by Sophie Oak
“Get out of the car, Hope. If you want to go into the station, you go in with your men, not the law.” Noah opened her door. “That way this guy knows you’re protected.”
“Please, go.” She didn’t want to beg, but it was better than them hearing her story. She might walk in with them, but there was no way she would walk out with them. They would leave once they heard her story.
“Not a chance, baby. Cam’s a big boy. He can take one for the team if he has to. It’s your choice.” James pulled the shotgun up, getting Cam squarely in his sights.
“Oh, you’re going to pay for that, Glen. The next bar fight we have, I won’t hold back. Your ass is mine.” Cam swore revenge with a smile on his face, obviously not terribly worried that James would actually shoot.
Hope shook her head. She’d steeled herself. She wasn’t backing away now. “I have to go with Cam. I have to see him. I have to know it’s him.”
She couldn’t stay in this odd limbo of not knowing. She couldn’t handle it. She’d fooled herself for weeks, but now she had to be sure. She had to know if he’d caught her. She had to know if it was time to fight.
Noah looked at his brother, and they appeared to have an entire conversation via facial tics and short, sharp hand gestures. Finally, Noah unsnapped her seat belt and took her in hand. “You’re coming with us, darlin’.”
“No,” Hope protested even as her arms went around his neck. He hauled her close to his chest. She felt better than she had in an hour, feeling his warmth and strength around her, but she knew it was a lie.
“You keep quiet or I will spank that sweet ass right here on Main Street, and they won’t do a damn thing to save you.” James pointed up the road.
Hope turned her head and saw what he was referencing.
A mob stood outside the sheriff’s office. Hope checked the sob that caught in her throat. Max and Rye stood there with Rachel. Callie and Zane were holding hands, each with a stroller in front of them. Stef was showing Jen how to load a shotgun. She knew Rafe and Laura were inside. Alexei and Holly and Caleb were talking to Nell and Mel and Cassie. Stella had a pitcher in her hand, handing out drinks as her husband, Sebastian, gave everyone a glass. Teeny, Logan’s mom, followed behind with a plate of what looked to be fudge. Teeny firmly believed that fudge was required at all tragic events. Marie, her partner, her wife, stood behind, shotgun in hand. Lucy, sweet Lucy, turned her head and saw the Bronco had stopped. Bliss had come out to protect its own—her.
Tears streamed. Twenty-seven years she’d longed for a family only to find one in the backwoods of Colorado.
She was going to let them all down.
But Noah wasn’t allowing her to go. He leaned close. “It’s going to be all right. Trust us, Hope. We trust you.”
“You shouldn’t,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “I’m a deeply forgiving man.”
“I’m not,” James said with a wink. “But I think you’ll find I’m different when it comes to you. We’ll go in there with you, but then we’re taking you back to the G, and the three of us are going to talk. Noah and I aren’t going to let you run the show anymore.”
“Since when have I run anything?” Hope asked.
“Yeah, just like that,” James said. He turned back to Cam. “Sheriff, I’m just carrying this gun in case I need to go hunting. You know how it is. A man never can tell when he’s going to get hungry.”
Cam snorted. “Yeah, that seems to be going around. Every man in the county seems to be hunting today. It should send a message to this guy when he leaves the station. I think Nate already put the fear of god into him.”
“Nate’s in there?” Hope asked.
“Oh, baby, we’re going to have such a talk about Nate. You’re not going to be running to Nate anymore. You’re going to run to your men. Is that understood?” James asked. Before she could reply, he turned to Cam. “We’ll see you in a minute.”
Before she could protest, Noah hauled her back to the truck, Butch in tow. She settled between them, and James took off.
* * * *
Christian stared at the blonde. She was smiling and saying all the right things, but something was wrong. Something was wrong with all of them.
He glanced up at the clock. An hour. It had already taken that damn sheriff an hour, and he wasn’t back with Hope yet.
Yes, something was terribly wrong.
“Don’t worry,” the blonde who had introduced herself as Laura said. “Cam will find her. He thinks she’s probably on the mountain. It’s pretty remote out there, but he’ll find her.”
He kept his mouth shut when he wanted to tell the dumb bitch that she wasn’t on the mountain. She was at her lovers’ ranch. He’d gained a lot of knowledge about the ranch where his wife was staying, including the fact that she was screwing at least one, probably both, of the brothers who lived there.
But he forced his mouth closed. The deputy, a large, dark-haired man, stared at him from behind his desk. Not ten minutes before another man had walked in, apparently the actual sheriff. He’d closed himself in an office after acting Sheriff Briggs had gone in search of Hope.
There was an awful lot of activity in this sleepy little mountain sheriff’s station.
“I’m sorry,” he said, attempting to look as wistful as possible. “It’s been a long time since I saw my wife. I’ve been horribly worried about her. She can be…unstable.”
“So you’ve told me. She’s bipolar?” Laura asked.
“Yes. She’s very sweet, but when she gets into a depressive cycle, she’s terribly violent toward herself.” He wanted to work on this Laura’s obvious sympathy. If she thought Hope might harm herself, she might be more willing to easily turn her over to a man who could take care of her.
“Interesting.”
She didn’t believe him. It was there in her eyes. He could hear the sheriff in his office. He distinctly heard the words “Atlanta” and “district attorney.”
Fuck. Someone knew something. He had counted on Hope hiding her past. It seemed she’d told at least one person, and he doubted Sheriff Wright was going to come down on his side.
His paperwork wouldn’t hold up under deep scrutiny. He’d get through a few layers, but if they really dug, he would be found out. He had a couple of his men waiting to help with getting Hope out of here. One was ready to pose as a doctor, the other an orderly. He had plenty of sedatives to keep her nice and compliant.
But if these rubes wouldn’t let him out the door, he wasn’t sure what he would do.
He’d caught sight of a small mob gathering. What the hell was that about?
Nothing was going as planned.
But he wasn’t without his resources. He had other men in town. He’d placed them here after he’d discovered her whereabouts. If he couldn’t waltz out on his own, he would have to find another way.
“Laura,” Christian began, a plan coming to mind. “I have some paperwork in my car. Would you mind sending someone to get it?”
He wasn’t about to walk through that crowd. He’d already spied the back exit.
The deputy, who looked slightly uncomfortable in his khaki uniform, strode forward. “Of course.”
“It’s on the passenger seat. It’s her full psychological profile.” He’d had one invented a couple of weeks back when he’d known he was going to come after her.
He handed Deputy Kincaid the keys with what he hoped was a deeply honest smile. The deputy, who looked far too hard to have spent all of his life in a small town, took the keys. He winked at Laura and started out. He turned back. “Looks like Cam’s back. He’s having a little trouble with the boys, though. Looks like they’re coming in, too.”
He smiled back at Christian, but there was no humor to it. “Your wife is coming in. You get to meet her men. I think she’s going to want a divorce. If you’re telling the truth in the first place.”
He walked out, his feet carrying him quickly away. From behind the door to the sheriff’s office,
he could hear Sheriff Wright mention the name Grady.
Christian knew when he was fucked. He had been pulling long cons since he was twenty years old. He understood when an operation wasn’t going to fly. Hope had these people in the palm of her hand. She was going to win this particular battle. If he was going to win the war, it was time for a retreat.
Laura walked to the door, opening it and saying something to a woman standing outside. He could hear them laughing.
Christian decided it was time to be what he’d been for the last several years—a ghost.
He quietly slipped out the back and retreated to wait for a more proper time.
Chapter Fourteen
James parked the truck and decided he could probably leave the shotgun in the car. It looked like the whole damn town had come out. The only thing they were missing were torches and pitchforks.
His stomach was in knots, and yet he really wanted to get in there. He wanted to look at this guy, size him up, and figure out just how bad the situation was. Then he could pick up Hope, throw her back in the truck, take her home, and force her to tell him everything. He would get to the goddamn bottom of this, and Hope would be filing for divorce.
He slid his brother a long look. Noah was out of the truck, holding his hand out for Hope. Hope took it, but there was no masking the anxiety on her face. Her shoulders squared. He wanted to tell Noah to keep her here, that he would handle everything, but that wasn’t fair to Hope. This was her fight. He couldn’t take it from her. He’d simply make sure she survived it.
He and Noah would make damn sure.
He gave his brother a nod as Noah walked Hope toward him. Noah’s smile was grim, but he felt a deep solidarity with his brother. His brother would lay down his life for Hope.
Would he stay in Bliss?
James wasn’t sure, but he had to believe Noah had learned his lesson. He had to try.
They walked through the throng at the front of the building.
“Nate’s inside. He wouldn’t let the rest of us in, so we’re tailgating,” Max explained.
“You’re tailgating my interrogation?” Hope asked. Her lips quirked up, the first smile he’d seen on her in hours.
Zane Hollister stepped forward. “It’s not an interrogation, Hope. You know that. Nate’s making some calls. You go on in there and see if you can identify the bastard. We have to know for sure it’s him before Nate can really do anything.”
Zane knew about Hope’s trouble. That little bit of information twisted in James’s gut. He looked at Callie, and it was written all over her face. She knew, too. Whatever was happening, the Hollister-Wright clan was on the inside. Hope had trusted them.
James took a step back, allowing Hope to speak to Zane. His brother immediately moved in.
“Don’t,” Noah said, his mouth a flat line.
“Don’t what?” James asked, but he was pretty sure what his brother was going to say.
Noah kept his voice low. “Don’t you pull away from her just because someone else knows what we don’t. You can’t expect her to just open up. We have to earn that. Apparently Callie and her husbands earned Hope’s trust. We’re going to earn it by loving her and not making a fight out of this.”
Noah had always been the logical one. James felt his doubts start to ebb. His brother was right. He couldn’t expect her to tell him some deep, dark secret just because he’d fucked her once. He’d screwed up when he’d let her walk away. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
He reached out and grabbed Hope’s hand. “Come on, baby. Let’s get this over with so we can get you home.”
“James,” she started.
The girl wasn’t going to listen to reason. He pulled her close and had his lips on hers in a heartbeat. He kissed her, gently forcing her mouth open until he felt her sigh and submit. Her hands found his waist, and her tongue slid against his. He pressed her close to his body, her chest against his.
“Took you long enough, Glen,” someone shouted.
There were hoots and hollers, and someone asked if he was planning on sharing.
James decided to make his intentions plain. He dragged his mouth away from hers, pleased at the glazed look in Hope’s eyes. Noah stood behind her, his front to her back. James gently turned her around. “You know a Bliss boy always shares with his brother.”
Noah didn’t hesitate or pay a bit of attention to the catcalls. He put both hands on Hope’s backside and dragged her in, molding her lips to his. Hope stood in his arms, a sweet, soft treat.
Their woman.
“You better be glad you decided to share, James Eugene Glen.” Teeny shook her small, birdlike head his way as her life partner Marie backed her up. The pair had been like second mothers to him and Noah.
“Your momma would have spanked your bottom red for not sharing with your brother. She taught you better than that,” Marie said with a shake of her hand.
Noah finally came up for air. He hugged Hope to him. “She did indeed, Miss Marie. You’ll be happy to know that Jamie and I intend to make our parents proud. We’re going to marry Hope as soon as we figure out who this fellow is.”
“Noah,” Hope began.
His brother simply kissed her again. When she came up for air, she tried to push away.
“You can’t just kiss me every time I protest.”
Noah kissed her again.
“Damn it,” Hope managed after a moment.
James turned her around. It was his turn. He pulled her close and thrust his tongue in before another word could pass those lips.
She sighed when he finally let her go. “Fine. You’re both stubborn. I won’t deny you. I won’t pretend I don’t care. I won’t try to leave you, but just know this; I’ll let you both go when you want to go. I won’t try to hold you to your promises.”
She was scared of more than just the man in the station house. She was scared that whatever they heard would cause them to turn from her. Suspicion tried to worm its way in, but he knew Hope. He knew her deep down, and she was beautiful. If she’d done something ugly, it was because she’d had to. He felt a sudden certainty.
Whatever she told him, it wouldn’t make a difference. He controlled that. Whatever Hope told him, he would hold on to her because that’s what people in love did.
That was what his parents had done. They had clung to each other even after they passed from the earth into whatever happened next.
“It’s going to be all right, girl. You don’t believe me, but I’ll show you.” He slapped a hand on his brother’s back. “We’ll show you.”
The doors to the station opened, and Nate Wright stood there, an authoritative glare in his eyes. “Max, Rye, we have a missing man.”
Max cursed. “Did he get out the back?”
“He slipped out when Rafe went to his car, so he’s on foot.” Nate looked up and down the street. “I can’t arrest him, but I would like to know where the little fucker is. I’m talking to Atlanta PD right now, but it’s going to take time to get anything going. This was a closed case.”
James took her hand as Max and Rye stepped away from the crowd and started to strategize about how to find the man. James led her up the steps because now that he knew Hope’s husband was on the loose, he wanted to get her inside. He hustled her through the double doors. “You want to tell me what’s going on, Nate? Seems to me you know a hell of a lot about my woman.”
Nate’s eyes rolled. “Well, let me get up to speed because she’s been your woman for like an hour. She’s been my employee for a whole lot longer, and through most of that time, you stayed clear of her.”
“Well he’s not staying clear anymore. Now I can’t keep him off me,” Hope complained.
“Welcome to Bliss, sweetie. Two men means four hands on you almost all the time.” Laura patted Hope on the back. Her face went grim. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault he got away. I was anxious to see what kind of report he had on you, and I watched out the window as Rafe went out to this guy’s car. He
slipped out the back.”
“We didn’t have an armed posse guarding the back,” Rafe admitted. There was a thick file on his desk. “Well, we’ll do better next time.”
Noah stepped inside. “Who is this man?”
Hope’s eyes slid to the floor. “His name, if it’s really him, is Christian Grady, though I’m sure that wasn’t his real name.”
“Cam is going to work on finding that out,” Nate said.
“And this Christian guy is your husband?” James forced himself to ask the question in a calm tone. It didn’t matter. She was meant for him and Noah. She was the glue that would hold them together, that would move them all forward. The very fact that this man had run solidified his stance. Whoever this asshole was, he wasn’t getting close to Hope.
“Yes.” The word dripped with shame. Hope’s eyes slid to the floor.
“Not in a legal sense.” Nate stared at James and Noah. “She was seventeen. The age of consent in Georgia is eighteen. She didn’t have her mother’s consent. She lied about her age, and her husband managed to produce a fake birth certificate.”
Excellent. No divorce required. “Good, then he doesn’t have any kind of legal hold on her.”
Laura frowned and tapped the folder on Rafe’s desk. “If he’d brought this paperwork into any of a hundred police stations, he might have been able to walk out of here with Hope.”
“And by walk, Laura means drag you kicking and screaming in a straitjacket. According to all of this paperwork, the state of Georgia had you legally committed to a mental hospital seven years ago. You were given a day pass to go to lunch with him and you escaped,” Rafe explained.
Hope’s face flushed. “All lies.”
“We figured that,” Laura said. “I briefly went through this record, and none of this applies to you. I’ve known you for a year. You’ve never once had a manic episode. I could buy depression, but not bipolar disorder, and certainly not a history of violence. According to this file, you attacked a woman named Elaine Reeves because you thought she was after your husband. You only got off because Elaine Reeves left town.”