Tiny Dancer [Divine Creek Ranch 13] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (44 page)

“Just a little sedative. Something to make you more amenable. I need something from you. Well, two somethings from you, actually. But we need to get out of here before anyone gets curious.”

Knowing she was moments away from being abducted, Camilla did the only thing her body seemed capable of doing. She became deadweight. She wouldn’t climb up into the cab of the truck, and he wasn’t strong enough to lift her. She wondered if he’d found himself a big boyfriend in prison to protect his sorry ass. He must have. “How did you get out of pri–prison?”

“Time off for good behavior.” He glanced around nervously and struggled to get her up to the cab, but she hung limp in his arms, numb from her waist down. He opened the passenger side door and climbed up in the cab, and she slumped to the asphalt, cursing him if her nice leather outfit got ruined. He turned and looked down at her and grimaced. “Help me out here, baby.”

“I’m not your baby,” she said, her syllables slurred. “I’m Quinten’s baby.” Her mind felt all fuddled and she wondered why she’d said that.

“Yeah, I know, and gonna have a baby, so I see. Let’s try this again.” He jumped down from the truck.

“Huh?”

He pulled on her arm to get her to sit up. “I found the paperwork on your desk for your prenatal testing and workup. I also saw some other very interesting paperwork. Turns out you’re worth a little money.”
Bastard! So it was him who was behind all those break-ins!

“Not yours,” she said, refusing to hold herself upright for him so he could abduct her. She slumped to the ground again.

“Oh, yeah?” He pulled his booted foot back to kick her in the abdomen. “I’ll bet you’re willing to part with some of it in order to keep that brat safe.” She curled around her abdomen, whimpering, and he paused then squatted down. “Look. It’s real simple, Cami. I owe some very angry people a lot of money. They’ve been waiting a while, you see? You have something that belongs to me. Before we go get it, wherever it is, we’re making a detour to
your
bank. Once I have traveling money and the key, I’ll let you go back to that perverted…whatever kind of relationship you’ve got with those men.”

Her tongue was numb now. Otherwise she would’ve responded. She was almost glad she couldn’t because she knew that Tyler had a temper. She was afraid of passing out completely and being at his mercy.

“Now get your ass up, and help me get you in this damn truck! Why did I rent this big-assed motherfucker?”

To stall, she summoned up her force of will and pushed out the words, “Key? What key?” Swirlies whirled in her brain as she looked up at the parking lot lights, and she shook her head, trying to keep it together.

“The key to a safe-deposit box.”

She frowned and inhaled deeply. “I have no key.” Each word was a struggle.

“Yeah, you do. I taped it in your high school annual. The one from your senior year.”

She groaned pitifully. “Oh, no.” She laid her head back as her eyes rolled uncontrollably.

Tyler crouched down beside her where she lay on the pavement. “What do you mean, ‘Oh, no.’ I don’t need any more oh-nos. I just need the cash from that safe-deposit box. I need to pay those motherfuckers off before they kill my ass. Cami,” he said, lifting her head as her eyes rolled again, “I kinda loved you at one point, and I’d hate to have to hit you to wake you up, so you need to tell me what happened.” He glanced at his watch. “Shit, we’ve been out here too long.” He crouched down and pulled her arms over his shoulder and braced himself to lift her. She prayed like hell he wouldn’t drop her as she hung limply, not cooperating.

Talk, sister, before he gets you in that truck.

“Whatchu need cash for? Pay off who?”

“The guys I stole the money from. That’s the only reason my ass is still alive. They know I have their fifty thousand dollars.”

“You stole my house, why?”

“Huh?” He popped her cheek and the sharp sting startled her.

She did her best to make herself clear. “My h–house. You made a huge ol’ mess. But you din’t touch Mom’s asses.”
Ashes!

“Asses? Oh, the ashes. I overheard you and Charlotta talking about them. You said you were uncomfortable opening them. I knew what they were, so I left them alone. See? I’m not such a bad guy. I just need that damned key, baby!”

“Not yer baby.”

She moaned when he turned and bent her arms the wrong way, trying to lift her over his back without much success. This was one time she was glad that he’d been short and not too buff. She wondered where Ben and Quinten were and prayed that the cavalry showed up soon.

“Why you have their money?” She’d cooperated fully with the authorities and followed his trial but knew nothing about him owing a debt he’d never paid.

“I was skimming a percentage off the cocaine I sold for them in the club. My nest egg. They caught on right about the time I got busted. Someone paid me a visit the day I got out of prison. Told me the clock was ticking if I wanted to live. I need you to tell me where the key is. It was supposed to be a simple matter of paying your house a visit, retrieving the key, and getting the money.” He grabbed her by the corset strings at her sides and used them to yank her up, making the corset unbearably tight.

She whimpered, cried out, and fought him. “It’s gone. I los’ that annual last time I moved, Tyler.”

“Well, shit,” he ground out. She was afraid that he’d let go of her now that she was upright. He reached into the truck and pulled out a handgun and pointed it at her. “Get in the truck. Stop playing around.”

She flinched when he poked her in the ribs and she gripped the seat but managed to stay on her feet. He must’ve given her only a light dose of the sedative because she could feel her legs again, only she couldn’t lift them. “Can’t climb in.”

“Fine. I’ll climb in and pull you in. Stay there. I was kinda hopin’ that you and I could give it another try since I’m out of prison. I see that’s impossible now. If you don’t cooperate, I’m gonna have to shoot you. Stay there.” He climbed past her on the passenger side and grabbed her under her arms. “Climb up, Cami. We’re driving to your bank and you’re withdrawing me some traveling money. Whether you live depends on how cooperative you are.”

He kept talking as he hauled her into the cab of the truck, and Camilla wondered if he’d always been this much of a dumb, boring asshole. How had he been smart enough to get himself into so many illegal money-making situations and yet couldn’t figure out what to do with one sedated ex-girlfriend?

When she was finally in the passenger seat, he sat back with a thud and started the engine. Camilla’s eyelids slid closed, and she moaned as the nausea returned with a vengeance. He’d yanked so hard on her corset strings it must’ve made it worse. Surely her men had missed her by now. She struggled with the laces, trying to loosen the section he’d pulled tight, but couldn’t manage to do much more than bat at them with her numb fingertips.

Tyler jumped when a shadow appeared outside the driver’s door, and she heard a metallic click. “Freeze, asshole. Put the gun down.”

Hank.

Camilla collapsed in the seat and relief coursed through her so fast she felt the nausea take control. She was certain this time it was going to win. She reached out for the truck door handle and realized the door was still wide open. She tried to turn to climb out of the truck, saw how far down the ground was as it wavered in her vision, and thought better of it. She might survive a near abduction only to break her neck falling from the vehicle. She hated feeling so weak and helpless.

Tyler cursed as he reached for her, preparing to put the gun to her head. She slapped his hands away and struggled, until Hank jerked open the truck’s driver side door and pulled him away from her, slamming him back against the driver’s seat.

Tyler released the trigger on the weapon in his hand and held it up.

“Put the weapon on the dashboard, then put both hands up where I can see them, asshole,” Hank ground out, his gun still aimed at Tyler.

Tyler complied and began talking a mile a minute as he lifted both hands in the air. His voice rose in pitch with each passing second. “I’ll tell you everything, but you gotta take me into protective custody. My life is in danger. I’ll tell you everything—”

Camilla pitched forward dizzily and finally lost control, vomiting all over her would-be kidnapper. She felt instantly better as she sat up and her world went a little topsy-turvy. Then everything went black.

Ben ignored the sound of Tyler’s pansy-ass gagging as he followed Quinten around to the other side of the big rental truck.

Ben looked past Quinten’s shoulder and nearly knocked him over as he ran. “Catch her! Catch her!
Catch her
!” He softly cursed, barely making it in time as she toppled from the passenger seat. She landed in his arms looking very pale, and her eyes rolled back in her head. “Sugar?” She smiled wanly at him then went limp. “He must’ve drugged her.”

Spencer growled when he saw her. “EMS is on their way.”

Ben was relieved to have Hank with them. They’d seen everything that had occurred in the back hallway on the security monitors and had also seen that her attacker had been armed. It had taken every reserve of patience he’d had to listen to Hank’s plan and do as he was told. He’d wanted to rush right out the back door after them. Hank had ordered them to all stay back in the driver’s side blind spot as he’d snuck up on Camilla’s abductor. Ben had nearly panicked when he’d heard her whimper and fall to the ground as Anderson had dragged her to the truck. When it was all over, he was doing exactly as Hank had suggested. Wrap her up and carry her in his pocket where she was safe.
Damn it!
She looked so frail and tiny in his arms as he crouched by the open truck door.

Quinten jerked his suit coat off and spread it on the ground for him to lay her on and kneeled next to him. He brushed a dark smudge from her cheekbone and felt her pulse. “Good, steady beat. She kept talking that whole time. He must’ve underdosed her.”

Sylvan came running across the parking lot with Camilla’s coat, which they wrapped around her. “Is she all right? My gosh, did he drag her across the asphalt?”

Rage burned in his chest when he saw that her knees were skinned up from the fresh blacktop. Sirens echoed against the surrounding buildings as the emergency vehicles approached and emergency lights flickered against the vehicles in the back parking lot. They cut the siren as they got close to the scene, and Ben was grateful.

“Well, at least they didn’t come to the front of the building. This way we’re less likely to have the crowd inside empty out to watch the chaos.”

Sylvan patted his shoulder. “I’ll go make sure everything’s running smoothly inside and make an announcement if it becomes necessary. You just take care of Camilla. Oh! And poor Cody, too.” She rushed over to the back of the truck, where it looked like Cody was just returning to consciousness. She waved at Ben and gave him the thumbs-up before running back to the club. Ben was relieved they’d hired someone who obviously worked well under pressure.

Quinten looked over his shoulder and groaned. “You may have spoken too soon.”

Ben looked behind him and sighed. The news crew that had been at the front entry, interviewing patrons who were lined up out the door, came running around the corner, microphones, cameras ready.

Luckily, law enforcement headed them off. Hank joined Ben and Quinten as the Tarkett County Sheriff’s Department took over. “How’s she doing?”

They’d bundled her up in the coat, and as Ben shifted her, his hand got hung up in her corset laces. “Shit, what did he do to her?”

He reached under her coat and felt that the laces were pulled extremely tight on both sides. “He must have pulled her up by the laces. Her breathing is probably constricted. Quinten, got your pocketknife?”

Quinten grinned and reached in his pocket. “Always prepared.”

“She’s gonna be pissed when she finds out I ruined her corset.”

Hank said, “Understandable given the circumstances.” He turned his back, and Ben began grabbing the laces and severing them, careful to not get the blade close to her skin, until the corset loosened considerably. The EMTs came with a stretcher, and Ben gently lifted her and laid her on it, careful to keep the leather coat over her as a covering.

“So you know her?” the EMT asked as he removed a stethoscope from his bag.

“Yes. She’s my fiancée. We suspect she was drugged.” He glanced at Quinten, and he nodded at him. “She’s pregnant, nearly eight weeks.”

“Thank you for telling me. We’ll take good care of her.”

David Northup, the Tarkett County Sheriff, showed a vial to the EMT. “We found this and two empty syringes in Anderson’s coat pocket.”

The EMT took a close look at the vial and then nodded at him. “Morphine. She’s symptomatic for it.” To Ben he said, “Her vitals are stable, so we’ll transport her. There’s room for you if you want to come with her.”

Ben glanced at Quinten, giving him the option to ride with her, even though Ben had identified himself as her fiancé.

Quinten said, “I’ll be right behind you in the truck.”

Ethan came out of the back door as they prepared to load her in the ambulance. “I’ll stay here and cover for you. Sylvan has everything under control. Very little fuss inside. A few were curious when the television crew took off around the building, but otherwise, everything’s fine inside. You two go ahead. Take care of your lady.” They paused to check on Cody, who was complaining about having to ride to the hospital, too.