After the Storm (35 page)

CHAPTER 39

DEFEAT
tugged mercilessly at Eve. It was over with. It was done. She was done. She stared up at her stepfather, shivering at the calculated way he looked at her. There was no mistaking the lust in his eyes. The triumph. He knew he’d won and he was relishing every moment of her helplessness.

“Ready to concede defeat, Eve?” he asked mockingly. “Are you ready to give me what I want?”

“Go to hell,” she bit out.

He backhanded her, dropping her in her tracks. She hit the floor as pain washed over her body. He kicked her, knocking the breath from her. Agony splintered through her ribs as he kicked again. God, he’d kill her. She knew it. Even embraced it.

Only the thought of Travis and Cammie in his hands gave her the courage to continue. Made her want to live to ensure that they’d be safe.

“Poor Eve,” he murmured as he bent to haul her roughly to her feet. “Did you know your lover was prepared to hand you over to me in exchange for backing off of Cammie and Travis?”

Eve closed her eyes, hurt welling up in her soul. A hurt far more agonizing than the physical pain she endured at his hands. This was soul deep. Her heart hurt. Yes, she’d known of Donovan’s plan, but hearing it from her stepfather’s lips, getting confirmation of what she already knew, sent pain to the deepest recesses of her soul.

“You must have been lousy in bed if he was so willing to give you up,” Walt mocked.

He walked around her in a tight circle, pacing the living room of the cabin he’d taken her to. Her knees wobbled but by sheer grit alone she managed to remain standing. Defiant.

He paused and let a finger trail down the curve of her cheek. She turned away, not wanting him to touch her, and he issued another slap.

It wasn’t as hard as the last. She stumbled back but managed to regain her footing before she hit the floor again.

Her entire face ached. It was on fire from his repeated abuse. But this she could manage. It was only pain. What she couldn’t face was him touching her. Him being intimate with her. Nausea curled low in her belly and her mouth watered. She swallowed, choking it back.

He wouldn’t break her. He wouldn’t!

“Are you prepared to give me what I want?” he asked.

Her gaze snapped to his, fire in her eyes. “Go to hell.”

Rage burned a trail though his eyes, and then they turned cold.

“You don’t learn,” he said softly. “But you will, Eve. You’ll learn that you will pay for defying me. I can be a patient man. You will agree to what I want.”

“Never!”

He smiled then, and it chilled Eve’s blood. “We’ll see how quickly you change your mind when I make a vegetable out of you. Perhaps after a few days in the institution you’ll see the error of your ways. It’s an honor I’m bestowing on you. You’re a fool to continue with this resistance. You won’t win. I’ll have you, Eve. And I’ll have Travis and Cammie.”

“You’ll never get near them,” she hissed. “He’ll never allow it. He’ll kill you.”

Walt’s eyebrows went up. “The lover who fucked you over? Your faith in him surprises me.”

“Go to hell.”

His eyes narrowed as fury reddened his face. “No, Eve, but you will. You’re going right to hell. Before I’m finished with you, you’ll welcome my attentions. You’ll beg to get in my bed.”

“Never.”

The quiet vow fell between them. She lifted her head, staring at him through painful, swollen eyes.

His lips thinned and tightened, and then he lifted his hand, motioning for someone beyond her.

Fear and panic exploded through her veins as another man advanced on her, a syringe in his hand. She whirled, looking for an escape. Some way out of her circumstances.

Walt wrapped his hand in her hair and yanked her up short. His breath blew harshly over her face. His eyes glittered with sick arousal. The bastard was getting off on what he planned to do to her.

Realization settled over her like a suffocating fog. Once drugged, she had no power. He could do anything he wanted, even rape her, and she would be helpless to prevent it.

She fought back wildly, surprising him with her strength. Desperation lent her more than she possessed. She broke away and ran for the doorway. She was nearly there when she hit the floor, pain blistering through her.

Walt’s heavy body pinned her, his chest rising and falling with exertion. And then he laughed.

“I like a good fight,” he murmured. “Your mother never fought. She was too weak, too spineless. But you, Eve? Ah, I look forward to having you in my bed. I have a feeling it will always be a fight with you.”

She felt the prick of a needle. Felt the surge of medication forced into her body. Tears burned her eyelids. There was no escape. He could do anything he wanted with her.

“Get her up and get her out of here,” Walt bit out, the words seemingly coming from a mile away. “She’ll learn soon enough that she’ll do exactly as I want or suffer the consequences.”

CHAPTER 40

TRAVIS
paced the floor of his father’s cabin, wondering for the hundredth time if he’d been wrong. What if his father didn’t come here? What if he was hundreds of miles away? What if he’d been so arrogant and so sure of himself that he had taken Eve back to California?

His father didn’t even know that Travis knew of this place. Or that he had the security codes to access the gate and to disarm the security system. No, his father thought him an inept idiot. At one time Travis had been bitter over that fact. Devastated at first and then bitter. And then finally resigned. He realized he no longer cared. He’d stopped craving his father’s approval when he was old enough to understand what a monster he was.

He saw how his father treated Eve, who was the sweetest person Travis knew. Eve had more integrity in her little finger than Walt could ever dream of. And it appeared Donovan as well.

Grief welled in his heart, spreading until his entire chest ached. How could he have been so wrong about Donovan? How could he have done what he did to Eve? How could he have lied, said he wanted them to be family when all along he never had any intention of loving and caring for Eve? No matter that he cared for him and Cammie. How could Travis ever be happy in a family that didn’t include the one person who loved him more than anyone did or ever would? Who’d sacrificed so much for him and Cammie?

The accusations Rusty had hurled at Donovan still rang in Travis’s ears. He winced, hearing them over and over, the shock of them still paralyzing him. He drew in a deep breath, pushing aside his grief.

He wouldn’t let Eve down. Not when she’d risked everything for him time and time again.

He froze when he heard the sound of a door opening. His grip tightened on the gun he carried and he rested it against his thigh, prepared to do whatever was necessary to defend himself but more importantly to get Eve out of his father’s grasp.

His father strode into the room and blinked in surprise when he saw Travis standing there. Then his eyes gleamed and Travis could see him calculating. Coming up with an excuse, a story. Bullshit was his specialty. Travis had learned that at a very young age and he could spot it a mile away.

“Well, well, well,” his father said in a dragged-out fashion. “What a surprise. I’d ask how you got here, how you even knew to get here, but it doesn’t matter. It merely saves me the trouble of getting both you and Cammie back.”

“What did you do with Eve?” Travis demanded. “Where is she? Did you hurt her? Did you kill her like you killed my mother?”

His father’s eyebrow rose. No, he wasn’t his father. He couldn’t refer to him as his father. He was Walt Breckenridge. And he was a bastard of the first order.

“I didn’t kill your mother. Eve did that all on her own. As for where Eve is, she’s in a place where she can get the help she obviously needs. She’s brainwashed you and Cammie both. What did she do, give you some sob story about me abusing your mother and then killing her?”

Travis’s jaw tightened and he raised the gun to point it at his father. It shook in his grasp and despite his efforts to settle himself, the gun still quivered. It pissed him off that Walt noticed and triumph entered his eyes. He didn’t think Travis had the balls to pull the trigger.

“You killed my mother. You abused my mother. You abused
Cammie
, you sick bastard. You tried to abuse Eve. I don’t need Eve to tell me those things. I have eyes. I have ears. I lived under the same roof. Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I didn’t see the bruises? Didn’t hear the lame excuses? Now what did you do with Eve? Tell me or I swear to God I’ll shoot you.”

Walt’s lips formed a lazy grin. “If you shoot me, you certainly won’t find out any information on Eve, now will you? So it would seem we’re at an impasse. You want information I won’t give. And if you shoot, you’ll never find out.”

“What is
wrong
with you?” Travis shouted. “You’re my father! And I’m
nothing
to you! Why do you even care? Why do you want me and Cammie so badly? Why do you want Eve?”

He broke off, the gun shaking in his hand so badly he nearly dropped it.

“I know what you want with Cammie, you sick bastard. How could you? She’s a baby! And Eve! What has she ever done but care about her mother and us?”

“You all belong to me,” Walt said icily. “You’re mine. And I don’t relinquish control over what’s mine.”

“That’s all it is to you, isn’t it? You’re a psychopath. It’s all about control. You don’t give a damn about me or them. You don’t give a damn about anything but yourself and what you can control. You’re God in your own world and you think everyone is a pawn to do what you want, when you want.”

Walt shrugged. “Think what you will. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m holding all the cards. Now here’s what I will do. You can decide which sister you want to save. You get in touch with your precious Donovan Kelly and do whatever you have to do to get Cammie here. You do that, I’ll tell you where Eve is. You don’t? You can kiss your precious half sister good-bye. You’ll never find her. You’ll never know if she’s dead or alive. Cammie is your real sister. And as you said, she’s a baby. So you decide, Travis. But the clock is ticking on my ultimatum. Better make up your mind fast. But know this. I’ll get Cammie back one way or another. You expediting matters will make me more amenable to giving you information on that weak, spineless, utterly worthless half sister you seem to value so much.”

“Weak? Spineless?” Travis’s mouth gaped open. He was so furious that he couldn’t even see straight. Walt’s features blurred in front of him and his knees nearly buckled.

“You son of a bitch. A weak, spineless,
worthless
person wouldn’t have stood up to you. She wouldn’t have risked so much to try and get our mother out of your grasp. A weak person would have taken the easy road and let you control her life like you were so determined to do. She would have remained silent and let you continue your abuse. Instead she lost everything.
Everything
. And she risked it all to take me and Cammie away so we’d be safe. The only weak, spineless, worthless piece of shit in this picture is
you
and I’m horrified that we share the same blood. I can only pray to God that I never inherit a damn thing from you.”

A spark of rage flashed in Walt’s eyes, the first emotion other than calm smugness he’d displayed.

“You will not speak to your father in that manner,” he seethed. “I own you, boy. And by God, I’ll dispose of you just like I did your pathetic excuse of a mother.”

Frozen by the admission, Travis stared in horror at the man who called himself his father. Yes, he’d known Walt had killed his wife, but hearing him so callously admit it stunned him.

And it was in that moment of inattention that Walt launched himself the short distance that separated the two. Travis barely had time to tighten his grip on the gun when Walt attacked.

They went sprawling, Walt on top, his hand curling around Travis’s wrist, tightening until Travis was certain the bone would break. His father was strong. Much stronger than Travis would have imagined. And in this moment, he realized that Walt would kill him if he was able to wrest the gun from his hands.

They rolled and Travis struck out with his free hand, trying to knock Walt back. Walt grabbed the hand and twisted it high above his head, his other hand locked around Travis’s other wrist until the hand holding the gun went numb.

Triumph gleamed in Walt’s eyes as he lay atop Travis with Travis pinned to the floor.

“Such a sad story this will make,” Walt said. “Overcome with grief over his mother’s death and his half sister’s mental illness, the son takes his own life, no doubt a result of the same mental illness that gripped his mother and half sister. Genetics, you know. It’s too bad I didn’t choose better in my wife. Now it will only be me and Cammie and I’ll garner sympathy for the tragedy that has befallen my family.”

Knowing he was now fighting for his life, Travis rammed his knee between Walt’s legs. A look of agony covered Walt’s face and his grip loosened. Just enough for Travis to shove the gun between them.

Realizing this, Walt recovered and reached down to once again try to wrest the gun from Travis’s hand. But Travis’s hand was on the trigger and when Walt squeezed, the gun went off.

Walt jerked. Travis felt the impact and for a moment he didn’t know if he’d been shot or if Walt had. He was too numb, too shaken. But wouldn’t it hurt?

He felt the warm, sticky sensation of blood. He smelled it. He looked down to see it blooming on both his and Walt’s clothing. But when he looked back up and met Walt’s stunned gaze, he saw the glaze of pain and shock. And he saw death.

Travis shoved at him, frantic to get him off. He pushed the heavy body aside and scrambled up, panicked at the blood coating his clothing. It was all over the floor. God. Walt’s chest was covered with it.

Oh God. Oh God. What was he going to do? He hadn’t meant to kill him! He only wanted to threaten him. Make him tell him what he’d done with Eve. He scrubbed his hands over his shirt, but all he did was smear more of the blood on his hands.

Oh God. What could he do? He was in enough trouble for what he’d already done and now he’d killed his own father! What would Eve do? And Cammie? They needed him. And now they’d be left alone. And he didn’t even know if Eve was alive! If she was, he had no way of finding her now.

The front door burst open and Travis’s heart sank. It would be the police. They would have heard the gunshot. There was no defense. He was covered in his father’s blood. His fingerprints on the gun.

But when Donovan Kelly burst into the living room, his brothers and others he had no idea who they were on his heels, Travis burst into tears.

* * *

DONOVAN
and his brothers along with Nathan and Joe’s team roared up to the cabin just outside Wasco. It was their last resort. The only place they hadn’t looked for Walt, and if it weren’t for the fact that Resnick had come through for them, they’d still be chasing their goddamn tails.

There was a vehicle parked out front and Donovan’s pulse accelerated. The arrogant bastard had driven here in his own vehicle.

Two goddamn days. Two of the longest days of his life they’d spent uncovering every rock in Walt Breckenridge’s life. He’d called in every favor ever owed him. Resnick had been working around the clock, pulling every string available to him and then some. And with each passing hour, Donovan’s sense of fatalism had grown until he’d resigned himself that he’d lost Eve and likely Travis as well.

They got out, guns drawn, and then they heard a gunshot.

Fear seized him and he discarded every single thing he knew about caution and he ran.

Ignoring the angry shouts of his brothers to wait until they cleared the area, Donovan burst through the front door, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Travis standing, pale, bloody and obviously in shock. And on the floor, lying in a pool of blood, was Walt Breckenridge.

Travis’s gaze lifted to Donovan’s, and then he burst into tears. He was still holding the gun and he was shaking like a leaf.

“Holy fuck,” Sam breathed as he caught up to Donovan.

“Travis,” Donovan said in a soothing tone. “Everything’s okay, son. I need you to put down the gun before you hurt yourself. Can you do that?”

Travis looked down as if only just now realizing he was still holding the gun. Then he dropped it and Donovan’s brothers and teammates scattered, afraid the gun would discharge. When nothing happened, they slowly rose and Donovan cautiously approached Travis.

“What happened, son?” he asked gently.

“I-I s-shot him,” Travis stammered out. “I didn’t mean to, Donovan. Oh my God, I killed him but I didn’t
mean
to! I just wanted to threaten him. To make him tell me what he’s done with Eve. I didn’t mean to kill him! He jumped at me and we struggled. We were on the floor and he said that he was going to make it look like I’d shot myself. That I had the same mental illness Eve has and that grief-stricken over the death of my mother and the loss of Eve, I killed myself.”

Donovan’s blood ran cold when Travis said “the loss of Eve.” But for now he had to put it aside. He had to fix this and fast.

“Listen to me,” Donovan said in a harsh voice.

Travis jumped at the ferocity in Donovan’s voice, but Donovan needed his full attention.

“You did not shoot your father. You understand? You did not do this. Your father was trying to kill you and we burst in and one of us shot him. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Travis blinked and shook his head. “No. I can’t let you do that. I killed him, Donovan. I killed him.”

“You aren’t understanding,” Garrett said, coming to stand beside Donovan. “We need you to get ahold of yourself. I know you’re upset. I know you’re in shock. But this is important, son. Tell me you understand what I’m saying.”

Slowly Travis nodded.

“Now, it went down exactly like I said,” Donovan said in a gentle tone in an effort to calm Travis. “You had nothing to do with shooting him. You never saw this gun. You didn’t have a gun. You never touched this gun.”

“But my fingerprints,” Travis said helplessly. “The blood.”

Even as he spoke, he glanced sideways to see Skylar wiping down the gun and then handing it to Sam, who holstered it.

“Strip,” Donovan ordered.

As he issued the command, Joe stepped up and thrust a pair of fatigues and a T-shirt toward Donovan.

“Don’t move. Not even an inch. Strip where you stand. We’re going to wipe you down before you put on other clothing. Now hurry. We don’t have much time.”

After they’d taken care of Travis and led him over to the couch to sit before he fell, Donovan sat across from him to ask what he’d been dying to know ever since Travis’s words about the loss of Eve.

His tongue was thick and swollen in his mouth. The words knotted in his throat because he was afraid of what he’d hear. It took every ounce of self-control not to break down and to try to sit there calmly when every part of him was screaming that he’d lost Eve forever.