Sue Ellen. The woman had been choked, and her son had displayed a fist-sized bruise on his baby cheek. “Billy will come after me,” she’d said.
“I’m so sorry.” Meeting Billy’s raging eyes, Anne spread her hands out helplessly. “I don’t know who that is. As a bounty hunter, I meet a lot of people every day.”
“Bitch, you took her to some fucked-up place for women. You’re trying to hide her—hide her from me, her legal husband,” he said.
A man who also rivaled Ben for height and muscles moved forward. His mask had smashed his broad features, but Anne recognized the build of the ogre-like brother-in-law who’d seen her with Sue Ellen.
His gaze took her in. “That’s her, brother.”
Billy took a step forward. “You fucking—”
“Don’t got time to fuck around.” The brother grabbed Uzuri’s hair and slapped her so violently her head jerked back.
Tears filled her eyes as she struggled in his grip.
He grinned at Anne, feeding off Uzuri’s whimpers. “Tell us the address or we fuck up your girlies.” He held up his hand again, and Uzuri cringed.
“Stop.” Shoving down fury, Anne made her voice waver. It wasn’t difficult with the waves of fear chilling her blood. “I’ll tell. P-please, don’t hurt us.”
“Sounds more like it.” Another of the men approached Anne. Faded shirt. Dark tan. The sickening sweet smell of chewing tobacco couldn’t overwhelm the stench of his sweat. “Gimme the fuckin’ address.”
Ogre shoved Uzuri away. She landed on her hands and knees, crying and shaking.
Anne’s jaw clenched. These good ol’ boys who thought spousal abuse was their God-given right still might not be stupid enough to take her word for the address.
She didn’t have much choice though. Hoping against hope, she rattled off a made-up number on a large St. Pete street.
Now leave us here and go check it out.
* * * *
Goddamned rain. Goddamned flooding. Ben finally reached Clearwater Island, navigated through streets tangled with branches and debris, swerved around the inevitable fender-benders, and slowly trailed another car into Anne’s cul-de-sac. To his surprise, two beat-up pickups were parked on the street on each side of her driveway.
Was she having a party?
Annoyingly enough, the car in front of him turned into her drive. Fuck. The detour he’d been forced to take getting out of St. Pete had given Travis and Anne’s father time to arrive.
Hell with it, he was still going to see her.
Recognizing the location, Bronx whined. He wanted his Anne.
So do I. He ruffled Bronx’s fur. “You have to wait, buddy. Anne and I have things to settle before you jump in.”
He closed the door and flinched at the streak of lightning followed by the crack of thunder. After a slow breath, he crossed to Travis. “I got held up.”
“I figured. The roads are a mess.” Travis nodded toward his father, who walked around the car. “Dad, this is Ben Haugen. Ben, my father, Stephan Desmarais.”
Desmarais was about six feet, dark haired, with the lean build of his sons and a military bearing. “Good to meet you.” He shook Ben’s hand before his mouth firmed in a determined line. “I realize you’re probably here to see my daughter. I want to talk to her first.”
Ben set his feet. “We all have reasons to see her. I figure the choice of who she speaks with first is hers. Not mine. Not yours. I’ll accompany you to the door.”
Travis coughed, as if covering a laugh.
Anne’s father wasn’t laughing, and his glare was worthy of note. Not that Ben would change his mind, but it was a pretty good glare.
Anne’s was better.
* * * *
Terror and rage mixed in an unholy brew as Anne watched the men spread out in the room, far too close to her friends.
Her very vulnerable friends. Jessica had a new baby. Kim and Uzuri had already suffered at the hands of abusive men.
Starting the fight now wouldn’t help anything. Wait…
The guy with a bushy brown beard pulled out a phone and tapped in the address Anne had provided.
Anne’s heart sank. Didn’t it just figure one of them would know how to check a map app? As his comrades waited for the bearded one’s results, she moved closer to her friends.
Wait…
Beard shook his head and snapped out, “No such address. She lied.”
“You fuckin’ cunt.” Billy started toward Anne.
“Brother. No. That one’s got to be able to talk.” Ogre glanced at the red-shirted man and pointed to Jessica. “Cut that bitch.”
“No,” Anne cried. “Wait—”