Safe from Harm (Protect & Serve #2)(86)

Another loud pop made her flinch, fully expecting to feel the impact of a bullet in her back. But when she felt no pain, she sent a glance over her shoulder to check for her pursuer.

No one was there. Thank God! Maybe she’d—

The sudden impact as she collided with another mass sent her sprawling on her back, knocking the air from her lungs. The next thing she knew, Jeremy Monroe was standing over her, a shotgun pointed at her chest.

“Don’t move,” he ordered.

Tears of frustration rushed to her throat, choking her, but she closed her eyes, swallowed past them, and tried to slow her ragged breathing. When she opened her eyes, Jeremy was still staring down at her, his brows drawn together as if he was undecided what to do with her now that he’d caught her.

“Let me go,” she said softly. “You don’t want to do this, Jeremy.”

She saw his throat work as he swallowed hard. He licked his lips, then glanced around, checking for others. Then he bent forward, looking anguished as he said, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but—”

“Good job, boy,” came a rough voice from behind him.

Jeremy instantly snapped upright but gave Elle a pleading look, silently begging her not to betray him. Jeb Monroe appeared next to his son, a smug sneer draped across his cruel mouth. “Well, now, where do you think you’re running off to? It’s not very polite to leave without saying good-bye.” He then gestured to someone out of Elle’s line of sight. “Get her on her feet.”

Jeb’s brother Dave stepped forward and grabbed her arm, dragging her roughly to her feet. She winced in pain from the cut on her arm.

The men dragged her along with them to the ATVs. “You go on,” Jeb said to his son and brother. “I’ll bring her up.”

As soon as the other two started up the ATVs and drove back to the house, Jeb pulled Elle toward the house. “You’re proving more trouble than you’re worth.”

“Guess you should let me go then,” she hissed.

He chuckled, making her skin crawl. “You know I can’t do that,” he told her. “Not now.”

“The Sheriff’s Department knows where I am. They’re going to realize I’m missing,” she assured him. “There’s no denying your role in everything this time.”

“I have no intention of denying anything.” The grin he gave her was chilling. “In fact, I’m looking forward to whole Dawson family showing up—especially Gabe Dawson rushing in here in all his arrogance, thinking he can rescue his beloved whore. His brothers won’t be far behind, I’m sure.”

The man was a fanatic—that she already knew. But the look on his face told her he was no longer concerned about being cautious. Jeb Monroe was more dangerous than ever.

When they reached the house, Jeb shoved her inside and motioned at this wife. “Bandage that cut up. Don’t want her bleeding all over the carpet.”

Janice came forward, her head bowed in deference. The woman was clearly broken. She led Elle to the sofa where Sandra sat, her eyes staring out at nothing as she rocked a little. Whatever the poor girl had been through, her physical wounds were nothing compared to what her emotional wounds must be.

Jeb walked to the window and peered outside, watching the driveway that led up to the house while Janice cleaned Elle’s cut with peroxide and covered it with a couple of Band-Aids. At one point, she lifted her eyes and met Elle’s gaze, then abruptly shifted her gaze to the left, gesturing for Elle to look that way.

Elle felt suddenly cold in spite of the summer heat.

A boy of perhaps twelve or thirteen years old sat in a wooden chair in the next room, his arms tied behind his back, his feet bound at the ankles, his mouth covered with duct tape. His cheek was bruised and swollen, and his eyes were red, as if he’d been crying recently.

Sweet Jesus.

Now Elle understood how Janice was persuaded to call Elle and trap her into coming out to the farm. Janice had told her Jeb had threatened to kill her children. It appeared their youngest son had been the particular target.

And now Elle had become the bait to draw Gabe and his brothers right into this monster’s lair, into the trap he’d set and was ready to spring.

Tears pricked her eyes when she thought of how she and Gabe had left things, how the last words he might hear from her were words of anger. She hoped she’d have the chance to tell him again how much she loved him, how she couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone else. She longed to once more feel his arms around her, to know the warmth of his love.

And yet it was that very same love, from the heart of a man whose loyalty and duty were the most steadfast of anyone she’d ever known, that was most likely leading him to his death.

*

Gabe glanced at the speedometer, cursing his inability to go any faster. As he got closer to the coordinates Frank had given him, he studied the edges of the road, searching the fields and tree lines, searching for any sign of the missing cab. Suddenly a blur of yellow among rusted-out shells of various cars and vans in a makeshift junkyard near a copse of trees caught his attention.

He whipped the Tahoe over to the side of the road and drew his weapon as he leaped from the SUV and hurried toward the trees where the car was parked. As he got closer, he slowed his pace, keeping his weapon at the ready as he approached with caution. He was still several feet away when he saw the blood splatter on the driver’s side door.