Identical Threat Page 3

  However, not even the faintest trace of cinnamon could stop the horror that shot through Riley the second Brett’s car connected with hers.

  “What are you doing?”

  An awful scraping of metal against metal combined with Riley’s scream. She struggled to keep the Jeep on the road. Dirt and rocks kicked up from the shoulder. Brett didn’t seem to care. He maneuvered his car back to the middle of the road while Riley tried for the brakes.

  If it had been an accident before, it surely wasn’t now.

  Brett was relentless as he swerved right back at her. This time Riley tried to avoid him. She hit the brakes but not before the back of his car collided with her driver’s-side door with a sickening crunch and undeniable force.

  Riley wasn’t sure what happened next.

  One second she had a death grip on the steering wheel. The next the world was chaos.

  Awful sounds surrounded her. Glass shattered, metal warped. Something hit Riley’s face. The feeling of gravity tugging her in the wrong direction was tangled in a burning sensation across her chest. On reflex she tried to touch the pain when the world around her stopped moving. Once her hand was off the steering wheel, though, her entire body shifted.

  Riley yelled.

  She realized then that she was upside down.

  Her red curls were reaching for the crumpled roof of the Jeep. One of Jenna’s dangling earrings slipped out of its place and plinked against something that sounded like glass below her. Something mechanical whined in the distance. The Greatest Hits of the 80s had gone silent but the lights from the dash sent a faint glow out around her.

  Riley had a moment of total confusion. It left her frozen.

  But then she heard it. A car door shutting.

  Then Riley remembered why she was upside down in the first place.

  Brett.

  “Oh my God.”

  She fumbled for the seat-belt buckle and hit the release without any more hesitation. The distance between her seat and the roof of the Jeep was a short journey. And a painful one. Her palms hit glass and twisted metal but saved her face. Her knees didn’t fare as well. Neither did her side. Pain radiated across her and settled in the injuries she had no time to investigate.

  The driver’s-side door was twisted and broken. Riley didn’t need the full light of day to see she wasn’t getting out that way. Instead she rolled over to the passenger’s-side door. It was already hanging open.

  Riley crawled for it like her life depended on it.

  And, didn’t it? All she could picture was Brett smiling.

  He’d done this on purpose and that thought terrified Riley to the point of shaking as she pushed through the door and tumbled out of the Jeep and onto the grass.

  She was on the shoulder where it dipped and disappeared into the start of the tree line.

  It was that tree line she was scrambling for when Brett appeared next to the Jeep.

  He was still smiling.

  And he was holding a baseball bat.

  Riley’s heartbeat was in her ears. Her bare feet complained as she ran full tilt into the darkness of the woods. That run turned into a fast limp. She slapped tree trunks as she tried to navigate around them. Roots she couldn’t see twisted the ground. Her feet caught them and the ground caught her body after. The beautiful dress she’d worried about getting dirty earlier that night was slowly becoming ribbons the farther into the trees she went.

  The beauty of the moonlight and stars meant nothing. All she could think about was how no one knew where she was, how she’d not even looked for her phone before running and how that running was about to end. Her body couldn’t keep it up. Not anymore.

  So when she tripped over a fallen log, instead of getting up and keeping forward, Riley crawled along its length, kept low and hurried to a neighboring tree. She flattened herself against its trunk and prayed that Brett hadn’t followed her.

  “Here, kitty, kitty!”

  Riley’s stomach dropped somewhere near her feet. Brett’s baritone carried with ease to where she was hiding. He had followed her. What’s more, he’d kept up.

  “You’re fast. I’ll give you that,” he continued. There was a laboring effort to his words. He seemed, at least, tired by their jaunt through the woods so far. “But I’m guessing you’re sitting still now. It’s gonna be hard to get back up.”

  Riley was absolutely trembling but she was also weighing her options. She could keep hiding and hope he just left or she could try to make it back to the Jeep. There was no telling where the woods ended. She didn’t want to find out by running all night into the darkness that the trees kept going for miles and miles.

  “I just want to talk,” Brett said after a moment. Riley almost sang in relief. He sounded farther away from her. “Come on out!”

  Riley took a deep breath. She thought about her sister. She thought about Hartley. She thought about her parents, and she hated to realize, she thought about her ex-husband Davies.

  If he hadn’t lied, I wouldn’t be here right now.

  But, the fact was, she was there and if she wanted to see her sister and nephew again, she was going to have to move like Hell was on her tail.

  Riley didn’t waste any more time. She hiked up her dress, pushed off the ground and prayed Brett wouldn’t hear her.

  If she could get back to the road she could—

  Two arms wrapped around her no more than a foot from her hiding place.

  They were strong and unmoving, a vise keeping her against him, pinning her arms to her sides. When a hand slapped over her mouth, Riley had every intention of biting through the bone if she had to.

  “Quiet or he’ll hear us.”

  The smooth, deep voice most certainly didn’t belong to Brett. Riley craned her neck around to see who had her back against his chest.

  Riley didn’t have enough emotion left in her to be surprised that it was Desmond Nash. Wearing his cowboy hat to boot.

  * * *

  “DON’T MAKE A SOUND,” Desmond whispered at Jenna’s ear. She nodded. He felt the movement across his body. Just as he felt her trembling.

  He knew he wasn’t faring much better. He’d been running after the man and her since he saw them take off into the woods. Even without his limp it had been in no way an easy trek.

  Slowly he took his hand from her mouth. He loosened his arms around her but didn’t fully disengage. Instead he lowered his lips so close to her ear that she jumped when he spoke.

  “Does he have a gun?”

  Her shrug moved his arms.

  “All I saw was a baseball bat.”

  Desmond’s blood would have been boiling at that if he hadn’t been trying to stay focused. He let go of her and reached into the pocket of his slacks. He yanked his cell phone out, careful to hide the light of his screen. He’d pulled them behind a tree but he didn’t know exactly where the man was.

  Desmond turned Jenna around and handed her the phone. He leaned in again so close that their foreheads touched.

  “My brother is on the phone,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Talk to him while I talk to that man. Do you know who he is?”

  The screen’s glow showed Desmond the dark eyes he’d admired over an hour ago. They widened. Desmond wanted to give her more comfort but he could hear her pursuer stomping around, crunching through the underbrush. He was starting to swear.

  He was losing patience.

  Desperate men did desperate things and Desmond wasn’t going to wait to see if this man had any last-ditch efforts he was ready to employ to get Jenna.

  Her voice wavered but she managed an answer.

  “He was at the party. His name is Brett.”

  Desmond scrolled through the list of people he knew named Brett as he nodded to her. When he stepped around the tree, he was sure he hadn’t talked to anyone with that name
during the party. A troubling fact but one of many that had and was taking place.

  The moonlight barely scratched the darkness’s surface but Desmond’s vision had adjusted enough to see the outline of the man. He was a few yards away, slinking between standing and downed trees. The bat was propped up on his shoulder.

  He was looking for Jenna.

  He was about to find Desmond instead.

  Desmond had moved around in a semicircle so that Jenna wasn’t behind him. He didn’t want to chance her getting hurt if there was cross fire. Desmond also wasn’t going to let her attacker get away. Brett might have pulled up after the wreck and looked like a man wanting to help but him chasing Jenna into the woods when Desmond arrived had painted a damning picture of intentions. The woods they were in stretched back for miles, ultimately leading to a neighboring property. Through that you could get back to the Nash family ranch.

  Another chance Desmond wasn’t going to take.

  If he could just keep the man occupied while he waited for Declan and Caleb to arrive...

  “I have a gun. You move—I shoot.”

  Desmond’s voice echoed around them.

  Brett stopped.

  For a moment no one spoke.

  Desmond wasn’t bluffing about the gun. He had one. Just not with him. He hadn’t brought it to the gala, and when he sneaked out of the gala to go to the construction site, he hadn’t thought to go by the house and get it. Still, Brett didn’t have a light. They were both dealing in outlines and shadows. He wouldn’t be able to see that Desmond wasn’t holding a gun.

  Then again, the same could be said for Desmond. The man might have been wielding a bat but that didn’t mean he wasn’t also carrying something else.

  “There was a car accident,” Brett said. There was concern clear in his voice. Along with surprise. “I tried to help the woman who was in it but she ran in here. I think something’s wrong with her.”

  “Did you call the police?” Desmond stalled.

  There was no response.

  Desmond narrowed his eyes, locking in on the outline in the distance.

  “Why do you have a bat?” he added.

  The outline shifted. Desmond balled his fists.

  “You’ve gone quiet, friend,” Desmond said after another tense silence. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really out here?”

  A flurry of motion streaked straight toward him. Desmond stood his ground, careful not to blink. The man was coming right at him, bat raised and growling like a deranged animal.

  It wasn’t the time, it wasn’t the place and it certainly wasn’t the same Desmond but just like that he was back in a memory. The worst memory.

  He was eight. The smell of summer was dancing along the heat and humidity and creating the need for the Nash triplets to do something other than hang around the ranch, and when the park called their name, they answered.

  Desmond remembered their laughter as they played hide-and-seek. He also remembered Madi’s screams.

  The man, one he still saw in his dreams from time to time, had been a walking nightmare then. Yet, after he’d hurt Madi and after he’d hurt Caleb, all he had been to the Desmond of then was a target.

  A target for his anger. For his fear. For his confusion.

  Without a second thought Desmond had gone at a man twice his size. A man who had a gun. A man who had a plan he didn’t understand.

  Just as the man with the bat was doing now.

  The dull pain in Desmond’s leg reminded him of how raw emotions could irrevocably change the outcome for the worst.

  Brett was acting on instinct.

  Desmond was acting on patience.

  Brett let out a wild war cry as the space between them disappeared. He wound the bat and his arm up, pulling it back over his shoulder, and prepared to swing. Desmond didn’t need lights surrounding them to know where to hit first.

  He waited until the last possible second and lunged at the man.

  They exchanged grunts as Desmond’s shoulder made contact with Brett’s chest. The attack wasn’t meant to put the man out of commission. It was meant to stun him.

  And boy did it work.

  His momentum redirected to the ground. Desmond fell with him.

  As soon as they hit, Desmond made fast work of grabbing for the bat.

  Brett growled, once again sounding more animal than human. He didn’t relinquish the bat without a fight. The man punched out with his left fist. It connected, but so did Desmond’s flurry of hits in return.

  Their scuffle turned into a rolling match as each tried to get the upper hand.

  Desmond held on to the bat just as Brett did, neither relinquishing control.

  It wasn’t until a light appeared a few feet from them that Brett’s attention broke. Desmond leaned into the oversight. He pulled the bat free, delivered a hard blow with his fist against the man’s jaw and watched with deep satisfaction as the body he’d been fighting went slack. Brett thumped back to the ground. Desmond took a deep breath and pushed up and away from him, brandishing the bat over his shoulder.

  With a heaving chest, bruised jaw and a layer of dirt and sweat galore, he turned to the light expecting to see his brothers.

  What he saw instead were two dark eyes and wild red hair.

  “I didn’t want to leave you,” Jenna said. She motioned to something in her other hand. It was a stick. “I was going to try to hit him.” She gave a weak laugh.

  Then her face fell.

  Now that they weren’t trying to hide the cell phone’s light, Desmond could see more of the woman.

  Including the tears starting to run down her cheeks.

  Desmond closed the space between them just in time for the woman to fall into his arms.

  They were still standing like that when the sheriff arrived.

  Chapter Four

  Lights danced between the trees as the woods filled with men and women dressed to the nines. The sheriff was still in his suit from the gala, same as Detective Nash who ran into the woods alongside his brother. A woman wearing a beautiful velvet green gown that shimmered in the glow of the cell phones and flashlights brought up the rear with a look as severe as the other two.

  All three had their guns drawn.

  When they saw Desmond standing there and Brett unconscious on the ground, Riley could nearly feel their relief.

  “I’m okay. He just got a few lucky hits in is all,” Desmond assured the sheriff before he could ask it. Then everyone’s gaze fell to Riley. She was still against Desmond’s chest, head turned like a terrified child peeking out around the skirt of her mother. Though the warmth of Desmond’s embrace in no way reminded her of her mother.

  Riley opened her mouth to say something but the words got caught in her throat. Her body had already devolved into a shaking mess. She didn’t say it but she had a sneaking suspicion that Desmond’s hold on her was the only thing keeping her upright. Thankfully, he also spoke for her.

  “We need to get her to the hospital.”

  “EMTs are on the way,” the woman said. She followed Desmond’s brother to Brett. He pulled out a set of cuffs from his jacket pocket and she covered him while he tugged Brett’s arms behind his back and closed the metal around his wrists. The sheriff holstered his gun. His expression softened as he looked at Riley.

  “I’m Declan. I was the one on the phone,” he said, tapping the badge on his hip that said Sheriff. Claire had already pointed out the sheriff and the detective at the gala, but even if Riley hadn’t known about the man, she would have guessed it right away. Declan Nash was giving off pure authority just by standing still. “What’s your name?”

  Despite everything that had just happened, despite the fact that she was talking to the sheriff, Riley felt the irrational urge to stick to the lie she’d been telling all night. To protect her sister from
scrutiny. It was weirdly easy to keep it going now.

  “Jenna. Jenna Stone.”

  No recognition flashed across the sheriff’s expression. Neither did suspicion. He simply nodded.

  “Well, Jenna, how do you want to do this? Would you like to wait for the EMTs to come in or do you think you’re up for walking back to the road?” He motioned to the woman. “Detective Santiago and Desmond will be with you every step of the way while Detective Nash and I wait here for backup.”

  “I can carry you, if you need,” Desmond offered. His words rumbled through his chest and against her body. It was encouraging in a way. She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves.

  She was safe now.

  They both were.

  “I can walk,” she decided. “I don’t want to be out here anymore.”

  The sheriff nodded.

  “I don’t blame you one bit on that. I’ll come talk to you after we get everything handled here.” He shared a look with Desmond. “And you’re okay to walk too?”

  “Yeah. The leg has been through a lot worse.”

  Slowly he released his hold on Riley, as if afraid she’d fall to pieces once he wasn’t keeping her together anymore. Riley hated to admit it but she was worried about the same thing.

  But then the warmth of him was gone, replaced by an ominous chill in the night air. Detective Santiago walked up to her side. Her gun was lowered but she didn’t put it away.

  Riley didn’t look back at Brett, lying motionless on the ground.

  She also didn’t dare look down at the baseball bat discarded at Desmond’s feet.

  The EMTs were already at the road by the time they came out of the tree line. So was a growing crowd. It was as if every gala attendee had decided to ditch their vehicles for a better view. Uniformed deputies were arriving and trying to block off the road. Brett had left his car on the shoulder opposite the Jeep.

  The poor Jeep.

  It was upside down and resembled a crushed Coke can.

  Riley sniffled back tears again as she walked past it to the back of the waiting ambulance.