would have been clamped around the bastard’s throat. Just the thought of Butch touching Alex, even without the empathic spike through her heart, set his brain on fire. “Your beef is with me.”
Butch cut his gaze to Logan, his smile turning bitter. “Surely you’ve figured out by now that I prefer to hurt you the same way you hurt me. Through someone you care about.”
“It’s not the same. Alex hasn’t done anything to you. And Brian tried to kill me. Right after he murdered a defenseless child.”
Butch turned more fully toward Logan. “Ah, so you
do
remember my brother.”
“Alex helped me to remember. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You shouldn’t punish her for helping you.”
“You’re acting as if life is fair, and we all know it’s not.”
“You’ve already hurt her enough to punish me for a lifetime. Start on me now.”
“Logan, no.”
He ignored Alex’s soft plea. He knew she feared Butch would flat-out kill rather than toy with him. Her concern for him hardened the lump in his throat. He’d failed to protect her from so much, and look how it had worn her down. He wouldn’t fail her anymore, damn it.
“It’s
my
turn,” Logan insisted, his attention locked on Butch. “Make me pay for killing Brian and sending Chad to prison. I took both your brothers from you. They were all you had of family.”
Butch’s lips twitched. “You think you can manipulate me that easily?”
“I think you’re a sick son of a twisted bitch, and if my hands were free, I’d kill you and enjoy it. Just like I enjoyed putting a bullet in your brother’s head.”
“Logan, God,” Alex said. “Don’t.”
“You should listen to her.” Butch’s voice was low now, and rough, as though Logan had squarely hit the nerve he’d aimed for. “She knows me pretty well.”
“Yeah? She knows what I know. You tie up helpless women and use them for your own sick pleasure and then you kill them. You can’t even kill like a man, can you, Butch? A man would cut them loose, give them a fighting chance. But you’re a coward. A weak, pathetic coward. You’re the pussiest of the pussies.”
Butch, his face flaming red, lunged at Logan and struck him with the back of his hand.
Logan’s head whipped back under the force of the blow, and the taste of blood only enhanced his satisfaction. He had the psycho’s attention. Just like he wanted.
He spat a wad of blood onto the carpet at Butch’s feet. “You hit like a girl, Butch. Don’t you even know how to make a fist? That must be why you have to tie up your victims. Because you know you can’t control them. If they got in one little slap, you’d have to run crying to your mommy.”
Butch strode to the lineup of knives on the floor and snatched one up, a long one with a wide, serrated blade, then stalked toward Logan, murder gleaming in his eyes.
“His name isn’t Butch.” Alex’s even, calm voice didn’t sound at all like she addressed a crazy man about to take a slash at her lover. “His name is Tyler. Tyler Ambrose.”
Butch stopped in midstride, and Logan’s insides twitched. Shut up, Alex. Jesus.
Butch’s shoulders relaxed some as he turned toward her.
Logan’s heart clattered with fear, but he took advantage of the opportunity to tear at the bindings at his wrists. Almost there. Come on, come on.
“I’m not Tyler anymore.” Butch’s tone was just as calm as Alex’s had been. “I haven’t been for a long time.”
“That’s what he
made
you think,” she said. “That’s why he changed your name. Because he wanted to make you into someone you’re not. Someone you never wanted to be.”
“Not at first. But that changed.”
“He didn’t give you a choice. You were only a kid. What were you supposed to do? He kept hurting you. It was only natural that you’d take the opportunity to let someone else hurt for a while. You’re only human, Tyler.”
“Tyler,” Butch repeated softly, almost reverently.
Logan, stunned that she seemed to be getting through, felt the rope give a little more and stifled a triumphant grunt.
“You don’t want to hurt anyone anymore,” Alex said, soothing. “I can help you. No one understands, not like I do. I’ve been there, Tyler. In your head. I can help you explain everything. We can find your mother. She’d be so happy to see you again. Her sweet little blond-haired boy.”
Logan managed to pull his hands a few inches apart.
“You want to see her again, don’t you?” Alex asked Butch. “You want to see your mother?”
“She let me go. She should have kept looking.”
“She did,” Alex said. “She’s been looking all these years. Your name is in a database of missing children. Why would your name be in there if she didn’t want to find you?”
Butch moved toward her, the knife clenched tight in his hand.
Logan’s fingers blindly fumbled with the knot as sweat began to run down his temple. At the same time, he noticed that the blood spatter on the floor at the back of Alex’s chair had widened. Had she gotten her hands apart? Jesus, was she free?
“You don’t want to hurt anyone anymore, Tyler,” she said. “It’s not who you are.”
“You think you know me. You think that a few glimpses of my past are all it takes to understand who I am. You’re wrong, you know. You’re so very wrong.”
Logan pulled the knot apart and shook his hands loose. Yes! He kept them behind his back, though, and put the scowl back on his face. If he’d thought he could get to Butch before the psycho had time to plunge the knife into Alex’s throat, this would have been over by now.
“All of this? Here and now? It isn’t about me,” Butch said, circling behind her chair, narrowed eyes fixed on Logan over the top of her dark head. “It’s about
him
. About what he took from me.”
Butch reached around Alex with the knife, his smug gaze never straying from Logan, and traced the blade, featherlight, over her collar bone and toward the hollow of her throat.
She didn’t flinch, didn’t breathe, as her gaze, deep and dark, met Logan’s. Her lips moved, formed three silent words that shook his world as much as the sight of that blade hovering over her jugular.
I love you.
“This is what I’m taking from you,” Butch said to Logan. “Watch carefully.”
Alex closed her eyes. “Tyler—”
“I’m not Tyler!” He jerked the knife up under her chin, nicking her skin.
Logan launched himself out of his chair, her pained gasp and the sight of the slow dribble of blood down her throat more than he could stand.
Butch, a feral, satisfied grin curving his mouth, whipped the stun gun out of the holster on his belt and fired.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
A
lex couldn’t stop the scream as Logan fell, his body going violently haywire.
Butch laughed while Logan jolted on the carpet. “What took you so damn long, hero? I figured you’d be free of those pitiful knots by the time I got back. Who’s the pussy now?”
Butch swaggered over and kicked Logan viciously in the ribs. “I’m not done yet, you stupid bastard. I’m going to kill her slowly. She’s going to scream like you’ve never heard a woman—”
He broke off and half turned toward Alex, as though he’d sensed rather than heard her move. But he was too late, and his eyes widened in stunned disbelief, his breath catching on a shocked gasp as she drove the knife between his ribs and into his heart.

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