Free Descended (The Red Blindfold Book 3) by Rose Devereux Page B

the bedroom wall. Drex
heard the sound before I did, the distant crunch of tires on gravel
and the low roar of a car engine.
    “What the hell?” he
muttered.
    Rolling quickly away
from me, he got up. He shut off the wall switch, leaving the room
dark except for the glow from the terrace. “Hell of a guard dog in
the living room,” he muttered. “Not even a bark.”
    I sat up in bed. “What
is it?”
    “Shhh.” He went to
the window and pulled the drapes back an inch. “Somebody’s here.”
    “Somebody?” I
whispered.
    “Yeah. Might be some
guys I don’t want to see.”
    “Why not?”
    “Let’s just say
I’ve got some old scores to settle. Personal ones, that go back
years.”
    An engine turned off
and a car door shut. I felt a cold jolt of fear. The whole house was
silent.
    “You said something
about the security here,” I said, a shudder bristling across my
skin.
    “The lack thereof,”
Drex said. “This is exactly what I meant.”
    His expression was
stone-cold and emotionless. After a minute, he leaned toward the
window and peered out again. I heard him mumble something under his
breath.
    “What’s happening?”
    “I’m not sure.
There’s one truck and three men, from what I can see.”
    “Could it be your
father?”
    “He wouldn’t come
looking for me,” Drex said, reaching for the nightstand drawer.
“Not unless he wanted something from me, and he knows better than
to ask.”
    I saw a glint of metal
as he stuck something in his waistband. “What’s that?”
    “A gun,” he said
matter-of-factly. “You think a gun store owner has a house without
one? Or ten?”
    Arms crossed, he leaned
against the wall and waited. He looked almost bored. We were in the
middle of nowhere and outnumbered, but Drex seemed more
inconvenienced than anything else.
    The nerve of the man.
He either had a spine of steel or a very good poker face.
    There were footsteps
outside the window and around the house. Neither of us said a word.
Eventually, the truck’s engine roared to life. Headlights lit up
the drapes, and the men drove off.
    I let out a long, tense
sigh. Drex didn’t move until everything was dark and silent again.
    “I’m surprised they
left,” he said, putting the gun back in the drawer. “Doesn’t
make sense.”
    “Could they have come
to see the owner?” I asked.
    “He doesn’t live
here. It’s an investment property for him. Everybody knows he lives
in a fortress on the other side of Chimayo.”
    “You didn’t
recognize the truck?”
    He shook his head. “I
haven’t been here in a long time. I remember a few people, but
hopefully they don’t remember me.” There was a faint note of
amusement in his voice.
    “Maybe it was a
mistake,” I said, walking over to him. “A wrong turn or
something.”
    “There are no wrong
turns out here. Only people looking for trouble.”
    “You think they were
looking for you?”
    He pulled back the
drapes and looked out, scanning the empty driveway and the dirt road
running across the desert. “Maybe they were. Or…” He quirked
his mouth.
    “Or?” I said.
    Letting the curtain
drop, he turned toward me. “Or maybe, darlin’, they were looking
for you.”

CHAPTER EIGHT
    I left Jane asleep in
bed the next morning, her hair spread temptingly across the pillow
and her bare shoulder rising and falling with every breath.
    She didn’t want to go
to the police, and neither did I. All I wanted was to slide up behind
her and wake her with my hard cock, but instead I quietly got dressed
and left the house. Somebody had to do something intelligent for the
first time in almost twenty-four hours.
    I drove into Chimayo to
the station where one of my high-school buddies, Miles, was a
homicide detective. We’d kept in sporadic touch, and he was always
the first guy I contacted when my father was wreaking havoc and I
needed inside information.
    On the way into town, I
called and gave him Jane’s story. By the time I got to the station,
he’d looked up