Leslie leaned back from the desk and stretched with a rueful shake of her head. He thrilled her, confused her and pissed her off, but she was having fun for the first time in four years. Not just getting her submissive needs met, which was what she’d been settling for since joining The Barn, but actively enjoying herself with a man for the first time in a long, long while. The only nagging question that kept intruding and marring her enjoyment was, How long can this last?
Reno, Nevada
“I’m in.”
“It’s about fucking time,” Edwin snapped back, impatience tightening his gut as he gripped the phone. Swiveling his office chair around to look out the window of his downtown high rise, he cursed the time it had taken to find someone with the skills he needed and then make sure that person was willing and trustworthy to hack into government data. In the weeks since he’d buried his sons, the itch to see the woman responsible for their deaths wiped from the face of the earth had intensified. It wasn’t right she got to live after she’d sent his boys to that Godawful place where they didn’t belong.
“Look, I told you this wouldn’t be easy. The best hackers in the world work for the government so I had to move slowly and carefully.”
“It didn’t take you long to jump at the amount I offered,” Edwin snapped back, his impatience a live wire zapping his control. “Now, give me the information and we can be done.” He wrote down the whereabouts of the state’s witness, made arrangements for the final payment to be sent and then contacted the hired mercenary waiting to carry out his next orders. Once his man took care of Leanne Davis, a.k.a. Leslie Collins, Edwin might hire him to do away with the hacker. He’d learned early in his business dealings never to leave loose ends lying around for others to pick up.
Fifteen minutes later, satisfied with the mercenary’s promise to act fast, Edwin poured himself a whiskey and silently toasted the soon-to-be demise of the person who caused him such insurmountable grief.
Two days later
Leslie checked the time, grabbed her purse and started out to her car with a warm rush of anticipation threatening her resolve to stay detached from relationships. Somehow, during the last two weeks of going out with Kurt followed by submitting to whatever demands he commanded of her body, the need to guard against involvement had been overtaken by the escalating desire for more of Master Kurt’s sexual dominance and Kurt, the wealthy cattleman’s attention. It wasn’t until her phone rang as she slid behind the wheel and she saw Agent Summers name on the display that she was reminded how life could change on a dime.
It was too early for Cathy’s monthly check-in, which meant something had happened. Leslie’s throat closed as she gripped the phone, a sense of foreboding overshadowing her excitement for spending the day at Kurt’s ranch.
“Cathy. What’s up?”
“I’m sorry, Leslie. Word has just come down our system has been hacked. We’re not sure when, but best guess from our IT department is at least forty-eight hours. There’s no way to know if your identity has been compromised but we can get you moved within hours.”
Moved? Start over again with yet another name in yet another city where I know no one? Where I’ll be alone again? No, she couldn’t do it, wouldn’t do it. She remembered how the girls from the club reached out to her a few weeks ago despite the way she’d held back from getting too friendly and her eyes went damp; the faces of her second graders who were catching on to reading and learning addition and subtraction, of the ones who still needed extra help and the spontaneous hugs from others popped up, and her stomach cramped.
She thought of Kurt and her chest constricted. This was what she got for letting herself hope she could have a life here, for dropping her guard and getting involved, for losing the battle of caring too much.
“What are the odds Glascott is still holding a grudge or that whoever hacked your data bases would pass on the information?” She was grasping at straws, but didn’t care.
“This isn’t a Reno casino game were playing, Leslie. I didn’t want to add to your burden by saying anything sooner, but we’ve kept feelers out on Edwin Glascott and rumor has it he took those boys’ deaths hard and has been in a volatile state of mind ever since. Do you honestly want to take the risk of staying where you’re at, because I can’t force you to leave?” Cathy’s exasperation and empathy rang in Leslie’s ear.
She didn’t want to cause her grief. She also couldn’t bear it if, by staying, she put someone else in the crosshairs of whoever Glascott might send after her. God help her, if it was just herself she had to worry about, she would honestly consider saying to hell with the risk. But the last attempt on her life proved how easy someone else could get caught in the crosshairs and end up hurt, or worse, for no other reason than they were with her.
“I can’t be ready in a few hours. I have to contac
t the school principal. I won’t disappear on them without a word.” And she longed to see Kurt one more time, owed it to him to tell him good-bye in person. The tears swimming in her eyes dripped down her face and she swiped them off with the back of a hand. Lamenting her circumstances wouldn’t help, only delay the inevitable.
“I’ll get everything set up. Call me when you’re ready. We’ll take care of the apartment. We can also take care of contacting your boss, if you’d rather,” Cathy offered in understanding.
“No, but thank you. It’s Sunday, but he won’t mind if I call him. I’ll make up a family emergency and be in touch this evening.”
Leslie hung up before she changed her mind. Those fleeting thoughts of staying and taking her chances were dismissed as soon as the memory of her neighbor jerking and falling against her from a drive by gunshot wound popped up unbidden. Her fingers shook as she started the car and pulled out, her mind racing with what she would say to Kurt. He was astute at reading her expressions and seeing through her lies. The truth might be her best bet, after all, what could he say or argue about? He’d likely escort her off his ranch as soon as she told him everything he’d been pestering her to reveal about herself, and she wouldn’t blame him.
As she left Billings and got onto the highway, following Kurt’s detailed instructions, she railed against being thrust into another situation where doing the right thing required such heartache. With despair clogging her throat and cramping her abdomen and her thoughts centered on what she would tell him, Leslie didn’t notice the car on her tail, or see it swerve around until it sped by her so fast she jumped.
“Moron,” she muttered, glaring at the taillights disappearing over the rise ahead. There was little traffic on this outstretch, with nothing but miles of prairie on either side of the road with an occasional turnoff here and there. The isolation made it easy to let her mind wander until a loud rapport, sounding like a car backfiring, came out of nowhere, disturbing the peaceful quietness of the countryside. Startled, Leslie gripped the steering wheel tighter, her rear tire blowing in the next instant, shaking her even more.
With a panicked cry, she hit the brakes as the car lurched to the side, icy fear twisting around her heart and stealing her breath as another shot pinged against the back side. Leslie barely had time to acknowledge someone was shooting at her before she hit a rut and went airborne for one horrifying second. A terrified scream ripped from her throat as the car came crashing down on the passenger side, tossing her against the door with a jarring, painful impact, her head cracking on the window before leaving her dangling sideways in the seatbelt. Her vision swam, bile rising into her throat. Pain engulfed her whole body, dread cramped her muscles and then agonizing despair pulled her under.
Chapter 9
“I talked to your therapist last night.” Kurt glared at his father and then glanced at the time again. Leslie was late, which put him in no mood for another sparring match with Leland. But, after speaking with Tamara last night at the club and hearing how much more he was capable of doing with a little effort, Kurt felt this couldn’t wait. “Give me one good reason why you can’t put yourself out to go to physical therapy more than once a week.”
Leland’s jaw went taut and he shifted his stormy eyes out the window again. “It’s my life. Quit nagging me about it.”
Frustrated, Kurt strode across the bedroom to stand in front of Leland’s chair and bent down to grip the armrests, getting in his face. This attitude of his was so unlike the strong-willed parent who never let anything hold him back. As he’d often told Kurt, ranching was in his blood and there was nothing he would rather do, regardless of the wealth that afforded him a much easier life.
“Tamara said you should be strong enough by now to move from the parallel bars to a walker, and eventually a cane, but you refuse to try. Damn it, Dad, you’re the one who should be running this place, not me, not yet.”