If the Dark Wins (Finley Creek Book 4) Read online

  She didn’t even move.

  Within moments, two more gurneys were wheeled by.

  Hard hands wrapped around his shoulders and he looked up into his big brother’s eyes. “Travis.”

  “Rafe, Lacy?” She’d looked too much like another blonde he’d loved and lost at that moment. Marc’s wife had looked just that vulnerable the day they lost her, too.

  “Compound fracture at the least. And there was some trauma to her left side. We may be talking about internal bleeding, Travis, but we’re not sure. They’re going to take good care of her. What the hell happened out there?”

  “She didn’t tell me—or let me see. She wouldn’t. Too worried about them. And she was walking and talking.” Why hadn’t he looked closer? He’d been so focused on Jillian, he hadn’t looked that closely at Lacy, had he? Because she’d told him she was ok. “Jillian and Ariella?”

  Rafe hesitated. Travis swore at what his brother wasn’t telling him.

  “I can’t tell you too much, Trav. Privacy rules.”

  “Just how are they?”

  “I’ll find out what I can in a few moments. Call Chance. Tell them what’s happened.”

  THE BECKS ARRIVED in full force only moments after Rafe returned. Travis kept his eyes on his brother. Rafe had the information Travis wanted. “Rafe—Lacy?”

  His brother held up a hand. “First. Legal next-of-kin present?”

  “I have power-of-attorney for all three in case of a joint event,” Barratt’s wife stepped through the crowd. The crowd parted for her. “How are they?”

  “Being treated. Ariella has a concussion, lacerations, and broken ribs. She lost consciousness for a few moments, but is awake now. We’re watching, making certain the rib doesn’t shift or puncture the lung. But she is now awake. If someone wants to sit with her—”

  “Lacy?” Travis demanded.

  “She’s still in surgery, Travis.” Rafe looked at him pointedly. “Jillian—the gunshot wound wasn’t significant, but the extended bleeding was. She got lucky she made it here in time. She’s now stable; she does have a concussion and injuries from her seatbelt. She’ll be here for a day or two and she’s going to be very sore, but she’s going to be fine.”

  “You said gunshot wound?” Barratt’s wife asked, a note of panic in her voice. “Where? Who?”

  “Her leg. No arterial damage. Just fatty tissue. But they walked—ran—almost a mile for help. Jillian bled significantly along the way. She will be fine, though. As for Dr. McGareth, she fractured her arm and it is a significant break. We’re talking blood loss, and trauma to her left ribs and abdomen as well. Thankfully, there are no signs of internal bleeding. A sprain of her left leg. And a concussion. That’s what I know now. We’ve ordered a few more tests to be certain. I’ll let you know more when I can.”

  “She’s been up there over an hour, Rafe.” Travis knew they were all looking at him but he didn’t care. “How much longer?”

  “It’ll be a few more hours, Travis. The break is a complicated one.” Rafe looked around the rest of the room. “I’ll level with you; if the damage can’t be repaired, it could mean a loss of functionality and mobility in her left arm. McG—Lacy is strong and determined. Her surgeon, Dr. Patel, will be down once the surgery is finished. He’s a friend of hers, and will take good care of her.”

  “When can we see them?” Kevin Beck asked. “Our girls?”

  “They are getting Jillian settled now, though she’s sedated. She’s in room 403. Annie will be with you when you can go back. Ariella is already in the room next door. She’s awake and Fin Coulter is sitting with her.”

  “So now that we know how they are doing, could someone please tell us what in the hell happened to them? Travis?” Travis’ cousin Chance demanded.

  “From what I could piece together, someone slammed into them on the highway a mile past my drive. They were able to get out, Jillian’s car, I think--then the bastard started shooting at them. They ran. I heard the shots. And came outside with my own rifle. The guy took off, some of my men chased him off. And I got them here soon as I could.”

  “Get Elliot here now,” Barratt’s wife ordered someone. Her husband rubbed her shoulder once, and rocked her gently. “We need to figure out who. And fast. If it was a kidnapping attempt...”

  “I’m already on it, Mel,” Chance said. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep them safe. Rafe, we’re putting guards on their rooms.”

  The next few hours passed, somehow. Travis just stood and waited and thought of her. And what was he really wanted. It wasn’t going to be a game between them any longer.

  67

  She wasn't so much of the she-devil now. Damn it. Rafe’s lungs burned with an unholy anger when he thought about it. Not a one of those girls had deserved what happened tonight. When he thought of Lacy McGareth and how much she obviously meant to his brother, and when he looked at Jillian Beck, every spark of fire out of her, he raged inside.

  It wasn't right.

  He far preferred Jillian Beck snipping and snapping at him like she had just a few hours ago to this pale little waif, who was fighting sleep with everything she had. Rafe stepped up closer to the bed. “Rest. You're not doing anyone any good by fighting it."

  "Elliot will be here soon. He'll have questions. And if he won't, Houghton will."

  "Why your brother-in-law?"

  "Isn’t it obvious? Don't you watch the news? There’s been a rash kidnappings between here and Chicago. How much do you think my family would pay to get me back? Or Lacy? Your brother Luc would bankrupt himself to get Ari back. No question. What if they had gotten all three of us?"

  "How many men were out there, Jillian?" Someone asked from the door. Rafe turned to see his older cousin standing there.

  "Elliot, I was waiting for you to get here." She tried to shift herself on the bed, but couldn’t. Rafe bit back a curse and lifted her slightly. It was far too easy to do.

  "Well, it was either Daniel McKellen or me. I figured you'd be more comfortable with me. I send Daniel in with Ariella. She likes him."

  “Is someone else in with her?” Jillian tried to shift on the bed again. Rafe helped her quickly before the little stubborn mule hurt herself even more.

  "Mel’s with her now. We figured Ari would be more comfortable with her in there, guiding the questions."

  "I only saw one man, Elliot."

  "Start at the beginning, close your eyes and tell me exactly what happened."

  Rafe really had no excuse to stay in the room with her. But he wanted to know exactly what had happened, as well. There was no way Elliot was going to chase him out. Rafe crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the air conditioning unit. He kept his eyes on the diminutive redhead as she began to speak.

  "We left the hospital, I'm not sure when."

  "Almost seven, Elliot." He’d been ready to leave himself, but had gotten caught up until around eight-thirty. He’d been making his way to the doors when he’d been paged.

  Jillian looked at Rafe. She nodded lightly. "Yes, it was just after seven. We stopped off at the home repair store. I'd never been there before, but Lacy had. With Travis, the day he fixed her porch. So she knew her way around, and we were in a hurry. We needed to get glue. And underlayment, for Lacy’s floor. So we got it, loaded as much of it into the trunk as we could and squeezed Ariella into the back of my car with the rest of it. We swung through the drive-thru at 17th; you know, Mamaw’s place. And then I drove toward Lacy’s. We were about five miles from her turnoff. At the old highway that connects her ranch to Travis’. We were about a mile or two miles, maybe even three away from his place I think. I've never been there. We just came around that last curve next to that little creek. You know the one with the little bridge that had been painted bright red probably one hundred years ago? And then he was there. An SUV, huge engine. He was right behind us, so I sped up. Did everything Mel taught me to do. But it didn't matter, he pulled up alongside of us and it was so dark I couldn't see
him. He may have even turned his lights off. I know it is like he was there and then he was just gone. And then he hit us." As she spoke her composure faltered. Rafe stood where he was and fought his own rage.

  "Slow down. Take a deep breath. You're safe, Jilly. I promise." Elliot said, patting her hand lightly.

  She pulled in a breath. "My head cracked into the window. There are no airbags in my car. And then we stopped moving; we must've spun. We had a tree on Lacy’s side. But not by her door. I tried to open my door, because his lights were there again. Pointed right at us. My door was bent too much to open it. Ariella was moving behind me. She'd been in the rear center seat. Away from the doors, with those roles of underlayment around her. She reached out between us; touched my shoulder, I think. I told her I was okay. But I couldn't get out. Lacy still hadn't said anything. I think she was knocked out. I tried to get her to wake up. Ariella did, too. But she wouldn’t wake up. He revved his engine. I thought he was going to slam into us again, and we were trapped. We were trapped, Elliot. I couldn't get out. Even if I could, I wasn't sure Ariella had time to get out behind me. We got out and got Lacy on her feet. But he was there and we were hurt. I knew…I knew he was going to come for us. His engine was revving. I thought he was going to run over us right there. So we ran. Lacy said to go to Travis. That we would be safe there. So we ran and ran. Up that little hill, the incline. And then Ari cried out. There was blood on her head that hadn't been there before. He was shooting at us and he’d almost killed her. Someone was shooting. But it sounded like more than one gun; it did. It did. So we just kept running. Lacy was trying to but she was struggling. Ari could move faster than we could so we told her to go ahead, to get to help. So she kept going. I took Lacy’s gun. The pistol she always carries since Albright shot Ari. I took her gun. There were fifteen rounds.” Her voice flattened as she continued to speak. Rafe just listened.

  “I held it, just like Mel taught me. I fired. And then we kept running; they were in front of me. I told them to go, to get Lacy to help. And then he shot me. I fell, then I kept running. I caught up to them as they were struggling with the electric fence. Lacy’s hand—she couldn't do it. So we went under the fence. And then we ran to Travis. And he brought us here."

  She was crying, Elliot was holding her hand. Annie was patting Jillian’s head. Whispering reassurances.

  Jillian was crying. Rafe felt utterly useless.

  "I'm going to find them, Jilly. I promise I'm going to find them. You're safe. No one’s going to hurt you here. I'm going to leave Evers and Callum here; they're going to guard you and Lacy and Ari. Okay? And I'm going to find the man who hurt you."

  Rafe followed his cousin out into the hall. "Who do you think it was, Elliot?"

  "I made a few calls to some contacts I have. Jillian’s brother-in-law is with the FBI out of St. Louis. There have been a rash of kidnappings in Missouri that match this M.O. We’re certain it was the same organization. The girls were damned lucky. They usually have more than one car involved in the abductions.”

  "St. Louis? How is that significant?"

  "Ariella Avery’s older brother, Davis Lucas. Lucas Technologies. Guy’s worth as much as Jillian’s brother-in-law. Someone gets them? Double payday, with an extra bonus for Dr. McGareth. Simply because of her connection to the other two. Or they would have killed Lacy as incentive. Everyone knows Houghton and Luc will pay. Average ransom demand has been in the low millions. Not all the victims have been returned safely. It’s never the rich guys themselves. It’s always wives, girlfriends, kids, sisters, connections that might not necessarily be protected well. Chance has been beside himself, even though there was no indication the ring extended down into Texas until tonight. Can you imagine how much Brynna would fetch? In her current condition? With Chance working directly for Houghton Barratt?"

  Someone desperate for that kind of money wouldn’t just stop because of hospital security guards. And like it or not, his sister, was one of the targets, too. Rafe would do what had to be done. "Just to be on the safe side, I'm assigning an extra guard at this floor. For the duration. In the meantime, I'm going to see if I can get Travis to go home."

  "Good luck with that. I don't think that'll happen. Those three…they mean the world to my family. Lacy’s the same age as Sara would have been, Rafe. And just as snotty. I always think that when I see her, and I know that if Sara was out there almost alone like Lacy I’d want someone to watch over her. As for Ari and Jilly? I’ve known Jillian since she was an infant. I changed her diaper once. That matters. She’s named after my mother. Someone tried to kill her tonight. That doesn’t sit lightly with me. And Ari? She’s so damned unworldly at times. Hell, the Becks, you and your brothers, you’re all the real family we have left. We don't take that lightly."

  Rafe knew exactly what his cousin meant. Travis, Marcus, their mother, and Marcus’ two children were all that Rafe had.

  After Elliot left, Rafe peaked his head back into Jillian’s room. Just to check on her one more time. The little redheaded she-devil had finally drifted off to sleep.

  She looked nothing like the demon he knew her to be. Damn the sonofabitch who had hurt her. Annoying as she was to him, she hadn't deserved this.

  68

  They’d put them in 403 and 404. Next to each other. Logan understood why.

  Everyone was so frightened. Jillian Beck and Lacy were the darlings of FCGH. All knew that. To see them hurt was terrifying to all who knew them.

  Guilt threatened to make him vomit.

  He could have killed them. Logan signed off on the sweet brunette’s discharge before Holden-Deane could. He’d needed to see her for himself, too.

  He’d almost shot this innocent young woman in the head. She’d always have a scar. A visible reminder of what he’d done to her.

  Yet she’d just smiled at him, sweetly thanking him for taking care of her.

  Logan patted her hand lightly, letting his fingers linger on her beautiful, soft skin. When had he last felt such soft, soft skin?

  She looked at him questioningly, and he covered by checking her pulse.

  He studied her for a moment. She was just as beautiful as her friends, even in the old shirt and jeans; beautiful, elegant, kind. She hadn’t deserved what he had done.

  Holden-Deane barged in, coming in past the cop on the door. Logan had had a devil of a time convincing the guard he had a right to be there himself. Not so Holden-Deane. He could go anywhere he wanted.

  The girl tensed. “Ra—Rafe.”

  “Ariella.”

  Logan understood.

  The girl was frightened of Holden-Deane. Why? What hold did the Deanes have on her?

  Wasn’t she the one who had been so beautiful dancing with the governor, who had organized that entire charity event?

  She would look good as a politician’s wife. But why was she so frightened?

  “Holden-Deane, we’re getting ready to discharge Ms. Avery soon. As soon as she has someone to drive her home.”

  He fully expected it to be the governor. It would make quite a political statement in Marcus’ anti-violence campaign for him to be seen accompanying this girl around, considering who she was connected to.

  “I’m just going next door. I’m going to sit with Jilly and Lacy.”

  Holden-Deane protested. “They are fine. You need to rest.”

  “I’m ok.” Her chin went up, stubbornly. Yet she didn’t really fight his high-handedness.

  Logan felt the undercurrents. She was so frightened he couldn’t leave her there alone.

  “They’re in for another twenty-four?” Logan asked. Holden-Deane had assumed total control of their care and everyone knew it.

  “Yes. Just to be on the safe side.”

  “Are they ok?” Ariella asked.

  Holden-Deane wrapped a ham-sized hand around her elbow. “Ariella…”

  “I need to know.”

  “Basically, casts and crutches. Bruises. They’re going to be fine. I’m only keeping t
hem as a precaution since both have had previous concussions in the last eight months. But they are going to heal. I can promise you that. You’re not going to lose them. Either of them.”

  LOGAN GOT his chance to check for himself during his evening rounds. He slipped into room 403 after his last patient, near ten that evening.

  Not surprising, both women were sound asleep. Jillian was by the door, curled on her uninjured side like a little red kitten. Her soft, sweet mouth was slightly parted. She looked about twelve.

  She had a nasty bruise on her temple.

  Logan would always be haunted by that bruise.

  He just watched her sleep for a long time before stepping over to Lacy.

  Her hair had been braided. She wore a large green tee shirt emblazoned with W-Deane Ranch across the front.

  Logan forced himself to forget that Deane was written right across her breasts.

  Worthington-Deane would stop at nothing to claim her, to gloat that she was currently his, instead of Logan’s like she should be.

  She shifted, her uninjured arm slipping half off the narrow mattress. Logan wrapped his fingers around her wrist before he even realized he was moving. He counted the steady beat of her pulse against his skin.

  He held her for a very long time.

  Until Holden-Deane showed up. Again. At nearly eleven at night. Why?

  Logan covered his presence with a weak excuse and hurried from room 403.

  Rafael Holden-Deane was there for Jillian, no doubt. Watching over her, even though they argued so frequently.

  At least, Logan consoled himself with the knowledge that someone would be there to watch over Lacy, too.

  69

  There was a large man standing over her when Lacy opened her eyes. “Holden-Deane.”

  “Hey, McGareth, way to make an entrance. I’m starting to figure you out.” He checked her vitals quickly.