by Vella Day
She crawled into Brandon’s bed, wanting to make sure they noticed that she was back. The soft mattress, the familiar surroundings, and their spicy scent in the air, relaxed her enough so that sleep claimed her quickly.
Mac jerked awake. Seconds passed before she remembered she was no longer at her house, but back in Florida with her men. The glowing red numbers of the bedside clock read 4:12 a.m. Shit. She hadn’t meant to sleep so long. Her eyes worked well in the dark. Perhaps not as well as Brandon’s or Sam’s, but close. The bed was empty. Something was wrong. The men would have woken her up, wouldn’t they have?
She’d be upset if Brandon decided to sleep on the couch. To check, she grabbed her phone with the flashlight app and padded her way to the living room. He wasn’t on the sofa. Damn. To confirm her suspicion, she headed back to the bathroom. His electric toothbrush and razor weren’t where he kept them. That meant he’d left town. Crap. Had the Colters come after them, forcing him and Sam to leave? Whatever the reason, it wasn’t good.
Wait a minute. Her men wouldn’t have run. They must be hiding. Only where?
She had no idea, which meant she’d have to check out Medlock’s home with just Jay and Riley. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in quite some time. Having no idea how long she’d be doing surveillance, she’d better eat. Mac dragged her suitcase into the bathroom, changed, and then went to the kitchen. Even though no light would leak to the front, the kitchen had a large side window. Between the ice dispenser light, the display on the stove and microwave, and LED on the dishwasher, she could see quite well. She fixed a bowl of cereal and carried it out to the dining room table.
When she sat down, she spotted a roll of white paper on top. Curious what it was, she unrolled it. Faint blue lines, looking like a detailed drawing of something, covered it. She quickly picked it up and headed back to the safety of the bathroom. Spreading the paper out on the counter, her heart jammed into her throat. She recognized the structure even before her eye caught the heading.
“Holy shit.” It was a schematic of Roger Medlock’s house and the location of the alarms. Her heart beat so fast, her palms sweated. Her mind reeled as she studied the design. Something was off, though.
Mac dashed into the bedroom to get her computer. Once she returned, she brought up the outline of Medlock’s home from the property appraiser’s site. They didn’t match. That could only mean one thing. Medlock had a hidden room; or in this case, a suite of rooms. Excitement soared through her. While she wasn’t a security expert, it appeared as if the person who’d installed the alarm had no idea this part of the house existed. That meant, there was no direct access from the main house. Or was there? The drawing detailed the doors, and none existed into that back section. She had to assume there was hidden panel of some sort. It didn’t matter. Even if Mac could gain access through the house, it would take too long to find this passageway.
It would be getting light soon, and she wanted to sneak in Medlock’s house before he awoke. Mac quickly dressed, and then carefully rolled the schematic to make carrying it easier. After making sure the house was secure, she headed out. Keeping her headlights off until she exited the street, she drove to Jay’s. He’d know what to do.
If Paul Statler believed Jay dead, her cousin would also be keeping a low profile. She went past his house, not wanting anyone to notice she was near. Parking a block away, she turned off the overhead light before slipping out. She then cut in between houses to avoid detection. No cars sat in the drive, but that didn’t surprise her if Jay wanted the Colters to think he was dead.
If it weren’t for that neighborhood-awakening alarm, she would have picked the lock. With no back door, she was forced to tap on Jay’s bedroom window. Crap. Why wasn’t he answering? Had everyone associated with her fled town?
Duh. Jay mentioned he was a heavy sleeper.
Pounding and yelling would only rouse suspicion. A few of the homes on the street were already lit, indicating that a few people were up. Jay had jalousie-style windows, which were common in old Florida homes. She’d have to chastise him about his lack of security. These were too easy to break into. She opened the panes and called out to him again. When no snoring came from the room, she concluded he wasn’t home. There seemed no use to breaking in.
Now what? She didn’t know Riley, so tapping on his window might cause unwanted results. The first rays of daylight were appearing. Decision made. She’d go it alone. Her plan was to check out that extra space in Medlock’s house and consider options for getting in. Then she’d seek help from Jay later—or Sam and Brandon if she could ever find them.
Time was running out.
As much as she wanted to race to Medlock’s house, Mac kept to the speed limit. Concerned about a tail, she also took many detours. When she finally drove down the man’s street, she was confident no one had followed her. The for sale sign remained in front of the house two doors down, and Mac figured no one would care if she parked at the end of the drive.
Because of the lack of fencing around Medlock’s mansion, Mac decided to enter from the back. She ducked between two adjacent houses, moving quickly and effortlessly. She halted as she neared Medlock’s home. Her senses didn’t detect any werewolves roaming the property, but that didn’t mean there weren’t some inside. At the party, she’d spotted a building in back that she noticed some of the workers going in and out of. It might belong to the guards. Even though it was fairly dark, she didn’t dare peek in the window. She wasn’t here to get caught. That could cost her life and possibly those of her men.
Out of sight of any window, she placed her ear against the cement side, but she didn’t hear anyone stirring. That might mean they were asleep.
Keeping low, she moved liked a cat toward the side of the main house. It came as no surprise that the northwest side had no windows. To have them would defeat the purpose of a hidden room.
Determined to find a way in, she inched her way toward the front of the house. There, behind a shrub, sat a window, but it was too high to look out from the inside. Windows like that usually were in either closets or bathrooms. Taking a chance that no one was watching, she flashed her light on the window and spotted something strange—a lock on the outside.
“Bingo!” she whispered.
She surmised the exterior latch was to keep someone in. The problem was that Mac couldn’t pick the lock unless she could reach it. She had come merely to scope out possible entry points, but now that she was here, she couldn’t resist trying to break in. Once she got inside, she’d find Cheryl and help her escape. Her pulse soared at the possibility.
Because of the window’s location, she’d need a boost up. Think. On her way from the rear of the property, she’d passed a table and chair set by the back house. All she needed was the chair. How to get it without attracting attention was the problem. Werewolves had exceptional hearing. But she had to try.
Keeping low, she rushed to the back house. All lights were off, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t watching. Squatting, she duck-walked to the chair, making sure she was below the sight line of the window. When she reached the chair, it appeared to be metal and heavy, making any movement chancy.
Cheryl’s life was at stake. Mac was strong for a woman, but could she lift it from this position? She had to try. Very slowly, she tilted back the chair and dragged it onto her knees. In this very awkward position, she edged backward until she was out of view of the window. When no werewolves charged, she lifted the chair over her head and carried it back to the locked window on the main house.
Once at eye level, opening the lock was easy. She carefully lifted the sash and climbed in. Normally calm, her pulse was racing and her forehead, palms, and back were dripping from sweat. She told herself it was the high humidity and not her fear.
Mac was now standing in a tub in an empty bathroom. So far so good. The window didn’t want to remain open, so she wedged her lock pick kit under the sash. She couldn’t hear what was happening i
n the next room because of the blood pounding in her head, but she had to check it out.
The handle moved smoothly, hopefully preventing anyone from hearing her. When she pushed open the door, she appeared to be in a bedroom. Without any windows and no glow from a clock, she could barely see, even with her good eyes.
Please let the lump in the bed be Cheryl.
“Cheryl,” she called softly as she moved closer. When the person didn’t respond, Mac tiptoed to the side of the bed and tapped the person’s shoulder.
Now that Mac had basically announced her arrival, she had nothing to lose if she turned on a light. With a swipe of her finger on her cell phone, the room lit up and Mac’s heart jumped.
Cheryl sat up in bed, groggy and disoriented. She rubbed her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Cheryl. It’s me. Mac.”
Cheryl leaned over and flicked on the bedside lamp. Her eyes finally opened wide. “Mac! What are you doing here?” Instead of the excitement Mac expected, there was fear in her cousin’s voice. While Cheryl’s hair was a bit wild, she looked good—healthy in fact. The relief helped Mac focus.
“I came to rescue you. Come on.” By now, Mac’s pulse had slowed enough to recognize the footsteps in the house.
“I can’t leave.”
What? “Yes, you can. I opened the window. Come on.” A few shouts came from behind the wall. “We have to go. Now!”
“No. You don’t understand. You need to get out of here.”
Cheryl was either drugged or brainwashed. Clearly, she didn’t understand the severity of the situation. Mac ripped the covers off her cousin and dragged her to her feet. “It’s you who doesn’t understand. Medlock is evil.”
“I know. He’ll kill my parents and your mom if I escape or tell anyone.”
So that was what was keeping her here. She had to make her cousin see reason. “I have friends. They’ll take care of Roger Medlock. Don’t worry.”
Cheryl looked around. “What about my things?”
“Nothing’s more important than our lives. Come on. We have to go.” Mac didn’t wait for her cousin to argue. She grabbed her by the hand and led her to the bathroom. This time, Mac turned on the light. “Climb through the window. And then run.”
“Where?”
“I’ll be right behind you.” Mac lifted the window. “I’ll help you up. There’s a chair on the outside. Go.”
With Mac’s help, Cheryl climbed out. Just as Mac was partway through, the bathroom door banged open, and a strong hand grabbed her foot and yanked her back in.
Oh, fuck.
Chapter Thirty
Even after Cheryl’s feet hit the grass below, she had no idea where she was. It was dark, damp, and cold, and her thin nightgown wasn’t enough to keep her warm. Wrapping her arms around her body, she looked right then left, trying to figure out which way to go. Panic stole her breath. Was this smart? If she didn’t go back inside, Mr. Medlock would do as he threatened. Then again, she trusted Mac to do as she claimed.
Shouts came from the house in the back. They were looking for her. Decision made. She finally listened to that voice in her head that told her to run.
Her feet slipped on the wet grass and tears streamed down her cheeks, but deep inside, the need for freedom pushed her forward. As she neared the front of the house, streetlamps lit the way, but she wasn’t sure the best direction to go. The house across the street had lights on inside. If she knocked on that door and asked for asylum, would they let her in? Or would they escort her right back to their neighbor’s house? Roger Medlock might have made up some story about a mentally ill cousin staying with him. He could have warned all the neighbors about her attempts to escape.
Move!
Before she could take another step, a hand clamped over her mouth. Her fight instinct took over, and she elbowed the man in the gut. He grunted and pulled her closer to his chest. Her nightmare was happening all over again. She struggled, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on this guy. It was like she was in a straightjacket.
“I’m here to save you,” he whispered in her ear.
Seemed like a lot of people were telling her that, but why should she believe this guy? Was he one of the friends Mac mentioned?
Reality entered her fuzzy brain. Oh, no. Where was Mac? She was supposed to be right behind her. As Cheryl twisted around to find her cousin, the strong man lifted her up and ran with her down the road as if she didn’t weigh more than a large sack of flour. With his hand still over her mouth, she couldn’t yell at him to stop.
Another figure raced toward them. Was he here to help or harm? The man carrying her stopped and set her down. Even after her supposed savior removed his hand, her breaths came out so fast, she couldn’t even scream.
This new man grabbed her shoulders. “Cheryl? That really you? It’s Jay. Jay Wagner. I’m Kenzie’s cousin.” He lifted his head toward the streetlight to give her confirmation.
As she recognized her ally, the fight in her deflated. She swallowed hard to wet her mouth. “Jay? Oh, my God. Mac’s still in the house, I think.” If she’d escaped, her cousin would be here by now.
He slipped off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. “Kenzie’s here?”
“Yes. She came in through a window and saved me. She was supposed to follow me out, but I didn’t see her. She told me to run and I did.” A sob escaped.
Jay looked back at the house. “We’ll look for her. Right now, we need to get you to safety.” He looked down. “Where are your shoes?”
“I didn’t have time to put them on. Mac practically shoved me out the window.”
“Jay,” the other man said. “We’ve got company.”
In one quick move, Jay lifted her up in a fireman’s hold and ran down the sidewalk with her. A car door opened and he gently tossed her in the back seat. “Stay down.”
A second later, the car took off. “What about Mac? She’s still back there.”
The other man drove. Jay sat up front, but he twisted around in the seat to face her. “Tell me what happened.”
She still hadn’t pieced everything together. “I was asleep when Mac nudged me and said I had to leave. I told her I couldn’t because Medlock said he’d kill my parents and her mom if I didn’t do as he said.”
“Fuck. I’ll make a few calls. We’ll make sure nothing happens to them.”
Mac’s cousin sounded so sure of himself that she found herself relaxing for a moment. “You have to call someone and help get Mac out. She’s in there with all those men. They’ll kill her.”
Jay glanced at the driver but didn’t say anything, yet a moment later, the driver nodded.
What was that all about? Cheryl slipped low on the seat fearing they’d be stopped at any minute, and Roger and his men would drag her back to the house. Medlock had been relatively nice so far, but with her attempted escape, he’d not only carry out his threat, but he might let the guards have her.
The men discussed where they wanted to take her. In the end, they decided on some military base, which was fine by her. A general would have a lot of pull to keep her safe.
A short while later, the car stopped. Dawn was finally making an appearance, which meant she didn’t dare sit up.
Jay leaned over the back seat again. “What size shoe do you wear? And what’s your clothing size?”
It took a second for his question to sink in. “I wear a seven medium for shoes, and a size eight for my clothes. I think. I’ve lost weight lately.”
Not that Mr. Medlock hadn’t fed her. He had. She just had no appetite. The lack of natural light and the tedious work he had her do had made her mind dull.
The driver slipped out. She was glad Jay stayed. She wasn’t ready to be alone. Cheryl wanted to sit up, but until she was on that military base, she wasn’t going to chance being caught.
“We’re taking you to a man I report to. Kenzie’s boyfriends work for him, too.”
The word boyfriends didn’t compute. “What are you
talking about? Mac doesn’t have any boyfriends. She isn’t dating anyone.”
“You warm enough?”
Not really. Her feet were cold, but she’d survive. Thankfully, even in February, or maybe it was March, the air in Florida wasn’t freezing.
Wait. Why hadn’t he answered her question? Once she was on this base, she’d demand to know what the hell was going on.
A short while later, the other man returned and handed her a bag. “I did the best I could. I’m not used to buying female stuff.”
The man was nice. “Thanks.”
She opened the bag and pulled out a package of underpants, two jog bras, a couple of T-shirts, two pairs of yoga pants, socks, and sneakers. “They look fantastic.”
“You might want to wear the shoes at least,” Jay said. “If you want to put on anything else, we won’t look. Promise.” With that, he turned around.
Cheryl was cold, confused, and exhausted. She slipped down to the floor, between the back and front seat, and changed in the very cramped quarters. While the long sleeve T-shirt was baggy, she felt better being dressed. She sat back up on the seat, thinking it would be safe to do so. “Everything’s perfect. Thank you…”
“His name is Riley.”
“Thank you, Riley.” The driver waved but didn’t take his gaze off the road. “When are you going to send someone for Mac?” Cheryl still couldn’t get over how her cousin found her. And now Mac was trapped.
“That’s where we’re going now—to figure out the best and safest way to free her.”
“Oh.”
It made sense. Given that Mr. Medlock had so many men who worked for him, they could quickly defeat Jay and Riley if they just barged in. Bringing in the army would be the smartest move. “Do you think I can call my parents?” Not that she got along with them very well, but since she hadn’t called at Christmas, they’d be worried.
