Her face crumples. “Oh, no.” She buckles at the waist, hugging her chest. “I should’ve…” Tears saturate her whisper. “I should’ve told him. If I had, maybe Tiana would’ve—”
“Raina.”
She clamps a hand over her mouth, trapping a sob.
“Raina, look at me.”
Her damp eyes lift to mine.
I roll the truck to the side of the road and stop. “Do you think John would’ve let you go as easily as he let go of the cattle business?”
Her hand lowers to her lap, and she shakes her head, her voice hoarse. “I don’t know.”
Tears slip over high elegant cheekbones, and slender shoulders hunch around the prettiest face I’ve ever seen. Her hair hangs like a velvet black curtain around her arms, her curvaceous body flawlessly shaped in the form of every man’s erotic dream.
I only need to look at her to know John Holsten covets her above all else.
“He wouldn’t have surrendered you.” I turn back to the road and slowly hit the gas. “Not under any threat.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She straightens in the seat and clears her voice. “He openly discussed his dealings in front of me—the manipulations with the land, his efforts to keep you and Conor away, his shady partnerships with creditors and local law enforcement. I heard it all, because he had no intention of ever letting me go.”
“What happened when you moved to Texas?”
“My mom started using drugs again and stopped taking Tiana to her dialysis appointments. No one was there to hold her accountable. I wasn’t there.” She yanks a hand through her hair. “I fucking left Tiana with that worthless fucking whore and… My baby sister died.” Her voice deadens to a hollow whisper. “She died eight months ago, and I didn’t find out until two months after she was cremated.”
I approach the ranch and slow the truck to a crawl, my limbs stiff, my insides sick with shock.
“I kept asking him about her.” She stares out the side window, trembling. “When he wouldn’t tell me, I threatened to leave, to find a phone, to do whatever I needed to check on her. She was the only reason I was with him. The only reason I let him…in my body.” She makes a pained noise. “He finally told me she passed. That’s the night he chained me in the spare room.”
He lost his leverage and locked her up to keep her from fleeing. That was six months ago? She was chained up for that long?
My fingers clench, creaking the leather steering wheel.
I spent eight years in prison, mourning my sister’s assault. But this is worse. She was shackled in a room like an animal, alone, beaten, and raped while mourning her sister’s death.
“Christ.” I rub a hand down my face. “No wonder you want to kill him. How did you manage to call Maybe?”
“He locked me in the bathroom every night so I could shower. That night, he’d been drinking, and I was able to swipe his phone from his pocket.” She leans her head back and closes her eyes. “The moment I was alone in the bathroom, I called the only number I’d memorized. When Maybe answered, I checked the door and realized he forgot to lock it. Through the crack, I saw his pistol sitting on the coffee table in the living room, and he was nowhere in sight.”
“So you changed your mind and told her not to come.” My head pounds as everything clicks in place. “That’s why you told her not to call the cops. You hung up on her and went after the gun, intending to shoot him.”
“Yeah. I cleared the call history and dropped the phone on his recliner. Just in case. I didn’t want him going after Maybe. Then I grabbed the gun and figured out how to turn off the safety. When he walked around the corner, I aimed and squeezed the trigger.”
Maybe Quinn saw him the next day and never mentioned a gunshot wound. Raina either missed or…
“The pistol wasn’t loaded.” Her breath slips out with a shudder. “I can still feel that hollow click. I was stunned, frozen, and knew my time was up.” She touches the bruise around her eye. “When he punched me, it was like a hammer. Knocked me out cold. I woke in that room, chained to the wall, with him rutting on top of me and beating my face into… Well, you’re looking at it. I don’t remember much after that. Until Maybe showed up.”
John was smart enough to remove his bullets before he started drinking. He’s a dirty dealing bastard, but when it comes to gun safety, he’s a fucking saint. He drilled that shit into my head growing up.
Thank Christ Raina had the foresight to clear his phone logs. Otherwise, he would’ve known she made a call and dealt with Maybe when she showed up. I wonder if Raina knows she saved Maybe’s life.