“Now, we’re gonna go for a little ride.” Yanking her by the hair, he hauled her out the door
* * * *
Seth Carter walked out of his garage, wiping his hands on a rag after finishing up work on his 2010 Harley Softail Custom. He and a friend were taking a ride the following afternoon. He looked up at the ominous sky and hoped that the thunderstorm forecasted for tonight didn’t ruin their plans.
A female voice drew his attention. Something about the voice was familiar. He looked around and pinpointed where it had come from, a few empty lots down from the house he’d just bought. He heard her voice again and knew something was wrong. The woman sounded scared. Stepping up on his porch he looked more closely and recognized her.
He made long strides, covering the distance to the house they had come from. The man had Lily Valentine by the hair, evidently not realizing he was being observed. Seth recalled Lily’s explanation the day he’d met her. Tears had filled her eyes and made his heart ache as she’d fought an inner battle before admitting her tattoo was a slave tattoo. Whether it was officially a slave tattoo or not was irrelevant when the fact was that she’d received it without her blessing and hated the horrible mark.
He was willing to bet the son of a bitch dragging her across the porch by a fistful of her hair was her ex-husband. The bastard had a lot of nerve doing that in broad daylight and must have thought that nobody was home next door because he’d been in the garage with his motorcycle the whole time.
Lily spoke, and while he couldn’t understand her words, he could hear the pleading and fear in her tone as the asshole pushed her roughly into the white truck.
He came within a few yards of the truck and called out, “Hey! Everything okay here? I heard yelling. What are you doing with her?” Lily looked out the passenger window at him, and her eyes grew big, round, and even more scared, and she shook her head at Seth as the man scowled over the roof of the truck at him. She put her finger to her lips. “What’s going on?” He didn’t let on that he knew Lily.
“Nothing, mister, just a lover’s quarrel between me and my wife,” the tall, powerful-looking bastard grated out in a nasty, asking-for-trouble voice.
Lily rolled down her window. “It’s nothing, mister. We were just arguing.” Her eyes were enormous and she looked beyond terrified, and Seth was surprised she was able to communicate as calmly as she did. She mouthed, “Call Del,” then out loud, she said, “We’re just on our way home. Nothing for you to worry about, really.”
“What are you doing at this house?” Seth asked Lily, trying to press home the point that he didn’t know her.
“Just looking in the windows, mister. Wondered if it was for sale and we got in a fight about paint colors.” Lily looked behind her and whispered to the man in desperate tones as he reached behind the seat for something. When she turned back to Seth, she said, “We’re sorry.”
She rolled the window back up, but he could hear the pleading in her tone even though it was muffled by the glass as she spoke quickly. The bastard stood back up and looked satisfied, like he enjoyed terrifying her. Seth had a feeling there was probably a loaded weapon in the man’s hands which was hidden from view. She reached out and pleaded again.
The evil-looking bastard grinned. “No harm, no foul. Have a good evenin’.”
Seth nodded and backed away like he was satisfied. The cold wind sent a gust of leaves around him, and he brushed his long hair from his face as he watched the truck back from the driveway, leaving her Mazda behind.
One thing was certain. The man with Lily was probably her ex-husband and she’d just sacrificed herself to keep him from getting hurt. As the truck drove off and turned the corner, he watched the man grab Lily by the hair again and bash her head once against the window frame of the truck door, and then she disappeared from sight. Seth sprinted to the house as fast as his legs could carry him while pulling up Del’s phone number.
* * * *
Clay groaned inwardly as Tabitha climbed into the front passenger seat of his F-150. Being in an enclosed space with her cat-hair-infested cardigan was just what he needed right now. Luckily he’d remembered the inhaler and had used the nose spray before they left the shop, hoping that might hold a full-blown allergy attack at bay long enough to get her home.
Moments after he’d let her out the back door she’d knocked again and told him her car wouldn’t start. With the unexpected thunderstorm on its way, it wasn’t safe for her to walk home and it wouldn’t have been very gentlemanly of him to allow her to do that anyway. So he’d agreed to drop her off at home.