Page 4 of Wanted by the Lawman

CHAPTER 2

AFTER DRINKING HALF a bottle of whiskey, Rory passed out. Unfortunately, which he must have thought would seal his plan to keep her from leaving, he fell asleep with his back against the door to her closet so if she somehow got away, she couldn’t get to her clothes.

He didn’t understand how badly she wanted to leave.

Once he was snoring and had been out for an hour, she wiggled her cuffed arm, testing him. No movement from him.

Slowly, she leaned in, careful not to wake him, and touched his shirt where he said he’d placed the key. Carefully, she slid one finger inside the pocket, feeling for her freedom nestled there. Just as he had said, the key was in his pocket. She was a little shocked that he hadn’t made things a little harder. Wasting no time, she grasped the key. He groaned, shifting his shoulders and his lids popped open. Her breath stilled in her lungs. Sweat beaded on her forehead. He moaned something inaudible, blew out a breath laced in stale whiskey, then closed his eyes, his snoring returning, deeper this time.

Thank God!

Within seconds, she had the handcuffs unlocked and was standing, looking down at the slumped man she’d once loved. Once thought he was a kind man. He had his hand tight around the neck of the whiskey bottle, about the only thing he loved these days. He’d be out for a good six hours, but she couldn’t risk moving him to get into her closet.

Scanning the inside of the bedroom, she worked her bottom lip. After tonight, she couldn’t stay and wouldn’t be back. Wynn didn’t need her clothes to be happy. They were only material things.

In his closet, she found his gym bag, dumped out shoes and other odds and ends, but kept the hand weights inside because a woman always needed to have some form of protection with her. Dragging it out to her dresser, she quickly removed everything out of the drawers, dropping clothes on the floor in her haste. At her vanity she grabbed a handful of bottles, dropped them in with her clothing and started to slide the zipper close when she paused, eyeing her jewelry case. Although she didn’t plan on ever wearing anything from the box again, she deserved every diamond and gold bracelet because she’d worked for each piece. So, she dropped the entire contents into the bag.

Sliding her feet into a pair of flats she had sitting by her vanity, she quietly tugged the bag down the hallway and the long, spiral staircase, panting by the time she made it to the ground floor. She guessed the jewelry and weights must weigh a ton. From the entry table she grabbed her purse and took out her car keys, laying them aside. If she planned to sever all ties, she had to leave everything Rory had his name attached to. That included the Lexus. Wynn didn’t need the luxurious car any longer, at least not where she was going. It would only draw attention to her and that was the last thing she needed.

In her wallet, she counted two hundred in cash. Plenty for a plane ticket, but what would she eat on when she got to Wyoming? She wouldn’t be using her credit or debit card because she didn’t want him tracking her down. Remembering the cash Rory had hidden in his office, Wynn hurried to use the key from under the desk calendar and unlocked the bottom drawer, taking out the envelope buried under a stack of files. He didn’t know she knew the stash was there. Inside it, she counted a thousand, all in twenties, so crisp the bills felt like they’d never been used.

“Sorry, Rory,” she whispered. A part of her felt guilty for taking the money, but this was nothing compared to what Rory had in his bank accounts, yet she no longer cared. She’d go back to eating beans and rice if that meant freedom from a life that didn’t suit her. A life where she wasn’t respected.

Standing at the threshold, she turned to give the luxurious condo one last glance and then she walked out, closing the door quietly behind her.

~~~**~~~

“Wakey, wakey.”

Rory fluttered his eyes open, blinking against the bright light and pain in his temples. Bringing his hand up to rub his forehead, he heard a jingling of metal and then he remembered why he was asleep on the floor. He brought his chin up and jerked when he came face-to-face with anger, and it wasn’t Wynn. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You have a nice place here, Salvano.” The balding, pockmarked-faced man knelt beside Rory.

“You’re not supposed to come here, Garvey.” Movement in the doorway made Rory look, half expecting to see Wynn, but it was Garvey’s goon who was broader and meaner-looking. Where the hell is Wynn?

“When you decided not to show up with the delivery, Striker and I decided to pay you a visit.” Garvey swiped a pudgy hand down his broad, whiskered jaw.

“What time is it?”

“Time for you to get up from the floor and give us the merchandise,” Striker said from the doorway.

Garvey snickered and stood. “You heard the man. Get the hell up.” He nudged Rory in the ribs with the toe of his polished shoe.

“I’ll get your shit, but then I want you both out of my house.” Rory pushed himself up from the floor and stretched his aching back, noticing that several of the drawers on Wynn’s dresser were open and empty. He’d figure out where she had gone later.

“We’ll be glad to get out of your hair once we have what we came for,” Garvey followed him to the closet, “and let you get back to whatever kink you’ve been freaking.”

Rory stepped into his closet and made an opening in the row of clothes. Reaching down for the gym bag, he grasped empty air instead. Dropping to his knees, he frantically searched the floor, corner to corner, and came up empty. His balls shrunk to the size of walnuts. Fuck!

“What’s the fucking hold up, shithead?” Striker bellowed.

His mind racing, Rory looked at the locked box where he kept his loaded Glock. He didn’t have the key on him to open it. No doubt, the two goons were packing and would shoot him dead before he could place his finger on the trigger. Mother fuck! Wynn had left him, and she must have taken the bag where he’d stashed the delivery. What the hell would he do?

The only choice he had was to face the bastards.

Once on his feet, he took two steps, but came to a halt when Garvey planted a large hand into his chest. “Where’s the merchandise, Salvano?”

“We have a problem.” The dangling handcuffs clanked loudly.

---