Make You Mine, page 17
Jazz grabbed a key fob off the peg on the wall of the mudroom and tossed it to him. “Take mine. It’s in back.”
“What’s happening?” Eli demanded, crowding up against Jazz by the door.
“Little emergency.” Jack hopped into Jasmine’s brand-new SUV, a nod to her impending motherhood and the difficulty she’d have with a car seat in the two-door vintage Mustang she usually tooled around town in.
“Jack!” Eli shouted.
“Thanks!” Jack slid the passenger window down and waved as he backed out of the short driveway. “I’ll call you!”
He sped down the street, barely pausing at the red flasher at the corner of Evergreen and Main streets. Fortunately, traffic was light on a Sunday night, and by nine o’clock, most of the evening strollers were back in their homes watching TV. He got stopped by a semi trying to negotiate the fork where Main Street split and River View Road ran parallel to the river. Apparently, the driver meant to take the Highway 18 fork to the bridge that crossed the Ohio River, but instead went left, ending up partway on River View. Now, the idiot was trying to back up in to Main Street so he could get onto the highway.
Jack used the delay to adjust the seat in the SUV to fit his much longer legs and torso, and then dialed Maddie’s phone, all the while cussing a blue streak at the semi driver. The call went to voicemail and Jack left a terse call me message. What felt like hours later, although it was probably no more than a few minutes, the truck was on the highway, and Jack was speeding up toward the spec house site.
His mind was going a thousand miles an hour, imagining all the things that could happen to Maddie up there, all alone in the dark. No doubt she would be pissed when he showed up to check on her. But when he’d gotten Missy’s call, the hair on the back of his neck stood up—always a sign he needed to go with his gut.
If the vandals showed up, would they simply turn around and leave at the sight of her truck, or would they get curious enough to look and see a young, beautiful woman sitting in it? Were they more than vandals? Maybe a group of guys who’d want to have some “fun” with a helpless female? He almost laughed out loud at that thought—Madeline Ross was anything but helpless. Still—if she were outnumbered . . .
That assumed Maddie stayed in her truck, as any sensible person would. Oh God, what if she’s gotten out of her truck to wander around? She might drop her flashlight, fall down the basement stairs, and hit her head. She might be bleeding on the concrete floor. He pressed the accelerator a little harder and hit the button on his phone in the cup holder to redial Maddie. Rang to voicemail again. His heart pounded and his mouth was dry as cotton.
Hell, a bobcat or a coyote could turn up looking for a meal, and hadn’t he read there had been sightings of black bears in Hoosier National Forest? Ones that had come into the state in the past few years from southwest Illinois? What if they had migrated as far east as River’s Edge? His imagination ran riot as he maneuvered as fast as the gravel road up to the site allowed, cringing when a tree branch brushed the side of Jazz’s new car. Crap, it still has the dealer’s sticker on the back window. If it left a mark, he’d pay to have it buffed out or, hell, buy her a new car. The most important thing was getting to Maddie.
He slowed as his headlights shone on a beat-up red pickup parked on the side of the road. Stopping, he reached for his phone and snapped a picture of the license plate. Maybe it was nothing, a breakdown. Seemed too far from the houses to be the vandals. Why would someone park all the way back here if he had to go up to the site to turn around, anyway?
He heard her truck before he saw it—the door alarm dinging and her phone singing . . . he strained to listen as he’d hit redial again. Sounded like Green Day’s “Time of Your Life.” Oldie, but a nice choice—unexpected. It disappeared when the call went to voicemail again. This time, he didn’t bother with a message, merely tapped End on his phone because he was pulling up next to her truck. He threw the car into Park and hopped out. Her driver’s door was wide open, the interior light reflecting on her phone laying on the passenger seat, while her iPad was on the floor next to her bag.
“Maddie?” he yelled, his voice sounding hollow in the trees that surrounded the site. “Maddie, where the hell are you?” He stood still by the truck, listening, waiting, hoping. Nothing. He flipped on the flashlight on his phone and shone it around the woods, but there was no sign of her. Stomach churning, he went up onto the makeshift stoop and shone the light among the framed walls, walking carefully to avoid nails and random chunks of wood. “Maddie?”
He peered into the dark basement. Why would she be down there in the dark? Unless she’s hurt or unconscious. A chill skittered through him even though he was sweating with fear, and he started down the steps. Two steps down and his phone light found her, alive and whole, simply standing at the bottom of the stairs, a peculiar look on her face. “Maddie? What’s—”
All of the sudden, an arm came out of the dark and grabbed her around the neck, tugging her head back. A hunting knife appeared at her throat. “’Bout damn time you showed up, asshole,” Shea Bowman growled as he backed up with Maddie in tow.
Her eyes were huge, and her hands were clearly bound behind her back. She stumbled a little as Shea moved them away from the steps.
Stay calm.
The look in Bowman’s eyes told him how far over the edge the man had fallen. In the light of the phone, his eyes were dull and his pupils were pinpricks. Drunk? High, maybe? Maddie appeared strangely calm, despite the knife pressed against her skin.
“Hey, Shea. What’s going on, buddy?” Somehow, Jack managed to keep his tone casual, despite the clutch of fear making his belly roil.
Shea guffawed, and the sour scent of booze hit Jack like a tidal wave. “We’re not buddies, asshole.”
Okay, he’s drunk. Jack couldn’t decide if that was something in his favor or if it would make getting Maddie free even more difficult. It was a coin toss, so he gave reasoning a shot. “Why don’t you let her go? She’s got nothing to do with you and me.”
“We got business, Walker. She’s my insurance.”
Jack came down two more steps, pausing on the middle step at Bowman’s terse, “Stop right there.”
Shifting his phone so the light shone on Maddie and her captor, he used the screen facing him to cautiously thumb the video button. Not sure if the phone would record while the flashlight was on, Jack figured it was worth a shot to get evidence. “What’s our business, Shea? We fired you and paid you what we owed you, plus a severance that we didn’t have to give you. Seems to me like we’re all good.”
“You broke our contract.” Shea’s voice had turned a bit shrill. “You owe me way more than the measly severance you gave me.” He glared at Maddie. “Stop squirming, bitch. I can feel you moving your hands. Don’t even think about junk-punching me.”
Maddie met Jack’s gaze with a quirked brow. He knew she wanted a sign to act, but he gave her the slightest headshake. Any sudden movement and the loon would cut her throat, whether he meant to or not.
Jack shone the light directly at them, hoping to blind Bowman enough that he could rush him and grab the knife.
“Turn that damn light away!”
Jack shifted the phone to the obscenity-covered concrete wall behind them. “Your handiwork?” His tone was calm, even though he was trembling.
Shea snorted. “Just wanted to let you know how I felt about you, buddy.”
Jack chewed the inside of his cheek, struggling to stay put on the stairs “I didn’t break the contract. You did when you didn’t do your job.”
“You didn’t give me a chance,” Shea whined. “You just canned me and hired her.”
*
Bile rose in Maddie’s throat as Shea tightened his grip. When he sneered the word her, he pressed the knife on the skin of her throat. The odors rolling off him—sweat and tequila and fear—nearly choked her, making her swallow hard. She threw Jack a desperate look, wishing he’d leap off the steps and kick Shea Bowman across the basement. That’s ridiculous, her brain told her heart. God only knew how the guy would react if Jack came at him, but she would surely be dead and at least one of the two men would be too.
Jack brought the light back to them, but kept it off their faces. “Tell me what it’s going to take for you to let her go.”
Bowman twitched and Maddie realized he was getting restless—he’d had a lot of tequila, which was making him fidgety. Maybe if Jack kept him talking, he could hit the Emergency button on his phone and the police would come. The thought gave her hope until it occurred to her that if he did dial 911, the sirens would set this madman off and he’d probably slice her throat open and, afterward, attack Jack. She prayed that thought had occurred to Jack as well. She tried to capture his gaze, but his expression remained impassive as he sat on the step.
At last Bowman said, “Fifty grand . . . and . . . and a letter of recommendation.”
Just agree, Jack.
Then Bowman said, “Cash.” He shook his head as if to clear it, and he loosened his hold on Maddie. “Fifty grand in cash, Walker.”
Jack appeared to be giving it thought before he said, “I’ve only got about sixty bucks in my wallet, Shea.” A small smile played on his lips and Maddie knew he was strategizing. “Why don’t you let her go and take me instead? She can’t get to Walker’s funds, but I can.” His voice was quiet, soothing, and Maddie could feel Bowman relax slightly behind her. “She’s no use to you. Release her, then you and I can go to my office. We’ll get your money, and I’ll write your reference letter. You can dictate it to me.”
“Why should I trush you?” Shea slurred and he was starting to shake. She’d witnessed him draining the last of the tequila right before Jack arrived, and the booze was finally taking a toll. She raised her brows at Jack and he blinked . . . twice. He sees it. Shea is losing it.
“I have to pee,” Maddie announced. It was worth a shot. What’s the worst that could happen at this point?
“Tough,” Shea barked. “Hold it. Or hell, piss your pants. I don’t give a damn.”
“You’ll give a damn when it gets all over your shoes.” She wasn’t above peeing her pants in order to make Shea move enough for her to break free or for Jack to zip down and take him.
Shea lowered the knife to a couple of inches below her collarbone as he shuffled back from her and turned slightly sideways. “Don’t you . . . don’t you be . . . be pishing on my—”
Suddenly, Jack flew off the steps and grabbed Shea’s knife arm, allowing Maddie to slip to the side while Jack struggled to keep his hold on the bigger man. Shaking Shea’s arm, Jack tried to get him to drop the knife.
Shea recovered fast for a drunk. Jack pulled his arm back behind him, but Shea spun and struck out with the knife, grazing Jack’s bicep and causing him to drop his hold.
Shea roared and went after Jack, who was holding his hand over the bleeding cut on his arm. As Shea strode toward him, knife at the ready, Jack raised his fists, prepared to fight, despite the blood running down his arm.
“Go, Maddie!” Jack called. “Grab my phone and call the cops.”
Maddie was frozen, watching in horror as Shea towered over Jack with the knife, clearly ready to plunge it into him.
“Now, Maddie!” Jack shielded his body as best he could with his arms, his eyes darting from her to Shea.
Instinct took over, and she thanked all the stars in heaven that she’d taken a Tae Bo class back in Indy. Getting her balance as best she could with her hands tied behind her back, she raised one leg and kicked out, striking Shea in the thigh. He turned on her, and she raised her leg again, catching him right in the crotch with her steel-toed boots.
With an agonized howl of pain, he dropped the hunting knife and doubled over. Jack scrambled to grab it before Shea could recover. But Bowman was in no shape to even be aware of what was happening around him. Shoulders shaking, he fell to his knees, then curled up in a fetal position on the filthy concrete floor, sobbing and moaning as he clutched his private parts in both hands.
Jack stepped around him and tugged Maddie into his arms, holding her tight and rocking her, his lips pressed to her hair, and murmuring words she couldn’t decipher.
She drooped, pressing against his warm, muscled chest. “Oh, God, Jack, I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
He tipped her chin up and gazed into her face. “Me, either.” He kissed her, a light touch of his mouth on hers and then another one that lasted longer. “Are you okay?” he asked after he finally lifted his lips.
She nodded and turned her back toward him. “I’ll be even better when you cut these damn ties off me.”
“I dunno. I kinda like you a little bit helpless. It was nice to be able to save you. You know, the whole knight in shining armor thing.”
She couldn’t see him very clearly in the dark basement—the only light was his phone sitting on the steps—but she could see his white teeth against the dark-blond scruff of his beard. The man was grinning . . . and bleeding. Jerk. Big, beautiful, sexy jerk. They needed to get some pressure on that wound, call the cops, maybe an ambulance. She reached up and kissed him. “I’m pretty sure I saved you right back, Jack Walker, and without a white horse or armor. Just a swift kick to the bad guy’s balls.”
“Fair enough.” He swiped the knife on his running shorts before moving behind her to release her aching wrists.
Shaking her hands awake, she nabbed his phone from the steps. “I’m going to call 911 and get a cop out here.” Once she’d talked to dispatch, she touched the wound on Jack’s arm that had soaked the fabric of his jacket. “Here, take this thing off and I’ll try to wrap it around your arm to stop the bleeding. Then can you hold him down”—she jerked her head toward Shea, who had finally managed to sit up, although he was teetering—“while I search his pockets for some more of those zip ties. We can bind his hands and take the bastard upstairs to wait for Rye.”
Maddie used the knife to cut the other sleeve off Jack’s jacket and make a rough bandage. Jack allowed her ministrations with only the occasional intake of breath, but even those made her feel terrible that she was hurting him. “It’s the ER for you, my friend.”
“For both of us,” Shea moaned, glowering up at her. “I’m gonna sue you, bitch. You broke my—”
Jack stepped sideways and, with his sneakered foot, shoved Shea until he was on his belly. “Shut your mouth, Bowman, and put your hands behind your back.” He stood with his foot between the bigger man’s shoulders as Maddie searched Shea’s pockets, found the package of zip ties, and secured his hands behind his back.
“There,” she said, dusting her hands together. “Now you know how it feels.”
“Bitch,” Shea said half-heartedly, but Maddie wasn’t offended. It was hard to take very seriously a drunk who was lying face down on a damp concrete floor with a foot on his back.
With his good hand, Jack grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up to a sitting position.
Maddie started for the steps, but Jack stopped her, grasping her shoulder. “What the hell were you thinking, coming out here all alone?” His eyes sparked sapphire, even in the dim light.
She seized his shirt front. “I was thinking I’d do what any crew super would do if an employee called in sick. I handled it.” She gave him her fiercest look, daring him to chew her butt with another word.
He stared at her, emotions ranging from frustration to relief to something more tender all crossing his face before he swallowed hard visibly and tugged her into a one-armed embrace. “You’re right,” he whispered against her cheek. “You were doing your job and I’m grateful. You caught our bad guy.” He glanced over his shoulder at Shea, who was still on the floor groaning. “I like your style, Maddie Ross, but I’m going to have to remember not to test you too far—I’d hate to end up like our friend here.”
She tipped her head back and gazed at him from under her lashes. “I can think of several less painful ways to bring you to your knees, Jack Walker.”
“Is that so?” The hungry challenge in his eyes sent shivers coursing through her, but now was not the time to explore the electricity between them.
She slipped her arm around his waist. “Let’s go.”
“Don’t leave me down here!” Shea cried when, arm in arm, Maddie and Jack headed up the stairs.
Jack didn’t look back. “Get outta here on your own or wait for the police. Your call, but we’re done.”
A siren sounded, then another and another. By the time Maddie had helped a gray-faced Jack up the stairs, two police cars and an ambulance were pulling into the gravel drive, and right behind them, Eli’s crew cab pickup. Nearly before he came to a complete stop, Joe, Cam, and Annabelle piled out, rushing up to surround them, everyone exclaiming at once.
Jack didn’t take his arm from around Maddie’s shoulders. In fact, he kept her snugged close to his side as he fielded his family’s questions, even touched his lips to her temple once, causing his family to side-eye each other and stare in amazement at Maddie. Before they could react, though, he swayed and sagged against her, so she wrapped both her arms around his waist and led him to the ambulance. There was plenty of time to tell their story later.
Chapter Eighteen
But there wasn’t time. At least not for Maddie. As soon as she released Jack to the EMTs, the whole Walker clan crowded around the back of the ambulance. Not that they were shoving her aside exactly. But as she began to feel a bit extraneous, Rye came up to pull her away and get her statement. It was a long process, relating step-by-step all that happened with Shea Bowman, who was looking dejected as two police officers dragged him up the basement steps. She halfway expected him to snarl at her as they frog-marched him past her, but he didn’t even glance up. Just before they put him in the cruiser, he bent over and emptied the contents of his stomach on the ground.
