Angry with herself for leaving the car in the first place, Faith sat down on the steps and tried to come up with a plan. She’d always been good at planning. Think. There had to be a solution. All she had to do was rationalize and think. She was deep in concentration when a familiar male voice sent her stomach plummeting.
“Lose something?”
Ohmygod! She jumped up, ready to run, as Royce appeared from the back of the house.
His silent-footed approach felt predatory, and the cold contempt she glimpsed in his eyes as he drew closer pumped adrenalin through her veins at break-neck speed.
“What did you do with my car?” Her voice faltered only a little. Desperation fueled her grit. Kept her focused.
“You shouldn’t have run away, Faith,” Royce said in a voice too smooth to be sincere. “I looked everywhere for you.” He reached out and circled her wrist with his fingers. Tightened them like a steel trap.
She knew it was useless to try to pull away. Instead, she elbowed her arm into his chest, twisted hard and jerked free from his grasp before he had a chance to react.
Panic pushed her to ignore the stitch in her side and keep running. Royce’s angry shouts followed her as she dashed down the street, not daring to slow down. She placed a protective hand on her stomach and prayed no harm would come to the baby.
The entrance to the subdivision was almost in front of her when her foot caught on a stone. Stumbling, she flung her hands out to keep from pitching forward just as Royce caught up with her and snaked his arm around her from behind.
“Why do you keep running?” he whispered, his mouth much too close to her ear.
“Please, I...”
He squeezed her middle so tight she could barely breathe. Black spots danced before her eyes.
“Answer me.” Harsh words seared her skin. “Explain how you two-timed me with that white trash. How you let a convict’s son get you pregnant.” With a swift jerk, he pulled her against him. “You little bitch,” he rasped. “Make a fool out of me, will you?”
Twisting her arm behind her, he pushed her back along the sidewalk.
Swallowing hard, Faith struggled to keep from passing out. She had to stay focused. Had to get away. Dear God, Royce’s anger was the very thing she’s been afraid of. His temper flare-ups had become more frequent during their relationship, but never as volatile or as threatening as this.
“Royce, please don’t do this,” she pleaded. Frantic, she surveyed the development’s empty streets, heart sinking and hope fading. There were no occupants in the newly-built houses yet. No one nearby to hear her cry for help.
Royce shoved her into the house, and she screamed anyway. And when the back of his hand struck sharply across her mouth, she cried out again, tasting the blood from her split lip. His crushing hold on her wrist was the only thing keeping her from falling to her knees. Tears of pain gathered in her eyes. Blurred her vision.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Shut up! That bumbling grease-monkey you married can’t help you now.” His eyes narrowed to sinister slits.
The threat she saw in them sent chills of terror coursing through her. Dear God, he was right. Buddy Lee had no idea where she was. How could he or anyone else help her now? Why hadn’t she told him all of the truth instead of only part of it? Now it was too late.
Dammit, I told her to stay put. After searching every room, Buddy Lee stormed from the house. He’d come home to find Faith gone, and now he scanned the street in frustration. Was it so hard for her to do as he’d asked? He’d only been thinking of her health. Her safety. She needed to take it easy and avoid stress. That’s why he’d brought home take-out chicken for their lunch. The reason he’d closed the shop for an hour at noon to check on her, something he’d never done before. But then, when had she ever stopped to consider the consequences of her impulsiveness?He paced the porch, hands stuffed in his pockets. When the thought hit him, he slapped his forehead and ran for his truck. Her car.
She could be stubborn as a sticker-burr when it came to getting her own way. Probably walked clear over to the subdivision in this blasted heat, too. Grinding gears, he down-shifted and headed in the direction of the subdivision.
Faith hadn’t changed much in the years he’d known her, he reflected as he took the first corner on two wheels. Act first, reason later, had always been her M.O. when they were younger. By the looks of things, she was still impulsive. And that was exactly why she needed him now, even if she didn’t know it yet. Why he couldn’t get rid of the fist of fear balled in his gut.
He would’ve driven right past the empty-looking house if he hadn’t seen the shadows of two people in the curtainless bay window facing the street. He slammed on the brakes, cut the engine and raced to the front door.
“Faith, you in there?” He pounded his fist against the paneled oak. “Faith?” He could hear raised voices – someone’s cry. Dammit all, what was going on? “Faaaith!”
Still shouting, Buddy Lee sprinted around the house, rammed the back door open with his shoulder and barreled straight into the corporate-suited figure of Royce Webb.
Royce had Faith pinned against him, one arm around her waist, the other hooked under her chin.
Buddy Lee saw red. “What the...?”
Fear glazed Faith’s eyes. “Run, Buddy Lee. Get out before he hurts you, too.”
Fury propelled him forward. He flew at them, swinging and cussing. “Webb, you lousy... Uummph!”
Royce chanced a jab with one hand, but Buddy Lee deflected the blow with his shoulder.
“Let her go. Now!” He wrenched Faith loose from Royce’s grip, then pushed her out of the way right before he sent the other man to his knees with a jab to the gut.
Royce doubled over. Buddy Lee yanked him up by the shirt front and hammered another blow to his jaw. The crunch was loud enough to assure Buddy Lee his aim was right on target.
Royce grunted, staggered to his feet and swung wildly. A lucky punch thwacked across Buddy Lee’s face. Blood spurted and he grabbed his injured nose, losing his focus just long enough to give Royce a chance to ram his lowered head into his ribs.
“Stop it, stop it!” Faith jumped between them, clawing at Royce and screaming.
“No, Faith, get back!” Buddy Lee tried to push her out of harm’s way, but she ignored his warning shout.
Royce bellowed when her nails raked down his cheek. “Get the hell off me!”
One ruthless slash of his open hand sent Faith reeling across the room. She crumpled to the floor with a moan.
Enraged, Buddy Lee plowed into Royce like a madman.
“Bastard!” His last swing went wild and his fist glanced off the side of Royce’s jaw. Royce staggered and bolted for the door.
Buddy Lee scrambled over to where Faith leaned against the wall. When he gathered her in his arms, she melted against him with a sob.
“I...don’t feel so good,” she murmured into his torn, bloody shirt.
“C’mon, darlin’, I’m taking you to Doc Sutter.” He scooped her up in his arms, wobbling a little on his not-so-steady legs.
“Nooo, not him.” Faith’s small fist thunked Buddy Lee’s chest. “I made an appointment next week with a new doctor in Granite City. Everyone in Liberty goes to Doc Sutter.”
Buddy Lee ignored her weak protest. “Granite City’s too far away. You need attention now.” He helped her into the truck, making sure her safety belt was buckled before climbing in and shoving the key in the ignition.
Tamping down the sense of urgency that made him want to imitate a NASCAR driver, he white-knuckled the steering wheel and concentrated on keeping the truck under the speed limit.
Unfortunately, his brain waves kept rotating back to Faith and how close she’d come to getting seriously hurt.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he blurted.
The instant the words were out, he regretted them, but he was so damned angry the hot burst of fury rushed ahead of his good sense. Next thing he kne
w, he was shooting his mouth off without thinking.
A sideways glance at Faith sitting rigid and silent next to him told him he’d hurt her feelings. But what if Royce had managed to take her away before he’d gotten there? What if she’d been badly injured...or worse? What if he hadn’t gone to the house in the first place? The what-ifs still crowding his brain pure-D terrified him. What if he’d lost her?
He hadn’t meant to lose his temper. Not at her. But seeing Royce manhandle her had been more painful than having a knife plunged into his heart. He was still reeling from the impact of that scene. That was no excuse for the way he’d just hollered at her, though. No excuse for acting like a jackass, either. Boyd’s boy was living up to his name. Doing a sorry job of being a friend, too.
Aware that his harsh words were the cause of the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, he had to try to make amends somehow. Had to show her he wasn’t like Royce in any way, shape or form. But how?
“Faith?”
She didn’t answer him. Just hugged her arms tight across her chest like she trying to keep her feelings from escaping. What was she thinking? That he was as awful as Royce? Guilt weighed heavy on his conscience.
“Faith, hon, I’m sorry for yelling, but when I couldn’t find you at home, I panicked. And when I saw Royce hurting you ....” His words trailed off into the silence surrounding them.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know.”
The sadness behind her words cut through to the very core of his soul. A simple apology wasn’t going to be enough. How much damage had he done to their fragile relationship?
Without another word she slipped her hand under his and some of the heaviness in his heart lifted. She kept it there until he stopped the truck in front of the doctor’s office and he reluctantly drew his away to turn off the ignition.
She looked at him then, green eyes as promising as the first buds of spring, and the sweet forgiveness in her smile made his heart swell with hope. Gently, he brushed his lips across her bruised ones and knew he could never love her more.
With his arm firmly around her, they made their way up the walk.
Chapter Nine
“You’re lucky you caught me before I went upstairs for lunch,” the doctor said as he opened the front door and ushered the pair into the waiting room. “Had some stitching up to do on Mary Brady’s youngest. Caught his leg on a barbed wire fence chasing after his dog.” He clucked his tongue. “Kids.”
Noel Sutter’s smile was warm, reflecting the deep affection he had for his patients. One of the reasons he was so popular with them.
He motioned toward the half-circle of chairs opposite the unoccupied desk where his nurse usually sat. “Now, you go ahead and get comfortable, Buddy Lee, while I take Faith with me and see what this is all about. There’s magazines to read in the rack. Nothing about cars, though.” He spread his hands in apology.
“That’s okay, Doc, I’m too wired to read.”
The doctor eyed him intently. “I’ll take a look at that nose of yours, soon as I finish with Faith.” He led her into the next room.
The doctor’s office occupied the lower floor of a restored, two-story Victorian house two blocks west of town. At one time, it had been the home of the town founder, but when the last of the heirs died, young Noel Sutter had purchased it and opened his medical practice. With his living quarters on the upper level, he was on call twenty-four hours every day. Had been for forty some-odd years. It was a known fact that everyone in town rated him right up there next to the Almighty.
Faith accepted Doc Sutter’s help as she walked into the examining room. She couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been there for her. He’d treated every childhood ailment she’d ever had and bandaged innumerable scrapes and cuts. Answered her questions when her mother had been too embarrassed to discuss the facts of life with her. He knew her as well as her own mother did. Better, in fact. And that was the very reason she hadn’t wanted to come here. Some of the things he knew were extremely private.
“All right, young lady, let’s have a look at you,” he said.
He took her blood pressure and checked her pulse. Put his stethoscope to her chest and listened. Gently examined her bruises and swollen lip, then wrote on her chart.
His calm, methodical movements immediately eased her misgivings and she relaxed. The doctor was her friend. She could trust him.
“Now, my dear,” he said, his kind smile reaching his eyes, “why don’t you tell me what this is all about?” He laid his instruments aside and pulled up a stool. “I hear you and Buddy Lee got married. Guess the whole town knows it by now, eh?”
She nodded. Why couldn’t she bring herself to say anything? Noel Sutter would never be judgmental, but she was humiliated to have him see her like this. Again.
“Your injuries are minor, Faith, just a few simple abrasions. Nothing that needs stitching. But the bruises look a mite familiar.” He raised his eyebrows, his gaze lingering on her face. “Did Buddy Lee...?”
“Oh, no. No, of course not,” she interrupted. The last thing she wanted was for Buddy Lee to take the blame for any of this. “I...fell.”
Noel Sutter raked a hand through his shock of white hair. “I may be old, child, but I’m no fool. The last time I saw you with bruises on your arms and neck like these, you admitted it was Royce Webb who’d put them there. Didn’t I warn you then to be careful? To seriously consider ending that relationship?”
Faith felt the start of tears—the burning ache in her throat. She pressed her sore lips together to stifle a sob.
The grandfatherly doctor placed a comforting hand on her arm. “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
His gentle words broke the dam holding back her tears. She gave in and let them flow. All the tension of the past few weeks burst through her tightly controlled emotions as she related the events that had sent her to find Buddy Lee and ask for his help.
When the storm of confession finally passed, she took the tissue Doc offered, mumbled her thanks and wiped her eyes.
“You know I’ll need to examine you, Faith,” he told her. “To make sure the baby’s all right. You were knocked around pretty hard. My nurse, Molly, won’t be back for another twenty minutes. Why don’t you rest here until then?”
“I don’t want anyone in town to know the truth.”
“I understand. What you’ve told me here will never leave my office. And I assure you, Molly Higgins is trustworthy. The baby’s welfare, and yours, are my priority now. But if it happens again, I’ll insist you go to the authorities.” He took her hands in his, patted them. “I’ve known you since you were a youngster, Faith. Despite the fact that you were headstrong and impulsive, you’ve always had a loving heart. This baby needs you as much as you need it. And for what it’s worth, I think Buddy Lee is a fine choice for a husband and father. Promise me you’ll be careful and stay away from Royce. You did the right thing when you left him.”
Faith nodded and took the paper gown he handed her.
“I’d better give your husband a little man-to-man support now. Be back with Molly in a few minutes.” With that, he left the room.
Faith put the gown on and waited, deep in thought. Doc Sutter spoke the truth. She did need this baby to love, but how was she going to straighten out the tangle of deceit she’d managed to trap them both in? And how was she going to keep Royce from finding out the baby was his? She wouldn’t blame Buddy Lee if he backed out of their agreement...and marriage.
Royce Webb thought he was going to die right there in the alley next to the bar. Nausea swirled in his belly, but he was too scared to move. The gun pressed into his side belonged to one of Boots Ogden’s goons, and Royce’s gut heaved when the man rammed the automatic into his ribs for the second time.
“A few more days, that’s all I need!” His words slurred around the metallic taste of fear coating his tongue.
“The boss don’t like late payments, dude.”
Stub Peabody h
ad the build of a bull moose, thickset and dense. Royce knew the thug’s mentality was equally dense, but when someone the size of a mountain shoves a gun in your gut, it’s smart not to argue. The fierce desire to remain alive severely limited his ability to think rationally.
“I’ll get the money, Stub. I promise. Just ask Ogden to give me another week. Only one, that’s all I’m asking.”
Sweat slid down his forehead into his eyes, stung like hell. He wanted to wipe them, but didn’t dare lift his hand. God, he wanted a drink. Needed one to keep from losing his nerve. His mouth was so dry he couldn’t work up a good swallow, and he had the shakes bad.
Stub poked the weapon under Royce’s chin. “Why should I, pretty boy? What’s in it for me?”
Royce tried to swallow and felt the cold tip of the gun barrel nudge his Adam’s apple. Think, dammit! Think of something fast.
What would a hood like Stub want that Royce could get his hands on fast? Women were a dime a dozen at Ogden’s palatial estate near Lake Charles, Louisiana. The casinos drew them like bees around clover, and Ogden’s boys had their pick of them. Between women and expensive booze, there wasn’t much else that would interest this bull holding a gun.
“I’m waiting,” Stub growled. “I don’t like waiting.”
In desperation, Royce blurted out the first thing that came into his panicked mind. “A car. I can get you a car. How about a classic Mustang? You know, the real thing? You’ll have chicks falling all over you. What do you say?”
Shit, what had he done? His mind reeled. He’d just promised Walker’s Mustang to the idiot, when he’d planned on having it himself. But he was in no position to argue right now. He had to save his own skin.
The goon pursed his thick lips, shaggy eyebrows snaking into a dark scowl. “A Mustang, huh? How do I know you’re not just jerking me around?” He chucked the .38 a little harder into Royce’s throat.
“I...I wouldn’t lie to you." Royce fought the urge to gag. His voice shook so bad he could hear the tremors in every word. They coursed through his entire body, churned in his stomach, rattled his concentration. What if he couldn’t convince this oversized knucklehead? He licked his dry lips. He didn’t want to die.