Taken by Tuesday (The Weekday Brides #5)(27)
Author: Catherine Bybee

Processing the man’s words added confusion to the horror when the man pinned her body against his and the wall of the garage. He slid something over her head, giving her a chance to yell.

His hand clasped over her mouth again as he pulled her away from the wall far enough to slam her against it. The back of her head hit hard enough to see stars in the darkness of the cloth that kept her from seeing her attacker.

He was going to kill her. She felt it deep inside.

Something sharp scratched her arm, leaving hot pain in its wake.

“It would be so easy . . . so f**kin’ easy.” It took his hand crawling up her thigh to make her fight with every ounce of strength she owned.

It took both of his hands now to control hers. Using her feet, she kicked, most of the time landing against the air.

She landed on her purse when they fell to the floor. Her one hand still clenched her cell phone. Why she managed to hold on to it, she didn’t know.

Her knee landed a shot and her attacker slammed her head a second time. A warm trickle of blood started to flow down her neck. Nausea rolled up her throat.

“Not much of a fighter, are you?”

She shook her head, attempted to yell behind his hand that clamped over her mouth.

The man holding her shifted and tears started to roll down her cheeks. The only thing she could see was the dim light of the garage through the cloth. His shadow loomed over her. Please God. No.

“Next time,” her attacker said against her ear right as something hit the side of her head, and the world went dark.

I’m being stood up.

Rick paced the inside of Michael’s house, more than a little irritated that the clock on the wall told him Judy wasn’t there. He didn’t see her as the kind of woman to play this kind of game. A phone call, a text . . . anything was better than this.

A little itch in the back of his throat told him his Judy wasn’t that kind of woman. She was honest with him when she didn’t want to go out, and wouldn’t hesitate to tell him to his face that she changed her mind.

He was about to give up and take the walk of shame back home when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

Judy’s name filled the screen.

He hesitated, wondering what her excuse would be . . . or would she just tell him no again?

He pressed answer and lifted the phone to his ear. He forced a smile and said, “Hey, babe.”

At first, there was nothing. Then every cell in his body turned ice cold. “Rick?” Her voice was soft, scared. Judy sucked in a cry. “Rick?”

The skin on his arm stood on alert. “Judy? What is it? Where are you?”

“Rick?” She was crying full-on now.

“Judy?” He wanted to crawl through the phone. “Honey, what . . .”

“Let me help you,” he heard the voice of a woman and the shuffle of the phone. “Rick Evans?”

“This is . . . what’s wrong? What happened?”

The sound of a siren added to the alarm inside his head. Rick ran to the front door and jumped into Michael’s Ferrari, which was already waiting for his date.

“Mr. Evans, Judy is on her way to the ER at UCLA. She asks that you meet her there.”

With a direction, Rick sped from the estate, the cell phone to his ear. “Is she OK?” What kind of stupid question was that? Of course she’s not OK. “What happened? Car accident?”

“No. I’ll let her explain. I’ll tell the doctors to expect you.”

The call disconnected, giving Rick two hands to drive bat-shit crazy all the way to UCLA.

Chapter Eleven

Sometimes it took defining moments in your life to explain where clichés came from. The term “the longest fifteen minutes of my life” never had a real meaning until Rick was pacing an emergency room lobby waiting for Judy to return from a CAT scan. Damn it if no one would even tell him what she needed a CAT scan of. No one would talk to him at all. Yes, Judy Gardner was there, yes, he was OK to see her when she returned, but, no, they weren’t at liberty to tell him anything else.

His only savior of sanity was the knowledge that she wasn’t rushed to surgery and that she was at least in a condition to tell the staff that she wanted to see him.

“Mr. Evans?”

He shot from his small corner of the lobby, rubbed a hand down his chin, and said, “That’s me. I’m Rick Evans.”

The nurse nodded toward the doors she stood behind and Rick proceeded to follow her into the bustling belly of the ER. She led him a few steps into the department and found a quiet corner before she stopped. “I’m Kim,” she introduced herself.

Frustrated that he wasn’t being led straight to Judy’s bedside, he shuffled his feet. “Where’s Judy?”

“Down the hall.” She nodded in the opposite direction.

Rick turned away from the nurse only to stop with her stern warning. “Mr. Evans! I need a word with you first.”

Rick hesitated, knowing on some deep level he didn’t want to hear what the nurse had to say.

“She’s banged up pretty bad.”

“What happened?”

Kim looked at the plain tile floor, which had seen more grief than either of them ever would in their lifetime. “She was attacked.”

Rick held his breath, his nose flared, and his fists were poised at his side ready for battle. “Attacked?”

“I’ll let her explain, but she wanted you to have some idea as to why she’s here. She’s upset, of course. We’re waiting for the CAT scan results and the doctor is going to need to stitch her up.”

Rick only half listened. Someone attacked her. Who? Why? How?

“Tell me the police have someone in custody.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t even think they have a description yet.”

Rick met Kim’s eyes. “Take me to her.”

The short span of hall was a maze of people and medical staff going about their day. At the end of the maze sat a single door. Two uniformed officers were talking with the medical staff. Rick noticed them eyeing him as he walked through the door.

One look. It took one look to understand what might drive a man to murder.

His innocent small-town spitfire lay on top of a three-inch mattress on a gurney with IV lines and monitors. Dried blood ran down the side of her face, bruising already evident at her temple. Gauze covered one arm and around her head. Finger marks bruised her cheek. Her eyes were closed when he walked in so he moved slowly in her direction.

Kim caught his arm and cleared her throat.