No Chance

by Christy Reece

  Gabe shut those dark memories down. The art of pain avoidance was an acquired skill … one he’d learned a long time ago.

  A polite mask of indifference firmly in place, she took a step toward him. “I’m ready when you are.”

  “We’ve got some time. I ordered breakfast.”

  “Thanks. I’m not hungry.”

  “Tough. You’re going to eat anyway.”

  “You can’t make me eat, Gabe.”

  “Stop acting like a child. You’ll make yourself sick if you don’t eat.”

  That mutinous look tightened her mouth once more, but she nodded. Before he could say anything else, someone knocked on the door.

  Gabe pulled his gun and said quietly, “Go to the bathroom and shut the door. Don’t come out until I tell you to.”

  Her eyes widened at the gun but she thankfully didn’t argue. He waited until she had closed the door.

  Gabe stalked to the door and looked through the peephole. Room service. Keeping his gun behind him, he unlocked the door. Before the young man could push the food trolley in, Gabe slammed a twenty into his hand and said, “I’ll take it.” He grabbed the cart and shut the door.

  “Skye,” Gabe called.

  She came back into the room, her eyes darting immediately to the gun he slid back into his ankle holster. “You’re very comfortable with guns, aren’t you?”

  “Stupid to have one and not be.”

  Taking the tray of food from the cart, he lifted the dome and took an appreciative sniff. Then he poured two cups of coffee, pulled out a chair for Skye, and looked at her. “Come eat.”

  Her face a study in the myriad of questions she obviously wanted to ask, Skye sat down, placed the napkin on her lap, and took a sip of the coffee. If she wanted to question him while she ate, that was fine. Years ago, she’d been soft, curvy. Now she was so slender, a good stiff wind would knock her down. And since he’d rescued her, she hadn’t eaten enough to keep a baby alive.

  “Eat and we’ll talk.”

  Widened eyes revealed her surprise. “You’ll answer my questions?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t have any secrets.”

  She snorted softly. “You work for an agency filled with secrets.”

  “LCR has to keep secrets to save lives.” He shrugged. “I don’t have any. Ask away.”

  “When did you start working with LCR?”

  “I started about a year after I left the island.”

  “How did you get started?”

  “How’re your eggs?”

  “What?”

  “Clean your plate and ask me anything you want.”

  “That’s blackmail.”

  “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

  She scooped up a forkful of eggs and put it in her mouth. As she chewed, she shot him a look that would have had him laughing if there was anything left to laugh at.

  Satisfied to see her eating, Gabe said, “I heard about LCR from the people who helped secure my release. They’d worked with them before. I contacted Noah, interviewed with him, and then he hired me.”

  “So you’ve been with them for over seven years now?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about your family?”

  Gabe stiffened. Okay, so maybe a few areas were offlimits. Talking about his family wasn’t something he did very often. Actually not at all, except eight years ago with Skye.

  “I don’t have a family, Skye. You know that.”

  “Is your stepmother gone?”

  “No. As far as I know, she’s still alive.”

  “Then she’s still your family. Why haven’t you gone to see her? Remember, we talked about it?”

  “I never went back to see her.”

  “Why not?”

  “She has another life. She married again, has other children. She didn’t need me bringing back bad memories.”

  “They weren’t all bad, Gabe.”

  Hell, he thought she was going to talk about his job. Not his past. She knew it all anyway. What was the point in talking more about it?

  “There’s a reason memories are in the past, Skye. They have no relationship to the here and now.”

  “Don’t you think she’d like to know how you are?” When he didn’t answer, she leaned forward to catch his gaze. “She raised you from the time you were four. You were her child.”

  Gabe stood. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

  “You need to stop blaming yourself for living, Gabe. The mining accident wasn’t your fault. Do you think your father or stepbrother would have wanted you to carry that burden?”

  “You haven’t seen me in eight years, Skylar. And we knew each other barely three weeks, most of which was spent doing things that didn’t require talking. So don’t try to psychoanalyze me. You don’t know me.”

  Skylar watched Gabe fight every human emotion he had. Sometimes she wondered if those who felt too deeply were the ones who, when hurt, shut down their emotions even tighter than others.

  Just in the few weeks they were together, she’d recognized that Gabe had deep-seated core values of loyalty, honor, and devotion to family. However, his experiences had severely bruised those beliefs.

  Funny. Even eight years later, she still felt such a connection to Gabe, and such a deep understanding of him. Not that he’d allow her to get that close ever again. It had taken her two weeks to get him to share his deepest thoughts.

  But almost from the minute she’d met him, she’d lied to him, betrayed him. Was it any wonder he didn’t trust anyone?

  Gabe might be surprised to know that other than that one small bit of information, everything else had been the truth. She’d never been able to share her deepest feelings, her true self, with anyone until Gabe. She’d kept her fame out of their conversation deliberately, but not for the reasons he probably believed.

  “Did you ever wonder why I didn’t tell you who I was?”

  The loosening of his granite-hard jaw told her he was relieved that she’d dropped the subject of his stepmother. She would revisit it at some point, but not now.

  He took a long swallow of coffee. “I figured you told me what you wanted me to know.”

  “That’s not it, at all, Gabe. I—”

  She stopped abruptly when he rose from his chair and pressed a finger to his mouth for her to be quiet. He went quietly to the door and looked in the peephole. The relaxing of his shoulders indicated there was no danger.

  He cracked opened the door and asked, “When’d you get back?”

  Skylar heard a man’s deep voice answer, “Just got in. I’m flying with you.”

  Gabe backed away and Skylar watched a man come through the door. Reasoning that he was also an LCR operative, she immediately wondered if LCR had certain requirements about hiring tall, dark, and handsome men. This man, though more muscular than most male models, had the bone structure and good looks to be on the cover of any top magazine.

  She watched as Gabe and the stranger spoke quietly to each other. Though the stranger might look more like the eye candy she was used to seeing in her world, she greatly preferred Gabe’s rugged masculinity. There was just something about Gabe that caused all sorts of flutters inside her. It had happened the moment she met him, and now, eight years later, those flutters had been rekindled and seemed stronger than ever.

  “Skye, this is Cole Mathison.”

  Skylar stood and held out her hand. “You’re with LCR also?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Skylar couldn’t prevent a smile at his beautiful Texas drawl. “What part of Texas are you from?”

  “I’ve lived in most of the major cities, ma’am.”

  “Call me Skylar.”

  Cole Mathison gave a brief nod and looked at Gabe. “You about ready?”

  Gabe turned those piercing eyes on her and then looked at her still-full plate. “You hardly ate anything.”

  “I’ll eat when I get home.”

  “This is a private jet. We�
�ll get you some food there.”

  What was the big deal about her eating?

  Cole glanced around the room. “You have luggage?”

  Skylar shook her head. “No. Just the things Gabe gave me yesterday.”

  “I’ll bring the car to the back entrance.”

  She waited until Cole walked out the door, and then asked, “What’s the deal with all this secrecy? We’re thousands of miles away from the creep who had me.”

  “Doesn’t hurt to be careful. Besides, you’re known all over the world, not just New York. I figured you’d want to avoid any press until you got home.”

  He was right about that. She shuddered at the thought of having reporters ask questions about her bruises and how she got them.

  “I’ll wait for you in the hallway,” Gabe said.

  Skylar watched him leave the room and felt an enormous sense of loss. Great, he was right outside the door and she already missed him. How was she going to feel when he left for good?

  Sighing, she began to gather up the few garments and toiletries she had been given. That was a thought she didn’t even want to contemplate right now. The most important thing was to find Kendra. Then she’d worry about what she would do for the rest of her life knowing that Gabe was still in this world but didn’t want to be part of hers.

  twelve

  “Lick your lips like you can’t wait to taste it.”

  Her mouth dehydrated from fear and lack of water, the best Kendra could manage was a sweep of her dry tongue over her even drier mouth. Maybe if her lips didn’t glisten enough, they’d take her out and shoot her. Which would be a hell of a lot better than what she had endured since she’d been here.

  “Come on, baby. You can do better than that. Remember, this is what you wanted … to be a model. So do it already.” The photographer from hell, her current torturer, turned around and shouted, “Get me some Vaseline. Her lips are all dried and cracked.”

  Kendra stiffened as he approached her with a jar of petroleum jelly. She had two choices. Let the bastard touch her, which meant giving him enjoyment, or comply and put it on herself. She didn’t want to obey these perverts in anything, but she couldn’t bear having this creep’s hands on her again.

  Slicked-back hair matched the slimy look in his eyes; his expression told her he knew exactly what she was thinking as he held the jar out to her. “I’ll be glad to stick it in every opening you’ve got. Your choice.”

  Kendra grabbed the jar from his hands, careful not to touch him. With a grin, he backed away.

  Her trembling finger barely touched the jelly, then she touched her lips. They were dry and chapped just as he said. Going days with almost no water or food would do that to a person. Not that they gave a shit.

  “Now, let’s see those pretty lips pucker up. Think of that steak dinner we promised you tonight.”

  As he knew it would, her mouth began to water. She’d had only the barest amount of food for days. The thought of eating a full meal filled her entire being with excitement.

  “Oh, baby, yeah. You want that steak real bad, don’t you?”

  The flash of his camera startled her. Dammit, she’d been thinking about food and he’d gotten the shot he wanted.

  “Okay, let’s try it with a little less clothes on. Pull your panties off and show us just a little muff. Like those pictures I showed you of the other girls.”

  The allure of the fantasy meal vanished under a wave of nausea. He’d made her look at picture after picture of provocative photographs. Young, scantily clad women showing off various body parts, and all the girls had one major thing in common—their eyes had been glazed with drugs. If she didn’t comply, these creeps would do the same thing to her.

  “Get that look off your face or we’ll have to bring in someone to convince you.”

  Kendra shuddered at his reminder that they could do much worse than shoot her with drugs. What she had witnessed yesterday went beyond any kind of torture she could imagine.

  Biting her lips to keep from crying, Kendra pulled off her panties. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend she was somewhere else. Anywhere that she wasn’t being kept captive by crazy people who said and did hideous things for their own amusement.

  “Okay, love. On your back. One leg up, the other bent sideways.”

  Fighting tears, Kendra arranged her legs so she could show the pervert just enough to satisfy him.

  After several flashes, he put his camera down and smiled. “You can relax now. That should be enough to satisfy him.”

  This wasn’t the first time another man had been mentioned. She’d learned to hold her tongue, though. After having been forced to watch the beating and rape of a young girl, she knew not to say anything. The girl’s eyes had been filled with pain, fear, and accusation.

  Kendra had screamed for them to stop. Kicked, punched, and bit at them. She’d fought for the girl and for herself. She’d lost. When it was over, she’d been told that if she ever questioned anyone or fought them again, the punishment would be worse, much worse.

  Kendra believed them.

  Stretching his long legs out in front of him, Cole settled into the leather seat of the private jet, prepared to be entertained. The coming attractions had already been fascinating. Watching both Gabe and Skylar pretend they weren’t completely aware of each other was a study in subtlety.

  As soon as they’d boarded the plane, Gabe had held a long conversation with the flight attendant. Cole had wondered about that. Gabe wasn’t the type to initiate conversation with anyone unless he was asking questions about a case. Skylar had tried to pretend she hadn’t cared that her husband seemed to be chatting up the attractive attendant, but Cole had seen the tightening of her mouth. She’d cared a lot.

  Then, as soon as the plane leveled out, Cole figured out what Gabe had been doing. A steaming plate of fluffy eggs, along with toast, orange juice, and coffee, was delivered to Skylar. It had been nothing more than Gabe taking care of his wife.

  Cole felt a slight movement of his mouth and put his fingers to his lips. After almost a year of having no emotions at all, he was still surprised when they occurred.

  “Something amusing?” Gabe asked.

  Cole felt his mouth tilt upward even more but resisted the urge to feel the change. Instead he shrugged at his friend. “Just nice to see you turn your attention to someone else for a change.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ve been big-brothering me since we’ve been working together. Good to see you use those skills on someone else.”

  Gabe snorted. “You’re the one who walked into that mansion without a weapon, ready to kick ass.”

  “I don’t need a weapon to kiss ass.”

  “No, but when somebody’s shooting at you, kicking bullets doesn’t work.”

  “Bastard wasn’t there anyway.”

  “We’ll get him.”

  Cole turned his head and stared blindly out the window. Not getting the monster who’d created the drug that had almost destroyed him wasn’t something he dared contemplate. Though he would never be able to atone for what he had done while under the influence of the drug, he would damn well find the man who’d been responsible for making it. And he would pay.

  Forcing back the darkness, Cole turned back to Gabe. “Jeremiah James called Noah again. Threatened him if we didn’t produce Skylar soon.”

  Gabe snorted again. Before he could say anything, Skylar spoke up. “I hope he didn’t cause problems for Noah.”

  “McCall can take care of himself,” Gabe said.

  Skylar looked down at the food she’d been pushing around on her plate, her expression one of deep thought. Then she gave Gabe a sideways, wary glance. “We haven’t really talked about my father … what we’re going to say to him.”

  “You mean before or after I beat the shit out of him?” Gabe asked.

  “Stop it, Gabe. He hurt both of us, but I want to hear his explanation.”

  “Now, just
what kind of explanation do you think he’s going to give, princess?”

  Her eyes flashed. “Stop calling me ‘princess.’”

  Gabe turned away to look out the window and Skylar continued to play with her food. Cole slouched deeper into his seat, crossed his arms, and enjoyed the main event.

  “There’s got to be more to this than him lying. I mean, what if either one of us wanted to get married again?”

  “I’m sure with your daddy’s money, he could have bought off some judges. Better yet, maybe he could’ve had me killed. Gotten rid of me altogether.”

  “My father’s not like that.”

  “Your father’s a whole lot more capable of things like that than you think. How can you keep defending the man?”

  “Because he’s my father.”

  “Oh, and that makes what he did all right?”

  “Of course it doesn’t.”

  Tears flooded her eyes and Cole checked his impulse to comfort her. It wasn’t his place … she wasn’t his wife. But judging by Gabe’s hard, stubborn expression, he wasn’t going to do anything about it either.

  “Excuse me.” Cole stood and stalked down the aisle to the bathroom. He pulled tissues from a box on the counter and then, because he knew Gabe so well, changed his mind and picked up the entire box.

  Cole returned to see Skylar rummaging through her purse and Gabe’s granite jaw even harder.

  “Here.” Cole handed the box to Skylar. “I brought you the box. From the looks of it, you’re going to need it.”

  Skylar thanked him with a small smile and Gabe glared.

  Cole returned to his seat. It’d been a long while, a very long while, since he’d felt any kind of enjoyment. Though this case was as serious as they came—rescuing a young girl—he found himself looking forward to the future fireworks that were apparently going to happen often between Gabe Maddox and his beautiful wife.

  New York City

  Gabe took another glance at Skye before they got out of the taxi. It was a little before midnight and since no one other than Jeremiah James knew they were coming, their arrival should go unnoticed. Just in case a stray photographer or reporter was hanging out, he’d given her sunglasses and a scarf to put over her head. He didn’t figure she was ready to answer questions about him or the bruises she still wore on her face.