Bound to Them (20 page)

“Everything okay in here?” Nash asked from the doorway.
“Hey, Pete, glad you’re back. How’s Ella?”

“Much better, thanks. Think I’ll get to work now though.
Crista, anything I can do to help just let me know.”

Crista smiled at him. “Thanks, Pete.”

She slumped back into her chair and looked over at Nash and
Quinn tiredly.

“You look exhausted, sweetheart,” Quinn said quietly. “Why
don’t you let one of us take you home and pamper you?”

“Because I don’t have time. The project manager’s coming
this afternoon. I have to bring Pete up to speed. I just have a lot going on.”

Both men stared at her in concern and she prayed they
wouldn’t push the matter. If they kept pushing, she was very afraid she just
might break.

Nash followed Quinn out of the trailer, still frowning with
worry. As each day passed and they didn’t hear from Doug or come closer to
catching O’Ryan, Crista grew more distant and stressed.

He was seriously worried about her health.

“We should make her go home,” he said to Quinn.

“She needs some space, Nash.”

“She needs to take better care of herself.”

Quinn shook his head and sighed. “We can’t push her right
now or she’s going to shatter.”

“Well, maybe that would be a good thing. She needs to let
everything out.”

“Does she? Right here? You know how she hates to bring
attention to herself. Do you really think she’ll thank you for making her lose
control for everyone to see?”

Nash let out a deep breath. Quinn was right. “You’re right.
I’ll give her some space. For now.”

But tonight was another story.

Crista sat with a sigh as Quinn and Nash left. She glanced
over at her phone as it beeped. Panic immediately ballooned in her stomach as
she read the text. She swallowed hastily, forcing the nausea back. Then reread
the message as her hand trembled.

I hve Doug. Do wht I tell u and I wn’t hrt him. Tell no
1. Drew.

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

Crista took a deep breath to quell her fear. She had to
think. She didn’t have time to lose her mind.

What the hell should she do?

She had no idea how Andrew had found Doug or whether he was
telling the truth. But Andrew didn’t have her phone number—she’d changed phones
and given the new number only to a few trusted people. One of whom was Doug.

She knew that Quinn and Nash would expect her to tell them
so they could take care of everything. But they didn’t like Doug. Would they do
everything they could to rescue him or would they be prepared to sacrifice him
for her safety?

Crista forced herself to calm down.

They wouldn’t risk her but they would do their best to help
Doug. She knew them. They were honorable men. It didn’t matter how they felt
about Doug—they would help him because she loved him.

She chewed at her lower lip as she paced.

But if she told them she’d be endangering them. They’d
insist on being involved. The idea of them being hurt terrified her.

What if he was watching her? If she called out to Nash and
Quinn now and Andrew was watching she could be risking Doug’s life.

No, best to keep this to herself. For the moment.

She rubbed her stomach, trying to still the nerves
butterflying there. Her phone beeped again and she jumped, reaching for it
frantically.

Contact u l8tr. B ready. Tell no 1.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

What was she going to do?

Quinn glanced over at Crista as she pushed spaghetti around
on her plate. He wondered how long she would pretend that everything was all
right. He’d thought to wait her out, give her a chance to confide in them, but
he couldn’t stand to see her so upset.

She’d been silent since they’d left work. The project
manager had turned up midafternoon in a huff. But Quinn had to hand it to
Pete—he knew his stuff when it came to the job. The project manager had left
decidedly happier, but the worry and angst surrounding Crista hadn’t dissipated
an iota.

He knew she was worried about Doug, but she’d seemed better
after Reggie’s call. Of course she could just be tired, and everything combined
was probably getting on top of her.

And yet he couldn’t help but think there was something more.

When they’d arrived back at the motel, she’d stripped
without a word and knelt in position. But her movements had lacked any
vitality, any life, as though she were just going through the motions.

He didn’t like it one bit.

“Crista.” Quinn waited patiently for her to look at him.
“You want to tell us what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her gaze skittering away.

Oh yeah, there was definitely something wrong.

He stood and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

She clasped his hand. Quinn led her over to the sofa and
sat, pulling her onto his lap. She sat stiffly, not melting against him as she
normally would. He ran a hand up her back, trying to get her to relax as Nash
sat on the sofa beside them.

Nash clasped her knee. “We know there’s something wrong,
Crista. You’ve been acting weird all afternoon. Want to tell us what’s going
on?”

“I’ve been thinking about us. It’s just— It’s too weird. Two
men and a woman. It was fun for a while, but I’m kind of over it now. I mean,
look at me— I’m sitting around naked while you two are dressed like it’s
normal. It’s not. It’s weird. It’s abnormal. I want to leave.”

Crista climbed from his lap and he let her, the shock of her
words hitting him hard.

Abnormal. Weird.

Nash grabbed her and slapped her butt. It shocked Quinn out
of his thoughts, even as Crista gasped and reached back.

“What was that for?” she yelped.

“Lying,” Nash said calmly. “And there’s going to be a lot
more where that came from once you tell us why you just lied.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“Yes, you did. You’ve never once thought this relationship
weird. And you were made for submission. You crave it. But you lied. And you
sent Quinn right back into that bad place where Caroline put him.”

Crista turned to stare at him, her blue eyes filled with
pain and tears. Her shaking hand covered her mouth as tears dripped down her
cheeks.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean it at
all.” She sobbed. “I just… I had to say something…”

Quinn pulled her down, rocking her as she sobbed
uncontrollably.

“Okay, baby, it’s okay, I know you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she cried, tearing at his heart. He
held her tighter, his concerned gaze hitting Nash’s.

“Baby, you have to calm down, you’re going to make yourself
sick.”

Nash leaned over and pushed her hair off her face. “Come on,
darlin’, take a deep breath. That’s it, and again.”

Quinn kissed the top of her head as her breathing slowed,
her tears easing.

“I’m sorry I lied. And I’m sorry I just broke down all over
you. Jeez, how embarrassing,” she muttered, wiping at her cheeks. Nash stood and
walked to the bathroom, returning quickly with some tissues.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Quinn soothed. “You’ve been
bottling everything up inside, it was bound to explode out.”

Nash ran his hand over her cheek. “You want to tell us what
started this?”

“Okay,” she said tiredly. “But you’re not going to like it.”

“Figured that much already,” Quinn replied.

Her phone beeped and Crista jumped to her feet, her face
paling as she swayed.

“Crista?” Nash asked.

“What the hell?” Quinn muttered as he steadied her. “Just
what is going on?”

* * * * *

Nash paced and reread the text for the fifth time, holding
Crista’s phone tightly in his hand.

Cnr of freemnt tenor. 30m. Cme alne.

Fear-fed fury surged through him, making him shake. He was
going to kill the bastard.

“Is he okay? Why has he gone all silent? There’s a weird
look on his face,” Crista said to Quinn in a lowered voice.

“I’m pretty sure that’s his ‘I’m going to kill someone’
face,” Quinn replied, his voice tight with anger.

“Oh,” she replied quietly. “Nash, I’m really sorry I didn’t
tell you about the texts.”

“He’s not planning on killing you, sweetheart,” Quinn said
wryly. “Wait a minute, what do you mean, texts?”

Nash paused, staring at Crista through the rage clouding his
vision. She squirmed guiltily.

“I was going to tell you.” Her face was white, her eyes too
big, her breathing coming too fast. He needed to calm her down, just as soon as
he got himself under control.

“Baby,” Quinn crooned. “I want you to take some deep, slow
breaths. Okay? We need to decide really quickly what we’re going to do, and I
can’t do that with you both freaking out on me. You two are the brains of this
outfit, remember?”

Nash would be amused if he weren’t so enraged. He scrolled
up the screen so he could read the previous messages and had to stop himself
from throwing the phone against the wall.

“Nash, let me see.”

He handed the phone over to Quinn reluctantly, his mind
racing. He needed his gun.

“Nash, what are you thinking?” Crista asked.

“That I’m going to kill the motherfucking bastard,” he
growled. Crista jumped—whether it was his voice, which had grown hard and
cold—or his language he didn’t know.

“Good,” Quinn said with satisfaction. “What’s the plan?”

Nash moved to get his guns, checking the ammo.

“I’m going to go wait for the bastard then I’m going to
shoot him.”

“Simple but effective,” Quinn said.

“You can’t!” Crista looked at them both in horror.

Nash stared back at her impassively. “I assure you, I can.
I’ve killed before. And when I get home we’re going to have a chat about
communication and telling us when you get fucking threatening texts.”

“I meant that you can’t kill him because then we won’t know
where Doug is. What if he’s watching? That’s why I didn’t tell you both
straight away. I’m scared he’s spying on me. And, well, that you would
sacrifice Doug for me.”

“We’ll find Doug,” Nash promised her. “After I kill O’Ryan.”

“No,” Crista yelled, standing with her hands in fists. “You
can’t risk my brother. Just listen to me. I’ll go. I’ll keep my phone on me and
you can track my GPS.”

Nash shook his head. “Unacceptable. You will not be placed
in danger.”

“Besides, he’ll ask for your phone, sweetheart,” Quinn
added.

“Then I’ll take yours as well,” she said to Quinn urgently.
“Please. It’s not as though you ever use it.” Quinn had an aversion to phones.

Quinn shook his head.

“Please, he’s my brother,” she sobbed.

Nash reached over and pulled her close, clawing his fury
back bit by bit.

“We cannot have you in danger,” he whispered.

“You’ll be following me. I’m sure he won’t hurt me. Please.”

Agony speared him deep and he thought frantically, pushing
his feelings aside so he could think about this rationally. And he realized she
was speaking some sense.

Damn.

He still didn’t like it though.

“You’ll do exactly what we tell you,” Nash growled, ignoring
Quinn’s shocked look. “I mean it.”

She nodded frantically. “I will. I promise.”

Nash glared down at her. “You disobey me, even once, and I
will tie you up and leave you in our bedroom until you’re old and gray, got
me?”

She nodded and he let out a long sigh. He couldn’t believe
he was doing this. “Okay. Go and get dressed. I’m going to go now and get in
place. Quinn will follow you by tracking his phone.”

She drew back, wiping her cheeks. “What if he’s watching?
Won’t he see you leave?”

Nash smiled. “Darlin’, he’s no match for me.”

* * * * *

Terrified, Crista bit her lip to hold in her whimpers of
fear.

A simple country girl from a simple country town, she was
not made for this sort of adventure. The most exciting thing that happened in Sacrifice
was Mr. McCarthy’s mutt getting in with Mr. Johnson’s prize pedigree breeder.

They’d made the cutest puppies.

She should’ve gotten one. A dog could have accompanied her
as she drove down the dark streets in her tin can car. Maybe the guys were right.
This car was a deathtrap, and she couldn’t help comparing it to Quinn’s smooth
ride. She pulled up and climbed out, locking the doors.

She had to fight the temptation to look around for Nash,
knowing he’d hidden himself close by. Quinn would be following her in the
replacement car the rental company had delivered to him that morning.

With legs trembling so hard they could barely carry her,
Crista walked toward the corner. It was really dark. This was an industrial
area and at least half the street lights were broken.

She stuffed her hands in her pockets and shuffled her feet.
Nerves had her jumping at every sound. Where the hell was he? Was she at the
right place?

“They need to put street signs up,” she muttered to herself.
“What kind of place doesn’t have street signs?”

Desperately she wished Quinn or Nash were here. What if Nash
wasn’t watching her? What if he’d fallen and hurt himself in the dark?

Taking a deep breath, she searched for some calm. Nash and
Quinn had been supremely confident in their own abilities—she could be no less.

Grasping hold of her phone, she pulled it from her pocket.
Maybe Andrew had left a message and she hadn’t heard it. Her car was kind of
noisy. No message.

And he was ten minutes late.

As Crista was about ready to bolt, her stomach rolling so
bad she thought she would vomit, a dark truck pulled up beside her. The window
rolled down and Andrew’s cold face came into view.

“Get in,” he snarled.

Crista jumped, then, reminding herself that she had no
choice, she moved to the passenger side and climbed in.

Nash watched Crista enter the truck. It took every ounce of
control he had not to race over and snatch her from that bastard’s grasp, not
to press on the trigger beneath his finger and fire.

As the truck pulled away, he slipped the safety on, slung
the rifle over his back and ran toward Quinn. He tamped down any panic or
anger, letting cold certainty take him over as he jumped into Quinn’s rental,
leaving his bike behind. It would probably be gone or trashed by the time he
came back.

The bike didn’t matter.

All that mattered was Crista. And getting to her quickly.

Nash opened his phone. Quinn started the truck as Nash
brought up the tracker for Quinn’s phone, which they’d safely tucked into
Crista’s bra.

“Turn onto Shepherd’s Road, he’s heading northeast.”

“Has she still got her phone?” Quinn asked.

Nash brought up the GPS signal from Crista’s phone. “At the
moment. None too bright, is he? I’d have made her throw her phone away first
thing. Turn onto Massey Avenue then Old North Road. He’s heading toward the
Dixie National Forest. Shit, I hope we don’t lose the signal.”

“I’ll get closer. Thank God he’s not like you. You’d have
made her strip immediately and she’d have lost both her phones.”

Nash grunted. “Like you wouldn’t have.”

“Hell, no, I wouldn’t. Too much distraction. I’d never be
able to drive with her gorgeous body on display. Fuck, I don’t like this,
letting her put herself in danger. I don’t like this at all.”

Nash glanced over at him. “You seemed surprisingly okay with
her doing this. I was shocked after all the fuss you put up when Kayla was in
trouble.”

Quinn’s hands clenched then relaxed. His knuckles were
white, tense. “One of us had to be reasonable. Frankly, I’d have preferred the
role of crazy, overprotective boyfriend, but you’d already taken it. You were
about to lose it. If we’d both gone nuts we risked her running off and doing
her own thing. But don’t mistake me. I wanted to lock her in our bedroom, chain
her to the bed and fuck her until she forgot her own name, let alone everyone
else’s.”

Nash let out a deep breath. “Sorry, man. I just couldn’t
stand the idea of her in danger. I still can’t. When it comes to the people I
love being in danger, I turn a bit irrational.”

“Yeah, well, just so you remember. Next time, it’s my turn
to be the crazy one. You have to be sensible.”

“Deal.”

* * * * *

Andrew pushed her into a dark cabin, shoving her so hard she
stumbled.

“Clumsy bitch,” he muttered, shutting and locking the door.
He’d made her throw away her phone a few miles back, but she could still feel
Quinn’s phone digging into her breast. Maybe she should try to hide it
somewhere. Just in case he stripped her.

Who was she kidding? He would strip her. She could see it in
his eyes.

Lord, she hoped Nash and Quinn were following her.

Otherwise she was in a world of trouble.

Crista looked around the tiny cabin, surprised by how run-down
and dirty it was. Andrew had always been so meticulous about everything. His
home, his appearance, her place. He’d taken great enjoyment in pointing out
anything he thought was wrong with her place—the bed wasn’t made correctly,
there was dust on the windowsill, she’d folded her towels wrong. What had she
ever seen in him?

“I’ve had to live here because of you, Crista. This is the
only place I could find at short notice where there were no close neighbors.”