Finding Forever (Smoky Mountain Lawmen Book 1) (9 page)

Ben
raced to the center of the arena, vaulting the fence in an easy leap.  He
skidded to a halt in front of the woman and landed on his knees praying she
wasn’t dead.  He placed two fingers against her neck and his own heart began
racing as he realized she still had a pulse.  He whipped out his phone and
dialed nine-one-one.  After identifying himself and requesting an ambulance and
police, he hung up and raced back to the door to the front offices.  Pulling it
open he bellowed for Gemma, then grabbed the first aid kit off the wall.  He
needed a space blanket.  Stacy’s skin had been like ice under his fingers and
she was gray.

Finding
what he wanted he ran back to the unconscious woman, reaching her just as Gemma
and Mona came through the door.

“Ben? 
What’s—oh my God!”  He could hear the women coming through the gate in the
fencing as he spread the space blanket over Stacy’s unconscious form.

“She’s
alive,” he said, turning to them.  “I called for paramedics and back up.  They
should be here soon.”

He
motioned to the barn doors on the side that led to the parking lot.  “Can one
of you open those?”

Mona
immediately fled to do as he asked. 

Gemma
knelt next to Stacy and tucked the space blanket more securely around her
friend.  That done, she sat back on her haunches and wrapped her arms around
herself. 

Ben
tipped her chin up so she’d look at him.  “You okay?”

She
shook her head.  “No.”

Ben
enfolded her in his arms, aching to take away Gemma’s pain.

“Agent
Davidson!”

Ben
turned at the sound of Mona calling frantically from twenty yards away.  She
was pointing to the dirt. 

“You
need to see this.”

Gemma
in tow, they quickly made their way to Mona’s side.  He heard Gemma gasp as she
read what was written in the dirt.  Ben felt his blood boil. 
Son of a
bitch!!
  This bastard was getting bold.  Ben stared down at the message
willing it to change or show him the identity of the sick bastard.  Instead, it
just stayed there, steady, taunting:

Next
time, Agent Davidson, I’ll get the right one and she won’t be as lucky.

Gemma
stared restlessly at the crime scene techs from her perch in the bleachers at
the far end of the arena.  They swarmed the enclosure looking for clues to help
identify the person who had kidnapped and then dumped Stacy so callously. 

She
shifted, impatient.  She needed to
do
something.  As soon as Stacy had
been carted off to the hospital, she had helped Mona, their other therapist,
Jennifer, and the office manager, Pam, call all the patients on the schedule
for today and tomorrow to inform them that the center was closed.  With the
four of them working, it had only take a few minutes to make all the necessary
calls.  Now, she just had to sit here and wait for Ben or Tristan to finish so
she could leave.  And sitting around twiddling her thumbs was not her forte.  Anyone
who knew her could attest to that.  Gemma hated to be idle.  But right now she
didn’t have a choice.

Gemma’s
eyes wandered over the men and women canvasing the arena until they landed on Ben. 
He stood next to her brother and another detective, their heads together as
they talked.  He had told her in no uncertain terms that she was to stay where
he could see her at all times until he could set up a protection detail full of
people he or her brother trusted implicitly. 

So
here she was.  Twiddling her thumbs.  She just wanted to go home and go back to
bed.  Gemma couldn’t help thinking that if she went to sleep, she’d wake up and
this would have all been a terrible nightmare.

Gemma
scoffed at herself. 
Yeah.  And the sun will rise in the west tomorrow.

Sighing,
Gemma leaned back against the uncomfortable bleacher seating and settled in to
wait.

Gemma’s
eyes snapped open at the sound of footsteps on the metal stairs.  She winced as
she sat up and turned toward the sound, stretching her neck to relieve the
kinks.  She had apparently dozed off while waiting.

Ben
climbed the bleachers, eyes locked on her.  She cast a quick glance behind him
at the rapidly emptying arena.  “Are you finished?” she asked.  She stood up as
he reached her.  “Have you heard anything about Stacy?  Is she going to be
okay?”

Ben
didn’t respond.  He just stood there and stared at her, his blue-green eyes
coated in a sheen of silver in the harsh lighting.  Just as she was about to
ask again he grabbed her and pulled her against him.  His mouth slammed down on
hers.  Gemma froze, stunned.  After about two seconds though, her hormones
kicked in and she was kissing him back. 

She
threaded her fingers into his hair and tugged at the short strands, trying to
hold him closer.  Ben’s hands roamed her back before he banded one arm tight
around her waist while the other snaked up her spine to her neck where he
cupped the back of her head holding her steady as he ravaged her mouth.  Fire
raged through Gemma’s body.  The need to feel his hands on her body hit hard. 
She wanted to feel his skin on hers.  She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth
and bit down making him groan.  His hand tightened in her hair and he returned
the favor.     

Just
when she thought she really would combust if he didn’t touch her elsewhere, he
gentled the kiss and pulled back.  Gemma was grateful for the steel band of his
arm around her.  Her legs had gone past the Jell-O stage to water.  She stared
up at him stunned by the fire that had erupted between them.   This kiss was
nothing like the one from the other night.  That one had been the release of
all the raw hunger that had been building between them since they met.  This
one was full of an intense heat brought on by the emotional roller coaster of
the last twenty-four hours.  Gemma had felt the hint of desperation and relief
when he had first kissed her.

He
rested his forehead on hers.  She watched the muscles of his jaw flex as he
fought to tamp down the riotous emotions she could see coursing through his
eyes. 

“That
was not my intention when I came up here,” He finally said, his voice gruff.

Gemma
smiled softly.  “I’m not complaining.”  God, but how she wasn’t complaining. 
He could do that anytime he wanted.

His
answering chuckle finally broke the tension between them and he straightened,
but didn’t release her.  “How are you holding up?”

Gemma
caressed his jaw with her thumb as she rested her hand against his neck. 
“Better now.  And not just because of the…that.”  She gestured between them.  “I
seem to always feel better when you’re near.”

She
felt his fingers bite into the flesh on her hips at her words.  His jaw flexed
beneath her touch and his eyes closed.  Gemma felt a moment of elation that he
seemed as affected by her as she was by him. 

He
swooped in and kissed her hard one more time before releasing her to grab her
hand.  “Come on,” he said, leading her down the bleachers.  “Tristan and I set
up a protection detail for you.  I’m going to take you home now.”

“You
never did answer my questions, you know,” Gemma said, following him down the
bleachers and through the arena to the parking lot.

He
glanced at her, frowning. 

“Stacy? 
How is she?”

The
frown disappeared and he nodded.  “I got off with the hospital a little while
ago.  She’s got a concussion and a broken arm from the accident.  A few other
assorted bumps and bruises, but otherwise she’s fine.”

Relief
flooded Gemma.  “Thank God.  Is the concussion why she was unconscious?”

Ben
shook his head.  They had reached his SUV and he opened the passenger door so Gemma
could climb inside.  “She’d been drugged.  Ketamine.”

Gemma
halted in the process of fastening her seatbelt.  “Ketamine?”  That was a
powerful tranquilizer.  Coupled with her head wound, Stacy was lucky to be
alive. 

Ben
nodded.  “This guy’s smart.  She won’t remember a thing about what happened, so
even if she did see his face she won’t be able to tell us a damn thing.”

Ben
wasted little time getting Gemma settled in at home.  After introducing her to
her guard, he all but ran from the house like the hounds of Hell were on his
heels.  That kiss and her confession had left his emotions raw.  He needed time
to think.  And distance.  When she was near he forgot his resolve not to get
involved with her and his oppositions to permanency. 

He
pulled into the police station lot and quickly headed inside, switching mental
gears.  His relationship with Gemma could wait.  He had a more pressing concern
and that was finding the person threatening her.

Once
again, he had to tamp down the blind rage that threatened to overwhelm him at
the idea that someone wanted to hurt sweet, beautiful Gemma.  If it weren’t for
the fact he knew she would refuse he would hide her away until he could catch
the bastard behind all this.  He might make her do it anyway.

Tristan
was waiting on him as soon as he stepped into the squad room.

“The
crime lab finished with Gemma’s car.  The brake lines were cut and they found
paint scuffs on the bumper.  The vehicle was too burned to be able to get a
chemical composition of the paint left behind by the other car.  They could
only tell that another vehicle had rammed the car,” Tristan relayed.

Shit. 
Ben scrubbed a hand down his face and rubbed his jaw.  “Can’t say I’m
surprised.  He must have cut the lines while the car was parked at the equestrian
center.  He likely mistook Stacy for Gemma when Stacy left in Gemma’s car. 
From a distance and with all the trees shading that parking lot it’d be easy to
mistake one woman for the other.  What about the center?  How did he get inside? 
Mrs. Roth said all looked well and that the alarm was on when she got there.”

“He
bypassed the alarm at the rear arena door.  Used some kind of gadget to fake
the system to thinking someone had entered the code.  Techs found scratch marks
inside the alarm box where he’d hooked up.  Otherwise, we might not have
figured out how he did it.”

Christ. 
A tech-savvy sociopath.  No wonder the guy had eluded law enforcement so long.

Tristan
stepped closer.  “Why is he targeting my sister?  That message in the dirt was
for you.  Personally.  Why is Gemma involved in a personal vendetta against
you?  Is there more to your relationship with her than what either of you have
let on?  I saw that kiss you laid on her earlier.”  Ben straightened at
Tristan’s tone.  He couldn’t blame the man for being angry and accusatory. 
Hell, he was angry at himself for getting Gemma involved.  If he were in
Tristan’s shoes he’d be feeling and acting the same way.

Ben
shook his head.  “I admit, there’s something about your sister that gets to me.
 She’s like no other woman I’ve ever met.  But, other than that kiss today,
we’ve done nothing to suggest to others that we’re anything but friends.”

Tristan’s
eyes narrowed.  “To others?  That mean you’ve done stuff that would suggest
otherwise when others weren’t present?”

Ben’s
face hardened.  “I told you once before that what happens between Gemma and me
is none of your damned business.  She is an adult capable of making her own
decisions.  Butt out, Mabley.”

“She’s
my sister, Davidson.  I’m not going to stand by and watch her get her heart
broken.  Or in this case, worse.”  Tristan refused to back down.  He still
stood toe to toe with Ben.

Ben
grit his teeth.  “You know I will do everything humanly possible to protect
Gemma.”

“Even
leave her be?”

Ben
sincerely wished it were that easy.  Or that he’d stayed far, far away from her
to begin with like he had kept telling himself he should from the moment he’d
awakened to her warm weight sprawled across his body.  “It’s a little late for
that.  No matter what our relationship is, this guy believes she means
something special to me.  I don’t think we can convince him otherwise.”

Ben
watched Tristan run a hand through his hair, anger and frustration
crisscrossing his face.   He stalked several paces away before turning around
to face Ben again.  “We have to get her out of here.  Hide her somewhere.”

Ben
scoffed.  “Have you met your sister?  She’ll agree to protection because she’s
not stupid, but there’s too much going on here—too many people who need her
help—for her to turn her back and hide.”

Tristan
paced away again. 

“She’s
got a round the clock guard in place.  We’ll both be in the house at night. 
She’s not going to be alone.  Ever,” Ben said.  “We’ve got new leads now.”  He
put a hand out and grasped Tristan’s shoulder as he walked past for the third
time.  “I know us.  I know how we operate.  You and I make a good team,
Mabley.  We’ll catch this bastard.  And we can take turns nailing his ass to
the wall when we do.  Okay?”

Tristan
nodded.  “You’re right.  There was no better unit in our battalion than ours. 
This sick bastard messed up when he decided to tangle with my sister.  I’d
still feel better though if she weren’t here.”