It had been Chelsea who had bashed Holden over the head with a lamp and Liza who had pulled the rifle on him that her father had given her when she moved into the apartment with Isabelle and Chelsea.
Naked, reeling from the attack, Isabelle had jerked the gun from Liza, cocked it and would have killed him herself if Chelsea hadn’t stepped between the gun and Holden. It had given him a chance to run out before she could put the rest of the female population out of any more misery that he could deliver.
She would have shot his balls off.
“A far different ending for him if you had just stayed out from in front of that gun,” she stated though she didn’t turn back to them. “I should have just killed him before you had a chance to step between us.”
There were nights she wished she hadn’t allowed her sister to stop her. Nights that she had lay frightened, listening to his truck as it rumbled up their street. Her bedroom was at the front of the house, the other two at the back. Her sister and Liza never knew about the nights Holden tormented her, and she didn’t want them to know.
If he had just let it go. If he had just left her alone. But since that night he refused to give her any peace. He was stalking her, his determination to rape her becoming an obsession she knew she was going to have to deal with soon.
“You should tell your uncle at least,” Liza told her as Isabelle watched her reflection in the window.
Her friend rose from her chair and collected her purse from the floor. Dressed in jeans as well and a stylish cami, the other woman drew the straps of her purse over her bare shoulder before saying, “I have to get to bed if I’m going to be up in time to be in the conference room in the morning. Think about it, Isabelle. That, or find a man, or a Breed, that Holden won’t f**k with. Otherwise, you’re going to end in far more trouble than Chelsea and I saved you from that night. It’s pretty clear Holden’s f**ked up in the head, and men like that won’t let you rest until one of you is dead.”
That was Liza. She didn’t hold much back. And though she might appear cool, or unfeeling, Isabelle knew differently. Her friend rarely let herself show emotion. She had lost her family when she was no more than a teenager and she often had nightmares over it.
“Yeah, I have to head to bed too.” Chelsea sighed as she looked around the room. “But I’m staying right here unless tall, blond and Breedy shows up.”
Stubborn determination tightened Chelsea’s normally pouty lips as she stared back at her sister, silently daring her to try to make her leave.
Isabelle turned back to both women. “What would I do without the two of you?” Tears flooded her eyes though she forced them back rather than letting them fall.
Liza had been their best friend for years. Though Chelsea was younger, Isabelle had never denied her sister the chance to tag along with them, and because of that, she had become part of the bonds of friendship that tied them together. Their friendship was set in stone, and their concern for each other was always there.
“You would be miserable, lonely and probably living by yourself with a house full of cats instead of two crazy women,” Liza grunted as she headed for the connecting door. “Now, get some sleep. I’ll leave the door open. If you need me, just scream.”
She moved to the connecting room as Isabelle turned to her sister. “You could just do the same.” She all but laughed at her sister’s mutinous expression. “You’re not tall, blond and Breedy, so I’m not sharing my bed with you.”
“And you’d share it with him?” Her sister rolled her eyes. “You might have been all hot and bothered with him, but you forget, Isabelle, I’m your sister. You’re not going to give it up to him any more than you’ve given yourself to any other man. But you’re right. I can just leave the door open.” She moved to the connecting door on the opposite side of the room. “Get some sleep, sis. I’ll see you in the morning.”
In the morning.
Isabelle turned back to the window and stared out at the desert landscape once again. Lifting her hand, she laid it against the window and pressed her forehead into the glass.
How many times over the years had she done just this? Stared into the night and wondered why she was so restless, wondered what she was searching for? Whom she was searching for?
Moving her arms to cross them over her br**sts, she rubbed at her upper arms and tried to chase the chill from her flesh.
She felt hot and cold, nervous and yet so weary she couldn’t seem to hold her eyes open. But closing her eyes just brought to mind the sensual threat Malachi had made. That he would f**k her all night long. All day long. Possibly all week long.
Her vagina clenched at the memory of his voice, his gaze, the way his body seemed to wrap protectively around her. The thought of having him wrap himself around her like that after f**king her into exhaustion had her body aching for the sensation of it.
Yes, she wanted him in her bed. She wanted him between her thighs. But strangely, God, she didn’t even know him, but she wanted him in her life. She wanted to share that part of herself that she had never shared before.
Her heart.
While she had stood within his embrace, she had felt warm, protected and secure. She had felt as though nothing or no one could touch her, could harm her. And that was a very dangerous feeling for her to have.
Because she knew better now.
She knew better, and the monster that haunted those fears refused to let her go.
“Her name is Isabelle Martinez. She’s my cousin, you mangy, f**king Coyote,” Rule growled as he stared at the information on the e-pad he held. “Twenty-five years old, the daughter of Terran Martinez and Ellen Johnson Martinez. Her mother, Ellen, is deceased. She’s the personal assistant to the chief of the Navajo Nation, Ray Martinez, and she’ll be present at the meeting in the morning.”
Malachi heard the edge of concern and anger in Rule Breaker’s voice. Didn’t it just figure. His mate was this bastard’s first cousin. Just his luck. He rubbed at the back of his neck, irritation tightening his muscles as he fought back the need to find her.
Now.