Trust Me (7 page)

“Hello, Shelly.”

She lay there, watching him near. He was the only one who’d insisted on calling her Shelly. Telling her that they weren’t inbred backwoods southerners who had to use two names. It never occurred to him that she’d been born and raised in Michigan and had only moved south for school. That and her family wasn’t inbred.

Now, years later, she recognized the condescending smile for what it was. The man was an asshole, plain and simple. Her fear overrode her anger at what he’d done to her. All that therapy wasted, for it wasn’t doing her a bit of good. Who knew what he had in store for her this time.

“No greeting for your husband?”

“You’re her ex-husband, you fuck.”

Derek’s voice was a godsend, she couldn’t begin to explain her relief that he wasn’t dead.

“Why is he still alive?” Dillon’s question was asked in the same monotone he used when he’d stabbed her. Like it was any other day. No anger in his tone, no emotion of any kind.

“You paid us to get her and the guy she was with here. So, here they are.” Broad shoulders rested his left hand on the butt of his sidearm.

Perhaps he was scared of Dillon as well. She wouldn’t blame him if he had any inclination of what this man was capable of.

“Look at me, Shelly Marie.”

Derek’s raspy words poured hope into her. He was here with her. No doubt Adam was on his way. She would survive this and solider on. Listening to the Navy man, she blinked back tears as his battered face met her. The men didn’t hurt her but they sure as hell did a number on him.

“Everything is going to be okay.” His words were full of confidence and she wanted to believe him so much. But she’d gone through this with Dillon.

Dillon tugged on the sleeve of his lambskin coat and cocked his head to the side. “You really think it’s going to be okay? I find that fascinating.”

He stroked his fingers along his jaw as he neared Derek. For a moment, he stared at him unmoving.

“Ask me if I give a fuck.”

“You I am going to kill, but probably not slowly. First, I think. Then again, it may be better if I leave you hanging there while I deal with my wife.”

Derek spat blood at him. “Ex-wife.”

“You keep saying that like your opinion matters. She is mine. We vowed before God ’til death do us part.” His gaze flicked back to her and she gulped as new fear rushed over her.

“Shelly Marie.”

“Derek,” she whispered his name.

Dillon stepped between them blocking her view. “You don’t get to speak to my wife with such intimacy. She is mine. Mine to do with as I will. I’ve played with her, and when she ran I realized she and I would never be apart.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “She survived and I’m not letting that joy out of my life. I’ve followed her, toyed with her, and I’m going to keep her.” He pulled out a gun and shot him. “You shouldn’t have touched her because she belongs to me.”

She trembled as tears streamed down her cheeks. “You killed him,” she gasped. “You killed him.”

“He died quickly, which is more than I can say is going to happen for you.” Dillon faced her, his expression again one of complete calm. “You allowed another man to soil you. He touched you. Did you fuck him? Did you bend over and take it up the ass like the dirty whore I know you to be?”

“I’ve never fucked him.”

“You are living in his house, ran to him after all this time. I knew there was someone before me and I knew if I pushed you enough, you’d run to him, and you did. You do know you killed him, right?”

“I never slept with him, he’s the brother of the guy I went to.”

“Brother?” One eyebrow rose.

Bile rushed up to linger in her mouth. “Yes, you sick fuck. I’m not going to beg you. You won’t break me so you may as well kill me now.”

For the first time emotion leaked into his eyes. But it wasn’t surprise or admiration that filled them. It was excitement and she knew it was for the challenge of doing exactly what she’d just claimed he wouldn’t be able to accomplish.

“Is that what you think?” His words were smooth, like the cognac he used to love drinking in the evenings.

She didn’t know how he did it but one second passed and Dillon held a knife in his hand as he prowled toward her.

“You really think I can’t make you beg? Do you think that the thirty-six stab wounds I gave you was anything compared to what I’m going to do to you this time? You ran from me. From our marriage.”

“You stabbed me and threw me through the shower glass wall,” she screeched back, pushed too far to think screaming at him may not be the best thing to do.

“You didn’t respect what we had,” he uttered, an edge creeping into his tone.

She swallowed. “I never cheated on you. I didn’t deserve any of this. I alienated my family because I thought I loved you.”

“You
do
love me,” he hissed, his calm vanishing like mist in the morning sun.

“How the hell do you think I could ever love a man who would hurt me like you did?”

“You had to be taught a lesson.”

Closer and closer he came. “You stabbed me. Thirty-six times. What the fuck kind of lesson was I supposed to learn from that other than hate. I hate you. And I will not mourn your death. I’ll celebrate it.”

“We’ll die together.”

“No, we won’t. We won’t do anything together. Not ever again. It doesn’t matter what you do to me. I won’t ever love you all I feel for you is hatred.”

The corner of his left eye jumped and she recognized the sign of him losing his temper. “You love me,” he insisted. “There is a very fine line between love and hate. You’re confused. You’ve always needed direction from me.”

“I never needed direction from you. You needed to order me about and you’re wrong. For most there may be a thin line but for you and I, that line is wider than the Grand Canyon. Don’t mistake one for the other because you can rest assured what I feel for you is hate.”

“I’m going to kill him you know, this man who soiled yourself with.”

“Good luck with that,” she said, wriggling her wrists in a meager attempt to get some feeling in them.

“I have talents you don’t know about. At least, not yet.”

Is it possible to be even more scared that I was the first time?
Unequivocally yes since she knew what was in store for her. The pain, the torture.

“Perhaps. But each second you’re doing whatever it is you are going to do to me, I’ll be in a place you can’t touch. I’ll be reliving his touch. The caresses, the kisses, everything wonderful he gave me that you never could.” She shifted on that cold floor. “You can kill me but just know he’ll be the thing that I’m focused on as I die. I let my fear of you for the last five years ruin my life but I’ll not allow that to be the last thing on my mind when I leave this world.”

And there it was. That rage which she’d seen that night he’d nearly killed her. It morphed his attractive features into a mask of rage and fury. She closed her eyes on that, drawing up a mental recreation of Adam.

She winced when he gripped her hair and yanked her to a seated position. Seconds later his grip fell away and she heard him hit the ground. She opened her eyes to see Adam stride in the door, firing as he moved. Behind him came Wild, the men moving together in a synchronization that was beautiful. The tears leaking from her eyes this time were from relief.

Wild headed for Derek while Adam crouched before her, a knife in hand. He slicked through the bindings and hauled her close.

“Jesus Christ, Pix.” He kissed her repeatedly. “I thought I’d lost you again.”

It was heaven to have his strong arms around her. She glazed over the still body of Dillon and on to Derek who was being cut free from the ropes dangling him from the ceiling.

“Derek?” She gulped and tried not to dig her fingers into Adam’s arms. “Is…is he…?”

“Wild? How’s he doing?”

“I have to get him to a hospital or he’s not going to make it.”

“Let’s go,” Adam said, scooping her up in his arms. She didn’t fight him on it, her throbbing leg alerting her she wouldn’t be putting weight on it anytime soon.

Her own fear and discomfort was pushed to the back as he put her in the rear of the SUV with Wild and Derek. At his side, she pressed on one of the gunshot wounds trying to slow the bleeding. The sudden movement of the vehicle tossed her to the floor and she scrambled back to Derek, ignoring the spear of pain. All she could think about was how much this was her entire fault.

αβ

Adam paced the floor of his living room as he stared at his mother, Rhodi, and Karen.

“How is she?” his mother asked.

“Sleeping. Broken leg from the crash. Wild called from the hospital, Derek has made it through surgery. Are you sure all of you are okay?”

His mother got to her feet and pressed a kiss to his cheek before scooping up her grandson and heading to the kitchen. Karen followed.

Rhodi leaned against the mantle and crossed his arms. “We’re fine. What about that Dillon guy?”

“Dead.” His one word response was arctic cold. He cracked his neck.

“His men.”

“Followed him to hell.”

“So it’s over then.”

He raked a hand through his hair, aware his brother was asking a question in regards to him and Shelly Marie.

“She’s going to blame herself for what happened to Derek. Then she’s going to run.”

Rhodi pursed his lips. “Derek’s been having a shit storm for a while. He was just back to normal after that stint down in Guatemala. As for Shelly Marie, you have to know she’s going to need some time to come to terms with all of this. She’s been living out of a bag and looking over her shoulder for the past five years. Do you really think all is going to be okay in her mind just because the fuck is dead?”

“I want to say yes. Shit, I promised her that he wouldn’t get to her again. I can’t even keep her safe, what the fuck am I doing in this line of work?”

“Don’t start that, Adam. He had mercs working for him. She’s alive and she’ll survive. You saved her. Lord knows what that bastard had planned for her. The sheriff said the man had a plane waiting to take off. So after they killed Derek they were taking her somewhere else. It was an international flight plan.”

“He tried to kill Derek. I’m still not sure how he didn’t die.”

“He’s too damn ornery to do that. Kind of like you.”

Adam heard the underlying concern for their younger brother in Rhodi’s tone despite the words. He pivoted on his heel and strode from the room.

“Don’t worry,” Rhodi called out after him. “We’ll see ourselves out.”

Good, he needed to see Shelly Marie and reassure himself she was in the house with him. She lay swallowed up by his large bed. He’d refused to leave her in the hospital so once she’d been checked out, he brought her home.

Yes home.

Her red hair juxtaposed against the pale off white of his comforter. She was so tiny. He ripped off his shirt and crawled into bed with her. Drawing her in close, he buried his nose into her hair, desperate for her to wake so he could hear her voice, feel the caress of her touch.

Adam dozed off and woke when she tried to slide from his arms. He tightened them around her.

“Where are you going? Are you in pain?”

“I was going to get dressed and see about finding something to eat.” Her words were low and rasped.

He kissed her temple and rolled from the bed. Tossing his shirt in her direction, he waited for her to tug it on then he helped her up.

“I have crutches, you know.”

He kept her in his arms, carrying her to the living room. “I like carrying you.” He got her settled on the sofa then fixed her a cup of peppermint tea. Handing the cup over, he sat on the coffee table, facing her.

“What do you want to eat?”

“A bowl of soup would be nice.”

“Clam chowder?”

“Sounds divine.” Her smile was forced, he knew because it didn’t reach her eyes.

He handed her the remote and walked away. Damn it all, he wanted to grab her and kiss her. Make her understand she was safe. He hated the fear he could still see lingering in her gaze.

While the soup heated, he cut some sourdough bread chunks and placed them on a plate. She didn’t like saltines or oyster crackers with her soup, but wanted sourdough bread pieces she could dunk in it. Everything loaded on the oak tray, he hefted it and moved back to the living room where she sat in silence, staring out the window. A crocheted blanket lay over her lap and she glanced at him when he walked back in.

“Here you go,” he said, placing the tray down on her thighs. “Leg okay?”

“Other than the itching beneath the cast, fine.”

He reclaimed his seat across from her on the coffee table. Her foot rested beside him.

“You’re staring at me.” A true smile flashed. “Bread chunks.”

“You don’t like crackers. And have an unhealthy obsession with sourdough bread.”

She sent him a mock glare. “It’s not unhealthy. It’s good, true, and honest. No better bread.”

He curled his lip. “Says you.”

“I do.” She groaned as the dipped piece made its way to her mouth. “So damn good. Why do you have it in the house if you hate it?”

“Because you like it.”

“Don’t do that,” she said.

“Do what? Take care of you? Why not? Why can’t I take care of you, Pix?”

Her hand trembled and she put down the spoon. “Do we have to do this now?”

“If not now, when? You’re going to run, we both know it. I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay here. Live with me. Marry me.”

“Seriously? You’re proposing to me, now?”

His bark of unamused laughter filled the air. “You have a time table for that? Something wrong with now?”

“You just rescued me. Your brother almost died. Because of my bad choices.”

“Derek is going to recover and as for you, we all make bad choices. You don’t have the monopoly on that, so don’t even go there.”

“Even you? The Great Adam Wilder? You make bad choices?”

“I do. The top of that list is having let you go the first time.” He leaned forward, arms on his thighs. “Christ, Pix. I love you. Have since our second year together. I don’t want to lose you again.”