Beyond Control (Texas Trilogy #3)

But every day she worried.

Every night, she lay awake, straining to hear the sound of an intruder. Tonight, as she lay in the darkness and listened to the heavy footfalls outside her bedroom door, she knew Damon had found her again.

Cold fear slid through her. It was as if her worst nightmare had come to life and she had to live it all over again.

Only this time, she was prepared.

Her heart slammed like a hammer against the wall of her chest as he shoved open the bedroom door. She had no idea how he had gotten inside, but she knew him well enough to know if he wanted in, nothing was going to stop him.

There was no time to pick up the phone and dial 9-1-1. Help wouldn’t arrive in time if she did. Instead she summoned her courage and forced down her fear.

“What are you doing here, Damon?” Glad for the white cotton nightgown she’d started wearing after the beating, she sat up in bed, her eyes on the man who had just stepped into her bedroom.

She knew exactly what to do. In her mind, she had rehearsed this scenario a hundred times. The knowledge calmed her a little. “Get out before I call the police.”

He just laughed. “You think I’m leaving? It’s taken me months to find you. When I leave, sweetheart, you’re going with me.”

Like hell I am. “What happened to you, Damon? You never used to be like this.”

“You don’t think so?” He propped a thick shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “I finally accepted who I am—that’s what happened. Sooner or later, you will, too.”

She was shaking inside. She didn’t dare let him see how terrified she really was. “I’m not going with you, Damon. Not now or anytime in the future.” She was ready for this, she reminded herself. She just needed him to come a little closer. “I’m warning you. I’m calling the police. This is your last chance.”

“You little bitch. You think you scare me? You’ve belonged to me since the day you put my ring on your finger. That isn’t going to change. It’s time you accepted it and I plan to see that you do.” A hard smile curved his lips. “First, I’m going to punish you, give you the beating you deserve; then we’re leaving. And there isn’t a damn thing you can do.”

Wait, Tory warned herself. She swallowed a fresh rush of fear as Damon shoved away from the wall and started toward her. You’ll only get one chance. The eyes she saw in her nightmares were dark with a combination of barely suppressed rage and anticipation. His hands fisted as he stalked across the room, around to the side of the bed.

The stun gun was in her hand before he reached her. She swung her arm toward him so fast he didn’t see it coming, the stun gun making contact—right in the middle of Damon’s chest.

A gurgling sound came from his throat. His eyes shot wide open and his teeth clenched into a frozen snarl. His muscles contracted. His head jerked back and forth before she hit him again and he crashed to the floor beside the bed.

Tory shot off the mattress. With shaking hands, she pulled open the top drawer in the nightstand and grabbed a couple of nylon zip ties from the bag she had bought at Home Depot to prepare for exactly this. Dragging Damon’s limp arms behind his back, she looped a tie around his wrists and cinched it tight. She did the same with his feet, pulling the tie tightly together around his ankles.

She hit him again with the stun gun to be sure he wouldn’t struggle while she stuffed a washcloth into his mouth and tied a scarf around his head to hold it in place.

Dressing quickly in jeans and a short-sleeved sweatshirt, she opened the closet door and grabbed the go-bags she kept packed for her and Ivy, snatched her purse, stunned him again just because he deserved it, and ran down the hall.

She shook the little blond girl’s shoulder. “Get up, sweetheart, we have to leave.”

Ivy was wide-awake in an instant. “Is it him? Is he here?” Her daughter was terrified of Damon, and she had every right to be.

“He’s tied up in the bedroom. We need to leave. We have to hurry.”

Dressed in her unicorn pajamas, Ivy grabbed Pansy, her brown velvet stuffed pony, and raced down the hall to the living room.

She slid to a stop in front of the door. “Where are we going?” She looked frantically back over her small shoulder, her face pale with fear.

“Someplace safe. Someplace Damon won’t find us.”

Ivy’s blue eyes filled with tears. “There’s no such place, Mama.” She started crying. “There’s no place safe from Damon.”

Tory jerked the door open and urged Ivy out into the night. “There is a place, honey. This time we won’t stop until we find it.”

Tory and Ivy raced for the car.





Chapter Three


Three weeks passed. Three weeks since Ramirez had quit and left the ranch, and Josh still hadn’t found a reliable stable hand. He’d hired a kid just out of high school but the boy had quit after shoveling manure only a couple of days.

Like a lot of kids today, Chris expected to start as foreman instead of working his way up from the lowest job on the ranch, or at least that’s the way it looked to Josh.

He’d had to fire the second guy for stealing.

“You’re finished, Randy,” he’d said. “Get your stuff and get out of here.”

The lanky black-haired teen clamped his hands on his skinny hips. “Man, you gotta be kidding! You’re gonna fire me for taking a five-gallon can of gas? I had to drive out here, didn’t I? That ought to be worth something.”

“You wanted the gas, you should have asked. Take a hike and don’t come back.”

“Screw you, dude.”

The kid grumbled all the way to his car, then shot Josh the bird as he roared off down the dirt road to the highway.

So Josh was back to shoveling the stalls himself. With so many people looking for work, it should have been easy to hire someone, and he could afford to pay for the help.

In high school, he’d been dirt poor, working two jobs to help his single mother feed and clothe them. His life had changed course when his mother had told him about his half brother, a son his no-good father had sired by a previous wife before Josh was born.

Lincoln Cain, a man who’d spent two years in prison for attempted robbery, had become a mega-successful entrepreneur. Linc had turned his life around and was now co-owner of Texas American Enterprises, a billion-dollar corporation.

His brother’s success had motivated Josh to rethink his own potential. It made him believe he could make a better life for himself.

Over that summer, he’d set some goals, met them, set new goals and achieved those, too. The summer after graduation, his mom, a smoker, had died of lung cancer, which had sent him into a tailspin for a while, but at least she was finally free of the drunken wife-beater who had been Josh and Linc’s dad.

Josh had put himself through community college, then enlisted in the marines. He’d gone on to become a special operations sniper, but the smartest thing he’d done was invest in his brother’s company.

Every extra dime he earned, every penny he could get his hands on, went into Tex/Am stock. Being in Afghanistan made saving easy. The stock he bought went up, split, went up, split, and went up again.

Josh wasn’t the multimillionaire his brother was, but he wasn’t poor, either. Buying the ranch had set him back a little, but the mortgage was the only money he owed. He still had plenty in the bank, enough to live the way he wanted and make the ranch a success.

The trick was finding decent help. He had a couple of good wranglers, but there were other jobs he needed them to do. He’d keep looking. He had a couple of ideas that might pan out. The hands lived in town. He had moved the double-wide he’d been living in onto the Iron River Ranch, but it was empty now that he’d moved into the remodeled house.

He’d decided to put an ad in the newspaper offering the use of the trailer along with the job. Might get someone more reliable.

In the meantime, he had plenty of work to do.

Josh grabbed a shovel and a wheelbarrow and headed for the horse barn.