him.
Why the hell would Sadie or any woman want to be with him anyway? He had nothing to offer.
His boots clicked as he strode through the downstairs searching for more weapons. He found a shotgun and rifle and carried them back up the stairs and down the hall toward his old room. Tomorrow he had to make a plan. Figure out a way to find the man who’d framed him.
But it was late and his adrenaline had waned, so he yanked off his clothes and fell onto the metal bed he used to call his, wearing only his boxers.
Even though he was worn out, he couldn’t sleep for the troubling memories crashing down on him. Memories of things that had happened in this house. A house that had been filled with daily horrors.
The brutal tongue-lashings. The physical beatings. The night his old man had broken Carter’s nose when he’d thrown him against the wall.
The day when he was ten and his father had stripped his clothes, tied him to a tree and beaten him with a switch until his legs had been bloody. His brother had been terrified and had hidden in the woods.
Brandon and Johnny had found him, untied him and carried him to the creek to clean his wounds. He’d been half unconscious, spitting blood and feeling humiliated.
But both of them had admitted that their daddies were just as mean, their houses just as sick and twisted, then they’d shown him their scars. The moment had bound the men together forever.
Carter had vowed to stand by them after that, and the three of them had protected each other.
Another memory splintered through the haze, this one even more painful. The day his daddy had killed his mother.
Carter had run away as fast as his legs could carry him.
He shouldn’t have been so selfish. Should have taken his brother with him.
But his brother had been the golden boy, the one his father loved. It hadn’t occurred to him that his father would vent his rage on him.
And in the end, he hadn’t had to. His brother had killed himself.
And here he was back in the same crummy house he’d started in. Only his life had gone to hell. He had a criminal record, the law on his tail and a man who was determined to kill him breathing down his neck.
He racked his brain trying to recall an image of the man Sadie said he’d fought with in the bar, but those days and nights he’d been in an alcohol-induced blur, and nothing registered.
Disgusted, he closed his eyes and finally collapsed into a fitful sleep. But sometime later, a noise jarred him awake.
A car? Footsteps? He scrubbed his hand over his face, disoriented.
Then a scream pierced the air. A scream that cut through the chilling silence. Sadie’s scream.
Had the damn bastard found them?
He grabbed his gun from the dresser, yanked his jeans on, although he didn’t take time to snap them, then raced down the hall.
He had to get to Sadie.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
