Between Midnight and Dawn (2 page)

A sigh left her chest as she contentedly slid between the lavender scented sheets and down comforter, settling back onto her pillows. Reaching over to the nightstand, she retrieved her cheesy romance novel and opened it to the page she’d bookmarked.

Enjoying the faint sound of the music, she reminded herself to get up and turn it off before falling asleep. But, it wouldn’t be the first night she fell asleep while reading, leaving the music playing all night long.

Nicole read for about five minutes before the feeling of being watched washed over her.

Her head shot up and terror detonated in her chest when she spotted a man standing in her bedroom doorway. A scream tore from her throat when he strode toward her in a nonchalant manner, as if he had all the time in the world. Cruel eyes stared at her from under a dark ski mask, and he held a fistful of red rope. The thought that Larry was out of jail and had come back for her crashed through her mind.

No. Impossible.

She would have been notified if he’d been released. Wouldn’t she?

Nicole shoved back the covers and jumped out of bed, racing toward the bathroom so she could lock herself inside as the feeling of déjà vu chased her. She was unable to hear anything but the music, but knew he was behind her. Fear blinded her, a fist squeezing her lungs.

Suddenly, she was lifted off her feet and tossed back onto the mattress. Screaming, Nicole scrambled to her knees as the man crawled onto the bed with her. The music still blared, the deep bass sound vibrating through her, along with her panic.

Her attacker laughed at her feeble efforts as she fought against him with every ounce of strength she had. Cigarette breath and an astringent aftershave wafted off him, making her stomach flip and bile rise in her throat.

He drew back a fist and punched her. Nicole’s mouth exploded with pain, her head slamming into the headboard with punishing force. Lights flashed in her vision.

Collapsing onto the mattress, she was too dazed to resist when the man straddled her waist, leering down at her through the black mask covering his face. She tasted blood on her mouth from a split lip, her breathing short and panicked.

Her attacker took her right hand and wrapped the thick rope around her wrist, roughly jerking her arm above her head and securing it to the bedpost. As her senses came back to her, she realized he was reaching for her other wrist.

No! If he managed to secure both her wrists she’d lose any hope for escape. Survival. Horror flooded her. Evil coated this man like thick sludge. Nicole knew he planned to rape her, maybe even kill her. But he’d make her suffer horribly first. The knowledge shone in his cold gray eyes.

Not Larry’s eyes.

God, this can’t be happening!

Nicole bucked wildly trying to dislodge him, but he didn’t budge. Grabbing her wrist, his lips twisted into a mean smile, mocked her feeble efforts. In desperation, she lifted her head off the bed and butted him in the face as hard as she could. Lungs burning, she sucked in a desperate gulp of air, readying to scream again.

She didn’t need to be able to hear him above the blasting music to know he swore at her, his eyes glaring down at her. Drawing back his fist, he punched her again, this time in the eye. For a moment her vision blackened and her body went limp, as though she had no bones, unable to move and totally at his mercy. A feeling of hopelessness swept through her and tears ran down the sides of her face as his terrifying vision came back into focus.

He tugged her other arm above her head, securing her wrist in a knotted loop. The heavy feel of him straddling her waist eased when he leaned up to wind the end of the rope around the other bedpost.

Exhaustion and a feeling of futility washed over her.
If I just submit, maybe he’ll let me live.

Then anger tore through her.

She wouldn’t just lie there and let this man abuse her. Hell no! She’d fight him every inch of the way.

Regaining her strength, she yanked her arm from his grasp before he’d had the chance to completely restrain her. Reaching up to claw at him, she twisted her body in an attempt to dislodge him.

The man grasped her arm and pressed it into the mattress. His mouth formed a sneer as he yelled at her, spittle flecked the corners of his mouth. Lifting his other arm back, he curled it into a fist, ready to strike her again. She tensed, preparing for the blow.

He paused, tilting his head to the side as if he were listening to something, before swiveling back around to face her. He cursed again. Then his weight eased off her, and he took off in a sprint.

For a moment Nicole just lay there, too stunned to move, her lungs seizing as she tried to think through her panic. Her face hurt, but she was alive, and the man who’d attacked her was gone.

Her body shook. Relief slammed into her with the force of a sledgehammer.

Move! Damn it! Move!

Her internal voice finally snapped her out of her daze, and she lurched up clawing at the rope restraining her wrist, but her clumsy fingers couldn’t loosen it. Attempting to wrench free, all she managed to do was shred her fingernails and break the skin underneath the thickly corded twine. Tears mingled with the metallic taste of her blood.

She cast a frightened look toward her bedroom door and screamed at the sight of a different man entering, with a gun. Pausing in the doorway, he said something to her, but she couldn’t hear what it was. She leapt off the bed, one hand still secured to the post by the rope, the other with rope dangling from it, and pressed herself back into the wall, as if she could disappear into it. Her legs unsteady underneath her, only the wall at her back kept her from collapsing onto the floor. Fear tightened her chest, panic filling up every spot in her body. She fought to maintain control, sucking in deep gulps of air.

Her gaze darted around the room, looking for a means of escape, or a weapon. This man stood between her and the door, and he wasn’t wearing a mask.

He’d never let her live after seeing his face.

“No, please.” She held up her hand, in a don’t-come-near-me gesture, as if that would do her any good. Dizziness assailed her and she swayed slightly. Gripping the bedpost to steady herself, she kept her eyes on the intruder. Prepared to defend herself if he came near her.

The man tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans and held up his hands, his lips moving as he spoke to her. But all she could hear was the music. He was tall, taller than the other man had been, thirtyish with wavy, jet-black hair. Even with her impaired vision, she could see his dark eyes watching her with a single-minded focus. He slowly walked toward her, like a lion stalking its prey.

Determination filled her. She wouldn’t let him touch her. Tugging frantically at the binding attaching her to the bed, she ignored the pain and further chafing of her wrist. She jerked at the restraint in an attempt to get free, even as the man closed the remaining distance between them.

She screamed when he reached for her. Locking one arm around her waist, he gathered both her wrists in his hand and flattened her palms against his chest. Pressed against him in a firm hold, he halted her struggles with little effort.

Her panic soared into the stratosphere, and she couldn’t contain a whimper from escaping. Lights danced around her as shadows filled her vision.

Then everything went black.

Allan Barber glared into his rearview mirror, shaking with nervous agitation, causing the car to swerve back and forth on the narrow country road with the jerky movements. The rapid palpitations of his heart pounded in his ears. What little sunshine there’d been when he’d broken into the woman’s house was gone, and the night sky hung starless and black overhead, just like the growing darkness inside him. He didn’t see any headlights behind him, so he hadn’t been followed. His panic began to ease as fury moved in to take its place.

His lip curled. Mr. Hero must have stayed behind with the woman. Allan pounded the steering wheel of the piece of crap rental he’d procured to retrieve his newest plaything. “Goddamn, sonofabitch!”

Reaching to the door, he pressed the button to lower the window, sucking in the fresh air and trying to settle his nerves. In all the years he’d been at this game, tonight had been the closest he’d ever come to being caught. His mouth tightened as rage swirled like a tornado inside him. It just had to be Kyle Wade. The son of a bitch was relentless.

Nicole Chambers had come to Allan’s attention a few weeks back, when he’d seen her picture in a local rag, having been attacked by her boyfriend. And if not for Wade’s interference, he’d have her bound and naked underneath him right now, enjoying her beautiful body before taking her to his cabin to play some more.

He’d instantly been drawn to her. Those big eyes and tits, reddish waves curling around a cute face. So much like the women his father used to bring home. His old man had always been partial to slim, but stacked, redheads.

His mother had died in an auto accident when he was just a kid. No great loss. She hadn’t really been the nurturing type, and what he did remember weren’t warm fuzzies.

Over the years, when not knocking the crap out of Allan, his hard-drinking father had a string of different women in his bed. Memories of watching through the peephole between their bedrooms as his father used ropes to tie up the women before whipping them, then screwing them in every conceivable manner as they begged for more, burned through his mind.

Allan had just turned eighteen, when his father was killed in a bar fight. Four years later, he’d snatched Wade’s mother. He recalled the fun he’d had with the woman. The way she’d begged and pleaded for her life while he’d enjoyed her body. She’d been at his mercy and he’d taken great pleasure in finally getting the chance to fulfill all his dark sexual fantasies.

Allan’s cock stirred with the memories.

He’d been young and impatient, and it’d been over too soon. But to this day, out of them all, she’d been the sweetest. He’d been searching all these years for a woman who could provide him with the same level of excitement. But not one of the bitches had lived up to the memory of his first conquest.

He’d been watching Nicole for over a week now, and had planned the night out down to the tiniest of details. His erection swelled as he imagined the things he could be doing to her right now, his unfulfilled urges still burning bright. Next time he went for her, he’d be more prepared. She was his, and nothing would stop him from having her.

But first, he needed to get Wade off his back. After Allan had filed the harassment complaint, he’d assumed the guy was off licking his wounds somewhere. But he’d been wrong.

I should have known the stubborn bastard wouldn’t give up that easy.

Images of Nicole danced before his vision, her tight little ass, and the heavy roundness of her tits. With practice, he’d perfected his craft, learning to take his time with his victims. He looked forward to taming her, and if she did it right he might let her live. But he’d never let her go . . .

Allan’s mouth watered and he unzipped his pants, tugging out his aching dick. But no matter how many times he fisted his member, he couldn’t get off. As his rage grew, he shoved his throbbing erection back inside, cursing Kyle Wade for denying him his entertainment.

Nicole Chambers will be mine, you son of a bitch.

Reaching the freeway entrance, he merged into traffic and headed back toward town. His mind raced. His urges were growing stronger every day, and would not be denied.

He needed to find a woman right now.

Then he’d do something big to rattle Wade, get the man off his back so he could get to Nicole.

The little shit had interfered for the last time.

Chapter 2

Kyle swore when the woman went limp in his arms, even though he couldn’t hear himself above the blaring rock music. Either Nicole had cranked the music, or Barber did it to cover the sound of her screams. He gently placed her onto the bed, trying not to injure her wrist any further than she’d already done in her struggles.

When he’d entered the room, she’d seen him and freaked out even though he’d tried to reassure her he was there to help her. It’d felt like a punch in the gut when she’d stared at him with stark terror in her eyes, one cheek red and swollen, her lip bloodied. There’d been no choice but to restrain her before she did even further damage to herself.

Keeping his senses alert to his surrounding, in case Barber came back, Kyle worked feverishly at the rope tying her to the bedpost. The knot was tight, even more so from her tugging at it. Finally, it loosened and he was able to free her. The injury to the tender skin around her wrist cranked up his fury.

He hoped she’d only fainted, although it made him feel like shit for being the cause. But there was still a possibility she’d been hurt worse than he thought. He slid his hand behind her head to check for an injury, feeling a small lump, but found no broken skin.

She slowly stirred, her long dark lashes fluttering. She’d been out less than a minute, and a rush of relief swept through him.

Kyle would have continued searching the house for Barber but didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone, though he was certain the man was long gone by now. But he couldn’t be sure of that. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and did a quick assessment of her injuries. At least the visible ones.

She moaned.

“Hey, you okay?” He ran the tips of his fingers down her non-bruised cheek. Her skin felt soft as silk, just like he’d imagined it would. Besides the injury to her face, she appeared mostly unharmed.

The music was really starting to get on his nerves.

Kyle eyed the rope dangling from her other wrist, wanting it off her right this goddamn minute. When he leaned across her to remove it, a soft moan slid from between her bruised lips.

Her eyes popped open and dark eyes landed on him. He slipped the knotted loop off her wrist as the confusion in her dazed stare morphed into fear.

“No,” she cried out, reaching up to claw at him.

“Whoa, honey.” Kyle blocked her hands with a forearm, attempting to keep his tone soothing, but it was hard to do when he had to yell to be heard over the blasting music.

She stared at him with a look of horror, her chest heaving under the translucent material cradling her plump breasts. Even before she moved, he knew she was going to flee. Not knowing where Barber was, he couldn’t allow that to happen.

She rolled across the bed, and off, taking two unsteady steps toward the door. He quickly stood and wrapped one arm around her tiny waist, and as gently as possible, tugged her back against him. She didn’t reach his chin, her delicate frame trembling against him, even as she attempted to break his hold.

“I won’t hurt you,” he repeated, hoping like hell she’d calm down so he could check out her place and make sure it was clear.

But she didn’t. Instead, she seemed to catch a second wind, and her struggles increased. She fought him like a wildcat. Twisting to the side, she stomped his foot.

“Damn it,” he rasped out, “stop.”

She continued to fight him, struggling harder to break free, her frightened cries ringing above the loud music.

At the knowledge Barber was getting away, frustration surged through him. But he couldn’t leave this woman unprotected. He needed to subdue her, so he could check the place out.

Kyle spun around. Pinning her back to the wall, he pressed his body against hers, trapping her legs under his own to still her struggles. She was a little thing and he easily subdued her, even though she continued to fight him. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t let her run in case Barber was still nearby.

She reached up to claw at his face, and trying not to hurt her injured wrists he grasped her hands and held them up against the wall, above her head. Her heart beat rapidly against his chest, her soft whimpers like a knife in the heart. The eyes that met his were filled with fear and tears, and his shoulders tightened with regret.

He attempted to reassure her. “It’s okay. Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.” He needed her cooperation before he could check out her place.

But she didn’t stop, just continued to fight with more strength than he’d have thought her capable of. Her screams rang in his ears and made him feel like a rapist or some goddamn thing.

He needed to do something fast, so he could secure the area. The longer he remained distracted, the greater the danger was to them both. Readjusting his grip, he carefully gathered her wrists into his hand, trying not to irritate her injury, then gripped her shoulder with his other hand, giving it a sharp shake. “Stop!”

His voice cracked through the room like a whip.

She froze. Eyes wide, she stared up at him in horror.

Well, shit . . .

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised.

She continued to watch him with the same frightened look, so he repeated himself, loud enough to be heard over the blasting beat of Michael Jackson.

Although she still vibrated with tension, she at least nodded this time.

“I’m Kyle, and I’m a cop.”

Okay, so maybe that was technically a lie, since he’d had his badge pulled. But he’d say anything right now to get her to stop looking at him with fear in her eyes. Though now he knew they were a lovely shade of golden-brown. He was one of the good guys, for Christ’s sake. He’d never hurt her, or any woman.

There was a lull in the music as the song finished. “I won’t hurt you,” he said quietly in an attempt to calm her. Her brows furrowed. Her gaze dropping to his mouth, then back up. A thought struck him, and he said it again, louder this time as the music began to play, a softer tune.
Thank God.

Some of the tension left her body, but her eyes remained wary.

He strove to stay relaxed and nonthreatening, even as a sharp wave of sympathy swirled through him at the suspicion she was deaf, or at least had a hearing problem. There wasn’t anything in his file mentioning her hearing was impaired. Had it happened when her boyfriend put her in the hospital?

“A cop?” She studied him with suspicion through narrowed eyes.

She smelled like flowers. And cherries. Her curves utterly soft and feminine underneath him, the slip of silk she wore no barrier between them. The fullness of her breasts dug into his chest, and he was acutely aware of his hips pressed against her in intimate contact.

His groin twitched. With a silent curse, he released her and took a short step back. No way could he allow himself to become emotionally entangled with this woman. She was his ticket to taking down Barber. Nothing more.

Raising his hands in a nonthreatening gesture, he ignored her question. “I’m going to go turn the music down.”

Not only was it giving him a headache, he needed to be able to hear if someone was still in the house. Besides, he had to call this in and secure her an ambulance. “You gonna be okay?”

She slid out from under him, putting more distance between them. He tensed, ready to stop her if she attempted to run again. But she only nodded, the gaze she leveled on him no less suspicious.

Kyle didn’t know how much Barber had hurt her before he’d arrived, although he’d only been about fifteen minutes behind the man. His mouth tightened, studying the damage done to her face. If only he’d gotten there faster, maybe he could have prevented her from being hurt.

Her body was enticingly showcased in a blue fluff of material posing as a nightgown, emphasizing all her curves. Holding out his hand, Kyle kept his eyes on her face, and not on the slender form displayed under the nearly sheer material. “Please come with me.”

He spoke clearly and hoped she understood him. He wasn’t going to leave her alone, and he needed to shut the music off so he could call the police. He’d tried to call them when he realized Barber was inside the house, but hadn’t been able to make a connection, and he decided her service must be spotty out this far. He’d try again, or use the landline.

Nicole hesitated, and he figured if she had hearing problems, there was no way she’d understand him with the music blasting. So he took a step closer. His jaw set when she pressed back into the wall, fear flashing across her face again, distrust clear in her gorgeous eyes.

Stopping in front of her, he raised his voice and mimicked twisting a knob counterclockwise. “Can we shut the music off?”

Nicole stared at him for only a moment, then nodded, retrieving a light blue matching robe off a chair and putting it on before attempting to skirt around him.

Kyle held up his arm, blocking her path. Knowing he didn’t have her trust, he gave her a smile before retrieving his weapon and turning toward the door. “Stay behind me.”

“What?” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper.

Glancing back, he repeated himself, more loudly this time so she’d understand him. She gave a curt nod, and followed him into the living room. She flipped on a lamp near the couch, then stepped over to shut off the stereo.

Finally, there was blessed silence.

Spotting the phone, he called 9-1-1 and reported the crime, knowing it’d take the police at least twenty minutes to reach her place. Then he turned to check the rest of the house.

But when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Nicole sway slightly, looking as if a soft breeze could blow her over. The light from the lamp shone behind her, illuminating her lush curves through the sheer material of her nightgown, and his pulse jumped.

Even in her distressed state, she was beyond beautiful.

His protective instincts kicked in, and he quickly made his way over to her, and took her gently by the elbow. “I think you should sit down.”

She stiffened, though she didn’t pull away from him when he led her over to an overstuffed tan couch, easing her down onto it. The smooth fragrance of vanilla and lavender surrounded her, and messy auburn curls framed her heart-shaped face.

Kyle was all too aware of her as a woman, and he clenched his jaw. His top priority had to be proving Barber’s guilt. He had no business thinking of Nicole Chambers that way.

She was too soft. Too ethereal. His women tended to be tougher, balls-to-the-wall kick ass. Usually other cops who could handle themselves in any situation. Nothing like the petite, classy woman before him now. Besides, there was no time for a woman anywhere in his near future. Not until Barber was locked-up, or better yet, dead.

Not only did he plan to use her to bait a serial killer, she was also a victim. It’d be beyond wrong to get involved with her. No matter how tempting she was.

She was his best option to lure Barber in, he reminded himself, shoving down the guilt trying to take root inside him.
I’ll make sure he doesn’t get anywhere near her again.
No one except maybe Rob believed Barber was C.H.K. It was up to Kyle, if he wanted his mother’s killer to pay.

He studied Nicole. She was pale. Besides the damage to her wrists, she had a red mark in the middle of her forehead, partially hidden under her bangs. Her lip was split and one eye puffy. A snarl rose inside him.

His every muscle tensed at the thought of Barber touching her. The piece of shit wouldn’t get another chance. Because Kyle wasn’t going anywhere until the guy was caught.

Nicole collapsed back onto the soft leather couch as Kyle, if that really was his name, retrieved his gun from the waistband of his jeans. He’d said he was a cop, but should she believe him?

“Stay there while I take a look around,” he told her, before turning away to go search the house.

She watched him walk away, not immune to his heady masculine appeal, and silently scolded herself for even noticing his good looks. Ruggedly handsome, he reminded her of a young Patrick Swayze, with a strong nose and square jaw, except his hair was darker, midnight black, and wavy, curling at the nape of his neck. His shoulders were wide, with a narrow waist and nice butt encased in dark blue jeans. He moved with confidence, his air of calm authority helping to settle her nerves somewhat.

But it was his eyes that had affected her the most. A beautiful light-hazel color, with green speckles. Honest eyes, filled with a calm assurance, making her inclined to trust him.

Although questions swirled in her mind. Who was the man that’d attacked her? Why was this man here? Was he really a cop? A shiver slid through her.
And how does he know my name
? She’d never seen him before.

Nicole grabbed a couple tissues from the box on the coffee table, dabbing at her mouth to remove the blood she could still taste. Her lower lip felt twice its size, and her cheek throbbed from the punch she’d taken. Resting her head against the back of the couch, careful not to press against the bump on her head, she wondered why she was suddenly attracting the crazies. Twice attacked, and only a few months apart.
Maybe I need a gun.
She quickly dismissed the idea, afraid she’d only end up shooting her own foot, or something.

Deep in thought, her eyes flew open when someone touched her shoulder. A cry tore from her as she brought her arms up in a defensive gesture. Kyle stood in front of her, but raised his hands in the air. His eyes glittered dangerously, his expression tense.

“I’m sorry.” He lowered his arms and raked one hand through his hair. His next words were harder to understand, given her distraction with the way his fingers slid through the black silk of his hair, and he was mumbling.

Probably more apologies for scaring me
.

Gathering her sorely damaged dignity around her like a cloak, Nicole got to her feet and glared at him. She was tired of being a victim. It stopped now. “What’s going on? Who was that man?”

Kyle took her arm and guided her back onto the couch, kneeling down in front of her. His expression serious, he reached for the afghan lying on the armrest and wrapped it around her shoulders.