Reclaiming Peace: A Peace Series Novella Read online

  “I’m glad you came back, but could you do me a favor?” Dray requested with a pensive smile as he tilted her head up and brushed the moisture from her face.

  “What?” she rasped.

  “Please don’t leave again without saying goodbye.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dexie smiled weakly then turned back to the dishes. She and Dray finished cleaning up then retired to the seating area in front of the fireplace where Dexie got all the latest news and gossip about Peace. By the time Dray left the cabin, the moon was high in the night sky and Dexie felt warmer than she had in ten years. Everything felt like nothing more than a tentative and uneasy truce, but it was more than she’d dared to hope for. Dray had insisted that they exchange phone numbers, which Dexie suspected was manifested by his fear that she’d disappear again. But as she slid between the crisp white sheets of the Murphy bed, she knew a cautious sense of hope.

  Dexie folded up the Murphy bed and locked it into place before pushing her overnight bag up against it. The nightmares that had plagued her throughout the night had left her feeling sluggish and off-balance. In an effort to rouse her mind from its lethargy, she’d taken a brisk walk through the wooded growth that surrounded the cabin, breathing deeply of the freshness of late spring. Afterward, she’d tidied the cabin, finishing with the bed. All the while, Dexie had wrestled with her urge to get the hell out of Peace and retreat to the safety of her anonymous life in Billings. But the entire reason for her to return to Peace had been to attempt some sort of reclamation of her life… to leave her fear and her anonymity behind. Restless and uneasy, Dexie sat on the loveseat and tried to find the balance she craved.

  The sound of tires crunching to a stop in the gravel outside brought her head around to stare at the door. Dray hadn’t mentioned that he might be by this morning and he was… or used to be… good about letting people know of plans like that. She didn’t think anyone else knew where she was staying. At the sound of a car door slamming shut, Dexie stood and moved across the room to peek out the window. A sharp thrill of terror slammed into her at the sight of Brent Harrington nearing the front door, an arrogant expression on his detested face. How was he back in Peace? He was supposed to be in Billings.

  Dexie spun around the room in a panic. She knew she couldn’t reach the door and relock it before he got to it. Seeking help, she scanned the space for her cell phone. It took her a long moment to remember it was in her back pocket. Yanking the device out, Dexie poked and fiddled with it until she had it the way she wanted it. Carefully, she placed the phone on the nightstand as loud knocking bounced through the cabin. Taking a mental inventory, Dexie worked strenuously to calm herself, to think logically, and to remind herself that she’d put her precautions in place. Brent knocked a second time and she moved toward the door as quietly as possible, the vague hope of locking it flaring in her mind even as she knew she’d never be able to.

  “Open up, Dexie, I know you’re in there,” Brent called out.

  Dexie froze, her eyes locked on the doorknob as it slowly turned. With a thrill of horror, she watched as he opened the door and locked his malicious eyes on her. Dexie wondered hysterically if time had stopped. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, and she couldn’t focus the thoughts tumbling around in her mind… all she could do was stare at Brent. The look that had haunted her nightmares for ten years was blazing in Brent’s eyes as he stepped into the cabin and slowly eased the door shut. The click of the door closing jumpstarted time, making Dexie’s heart surge with terror. As Brent advanced on her, she backed away. She knew his agenda and she knew she couldn’t best him physically.

  “What are you doing here, Brent?” she asked, horrified to hear the tremors in her voice. “How did you get back from Billings so quick?”

  “I never went,” he sneered.

  “But I thought…?”

  “I’m well connected, Dexie. One phone call to my lawyer and the deputy was turning around, taking me back to my car.”

  “So you just yanked the strings on the right stooge,” Dexie scowled in disgust.

  “I seem to recall promising to finish what we started and give you a little payback for your insolence yesterday,” Brent noted, his malicious eyes cold and remorseless. With a quick lunge, he tried to grab her.

  “And I seem to recall telling you we have nothing to finish,” Dexie retorted as she spun out of his reach, her heart tripping in her terror.

  “Oh, we have plenty to finish. You know what I want.”

  Once again, Brent leapt at her and she narrowly dodged his grip.

  “And you know I’ll never give it willingly.”

  “Good. I want to hear you scream for mercy. I want you to beg me.”

  Dexie tried to escape his clutching hands a third time, but found herself backed up against the Murphy bed. As Brent’s fist closed around her hair, he pressed his body into hers, pinning her.

  “I will never give you what you want,” Dexie gasped as he pulled her head back and leaned in to glare into her eyes. “Do what you will but I’ll never willingly give you my stake in Peace or my body. Even if you kill me, you’ll still never have what you want.”

  “Oh yes I will. If I kill you, then, as the sole remaining heir of the founding fathers, I’d get everything. I saw the wills.” Brent countered smugly. Dexie pushed against him ineffectively as she struggled to control the shudder of revulsion that overtook her. He leaned closer, his face mere inches from hers as his free hand roamed over her breast familiarly.

  “You’ve never seen my will,” she hissed defiantly.

  Brent paused for a brief moment before he continued to press into her. Dexie was as thrilled to see that his arrogant confidence had slipped slightly as she was horrified at his proximity. The smell of Old Spice was overwhelming and the feel of his detested hands on her body made her skin crawl. As his hand in her hair tightened further, holding her head up and captive, his other hand left her breast to wrap around her neck.

  “I don’t need to. When all is said and done, you’ll do as you’re told and I will own Peace.” Brent murmured confidently.

  “Never,” Dexie choked out around the hand on her throat. Brent moved in as though to kiss her. As soon as his lips touched hers, she shoved away her urge to throw up all over him and snarled, baring her teeth and clamping down on his lip.

  Brent howled as he pushed away from her, releasing her as he lifted his hand to his bleeding lip. Dexie coughed and took great gasping breaths as she started moving away from him again.

  “You bitch!” Brent bellowed.

  Before she had a chance to duck, she was reeling sideways from the force of the back of his hand connecting with her cheek. As Dexie was beginning to recover her balance, her ears still ringing while pain made her dizzy, Brent caught her other cheek with a second violent punch that made stars twinkle in her vision and brought her to her knees. Dazed and disoriented, Dexie didn’t have a moment to recover before she felt Brent’s foot connect with her ribs. Unable to stop herself, she cried out in pain and toppled to her side.

  “Yeah, you’ll scream,” Brent vowed, his voice hard, cold, and furious.

  Still blinking to clear her vision and gasping painfully for air, Dexie tried to roll away from him but found herself trapped against the wall. Panic and terror warred with her need to fight… to survive. Agony stole her breath as Brent pressed his foot to her chest.

  “Scream for me, Dexie. Cry. Plead for your life.” Brent cajoled menacingly. Unable to breathe around her pain and terror, Dexie’s mind revolted against the idea of giving him anything he wanted. She raised her right hand and lifted her middle finger rebelliously only to have his hand wrap around hers in a crushing grip. A small, breathless cry of pain was wrenched from her involuntarily. The weight on her chest lifted when Brent took his foot from her and knelt on the floor, bending close to look into her eyes.

  “You still need to learn some manners,” he growled
.

  Dexie lifted her head with as much strength as she could muster and crashed her forehead into Brent’s nose, snapping his head back. She gagged as blood flowed from his face onto hers while she continued to fight against him. Hatred darkened Brent’s eyes and twisted his face as he brought it back to face her, this time studiously keeping himself out of her range. He turned his head and spat blood out onto the floor near her head. Shifting his hands, Dexie found herself once again with his meaty paw against her throat while the other hand began to fumble with the button of her jeans.

  Tugging with everything she had, Dexie fought his grip on her neck while trying to twist her body away from him. With a furious rumble, Brent shifted and brought his knee down on her shin, making it impossible for her to move without dislocating her hip or knee.

  “No!” she gasped against his chokehold as he managed to open her jeans.

  “Stop fighting the inevitable, Dexie. You will be mine and so will Peace. We’ll make it ours.” Brent sneered victoriously.

  “No!” she repeated as loudly as she could, trying to give her voice more strength. Dexie was unable to move her head and powerless to stop him as she felt her jeans being shoved roughly down her legs. “No!”

  Tears pooled in her eyes as she continued to fight his hands on her, the futility of her struggle an agony of its own. At the sound of her underwear tearing and the sensation of them cutting into her backside, Dexie lost her battle to control her terror and tears.

  “No!” she sobbed and the pressure of Brent’s hand on her neck increased slightly with his movements.

  The rasp of his zipper as he shifted made her redouble her efforts to break free of him even as her tears flowed hotter and faster in her frustration and panic. When Brent moved over her, Dexie tried in vain to kick him. It felt like her neck would snap at any moment and her head ached from her attempt to break his nose. She couldn’t breathe from the combination of her panic, his hand on her throat, his body on hers, and her battered ribs. Dexie let go of his beefy hand on her neck and tried with the last of her strength to push him away as Old Spice, blood, and terror invaded her every sense. Black spots swam in her vision as his hold on her throat tightened and she fought to stay conscious.

  Dexie saw triumph in Brent’s face through the haze of horror clouding her vision as he pushed himself into her. Her heart was slamming in her chest as she waited, begging every power that existed for help… for this hell to end. Then time stopped once more.

  Brent froze, wide-eyed and clearly shocked, before he pushed himself off her and away. He looked down and a blood-curdling scream erupted from him. Dexie rolled to her side coughing and gasping for air, ignoring the agony of her protesting ribs. Disregarding Brent’s screaming, she clawed her way to the nightstand where she’d left her cell phone. Groping in her search for the device, the lamp fell and shattered near her head. The nightstand tipped, sending her phone skittering. With a desperate sob of terror and only the thought of getting help, she pulled herself to where the phone was.

  Dexie tried to calm herself, tried to control her terror fueled tears, tried to see through them as she fumbled in an effort to call for help. Unable to stop her body’s violent tremors or stem her sobbing, she almost passed out in relief when she heard the sound of ringing through the phone.

  “Dexie?” Dray’s confused voice brought a fresh surge of sobs crashing from her.

  “I will kill you!” Brent screamed as Dexie opened her mouth to speak.

  “Help… me…” she gasped. Brent’s body flattened her against the ancient wood of the floor and his hands were on her throat once more. Dexie fought against his hands, pulling at his fingers as she tried to roll him from her back. She twisted enough to dislodge him as the black spots in her vision returned and began overwhelming her. The last thing she heard was another agonized scream from Brent as his weight left her once more.

  “Help…” she gasped one last time before the inky black spots became one and consciousness left her.

  The first thing Dexie noticed was that her body felt as though it were on fire. Pain, so deep that it seemed to be emanating from her bones, burned through her. The next thing she became aware of was noise. Loud, pulsing beeps in the distance; low, humming voices; and telephones ringing incessantly invaded her consciousness followed by a strong antiseptic smell. Without opening her eyes, Dexie wanted to take a deep breath but didn’t. She didn’t want to face the agony that encased her body. She didn’t want to face the noise. She didn’t want to face the smells. She didn’t want to face anything anymore. A soul-crushing misery settled over her, making her chest ache in a new way. Tears welled up in her eyes and slipped from behind her eyelids as she wished to be back in her apartment in Billings… wished that she were still invisible.

  Memories of Brent’s assault, the pain of his attack, the maniacal gleam in his icy glare, and the certainty that he’d have killed her if he hadn’t been in a good deal of his own agony assailed Dexie. A soft touch on her swollen cheek brought her eyes open in panic as she inhaled sharply in fear. A new and even sharper pain pierced the cloud of terror enveloping her as her ribs protested.

  “Shh, you’re safe now,” a gentle voice spoke. Slowly, working against every ache that tormented her, Dexie turned her head and eyes toward the source. An older woman with silver hair and compassionate blue eyes stood over Dexie. Confusion blossomed in her mind as she tried to understand who this woman was and why she looked so familiar.

  “Rosie?” Dexie croaked in confusion, her voice raw and her throat flaring with yet another source of pain.

  “No. I’m Nadine. I’m a nurse at St. Vincent’s in Billings. You were brought in this morning by ambulance from Peace.” The woman explained and Dexie struggled to contain her emotions. Once again, she was in Billings, alone and friendless. She nodded her understanding then winced as more shafts of agony shot through her body and rebounded. “I going to assume from the face you just made that you’re in significant pain.”

  “Yes,” Dexie rasped.

  “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake and get you something for your pain.”

  Dexie nodded briefly and closed her eyes. Misery was creeping over her with the certainty that her plan to regain her life had failed. Fighting her tears, she resisted opening her eyes when the door of her room opened and closed, allowing the bustle and noise of the hall beyond to invade the room for a brief moment.

  An hour later, Dexie lie in the darkness of her room, shocked to realize that she actually hurt worse now than she had when she’d first woke up. The doctor had seemed hell bent on poking and prodding her both physically and emotionally, even going so far as to insist on having a rape kit brought in. Dexie knew they’d find no evidence of rape other than marks on her legs and backside. She’d been relieved when they’d finally injected a painkiller into her IV.

  Now, she was left with nothing but her thoughts and misery as she waited for the medicine to make everything hurt less. The vaguest of memories tickled at her mind of having spoken to Dray that morning but she couldn’t be sure in the haze of agony she was coping with. Where was Dray? Did he think she’d left without a word again? Had Brent been caught? Had he suffered for his vile actions or had he weaseled out of punishment once again? With her head spinning with questions and her emotions running roughshod over her, Dexie closed her eyes and tried to relax.

  Evening was setting in when the vast sea of aches and discomfort brought Dexie from her drug-induced slumber. To her relief, moving was easier and less miserable, although still painful enough to bring tears to her eyes. She blinked slowly as she tried to rouse her sluggish mind. There was a part of her that desperately wished she could go to sleep and forget to wake. To be free of the pain and torment that was currently laying siege to her body, mind, and heart would be the most wonderful thing but the idea of letting Brent win was repulsive to the extreme. Dexie knew she should call Ivan and let him know what had happened, but she didn’t want to face him either. A sof
t tap on the door brought Dexie from her turbulent and dark thoughts. Slowly, to minimize the ache of moving, she turned her head toward the door.

  “Come in,” she murmured. Light poured into the dim room as the door opened. Dexie winced and closed her eyes against the harsh brightness, then blinked several times to see properly again after the door had been shut. When the glowing panels had dimmed in her vision, Dexie looked at her visitor and smiled as much as her swollen face would allow.

  “Oh, Dexie, I’m so sorry,” Dray’s voice was low and full of misery and guilt.

  “For what?” she asked with a frown.

  “That you got hurt.”

  “Dray, come here, please,” Dexie asked, the effort of lifting her head becoming more than she could handle. Dray picked up the only chair in the room, moved it to her bedside and sat. “It’s not your fault Brent is a bastard.”

  “No, but…” Dray protested.

  “But nothing. Did you know he never made it here last night… that he weaseled out of spending the night in the county jail?”

  “Not until this morning, and as soon as I found out he was in Peace, I tried to get to you before he hurt you. But… I’m sorry I failed you.”

  “Dray, you didn’t fail me. No one could have prevented what happened. Believe me. I’ve spent the last ten years on borrowed time knowing that as soon as I returned to Peace he’d be quick to come after what he’d been denied before. I just wish I’d succeeded in stopping him.”

  “He won’t be forgetting what you did to him any time soon,” Dray admitted with a small, smug grin.

  “What do you mean?” Dexie asked, afraid to hope that she’d managed to catch Brent in a trap of his own.

  “I mean once he got out of surgery and recovery, he was promptly escorted to the county jail. I don’t know what happened between you two at the cabin, but he came away from it with his junk stuck in the most evil looking thing I’ve ever seen and he was howling like a bear with its paw caught in a trap. The ER doc said he’d never seen anything like it and the surgeon said the same.”