Chapter 9
9
N ikki needed to find a way out of the SUV with its blacked-out windowsso she could go tothe jail. The thought of Conrad locked behind bars caused a knot to form in her stomach. It was her fault, too. Heath had overstepped his bounds with the reward. She needed to find a way to fix this.
The same three assholes who’d located them on Sturgess property were watching over Nikki to ensure she made it home. This wasn’t exactly kidnapping, but she was being held against her will. The problem? Her stepfather was responsible. If she tried to alert law enforcement to her present predicament, she would bring trouble to the one person who’d stuck up for her consistently in the past. She loved Heath. He’d been a father figure when Harrison had ducked out on the family. He was the only man who’d stayed.
And he was doing what he thought would protect her. Heath was wrong. She didn’t need protection from Conrad. But her stepfather wasn’t in the vehicle, and she didn’t have a phone to use, or she’d call him to straighten this out.
The Three Stooges kept her from moving. One sat on either side of her in the backseat while the third drove.
“I have to use the restroom,” she said. How these men had found them was beyond her. They’d been trespassing on private property. Could she do anything with that information?
Like what?
That was a dead end. She needed to think. She’d been on the road for a solid hour moving away from the one person who could help her. The farther away she got, the bigger the ache in her chest.
She needed answers regarding her father’s murder. Those were disappearing in the rearview along with the town sign: Saddle Junction.
Her hands and feet were free. Curly, sitting next to her, had a weapon within reach. Could she make a move for it?
Academics had been her thing, not athletics. The hours-long walk, followed by trying to outrun bullets, had zapped her energy. Lack of sleep wasn’t helping matters. Plus, she was already running on a half-empty tank after midterms.
“Heath is going to get an earful about the three of you,” she said out of impotent anger. She sounded like a frustrated teenager being punished for sneaking out or breaking curfew.
Moe and Curly laughed. Jep sneered at her through the rearview.
“What you’re doing is illegal,” she said. “I’ll have all three of you arrested. You’ll go to jail for abduction. That’s a serious offense, in case you asshats haven’t figured out that’s illegal.” They responded with more laughing, which fired her up even more. “Plus, I have no idea what your real intentions are. Human trafficking is being cracked down on, especially in a state like Texas. Do you really want that to go on your record?”
“Mr. Alastor would never let that happen to us,” Jep said, but he didn’t sound completely convinced. Could she work with that? Find an angle? Pick at it until one of them questioned whether or not this was still a good idea?
“I’m twenty-six years old,” she said with disdain. “I decide if I’m being abducted. My stepfather has nothing to do with it.” At this rate, however, he’d answered her question about whether she should take his last name. Absolutely not. For better or worse, she was a Guidry. Besides, maybe she could add respect to the last name. Her father might have made a fortune for himself working alongside Beaumont Sturgess, but he’d tarnished his own reputation by taking care of “things” for his employer. She would rather die than cower to a rich man. Plus, her father had money of his own. Hold on a minute. Maybe that was it. Maybe the Three Stooges could be bought for a higher price. “Whatever my stepfather is paying you, I’ll double it.”
“What kind of shit are you trying to pull?” Jep asked, shooting a warning look to the others via the rearview.
“I’m a businesswoman,” she said. “This is a business transaction, is it not?”
Jep nodded, but suspicion stamped his expression. “Our business is with Mr. Alastor, not you, little miss.”
Little miss? The term was fingernails on a chalkboard. These non-evolved creatures had to have a chink, something she could exploit.
“Fine, then,” she said, folding her arms. “Jail, it is.” She gave a self-satisfied smirk that she didn’t feel. Fake it ’til you make it. “But you won’t be able to spend any of the money there. And the feds will get involved because I’ll claim human trafficking, which means they’ll freeze your bank accounts. They’ll ransack your homes in case you hide money there. I guarantee you won’t make a dime from abducting me.”
“My ma,” Curly muttered under his breath, sounding rattled.
Everyone had a mother, or they wouldn’t be in this world, but it struck her as odd these grown-ass criminals not only had them but cared about them, too. People caught her off guard all the time, and this was no exception.
“You aren’t going to be any good to her when you’re locked behind bars and broke,” Nikki said under her breath, loud enough for Curly to hear.
“Don’t listen to this bitch,” Jep said. He spoke with the authority of a ringleader. All three had pot bellies and solid arms. All three had sunburned skin. All three looked to be in their early to mid-thirties. Did they work for her stepfather in his construction business? Could she use that angle?
“Even if you do somehow skate without going to jail, everyone in construction will blacklist you,” she continued. “Good luck getting work after this. Your careers will be ruined. You’ll have no way to earn a living. I’ll say you hurt me.” She held up an arm. “I’ll say these bruises came from you.” They might have a clue as to how overprotective Heath could be.
Curly squirmed. Moe, the one on her other side, kept his mouth clamped shut. Keep working on Curly.
Jep was shooting darts from his eyes every chance he had to look into the rearview, warning the others to keep their cool or face consequences.
“Do you have kids?” she asked. “Do you know what it’s like to hear that someone hurt your little girl?”
More squirming on Curly’s end. A quick glance at him revealed the light beads of sweat forming on his forehead. It was a long drive back to Austin. She could work on him the entire time.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said again.
“No way,” Jep responded.
“She has to go,” Curly said. “What’s so wrong with pulling over at the next gas station?”
“She’ll yell for help,” Jep said, not giving away any names.
Could she get Curly to crack? Offer up one of their names?
This time, she squirmed. “If you don’t stop, I’ll pee on the seat. Is that what you want—for these two men to sit in a puddle for the rest of the ride?”
Moe scooched over toward the door. Could she reach over him and open it? No. She remembered hearing the doors lock. Safety features on most vehicles made it impossible to open a door while the engine was running. Plus, they might have the kid lock on the ones serving the backseat. She didn’t want to give away her intention until she had to.
“I won’t scream for help,” she said. “How about that?”
Jep took the next highway exit onto the service road. Then, he put his emergency blinkers on as he pulled onto the shoulder. “Go with her.”
Curly opened the door and exited first. “Come on, and don’t do anything that’ll make me regret helping you.”
She was about to not only burn a bridge but set the whole town on fire.
“Fine,” she said to him as she walked past. Bales of hay dotted the open field. A ranch house sat a football field’s length away. Could she get enough of a head start to make it to the house before being caught?
Nikki was about to find out.
“Stay the hell away from my daughter,” Heath said through gritted teeth.
Conrad turned to shout for the guard, but he hadn’t returned to the area yet. With his hands cuffed to the table, there wasn’t a whole helluva lot he could do to escape.
Heath walked around the room, positioning himself behind Conrad. The next thing Conrad knew, an arm came around his neck to choke him. Conrad ducked, dropping down to his knees to avoid Heath’s grip. In the process, he managed to kick his chair back. The metal foldup did very little to slow Heath down, buying a few seconds at best.
“The guard is coming back,” Conrad managed to say as he swung a foot around to trip Heath. The man stumbled a step, caught his balance, and then threw a punch that caused Conrad’s head to snap to the side. The fist landed on his cheekbone, which felt like a grenade exploded on his face. He bit out a curse as his attacker grabbed a fistful of hair on the back of Conrad’s head, then slammed him against the metal table. Just before impact, Conrad managed to sweep Heath’s feet out from underneath him, causing the middle-aged man to fall backwards. He took a couple of steps but couldn’t regain his balance. He flew against the back wall with a loud crack.
Conrad shot up to his feet, half hunched over due to the handcuffs chaining him to the table’s leg that had been anchored into the flooring. “Guard!” He repeated the chant a couple more times.
Heath got to his feet before walking around the table to the opposite side. The man was asstrong as an ox. Nikki had said her stepfather owned a construction business. From the looks of it, he still knew how to swing a hammer.
“You stay away from her,” the older man said through sharp breaths.
“Or what?” Conrad shouldn’t bait Heath. The man had already proved that he wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch while Conrad was at a disadvantage. “She’s a grown woman, capable of making the decision for herself.”
“I’ll press charges if you so much as step within ten feet of Nikki,” Heath spit out as the jailer returned.
“What the hell is going on?” the jailer asked, glancing around the room, taking in the scene.
“Nothing,” Heath said. “Mr. Sturgess slipped off his chair, and I tried to retrieve it for him. Got too close.”
“Liar,” Conrad said. “This man assaulted me.”
Heath shot a go-to-hell look as the jailer admonished Conrad. The smug look on the man’s face said there was no way a jailer would believe a man accused of murder over an upstanding citizen. “My lawyer will be in contact.”
With that, Heath walked out the door. His freedom caused Conrad’s hands to ball into fists. He forced them to relax when he realized he was digging a bigger hole.
“What happened to your face?” the jailer asked.
“Accident,” Conrad said, realizing it would do no good to tell the truth.
“Make sure it doesn’t happen again, or I’ll have to file an incident report,” the jailer said.
While being walked back to the holding cell, the jailer received a call. “Against the wall,” he said to Conrad.
He complied, not eager to have any more “accidents” while in jail. His history of violence played against him even though he’d been in the right in Colorado. People like Heath burned Conrad to the core. They thought they could get away with anything, and they were right. Throw a little money at a re-election campaign, and the favors started pouring in. He’d grown up witnessing Beaumont use his considerable wealth to get his way or gain favor with politicians.
The unfairness of it galled him to no end.
Standing up for what was rightand defending someone helpless didn’t always make him popular, but he’d make the same choice every time. However, a murder charge wasn’t something to take lightly, despite his innocence. Some folks knew how to stack the deck against honest people.
“Okay, I’ll bring him right now,” the jailer said into the phone. “Happy to get rid of this one.” The jailer ended the call and turned his attention to Conrad. “It’s your lucky day. You’re going home with a new piece of jewelry.”
The “jewelry” being talked about was an electronic tag that would be fitted on his ankle. It was a GPS device that would track his every move.
At least he had his freedom. For now.
Was there any way to get a message to Nikki? He’d tossed her cell in the field. Law enforcement would have both of their phones by now. She didn’t have a phone, and he didn’t have her number if she did.
The thought of going back to the ranch, cut off from the world, from her, caused the ache in his chest to double in size. Another thought struck. Would Heath force her to go home? Or would she be waiting at the ranch?
Her vehicle might still be there. Would she come back for it? Conrad could talk to her then.
No. He shook his head as he was led down the hallway. Heath wouldn’t allow her back on Sturgess property. Could Conrad ask one of his siblings to contact her?
No. He couldn’t get anyone else involved. Not after the stunt Heath had just pulled. His siblings had been through enough recently without him adding to their problems. Could he get a message to her on social media?
No. The law would be watching her account, and possibly Heath, too. Overprotective didn’t begin to describe Heath Alastor. The man was obsessive about making sure nothing happened to Nikki.
Conrad had an idea that might work for getting a message to her. He had to try.