For Her Pleasure

  “What’s up?” Ryder asked. “You and Kit at home?”

  Mac sighed. “I wish. I got called in. Big drug bust over on 107. Look, I got David to run Kit home. Can you go over and stay with her until I get done here?”

  “Sure, she already there?”

  Mac checked his watch. “Yeah, she should be. She got off at eleven.”

  “I’ll head over now.”

  “Thanks, Ryder. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done with all this freaking paperwork.”

  Mac hung up and turned his attention to the parade of handcuffed prisoners being stuffed into the array of cruisers. What bad fucking timing. They’d been after the drug dealers running their shit over the county line for over a year. And tonight of all nights, the break had to come. Just when he was on the cusp of the most important conversation of his life.

  He holstered his gun and climbed into his truck. He’d run by the station, finish up his shit, and then he was heading home to Kit.

  Ten minutes later, he turned into the parking lot of the station and shut off the engine. Before he could get out, his cell rang. It was Ryder.

  “Talk to me,” he said.

  “Mac, when did you say Kit got off from work?”

  Mac frowned. He didn’t like the worry he heard in Ryder’s voice. Ryder didn’t get worried unless there was a damn good reason.

  “Eleven.” He checked his watch again. Damn, it was almost midnight.

  “She’s not here,” Ryder said. “I don’t think anyone’s been here all night.”

  Mac’s blood ran cold. “Did you try her house?”

  “Yeah, I ran by there a minute ago. No one’s been there either. I tried her cell and got no answer. I called the bar, and Rose said she and David left at ten thirty.”

  A loud roar began in Mac’s ears. An hour and a half? No where David could possibly have driven her would take an hour and a half.

  “Hang tight. I’m on my way over,” Mac said.

  He tore out of the parking lot, leaving a layer of rubber six feet long. Exactly three minutes later, he skidded to a halt in his drive. Ryder leaped down from the porch where he’d waited and strode over, his expression grim.

  “No one’s seen David or Kit since they left. David isn’t home.”

  An eerie tingle skirted up Mac’s spine. Something David said earlier. Only now did it sink in. Realization hit him square in the chest, sucking his breath right out of his lungs.

  “Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch!”

  “Tell me,” Ryder demanded.

  “It was him. It was him all along,” Mac shouted.

  “Who?”

  “David! Earlier tonight, he said something about her tattoo. He knew exactly what it looked like and where it was on her body.”

  Ryder’s eyes glittered in the night. “She never showed it to anyone but us, and I know she damn well wouldn’t have spread that kind of information about herself.”

  “Exactly. Which means the son of a bitch has seen it firsthand. Goddamn, Ryder, he raped her. The bastard raped her!”

  Mac’s fury spiraled out of control. He punched the door of his truck, putting a fair size dent where his fist landed. “We’ve got to find her, Ryder. The bastard is out of his mind. I don’t like to think of what he could do to her.”

  “We’ll split up. I’ll go west on my bike. You take the east. I’ll keep my phone ready. Call me if you see anything.”

  Mac nodded. “I’m calling into the station. Get the other men out there looking.”

  Kit crawled from the cobwebs surrounding her brain. She could feel hands on her. Unfamiliar hands. They stroked her flesh, and she shivered in revulsion.

  She opened her eyes and blinked as she tried to see through the curtain of dark. She tried to move, but found she was awkwardly positioned. Her hands were tied behind her at her waist, and they dug painfully into her back as she laid on them. Her chest bowed unnaturally, and she tried to roll over so she could regain feeling in her numb arms. God, where was she?

  It was dark. Only the soft gleam from the cab light illuminated the night. Then she saw him. David stared menacingly down at her, promise in his eyes. Promise to hurt her once again.

  Cool metal pressed into her shoulders. She glanced around to see she was lying in the bed of his truck, her legs dangling off the tailgate. A quick appraisal of her clothes revealed he’d stripped her of her jeans and shirt. Only her bra and underwear kept her from being completely nude.

  “You’re awake,” he said.

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  He slapped her across the face, and she saw stars.

  “Keep a civil tongue,” he warned.

  “Or what?” she taunted. “Like you haven’t already done your worst.”

  He looked so seriously at her, she fell silent.

  “Oh no, Kit, I haven’t done my worst. Far from it. I made love to you. Showed you what we could have together. But you threw it all away to become Mac and Ryder’s slut.”

  “You raped me,” she spit out.

  He shook his head. He reached down and grabbed her knees with his hands, his grip bruising. He yanked her legs apart and moved closer to her. Lord help her. She was completely vulnerable in this position.

  “I’m going to give you a chance, Kit. A chance to see how good it can be.”

  “Oh, is that why you tied me up?” she said scornfully. “You know, David, if you have to tie a woman up to have sex with her, chances are she isn’t too crazy about you.”

  “Shut up!” he screamed.

  But she wouldn’t be silenced. She’d been a victim six months ago, but she’d be damned if she remained one. The sorry bastard was going to regret betraying her friendship. It wasn’t something she offered to many people.

  His hand yanked at her bra, pulling it down until one of her breasts was bared. He inched his fingers up her body, and she struggled to keep away from him. When his thumb brushed across her nipple, she lost control and let her rage fly.

  She pulled her legs back to her chest and kicked him right in the face. He stumbled back, holding his nose. She didn’t give him any more time to react. She rolled toward the tailgate, and when he loomed over her again, she kicked again.

  It gained her enough time to scramble off the end of the truck. She hit the ground hard, her breath leaving her in a painful thud. Her hands, still bound together, sought purchase on the soil below. She pushed herself up and ran for her life.

  Behind her, David bellowed in rage and took off after her.

  She ran headlong into the woods surrounding her. She had no idea where she was or where she was going, but she wasn’t going to stay there and take what he had planned for her.

  Tree limbs slapped her in the face. Vines and thorns clutched at her legs, and still, she ran. Blindly, her blood humming in her veins, she pushed harder into the suffocating darkness. Complete panic flooded her mind. She couldn’t see.

  Her foot caught on a root, and she went flying. She landed on her chest, her forehead slamming against the ground. She lay there, robbed of breath, trying desperately to summon the strength to get back up and run again.

  Think, Kit, think! She had to keep a level head if she was going to stay ahead of David. Running around like a chicken with its head cut off was not going to help her. She had to outsmart him.

  She managed to get to her knees and hoist herself up. She looked up to the sky, trying to find even one star amongst the black cover. She needed a sense of direction. Something to keep her from going in circles and getting caught. And she had to be quiet.

  But then she heard the heavy sound of a man thrashing through the woods, and she forgot all about her plan to outwit him. She ran.

  How long she continued her grueling pace, she didn’t know. Her lungs burned as if someone had turned a blowtorch on them. Her legs spasmed and convulsed. She fell too many times to count, but she forged ahead, deeper into the thick, overgrown forest.

  Finally, the floor opened up so her path wasn’t as im
peded. She put on a burst of speed. Just as hope began to beat a steady rhythm in her heart, she stepped in a hole. Her ankle popped and twisted, and she went headlong into a pile of leaves.

  She cried out at the pain lashing up her leg. Tears of frustration streamed down her face. Her eyes closed in exhaustion as she went limp. She couldn’t stop now.

  She began dragging herself along the rough ground. Finally, she couldn’t go another inch. Spots flashed across her eyes, and her head lolled back.

  CHAPTER 13

  Mac drove down the old dirt county road like a man possessed. Five minutes ago, they’d gotten a report of a truck matching the description of David’s vehicle at one of the turnouts.

  Ryder was behind him on his motorcycle, and Mac had called for backup. Two more squad cars were enroute.

  He’d let her down again. He’d gift wrapped and delivered her right into her attacker’s hands. Mac pounded the steering wheel in fury and drove his truck to its limits.

  Ahead he saw a glint. His headlights bounced off the reflector of a taillight. He slammed on his brakes and fishtailed on the gravel road, finally coming to a stop near the ditch.

  He leaped out of the truck, pulling his gun. Ryder ran over as well, and in the distance, Mac could hear sirens.

  “It’s his truck,” Mac said.

  He and Ryder ran over to the parked truck only to find it empty. Mac circled the vehicle and found the tailgate opened. He grabbed his flashlight from his belt loop and shined it over the bed. He froze when he saw the unmistakable smear of blood on the edge of the tailgate.

  Two seconds later, two squad cars roared up, their floodlights shining toward Mac.

  Ray Hartley and Sean Gardner, two sheriff’s deputies, stepped out of their cars and hurried toward David’s truck.

  “You find anything, Mac?” Ray asked as they approached.

  “Negative,” Mac returned.

  “Think they could be in the woods?” Sean asked.

  A sound behind Mac whirled him around. He threw up his flashlight, and to his shock saw David stumble from the woods. Mac’s heart stopped. Blood was smeared down the front of David’s shirt. He looked rough and bloodied, scratches on his face. His clothing was torn. As if he’s just gone through the fight of his life.

  The three deputies pulled their weapons simultaneously.

  “Down on your knees!” Sean barked.

  Mac ran to where David had sunk to the ground, rage pumping through his veins. “Where is she?” he demanded. “Where is she?”

  He pulled David to his feet and gathered his bloodied shirt in his hands. “What did you do to her?”

  David smiled. It was a vacant expression, eerie and evil. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Mac lost all control. He slammed his fist into David’s jaw, and the other man crumpled. Mac went down after him. Behind him, Ryder, Sean and Ray made no move to stop him.

  Mac hit him again and again. “Tell me where she is!”

  But David remained silent.

  Finally the others pulled Mac off David’s wilted form. Mac struggled and fought like a madman. David had killed her. He knew it. He just knew it.

  Tears streamed down his face as the three men pinned him against the truck and held him.

  “It’s all right, man. We’ll find her, I swear,” Sean murmured close to his ear.

  But what would they find? Mac jerked away and buried his face against the side of the truck. God, he had to find her. He wouldn’t let her stay out there alone.

  “You don’t know that he killed her,” Ray said quietly. “He didn’t try to kill her last time. Chances are she’s out there. Hurt, but alive.”

  Mac’s fists clenched as hot fury poured over him like molten lava. “Call everybody out,” he said hoarsely. “I won’t rest until she’s found.”

  He turned to Ryder, whose expression was as haunted as his own had to be. Ryder nodded.

  Ray walked over to his squad car and returned with a duffel bag. “Here’s a couple of floodlights and a flare. Sean’s radioed in for a search party. We’ll take the scumbag in and be back out to help. Keep your radio on you and send up a flare if you find her.”

  Mac threw one of the lights to Ryder. “Let’s split up.”

  Ryder nodded and headed into the woods.

  As Mac tromped through the heavy brush, his hopes sank further. How on earth would they ever find her in this shit? Sweat lay thick on him. The evening air, humid and suffocating, hung like a cloak of doom.

  For hours he waded through heavy brush, swinging his spotlight in a radius around him. He’d shouted Kit’s name until he was hoarse.

  Sean and Ray had long ago radioed that they’d joined the search along with a group of volunteers. As time passed, Mac became more and more convinced they’d find a body.

  The radio crackled beside him, and he paused to rest a moment. He mopped the sweat from his forehead and grabbed the radio. “Ryder, any luck?”

  He knew the futility of the question. Ryder would have radioed immediately if he’d found anything, but the silence was driving Mac insane.

  “Nothing.”

  The one word, so full of despair, nearly sent Mac over the edge. He closed his eyes and screamed her name, willing there to be an answer.

  The only sound that resonated through the forest was the chirping of crickets and the sound of tree locusts.

  Above him the sky was starting to lighten the tiniest bit, and he knew dawn wasn’t far off. They should have found her by now.

  He stumbled off again, refusing to concede defeat. The way became easier as the undergrowth thinned. He picked up his pace, scanning the area with his flashlight.

  He almost missed the flash of pale skin as he swung the light to the right. In a flash, he yanked the light back to the two trees he’d scanned by. His heart plummeted when he finally saw what it was.

  Huddled in the underbrush, nearly concealed by the mound of leaves and downed branches, lay Kit. She faced away from him, so still. Her hands were tied behind her back. She wore only panties— torn panties—and a bra.

  His throat closed. He ran for her.

  “Kit! Oh my God, Kit!” He rolled her over and gathered her in his arms. Her face, oh God, so pale, bruised. Blood. Whose blood? “Kit, baby, sweetheart, oh my God, please be alive.”

  He didn’t know what to do first. With trembling fingers, he felt for a pulse. His heart soared, and breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding escaped in a whoosh when he felt the slight tremor at her neck.

  He yanked his pocketknife out and sawed the ropes at her hands until they fell away. With extreme care, he rolled her over until she lay in his arms. His bag. He needed his bag.

  Easing her down to the ground, he crawled over to his bag and ripped a blanket and the flare gun out. He moved back to Kit and arranged the blanket around her near-naked body. He fumbled with his radio, dropping it once in his haste. A muffled curse slipped from his lips as he snatched it up again.

  “I’ve found her. She’s alive. I’m sending up a flare.”

  He dropped the radio and aimed the flare skyward. It arced above the trees, leaving a bright red trail in the air.

  Ryder’s voice carried over the radio. “On my way.”

  “We’ll have an ambulance on standby,” Ray broke in.

  Mac cradled her body to him, holding her close, rocking her back and forth. “Kit, baby, please be all right,” he whispered. “Wake up, baby. I need you. God, be okay.”

  He smoothed her matted hair from her dirty face, his fingers trembling as he touched the dark bruise on one cheek. What had David done to her? He buried his face in her neck and felt hot