A Year of You (36 page)

Then he was kissing her, deeply, hard, holding her tight against his body. Gripping her face between his hands, he peppered her forehead and her cheeks and her lips with kisses salty from their mingled tears.

West swiped his wet face on his sleeve. Tucking Mattie’s hair behind her ears, he shook his head. “It’s just sex, baby. Nothing else, okay? We can’t do this to ourselves when we both know how it’s going to end.”

He pushed away from her and disappeared out the front door. Mattie scrambled after him, completely confused, heart pounding. She caught up with him at the foot of the stairs.

“Is it the money? Emeline can have every damn dime, West! I don’t want the money. It’s not what I came here for!”

He shook her grasping hand off her arm and stomped to the truck. Hot tears blinded her. She couldn’t see it, but she heard the truck roar to life, then bounce down the rutted driveway. The wind slammed the thin metal door in her face.

“He’ll come back,” she whispered to Scruffy. He whined at her feet, head cocked. Her legs went weak. If she didn’t sit down, she was going to fall down. She stepped backwards and dropped to the steps.

Scruffy nuzzled her arm. She wrapped her arm around the mutt. “He’ll come back,” she said again. Her voice broke on the last word and she buried her head in her arms. Scruffy’s wet nose and concerned whines only made her cry harder.

***

Mattie woke up on the couch, stiff and sore. West still wasn’t home. She shoved herself upright. The room spun around her for a terrible, nauseous moment. She braced herself on the wooden arm of the couch until she could open her eyes without puking.

She froze. The recliner squeaked as it rocked. She took in a slow, deep breath. The heavy, musky scent of a familiar cologne made her want to puke. She knew without a doubt who sat on the other arm of the couch, just out of her line of site. “K,” she whispered.

“Rise and shine, Matilyn,” he replied, the usual sneer in his voice. Slowly she turned around.

Her breath caught in her throat, and something like boulders shifted in her belly. Her legs turned to water. She couldn’t stand if she tried.

K rose from the chair and perched on the other arm of the couch, leering at her. West was in the recliner, his face bloodied and swollen. One eye had swollen shut. One of her light blue dishtowels circled his lower face, gagging him. Two men leaned on the wall, Logan and the other guy from the van. When he saw her looking at him, Logan winked.

“Let him go, K. He’s not part of this.” Mattie coughed to clear her throat. “Please, K. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I don’t like this attitude you’ve had lately.” K rose to his feet and gazed down at her, hands on his hips. “You’ve been a little bitch lately.”

“I’m sorry, K.”

He grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet like she was a rebellious child. Instinctively she hunched her shoulders, shielding her chest, ducking her head. “You’re not sorry. You’ve been having quite the little party down here.”

“No, K. I’ve been trying to get your money.”

He smacked her cheek, hard enough to sting. West made a muffled noise. Logan kicked the side of the recliner.

Mattie gulped in a deep breath and forced down the bile that rose to the back of her throat. “You gave me a month, K.”

He shrugged. “So I’m a couple weeks early. I got sick of waiting. We’re getting my money, and we’re getting it now. Then me and you are going home.” He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “And you’re never, ever, ever leaving again. Isabella’s coming home to take care of you.” He turned her around and gave her a little shove toward the front door. “Now. Out.”

K marched her outside, followed by Logan. The other guy towed West along by the back of his shirt. He looked like he could barely stand.

“Burn it,” K said, gesturing. “Make ‘em watch.” He held on to Mattie while one of the men held West against his chest, arm tight around his throat. The other guy, the one that had grabbed Mattie, took a bright red gas can into the trailer.

“No, K, stop it!” Mattie fought against his arms. “Don’t do that!”

A moment later the one guy hauled ass out of the trailer. Ghastly orange flames licked at the living room wall, peeking through the windows like shy children.

Before long black smoke began to billow out of the open front door.

Everything West treasured was in the trailer. The things his father had left him: a watch, a journal, some stuff of his grandfathers. His mother’s wedding dress stored under the bed. Pictures. Priceless photos of his dead family.

West’s muffled grunts broke her heart.

Mattie tried to pull away from K once more. He let her go, and she fell flat on her face in the dirt. “Stupid bitch.” He chuckled. Spitting sand, she got to her knees. He hauled her up and shoved, grabbed her hair, yanking her head up and back. “See what you did, Mats? You did that. This is all your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, incoherent. The old trailer went up like a tinderbox. The metal siding began to melt. Windows shattered from the heat. A strange sense of numbness overcame Mattie’s mind, and she was distantly aware of her sobs tapering off and the slimy feel of her wet face.

K opened the back door of Em’s Navigator. Then Logan shoved Mattie in and climbed in after her. It took both men to shove West into the back seat next to Mattie. He seemed barely conscious. In shock, she guessed.

K gunned the engine
How had he gotten Em’s Navigator? “How did you get this truck?” she asked. “K?”

He ignored her and backed down the drive, not caring that he bottomed out more than once. “I want my money, Mats.”


“I don’t have it yet, K. I told you that.”


“Shut up. I know you do. Where is it, Mattie?”
“

I don’t have the money, K! I have to be married for a year.”


“Liar. A little birdie told me all about the three fucking million dollars you’ll get at the end of the month.”

Emeline, of course
.

“K, there’s not any money yet. Not a damn dime. Where’s Emeline?”


“Right behind you.”
Puzzled, Mattie looked over her shoulder before she realized K meant she was in the cargo hold.

Dead? Alive? “K, she’s not involved in this!”
Emeline lay in the cargo hold, eyes closed, looking like a porcelain princess. Mattie barely detected the rise and fall of her chest. Em smelled like she had wet herself. “What did you do to her?”

“Just a little something-something in her drink. She’ll be fine—if you cooperate. I figure we’ll get more with her than we ever would with you. Nobody really seems to like you all that much, ya know, Mats?”


“What do you mean?”


“They don’t like you.” K laughed, slapped his thigh. “All she could talk about is how awful and terrible you are. How you stole her man. You’re going to be holding her hostage. You got mad when lover-boy there found out who you really are. The thought of losing all that money has made you a little crazy.”

K glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Look at you, Mattie. You used to be on top of the game. Now look at you. You’re crying like some titty-baby. I heard—now, this has to be the craziest thing in the world—that you got yourself knocked up by Mr. Rockstar back there.”

His eyes pinned her to her seat. “That true, Mats?”


“None of your business, K.”
He smirked at her. “We’ll see when I fish the bastard out of you with a coat hanger.”
West reacted, shifting in his seat. His hands were tied behind his back with black zip-ties, and he didn’t even have the strength to lift his head off his chest. Blood dripped steadily into his lap, soaking into his jeans in big dark blotches.

“West, I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

In the front seat, K mocked her. “I’m tho thorry! I’m tho, tho, thorry!”

In that moment, a deep calm overcame her. She was going to kill K, if it was the last thing she ever did. He’d ruined her life too many times. He’d taken too many things away from her. He was not taking West.

Chapter Twenty-Four

K drove them through the backwoods of the community, finally parking in front of an old fern-packing shed down a long, winding path through a neglected fernery. It looked like someone had turned it into a studio apartment at some point. K and the two thugs hustled them inside, shoving them into a sitting position on the floor by the wall. They dragged Emeline in and dumped her on the floor. Her lips parted, and a deep breath issued from her lungs. Mattie felt faint with relief.

“Relax. She’s just doped up. She’s altogether way too trusting.”


Beside Mattie, West groaned, “Oh, God, Em.”
It hurt worse than anything K had ever done to her, or could ever do to her. The fight went out of her. “K, let them go. They don’t have anything to do with this.”


“I told you, sugar-buns. That one there has everything to do with it.” He pointed at Emeline. “Her daddy’ll pay whatever I want for her safe return. And that asshat there...he touched what was mine.”

“That was my fault, K! I started everything with him. Let him go. I started everything.”
K laughed and rolled his eyes.
Logan turned on the nearest lamp. The pale light didn’t reach the far corners of the structure. The shed-turned-apartment was all one room, with the farthest corner curtained off. There wasn’t a real sink, just a couple of metal tubs of different sizes next to an outdoor-style faucet sticking out of the wall.

How do I get out of this? How do I save West and Emeline?
An ancient couch sat in the middle of the room. Logan and the other van guy reclined comfortably on either end. The door slammed shut behind them, like the executioner’s ax. If she was going down, she was going down fighting. When K latched on to her arm, Mattie fought against K like a demon. He smacked her across the face.

“What the hell’s your problem? Shut up! Stop that shit.” He shook her so hard her teeth clacked together, then shoved her to the wall. Dizzy and stunned, she sank down to her butt.

K pulled up a straight back chair and sat in it backwards, facing Mattie. “Mats, what’s happened to you? You’ve gone all moral and domestic on me.”

“I never wanted to do any of this stuff,” she replied. “I just wanted you to leave me alone. I want you to leave them alone. All of them. I’ll do whatever you want me to, just leave them alone.”

Animated, K slid out of the chair and knelt in front of Mattie. He took her face in his hands. She tried to jerk away, but he held her tight. “You’re mine, Mattie. You always have been. Since the day my dad married that whore Carmen, you’ve been mine.”

Big tears leaked out of Mattie’s eyes. “No. No. No.”

“Yeah. And when we go home, you’re going to be mine forever. I’ve got the basement all fixed up for you. I’m not letting you out of my sight, ever again. Molly—you know, I finally got a chance to meet my own daughter. She’s about old enough to start working for me, too.” He chewed on his lip. “Yeah...I’ll take her to Vegas with me next time I go.”

The blood drained from Mattie’s face. Not Molly. Not sweet, beautiful Molly. She shook her head, sobbing softly. K brushed her hair away from her face. “Mats, your tears are beautiful. You know how sexy you are when you’re crying?” His fingers tightened on her face. She cried out in pain. “That’s hot, you know. Remember the old times, Mats? It’s been so long, I’ve just about forgot what you feel like. I’d come to your room, and you’d cry and beg and then you’d try to scream...”

Mattie was helpless and she knew it. Knowing it only made it worse. Her hands trembled like blades of grass in a hurricane. To keep K from seeing it, she wrapped her arms around her midsection and clamped her hands under her elbows. The only thing she had strength to do was weep. Her mind cast about frantically for some plan of escape.

No! What was she thinking? If she escaped, Molly, West, and Em were as good as dead. He’d never kill Molly, but the future would be very, very bleak.


If it were a movie, there’d be a nail or something sticking out of the wall that she could use to cut the ropes. Or a hero would come sweeping in at the last minute.
The problem was her hero was sitting next to her, tied to an eyebolt in the wall.
K kicked out at her. She jerked aside, bumping into West in the process. He didn’t even look at her.


“Enough screwing around, Mattie. We got work to do.”
He plucked his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. “I’m going to call McKendrick. You’re going to tell him you have Emeline. If he wants her back in one piece, it’s going to cost him five mil.”

Logan marched over and snatched her up. He cut the ropes around her wrists. K held the phone out to her. “It’s ringing.”

“No.” Mattie crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. “K, you can’t do this. You can’t destroy these people’s lives.”

“Mattie, that man has more money than he will ever need.” He backhanded her hard enough to knock her to the floor. As she pushed herself up on her elbows, she caught a glimpse of West’s face. Blood had dried on his face like a horrible mask. His eyes glittered in the dim light of the converted shed.

His gaze lingered on hers for a moment, then returned to Emeline’s snoring form.

Mattie got to her hands and her knees. All of West’s concerns rested on Emeline. For a moment she considered refusing, telling K to do his worst—to her and to Emeline.

But that would kill West. Watching someone hurt Emeline would destroy him. “I’m not going to let him hurt you,” she whispered to West.

The look in his eyes said he didn’t care, that he hated her.
“Or her,” she finished.


“No favors,” he muttered thickly.
His remark stung. She got to her feet anyway, swiping away the thin trickle of blood that ran from the corner of her mouth.

“I won’t fight you, K, but you have to promise you won’t do anything else to them.”

K sneered. “I know all about them, Mattie. I’d be doing you a favor if I took care of him. I know all about how he’s so in love with the Paris-Hilton-wannabee over there. You’re nothing to him, babe. He’s all about that pussy.” K snorted with mirth. “Which ain’t all that good, by the way. It was absolutely
nothing
to get her to tell me everything I wanted to know.”