Page 53 of Lone Star Country Protector
Another blow to the back of her head made her dizzy. It hit with such force that her teeth rattled. A dark cloud was closing in over her brain, but she knew better than to give in to it. She knew 100 percent that she would be dead before she ever opened her eyes again if she allowed the darkness that was threatening to close around her like a heavy cloak.
No way in hell did this sonofabitch get to win. Not as long as she had air in her lungs.
She had to make a move. It was now or never.
Blakely fought like a wild banshee, pushing against the tight grip around her arms.
“I got you,” came the voice. “You won’t get away this time.” There was so much anger and frustration in a voice that was so unfamiliar to her. “You’ll pay for scratching me up before, honey.”
Her next thought was this bastard had scared her nephew into hiding. Anger fired through her, giving her a boost of adrenaline. With it, she mounted another fight. This man had the strength of an ox. Fighting was no use.
So she screamed at the top of her lungs.
There was no one around in the parking lot, but she expected Jules to turn her head. When she didn’t, all hope Dalton’s sister might still be alive was dead. This animal had just murdered a US marshal. He would think nothing of doing the same thing to a judge.
Her thoughts immediately turned to Dalton and what losing his sister would do to him. It would destroy him, and she would be responsible for bringing this tragedy to his doorstep. It was her fault.
Blakely screamed again, more out of frustration than anything else.
Because no one came in or out of the doors on this side of the parking lot. It was getting late in a town that rolled up its streets by eight o’clock every night.
“Shut your mouth,” Hoodie ordered.
The man was going to kill her.
Her first thought might have been about Dalton, but her second was for Bethany and Chase. How would her sister survive without Blakely’s help? What would happen to Chase? His family was already falling apart as it was. She couldn’t let him lose his aunt.
Renewed determination to live filled her.
“Who are you? And what do you want from me?”
“Honey, you’re my meal ticket. Nothing more,” he said in a chilling tone. Those words, spoken with such detachment, sent chills racing up her spine.
Two words stuck out.Meal. Ticket.Was it possible someone had hired this man to “handle” her? Could she get this bastard to talk? Maybe trip him up? She had a law degree for heaven’s sake. Maybe she could use it to her advantage.
“You want money?” she asked. “How much is my life worth to you?”
“I—uh,” the man stuttered. “Just shut your trap, honey.”
The wordhoneywas the equivalent of fingernails on a chalkboard to her.
“No. It’s only fair if you’re going to kill me for money to give me a chance to buy my way out of it. I have a lot of money. Are you sure the person who’s paying you does?”
“He does just fine.”
“How do you know?” If she could just plant a few seeds of doubt in this man’s mind, maybe she could talk her way out of this.
“Shut up!” His tone was final. She didn’t like the panic in his voice or the anger. Her tactic could backfire on her and cause him to put a knife in her back right now, leaving her for dead like Dalton’s sister.
Speaking of murder, why didn’t this bastard just shoot her from a distance and leave her for dead?
Did he want to take her to a different location so he could dump her body or scrub it?
Had Jules gotten in the way?
None of this was encouraging, but she needed to dissect the situation and search for an out. One thing was certain, this man meant business. He was very clear about that.
“You need to go to sleep,” he whispered before another blow practically knocked her teeth loose. The next strike was harder than the first and hit the same spot at the crown of her head. What had he used?
