Brendon (24 page)

Apparently the crazy bastard who had disrupted Cheyenne’s life for the past year was an ex-boyfriend of hers. According to RT’s theory—which he’d received the CliffsNotes version of while RT handed off the crazy decoy-stalker to Sheriff Endsley—this guy wasn’t too happy with the fact that Cheyenne had broken up with him. More accurately, he wasn’t doing all that well with his music career and he blamed Cheyenne for not helping him.

As stupid as he thought that was, Brendon sort of understood.

Sort of.

Based on the info RT had texted him
after
Brendon had realized what the hell was going on and had made a beeline back to the house like his ass was on fire, Victor Thomas Campbell was twenty-seven years old and was currently in between jobs. Brendon had to wonder whether that was because the guy had become a creeper for the past year or for another reason entirely.

“What is it that you want from me, Victor?”

Brendon heard Cheyenne’s question and he hated that she was in there and he was outside, but the only—
absolute one and fucking only
—reason he wasn’t tearing down the walls to get to her was because Z was inside. He was in the kitchen to be exact, managing to sneak in when Cheyenne’s parents had left. They, of course, were currently spending some quality time in the back of Sheriff Endsley’s squad car alongside Martin McDonald, while RT was on the front porch, waiting for the action.

As for him, Brendon didn’t want action. He wanted Cheyenne to walk out that door completely unharmed. Then, and only then, when he could get her safely out of the way, would he go in and introduce himself to this asshole. Fist-first.

“What do
I
want?” Victor’s tone reflected the guy’s instability. He wasn’t as calm as Brendon would’ve liked. “I want you to remember the promises you made me. And I think we’ll just sit here until that happens.”

“Promises?” Cheyenne asked, sounding both confused and pissed. “I don’t—”

Cheyenne’s words were cut off by the sound of a loud crack, and Brendon’s entire body went rigid.

If that motherfucker disturbed one single hair on her head, he was a dead man.

Holding his breath, waiting for Z to go in there and save the fucking day, Brendon tamped down the killing rage. Moving closer to the window over the sink, Brendon glanced inside. He couldn’t see Victor, but he could see Cheyenne.

Son of a bitch!

She was holding her face as though she’d been struck.

If Z didn’t do something right quick, Brendon wasn’t going to make any promises on his ability to be a bystander for much longer. He trusted Z, knew the guy would get Cheyenne out of this safely, but he hated standing around with his thumb up his ass. From the outside looking in, Brendon felt as though he was in a bad cop drama, only there weren’t many cops involved. Yet.

“What the hell did you hit me for?” Cheyenne exclaimed.

Brendon’s heart slammed against his ribs, fear mixing with amusement because he could tell his little hellcat wasn’t too happy about being manhandled. His respect for her grew even more. God, he loved this woman.

But he really hoped she wouldn’t attempt to piss off the loose cannon any more.

“I told you . . . I want you to remember the promises you made me. And I want you to tell me what they are.”

“Why don’t we quit playin’ games, Victor. Just tell me what it is you’re after. We can figure it out from there. But I never was good at guessing games, so if you expect me to figure out what happened between us three freaking years ago, I’m afraid we’ll be waitin’ a while.”

“You think you’re cute, don’t you? You and the whole goddamn world think the West Texas Princess is so fucking adorable. What about
me
? I was supposed to be right there with you, Cheyenne. Or have you forgotten that? I was supposed to move up in the world.”

“Is that what this is about? You’re pissed because I didn’t launch you into stardom?”

Brendon wished he could see Victor’s face. Cheyenne’s incredulity was palpable, even from where he stood outside the house.

“You and I both know that you promised me—”

A knock on the front door halted Victor midsentence.

Shit.

Brendon’s heart jumped into his throat, his lungs ceased to fill.

There was only one person that could be. Not only was it a distraction for Victor, it was a signal for Z.

Oh, and of course it was another heart-stopper for Brendon.

chapter
TWENTY-NINE

C
heyenne’s eyes snapped toward the front door at the same time Victor’s entire body swung around to face the potential threat.

That was the moment Cheyenne caught Z moving out of the corner of her eye. She managed to clamp her lips shut to keep from freaking out, not wanting to alert Victor to the shift in control that had just taken place. Even if he was too stupid to realize.

For a guy who’d gone through incredible lengths to threaten her and then finally track her down, the ending seemed somewhat of a letdown.

Not that she was complaining. Nope, not at all.

Victor’s gun was still on the table, but he was at least five or six feet away while Z . . . well, Z was clearly prepared. He had his gun—she had absolutely no idea what kind of gun it was because she didn’t know a damn thing about those things—pointed directly at Victor.

“Put your hands in the air where I can see them,” Z ordered, his deep baritone rough enough to make the hair on Cheyenne’s arms stand on end. This guy wasn’t messing around.

Victor spun around again and that was when the front door crashed in.

Cheyenne turned her attention to Victor, who was seething as he stared at Z in disbelief.

Z nodded to the gun on the table and RT walked over and retrieved it.

“Fuck,” Victor groaned, lifting his hands in the air.

Sheriff Endsley walked in a moment later, followed by Brendon. The sheriff marched right over to Victor, pulling out handcuffs as he moved with purpose. But that was the last thing Cheyenne noticed because Brendon’s arms came around her and he pulled her against him, one big hand cradling the back of her head as he held her tight. He was shaking and that—his emotional reaction—was what broke her. The tears got free and Cheyenne fell apart in his arms, the relief that it was all over weakening her legs.

Brendon helped her down to the couch, but he didn’t let her go. Cheyenne held on tight to Brendon, the noises of the scene taking place just a few feet away echoing in her head, but making no sense whatsoever.

“It’s over, baby,” Brendon told her, his lips pressing against the top of her head. “It’s all over.”

That was so hard to believe, but Cheyenne was grateful. She knew she’d been lucky. Victor—clearly unstable—could have done something unthinkable. He was obviously not right in the head if he had gone out of his way to threaten her life because he was pissed at her about his career, or lack thereof.

Even now, as her heart rate slowed, her sobs becoming less frantic, Cheyenne still couldn’t figure out what he’d been referring to. Although three years was a long time, she didn’t recall ever making any promises to him. Oh, she remembered how animated he was when he would talk about his future—usually masked as
her
future—but Cheyenne had never been in a place to make any promises.

Regardless, that still didn’t give him the right to torment her for the last year.

And her parents . . . Fresh tears came as she thought about what they’d done. How could they? She’d known they were selfish, but she’d never expected that they would give her up to a madman to make a buck. Not in a million years.

“Is Scrap okay?” Cheyenne asked when she could get her voice to work.

Brendon chuckled, the sound vibrating through her skull because she still leaned against him.

“He’s fine, baby. Perfectly fine.”

That was good. She wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself if anything had happened to Brendon or Scrap in this whole ordeal.

Wait.

Sitting up, Cheyenne looked at Brendon. “Why’d you run out of the house?”

Initially, she’d thought he had heard something the same as Scrap had, but the subsequent events just didn’t add up.

“Because I’m an idiot,” he told her bluntly.

Cheyenne’s confusion must’ve been plastered on her face because Brendon sighed, then pulled her head to his chest before he spoke again, this time his voice lower, his mouth closer to her ear.

“Z called. That was the instruction. I didn’t know the plan, had no idea any of that was going to happen. Trust me, if I had, I’d have met that asshole at the front door, not run out the back like a fucking pussy.”

Cheyenne giggled, as did someone else in the room. She recognized the voice as Z’s.

“You didn’t run like a pussy,” Z informed him. “You did exactly what I needed you to do. It was the only way to handle it.”

Cheyenne pulled away again and looked up, meeting Z’s serious gaze, waiting for more information.

“Martin McDonald, the guy who’d been set up by Victor, was in the yard. Clearly Victor thought that diversion would work again, but we’d seen him coming a mile away. It also helped that Austin had finally tracked him down—somethin’ about bouncing IP addresses. Shit I know nothin’ about.”

She had no clue either, but whatever it was, she was grateful that Austin knew what he was doing.

“Anyway, we sent Brendon out the back for two reasons. One, that was what Victor expected, and two, I needed to get in the house without Victor seeing me. Scrap had been perfect, but Brendon was the icing on the cake. His abrupt exit scared the shit out of McDonald, sending him right into our trap. Endsley had been ready for him. So, he’ll be keepin’ your parents company tonight. The sheriff’s takin’ ’em down to the station for questioning.”

“Will they be arrested?” Cheyenne questioned.

“Don’t know. Depends on intent,” Z explained.

Arrested or not, Cheyenne still couldn’t believe what they’d done. Her heart ached from the deceit.

It made her long to see her grandmother, wanting to hear her voice, see her beautiful face. She needed to see a family member who actually cared about her.

In the meantime, she had Brendon, a man who’d proven to her that he cared deeply. And she, in turn, had fallen head over heels in love with him. So much so that she couldn’t picture the rest of her life without him anymore. Nor did she want to.

BRENDON WASN’T SURE
he would ever be able to take his hands off Cheyenne. Knowing she was okay . . . he was overwhelmed by emotion. The devastating amount of love he felt for this one woman was enough to have him tempted to break down and cry—something he hadn’t done in . . . well, ever.

After all she’d just been through, she was still worried about others, including her own parents who’d sold her out to some crazy little fucker with a vendetta. Brendon still couldn’t believe her stalker was a pissed-off ex-boyfriend.

Granted, it could’ve been worse. Much, much worse. So for that he was grateful.

But now he just wanted everyone to leave so he could tuck her in bed and hold her for the rest of the night. Hell, for the rest of the month he’d be content just to have her in his arms, listening to the sound of her breathing, the beat of her heart. Anything to reassure him that she was safe.

His stomach churned.

With the threat out of the way, would Cheyenne still want him there? Would she be eager to get back on the road now that she didn’t have to worry about some crazy stalker disrupting her life?

Those were questions he didn’t have answers for, and truth was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know them. As grateful as he was that she was safe, letting her walk out of his life wasn’t something he could wrap his mind around.

“We’re gonna head out,” Z said.

Brendon kissed Cheyenne’s forehead and told her he’d be right back. When she nodded, he released her and pushed to his feet, following Z out onto the front porch and closing the door behind him. That effort instantly failed because RT and his brilliant ideas had kicked the damn thing in, so the latch didn’t connect in the jamb.

Well, he wouldn’t be leaving Cheyenne alone tonight, that was for sure.

At least it was something.

“So what’s next?” Brendon asked his friend.

“He’ll be arrested, booked. As for charges, I don’t know what they’ll pin him with. Whatever it is, I doubt he’ll be comin’ after her any time in the near future.”

Brendon hoped the fuck not.

“Between you and me,” Z added, “RT had a few choice words to say to the guy. Let’s put it this way, if he does come after her again, he’s a bigger dumb-ass than I thought he was. RT’s threats tend to stick with you.”

After meeting RT, Brendon was inclined to agree with Z. He damn sure wouldn’t want to be on the guy’s bad side. Considering the guy had three brothers and a father who’d been noted as a serious badass, Brendon definitely had no intentions of pissing any of them off.

“I’m not sure I can thank you enough for this,” Brendon told Z.

“It’s what I do. It’s what I live for.”

Brendon watched Z, studying his face. The guy was significantly different from how he’d been in high school. Then again, they all were. But this man, he was hardened more than most. Somehow he’d managed to keep his sense of humor, but there was still something dangerous that lingered in Z’s dark brown eyes. He couldn’t imagine all that the guy had seen in his line of work. What Brendon had experienced with Cheyenne was more than enough drama for him.

“I’m hopin’ you’ll be back in town sometime soon,” Brendon told him. “Dinner on me next time you’re around.”

Z smiled. “You got it, bro.” Z’s eyes darted toward the house. “You might not see it yet, but you’ve got somethin’ special there.”

“Trust me,” Brendon said quietly, “I see it.”

Z nodded. “Don’t go and do somethin’ stupid and fuck it up.”

Brendon chuckled. “That’s my goal, no more fuckups.”

“And let that ol’ twin of yours know that if I don’t get an invite to the weddin’ I’m gonna come back here and kick his ass.”

“Will do.”

“Same with you,” Z added. “When you go and put a ring on that little gal’s finger, I expect to hear about it.”

Brendon smiled, but he couldn’t respond. As much as he wanted exactly that, he wasn’t sure it was in the cards. He and Cheyenne had some things to work through, but now that the threat to her was gone, there wasn’t anything left to do but figure it all out.

Z clapped Brendon on the back and moved to the steps. “I’ll catch ya later, man. It really was good to see you, although next time, let’s try hangin’ out without all the damn stalker bullshit.”

“Good plan,” Brendon told him, placing his hand on the post that held up the roof, watching one of his oldest friends walk away.

A second later, there was a soft hand on his back and Brendon looked to see Cheyenne standing beside him, waving at Z.

“All good?” he asked her.

“It will be.”

Brendon wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against his side.

He wished he felt as confident about that as she did.