Annoyed and taken off guard, Julie swatted at him. “Your vocabulary is atrocious.”
“Is that right?” He didn’t move away. “If you can’t say it, angel, how the hell are you going to do it?”
Julie studied his expression—and knew he wanted to scare her off. It annoyed her enough that she flattened both hands on his chest and shoved. She would have made a regal exodus from the bed, except that Clint didn’t budge. Even using all her strength, she couldn’t push him back a single inch.
“Quit trying to intimidate me.”
He snorted. “If I was trying, you’d probably faint again.”
“That was from hunger, not fear!”
Clint rolled his eyes and gave her a little space. Not much, but at least she could move without bumping her nose into his.
He still glared at her. “Now, answer my question.”
Refusing to let him see how affected she felt, Julie lifted her chin. “I thought we’d make love, not…the other.”
Aggrieved, Clint snarled, “Not that question. I meant, who did you plan to make love with before you met me?”
“Oh.” Julie shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Wearing a sneer, Clint said, “One of your buddies from Visitation? The spook, Jamie, or maybe the preacher’s twin?”
“Bryan?” Julie was amazed he remembered all the men she’d mentioned. “Oh, no. Bryan’s married already, too. In fact, all the really hunky guys in Visitation are married. Well, except Jamie, but I don’t think I could even find his home up on the mountain, much less talk him into—”
Clint’s eyes narrowed. “Hunky guys?”
“Whew, yes.” She fanned her face. “Visitation is practically overrun with dominant males. The testosterone hangs so thick in the air, it’s a wonder the women don’t all go insane.”
“You don’t say.”
Julie nodded. “It was bad enough when Joe Winston first showed up. Now, Joe’s a man with a capital M. A self-proclaimed bad boy and pretty dangerous in a very sexy way…”
“Are you trying to piss me off, Julie Rose?”
His voice went all soft and low in a way that told Julie he didn’t like the subject matter. She patted his chest, trying to soothe him. “Joe married Luna, and they moved to Visitation. He’s not available. Bryan sort of followed him there because some maniac wanted to kill Joe, but together they got the miscreant and put him away.”
“A killer?”
“He was no match for Joe and Bryan. They’re both much like you, except for the throwing up part. But what I mean is, they’re very capable and full of bravado, and they seem to think they’re invincible, and somehow they convince everyone else of that. Except maybe for Scott, the local deputy who’s pretty sexy in his own right. He lent a hand in capturing the man who was after Joe, and the pimp who tried to get Shay, and the crazed lunatic who tried to kill Cyn.”
“Did you say you moved to Peyton Place?”
Julie smiled. “Actually, Visitation is a very peaceful place, full of wonderful people.”
“You’ve certainly convinced me.”
“Now, don’t be sarcastic.”
“Was there a point to this story?”
“Yes. I was trying to explain how so much masculine perfection ended up in Visitation. You see, once Bryan visited the area, he kept coming back. It seems most people do that. There’s just something about Visitation that makes you want to settle there.”
“Could be all the killers and pimps and crazy people.”
She laughed. “Naturally, when Bryan decided to stay, his twin brother, Bruce, followed. They’re very close.”
Clint moved away from her, sat on the side of the bed, and put his head in his hands. The pose wreaked of masculinity. His broad back was bare, thick with muscle and divided by a deep furrow. His shoulders were bunched with frustration. His derriere in the snug boxers looked very fine.
She could spend a happy week just looking at him.
Without raising his head, Clint said, “You’re staring a hole through me, Julie Rose.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Trying to give an accurate depiction of Visitation and the denizens, Julie continued. “Jamie was there before any of them, although I don’t think he was born in Visitation. There’s something very mysterious about his past—”
“That’s enough.”
“It is?”
Clint looked over his shoulder at her. “I asked you who were you going to sleep with?”
“You.”
His mouth flattened with annoyance. “Before me, damn it.”
She scooted across the bed until she could kneel beside Clint. She liked being close to him; it made her feel somehow more confident. “That’s the thing. Before I met you, I wasn’t sure I’d find anyone. I’m not a prude, but I would not sleep with a man unless I found him very appealing on many levels.”
Clint stared at her. Hard.
Trying to feel encouraged despite his lack of response, Julie ticked off what she considered his best qualities. “You’re strong and very capable, but not cruel.”
“I can be cruel.”
“Only when necessary, I’m sure.”
Clint sighed.
“I feel safe with you.” She smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re very honorable.”
His eyes went cold and distant, shutting her out. “Don’t be naïve.”
“I’m not.”
“Like hell. At least see me for what I am, Julie Rose.”
As a teacher, Julie had dealt with enough insecure children to know vulnerability when she saw it. Beneath her hand, Clint’s shoulder had gone rock hard, giving away his tension. “You’re a good man.”
He shoved to his feet, rejecting her touch. “I’m a mercenary.”
“You still saved me.”
“Because I was paid to.”
She shook her head. She didn’t believe that was the only reason. She wouldn’t believe it.
“Shit.” Clint rubbed his face. “Stop looking like I’ve slapped you. I just want you to see the truth.”
“You’re being crude again.”
“I am crude. Crude and unscrupulous, and ten times more dangerous than your buddy, Joe.”
“Joe might be dangerous, but he’s also honorable. Just like you.”
His hands curled into fists. “No, goddammit, I’m not.”
“Stop yelling at me.”
He looked ready to detonate. “I’m trying to make you understand what a mistake it’d be to—”
Another rap sounded on the door. Red cleared his throat. “You two planning to emerge soon or what? We’re starving over here.”
Clint turned away from her. “Get dressed, Julie Rose. You’ve got ten minutes.” And without another word, he stormed through the door, but shut it very softly behind him.
He wasn’t that far away, and Julie still felt abandoned. Rejected. Even lost. She sat there for a full two minutes, not moving, hardly breathing. He’d been so…sweet, so caring—right up until she wanted to care back.
She went over their conversation, everything they’d done, and tried to order the events into some sort of rationale. But no matter how she tried, she didn’t understand him. He wanted her, she couldn’t be wrong about that.
Whatever reasons Clint had for trying to warn her off, her reasons for wanting to know him better were stronger. She wasn’t a woman to turn tail and run at the first sign of difficulty. One way or another, she’d get Clint Evans figured out.
He might be a hard-edged, fully capable mercenary, but she was a schoolteacher, and that meant she had the advantage.
Clint felt like putting a hole in the wall as he stalked past Mojo and Red. Because they were friends, they didn’t heed his dark look as most sane men would have. No, if anything, they showed their annoyance by staring.
“What?”
Mojo just continued to glare, but Red got right in his face and hissed, “What the hell is the matter with you?”
Knowing he had it coming, disgusted with himself for letting things get out of hand, Clint crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
“We heard every fucking word, and you,” Red accused with a mean but hushed snarl, “were being a complete bastard.”
No shit. He’d damn near taken her. If he’d had five minutes more, he’d probably be coming right now, buried deep inside her. “I lost control. It won’t happen again.”
Red’s face pinched up even more. “She wants it to happen again.”
Doing a double take, totally disbelieving, Clint snapped, “Don’t be a fucking idiot.”
“It’s better than being an abusive jerk.”
“Abusive?” Incredulity rang in his voice. He’d walked away, goddammit, when walking away was about the hardest thing he’d done in years.
“We heard you, Clint. You were downright mean to her.”
Clint thought his head might explode. “I was trying to clue her in. She’s goddamned naïve and—”
“Keep your voice down.” Red grabbed his arm and hauled him to the far side of the room, like that afforded any privacy.
Rather than punch one of his best friends, Clint went along.
“She’s a real sweet woman, Clint.”
Red’s quiet words, filled with admiration, rubbed him on the raw. “She’s pushy.”
“She’s smart.”
“Not about men.”
“You like her.”
Clint locked his jaw. “No, I want her.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Red leaned around Clint to see Mojo. “Do you believe this bullshit?”
Mojo shook his head in a very pitying way.
Red faced him again. “Listen to me, Clint. That little lady in there”—his finger pointed in the direction of the other door, where he’d left Julie Rose looking as though her favorite puppy had just been run over—“went through hell yesterday, and regardless of how tough she wants to think she is, or what kind of front she puts on, right now, you’re her lifeline. Not me, not Mojo. You. So quit giving her such a hard time.”
Clint bunched his shoulders and braced his feet apart. His eyes narrowed. “So if you’d been her lifeline, you’d be in there fucking her right now?”
Red’s face turned nearly purple, and Clint braced himself for an attack.
In a fury-filled whisper, Red said, “You sorry son of a bitch.”
Mojo sat up, ready to intercede if necessary.
“Shit.” Because Clint didn’t want to fight with his friends, he took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. “That was out of line.”
“You’re damn right.”
Knowing his point was valid, Clint said, “But listen to yourself, Red. You’re suggesting that after all the trauma she’s suffered, I should’ve given her some jollies in bed, like that’ll make everything all right.”
Red, too, backed down a little. “You know how women are. Maybe that’s what she needs right now to help her settle down.”
“For the love…If she heard you say that, if any self-respecting woman heard you say that, you’d probably be castrated.”
A little uncomfortable, Red shrugged. “It may have escaped your notice, but women are different from men. And as far as that goes, no two women are alike.”
Clint looked at Mojo. “Now that he’s married, he’s an expert on womankind?”
Half smiling, Mojo shrugged.
“I’m serious here, Clint. Whenever Daisy’s feeling sad or frazzled, it works with her. Not just the sex part, but the cuddling and stuff. Women like the closeness. It makes them feel more secure, and that little lady in there could use some security.”
“I can damn well keep her secure without stepping over the line.”
Mojo said, “You already slept with her.”
Like he’d ever forget? Holding Julie Rose throughout the night had somehow given him a sense of peace that had been missing from his life for a good long while. Considering he’d known her only hours, the closeness he felt was bizarre—but true all the same. “Right. We slept.”
“Now she wants more.” Red held out his hands. “Where’s the harm?”
“You’re both morons.”
“At least we’re not cowards.”
Clint jerked around to face Mojo. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “What. Was. That?”
Not the least intimidated, Mojo pushed out of the bed. His obsidian eyes were unflinching, his posture relaxed. “No man scares you, Clint. We know that. But women—”
“Good women,” Red clarified.
“—always send you into a tailspin.”
Jaw tight, Clint struggled to control his unreasonable anger. “The last good woman I tried to help damn near destroyed me. She ruined me financially and came close to landing me in jail.”
“This isn’t at all the same. That broad had some real problems.”
“And you think Julie Rose doesn’t?”
“Nothing you can’t fix.”
Forcing an incredulous laugh, Clint threw up his arms. “I was hired to get her away from the kidnappers, not to fix her.”
“You weren’t hired to sleep with her either,” Red pointed out. “Or braid her hair, or help her dress, or any of the other shit you’ve done. And it’s those things that have her thinking a little more is in line.”
Clint decided he’d had enough of the ridiculous conversation. Truth was, he hadn’t known that many good women. And the ones he thought were had turned quick enough when it mattered most. Julie Rose would probably be no different.
But even as he thought that, he knew it couldn’t be true. “If you two were so hell-bent on getting the lady laid, why’d you knock on the door?”
Mojo rolled a shoulder. “Didn’t know what you were doing then.”
Red nodded. “It wasn’t until afterward, when you started giving her hell, that we figured out what we’d interrupted.”
And thank God they had, Clint thought. Otherwise they’d probably be telling him to propose. “If we’re done dissecting my psyche, can we get on with business?”
Red started to object, but a small tap sounded on the door that divided the two rooms, and a second later, Julie Rose stepped in. She’d brushed her hair into some absurd matronly bun that seemed doubly out of place with the colorful sundress Red had bought her.
It was yellow with splashy pink flowers. The elasticized top fit snug to her small pert breasts, and the skirt fell loose to a few inches below her knees. Her narrow feet were slipped into flat pink sandals.
Shoulders straight, head held high, she carried the shopping bag, filled with her other things, in one hand, and leaned on the doorknob with the other.
Her expression was distant, her gaze flat. She looked emotionally wounded, her feelings as battered as her body. “I’m ready.”
Clint soaked in the sight of her. Her brown eyes wouldn’t meet his, and her mouth was pinched. Had she overheard their conversation? Probably.
“How’s your ankle?”
She stared at the far wall. “I’ll manage.”
His eyes narrowed and his muscles felt stiff.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Lifting her chin another notch, she glared at him. “You can see it’s still a little swollen, and it’s sore, but I can walk on it as long as we move slowly.” She gave her attention back to the wall. “I won’t be a burden to you today.”
Clint struggled with himself, wanting to apologize, wanting to hold her, but knowing it might be best to just let it go. So he stood there like an idiot while Red reassured her, saying, “You weren’t a burden,” at the same time that Mojo sauntered over to her, went to one knee, and lifted her foot.
Watching her face, Clint saw the way she tried to hide her pain. It infuriated him. “Mojo?”
“She shouldn’t be on it.” Then, taking both Clint and Julie Rose off guard, Mojo easily lifted her up against his chest and took the two steps to the bed. With infinite care, he set her on the edge of the mattress.
Red poured her a cup of coffee made from the in-room coffee machine. When he looked at Julie Rose, his expression was gentle. “We’ll grab some breakfast on the road, but this’ll help for now.”
Very prim, Julie thanked him and accepted the disposable cup. Her eyes met Clint’s over the rim as she took a small sip.
Just as quickly, she looked away.
Damn it, Clint didn’t want the others catering to her. He sure as hell didn’t want them touching her and smiling with her…He stalked across the room and opened one overnight bag to withdraw the small cell phone. If he kept his mind on business, then maybe he’d get through this.
“Who are you calling?” Julie inquired, and she sounded both suspicious and worried.
“Your fiancé,” he replied, deliberately nudging her temper because he could handle anything better than her current hurt, reserved disposition.
In her best teacher’s voice, she said, “You must learn to pay closer attention, Clint. Robert is not my fiancé.” And then, under her breath, “Whether you want him to be or not.”
Clint sat in a chair. “He’s damn lucky he’s not.”
“Why?” Julie asked.
And Red, grinning like a fool, said, “Because then Clint would probably kill him.”
Since that wasn’t too far off the mark, Clint didn’t respond. “I need you all to be quiet.” Using the cell phone, he dialed in a number.
“What are you doing?”
Red leaned close to Julie—too damn close as far as Clint was concerned—and explained how the phone worked. “Anything Robert has said or done within range of the recorder will be played back for us to hear.”
Julie shot an accusing glare at Clint. “You still suspect Robert?”
“I suspect everyone. Now hush.”
The phone beeped, once, twice. Clint pushed another button, and all conversations from Robert’s office began playing back. By setting the phone onto the nightstand and opening the volume, they could all listen.
A male voice, not Robert’s, spoke. “Have you found her?”
“Drew! I wasn’t expecting you.” A few shuffling sounds, then, “I thought you were going to wait for my call.”
“I detest waiting. Surely you know something by now?”
“Uh, no. Not yet. But we agreed you’d wait at your house. What if the kidnappers call you—”
“Why in God’s name would they call me? The note was sent to you. The demands were made of you.” Drew’s voice rose in panic as he spoke.
“You haven’t heard anything? You’re sure?”
“I’ve been right here, waiting.”
Something smashed to the floor, making Julie jump and Clint frown. “Dear God,” Drew raged, on the verge of hysteria. “This doesn’t make any sense. You should have gotten a call by now.” There was a pause; then Drew whispered, “The note said that they’d contact you with the place to pick her up. We’ve followed their orders. We didn’t call the police. Where is she?”
“Drew, perhaps it’s time to think of hiring someone…”
“She’s been gone for too long. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”
“Calm down, Drew. It’ll be okay.”
“Okay? How can it possibly be okay when Julie is being held hostage, when even right now she could be…” His voice faded away to a soft, tortured groan. “We have to do something.”
“Exactly. Perhaps I should hire someone to seek her out.”
Aghast, Drew whispered, “But that could get her killed.”
“I don’t think so,” Robert soothed. “It’s probably someone she met, someone she got involved with who found out she has money. She’s not at all discreet.”
Clint thought he might kill Robert after all.
Drew’s voice grew strained and harsh. “God, I pray you’re right.”
Clint saw Julie put a hand to her throat in regret. “Why doesn’t Robert tell him—”
“Shh.” Red squeezed her hand. “Just listen.”
“This is my fault,” Drew said. “I should have protected her. I should have—”
“Nonsense. You’ve been very good to her.” There was the clink of crystal, and Robert said, “Here, drink this. It’ll help you calm down.”
“I don’t want a damn drink! I want Julie back. You’re her fiancé. What are you doing to help her?”
“Like I said, I’ve considered it, and I think we need to hire someone.” Robert cleared his throat.
“If you could extend me another ten thousand—”
“I gave you the ransom money. I thought you’d pay it and we’d have her home by now, where she belongs.”
“That’s what I’m trying to make happen.”
“No, it’s too risky. Someone will call and you’ll give them the cash and Julie will be fine.”
“I don’t know, Drew…”
“I have to go.” Something toppled, maybe a chair. “I have to do something to help her.”
“Drew, wait! You can’t go to the police—”
“No, no I won’t. And don’t you either. Just stay by that damned phone and call me the minute you hear. Do you understand me, Robert?”
“Yes,” Robert said wearily. “I understand.”
A door slammed, more crystal clinked, and then Robert sighed.
A tiny beep indicated a break in the time frame. The next sound was a ringing phone, and then Robert’s weary voice. “Robert Burns.”
“You motherfucker.”
Clint sat up a little straighter. Both Mojo and Red leaned forward.
The wheezing of Robert’s breath was the only sound.
“Don’t you dare pass out on me, Robert. You need to hear every goddamned word I have to say to you.”
“Who is this?” Robert demanded.
“What the fuck did you do?”
“I…I don’t know what you mean.”
“The hell you don’t. You were supposed to send the money in exchange for the bitch. But you didn’t follow the rules, did you? Instead, you sent some fucking maniac to kill all of us, didn’t you? Didn’t you, Robert? Only I’m alive. Alive and very pissed off.”
“Jesus.”
“Praying’s not gonna do you no good. He took the woman, Robert, do you hear me? He took her, and now I have jack shit. No woman and no money. But don’t think that’ll save your ass. I kept my word.”
“Your word?” Gaining some backbone, Robert said, “You’re a kidnapper! Your word means nothing.”
“I did what I was paid to do.” There was a moment of throbbing silence, then the caller, in a more collected tone, growled, “And you, you jackass, were supposed to pay me for her safe return.”
“How did I know you wouldn’t kill her once you got the money?”
“Start worrying about your own ass, Robert, because I’m coming after you. And you fucking well better have my money when I get there.”
The line went dead, and Robert let out an agonized groan. “Ohmigod. Think, think…” He continued to mutter to himself for a few moments, then the office door opened and closed, and the recording ended.
Clint waited, but when the line remained dead, he turned off the phone, dialed in a few numbers to set it to record again, and got up to put the phone away.
He didn’t want to look at Julie, but he couldn’t stop himself. As if she’d only been waiting for his attention, she stared right at him, her eyes enormous and bruised.
“Julie Rose—”
She lurched awkwardly to her feet. “I have to call Uncle Drew.”
Shaking his head, Clint blocked the phone. “No.”
She tried to step around him, but stumbled on her hurt ankle and gasped in pain. Clint caught her up against his chest. And damn, it felt good to hold her again. He’d been cold without her.
Not on the outside, but on the inside.
Her hands clutched his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin. “I have to call him, Clint. Please. You heard him. He’s afraid and worried sick. It’s cruel—”
“Shh.” Clint stroked her hair and in the process loosened the offensive, old-biddy bun. “Listen to me, baby.” He forgot that Mojo and Red were interested observers. He forgot everything he’d just told himself about keeping his distance.
“Please…”
He couldn’t bear to hear her beg. “We don’t yet know what’s going on. And until we do, you can’t talk to anyone.”
“But…”
Clint pressed a finger to her lips. “You heard him, Julie Rose. Someone hired those bastards to take you. Maybe Robert’s innocent, but maybe he’s not. Until I know for sure, I’m not trusting anyone.”
In a whisper, she said, “I can’t bear it.”
Clint held her closer, pressing his mouth to her forehead. “I know it’s rough, babe. But look at it this way. Robert asked me to keep you, right? He had to have a reason for that.”
“He wants you to keep me safe until he can find out who took me.”
“Maybe. But what if he set the whole thing up? If Drew finds out that Robert hired me, it could put him in danger.”
The motel room door opened and closed, and Clint looked up to see that his friends had gone out, giving him some privacy. And damn them both, they knew that privacy was the last thing he wanted right now.
He could feel Julie Rose shaking and scooped her up to set her on the bed. “Stay off that ankle while I clean up real quick. Then we’ll get on the road.”
Staring down at her hands, she whispered, “I hate this.”
Clint actually felt his heart hurting. “I know.” He saw her squeeze her eyes shut, and then she lifted her face, her expression once again impassive.
Somehow, that hurt him even more.
Backbone straight, she asked, “What are we going to do?”
Damn, but she was a trouper. “We need to head out. The longer we stay in one place, the riskier it is.” He leveled a look on her, trying to make her understand, hoping to alleviate some of her guilt. “I know it’s not easy, and believe me, we’ll tell your uncle everything as soon as we can. But until then, you’re going to have to trust me.”
Julie stared at him, unflinching, her eyes big and dark and accepting. “You really do have a problem paying attention, don’t you?”
Clint leaned against the bathroom door frame. “How’s that?”
She pushed to her feet and hobbled to the door. When she opened it, Clint saw Mojo and Red lounging there, waiting for them. “I already trust you, Clint Evans.” She stepped out into the sunshine. “More than anyone I’ve ever known.”
Robert felt ill. A sleepless night had brought no answers. Soon, Julie would return home—he couldn’t expect to keep her away forever. Then Drew would want his money back, leaving Robert between a rock and a hard place. The kidnapper would come after him, but he wouldn’t be the only one.
Somehow, his problems were piling up, higher and higher until they seemed insurmountable. If he didn’t start setting things right, and soon, he’d lose Marie forever. He’d lose everything.
He’d start with his most immediate threat. Asa.
Driven by new determination, Robert ran up the stairs to his bedroom, moved the heavy framed painting to the floor, and opened the wall safe. The thick envelope holding the money Drew had given him to pay Julie’s ransom was right where he’d left it. He’d hoped to keep it all for himself, but Clint had failed to kill Asa, damn him.
Once again, Robert had no choice.
Opening the envelope, he counted out half the bills—a sizeable amount, but not enough. Not enough to save Julie, not enough to save him.
But maybe, just maybe it’d buy him some time.
He stuck the folded bills inside his suit coat and grabbed the keys to his Jaguar off the top of the mahogany armoire. His mind buzzed with problems and probable solutions as he hurried to the garage. With the push of a button, the garage door rose, flooding the enormous, dim interior with sunlight that glinted off the silver hood of his car, nearly blinding him.
He unlocked the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel. He had just put the key in the ignition when a young man, dark and menacing, strode into the garage wearing a smile. While Robert sat mute with fear, the man opened the passenger door and seated himself.
“Drive.”
Robert swallowed down his terror. The inevitable had happened. He only hoped he had enough money to put off his own death. “I was going to see Asa.”
“Yeah? Well, how about I ride along, to make certain you get there safe and sound?”
Knowing he had no choice, Robert didn’t object. “Where to?”
“You know the Road Kill Saloon?”
Robert’s head throbbed. “It’s down by the river.”
“Yeah.” And with an evil grin, “Asa will see you there.”
Knowing what would happen, Robert whispered, “I don’t have all the money yet.”
“Your problem, buddy, not mine. Now drive. Asa doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
It took twenty minutes to reach the disreputable saloon. With each mile that drew them nearer, Robert’s uneasiness grew. He remembered Clint Evans, his unnatural calm, his forbidding confidence. If only he had a little of that man’s ability. But he hadn’t been raised as a thug. He was an educated man, genteel, polite, suave.
Even with the air conditioner on, sweat dampened Robert’s back and chest and palms. His hands felt slippery on the steering wheel. He couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs. Marie, I’m sorry.
“Park right there, next to that truck.”
Robert knew his fear was palpable, and he also knew the young man beside him enjoyed witnessing it. He turned off the engine, sat only a moment, then opened his door. Hot air, tainted with the stench of poverty and sour liquor, poured in, suffocating him all the more.
As they crossed the lot into the dank interior of the all-night, all-day bar, Robert fought to maintain a steady gait, to appear indifferent to the situation, rather than terrified.
Asa wasn’t in the front of the saloon, but then, he wouldn’t be. You couldn’t kill a man with a half dozen witnesses, never mind that they were all so boozed up they probably didn’t remember their own names.
He followed behind Asa’s man, across the room and through a warped wooden door half covered with peeling paint. A steep stairwell led to a cellar, lit only by one bare bulb.
Going down that stairway to hell, something strange happened to Robert.
His fear melted away.
His nervousness got replaced with indignation.
One mistake. One miserable, measly mistake he’d made, and he was supposed to pay for it with his future? No, by God.
Not anymore.
When he reached a closed door, Robert waited. Asa’s man stepped around him, pushed the door open, and motioned for him to go inside.
As was usually the case with Asa, his immediate surroundings had been improved to the point of absurdity in the rest of the squalor. Fluorescent lighting made the room bright, showcasing the heavy leather furniture, cheery paint, and plush carpeting.
Asa himself sat in a big easy chair, smoking a cigar and watching some sporting event on a large-screen TV.
“Robert. What a wonderful surprise.”
At the sound of that coarse voice, disdain filled Robert, but he merely nodded. “Asa.” He started to reach inside his suit coat for the money, and the cold prod of a gun barrel jabbed into his spine.
Slowly, Robert withdrew his hands and raised them. “I have money for you. Inside my jacket.”
Asa nodded to the man who’d ridden with Robert. “Take his money, Davy. But don’t shoot him. Yet.” He smiled at Robert.
Sick to death of the games, Robert smiled back.
That surprised Asa, as Robert had intended. If he could keep him off guard, maybe he could maneuver into the unexpected. “I don’t have it all. Not yet.”
“A pity,” Asa said, while counting the money.
“Where’s the rest?”
“I’m working on it.”
“How long?”
Robert shrugged. “A few weeks. Two, maybe three, tops.” By then he’d have Julie back, and perhaps he could extort more cash from Drew in the guise of comforting her.
Asa’s eyes widened, then he threw back his head and laughed and laughed. “Weeks? You think you have weeks?”
Knowing he didn’t, Robert simply shrugged again. “There’s no point in lying to you. If I could get it sooner than that, I would. But there haven’t been any big deals.”
All signs of humor disappeared from Asa’s face. “I had a deal, until you fucked it up.”
“I told you I’m sorry about that.”
“And I told you, I want what you cost me. You told me you could recoup that money within days. That was many, many days ago.”
“I have no excuses, at least none that you’d care to hear.” He’d invested every dime he had in his plans to extricate himself from Drew’s control, so he and Marie could start new somewhere else. “I’ve done all I can.” What an understatement. “But most of my money is tied up.”
“You better untie it, eh?”
“I’m working on it.” If he made too many financial moves, he had no doubt Drew would hear of it. Julie’s uncle was a suspicious sort, as well as an exceptional businessman. He’d cut Robert out in a heartbeat if he thought he wasn’t suitable for Julie. But Robert could hardly convince Marie to leave her brother if he was penniless, with no way to support her.
Robert was counting on Drew for the money. Drew owed him, whether he realized it or not. He just had to keep juggling the balls in the air long enough to let everything play out.
While staring at Robert as if in deep thought, Asa thumbed through the money again and again. Finally he smiled. “I’ll give you one more week.”
Robert still held his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“But just so you don’t forget about me…” He nodded to Davy, who turned to Robert with a large, anticipatory grin. Yes, the man enjoyed hurting people. And he’d enjoy Robert now.
A massive fist smashed Robert’s face. He managed to turn a little to the side so that the blow hit his temple and cheekbone, rather than his nose.
Pain exploded, and Robert would have dropped to his knees except that Davy held him up by his dress shirt and tie, nearly strangling him. Another blow landed in his gut, then on his chin. Robert tasted his own blood, but still, the fear was gone.
Two more strikes, and Davy let him fall, but he wasn’t finished. No, he used his feet, kicking, stomping, until finally, after what seemed an eternity, Asa called a halt.
Robert couldn’t move. He couldn’t even moan.
No one looked up from their drinks as Davy dragged him back through the saloon and outside, where he deposited him in his car. Strangely enough, Robert’s thoughts were on the blood and how it might ruin his fine leather seats. He had to laugh at that. Maybe the stress had caused him to lose his mind.
Or maybe, just maybe, he was finally toughening up a bit.