Retreat (8 page)

    
Go to hell, she thought, trying to ignore
his acrimonious tone, which caused her hands to tremble as she tried to lift
the first suitcase. She quickly discovered it was too heavy to carry so she
dragged it backwards down the stairs, bumping loudly on each of the sixteen
steps. She propped it up next to the banister and went back up for the second
one. As she came down the stairs with it, David was standing in the foyer
staring up at her.

    
“You look like you could use some help with
that babe,” he said as he pulled his leg back and kicked the suitcase over that
she’d placed at the bottom of the steps. “That suitcase is bigger than you
are.”

    
She paused for a moment on the steps but
didn’t say anything. She considered laying into him for acting like an asshole
but then thought better of it. She just wanted to get out of there without
another scene.

    
That wasn’t going to happen.

    
She was dragging the largest suitcase
toward the kitchen door when he came up behind her and put a heavy hand on her
slender shoulder, trapping some of her hair beneath his ruddy fingers. She
tried to shake his hand off but he clamped down harder.

    
“What?” she demanded, letting go of the
suitcase and turning to face him.

    
David smiled wickedly, showing perfectly
straight teeth. She shivered at the new-found hardness in his hazel eyes.

    
“What’s wrong, baby? Are you afraid?” he
menaced, moving closer to her.

    
She stepped back, almost tripping over the
suitcase, then steadied herself.

    
“Of you? Please,” she lied. “I know you
would never hurt me.”

    
She hoped her expression of faith in his
peaceful nature would force him to hold himself back. She honestly wasn’t sure
what he would do. This wasn’t the same man who’d lounged so calmly on the couch
the night before.

    
He dropped his hand from her shoulder. She
tried to mask her relief as she picked the suitcase back up and opened the door
leading out to the garage.

    
“You should be,” he threatened.

    
“What?” she asked, confused.

    
“Afraid.”

    
“Well I’m not,” she called as she walked
out the door. She leaned the suitcase up against the side of her trunk and went
back inside to get the other one from the stairs.

    
He wasn’t smiling anymore. His jaw was set
in determination.

    
“Did you think I’d let you just walk out of
here?” he chided. “You can’t make it out there on your own, remember? You need
me.”

    
“That’s what I let you think anyway. You
don’t have a choice in this,” she said, trying to regard him like he was a
nothing more than a waste of time as he followed her through the house. She
couldn’t believe he thought she was helpless without him. “For the record I did
just fine on my own before I ever met you.”

    
“Then you owe me.”

    
“I owe you nothing,” she said, picking up
the second suitcase and heading toward the door. “Everything you did for me you
did of your own free will. I never asked you for a thing. In fact, whenever I
tried to pay my own way on anything you were the one who wouldn’t hear of it.”

    
David acted like he didn’t hear her. “I’ve
been supporting your sweet little ass for quite a while. You owe me,” he said,
grabbing her arms and pushing her up against the counter. “It’s time to pay
up.”

    
The suitcase slipped from her grasp as a
sharp pain rippled through her back. The liquor on his breath was warm and
sweet. She suddenly felt sick.

    
“Let me go,” she said, anger surging inside
her as she tried to break free. He held her tighter.

    
This is new, she thought. She’d never
considered how strong he was. She supposed she knew but he’d always been so
docile. This was a changed man in front of her. She could see his blood
pounding through the veins in his thick neck.

    
“I always knew you were a fighter,” he
said, thrusting his hand into her blue blouse and roughly cupping her breast.

    
She stopped fighting and gaped at him, eyes
wide, realizing what he planned to do.

    
“You want to have sex with me?” she asked,
incredulous.

    
“Yes,” he hissed.

    
“Unbelievable,” she said, shaking her head
as a nervous laugh slipped out.

    
“You think this is some kind of a joke?”
David practically barked. The redness in his neck boiled up to his ears.

    
She’d insulted his manhood. Well, good.

    
“You have to admit it is kind of funny,”
she said, trying to sound unafraid even though she was terrified. “I mean, for
the past six months I’ve practically had to beg you for sex and now here you
are trying to be all macho with me. I don’t buy it. Let me go and we can both
get on with our lives.”

    
He smacked her hard across the face.

    
Tiny white lights swirled in front of her
eyes but she stayed with him, livid that he would hit her. She was not that
kind of girl thank you very much. She damned well wasn’t about to let him knock
her out. She couldn’t fight if she was unconscious.

    
“You like that?” he grunted. “You think you
had to beg before? You just wait until I …” he broke off, listening.

    
Her cell phone was ringing. It was muffled
in her purse, but it was definitely ringing. She let out a little breath that
sounded like a whistle.

    
“Who is it?” he asked her, giving her a
hard shake against the counter.

    
“How the hell should I know?” she asked,
grimacing from the pain in her back. “The phone’s in my purse.”

    
He pushed her to the floor and walked over
to her purse on the chair. He pulled the cell phone out of the front pocket.

    
“It’s a Texas area code,” he said. “Who is it?”

    
“I told you, I don’t…”

    
He was answering the phone. She struggled
to her feet and grabbed a steak knife from the drawer in the island, passing
over the butcher knife in favor of the smaller, serrated one. Clara wasn’t much
on knives but she figured she could at least get a decent jab in with the
shorter one if she had to. Her only goal was her purse, which held her car keys
and her wallet. She knew she’d have to fight him for it.

    
And she intended to win.

    
“Jon Griffin. I should have known,” he said
as his gaze returned to Clara. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you the one
she fucked at the hotel last night?”

    
Clara’s heart sank. Just what she needed on
top of everything else. For Jon to think she’d told David that.

    
“Hurt her? No. Never. I’m just going to
have a little fun with her. Isn’t that right baby? Aren’t we having fun? Tell
your old boyfriend how much fun you’re having.”

    
Clara shook her head and shot him the
nastiest look she could muster. “Asshole,” she said under her breath.

    
“What’s that? Oh you want to talk to her?
Sorry, she’s …let’s just say she’s tied up at the moment,” David said, walking
toward her. She held the knife steady out in front of her. “And I don’t think
she’ll be available for you for quite a while once I’m finished with her. I
doubt she’ll want to be with anyone for a long…”

    
“Call the police, Jon!” she yelled as she
carefully walked around David, holding him off with the knife. “Call the
police!”

    
David grunted a sarcastic laugh into the
phone, shaking his head and glancing out the window into the blue Tulsa sky. “You’re in Fort Worth, buddy … you
can’t do shit. Even if you left now it’d take you at least four hours to get
here. In four hours she won’t even remember your name.”

    
Clara backed up toward the door and
snatched her purse from the chair. She slipped through the opening and made a
break for the garage. She’d almost reached her car when he yanked her back hard
by the hair. She cried out in pain.

    
“You hear that,” David barked into the
phone. “Say goodbye to your little girlfriend.” He flipped the phone closed and
slammed it to the cement floor of the garage, where it shattered into several
pieces.

    
David reached around to grab her with both
arms but Clara struck first, slashing his left hand with the knife. He yelped
and grabbed his injured hand, giving her just enough time to get into her car
and lock the doors. He was banging on the window with his bloody hand as she
fumbled to get the keys out of her purse and into the ignition.

    
Clara glanced up when he stopped banging.

    
As she slammed the car into reverse he
picked up a hammer and hit the button to close the garage door. She felt it
touch the roof of her car and reverse back up as she backed out. She threw the
car into first gear, squealing the tires as she hit the gas. She looked in the
rearview mirror to see him on the driveway, shaking the hammer at her with his
bloody fist.

    
Clara was shaking so badly she could barely
keep the car on the road. Blood from his hand was smeared on the driver’s side
window, making her stomach churn. Her blue eyes stung with tears.

    
Stop it, she chastised herself. Settle.
You’re out.

    
She had to stop the car. Her legs were in a
spasm, making it nearly impossible to press down the clutch. She took a deep
breath and tried to calm down. She couldn’t stop. He might be right behind her.
She had to drive.

    
David was standing in the kitchen holding
the bourbon bottle in his bandaged hand when Jon burst through the door yelling
for Clara.

    
“You son of a bitch,” he said when he
spotted David. “Where is she?”

    
“Jon Griffin,” David said, a smile edging
his lips. “You should have told me you were coming. I’d have made sure my gun was
out of its case. What did you do? Fly up here?”

    
“Where is she?” Jon asked, grabbing David
by the sweater. “What did you do with her?”

    
“She’s not here,” David replied calmly, a
wicked sense of accomplishment flashing through his hazel eyes. “But the cops
were. Thanks for sending them. I told them how your little bitch attacked me
with a knife. I think they want to talk to her, so if you see her ….”

    
“You’re lying,” Jon said, tightening his
grip.

    
“No, I’m not,” David said, trying to push
Jon away. “She left a few hours ago. The moment I was through with her. For
some reason she didn’t feel like sticking around.”

    
“Where is she?” Jon demanded, anger surging
through him as he studied David’s grizzled face.

    
“How the hell should I know?”

    
“What did you do to her?”

    
“Nothing you haven’t done,” David shrugged.

    
“I never forced her,” Jon said. It took
every ounce of self-control he had not to rip the asshole’s throat out with his
bare hands.

    
“Pity,” David said, baiting him. “I think
she liked it.”

    
Jon punched him hard, knocking him down,
his head slamming into the counter. He stayed down for a moment, then leered up
at Jon, shock turning to amusement as blood streamed from his bottom lip.

    
“You really care about her,” David laughed.

    
“Why don’t you? You were supposed to be
marrying her, you son of a bitch.”

    
“You still care about her. Even after all
this time?”

    
“How do you know how much time has passed?
She never even told you about us,” Jon said.

    
“She didn’t have to,” David said. “I
already knew.”

    
“What are you talking about?”

    
“You don’t remember me.”

    
Jon scowled at him impatiently. “I’ve never
met you.”

    
“Yes, you did. Eight years ago,” he said,
standing up and rubbing the back of his head. “You dismantled my father’s
company.”