Sophie Oak - Pure Bliss

“Goddamn it.” James’s voice rang through the house.

Hope sighed and opened the door to the bedroom. She hoped James and Noah weren’t fighting again. She would have to get some advice from Rachel on how to handle them when they started acting like five-year-olds.

“We need to start barring the gates at night. That’s a nice car, though.” Noah stood at the front window, his brother at his side.

“It’s a dumb car for the mountains.” James peered out the window and then whistled. “Whoa. Is that really what I think it is?”

Noah’s voice was hushed and reverent. “1969 Camaro.”

“Holy crap. That’s a beauty. Z28. You know the horsepower that has?”

Hope looked out the window, too. “It’s a car.”

Both of her men turned at her like she’d said something utterly sacrilegious.

“That is a classic muscle car,” Noah explained. “It’s eight cylinders of pure power.”

Hope wasn’t impressed. She bet it didn’t even have a CD player. Even her little piece of crap had a CD player.

The Camaro charged up the road, churning dust behind it. It stopped at the long, circular drive, and the door opened. Out of the passenger side, Cade Sinclair unfurled his long, lean body, his eyes covered with mirrored aviators. Jesse McCann got out of the driver’s side and said something to his partner that made them both smile.

“See, that just ruins everything,” James said, frowning.

“Now it’s a douchebag car,” Noah agreed.

Hope sighed. “I’m sure they’re here to give me an update on my car. Will you give them a break?”

Noah held up her small cell phone. “They could have called. Phones work here, too.”

“Not always,” James allowed. “Well, hell, let’s get this over with.”

Hope grabbed her phone and shoved it in her jeans. She could smell coffee. God, she needed coffee. She took another look at the two gorgeous mechanics walking up to the porch. Cade and Jesse were hot as hell, but James and Noah had ruined her. She sighed as she heard the door open and the men begin to speak. She decided she didn’t want in on that conversation. They would talk cars and parts, and if she was there, they might do that chest-thumping gorilla thing, and she really needed some caffeine.

She pushed through the doors to the kitchen and found it already occupied. Two cowboys stood in the middle of the room. Tall and muscular, both wore boots and jeans and Western shirts.

“Morning, ma’am,” the taller one said politely.

She smiled and nodded their way. It was odd. The man sounded Southern. She’d gotten used to flat, Western accents, but this man’s slow speech made her think of home.

“Good morning.” She would have to get used to ranch hands being all over the place.

Her cell phone rang. Hope pulled it out of her jeans and looked down. Lucy. Damn it . She hadn’t talked to Lucy in days, hadn’t explained why she’d missed their dinner plans nights before. She was sure that someone had filled Lucy in on what was going on, but it wasn’t fair to her friend to not hear it from Hope’s own mouth. She slid the bar to answer the phone and stepped away from the cowboys.

“Lucy, sweetie, I am so sorry I didn’t call. Things have been crazy here.”

“Have they, love?”

Hope froze in the middle of the kitchen, her heart threatening to stop.

That voice. The one that haunted her nightmares. Christian.

She started out the door, ready to call out to Noah and James, but a large hand stopped her.

“Don’t you think you should talk to your husband, Mrs. Grady?” The tall cowboy looked down on her with black eyes. “If you call out to those men, I’m afraid Brad and I will be forced to start shooting. Talk to the boss.”

Her hand trembled. Christian had men on the Circle G? She supposed it would be easy. James had been desperate for new hands and hadn’t had luck finding them. The minute Christian knew where she would be, he would have sent his own men in just for this occasion. Christian always had a plan.

But she couldn’t risk Noah and James. She could hear them talking to the mechanics. If she so much as called out their names, they would rush in and be facing two guns.

“Hello, Christian. Why do you have Lucy’s phone?” Hope asked, nausea churning in her gut. He was alive. She’d recognized the very viable possibility, but now the truth hit her squarely, and she was reeling from it. Christian was alive, and he was after her.

“I have Lucy’s phone because I have Lucy, dear. Talk to your friend.” There was a moment of quiet, and then Christian growled. “You talk to your fucking friend, bitch.”

A feminine voice moaned and shrieked in pain. Hope’s eyes teared up. “Lucy?”

“I’m sorry, Hope.” Lucy’s voice came over the line, the sound fragile and tortured.

He had Lucy, and Hope knew what Christian could do to a woman. “Let her go, Christian.”

“I will as soon as I have what I really want.” His voice had gone silky and smooth the way it did when he knew he had the upper hand. “As soon as you allow Jay to bring you out here to me, I will release Lucy.”

She just bet he would, but what choice did she have? Lucy was utterly innocent. Lucy was twenty-five years old, and she’d spent most of her life taking care of her eight siblings in a single-wide trailer. This was the first time Lucy had been able to be on her own, and she was so excited about it. Lucy had sacrificed, and this should be her time to have fun, not to pay for Hope’s mistakes.

“Do you honestly believe I won’t kill her?” Christian asked. “I suspect you watched me eliminate dear Elaine. She’d outlived her usefulness.” His voice went low, cajoling. “She was trying to come between us, love. You know I couldn’t allow that.”

“You killed her.”

He sighed. “I rather thought that was what made you run. Darling, you shouldn’t have had to see that. You know men are just beasts. But I’m gentle with you. Always, because you deserve it. Unless you’ve been doing something you shouldn’t. We’re going to talk about those men, Hope. Do you understand me?”

She understood him far too well. He wouldn’t like the fact that she wasn’t his pure little angel anymore. She also wasn’t going to walk to him like a lamb led to slaughter. She moved toward the sideboard. Someone, most likely Beth McNamara, had set a lovely spread. There was a fruit tray that included apples and oranges and a single, small paring knife. It wasn’t much, but she would take it.

The kitchen door banged open, and Hope nearly dropped the phone.

James stood in the doorway, an impatient look on his face. “Baby, do you want to come talk to these douchebags? They have an outrageous quote on fixing your car. You’re really better off just letting me and Noah find you a new one.”

She took a deep breath, remembering that the two men with her were armed and ready to shoot. “That sounds fine, James.”

“Who are you talking to?” James looked down at her phone.

“Lucy,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just catching up on gossip.”

He nodded and then turned to the hands. “Shouldn’t you two be out in the east pasture with Trev?”

The one named Brad nodded, but both men were staring at James. Hope reached out and palmed the small knife, wishing she had better access to the larger ones. While Christian’s men replied to James, she slid the knife into her pocket and put the phone back to her ear.

“Lucy, I’ll see you in a bit. I have to go. I have a couple of things I need to get done this morning.”

“Yes, you do.” Christian’s voice was all threat now. “And, love, if you bring one of those men with you, I won’t hesitate to kill him.”