Page 82 of Winning His Wager
And told them to bring guns. That they’d be needed.
She was terrified of what that meant. Will Vanderguard was a man on a mission.
But without a key—her best bet was going to have to be tohide.And wait for help. She just kept telling herself that help was coming. She just had to stay safe until Joel or Sage or Zach or any other cop out there came to find her.
Hide. No matter what.
Dylan made that happen the instant she saw a truck barreling down the driveway like the wheels were on fire.
65
“Damn,woman, do you never stop complaining? No wonder you haven’t gotten a man yet at your age, although you are kind of ugly, so that can be a reason. It’s that whole ugly soul thing you have going on,” Bruce Tyler said as he dragged her out the back of the house.
Abby just prayed he would let her go. He had hit her father again. And old Mr. Rutherford. Just slugged them, demanded they confess their sins. That it was their fault she was dead, that a woman named Sheila was dead. That the poor kid from Finley Creek was dead. That innocent women had almost died in Finley Creek. He’d shouted that her dad and Mr. Rutherford had deaths on their souls.
He'd sounded insane, fanatical. And he was so much younger, stronger than her father, even though he limped.
He had Fletcher’s and Martin’s faces, but older.
She would never forget that. And he was going on and on about Desmond and Desmond’s father and Desmond’s innocent half sisters and how they were paying for their father’s sins too. And yelling about Morris’s other son, Brenden.
Abby was just there as an afterthought. She had tried to run to the door. She could get to a car, get to help. Save her dad, even if he had done bad things for Morris Preston. Maybe Dylan’s dad would help him with the witness protection thing. They could all leave Masterson, have a brand-new kind of life. Get away.
Somehow.
Then Bruce was dragging her outside. Because Will was there. But that was Braelyn’s car and her brother looked half sick.
“Will! Will, help me! He has Daddy and Mr. Rutherford inside!”
Her brother dove for Bruce Tyler. Then they were fighting there on the ground.
“Abby, run! Get back to the car and get out of here! Go!”
For the first time ever, she did exactly what her brother told her to do.
Abby had to get help for her family. Somehow.
Before Bruce Tyler killed them all.
66
Abby was tryingto get to the car.
She almost betrayed her hiding place, but Dylan didn’t move. She didn’t trust Abby to be a source ofrescueat all. Not her. Mr. Vanderguard was inside, she’d heard Abby yell that, Will Vanderguard was right there, and Abby—she had to be involved or at least know more about what was going on in this town than she should.
Not like it mattered anyway. Bruce grabbed Abby and yanked her to the ground. “You aren’t going anywhere, sweetie pie. Not until you tell me what you know.”
“I told you! I don’t know where Desmond is! We broke up a long time ago!”
Bruce almost growled.
Dylan just kept her head down, where she hid behind a stack of old junk, farm equipment and a burn barrel or something. The entire property just looked like junk.
Bruce was back on his feet. Will was down. He wasn’t moving. Had Bruce killed him?
Dylan stayed where she was, grateful her coat was dark purple. But her hair—it was shining, even though the sun was almost fully down now. If Bruce looked too far to the right, he was going to see her.
She didn’t know what to do now. Will had the keys to the car.