Читать книгу The Braddock Boys: Colton - Kimberly Raye, Kimberly Raye - Страница 8

HE WAS WATCHING her again.

Not her, in particular, of course. It was the sheriff’s newly arrived prisoner that really got his blood pumping. He’d been hanging around the office for the past three nights now. Watching. Waiting. The female deputy was just an added bonus.

He eyed the beige SUV as it pulled up to the curb out front. The door opened and the driver slid out from behind the wheel. The now familiar brunette walked around the nose of a brown and white Ford Explorer and strode up the steps of the two-story brick building.

The sweet, succulent scent of ripe cherries drifted through the open window of his black Ford F250 pick-up parked across the street. His nostrils flared, his gut clenched and his stomach hollowed out. A wave of awareness rolled through him and he shifted on the leather seat.

It was a crazy-ass reaction considering she barely looked female with her hair stuffed up under a stiff cowboy hat and her body hidden beneath the drab beige uniform. Reacting to her was friggin’ certifiable.

If he’d been your average cowboy.

But Colton Braddock had stopped being a run-of-the-mill wrangler the day he’d drawn his last mortal breath. He was a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old vampire who fed off both blood and sex, and he was hungry.

Starved.

He watched her pull open the door. Her trousers pushed and pulled, outlining her perfect ass for one delicious moment. His gut tightened. A shiver worked its way up his spine. The uniform, the hard facade, the back-the-hell-up attitude were all just a front for what lay beneath—a soft, curvaceous, passionate woman. Call it instinct. A sixth sense. A vampire’s prerogative. Whatever. He knew and damned if it didn’t work him into a frenzy.

Heat zig-zagged through his body and his heartbeat kicked up a notch. He drew a deep breath. Not that it helped, but old habits died hard, even after an entire century.

Easy.

The command echoed through his head and he drew another breath. And another. While the oxygen didn’t sustain him the way it once had, the repetitive motion helped draw his focus away from the demanding need. Watching her was one thing. Touching? Not a chance in hell.

He had plenty of bagged blood stashed back in his suitcase at the motel. More than enough to see him through the next few days while he was stuck in Skull Creek, Texas. While it didn’t taste half as good as the fresh stuff, he could make do. He would make do. The last thing he needed—the very last thing—was to get sidetracked by a woman. Even one that smelled better than a prize-winning cherry pie fresh from the oven.

Not no, but hell no.

He’d waited too long for this moment.

For revenge.

The door rocked shut behind her and he forced his attention to the plain brick building.

The jail was a throwback to the olden days with its steel bars on the windows and doors. Appearances aside, he wasn’t naive enough to think that the place hadn’t been modernized over the years. The sheriff himself was a good friend of Colton’s younger brother. The man was also a werewolf. While weres were few and far between and usually at odds with most vampires, Matt Keller was a good man. Trustworthy. He often joined forces with the handful of vampires in town when needed, just as he’d done now.

Once he’d heard the reason for Colton’s visit, he’d been more than happy to brief him on the security features that had been installed over the past decade. An automated lock system. Full camera set-up. Silent alarm. While the local jail wasn’t a long-term facility, it was more than adequate to house the average prisoner.

Career criminal Jimmy Holbrook was a completely different story.

The man had been convicted of armed robbery this time and was now sitting inside a cell awaiting transfer to a maximum security prison in El Paso to serve out his sentence.

But it wasn’t his crime that had him featured in every newspaper this side of the Rio Grande and a shitload of YouTube videos. It was the fact that he had a “knack” for escaping. At least that’s what the media called it.

Colton called it an accomplice.

The sun had set a half hour ago. The overhead spotlights had kicked on, bathing the steps in a soft yellow glow. The place seemed calm. Peaceful. Quiet.

Too quiet for a vampire hell-bent on rescuing her only kin.

While his three brothers felt certain Rose Braddock would come to help her one and only descendant, just as she had time and time again since his first arrest at the age of fifteen, Colton wasn’t so sure. She’d turned her back on family once before.

He could still see the billows of black smoke on the horizon and smell the putrid stench of ashes and burned cattle flesh. It had been one hell of a homecoming after four years raiding for the Confederacy. He and his brothers had given Quantrill and his boys a run for their money way back when, but the effort had been wasted. The South had lost and the Braddock boys had headed home to the Circle B to pick up where they’d left off.

He’d ridden up ahead of the others to find what was left of his beloved home, the buildings a smoldering pile of charred wood, the livestock either scattered or dead. And the people …

His throat tightened and bitterness worked its way up. A half-dozen ranch hands had died that night, burned beyond recognition. And the foreman. And his mother. His son. His wife.

Or so he’d thought.

But Rose was alive.

Guilty.

While he had no idea if she’d started the fire herself, he knew she’d played a part. Thanks to his younger brother Cody, they all knew the truth now. Rose hadn’t died that night. She’d fled the scene with another man and left them all to perish.

But Colton and his brothers hadn’t burned to death. They’d been saved by a vampire, turned just in the nick of time. Garrett Sawyer had happened on the scene by chance and given them another shot at life.

At revenge.

Ironically, he’d bestowed the same gift on Rose. Unknowingly, of course. The ancient vampire never would have turned her if he’d known that she’d practically murdered her family. When he’d run across her a few miles from the scene, he’d thought her and her partner an innocent couple ravaged by savage Indians.

He’d been wrong.

The past stirred along with images from that night. The burning house. A frantic horse. The limp body of a small boy, his face charred so badly he was unrecognizable.

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. The metal bent, giving way beneath his strength until his prints were permanently indented.

It had been so long since he’d thought of his son. Too long. But with the memory came the pain and so he tucked it back down deep until the pressure inside of him eased. His grip relaxed, but he didn’t let go.

Not of the steering wheel, or the anger. He held tight, feeling the heat as intensely as the hunger that now lived and breathed inside of him.

He’d lost everything because of Rose. She was a liar. A traitor. She’d sold him out, which was why his pride hesitated to believe that she would show up now in support of her last living relative. But his head … His head knew the truth.

The pattern was clear. Every reported escape mentioned a visit by a mysterious redhead just prior to the breakout. It had to be her.

And if she’d come all those other times, she would come now.

In the meantime …

His gaze shifted to the front window. Through the bars, he watched the deputy pull off her hat and set it on the corner of her desk. Her breasts trembled ever so slightly beneath the stiff blouse, the motion so subtle that he doubted anyone inside even noticed.

He did.

He noticed everything. The slight quiver of her bottom lip. The frantic staccato of her heartbeat. The sweet, succulent aroma of a woman who’d gone far too long without a man.

He fought against a wave of heat, but it was a fight he was destined to lose. He was burning up from the inside out after seventy-two hours cooped up on surveillance. Hungry. Desperate.

For an up close and personal look of the jail, he reminded himself. He’d been biding his time, sleeping during the day and watching all night, waiting for his ticket inside so he could vampire-proof Jimmy’s cell in preparation for Rose.

It wouldn’t have been a problem if Jimmy had been your average prisoner, but the jail was on lock-down with all deputies on high alert and a ball-busting Texas Ranger parked inside. While Sheriff Matt wanted to help the Braddock boys, he couldn’t jeopardize his reputation in the process. Colton needed a believable cover and proper clearance if he wanted access.

Enter Brent Braddock. Colton’s brother was an ex-security specialist with friends in high places. He’d managed to get to the right people and pull some strings. Soon Colton would enter the Skull Creek Sheriff’s Office as a county-contracted security consultant. His job? To evaluate and perform an upgrade on the current system.

His ticket inside would be ready first thing in the morning and he could quit watching and start doing.

Tomorrow.

He just had to hold out a little longer, bide his time a few more hours. That’s what Colton told himself, but damned if he didn’t slide from behind the wheel and start across the street anyway.