Mississippi Blues (7 page)

“I'm big in a lot more ways than talk. Try me, and I'll show you.” He kissed two of his fingers then brushed them across her cheek.

Candy wandered up beside her, arms wrapped around the waist of her new boyfriend. “Can you find a ride home? I'm going with Ralphie.”

“I have my Jeep.” She heard the Chief's voice in her head warning her to never drink and drive. Sober was a long ways behind her. She glanced at the man behind the bar. “Jimmy Ray can take me home.”

“Yeah, and other places.” He smirked. “Like Heaven.”

“Cool. I'll call you tomorrow.” Before Lindy could change her mind, Candy left with her latest chance at love.

“Let's get out of here.” Lindy slung her bag over her shoulder and handed Jimmy Ray her car keys. “You drive.”

“Cool.” He tossed the keys in the air catching them in his palm. “Let's ride.”

• • •

He drove like a man possessed. Even loaded, Lindy worried they might wreck. She hung onto the roll bar for dear life. Her stomach pitched, threatening to boil over. “Slow down.”

“No way, baby. I don't do anything half speed.” He tromped on the gas, sending the Jeep into a fishtail.

“Where are we going?” she mumbled, tightening her hold.

He reached over and slid his hand up her thigh. “Somewhere we can be alone.”

Her skin crawled. Shouldn't she be looking forward to being with him? When the Chief found out, he'd blow his stack. “I just wanna lay down.” Lindy's head felt as though it might explode. She thought she might feel better if it did.

“Oh, you'll go down, Lil Sugar.” Jimmy Ray licked his lips and leered at her. “And so will I.”

Suddenly, the last thing Lindy wanted was this toad's hands on her. Her skin under his hand felt dirty. There were other ways she could piss off the Chief. “I've changed my mind. I need to go home.”

He shook his head. “No way. We're gonna see this through. Tonight.”

Although her brain felt like scrambled eggs, she tried to think how she could get out of this mess. Maybe she could get away from him when he stopped the Jeep. Pretend to have to pee or something then run. She stroked his hand with her nails. “I know. Let's go to the lake.”

“That's good thinking. No one will be there.” He squeezed her knee and her stomach did a somersault. What had she gotten herself into? Jimmy Ray wasn't a high school boy she could tease then laugh in his face.

“Just us.” Her mind raced as she tried to come up with a plan.

He floored the accelerator so hard the Jeep seemed to jump ahead like a spurred horse.

Through her soggy brain, Lindy tried to find a logical way out of this one. She'd really done it this time. The last thing she wanted was to have sex with Jimmy Ray, but if she just came out and said so, he might hurt her. Her plan to make the Chief and Mother worry seemed kinda stupid right now. No one but Candy had a clue where she'd gone. Probably getting busy with her date, Candy wouldn't worry about Lindy until tomorrow — if then.

• • •

She let him kiss her.

Surprisingly, he was good, using his tongue like a weapon. He tasted like mint chewing gum, not alcohol as she expected. His hair and body stunk like smoke and booze, though, making her stomach do a back flip, and she had to force herself not to hurl all over him. When he slid his hand under her shirt and undid her bra, she moaned a protest. He fondled her breasts with rough hands, squeezing hard and pinching her nipples.

She struggled, but he tightened his hold on her and yanked the strap of her top off her shoulder working it toward her waist. Dipping his head, he nipped her neck and collarbone. She squirmed, trying to get away, but he made his way to her breasts biting so hard he drew blood on one. She shoved at his head and cried, “Stop it. You're hurting me.”

He slobbered against her. “I don't think so. You've taunted me long enough. I'm hard as a rock.” For emphasis, he grabbed her hand and placed it on his crotch. His erection strained against his leather pants.

“I said no.” She struggled to get free, but he held her palm against him. Grossed out, she didn't want to admit she'd never done it before. She put on a good show, but the truth was she had never gone all the way. And she didn't want her first time to be with someone sleazy like Jimmy Ray Hunt. All of the guys she messed with before had stopped when she said to. None had ever dared to push when she called a halt to the games.

“You teasing little bitch. You've been swishing your cute ass in front of me for the last year knowing how bad I want you, and now you're saying no? I don't think so, babe.” He let go of her long enough to unzip his pants. Then he reached under her skirt, the seam giving way, tearing up her thigh. He ripped one side of her panties and crammed two fingers into her unwilling, dry body.

She screamed and writhed, clawing at his face and digging her heels into his legs but nothing she did discouraged him. Her actions only seemed to excite him more. When he rose above her, she screamed again and aimed her foot at his nuts.

• • •

Jace hid in the galley of
The Emily
.

He felt like a punching bag.

Unsure what else to do, he'd headed for Juliet. He had a half-baked idea he could retrace Soloman's steps and prove he hadn't killed the scum. But before he got to the Mississippi state line, he realized he didn't have a chance in hell of proving his innocence after all these years. He couldn't just march up to anyone involved and demand answers. They'd laugh in his face before sending him straight back to Angola.

Then he remembered a place that might be deserted, where he could hide out and make plans. Chief Bouché's fishing boat anchored at Mystic Lake, a few miles from Juliet.

A perfect plan.

No one would think he'd have big enough balls to hide in plain sight.

He heard the motor before he saw the headlights. How had they found him so soon? Diving off the couch, he slipped outside into the dark. He jumped off the deck and fell with a grunt. Righting himself, he forced himself to run up the dock, disappearing into the trees at the shoreline. Moving far enough away from the boat to feel safe, he hid and watched. The vehicle didn't go to the boats, but instead turned down a road a few yards before the dock lane. Then it stopped. Not cops. Just to be certain, he moved a few yards closer. He spotted two people silhouetted in the open-topped Jeep.

Relief flooded him. Just a couple parking.

In the clear night air, a girl screamed.

It'd been awhile, but he didn't think the cry was one of passion. Someone was in trouble. He turned away. Not his problem. The girl's cries raked across his conscience. No one had helped Mama. “Shit.”

A shriek rent the air again.

He hesitated. Staying out of it would be the best thing to do. No way could he stand here while someone raped a woman. He edged through the trees until he could get a clear view. If all the couple was doing was engaging in rough sex, he'd feel pretty stupid. On the other hand, if this were a crime against a helpless woman, he couldn't walk away.

“Get off me!”

A definite call for aid.

Shaking off his doubts, Jace streaked across the meadow. He had to save the girl. He picked up a heavy stick and advanced. Before he got close enough to help, she somehow managed to get the guy off her, jumped out of a Jeep and ran past Jace, swerving like a scared rabbit. The would-be rapist stumbled out of the vehicle and hobbled after her, one hand on his crotch. Had she racked him? Good for her.

Jace faded into the darkness, waiting until the man grew even with him, then he reached out a foot and tripped the chaser who sprawled in a heap at Jace's feet. Before he thought it out, Jace hit him on the head with the branch. The guy went limp. Jace kicked him hard in the ribs until the guy groaned.

Reality grabbed him before he killed the guy. This wasn't the creep who raped Mama.

The last time Jace went after a rapist, he found himself convicted of murder. Shit. Had he killed this moron? Leaning down, he reached to feel for a pulse. Halfway there he stopped. He couldn't risk leaving evidence of any kind. While he debated, the guy groaned and stirred. He had a knot on his forehead and a trickle of blood coming out of the corner of his mouth, but he'd live.

Jace had to get out of here before the guy came to and reported him. He'd find himself back in Angola before dawn. Where was the girl? He looked around, but she'd disappeared like mist. Where had she run to? The boat? Double damn. He'd eaten and changed out of his prison-issue outfit into some clothes he'd found on the boat, but the jumpsuit and candy wrappers were still on the floor. Anyone with half a brain could tell he'd been there.

He sidled up to the Jeep and took the keys from the ignition, then slipping through the nighttime forest, approached
The Emily
. Reaching the boat, he slowed. Silent as death, he made his way along the dock. At the ladder, he paused. Nothing made a sound, but the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He sensed a trap. With all his senses on alert, he turned and scaled the ladder. Nothing.

Easing the door open, he moved inside.

A small whimper from the corner let him know he wasn't alone. Again he froze. She had beat him here. He waited for his vision to clear before he moved again. Gradually, his eyes adjusted to the dark, and he spotted her curled up on the corner of the couch, trying to hide. He stepped further inside, closing the door behind him. She made another small noise.

“Who are you?” He couldn't believe how soft he was being. He ought to pick her up and toss her overboard. The cons in the yard would laugh themselves silly if they could see him playing hero.

She made a sound low in her throat.

Turning the lamp on low, he stood by the door. She curled up in a fetal position and whimpered again. Moving beside her, he knelt and reached for her scratched, bloody arm. At the last second, he jerked his hand back. There was no way he would touch her, leave DNA and incriminate himself in this crime. “Look, you've got to get out of here. I've got your keys.”

Sobs wracked her body. He realized she was crying so hard her body shook. He had his own problems. Frightened she was going to bring the cops down on him, he lost patience. “Are you hurt? If not, you've got to get up and get the hell out of here.”

She curled up tighter as if she hadn't heard.

“You've got to go.” His desperation built. He'd already spent way too much time with her. She had to pull herself together and go home. Her skirt had ripped all the way up, scrunched under her, just a piece of tattered material. Even though her smooth, bare legs were scratched and blood streaked he couldn't help checking out her shapely thighs and the tiny scrap of red material covering the enticing V where they met. Five years behind prison walls was a long time to be without a woman, but no way would he ever touch someone who was afraid of him.

She coughed and lifted her head.

Their eyes met and held. Dark rings of mascara ran down her red, blotchy face, but her enormous honey-brown eyes mesmerized him. He couldn't look away. He gave himself a mental shake. He had been in prison too long if he found anything about this bedraggled, scared creature appealing.

She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

Encouraged, he squatted and waited.

“You're Jace.” Her voice came out ragged.

Shit. He'd been made. For a millisecond, he thought about jumping up and running. Then he sighed. There wasn't any point in denying it. “Yeah.”

“You look different.” Her gaze roamed his face and body with curious abandon. Her eyes lingered on the raw, red marks on his wrists where he'd beat at the iron with a hammer he'd found on the boat.

“Most likely.” So this was someone who knew him. Yeah, he'd changed. Entering Angola, he'd been eighteen years old, thin and naive. He'd grown two inches, gained weight, and learned more about men in cages than he'd ever wanted to. He studied the girl, but couldn't place her. She seemed familiar, but he'd been gone five years. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head.

He made an impatient noise in his throat. “Can you stand?”

She shook her head again.

“Why not, if you're not hurt?” Fear gnawed at his gut. She had to get out here now. Why was she playing games? He just wanted her out of his hair.

“I just can't.” Her cheeks turned bright red. She shifted and a rose-tipped breast was exposed for a half second before she snatched the edges of her ripped shirt over it. His cock stirred and he turned away. No way would he allow himself to be turned on by this girl and lose his focus. All he wanted to do was get rid of her and get out of here before he was discovered. Climbing to his feet, he went to the bunk and took off a blanket. He handed it to her then turned his back. “Here.”

He heard her scramble to her feet and the soft swish of the material as it covered her. “I'm decent.”

He faced her. She stood huddled in the blanket like a pole in a tent. Only her head showed. “C'mon, I'll take you back to your Jeep.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I want to stay here.”

“You can't. I haven't got time for this.” He forced himself to stay calm. After what she'd been through, she wasn't rational. His mama lost her mind after being violated.

She narrowed her eyes and lips. “You don't have anything to say about it.”

“Pretty big talk coming from a little girl who got herself assaulted tonight. You looking for round two?” Jace chose his cruel words deliberately, hoping he sounded mean enough to make her leave.

“You wouldn't do that.” She sounded positive. “And I wasn't raped, thanks to you.”

“Relief filled him at her words. True, he'd never lay a hand on any woman but he wanted her out, now. Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?”