Ben caught her arm as she passed him. “You felt it, too, didn’t you?”
Kate fought the urge to lean into him and sniff the musky scent of male. Four years was a long time to go without a man. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ben held her arm a moment longer, then let go. “You’re right. We should check on Lily.”
Kate hurried, no, ran for the open door, her heart racing, her breathing ragged. Just as she crossed the threshold into the open breezy, South Texas sunshine, a frightened scream made her racing heart stop.
“Lily!” Kate burst out onto the porch.
The sound of engines racing up the gravel driveway greeted her. A man wearing a do-rag over his head with a bandanna pulled up over his mouth and nose straddled a huge motorcycle in the middle of the yard, holding a doll by its hair. He laughed, the sound so evil it made Kate’s skin crawl.
“That’s Lily’s doll.” Kate flew off the porch and would have scratched the man’s eyes out if an arm hadn’t circled her waist and yanked her back.
“Go back to the house. Now,” Ben said into her ear, his voice tight around the command.
“But Lily—”
“Go.” He shoved her back behind him.
Kate hesitated.
The roar of engines rose to a crescendo. An army of bikes swarmed into the yard, stirring up dust where the grass had long since died.
Kate ran for the house. Before she could reach the porch, a motorcycle cut her off. There must have been twenty bikes racing around the yard in a tight circle, trapping Ben and Kate in the center. The dust rose in a cloud, choking visibility to everything beyond.
Beyond panic, long past frightened, Kate screamed into the smoke screen, “Where’s my child?”
Chapter Four
Ben had left his Glock on top of the refrigerator inside the house while they’d been working to unload the trailer. Now he wished he had it. Two unarmed people against a biker gang weren’t good odds in anyone’s experience.
A rider broke the ring, circled the pair and then swerved toward Kate.
Fear for her spiked his adrenaline and he lunged toward the motorcyclist. Grabbing the closest handlebar, Ben twisted it hard toward the man astride. The sharp turn on the forward-moving bike caused the bike to flip over, rider and all.
Ben snagged Kate’s hand and pulled her closer to him into the center of the circle.
The man he’d toppled pulled himself out of the dirt, his face bleeding from where he’d crashed into the gravel drive. He glared at Ben and Kate and roared, veins popping out on his forehead.
Kate shrank against Ben. “Oh, God.”
They had nowhere to go; the ring of motorcycles tightened. The man with the doll eased toward them, dark eyes glaring through the slit between his do-rag and bandanna. “You need to leave, lady, before it’s too late.” He ripped the head off the doll and flung it at Kate’s feet.
Kate reached for the doll, but Ben held her back. “When I make my move…run toward the house,” he said into her ear. Anger surged and Ben threw himself at the lead man, knocking him out of his seat.
Kate ran.
Ben got one good, hard punch at the man’s face before two goons ditched their rides and jerked him off their leader. Caught between two beefy Hispanic men, Ben struggled, twisting and kicking, determined to keep their attention long enough for Kate to escape.
Ben jabbed an elbow into the gut of the guy on his right.
The man loosened his hold.
Ben ducked beneath his arm. No sooner had he shaken free from his captors’ hold than he was slammed to the ground from behind, a bull of a man hitting him low and hard.
The wind knocked from his lungs, Ben lay facedown in the dirt, willing his body to move. A foot in the middle of his back kept him from doing anything, especially refilling his starving lungs.
Kate screamed.
A shot of determination rocketed through Ben. He rolled onto his back; at the same time he grabbed the man’s leg who’d planted his heavy boot into his back. With a hard twist, he sent the thug flying backward, landing hard on his butt.
Two more men grabbed him, hauled him up and yanked his arms behind him, hard enough that spasms of pain ripped through his shoulders.
The leader lumbered to his feet and stalked toward Ben. He hit him with a hard-knuckled fist, square in the jaw. Ben’s head jerked back, hazy gray fog encroaching on his vision. Another punch to his gut would have had him doubling over, if he didn’t have two big guys holding him up.
Through the torture, his gaze panned the yard, searching for Kate and Lily.
The bikers had broken the circle and raced around the yard, running over bushes, ramming into a rose trellis. One drove up onto the porch and ripped the porch swing from its hooks.
Another cut off Kate’s attempt to get to the house.
Kate shot a glance over her shoulder and dodged to the left.
The biker sped past her and spun to renew his attack.
Ben planted his feet in the dirt and struggled, twisting and turning in an attempt to go to Kate’s rescue, his mind conjuring his wife’s last minutes on the earth, fighting to protect their daughter.
Then, he hadn’t been there to help Julia. His job now was to protect Kate. If only he’d been more vigilant and not lulled into believing danger wouldn’t strike during the daylight hours.
Hell, the fight wasn’t over.
The gang leader swung again.
Ben jerked to the side hard enough that the guy on his left tripped. The leader’s blow hit his own man in the cheekbone. The man yelled and grabbed his face with both hands, letting go of Ben.
Using the weight of the other man’s body, Ben rolled into him and sent him flying over his shoulder.
Kate ran toward the road.
The biker who’d missed her straightened his bike and hit the gas. The back tire spun, then gripped the ground and shot forward.
Ben came at him sideways, plowing into the biker.
The bike and rider rolled over to the side, the rider moving sluggishly in the dirt.
One down, nineteen to go.
Kate ran on, but another bike raced after her.
Ben wouldn’t catch up before the biker reached her.
A loud air horn broke through the roar of racing motorcycle engines, followed by a cloud of dust storming toward them on the gravel drive leading to the highway. Another air horn burst and a truck swerved around Kate, aiming straight for the biker in pursuit of the fleeing woman.
A shotgun’s nose poked out of the passenger window and blasted a hole in the ground in front of the bike tire. As a result, the biker spun so fast, the back wheel whirled all the way around and out from under the rider.
The gang members Ben had thrown off caught up to him and knocked him to the ground. He came up spitting dirt and ready to tear into them. He swung again and again, pummeling one man in the face. When that one went down, he kicked out and sent the other sprawling on his backside.
Another shot rang out, peppering bird shot at the gang members.
One man yelped and sent his bike skittering out of the shooter’s range.
The leader of the gang yelled something and circled his hand in the air, then pointed to