AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I didn’t want to risk Cody outing himself to his partner by calling Mack, Savage.
Shaking off his shock, Cody hurried past me before dropping to Mack’s side as four police officers—three I knew well—stepped through the door.
Simpson had done a fine job, wrapping the wound in thick layers of gauze, but the fact blood was already seeping through worried me. It obviously concerned Cody and his partner, as well. Within minutes, they rolled in a gurney and lifted Mack onto it.
“Anyone else injured” Cody asked, curiously scanning the room.
I knew he was looking for Emma.
“No,” I said, nonchalantly dragging a finger over my lips.
With a subtle nod, Cody and his partner rolled Mack toward the door. As he passed me, I reached out and squeezed Mack’s hand. “I’ll meet you at the hospital as soon as I can.”
“No,” he whispered tersely. “Take care of what you need to.”
As Mack disappeared out the door, the cop I didn’t know slid a suspicious sidelong glance my way.
“Damn fool. He’s more worried about the fucking cows than he is himself,” I scoffed with a shake of my head.
Determined to quash any and all speculation from the start, I invited the officers to take a seat at the kitchen table, then spent the next hour and a half telling them…nothing. After what seemed an interminable lifetime, Kyle and his men finished putting out the hot spots where the barn had been and drove away.
Finally alone, I tapped in Dalton’s number and gave him a rundown of the morning’s epic clusterfuck. When I asked if his offer for the private jet was still on the table, he told me to pack a bag. He assured me Mack would have plenty of visitors and asked me to check in when I could. After profusely thanking him, I hung up and raced upstairs.
The second I stepped inside the bedroom, the scent of Emma’s erotic perfume and the rumpled sheets on the bed nearly took me out at the knees.
I should have stayed in bed and woken up beside her.
Staggering to the mattress, I sank onto it and grabbed her pillow. Pressing it to my face, I breathed in her scent as muffled screams of failure, fear, and heartache tore from my throat.
Two hours later, I was high above the world in a plush Bombardier Challenger 350, dissecting every morsel of Wesley Albert Fairchild’s life on my computer.
ChapterEighteen
Emma
Tuesday, August 1st
Throat parched, and head pounding, I rose from the inky darkness…again. With an inward whimper, I tried to roll over, but the biting ropes around my wrists and ankles held me in place. A rush of panic rolled through me as threads of gut-twisting memories, strung together like spider webs, filled my drug-altered mind.
I had no clue what day it was, where I was, or how many times Wesley had shoved a drug-filled needle in my arm, forcing me in and out of consciousness. Fuzzy memories of him hauling me to the bathroom, feeding me soup, and filling my mouth with water stirred in my mind like dust bunnies. But the glorious dreams of Grant, that always kept me company in the inky darkness, were fresh and clear. So was the never-ending raw ache to see, touch, and taste him again.
Please find me, Grant. Please, somehow find me, and get me out of here.
Heart aching, I kept my eyes closed and worked to clear my brain while listening for the sound of Wesley’s breathing. I knew he was near. The sickening stench of his designer cologne cloyed my senses and churned my stomach.
“You can stop pretending. I know you’re awake. Your breathing has changed,” he boasted, as if he actually cared. “Open your eyes, bitch,” he barked, slapping my face impatiently.
“Stop,” I snarled in a dry, brittle voice, fighting the restraints as I opened my eyes and glared at him. “Don’t touch me.”
“Oh, come now, Emma,” he tsk’d. “I know what kind of club you were in the other night. I’m delighted you like pain, because I enjoy…givingit.”
He’d been watching me? How long? When had he found me…and how?
His confession and the fact he had me bound to the bed, helpless to escape any kind of insidious pain he enjoyed inflicting, made my heart race. Though grateful he was merely mind-fucking me and not physically assaulting me, I didn’t knowwhyhe was suddenly talking to me. All the other times Wesley had been in the room with me, he’d barely spoken more than two or three words.
While I didn’t relish the thought of having a heart-to-heart with the man—mostly because I knew he was a heartless prick—it might keep him from sticking that fucking needle in my arm again.
“W-what do you mean, youknowwhat kind of club?”
