Lyndee's Saviors [Men of Montana] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

* * * *

Philip woke with a start, confusion setting in when he saw the fireplace before him as this wasn’t his apartment, but then remembered where he was. Standing, he stretched the kinks out of his tall body before looking over at the bed where his captive lay. She wasn’t moving so he made his way over to her to see if she had regained consciousness after he had slugged her the previous evening. As he approached, he heard her pleas through the material stuffed in her mouth for a gag.

* * * *

Her hearing was enhanced since she couldn’t see behind the blindfold so she heard his boots on the floor getting closer and closer. The need to pee had risen greatly since she had awoken a while ago. She hoped he would be considerate enough to let her use the restroom and not have to embarrass herself by relieving herself in the bed. She didn’t hold out much faith as the man was ruthless and uncaring as she had found out when he killed a prostitute he had hired because she had bit him on his penis when he got too domineering.

Struggling against the restraints and talking into the cloth she hoped he would try to discover what she wanted. Feeling his hand on her right breast she went still but kept trying to talk. In a moment she felt him pull the gag down to lie on her neck.

“I…I need…” She tried to speak but the dry, cottony feeling wouldn’t leave her mouth as she tried to gather saliva.

She felt him next to her, but he had become still. Was he getting ready to rape her? What was he waiting for? She knew he was a sadistic bastard and that he would most likely antagonize her psyche before he took her and killed, but could her nerves withstand the waiting?

After what felt like hours, where her heart pounded against her ribcage, she heard him move. The sound of his boots on the hardwood floor and the movement of his clothes took him away from her. She heard what she thought was a refrigerator open and close before he made his way back to her.

Since she didn’t have her sight, she heard what she thought was a top being unscrewed from a bottle. Next she heard his throat swallowing and her mouth dried even more at the thought of him drinking something. In the next moment, she felt the cold top of the bottle on her lips. Opening them, she felt the comforting of cold water splash the desert that was her mouth. Swallowing as quickly as possible for fear of choking on the liquid in her position, she was allowed this three times before he pulled the bottle away from her. Water dribbled from it as he pulled the plastic bottle away from her. Apparently he didn’t care if he spilled some on her.

As the cold drops landed on her top the woman felt her nipples contract at the sensation. She knew Philip’s eyes would be ablaze with sadistic desire. He had made no qualms about wanting to fuck her when she worked for the mob, even saying it with those exact words. An involuntary shudder ran through her, knowing she was at his mercy for him to perform his deepest desire. A struggle in her bindings caused Philip to laugh out loud before pouring some more water into her mouth.

When her mouth was wet enough, she tried to speak again, though this time with coyness. “I need to use the restroom.”

Fear engulfed her when Philip grasped her chin in his large hand and leaned in close to her. Pressing his hand together against her face had her thinking he was going to hurt her and fear consumed her. “If you even think of trying anything, little girl, I will snap your neck in two and then fuck your dead body! Is that clear?”

Nodding quickly she whispered as she fought down the bile threatening to come up. “Yes.”

Blinking as bright light punctured the darkness she had been in for God knows how long, she watched as he pulled the key from his shirt pocket. He set about unlocking the manacles on her legs, moving around the footboard to do so, then he began on her left wrist then moved on to the right one. The first three manacles were left attached to their respective metal posts but he left the right one on her wrist.

Before she could stand on her own, he pulled her up by her shoulders, and once on her feet he took a step behind her and let his large hand come up around her throat and squeeze it, not giving her a chance to move on her own. His other hand wrapped around her waist as he began to push her in the direction of the bathroom. Once there she thought he would leave her to do what she needed to do but he released her and stood against the counter watching her, to her aggravation.

It was hard for her to answer nature’s call with an audience but she was able to finish. After she pulled her shorts up he grasped her again in the same fashion, one hand on her throat and the other around her waist as he escorted her back to the bed. Taking her wrist with the handcuff still on it, he attached it to one of the spindles on the headboard, the click echoing throughout the room, causing the lady to flinch.

She watched him go over to the kitchen where he fixed some food. Quickly Lisa took in her prison. Grasping the handcuff she quietly tried to pull on it and found the spindle was loose, which caused her heart to soar and she began to plan. Looking over at the mountain of a man in the kitchen, she saw his gun sticking out of the waistband of his jeans. He had put the key back into the pocket of his T-shirt, and now she had to figure out how to get both away from him.

Reaching over, she moved the spindle back and forth until it came loose, and she slid the closed part of the handcuff out from under it though left her hand near the headboard to keep up the pretense she was still bound. Shifting slightly, the sheet beneath her moved to help cover up the handcuff so she hoped she’d be able to pull this off.

Philip came back around to her, handing her half a sandwich, which she took with her free hand, and he watched while she wolfed it down as he knew she was hungry. When she finished, he handed her the other half, which she fumbled and dropped to the floor. Philip backhanded her face before reaching down to pick up the mess, forgetting for a moment how close he was too her.

Lisa pulled the Glock from his jeans and rolled herself across the bed before Philip could pull himself up to stand. She was on her feet and both hands on the trigger when he realized what had taken place.

“You will not hurt me again, Philip McKnight! And when I am through with you, you will regret the day you ever laid a hand on me,” she said with such venom that it even shook her. “I am going to expose you to the police and they will have you in jail faster than you can think about it and that’s if your mob boss doesn’t get to you first.”

During her tirade, Philip began to slowly move around the footboard of the bed and toward her. Backing up, she kept the gun trained on his chest as she inched toward the door. When her back hit it, she used one hand to open it while the other remained on the trigger, not taking any chances of turning her head away from him. She back stepped onto the porch and that was when Philip took the opportunity for an attack.

He lunged for the door as it began to slowly close, thinking she was already running, but she heard him and pulled the trigger. A groan escaped his lips and she knew she had hit him. Turning, she began to run down the path through the thick trees blindly, not knowing where she was going.

Fearing for her life even more at this point since she had shot him, she ran faster, her hair flying around her face, the gun still in her hand in case she still needed it. Weaving in and out of the trees she could hear his grunting behind her, and she turned once to see where he was and found he was faltering on the path so she picked up her pace.

She didn’t know how long she ran but she began to get winded and a sharp pain developed in her abdomen. Sweat ran off of her body and trickled down her face from her hair. The higher elevation did nothing to relieve her breathing and she began to get dizzy. The lower branches of trees and the bushes scratched at her exposed flesh as dirt began to stick to the sweat. Between the sweat and the dizziness, she didn’t realize she had wandered off the path, and when she felt no ground beneath her foot at her next step, she knew she was going to fall, though how far she didn’t know.

A scream escaped her lips as she tumbled down the embankment to the dry streambed below, hitting rock after rock and bushes along the way. Her head struck a boulder and everything went black.

* * * *

“Did you hear that?” Austin asked as the gunshot still seemed to echo through the forest.

“Yeah,” Trey said, chirruping his horse to speed up. “Poachers?”

Storm’s mouth thinned at the thought of someone poaching on their land, and he followed his brother and cousin up the mountain trail in search of whoever had a gun on their property. He had rented out the cabin on a moment’s notice, and he hoped that he wasn’t going to have problems with the man who had paid him in cash.

They were about a mile and a half from the cabin so hopefully they would have their answer soon. After moving quickly for about half an hour, a woman’s scream echoed through the small canyon, causing the men to halt their horses.

“Doesn’t sound like too far away,” Austin said then prodded on. “Let’s go.”

Picking up the pace again, they found the footprints of someone heading down the trail, dodging in and out of the tree line. Odd. Austin backtracked a bit and found where the tracks led off a bit from the trail and then where they disappeared over the side of the embankment.

“Over here! Looks like someone took a tumble!” he shouted back to the boys.

In a flash he was off his black and white appaloosa and heading down the hill. Trey and Storm slid from their horses when they came up next to their cousin’s and both peered over the side and watched the man jumping from rock to rock. At the bottom he stopped, abruptly staring at the ground, and said, “Ah, shit!”

Bending down, he felt the neck of the woman he found beaten and battered by the forest that she had run through. Feeling the telltale sign of life beneath his fingers, he moved her head slightly and found the lump, along with some blood behind the right ear. Her tank had become skewed during her tumble, and her right breast was exposed, showing the head of a green-and-yellow dragon near her nipple as if it were going to bite it. The dragon’s body disappeared under the material and guilt struck at him at the thought that he wanted to know how far it went.

Feeling her limbs he found them to be intact and also came across the handcuffs still attached to her right wrist, so looking up at the top of the embankment he called out, “She’s pretty banged up! I’m going to try to bring her up!”

“You need help?” Storm called down to him.

“No. There’s too many rocks on the way up. It’ll be too difficult for two people to carry her. But just wait ‘til you see her!”

The two brothers glanced at each other, curiosity now peaked. It took about five minutes for Austin to appear with the petite bundle slung over his shoulder and by then the anticipation was eating at them. He never should have teased them about her looks because by the time the man arrived with the woman, they were both tripping over themselves trying to get a look.

The tall, dark man knelt to the ground and carefully laid the woman down on the dirt, his hand resting behind her head so it wouldn’t jar her any more than her body already was. Straightening up her clothes as not to reveal too much of her delectable body, as they all had been raised with manners, he stood again to face his cousins.

“I’m going to check the surrounding area,” he said, looking up the path. “Something had her spooked and I don’t think it was just the sound of a gunshot.”

The brothers nodded in agreement as the man walked up the hill, following the footprints in the dirt. Storm made his way to his horse, pulled out a first aid kit from one of the saddlebags, and returned to the girl, finding Trey feeling under her to see if those loose-fitting shorts had a pocket.

“No pockets mean no identification,” the younger brother said discouraged, more to himself than his brother. “I wonder who she is.”

Storm knelt down beside her and opened the plastic kit. Taking out a small square package he tore it open and pulled out the gauze then held it against the bleeding lump on the side of her head. A moan escaped her lips at the action, though she remained unconscious so that told Storm at least she was able to feel it, at least deep in her subconscious mind.

Trey took in her full lips, though split in several places, along with her slender neck and down to where the excess flesh of her breasts fell out to the sides of the tank top. He wondered what color her eyes were under those long lashes but would have to wait to see when she woke up. He noticed the bruising on her cheeks, and reaching down he moved her head to the left and to the right, concern striking first and then an overwhelming anger that boiled up from deep within him.

“Hey bro, look at these bruises,” he pointed out. “Looks like the imprint of a fist or two on this cheek and then over here, looks like someone backhanded her.”

Storm noticed the cuffs and, pulling her arm out from next to her body, held it up so the free end dangled down. Confusion set in. In shock, he let out a confused exclamation. “What the hell?”

“A prisoner?” Trey asked. “Dressed like this with bruises like that? No wonder she ran.”

Setting her arm down gently, Storm looked at her lovely face and saw what was beneath the dirt, cuts, and bruising. His blood boiled within him that anyone would treat a lady like this. He thought briefly of the man he had rented the cabin to but knew investigating would need to wait until this woman was settled in at the Circle G and tended to by Doc Anderson and then conscious enough to let them know what had happened to her. It was too much of a coincidence that the cabin was about a mile away from this exact location.