Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4) (42 page)

And turning her face
into the solid wall of his chest, Honor quickly decided that in the shelter of
his embrace might be her new favorite place to hide.

Zeke

The sound of her
screams slammed into his gut with the force of a freight train.  Even with his
windows rolled up, he’d heard those raw, wounded sounds coming from her as soon
as he’d whipped his SUV into the parking lot, taking the turn on two wheels
despite his brother’s growl from the passenger seat.

He didn’t have time
to worry about Ice’s criticism of his driving skill though.

Right now, he needed
to get to his woman and hold her against him until those tortured wails
stopped.  Leaving his engine running, he’d barely jerked the gearshift into
park before his feet hit the pavement and his long strides quickly ate the
distance between himself and where Honor stood.  Making a rough sound in his
throat as he watched her knees begin to buckle and her body start to crumple to
the ground, he growled when he saw his deputy wrap a hand around her waist to
keep her upright. 

Mouth tight, Zeke
stomped toward them, keeping his eyes glued to the man holding Honor as she
cried.  He liked Jeb Hightower alright on most days of the week.  The guy was a
decent man and a qualified officer, always willing to pull an extra shift if it
meant Honor would have some extra coverage.  In spite of all that, however, the
sight of the other man’s hands touching the woman Zeke loved was enough to make
him slightly homicidal.  Honor was his, damn it.  The idea of anyone else
touching what belonged to him – no matter how well-intentioned- made him see
red.

Glaring at his deputy
when Zeke finally reached them, he quickly reached for Honor, withdrawing her
from the other man’s arms and pulling her into him as he cradled her like she
was the most precious thing on Earth.  “What the fuck happened here,
Hightower?  Explain to me why the hell my woman is in this state!” he demanded
on a snarl at the younger man, his bright eyes promising fast retribution to
whoever had sent Honor spiraling into the dark place where she was now
trapped.  Silently vowing to God that when he found whoever was responsible for
this clusterfuck, he was going to make them pay.  There wouldn’t be enough
ashes left of them to fill a coffee can when he was finished.

Hightower’s gaze
shifted guiltily between where Honor softly sobbed into the sheriff’s chest,
her back hitching slightly with every breath she took, to Zeke’s stony face as
he murmured something inaudible against Honor’s temple.  Shaking his head, he
ran a hand over the back of his neck.  “It’s on me, Zeke.  This is on me,” he
admitted apologetically.

“You better hope like
all fuck that isn’t true, man,” Zeke bit off, his arms automatically tightening
around the woman in his grip.

“Zeke…” Ice’s deep
voice admonished from somewhere behind the sheriff.  “Let the guy tell us what
went on here before you start making plans to rip his head off.  I doubt seeing
that
will help Honor at all.”

Turning to narrow
irritated eyes on his big brother, Zeke’s jaw clenched.  The fucker wouldn’t be
so calm if it was
his
woman crying in his arms, he thought irritably. 
Frustration built within Zeke, and he knew that much like a pressure cooker,
eventually he was going to blow his lid.  And Ice was right; the last thing he
wanted was for Honor to witness
that. 
She was obviously shaken up
enough.  So, pulling his self-control around him like a cloak, he jerked his
head up and down in a nod.  “You’re right,” he stated with terse acceptance
before turning back to the deputy that’d been responsible for Honor’s safety.  

Holding his girl in
the circle of his arms, he reminded himself that Hightower had done
something
right.
Honor was distressed, but physically unharmed, and that counted for
a lot in his book.  Taking a deep breath, he focused on his officer again. 
“Sorry, Jeb.  Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I’ll tell you what’s
goin’ on,” Honor finally spoke, tilting her tear soaked face back to look up at
Zeke.  “I’m moving!  To Taiwan.  Or Tibet!  Monks are better than monsters any
day of the week.  Seriously, I’m open to anywhere as long as the place doesn’t
have monsters breeding faster than mice!”

Ignoring his
brother’s low chuckle, Zeke lifted his hands to cup her wet cheeks.  “You
really think I’m gonna let you leave me after last night?  Not likely.  Now,
why don’t you or Jeb tell me what’s gone on here this morning, baby?” he
suggested.  “Then, I’ll see what I can do about handling it.”

Honor sighed and
leaned her body against his chest again before twisting her head to look at
Deputy Hightower.  “He’s gonna lose his mind,” she warned the man grimly.

Jeb nodded. 
“Probably so, but he needs to be aware of everything, Miss Honor,” he replied
before raising the red piece of construction paper up so that Zeke could see
the perverted poem typed there.

“What in the
actual
fuck,” Zeke hissed, his eyes narrowing on the threatening words as he read.

“He knows you call me
‘Kitten’, Zeke,” Honor whispered, her arms tightening around Zeke’s waist as
she squeezed her eyes closed. “He’s close.”

Curbing his rage,
Zeke swallowed.  “Baby, if the bastard has been in Paradise more than five
minutes, he’s known for awhile now that’s what I call you.  Been doin’ it since
you were sixteen years old.  Word’s gotten around, honey.”  Turning his
attention back to his deputy, Zeke stared at Jeb with stormy eyes.  “How’d he
slip through to get close enough to her to leave this piece of crap for her to
find,” he growled, lifting his chin to indicate the poem. 

“All I can figure is
that he made his move when there was a semi stalled in the middle of the
street,” Deputy Hightower responded, lifting an arm to point to the space where
he’d parallel parked his cruiser across the road.  Whoever this is that we’re
dealing with here, he’s a clever fucker, Sheriff.  It’s like he was just patiently
waiting for an opportunity to strike.  Luckily, Miss Honor was still inside
with her doctor.”

“No, he meant for her
to find this.  It’s why he wrote it.  He didn’t want her, per se.  He wanted to
scare her.”

“It worked,” Honor’s
muffled voice claimed as she burrowed closer to Zeke.  “I’m terrified.  Mostly
because I’m convinced my stalker is my rapist now,” she further shared.

Zeke’s heart skipped
a beat at that assertion and he bent his head to hear her better.  “Why? What
makes you say that?”

“He calls me
‘Pussycat in that poem, and I remembered, Zeke,” she choked, pressing herself
further into the curve of Zeke’s body almost like she was trying to crawl
inside his skin.  “I wish I could forget again, but I can’t.  I remember.”

“What, baby?  What’d
you remember?”

“Reading those words
musta triggered one of my memories because I can remember one of ‘em calling me
that the night they… the night they took me.  I can still hear him saying that
he liked it when I clawed and spit at him,” she wept. 

Burrowing one hand in
her long, thick hair, his fingers tightened on her scalp as he held her against
him.  “Fuckin’ hell,” he cursed, meeting his brother’s dangerously glittering
eyes with a wild eyed look of his own above Honor’s head.  “I want this
bastard, Ice.  I want this fucker to hurt.”

“Steady, brother,”
Ice counseled, nodding his head toward Honor.  “We’ll get him.”

Zeke nodded stiffly
at his sibling, silently thankful that Ice had stopped by the station to share
a cup of coffee and a conversation on his day off from the construction site he
was working on this week.  Since Zeke had been staying with Honor again, he
hadn’t seen much of his brother.  Between Honor and their work, they’d both
been busy. This morning Ice had stopped by the office and caught Zeke in one of
his rare unoccupied moments.  So, when Zeke had heard Deputy Hightower’s
officer-in-need-of-assistance call, Ice had been right there, and his brother
hadn’t wasted any time following Zeke to his ride.

“Why don’t I take a
walk through those woods back there,” Ice went on to suggest, his shrewd eyes
scanning the tree line on the west end of the parking lot.  “If this asshole
went through there, I might be able to track him.  I find something; I’ll call
it in.”

Zeke nodded.  “Want
me to call in Slade?” he asked, privately thinking Honor’s cousin might have
better luck than Ice when it came to looking for tracks.  His brother had been
a sniper for the Army and was magic with a gun, but Slade was a trained Navy
Seal with a specialty in reconnaissance. 

Clearing his throat,
Ice shook his head slightly.  “Uh, Slade was a little under the weather when I
talked to him last night, man.”

“What?” Zeke grunted
impatiently.  “I’ll tell him to pop a Tylenol then,” he growled.  “This is
important.”

Honor lifted her head
to find Zeke shooting a harsh look at his brother.  Patting a hand against his
chest, she shook her head and sniffled.  “I think what your brother means is
that Slade tied another one on last night, Ezekiel.”  Looking at Ice, she
sighed.  “I’m right, aren’t I?  He’s drinking heavily again, isn’t he?”

Ice grimaced.  “Man’s
got ghosts in his past that haunt him, sweetheart.  You can’t blame him for
tryin’ to escape ‘em for a while.”

“I tried to get him
to see that doctor that Cain saw for his PTSD,” she muttered, mentioning her
brother-in-law.   “He wouldn’t hear of it.”

“Cain only agreed to
talk to somebody because he wanted Faith back in his life and his bed after he
broke her heart while he was in Afghanistan.  Slade doesn’t have that kind of
incentive,” Zeke explained.

“Still…” Honor began
worriedly.

“I can look in on
Slade this afternoon, Honor.  You focus on you right now,” Ice interrupted. 
“For now, though, I need to get in those woods.”

Eyes going to the
pistol clipped to his brother’s side, Zeke nodded his agreement.  “Call in if
you need backup.”

“Will do,” Ice
returned before turning to jog toward the tree line. 

“While he does that,
Jeb, I want you to get that fuckin’ paper bagged, tagged and sent over to the
crime lab.  I don’t expect to get lucky but maybe they’ll be able to find
something useful on it.  A fingerprint would be nice.  I’ll take over watching
over Honor.”

“No,” Honor denied,
shaking her head as she lifted her hands to wipe her cheeks.  “I’m fine.  Just
drop me off at the diner and go to work, Zeke.”

“Like hell.  You’ve
had a fright.  I’m takin’ you home and you’re gonna rest for a bit before one
of those headaches start.  Maybe we can head one off with an aspirin and a
nap.”

“I’m going to be
okay, Zeke.  I don’t want to give this bastard any more power over me than he’s
already gotten.  Those men… they’ve stolen enough of my life away from me.  I
refuse to let them intimidate me into hiding.  I’m better than that.”

Zeke smiled.  A year
ago… hell, even a month ago, he couldn’t have imagined his beautiful girl
saying anything like that to him.  Quite the contrary.  She’d probably have
hidden in her house for days if she’d felt threatened.  But therapy had
strengthened her resolve and while he knew she wasn’t fearless (because that
would be stupid and his Honor was anything but dumb)…. she was courageous
enough to get on with the business of living.

“What?” she
questioned suspiciously a few seconds later when he remained silent. “Why are
you looking at me like that?”

“Because I’m proud of
you, baby.  You’re scared, but you’re so damn brave.  You know it would be
easier to hide, but you’re not gonna do it.”

“I’ve wasted almost
half my life hiding, Zeke.  I allowed my youth to pass me by because I was
afraid something else bad would happen to me.  I’ve lived terrified that those
remaining men would find me and finish what they started all those years ago. 
And now they have.  Hiding didn’t stop it from happening.  So, I’m done with
that,” she said softly.  “I might never be a risk taker, but I refuse to be a
coward any longer.”

“You were
never a
coward
, Honor.”

“What would you call
it then?” she asked, looking up at him with sad eyes.

“I’d call you a
survivor, baby.  You survived the best way you could until you were strong enough
to take a different path.  Don’t you ever bash yourself for doing what you
needed to do to keep yourself sane.  Not unless the idea of me paddling your
round ass turns you on.”

“It does
not
,”
Honor retorted, blushing faintly.

“Then don’t badmouth
yourself.  It pisses me off.”

Honor rolled her
eyes.  “Can we go to the café now?” she questioned impatiently.  “I wanna lose
myself in my baking and clear my head.  I feel a chocolate crème pie craze
comin’ on fast.”

Dropping a kiss
against her forehead, Zeke nodded. “Yeah, baby.  I’ll take you to the café. 
But while you’re bakin’ and clearin’ that head of yours, I’ll be right there
beside you in the kitchen.”

“Why?” Honor tilted
her head and stared at him.

“Haven’t you figured
it out yet, Kitten?  Right beside you is where I was always meant to be.”