Her Cowboy Doms(47)

She nodded, unwilling to call him sir again, then moved away. It took everything in her not to run, but she’d be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction. He’d rattled her, but he didn’t need to know it.

Once at the bar, she told Wilson what she needed, then peered into the mirror hanging behind the rear counter lined with bottles and glasses. She watched Jack, keeping her gaze down whenever he turned to glare at her.

“Okay, don’t tell me that nothing’s wrong now.”

Georgia gripped the end of the bar. “Not really, but maybe I do need a break. Would you mind taking over for me?”

Barb blinked, thrown by Georgia’s change of mind. “Sure, sweetie. Go on back to the house and take it easy.”

Georgia gave her a hug, then put down her pad. She headed toward the hallway, then on impulse, turned around. Jack’s hard scowl locked onto her.

Her stomach did a sickening flip-flop as she spun back around and rushed toward the back. She couldn’t say what made her think so, but Jack seemed familiar.



* * * *



Three days later, she stood in one of the best places on the ranch. The horse barn, even with its all-too-fragrant odors, had become her afternoon destination whenever she had spare time.

“Snickers, I swear I think you can tell what I’m thinking, can’t you?” Georgia reached through the slats of the stall and gave the horse another carrot. She’d gotten accustomed to giving the horses a treat. Of course, Snickers always got an extra treat.

She whispered conspiratorially. “That’s right. Don’t you go telling the other horses about this second carrot. I wouldn’t want them to know I play favorites.”

The hairs on the end of the horse’s mouth tickled her palm. She couldn’t help but giggle. One of the best things about Pleasure Ranch was Snickers. Riding had gone from a pastime to a passion.

“I promise. We’ll go riding tomorrow morning. Hopefully, along with Sidewinder and Trader.” Which meant, of course, that Paul and Destin would be the ones riding the other two horses.

Pulling out yet another carrot from her pocket, Georgia stretched her arm out and offered it to Snickers. “Here you go, pretty girl.”

The pain that blossomed in the back of her head spread like lightning to stab into her eyes. She pulled her arm back, dropping the carrot to the floor of the stall, then moaned as everything went black.





Chapter Eight




Georgia swam through the black water. Her breath hitched, but she kept going, knowing that if she didn’t reach the surface, she’d die.

“Hey, bitch. Time to come out of it. Come on. I didn’t hit you that hard.”

The cruel laughter was out of place in the water.

“Not as hard as I’m going to hit you the next time.”

Pain erupted in her breast, breaking the water apart into slashes of light. She didn’t want the light to hit her, but she had no choice. Again, the pain came, this time from her other breast.

She ducked her head as a new pain, different from the first two, struck her eyes. Blinking, she struggled against the light, her eyes adjusting to the brightness. The bark of the tree she leaned against poked sharply into her back.

“That’s it, you fucking cop cunt. Open your eyes. I can’t wait to see the look in them when I slit your throat.”

She opened her eyes to see the customer, Jack, from the club a few days earlier. She tried to croak out a question, but her mouth was too dry.

He lifted a canteen to her mouth and she drank, the water soothing her throat as it spilled over her chin. He took the canteen away.

“Don’t know why I’m wasting good water on you. You won’t live long enough to die from dehydration.” His black eyes held malice and anger.

“Jack?”

“Good. You remember my name. But you don’t know my last name, do you? It’s Warton. Jack Warton, or as I like to think of myself, Slasher Jack. It has a ring to it, right? Not as good as Jack the Ripper, but I’m not a copycat. You think of my name when you take your last breath.”

“What do you want? Why are you doing this to me?” And then his words came rushing back. He knew she was a cop. Had she arrested him? It wasn’t unheard of for a criminal to seek revenge from the police officer that had busted him.

“So you didn’t see me. Huh. I thought as much, but I couldn’t be sure, could I? But then when you didn’t let out a howl for help at that pervert club, I knew.” He squatted next to her. “I thought for sure you’d recognize me.”

He hadn’t tied her up, but why? He knew she was a cop and had learned hand-to-hand training, so why take the chance that she’d fight him? Or make a run for it?