Read Online Anything for Him: Dominated (#1) by Carmen Cross - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Carmen Cross
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isn’t
your father.”
Meghan saw Danny just then; he was seated
in an old kitchen chair that had been placed in the center of the large central
room. His head was hanging and his arms and legs were bound to the chair with
thick lengths of hemp rope. He raised his head and, carefully - steadily,
he tipped his head her way, in a quiet attempt to let her know that he was okay.
Another bullet whined off of the cold
floor and she saw that if she didn’t get Danny out of harm’s way he would be
killed. She smiled at him and his face went stern. “No,” she heard him say and
then she was moving across the floor.
Bullets chunked and thudded. She grabbed
the chair, with him in it, and half-dragged, half- threw it across the room.
They hit the far wall with a solid thunk and Danny wheezed out an injured
breath. More bullets shattered the shelves in front of them.
Danny stared up at Meghan. His thoughts
were in total disarray and he knew he needed to think but he was completely at
a loss at her courage, at her willingness to die for him.
The ropes came undone and Danny staggered
to his feet. The blood returned to his limbs in a painful rush and he found
himself unable to walk unaided. He had to lean on Meghan’s slight form and they
made it into the second part of the cellar just as Gerry tired of trying to
kill from the staircase and rushed into the main room.
Meghan slammed the thick wooden door
shut, bullets chunked into it and she automatically ducked.
“How many bullets does that bastard
have?” Danny asked.
“I don’t know. He shot my mother.” Tears
swelled up in her eyes and she leaned her head against his chest, relishing the
feel of his solidity and warmth. “He said she wasn’t my mom.”
“I heard him.”
Things were starting to make sense to
Danny but he could tell they had yet to click in Meghan’s head. He wrapped his
arms around her and held her close as more bullets tore into the door.
Meghan stared at the shelves. The dusty
bottles of wine sat in their dusty rows, cradled securely in their little nooks
and the floor radiated a chill below her feet. She could not believe Gloria was
dead; she did not want to imagine that she was. Her mother had never been
especially warm or even kind but she had still been her mother. Or had she
been?
The sound of a second set of footsteps
put an end to her thoughts. “Dammit Gerry, what the fuck is going on here?” The
words were muffled but they could hear them thanks to the holes in the door.
“Your wife was going to tell the cops
what we were doing if we didn’t give her a bigger chunk of the payoff,” Gerry replied.
“I don’t know about you but I am not willing to share.”
“I guess that doesn’t fucking matter much
now, does it? She’s dead! Where the hell is Sullivan?”
“Hiding out in there with your beloved
daughter.”
The sarcasm in Gerry’s voice made Meghan
flinch. Danny shook his head at her and pulled her toward the small room where
her grandmother had stored the food she canned. “Windows,” he said, pointing to
a dirty pane that was barely visible on the far wall.
Meghan followed him into the chamber and
fear rapidly set in. She felt like a child again, one who had been locked into
a small space and left behind. Her heartbeat accelerated and her breath grew
quicker. Danny noted her distress and wondered at the cause but his highest
priority was getting her out of there and to safety. The fact that she had had
to come to his rescue was not lost on him and once more he was astounded by her
obvious love for him. And he was grateful for it as well.
The door shuddered open and the two men
came in. Gerry headed right; Tom came at them from the left. They rushed
through the room, past the jars filled with the cloudy liquid that surrounded
apricots, grape jam, pickled watermelon rinds and spiced pears. Tom spotted
them heading for the windows and he rushed Danny.
Danny had already turned around. It took
him only a second to
your father.”
Meghan saw Danny just then; he was seated
in an old kitchen chair that had been placed in the center of the large central
room. His head was hanging and his arms and legs were bound to the chair with
thick lengths of hemp rope. He raised his head and, carefully - steadily,
he tipped his head her way, in a quiet attempt to let her know that he was okay.
Another bullet whined off of the cold
floor and she saw that if she didn’t get Danny out of harm’s way he would be
killed. She smiled at him and his face went stern. “No,” she heard him say and
then she was moving across the floor.
Bullets chunked and thudded. She grabbed
the chair, with him in it, and half-dragged, half- threw it across the room.
They hit the far wall with a solid thunk and Danny wheezed out an injured
breath. More bullets shattered the shelves in front of them.
Danny stared up at Meghan. His thoughts
were in total disarray and he knew he needed to think but he was completely at
a loss at her courage, at her willingness to die for him.
The ropes came undone and Danny staggered
to his feet. The blood returned to his limbs in a painful rush and he found
himself unable to walk unaided. He had to lean on Meghan’s slight form and they
made it into the second part of the cellar just as Gerry tired of trying to
kill from the staircase and rushed into the main room.
Meghan slammed the thick wooden door
shut, bullets chunked into it and she automatically ducked.
“How many bullets does that bastard
have?” Danny asked.
“I don’t know. He shot my mother.” Tears
swelled up in her eyes and she leaned her head against his chest, relishing the
feel of his solidity and warmth. “He said she wasn’t my mom.”
“I heard him.”
Things were starting to make sense to
Danny but he could tell they had yet to click in Meghan’s head. He wrapped his
arms around her and held her close as more bullets tore into the door.
Meghan stared at the shelves. The dusty
bottles of wine sat in their dusty rows, cradled securely in their little nooks
and the floor radiated a chill below her feet. She could not believe Gloria was
dead; she did not want to imagine that she was. Her mother had never been
especially warm or even kind but she had still been her mother. Or had she
been?
The sound of a second set of footsteps
put an end to her thoughts. “Dammit Gerry, what the fuck is going on here?” The
words were muffled but they could hear them thanks to the holes in the door.
“Your wife was going to tell the cops
what we were doing if we didn’t give her a bigger chunk of the payoff,” Gerry replied.
“I don’t know about you but I am not willing to share.”
“I guess that doesn’t fucking matter much
now, does it? She’s dead! Where the hell is Sullivan?”
“Hiding out in there with your beloved
daughter.”
The sarcasm in Gerry’s voice made Meghan
flinch. Danny shook his head at her and pulled her toward the small room where
her grandmother had stored the food she canned. “Windows,” he said, pointing to
a dirty pane that was barely visible on the far wall.
Meghan followed him into the chamber and
fear rapidly set in. She felt like a child again, one who had been locked into
a small space and left behind. Her heartbeat accelerated and her breath grew
quicker. Danny noted her distress and wondered at the cause but his highest
priority was getting her out of there and to safety. The fact that she had had
to come to his rescue was not lost on him and once more he was astounded by her
obvious love for him. And he was grateful for it as well.
The door shuddered open and the two men
came in. Gerry headed right; Tom came at them from the left. They rushed
through the room, past the jars filled with the cloudy liquid that surrounded
apricots, grape jam, pickled watermelon rinds and spiced pears. Tom spotted
them heading for the windows and he rushed Danny.
Danny had already turned around. It took
him only a second to
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