Waiting For Wren (Book Five In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series) (33 page)

He gave them a wiggle. “Yeah.”

“Good.” She tied off her work with a knot.

“Perfect.” JT stood from his lean against the dresser. “Now, Wren, I want you to pick up the lamp.”

“What?”

“Pick up the lamp.”

She stepped over to the bedside table and did as she was told.

“Unplug it.”

She reached down and yanked on the plug.

“Pretty Boy, come sit down right here.”

Tucker resisted until JT aimed the gun at Wren.

“Now.”

Tucker stood and sat on the spot JT pointed to with his foot.

“Wren, bring the lamp over to me.”

“What—what are you going to do?”

“Just bring me the lamp.”

She hesitated.

“You just mopped him up. Am I shooting again?”

Wren brought JT the lamp.

Before Tucker could turn his head, pain shot across his temple, and the world went black as Wren screamed.

Chapter 22

W
ren stared, frozen with horror as Tucker crumpled to the carpet. “Why did you do that?” She dropped to her knees, cradling Tucker, gently running trembling fingers over his skin, examining his injuries. A dark purple bruise had already bloomed, and blood oozed from the deep gash along his hairline. “Tucker, wake up.” She grabbed his limp hand, squeezing it in hers, willing him to do as she asked. “Please, wake up.”

JT stepped closer.

“Get away.” She gripped Tucker tight against her, shielding him with her body. She’d be damned if JT was going to hurt him again. “You leave him alone.”

“Oh relax. He’ll wake up soon enough. I’m finished with him for a while anyway. Now I want you.”

Her heart thundered, and she tried to ignore the outright fear surging through her as she continued stroking Tucker. He couldn’t help her any longer. Somehow she needed to save them both.

“Besides, he looks a hell of a lot better than Patrick did after I finished with him.” JT wiggled his brows, smirking.

She swallowed tears of powerlessness and rage as she thought of Patrick’s daily struggles to recover. And Tucker, he was so…still and vulnerable. “You’re disgusting. A horrible, disgusting coward.”

JT crouched next to Tucker and pressed the gun to his head. “I’d stop and think about what you say before you make me angry, Wren.”

She eyed the pistol jammed against Tucker’s scalp. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.” He shook his head dismissively. “Save your empty words.” He stood. “Go ahead and leave Pretty Boy alone. It’s time for us to begin.”

She caressed Tucker’s forehead once more as she stared at his gorgeous face, regretting, wondering if last night’s conversation in the elevator were the last happy words they would speak.

“Why?”

Her gaze shot to JT’s as his voice changed, growing cool. “Why what?”

“Better yet, let’s go with what?
What
is it about this man
that makes you look at him the way you do?”

She wasn’t sure how to answer. She was terrified to say the wrong thing. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Unlock the mystery. Make me understand why no one can
ever
get enough of Tucker Campbell. I mean I know he’s pretty, but…” He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“There’s more to Tucker than looks. He’s a good man—down in the bones good. He’s funny and sweet and loyal, and he’s smart.”

“He’s perfect. Got it. Sorry I asked.”

“No. He’s not perfect. He makes mistakes, just like you and me.”

“He’s got you wrapped around his finger.”

“Nobody wraps me around their finger. I ended our relationship, didn’t I?”

JT grinned. “You’re a hot ticket, Wren Cooke. I really do like you.”

“Then why do you want to hurt me?”

“Because he loves you. I said I
like
you. You’re gorgeous and smart—nothing wrong with a gorgeous, smart woman, but you became irresistible the day I discovered you and Tucker all snuggled up in my mother’s library. I would’ve been okay with you turning me down because you ‘weren’t looking for a relationship.’” He rolled his eyes as he made air quotes. “But then I realized the truth. You weren’t looking for a relationship with
me
.”

“I enjoyed our friendship. You were one of my good friends, JT.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand this. I don’t understand you. You’re an attractive, successful man. Why do you worry so much about what Tucker does and doesn’t have?”

“Because he’s always gotten what I wanted—the loving parents, the adoring sister, the girls. Every year the Campbells would swoop in from Monterey, more bonded and beautiful than ever. I tried to make good ol’ Lenora and Dave as proud of me as Tucker’s family was of him, but Auntie and Uncle barely paid attention.”

“Auntie and Uncle?” She frowned, confused by his ramblings. “What—”

“Yes.” He put a finger to his lips. “Our little secret,” he whispered, giving her a wink. “My mother couldn’t handle my ‘very unique needs.’” More air quotes. “A kid tries to light the house on fire and keep a few dead cats under his bed, and Mommy Dearest freaks and ships ya off to Uncle David and Aunt Lenora.” He shrugged as if what he said was neither here nor there.

She swallowed her disgust, fully grasping just how sick JT was. “That must have been—that must have been tough.”

“Such is life, Wren, such is life. My mother didn’t want me, neither did my aunt or uncle, nor did any of the girls. They never gave me a second glance, because they were always looking at
him
. Do you know how many miles I ran, how many weights I lifted? It never fucking mattered. Get up.”

She stood immediately with his lightning-fast change of mood, afraid he might try to hurt Tucker again.

“Look at these pictures.” He gestured to the photographs on Staci’s dresser. “His arm around a different girl. Taylor.” He tapped the pretty brunette clinging to Tucker. “Cheryl. Nora.
Jasmine
. And let’s not forget Staci—sister extraordinaire. She was special.” He stroked his finger along Staci’s cheek in the photo. “She was my friend. I loved her—as much as I’ve ever been able to love anyone.”

She struggled to suppress a shudder as his eyes transfixed on Staci. “Why did you do what you did? Why did you hurt that sweet, beautiful girl?”

“Because Jasmine chose Tucker. Because Staci loved him more.”

She shook her head, realizing she could never possibly understand. “She was his sister. His twin sister. Of course she loved him more.”

His finger stopped caressing as his eyes left the photograph to meet hers. “Don’t talk to me like that. Don’t look at me like you’re judging.”

Anger roiled deep, bursting through her veins. Fury was suddenly more predominant than her fear. “You ended her life in the most horrible of ways. She trusted you. And those girls—Alyssa and Chloe. You’re disgusting—a predator who uses your perceived wrongs as an excuse to do the unthinkable.”

JT’s hand shot up, slapping her across the cheek. “Shut up.”

She pressed her fingers to the sharp sting and took a step back.

“We’re done chatting. Take off your sweater.”

“No.” She stepped back again on legs that shook and felt like jelly.

He pointed the gun in Tucker’s direction, staring into her eyes. “Take it
off
.”

She yanked the soft cashmere over her head.

“Mmm,
mmm
. I’m definitely going to enjoy this. Boots and jeans.”

She stood perfectly still, refusing, until he shook his head and aimed his gun at Tucker. “Wren, this is going to happen. I’m going to rape you—three, maybe four times, ‘cause damn you’re beautiful. Then I’m going to strangle you while Pretty Boy watches. I want Tucker to see what Staci went through—and you. I’ll kill him after awhile, but I want him to suffer first. Take off those jeans.”

She glanced at Tucker, who still lay unconscious, and struggled with the zipper on her boots as her hands began to shake—the terror was back with a vengeance. Her stall tactics had proved useless. The cops weren’t coming. Tucker wasn’t waking up. She had to make a move; she had to do
something
.

She pulled one foot free, then the next, gripping the soft leather tight. Then she swung at his face with all her might.

The sharp heel connected with JT’s cheek, drawing blood. Surprise registered as he clutched at his wound, swearing. Seeing her moment, she took it, racing to the door and down the hall.

“Stupid, Wren. Really stupid idea,” he hollered as he chased after her.

She glanced behind her and screamed, realizing he had already caught up.

He hooked her around the waist, lifting her off her feet, and she used her elbows, ramming back at any part of his body she could reach.

“Let me go!” She kicked, hoping to connect with his balls. “Let me
go
!”

“I thought you were smart.” He gripped her tighter, and she could hardly breath. “If you like it rough, that’s all you had to say.” He brought her to the room, slamming the door, and rammed her back against the wood. He grinned down at her cruelly. “I usually like to watch my girls get naked, but I’m happy to help.” He held her in place and unbuttoned her jeans with his free hand. “Let’s get you out of these.” He pressed his firm body to hers, trapping her as he pulled her pants down her legs. “Black bra and panties. It’s almost like you knew you were going to get fucked.” He rubbed himself against her. “I’m tempted to take you right here, Wren, I really am, but it’s hotter if you’re tied up.”

“Monster!”

He took her face in his hands, squeezed. “I thought you said I was a predator.” He kissed both of her cheeks. “Make up your mind. Now lets turn you around.” He forced her to face the wall as he grabbed a length of black nylon identical to the stuff they found on Staci’s bed along with his “message.”

“You do understand that this is his fault. Just like the night Staci had to die. He made me kill her. He made me kill my friend, because he stole Jasmine away. Kind of like how he stole you. I watched him walk her home and shove his tongue down her throat, just like I watched you in the library. I pretty much decided right then and there that you were going to have to die eventually.” He pulled the rope tight around her wrists until it was biting into her skin, then tied it off. Tears raced down her cheeks, and she clenched her jaw, afraid her teeth would chatter, realizing her chances for escape were officially gone.

He turned her around and yanked her to Staci’s bed. “Lay down.” He shoved her down to the spot where Staci had been laying in the crime scene photos. “On your back.”

With little choice Wren lay on her tied hands.

“Damn, damn, damn, Wren. We’re talking centerfold material here. Where’s a camera when I need one? This is going to be the best one yet, and ironically perfect. Staci was a virgin when I had her. It was my first time too—sex and murder. This time around I’m plenty experienced, and so are you. And, Wren, I’ll be so much better than him.” He tossed Tucker a scathing look. “Like I said, this is going to be epic. I’m going to tie up Pretty Boy, and we’ll wait for him to come to, then…well you know what comes next, although maybe I’ll add a little foreplay. We’ll get you good and wet before I take the plunge—never had time for that. It’s always rush, rush, rush. If we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right.”

Wren looked away from the vile man grinning at her and stared at the flowery frame of Staci and Tucker smiling in a picture well over a decade old, praying that Staci’s nightmare had been mercifully faster than hers was about to be.

Tucker lay where he’d fallen, arm aching, head throbbing, eyes closed, listening to JT’s disgusting ramblings, waiting for his moment. He hated hearing Wren suffer, could hardly stand that she thought she was on her own, but they had one chance. He would either get this right or they would both die.

JT had knocked him out for mere seconds, but he’d remained still, devising his plan while Wren stroked soothing fingers along his forehead and clutched at his hand, begging him to wake up. He’d desperately wanted to give her a gentle squeeze and reassure her that everything was going to be okay, but their circumstances didn’t allow for gestures of comfort. He knew what he needed to do; the opportunity just had to present itself.

“You know, I’m looking forward to helping you out of that underwear, Wren.”

JT’s footsteps started toward Tucker and stopped. “In fact, maybe we should work on that now after all.”

“Please don’t do this,” Wren shuddered out as JT moved back in her direction.

Son of a bitch, he was ready to
end
this. Tucker clenched his jaw as a burning rage simmered in the depths of his being—for what JT was doing to Wren, for what he’d done to Staci, Alyssa, and Chloe. It was hell on earth knowing Wren lay mere feet away, helpless and terrified, but he didn’t dare move; his head spun as if he were on a tilt-a-whirl, leaving him nauseous, and his arm lay against his side, heavy and useless, while blood saturated his shirt. He needed JT to come to him so he could finish this once and for all.

“I had the opportunity to watch you and Pretty Boy go at it—”

“You—you watched Tucker and I have sex?”

“Mmm, I did. His Highness is a real Casanova. Clearly he knows how to satisfy you. I’m eager to show you what I can do. Let’s get to that bra, Sexy.”

“No, JT.”

“Oh, yes, Wren. Absolutely. I’ve been waiting a long time for this. Now stay still.”

Her movements stopped, and she whimpered as JT groaned. “A slide off the shoulder. So
seductive
. Maybe there is something to this whole undressing your victim thing. Do you like being my next victim, Wren?”

“Tucker,” she whispered. “Please wake up.”

“Oh, he can’t help you,” JT laughed. “Even when he does wake up.”

Goddamn, he couldn’t take it anymore. Enough was enough. Taking a chance, Tucker moved his boot along the carpet and let out a grunt.

JT’s crazy laughter stopped, and the room fell silent except for Wren’s trembling exhales.