Cherise Sinclair - Breaking Free

He shoved the door open. A yank on the string turned on the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Quite a dump. A faded couch sat across from the door. To the right, an ancient mattress lay on the floor in one corner and a wood stove with a chipped brick hearth occupied the other. On his left was the gourmet kitchen: an avocado-colored refrigerator, a dirt-encrusted stove, and a chipped enamel sink. He sneered and winced as pain lanced across his face.

Touching his nose gently, he winced. One lucky punch and she’d almost broken his nose. Damn her.

He glanced down at his bloodstained shirt. At least he had a change of clothes in his carry-on. Along with a nice set of tools he’d bought in Tampa. Turning, he smiled at the ugly room.

The cabin was isolated and big enough to swing a whip. What more could a man want?

Nolan pulled his truck into the parking space next to Beth’s. The relief of seeing her truck and trailer let him take his first decent breath since he’d listened to her message. He wasn’t too late.

Stepping out of his truck, he noticed two suitcases wedged between the mower and brush cutter in her trailer. So she had been serious about running. Dammit. He stalked toward her apartment then slowed. Little rabbits frightened easily; he’d need to go easy. Not roll right over her with…

Her door was ajar.

He nudged it open with his foot. “Beth?” An edgy feeling crawled up his spine and raised the hair on his scalp. Over the last year in Iraq, his instincts had become as fine-tuned as when he’d been slitting throats for the CIA. Head up, body tensed, he reached down and drew the knife from his boot sheath.

Remaining in the doorway, he scrutinized the one-room apartment. Totally silent. Boxes on the stripped bed. Curtains still drawn and lights on. Pots and pans stacked on the counter. A canvas bag on the small kitchen table, cell phone beside it.

Dark spots just inside the door on the beige carpet. He bent, touched one lightly. Wet. Red. He sniffed. Blood.

“Wake up, darling. Time to play.”

Beth heard the voice, her mind moving like sludge, still thick with nightmare images. She didn’t like that voice and couldn’t remember why, but the sound made something inside her wail in terror.

If the voice wanted her to wake up, then she wouldn’t.

She let her breathing stay long and slow, kept her body limp, and her eyes closed. She fought to stay awake, and lost the battle. But something was very wrong…

“What happened?” Frowning, Z walked into Beth’s apartment. “And give me more than ‘ Beth’s been grabbed .’”

Seated at the kitchen table, Nolan glanced up, a moment’s relief running through him. Reinforcements. “Got a message telling me goodbye, said she was leaving because her husband-the bastard who gave her those scars and who she escaped from-found out she was in Tampa.” He smothered a growl. “When I got here, the door was open. Car and trailer in the lot. Purse, cell phone here on the table. Blood there.” He nodded at the stain on the carpet.

Z touched the blood. “Still wet.” He glanced around. “This looks bad.”

“Yeah. How the hell do we find her?” Nolan scrubbed his face with his hands. “I don’t even know where she came from or where her husband lives.”

“California,” Z said. “She let that drop one day.”

“That helps. To get back there, he’ll have to drive or fly. Either way, he’ll probably use his credit card.”

“Do you know her husband’s name?” Z walked around the cabin, checked the chest of drawers.

“She said Kyler on the message. But she’s smart. She’d have changed her last name.” Nolan tapped his finger on the table and then grabbed the cell phone lying on the table. “Somebody else might know the bastard’s name though.” He found the phone’s contact list and arrowed through the entries. “ Mom . That’s promising.”

A minute later, he had a hysterical woman screaming in his ear. “Ma’am, please. We’re looking for her. I need to know her husband’s name. His legal name.” He pushed the button for the speaker phone.

“Kyler Stanton. It’s Kyler Stanton. Please, he’s a horrible man. He’ll kill her.” The woman was crying so violently, she choked.

“Listen to me,” Nolan ordered, knowing just how she felt. Damned if he didn’t want to put his fist through the wall. “Your daughter is important to me, and I will find her. Can you trust me to do that?”

Her sobs slowed. “What is your name?”

“Nolan. I’ll call you when we find her.” He flipped the phone shut.

Z was already on his cell phone. “This is Zach. I need to know any credit card activity for a Kyler Stanton. Especially in the last day or so and especially in Florida. I’ll explain later, but I need it stat.” He listened, and then snapped, “I’ll wait.”

Nolan raised his eyebrows.

Z gave him a faint smile. “Give Dan a call. But my ex-military, old-boy system might be more efficient than the cops.”

Nolan paced across the apartment. Stopped and looked down at the blood stains. His gut twisted. “They’d better work fast.”

A brutal hand struck Beth’s face, and her eyes snapped open.

“Ha! I knew you were faking.” Kyler’s blue eyes gleamed. “You’ll pay for that, Elizabeth.”

Kyler. No nightmare. Her breathing increased so quickly that the world started to blur. Breathe, sugar . The memory of the deep voice anchored her. Nolan would never panic. She forced herself to inhale slowly and looked around.

She lay on a filthy mattress on the floor. Kyler stood over her, smirking, and the hate that blasted through her at the sight of him cleared her head. His nose was puffy, discolored, and she felt a rush of satisfaction. She’d hurt him. She tried to keep from showing her satisfaction. And failed.

“Yes, you bitch. You managed to hit me. Once.” Mouth thinned in a line, he slapped her again. She lifted her hands to fight back, only to see handcuffs on her wrists. The metal cuffs were hooked to a chain dangling from the cabin ridgepole. He’d cuffed her ankles together too. Terror burst inside her, and she screamed over and over until Kyler’s enjoyment registered. She stopped, her chest heaving, and closed her hands to hide the trembling.

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed hearing you, my dear.” He ran his hand over his groin. “Look at that. Already hard as a rock.” He paced across the room.

They were in a cabin, she realized. A tiny one-room cabin. Rain thundered against a metal roof. “Where are we?” she managed to ask, her tongue dry and thick.

“In the country where the only things listening will be the alligators and herons.”

“Someone will hear.” She didn’t sound convincing, even to herself. “There are hunters everywhere. You’ll get caught.”

He turned to show her a cheap pistol tucked into his slacks. “Don’t worry your pretty brain, my dear. I did take precautions. It’s amazing what a person can obtain with a little money. Buying a weapon in Florida is even easier than in California.”

Her heart sank.

“I never imagined you’d run so far.” He smiled, stroking himself through his tailored slacks. “I almost gave up on finding you. I tried going to prostitutes, but they didn’t excite me like you do, no matter what I did to them. I crippled one so badly I doubt she lived. She screamed, nice and high, but she wasn’t you.” His eyes held a weird light, a wrong light.

Beth’s stomach turned over. He was completely insane.

“I need you, Elizabeth. Just you.”