Teasing Annie: The Temptation Saga: Book Two (12 page)

“
W
hat are you doing here
? You’re in violation of the restraining order I have against you. Not to mention your parole, Riggs.”

“Nothing can keep me from the woman I adore.” His words dripped with sarcasm. “I thought we could have a little chat.”

“I can’t imagine what about.”

“Well, let’s see. It’s seems to me, right around the time you had me arrested, your rich childless auntie died, leaving you a healthy little nest egg.”

“My rich childless auntie was neither rich nor childless. My share was insubstantial.”

“Be that as it may”—he stood, his large frame an imposing presence—“I want my half.”

“Half? You mean you’re not demanding all of it?”

His thin lips curled into a smirk. “I’ve always been fair with you, angel. You know you always got what you deserved with me.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Right, Riggs. Sorry to tell you, but the money’s gone.”

“What do you mean it’s gone?”

“Do you understand English? I said it’s gone. It wasn’t much, and I used it to move here and set up my clinic.”

“Well, then, I’ll take whatever you have. Give me your pocketbook.”

“Are you crazy?”

“I said, give me your pocketbook, bitch.” He advanced on her, grabbed her handbag, and pulled out her wallet. “Twenty-five dollars? I came all this way for twenty-five fucking dollars?”

“Hardly worth going back to prison for, was it?”

She didn’t see the sucker-punch coming.

“Damn.” She rubbed her chin. She should have known better. The thud of pain always came a few seconds afterward. That had always surprised her. She thought she’d feel it right away, but it was always delayed. She licked her lips and tasted the metallic tang of blood.

“We’ll just be taking a little trip to the ATM then,” Riggs said.

“Small town. No ATM.”

“Are you shittin’ me?”

“No.”

“The bank, then.”

“There’s nothing there.”

“What are you living on?”

“My credit card, what do you think? I’ve been here two weeks, Riggs. I’ve done a good business, but my first bills won’t even go out until next month.”

Riggs grabbed a fistful of her curls and forced her to the couch. “Then I’ll take my share out in trade, you stupid whore. I haven’t had a good fuck in months.” He ripped her blouse open. “You weren’t good for much, but damn, you were good for that.”

“
Y
ou
what
?
” Dusty demanded.

“I told her I didn’t want to hear her reasons,” Dallas said. “It’s not important.”

Dusty’s small hands clenched into fists. She and Zach had stopped by to check on the cattle, and after Dallas had explained everything, the subject of Dr. Annie had come up.

“You are the most stubborn idiot on this planet,” Dusty said, seething. “You have no idea what you’ve done. Do you know what that woman has been through?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dallas said calmly. “I never make the same mistake twice.”

“Punch him,” Dusty said to Zach. “Whoop his ass good. He deserves it.”

“Simmer down, darlin’,” Zach said. “God knows I’ve wanted to whoop his ass on many occasions, and I’ll be happy to oblige later, but first I need to know what the hell is going on.”

“You’re as bad as he is. Neither one of you understands anything!” Dusty paced the floor, her rosy cheeks turning bright red. “You grew up here, in luxury, with enough money to buy whatever you wanted. Two loving parents, never any problems. Well, this isn’t the real world. The real world has pain, and fear, and sadness, and sickness, and things that just aren’t fair!”

“Dusty—”

“No, Zach. I won’t calm down. Your brother just let a woman walk out of his life because he’s a short-sighted, pompous moron who claims to be a gentleman. Well, Dallas, a gentleman would have listened to his lady. You’re a fool.”

Dallas breathed steadily. His shattered heart ached in his chest, but he forced his voice to remain steady. “I had good reason for letting her go, Dusty.”

“Do you love her?”

“That’s not your concern.”

“Damn it, Dallas. Do you love her?”

He swallowed. Why lie? “Yes.”

“Oh!” Dusty rammed her fisted hands into Dallas’s chest. “You make me so damn mad! You have no idea what she’s been through, why she made the decisions she made.”

“And you do?”

“Yes. She told me everything. She cried in my arms, the poor thing. And you tossed her out like garbage. I hope you spend the rest of your life alone, Dallas McCray. It’s better than you deserve.”

“Dusty,” Zach said, pulling his wife away from his brother. “What did Annie tell you?”

“I won’t break her confidence.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said, “but don’t you think you should tell Dallas?”

“No, I don’t. He doesn’t care, and I gave Annie my word.”

“She tried to tell me this afternoon,” Dallas said. “I wouldn’t listen.”

“You’re a fool.”

“Maybe I am. Was it bad?”

“Was it bad? You really haven’t got a clue, do you? Do you think every woman is like Chelsea? Deceptive and shallow?”

“Damn it, Dusty, answer me. Was it bad?”

“It was the worst, and I’ve got news for you. I would have done the same thing in her shoes. Maybe even worse, come to think of it.” Two tears streamed down Dusty’s crimson cheeks. “Sometimes life deals you a rotten hand, and you find yourself willing to do things you never thought you’d do to get out of it.” She sniffed and took the red bandana Zach offered her. “When I got sick, I remember thinking I’d do anything to be well. I mean anything. Deceptive. Illegal. I didn’t care. I would have sold my soul to the devil himself if it would have made me well again.” She wiped her eyes. “Neither of you will ever understand that because you’ve both had silver spoons in your mouths your whole lives!”

“Her marriage was bad, huh?” Zach said.

“Yes. Of course it was. I can tell you that much. It was worse than bad.”

“Then why did she stay in it?”

“Probably for the same reason Dallas stayed with Chelsea for ten years. She didn’t want to fail at what was supposed to be the most important relationship of her life.” She turned her angry eyes on Dallas. “You’re more alike than you think you are, you and Annie. You two were a match made in heaven, and you threw her away.”

“God,” Dallas said, his stomach knotting. “He hurt her, didn’t he?”

Dusty nodded. “I won’t say any more than that. I can’t believe this never occurred to you.”

Visions of Annie’s beautiful body lying battered tormented Dallas’s mind. His body trembled and his stomach lurched. For a moment, he thought he was going to be sick. “I don’t understand how a man could hurt a woman. His wife. A cowboy wouldn’t. A gentleman wouldn’t.”

“God, you two have been so sheltered!” Dusty ranted. “You make me sick! Not all men are gentlemen, Dallas. And I hate to break it to you, not all cowboys are either. You know this. You’re not stupid.”

“She seems so together. So strong.” Dallas shook his head. “Like she hasn’t had any bad stuff in her life.” How could he have been so wrong?

“What do you want her to do? Sit around wallowing in self-pity? Where would I be if I had done that?”

“Damn,” Dallas said. “Damn.”

“You should have let her explain. She’s not Chelsea, Dallas. She’s Annie. She’s sweet, and kind, and smart, and wonderful. She has so much to give, and she wanted to give it to you. And you sent her away.”

“Shit.” Dallas plunked down in a chair and cupping his head in his hands. “What have I done?”

“Sounds like you’ve fucked up, brother,” Zach said. “Royally. Course it’s not the first time.”

“Can it, Zach, and help me figure out what to do.”

“Damn, you
are
dense. Go after her, for God’s sake.”

“Right. Go after her. I’ll go after her. Oh my God, what if she won’t have me?” The fear of it sank into his heart like a rusty blade.

“I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t,” Dusty said, “after the way you’ve treated her.”

“Neither would I,” Dallas admitted. “She’s got to listen to me. She’s just got to.” He picked up his cell phone and dialed her number. No response. “That’s odd,” he said. “She always picks up her cell. She never wants to miss a sick animal.”

“The battery’s probably dead. Besides, you should see her in person,” Zach said. “Groveling is much more effective that way.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dallas whistled for Jet. “You’re coming with me, Buddy. She’s a sucker for you.” He gave his dog a pat on the head. “I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

R
iggs hadn’t raped her
. He hadn’t been able to get an erection, thank God. Instead, he had beaten her. She drifted in and out of consciousness in the backseat of a moving car. Every muscle in her body ached, but at least she hadn’t had to have sex with him. He had punished her for it, but she’d rather have the pain than the humiliation of knowing he’d violated her sexually. Now, tied and gagged, she had no idea where she was going.

He would kill her. Of that she was certain. The beating hadn’t been bad, come to think of it. She’d suffered much worse in the past. When she fought back. Today, she hadn’t had the strength or the desire to fight back. Funny. If she’d lain like a dead fish that last time, she probably wouldn’t have spent so much time in the hospital.

Yes, he would kill her. He had violated his parole and he had battered her. He couldn’t afford to leave any witnesses alive. No one would look for her. Dallas had sent her away. No one would even know she was gone until the next person walked into the clinic with an animal. Even then, in a small town, people would think she had just closed up for a little while.

There was really no hope.

Her life would end, and no one would know.

Or give a damn.

A
nnie wasn’t
in the clinic, so Dallas walked to the back of the building and went up to her apartment. When she didn’t answer his knock, he tried the door, surprised to find it open. “Well, Buddy,” he said to Jet, “we’ll just go on in and wait for her. Maybe we can make her a pot of herb tea.”

Dallas entered the apartment, Jet at his heels. He looked around. Nothing seemed amiss, but the knife in his gut told him something wasn’t right. He gazed over the living area, looking for something, anything, out of place.

He found it. Her cell phone. It lay on the couch, partially buried underneath a cushion. Annie never went anywhere without her phone. He picked it up and looked around. There, thrown in a corner, was her handbag. Dallas dug through it. He found her wallet, but it contained no cash or credit cards.

His bowels clenched as worry and fear poured into him. Something had happened to her. He quickly dialed Dusty.

“Hello?”

“Dusty, it’s Dallas. I’m at Annie’s. She’s not here, but her cell phone and purse are. I’m afraid something has happened to her. Please. I know you gave her your word, but I need to know anything she told you that might help me figure out where to find her.”

“Oh God, Dallas.”

“What? Tell me!”

“Her ex-husband. He was in prison for what he did to her, but he was released a few days ago. On parole.”

His heart thumped. “Fuck. Anything else?”

“Just that you’d better find her. And fast. I’ll call Zach and Chad. You call Doug. We need the authorities on this.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dallas raked his hands through his hair, his nerves tightening. Knots turned and twisted in his stomach. Damn, he was going to be ill. He swallowed and willed away the nausea.
Annie. Concentrate on Annie.

Once he had called Doug, he went into Annie’s bedroom. She had unpacked several more boxes since he had been there last. Particularly interesting was her veterinary doctorate.
Annalisa DeSimone Riggs.

Her married name.

He shot back into the living room and picked up her cell phone. Not much battery left, but enough to check her contacts. Ma and Pop. Lillian. Macy. Drew. None of the names rang a bell. She had friends he didn’t even know about. He barely knew the woman he loved. But he’d get to know her. He’d get her back and learn everything about her, and accept and love every single detail, no matter what it was.

He continued flipping through the list.
Riggs
. There it was. No first name. Could it really be that easy? He dialed the number. It rang several times before clicking into voice mail. “This is Riggs. You know what do.”

Dallas clicked off the phone and dialed the number again.

“Yeah?” An exasperated low voice growled.

“Riggs.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“I need to speak to Annie.”

A pause. Then, “Who the fuck is this?”

“Is she okay?”

“You tell me who the fuck you are, asshole.”

“A friend of hers. Please. I need to know if she’s all right.”

“What makes you think I have her?”

“Give me a little credit. You don’t want to go back to prison, do you?”

“This conversation is over, pal.”

“No! Please, don’t hang up. I… I have money. I’ll give you whatever you want. Plane tickets. A car. Whatever. Just please don’t hurt her.”

“You must think I’m some kind of moron. How do I know you’re on the level?”

“You don’t. But the cops are after you. They’ll find you eventually. I don’t care about finding you. All I care about is Annie. Please.”

“I need a hundred thou. Cash. And a new car. Untraceable. Can you handle that?”

“Not until I know Annie’s safe.”

“She’s fine. She’s in the backseat of my car. Out cold.”

Dallas’s gut clenched. The son of a bitch had hurt her. This was not going to end well for him. He took a deep breath. He had to keep his cool for her. “I want to talk to her.”

“I told you, she’s out cold.”

“Pull over and wake her up. Until you can prove you have her and she’s okay, you get nothing from me.”

“Christ. Fine. Give me a few minutes.”

Dallas’s heart raced, and he prayed the line would hold. God only knew where Riggs and Annie were. They could drive out of cell phone range at any time.

After several minutes of agony, Dallas finally heard her voice. “Hello?”

It was her. He’d know that sweet husky Jersey accent anywhere. His heart leaped. “Annie. Oh God, Annie. It’s me. Dallas. I love you. I love you, Doc. Are you all right?”

“Touching,” Riggs said. “But she didn’t hear any of it. I took the phone from her as soon as she said hello.”

“You fucking son of a bitch!”

“Don’t get testy with me, boy. I have something you want, obviously. Who’d have thought the little bitch would rope another sucker into loving her?” Riggs laughed eerily. “I see she’s worth much more than I imagined. But I’m not one to be greedy. I believe the price was a hundred K and a car.”

“Done. Where can I pick up Annie?”

“I’ve done time, friend. I’m not stupid. You bring the car and the cash to me. Make sure the tank is full.”

“Fine. Name the place. You’re holding all the cards here, Riggs. All I want is Annie. But”—he forced the next words out between clenched teeth—“if you so much as touch another hair on her head, the deal is off.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll be good as new within a day or two. She always had spirit, that one. Bounced right back. Never could break her. The bitch.”

The anger jolted into Dallas like red heat. How dare he talk about Annie like that?
Damn it, Dallas. Stay focused
. “Just give me the drop off point, Riggs. I’ll bring the car and the cash.”

“I’m on Highway thirty-seven. Just crossed the New Mexico border. There’s a town called Foghorn a few miles away. I’ll stop there. You call this number when you get there. And friend?”

I’m not your friend, asshole
. “What?”

“You call the cops, and the deal’s off.”

“Understood.” Dallas flipped the phone shut. He wished he hadn’t called Doug. Should he stay here and wait for the sheriff to arrive, or should he leave for Foghorn?

Leave for Foghorn. He’d get to Annie. The cops would just spook Riggs.

Annie. God, Annie. How he loved her.

When he and Jet were in the car, he gunned the engine and headed back toward his home. He ran into the house and into his study, quickly opening the safe on the wall behind the portrait of his parents. He counted out $100,000 in bills, placed them in a briefcase, and grabbed something else out of his safe.

His sharpshooter pistol. He called it Jake.

Dallas McCray was a champion marksman, and he had no intention of letting Riggs get away.

H
ad
she talked to someone on the phone? Annie twisted through the haze in her mind, trying to make sense of what had happened. Riggs had held the phone to her ear. Just as quickly, it was gone. She had said hello. Hadn’t she?

Didn’t matter anyway. Riggs had replaced her gag, and now she lay across the backseat of the car, jostling uncomfortably with each bump in what must be a dirt road.

How? How had it come to this?

Logan Riggs had been a kind man once. A handsome, kind man who had swept Annie off her feet.

She opened one eye and then the other. As the cloudiness subsided, the blur that was Riggs faded slowly into focus.
Odd
. Same tawny hair and light brown eyes. Same long nose and full mouth. Same neck corded with muscle. He was still handsome. Nearly as handsome as when he had first swept her off her feet nine years before, during her first year of vet school. He had dreams then. Or so he had said. Dreams of making it big in the casino industry. He had worked his way up into mid-level management of one of the biggest hotel and casino companies in Atlantic City. Annie had married him the summer before her last year of vet school, and they had been happy for a little while.

But then the gambling.

And after that, the drinking.

The gambling debts made him angry, unnerved, and the drink took that angry nervousness and turned it into violence. Violence directed toward her.

At first it was only the occasional slap. Then the tearful apology. When she suffered a miscarriage, he blamed her. After her D and C, her stomach cramping from the procedure, he had punched her in the gut. The next day she called her doctor and went back on the pill.

A rational decision. Of course, the better decision would have been to leave Riggs. Over and over she had berated herself for letting it go on as long as it had. She had fallen out of love with him. He had hurt her. He had stolen from her. Yet still she had stayed. For more abuse. Things would get better, he told her. I love you, he told her. I’m so sorry. Over and over again. He was sorry.

Annie closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as hard as she could, trying to block out the memories that came blazing back from the deep recesses of her mind.

Like a curtain parting, revealing the final act of a play.

O
n the third
anniversary of her marriage to Logan Riggs, Annie sat on her couch with a mug of chamomile tea, looking through her wedding album. Riggs had been happy that day. His eyes shone with dedication, with love. He had cut his unruly tawny hair at Annie’s mother’s request. It lay cropped above his ears, his small diamond ear stud visible even in the smaller pictures. Annie had loved the diamond stud. Clad in a basic black tuxedo, he looked as though he had stepped out of the pages of GQ Magazine.

Annie wore an ivory sheath. Her mother had warned her against white. It would make Annie’s pale skin look washed out, Sylvia had said. So ivory it was, with a beaded sweetheart neckline and a slim skirt that accentuated Annie’s curves. Her long dark hair was swept off her neck into an elaborate cascade of curls falling down her bare back. Riggs had caressed her back during their first dance as man and wife, his fingers as gentle as a dove’s wings feathering across her white skin. During their photography session at the reception, when he stood behind her, he had moved her hair to the side and brushed his lips over her neck and shoulders.

Yes, he had loved her. Part of her believed he still did. He said it often enough. Yet, if he truly loved her, why did he let himself lose control? He hadn’t hurt her badly. Never any real damage. But why?

The timer on the oven snapped her out of her wedding daydream. Her Osso Bucco. An anniversary treat for Riggs. For the last several weeks, he had been calm and devoted. Calling when he would be late. Treading softly when he came in so he wouldn’t wake her. Thanking her for her work around the house. Asking about the animals she treated. An effort. He was making an effort.

She would reward him with a gourmet Italian feast. Osso Bucco. Risotto Calabrese. Focaccia with three cheeses. Artichoke and fennel salad. And for dessert, her mother’s creamy cannolis. She smiled, thinking about the cannolis. Riggs had never once asked her to make Tiramisu. She loved him for that.

The robust aroma of garlic and veal wafted out of the oven as Annie set the meat on a trivet and covered it with foil to rest. She turned on the burner under the pan of risotto and went to work on her salad. She was slicing a bulb of fennel when she heard the garage door open. She smiled. Riggs might not be the perfect husband, but he did love her cooking. Although he had voiced his share of complaints during their short marriage, he had never once criticized any of her meals.

He entered the kitchen from the garage, and Annie, still smiling, looked up at him.

Uh-oh. Something had gone wrong. His pursed lips formed a line below his nose, and his ears were red.

When Riggs was angry, his ears always turned red.

Annie put down the fennel and wiped her hand. “Happy anniversary,” she said and held out her arms.

“What’s so fucking happy about it? Two years of being saddled with you?”

Annie breathed deeply, trying not to let his words hurt her. “Three years, actually.”

“God. It’s been three? I’m a glutton for punishment. What’s that awful smell?”

“What smell?”

“Veal. It’s veal. Christ, I hate veal.”

“You don’t hate veal. I just made veal piccata last week and you ate two help—”

Slap. Right across the face. A few minutes of numbness, and then stinging pain. Annie didn’t fall.

“Jesus, Riggs. It’s our anniversary.” She willed herself not to cry, but her eyes misted anyway.

“If say I hate veal, I hate veal, you stupid tramp.”

“But I made a special dinner for our anniversary. Osso Bucco. It’s my mother’s recipe.”

“Why would I want to eat anything your bitch mother serves, huh?” He slammed his fist onto the counter.

Annie backed away. “What happened today? Why are you so upset?”

“Like you care.”

“Of course I care. I’m your wife.”

“True.” He looked at her lasciviously. “I think I’ll take some conjugal rights. Now.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his body, knocking the wind out of her lungs. He slammed his mouth onto her and bit her, drawing blood.

She pushed at him, but he was too strong. “Riggs,” she said, when he lifted his head to breathe. “Not like this. Please. Let’s have our celebration dinner. We can…talk. You can tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.”

“Talk? Talk? I want to fuck.” He pushed her to the floor. “But I can’t fuck with this disgusting smell in here!” He grabbed the glass pan of Osso Busco from the counter. “It’s hot, goddamnit!” He threw the pan at Annie’s face.

“Auugghhh!” she cried. The heavy hardness of the glass knocked into her forehead and fell to her chest, and the hot meat seared her eyelids and cheeks.

Scarred. Her face would be scarred. She had never been vain, but the thought of losing her beauty at her husband’s hand was too much to bear. The heat of anger flowed into her veins. She grabbed the glass pan, as yet unbroken, and stood up, her head woozy. She rushed at him, forced her arms from her body with as much energy as she could muster, and hit Riggs on the head with the glass pan.