Sam and Garrett both put away the files they were studying and surveyed Ethan with open curiosity.
“Just wanted to tell you that I’m taking Rachel back to the house.”
Garrett frowned. “Does she want to go?”
Ethan sucked in a breath through his nose. He had no right to get angry when Garrett was just looking out for Rachel. Just like he always had, but Ethan had been too stupid and insecure to know it.
“Yeah. We need to talk. Things have changed. I f**ked up.” He looked directly at his brothers. “I can’t lose her.”
Sympathy simmered in Sam’s expression, and Garrett might have softened an iota. It was hard to tell around his scowl.
“Good luck, man,” Sam said.
Ethan backed out of the basement and hurried up to where Rachel waited. He held out his hand to her and waited for her to take it.
Tentatively she slid her fingers over his palm. For a moment he savored that small amount of trust, and he silently swore never to abuse that trust again.
It was still pitch-black outside, and he checked his watch. Two in the morning. Hell, they should both still be in bed, him wrapped as tight around her as he could go.
He ushered her into the truck and then got in. Quiet descended as he drove away from Sam’s house, and he was loath to disrupt the silence. He much preferred any conversation to take place at home when he could hold her in his arms.
The winding road that paralleled the lake was dark as hell at night. He slowed when he saw a car stopped at the intersection ahead. As they started to drive past, Ethan reached over and slid his fingers through Rachel’s.
Headlights seared through his periphery. What the hell? Jerk was bright-lighting them. Then he saw the lights coming directly at them.
Ethan slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel in an effort to avoid the SUV, but it slammed into the driver’s side and shoved Garrett’s truck all the way across the road into the ditch.
Pain exploded in his head, and he vaguely registered the smell of blood before all went black.
CHAPTER 36
THE impact nearly jarred Rachel’s teeth loose. She slammed against her door and cried out as pain lanced up her arm. The truck rocked to a halt, and she sat trying to make sense of it all.
Ethan.
She turned in the seat and cried out again when her arm screamed in protest.
“Ethan,” she said hoarsely. “Ethan!”
He didn’t move. He was slumped against the steering wheel, shoved over by the side impact air bag. Blood ran down his forehead, and she stared in horror when he didn’t stir.
“Ethan, wake up. Oh my God, Ethan.”
The sound of creaking metal jerked her around in her seat just as her door was peeled open.
“Oh thank God! My husband is hurt. We need an ambulance.”
The man leaned in, grabbed her by the hair and hauled her out of the truck.
She screamed when he slammed her against his body, trapping her injured arm between them.
“What are you doing?” she yelled as he pulled her toward the road.
“You’re a hard bitch to kill,” he bit out.
Her brain short-circuited. It was too much shock for her to process. She looked frantically back at the smashed truck where Ethan was unconscious.
“Let me go!”
She kicked back and struggled, ignoring the searing pain that sliced through her body.
He reared back and slapped her hard across the face, knocking her to the ground. Then he yanked her up by her good arm and dragged her to a waiting vehicle.
Her face throbbed, and she struggled to comprehend what had happened, and why. He’d said she was hard to kill.
The bridge accident hadn’t been an accident. She knew it hadn’t been. But why? Why would someone want her dead?
The man threw her into the backseat, where another man sat waiting, and then he climbed into the driver’s seat and roared down the highway.
“Who are you?” she demanded as she tried to shake the grip of the second man. “What do you want?”
The driver ignored her and picked up his cell phone. He punched a few buttons and then barked into the receiver.
“I’ve got her. Yeah, no mistakes this time. I’ll make sure she never talks. No, I can’t make it look like an accident this time. I tried that already. Bitch wouldn’t die. I’ll kill her and dispose of the body. No one will ever find her. It’ll just be one of those unsolved crimes. Castle will be happy, and Tony and I will disappear to Mexico.”
Castle. Castle. She knew that name. She cursed her shattered mind. Where did she know that name from?
Her arm screamed in pain and her head was about to explode. She raised her good hand to her temple and massaged, willing herself to remember. Beside her, goon number two kept close watch on her and finally grasped her wrist and wrenched her arm down to the seat.
“Let me go,” she begged softly. “I won’t say anything, I swear it. My husband’s family can pay you. They can even fly you to Mexico. Just please let me go. This will kill them. They thought I was dead.”
She knew she was babbling, but she was desperate. And scared out of her mind.
The driver laughed. “Yeah, you have a way of staying alive. I’m convinced you’re a cat with nine lives. You should have died a year ago. You should have died on the bridge. I’d hoped to make it look like an accident, but a bullet is more expedient.”
She was going to vomit. Between the pain and the panic, she was barely able to think.
“Why?” she croaked. “I’ve never done anything to anyone.”