Chapter Nine
Head down, Troy muttered he was going to have a shower and left the room.
Too full of endorphins to care, Stacey reveled in the scent of him on her and the way her sex throbbed with residual pleasure. She lay back and stretched, knowing the man could become addictive.
A craving too intense to resist.
Once this crazy ordeal was over, she’d have to forget him, before he wormed his way into her bloodstream. The guy thought he was above the law, but she got what he was about. Family.
Brian could be damned stubborn. An uncommunicative grunter. Impossible. How the hell did she attract these sorts of men into her life? Silent men, who only opened their mouths to issue orders.
Like Troy.
Maybe it had something to do with the military life. Her stepfather was a pain in the ass, but despite that, her mother adored him and was able to coax him out of his moods, fussing over him, hugging and kissing him until he became putty to her touch.
Stacey wasn’t that kind of woman.
Play and walk away. After being used so badly by her last man, that’s how she wanted it.
Troy came back into the room, his towel slung low over his hips. Good God, the man was worse than chocolate. Her mouth watered at the mere sight of him. She longed to run her fingers over his ripped abdomen. He was a wall of muscle, sexy and dangerous. It was like opening a gift with a warning label on the package.
“Get up, Stacey. I have a job for you.”
“What? I don’t clean.”
She sat up, and his gaze zeroed in on her naked breasts before he averted it. His mouth formed a grim line. She still had rash marks where he’d kissed her there.
“Go wash up.” He reached into his wardrobe, pulled out a T-shirt, and tossed it to her.
A ripple of alarm ran up her spine. She was sticky, her mind and body in a love haze. Thank God she’d gotten an injection just over three months ago, or she’d be in huge trouble right now because the thought of using a condom had never even crossed her mind this morning. Still, it was time to get another injection because she didn’t like taking her contraceptive to the edge.
She went to the bathroom, stepped into the tub, and washed all traces of him away. Except, it wasn’t so easy. After she dried herself and pulled on his T-shirt, his woodsy scent was still all over her.
She opened the bathroom cabinet to look for a hair tie because sleeping on her long damp hair had turned it to riotous curls.
“There’s nothing you can use as a weapon there.” She turned. He was standing at the bathroom door, his eyes narrowed, his nostrils pinched.
“Just what am I supposed to be attacking you with? A toothpick?” She held one up.
“What do you need?”
“A hair tie or scrunchy.” Her gaze flicked to the bedroom. “I’d like my hair off my face, so I can see better when I gut you with the toothpick.”
His mouth twitched, but he didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he strode into the kitchen and returned holding an elastic band, and in his other hand, her cell phone. She recognized its flowery cover.
Her pulse zoomed. Freedom!
She took the elastic, pulled her hair into a knot on the top of her head, and held out her hand for her phone. “What do you want?”
“Call your brother.” Troy’s face was grim.
“Why don’t you call him?”
“I’ve tried. He won’t pick up.”
“But he will for me.”
“Smart girl.” He took her by the arm and propelled her into the sitting room.
She jerked her arm from his grasp. She’d have a bruise tomorrow.
“Tell him to bring Lizzie home.”
“You said you’d bash him.”
“Yeah. If he has hurt Lizzie.” Troy’s face was implacable.
“He hasn’t. I know my brother.” Stacey swiped the cell phone from him, punched in Brian’s number, and waited for him to pick up.
“Put the phone on speaker,” Troy ordered.
She did as he asked.
“Stacey?” Brian’s voice sounded sleepy.
“Brian, I need to talk to you. Troy has taken me to his place, and he’s keeping me here. He says you’ve kidnapped Lizzie, his sister. I know you wouldn’t do anything like that. I know you haven’t hurt her.” She waited desperately for her brother’s response, Troy standing grimly by her side. “Right?”
“Stacey,” Brian’s voice was hoarse. “Has he hurt you?”
“Not yet, you bastard,” Troy said.
She turned to him. Anger had suffused his face with blood, so the skin around his throat was dark. He looked dangerous. She stepped backward, but he gripped her wrist, his fingers digging into her flesh.
Sharp, stark fear made Brian’s voice drop an octave. “Where are you? I’ll save you.” She could almost hear his mind ticking over as he worked out what to do.
Brian was no coward. He’d done four years in the navy before he’d joined their dad in the car parts business. But she didn’t want a hero. She didn’t want her brother maimed, or worse.
“Let go, Troy. You’re hurting me,” she said, pulling away.
He snatched the phone out of her hand. “I have Stacey. Bring Lizzie home. Now.”
“I can’t do that,” Brian said.
“Put my sister on the phone,” Troy ordered harshly.
“She can’t talk to you at the moment,” Brian said.
“Why not? I want proof she’s okay,” Troy said, menace oozing off him.
Stacey stepped back, rubbing her wrist. This was not good. Why didn’t her brother just cooperate?
“She’s out,” Brian said. “And when she gets back, she’s staying right by my side.”
“Listen here, you fucking fool. You mess with a Slayer’s woman, you die,” Troy said.
“You don’t scare me, you prick,” Brian said.
“Brian!” Stacey shrieked, gripping Troy’s arm, but he shook her off like she was a pup. She recognized the stubbornness in Brian’s tone. Demanding something of Brian never got the right response. She’d lived with him, seen Dad beat the crap out of him when he was younger.
It never got Dad anywhere, either.
“Give me the phone, Troy. You’re doing this all wrong.” She fought to get the phone. She knew she’d get a better result talking to him than Troy’s threats.
Troy rounded on her, and she froze. She was staring at a murderous mask. A stone-cold killer. An icy shard of terror speared down her spine.
“Listen, fuckwit. If you love your sister, you’ll do what I say, or I’ll mail Stacey back to you in pieces.”
Sickened by this new side of Troy, a side she’d never have believed after last night, she backed away until she was pressed against the wall. “Brian, don’t come home,” she screamed. “He’ll kill you.”
Troy stalked over to her and held the phone up. “I’ll give you a sample of what’s to come.”
“Get away from me!”
He grabbed her and twisted her arm behind her back, marching her toward the veranda, which overhung the bayou. He shoved her forward, so her hips slammed against the railing, and, holding her in place with his own, pushed her torso forward over the water. There were alligators lying below in the bayou, their great, ancient bodies unmoving until the noise alerted them like a summons.
She cried out in pain and in terror.
What he was doing hurt her body, but what really seared her heart was his betrayal.
How could he have sex with her one minute, then act like a cold, hard animal the next?
“You swore you wouldn’t hurt me!” she cried.
An enormous alligator propelled itself upward toward her. A screamed rose up inside her, all sense of reason gone as its great gaping jaws opened wide.
“Stacey!” Brian yelled through the phone, his voice hoarse.
“I’ll tear her apart. Torture her until she begs to die,” Troy snarled. “I want to hear my sister’s voice.”
The alligator’s jaws snapped below her. Her heart plunged into her mouth. It seemed too far away to get her, but common sense had fled with her wits. She was certain she was going to die!
Troy pulled her back and into his arms.
Every single part of her was trembling. Despite the heat, her hands and feet were freezing. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her legs crumbled under her. And everything went black.