Holding Strong
Page 141
For Denver’s sake, Cherry hoped it worked out. “And?”
“It was difficult for both of us. He’s... Well, he’s being kinder than I could have hoped. I think he’s willing to keep the peace right now because he badly wants to mend things with his son.” She let out a shuddering breath. “He said he’d already suspected much of it. The more he thought about it, the more he doubted his own initial reaction. He didn’t want to believe it of me—I don’t even want to believe it of me—but he couldn’t believe it of Denver.”
That was a good start, Cherry decided. So then why did she suddenly feel so uneasy? They were very near the pool house and the elaborate in-ground pool. Rubbing her upper arms to remove the gooseflesh, she looked back at the house. It seemed so far away even though, for convenience sake, the pool was located fairly closely to the back patio.
Turning a full circle, she searched while pretending to admire the beautiful grounds. “This is amazing.”
“Thank you. The pool house was already here, but I changed the roof and added landscaping around it.”
Absently, Cherry said, “You have very good taste.” When the shrubbery behind the pool house trembled, her uneasiness escalated.
She took Pamela’s hand, meaning to lead her away. “The men are probably waiting for us now.” Heart pounding in unmistakable dread, she turned to go—and Carver stepped out, a gun drawn and aimed right at her. Mitty was beside him, laughing in that maniacal way of his.
“Hello, little sister.”
Everything stopped for Cherry—her breath, her pulse, the air around her. “What are you doing here?” she rasped.
At the same time, Pamela said, “Carver?” Confused, she looked at the gun, then at Cherry. “Sister?”
Cherry gaped at her. “You know him?”
“He’s Denver’s friend.”
Groaning, Cherry folded her arms around her stomach as it cramped with fear and misery.
“Yeah,” Carver laughed. “Denver’s sweet stepmama told me where and when to find you both.”
“I...” Feeling the obvious tension, Pamela frowned with worry. “What are you doing, Carver?”
He laughed, the sound disturbed. “You’re as gullible as she is. Denver’s friend? Hell no. Right about now, Gene will be gutting the bastard.”
“No!” Cherry started to run and with every step her fear spiraled. Wasn’t this exactly what she’d expected? A surprise ambush. A cowardly attack when it was least expected.
She sensed Carver chasing her down and pushed harder, but her heels were sinking into the lush lawn and her lungs tightened, making it impossible to breathe.
Then a hand snatched at her hair, jerking her back forcefully. She cried out as Carver squeezed her against him.
Desperate, nearly hysterical, she fought him until he pressed the gun to her temple.
His hot breath in her ear, he whispered, “None of that now, sweet Cherry.”
“What have you done?” She meant to shout it, but it came as only a squeak of sound. Gene was good with the knife, and just as Carver enjoyed tormenting, Gene enjoyed cutting. No, no, no. Not Denver. “Please,” she pleaded. “Don’t do this.”
Carver twisted his hand in her hair, but spoke to Pamela. “Sorry babe, but I need you to stay put. Mitty, hang on to her. If either of you make a single sound, I’ll start shooting.”
He was worried about her screaming? Did that mean Gene hadn’t gotten to Denver yet? Uncaring about her own peril, leaving Pamela to fend for herself, Cherry sucked in a great lungful of air and let loose a banshee cry that sent a flock of birds into flight.
“Jesus! Shut the fuck up.” Carver jerked her around and shook her hard until her knees gave out and she dropped to the ground, her head rattled and her limbs weak. He crouched beside her, his hand braced hard on her throat. “You used to hide.”
“I had to.”
His fingers tightened. “You always dodged out on me and no matter where I looked I couldn’t find you.”
“You wanted to rape me!”
“I wanted you, period. All kinds of want, Cherry.” He breathed a little deeper while he looked at her body. “No place for you to hide now, is there?”
“You’re going to be sorry.” Somehow she’d make it so.
The threat didn’t faze him, but his fingers squeezed more until she gasped and clawed at his hand. Smiling, he eased up the pressure. “It pisses me off to think of that long-haired Neanderthal fucking you night after night.”
“It was difficult for both of us. He’s... Well, he’s being kinder than I could have hoped. I think he’s willing to keep the peace right now because he badly wants to mend things with his son.” She let out a shuddering breath. “He said he’d already suspected much of it. The more he thought about it, the more he doubted his own initial reaction. He didn’t want to believe it of me—I don’t even want to believe it of me—but he couldn’t believe it of Denver.”
That was a good start, Cherry decided. So then why did she suddenly feel so uneasy? They were very near the pool house and the elaborate in-ground pool. Rubbing her upper arms to remove the gooseflesh, she looked back at the house. It seemed so far away even though, for convenience sake, the pool was located fairly closely to the back patio.
Turning a full circle, she searched while pretending to admire the beautiful grounds. “This is amazing.”
“Thank you. The pool house was already here, but I changed the roof and added landscaping around it.”
Absently, Cherry said, “You have very good taste.” When the shrubbery behind the pool house trembled, her uneasiness escalated.
She took Pamela’s hand, meaning to lead her away. “The men are probably waiting for us now.” Heart pounding in unmistakable dread, she turned to go—and Carver stepped out, a gun drawn and aimed right at her. Mitty was beside him, laughing in that maniacal way of his.
“Hello, little sister.”
Everything stopped for Cherry—her breath, her pulse, the air around her. “What are you doing here?” she rasped.
At the same time, Pamela said, “Carver?” Confused, she looked at the gun, then at Cherry. “Sister?”
Cherry gaped at her. “You know him?”
“He’s Denver’s friend.”
Groaning, Cherry folded her arms around her stomach as it cramped with fear and misery.
“Yeah,” Carver laughed. “Denver’s sweet stepmama told me where and when to find you both.”
“I...” Feeling the obvious tension, Pamela frowned with worry. “What are you doing, Carver?”
He laughed, the sound disturbed. “You’re as gullible as she is. Denver’s friend? Hell no. Right about now, Gene will be gutting the bastard.”
“No!” Cherry started to run and with every step her fear spiraled. Wasn’t this exactly what she’d expected? A surprise ambush. A cowardly attack when it was least expected.
She sensed Carver chasing her down and pushed harder, but her heels were sinking into the lush lawn and her lungs tightened, making it impossible to breathe.
Then a hand snatched at her hair, jerking her back forcefully. She cried out as Carver squeezed her against him.
Desperate, nearly hysterical, she fought him until he pressed the gun to her temple.
His hot breath in her ear, he whispered, “None of that now, sweet Cherry.”
“What have you done?” She meant to shout it, but it came as only a squeak of sound. Gene was good with the knife, and just as Carver enjoyed tormenting, Gene enjoyed cutting. No, no, no. Not Denver. “Please,” she pleaded. “Don’t do this.”
Carver twisted his hand in her hair, but spoke to Pamela. “Sorry babe, but I need you to stay put. Mitty, hang on to her. If either of you make a single sound, I’ll start shooting.”
He was worried about her screaming? Did that mean Gene hadn’t gotten to Denver yet? Uncaring about her own peril, leaving Pamela to fend for herself, Cherry sucked in a great lungful of air and let loose a banshee cry that sent a flock of birds into flight.
“Jesus! Shut the fuck up.” Carver jerked her around and shook her hard until her knees gave out and she dropped to the ground, her head rattled and her limbs weak. He crouched beside her, his hand braced hard on her throat. “You used to hide.”
“I had to.”
His fingers tightened. “You always dodged out on me and no matter where I looked I couldn’t find you.”
“You wanted to rape me!”
“I wanted you, period. All kinds of want, Cherry.” He breathed a little deeper while he looked at her body. “No place for you to hide now, is there?”
“You’re going to be sorry.” Somehow she’d make it so.
The threat didn’t faze him, but his fingers squeezed more until she gasped and clawed at his hand. Smiling, he eased up the pressure. “It pisses me off to think of that long-haired Neanderthal fucking you night after night.”
