My Biker Bodyguard (20 page)

hard firm line, eyes cast downward. "I didn't care about the
money. I never did. Beth doesn't understand I can't live
without her, and she can't live without me."
He raised his eyes, the hot glare returning. "She was
determined to see you after her father died. I kept some of her
letters from getting to you. I tapped the phones and found out
she was calling her ex, that bum you call father. She was
gonna leave me for him. For you!"
He grabbed her arms in a punishing grip and shook her so
hard, her head hit the wall.
"No…" Jess cried, pushing at his chest. He'd tried to kill
her, had almost killed her mother. The world was ripped out
from beneath her feet again, that sense of sliding darkened her
thoughts. "You tried to kill her!"
"Yes," he said, face collapsing with grief, his grip
loosening. "I would have joined her, if Mitch hadn't
interfered."
Grasping the opportunity, Jess leapt to the left, breaking
out of his grip, and dashed for the door. Hand on the knob, she
yanked hard.
His hand twisted in her hair. "Not so fast."
Her scalped screamed and she cried out.
"There's no where for you to go." Jared pulled her further
back into the room.
Back arched, one hand trying to ease his grip on her hair,
the other waving for balance, she tried to keep up with his
pace. Eyes stinging with tears, she searched for a weapon, any
kind of weapon. Her hand found the arm of the chair in front
of his desk and pulled. Too heavy to lift. "Don't do this."
He dragged her over the desk, her back sliding over the
stapler, the pen holder, her body sending the small lamp
crashing to the floor. The searing burn of her hair overtook all
the small digs and scrapes in her back. Her fingers curled
around a dislodged pen.
With a shout of outrage and fear, she stabbed it deep into
the hand holding her hair. Instantly he cried out and released
her. Without a backward glance, she hopped to her feet and
ran for the door. In the hall she dashed for her room, and the
Glock in her bedside drawer.
Heart pounding blood into her ears, a high-pitched cry
locked in her throat, she kept going, despite the tears in her
eyes. Why hadn't she seen it sooner? Why didn't she notice
Jared's strangely selfish reasons for wanting Beth to be all
right?
"Stop!" Jared shouted behind her, startlingly close.
She screamed and burst into her room, slamming the door
behind her and locking it. She launched herself across her bed
and opened the drawer as Jared slammed into the door with a
bellow of a rage. The door and lock held, but she didn't know
how long it would. Fumbling inside the drawer, she found the
butt of the Glock and pulled it out.
Holding the weapon in front of her, she backed into the
corner and lifted the phone. Jared hit the door again, the sound
of splintering wood loud beside her heavy breathing. She
dialed Mitch's cell quickly, but it went straight to voice
message. No one else she could call, knew to call. She dialed
911 and dropped the phone as the door cracked. The police
wouldn't get to her before he got through the door.
Oh God, I'm gonna have to shoot him.
The door flew open with Jared's next kick. He stepped
into the room, his eyes wild, his face a mask of hatred. He
stopped when he saw the gun.
"Don't come any closer." She raised the muzzle, aiming at
the center of his chest. "I'll shoot you. I mean it."
He studied her, hands on his hips, for a long moment.
"You don't want to shoot me, Jess."
She nodded. "You're right. I don't want to shoot you. So
don't come any closer."
He took a step forward. She started pressing the trigger.
"I mean it. Stop where you are."
Hands up in the air, showing her they were empty, he said,
"I'm not armed, Jess. You can't shoot down a man in cold
blood. I know you too well for that."
"You don't know me at all." She stepped closer to him
now, the adrenalin rushing through her at a dizzying pace. Her
stomach ached. "Or you wouldn't test me."
"What are you going to do, then, Jess?" he asked, lowering
his hands and leaning against the high post of her bed. He put
his hands in his pockets and regarded her with a sly look. "Do
you plan on tying me up? That's going to be difficult one
handed."
"We can stand here like this until Mitch gets back." She
stepped forward again, just out of arms' reach. "If you try
anything, anything at all, I won't hesitate."
A hint of his rage returning curled his lip into a sneer. "A
lot can happen between then and now, Jess. Why don't you just
put the gun away and we can work this out."
"Like you wanted to work it out in your office." Her voice
rose on a great mushroom cloud of rage. "Like you worked it
out by shooting my mother?" She stepped forward, pointing
with the muzzle of the gun, her throat straining on every
shouted word. "Like you worked it out when you hired men to
kill me and my family?"
"No, Jess, just you, not your family." He smiled.
"Without you, your father's nothing to me, and he's nothing to
Beth. Although it helped keep the FBI looking for Grady.
Kept them thinking about the money instead of what's
important. Like the loyalty of a wife."
Jess started to understand, to see better now. "She was
going to leave you because she found out you killed her
father?"
He straightened. "That's none of your business."
"I think it is." Jess followed him with the weapon. "Stand
still."
"Or what?" His eyes glittered. "You'll call for help?"
"Yes, and Pullman and the security guards will come
running and then you'll be sorry." She doubled her grip on the
gun. "If you don't stop moving, I swear to God, I will shoot
you."
"Pullman can't help you, no one can. I told them to go
home, take a break, that Grady had been caught and they
deserved the rest of the night off. They should be leaving right
now, if they haven't already."
"You're lying." The security couldn't all be gone. No
way. Even if the threat was over, these types of estates kept a
few on duty, didn't they? "You'd never dismiss them all in one
night."
He shrugged. "That's true enough. I kept one man on the
gate, but he'll never hear you scream."
She shivered, her hands jerking wildly. The worst part
was that she believed him, that Pullman and his crew really
would have taken a break tonight. A night to celebrate. Only
she didn't feel much like celebrating herself right now.
Footsteps landed in the hall and she glanced in that
direction, keeping her aim on Jared. Before she knew he'd
moved, Jared grabbed her hand and twisted to the side. The
gun fired and he forced her back.
"What the hell's going on?" Pullman asked from the door
as they fell, Jared on top of her, onto the bed.
"It's Jared!" Jess screamed, fighting him for control of the
Glock.
"Mr. Kramer?" Pullman queried, as he came in the room.
Jared's fist landed across her cheekbone and ear and the
world went very quiet. Dimly, she heard Pullman shout and
then the report of the gun. As she drifted in a dazed quagmire
of confusion, she knew Jared had won. She braced herself for
the bullet he'd surely put in her brain.

Inside the helicopter, gun aimed steadily at the pilot,
Mitch ground his teeth as they headed back to the estate. The
pilot hadn't offered any argument as soon he'd seen the Glock
leveled at his head. On the ground, the agents had spotted him,
but Larson, good friend that he was, cut off their dash to the
helicopter as the pilot lifted them off the ground.

They flew over a brightly lit city, much too slowly. "Don't
you have any way of making this thing go faster?"
"I'm doing the best I can," the pilot said, his face a
ghoulish mask lit by the green glow of the instrument panel.
"You wanna put those pistols away? We hit an air pocket, I
don't want to lose my head."
Mitch grunted and lowered the gun, but didn't put it away.
"Mind telling me what's going on?" the pilot asked, as he
banked to the right and headed in the direction Mitch had
indicated.
"Yes, I mind." He didn't have the patience for small talk,
let alone the nerve to go over his worries aloud. Just the idea
of voicing his worst fears were enough to make him want to
vomit.
"Okay, but it might help if I knew what I was flying into."
He had a point. Mitch released a breath. "A young
woman is alone, right now, with a killer. If we don't get back
in time, there's no telling what he'll do."
"What set him off?"
Mitch grimaced. "Her mother woke from her coma and,
about twenty minutes ago, named the killer. I don't know if
Jess knows or not, but if she does, and the killer knows she
knows, it's not good."
The pilot nodded once. "I can see the situation you're in."
We're in, Mitch thought dismally. Why had he left her
alone? He'd been leery of Jared all this time, thinking the man
too soft, too weak to be true. He had been right. Jared was a
hell of a lot tougher than he'd let on. All those moments where
Mitch's instincts had told him Jared lied, or pretended to be
more concerned than he was, and he'd just ignored them. How
could he live with himself if something happened to Jess?
Mitch breathed deep when he saw the estate come into
view. Twenty long minutes in the vibrating chopper had left
him ready to leap out of his skin. "There," Mitch said,
pointing. "Set us down in the back."
From this altitude, he couldn't quite tell, but he thought
there should have been more life on the estate. No headlights
shown from the guard's vehicles and the two guard shacks at
the back of the estate were pitch black. The house itself had a
queer, haunted look. His stomach clenched tightly on the
thought that he might already be too late.
* * *
Jess groaned. Her arm felt like it was being pulled out of
the socket. Jared dragged her by one wrist across the
downstairs foyer. Her head felt as if it had thudded down every
step of the staircase. She blinked and tried to grab something,
anything, to halt their progress down the hall.
Jared raved, out of his mind with rage. "People can't keep
their noses out of our life. Beth and I were just fine. Everyone
always has to come in and ruin it all."
He didn't realize she was awake. Looking back over their
passage, over an upended vase filled with flowers, the water
soaking into the crumpled Oriental runner, she saw the door to
the safe room. If she could get away from him, she would only
need to get those few feet and he wouldn't be able to hurt her
anymore.
Over the swish of her jeans sliding on hard wood came the
dim sound of thumping and for a moment, she thought it was
the noise of a concussion in her head. Then Jared stopped and
when she ventured a peek, he was staring at the ceiling, head
cocked. Not in her head. No. It was a helicopter.
He swore.
She grinned and managed a dry laugh. "They heard me
scream after all."
He glanced down at her, to the door he had been dragging
her toward, then back at her again. "It changes nothing."
His grip had relaxed slightly and she used his
inattentiveness to yank free. Lurching away from him, she half
flung herself, half crawled back the way they had come. Hands
clawing the hard wood, knees scissoring as she attempted to
run before gaining her feet, she made it past the spilled water.
He stopped her with a fistful of her shirt and the cold
muzzle of the Glock on her neck. She cried out, more in
frustration this time than real pain.
"We take this outside." He lifted her to her feet, strangling
her with the collar of the shirt, as her weight at first didn't want
to oblige.
Feet beneath her, the world swam as she tugged the
choking collar down and tried to gain her balance. Jess didn't
know what he waited for, why he didn't want to finish her off
right here and now, but she was glad for the chance to fight
him, no matter what condition she was in.
He swung her around, using her body to shove open the
door to the kitchen. She hit it, arms raised to protect her face
from doing the dirty work. With a curse, he came through after
her.
"Don't try anything stupid," he said, raising the gun and
knocking her between the shoulder blades, sending her flailing
toward the back door. "I'll shoot you where you land. I swear
it."
She grasped the edge of the marble counter on the island
and searched as far as her arms could reach for anything to hit
him with. Nothing. The counters and the island were bare.
"Move. Out the door." He shoved her forward again.
"All right, already. I'm going. Stop pushing me." She
tried to recall if there was anything outside the door that might
serve as a weapon to clobber him. She and Mitch had been in
too much of a hurry for her to notice much of her surroundings.
Jared stopped her just inside the open door. The balmy
California evening was thick with humidity, and the highpitched sound of a helicopter landing. She couldn't see it,
couldn't feel the wind of the rotors, but it was close. And so
was Jared.
He pressed against her back, his arm circling her waist, the
gun nearly inside her ear. "Move."
He urged her ahead. She could do nothing but shuffle in
front of him. Down the few steps and across the lawn, each of
them searched for the helicopter and whoever might be
coming.
"You won't get away with this," Jess said. "They must
know. Someone must know what you've done."
"Shut up. Keep moving. To the stables. You know the
way."
Jess shuddered to think how he knew. She had avoided
the stables since that afternoon with Mitch. Now, she didn't
want him to take her there, to sully that memory. "Why the
stables?"
The helicopter noise stopped, only the faint whipping of
the rotors could be heard.
Mitch, I hope that's you
.
"I want you to remember what it's like. I want you to feel
keenly what it is to be separated from someone you love. I
want you to know what you've put me through. I want you to
die on the spot you gave yourself to him."
She wanted to ask him how he could know, but thought
better of it. There were some things she didn't want to think
about for the rest of her life. No matter how short it might be.
The double stable doors were open, as if expecting them.
No light inside to illuminate the path, but even these few yards
away she could smell the horses, the hay, the dusty smell of
well used leather and animal sweat. Jared had been right, it
made her long desperately for Mitch. Not to make love to him
again–for him to show up and kick Jared's ass for her.
Jess gritted her teeth and stepped into the darkness.
* * *
Mitch jumped from the helicopter and landed on the run.
The pilot, seeing his chance to escape the gunman who had
taken him hostage, took to the skies. It didn't matter, Mitch
thought, he was here, and nothing would stop him from getting
to Jess.
He hurried for the house, circling through the back
gardens and entering the sitting room. The house was quiet,
much too still. The scent of danger lingered in the air–not a
tangible aroma, but a psychic aura that bled into his skin
through a horrific osmosis.
He cleared the sitting room and headed into the foyer. In
the diffused moonlight streaking through the window above the
front door, the overturned vase sparkled wetly. The bunched
runner hurt him internally. There had been a struggle.
Jess
.
He eased toward the hall leading to the kitchen, the
direction the mess pointed. As he went, he checked the door to
the safe room. It stood ajar. Jess wasn't inside. Any lingering
hope that she might be safe, that Jared hadn't gotten to her, left
him on a wave of fearful rage.
Jaw clenched to the point his teeth ached, he scoped the
hallway. Nothing. No one. He swore low and hastened his
pace into the kitchen. The back door stood ajar.
He rushed forward, certain now that Jared had taken her
out that way. Certain Jared had her. Because if he didn't, if the
man had left her bleeding, maybe dying somewhere else, there
wasn't a God, there wasn't hope and Mitch's life was
meaningless. In his gut, he felt that she must still be alive.
He reached the door and shoved it wider, coming out onto
the back porch.
There
.
A glint of caramel-colored hair shining in the moonlight,
then two shadows disappeared inside the stables. They were
gone so quickly, he would have thought it was a trick of the
night if his gaze hadn't been so sharp and intent on finding her.
From the way they had moved together, he instinctually
concluded Jared had some sort of weapon trained on Jess. She
wasn't fighting, but neither had she been moving of her own
free will.
She was his hostage.
* * *
"There," Jared said, pointing her toward the back of the
stable. "Get back there."
She moved slow, casting about for anything she could
grab. The horses smelled her, and likely the fear sweating out
of her pores. They whinnied nervously as she passed. One
struck a gate with his back hooves, the crack against the wood
as loud as gunfire. A startled cry escaped her even as her mind
tried to catch up with reality. She hadn't just been shot in the
head.
"Easy does it," Jared whispered in her ear, his breath hot
and close against her skin. His grip went brutal, tightening
against her ribs, holding her hot against him. "Horses won't
hurt you, but I will if you don't put a lid on it."
"Why?" She asked the question in a whisper, afraid to
infuriate him more, but still eager to let those in the helicopter
know she was here, inside the stables, with Jared. "My dad
says if you're gonna do something no one else should see,
chances are, you shouldn't be doing it."
Jared grunted. "Your father is a stupid man. Sending you
here. Alone."
Stupid
? Her spine straightened between them. "My dad is
not stupid. If anything you are. You should have killed me
when you had the chance."
"And give up the only leverage I have for getting out of
here?" Jared laughed. "You're nothing like your mother. She
knows her place, she knows when I say be quiet, it means be
quiet."
In his anger, he drew the gun away from her head. She
sensed his arm lifting, as if to deliver a blow with the butt of
the pistol. No longer caring if he shot her or not, she acted.
Using every trick J.D. had taught her, she stomped on his
instep, elbowed him in the solar plexus, and with a scream of
outright rage, grabbed his gun hand and bit him as hard as she
could.
He uttered a gasping cry, his hand flexing against her
teeth. The gun fired. Something hot hit her cheek, burning.
She yelled and fell back, eyes stinging from the sudden bright
flash from the muzzle in the darkness.
On her knees, deafened and ears ringing from the
explosive noise of the Glock firing beside her head, she prayed
Jared didn't recover faster than she. Jess prayed she could get
back on her feet, run, fight, do anything but wait for him to
bury a bullet in the back of her head.
* * *
Mitch dropped to his knees and tried to find them in the
dismal blackness at the back of the stable. The spit had dried
in his mouth as a bullet bit into the door beside his head,
sending a sharp shard of wood into the side of his neck. He
plucked it out, his adrenalin too amped to feel any pain.
He didn't know if the bullet had been deliberately aimed at
him or not. He only hoped it was, because that meant Jess was
still alive, still somewhere ahead of him. In fact, he thought as
he tilted his head to the side and tried to keep from breathing
hard, he could hear her crying softly now that the horses had
stopped their frightened neighs and snorts. A muted gasping
sound that was too high pitched to come from Jared filled the
deepening quiet.
No longer caring if Jared shot him anymore, no longer
worried that he might die before he saved Jess, Mitch followed
the sound of her voice. In three strides, their shapes took form
in the dark. He leveled his gun on the man who had shot Beth,
who had fooled him into believing the real killer was Grady,
who had sent hired thugs to murder an unsuspecting and
innocent woman.
Jared rose slowly in the gloom. Light from an exterior
security lamp glimmered through a small far window,
reflecting off the steel of his weapon. He aimed it down, at
Jess's bent head.
Jared spotted him. "Don't move, or she dies."
Mitch froze in his tracks, but didn't lower his Glock. "She
dies, you die."
Jared reached blindly with one hand and grasped Jess by
her hair. "On your feet," he shouted at her. To Mitch he said,
"We're leaving. Don't try to stop us."
Jess cried out, grasping the hand on her head as she
struggled to get to her feet fast enough. She sobbed. "Mitch."
"He won't hurt you. I promise," Mitch said, following
them as Jared dragged her to the back door. "He won't dare."
"I'll do what it takes." Jared shoved her against the door.
"Open it."
She grasped the door handle and turned. "It's locked."
She slid her gaze to Mitch, then to the light switch by the door,
then back at him.
He understood. As Jared took his attention off Mitch for a
heartbeat, he nodded slightly. He knew what she planned.
Jared caught the nod and leveled the Glock at Mitch.
"Whatever you think–"
At that moment, Jess flipped the overhead lights on.
Mitch fired in the sudden, blinding glare.
Jared flew back, his chest exploding in a terminal wound.
He fired his own weapon as he went down. The bullet hit
Mitch in the head, knocking him backward.
Jess screamed.