Passion's Wicked Torment

by Melissa Hepburne

  “You’re crazy!” she declared.

  “Probably.” He had not intended to kiss her, she could see that in his eyes. The urge had simply come over him, irresistibly.

  “This is what you came to tell me? That you . . . love me?”

  “Babe,” he said, holding her tighter, “I do still love you. But it’s not what I came here for tonight. I came to tell you this: You’ve got to get away from Ironman. Your life is in danger by staying with him.”

  “Why? From what?”

  He looked as if he wanted to tell her more but was unable to do so. He frowned and pressed his lips together. There was no time to lose, for the band was winding down the dance tune, and couples were beginning to leave the floor. He held his silence.

  The song ended. Hunter began escorting her back toward Ironman, who was visible now, watching them. Hunter’s last words to her, before they came within hearing distance, were in a low, commanding voice. “Just do as I say. Get away from him. You’re in danger.”

  Then they were near Ironman and his crowd. Hunter released her arm, and she moved to Ironman’s side. Hunter grinned at Ironman and joked, “It was just like old times. She still can’t stand me.”

  The others around Ironman laughed, but Ironman’s face remained impassive. His eyes were smoldering. Kristin hooked her arm under his in a gesture meant to show him that she was still loyal, that there was no need for jealousy. The gesture failed.

  When Hunter started to leave, Ironman said in a gruff voice that was straining to remain under control, “Dallas, Riggio can’t collect the numbers bags tonight. He’s sick with the flu. You know the lakefront area. How’s about you picking them up?”

  “Sure,” said Hunter, shrugging amiably. Then he left.

  When the next dance began, Ironman took Kristin onto the floor and began dancing with her, bullishly, with no grace whatever. This was a sharp contrast to Hunter’s stylish smoothness. Ironman held her right hand in a vicelike grip, hurting her. She knew he was aware of it. And he had no intention of stopping.

  “What did he say to you?” he demanded.

  “Nothing important.”

  “What was it!” His tone was murderous.

  She winced at the pain. His powerful grip tightened on her right hand as he held her in a dance stance that,to everyone around, seemed perfectly natural and proper.

  “He said he’s glad he has nothing to do with me any more. I’m not his type.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Ironman, you’re so jealous! That’s why you don’t believe me. Why can’t you see the truth when it’s right in front of your eyes?”

  “In front of my eyes, huh? What truth is that?”

  “That I don’t care about Dallas Hunter at all.” “Good. Then you won’t care about me telling Teal to knock him off, will you?”

  Her breath caught, and she felt her heart skip a beat. When she spoke, it was slowly, hesitantly. “You told him to kill Dallas?”

  His face was mocking. “That’s right. Why should you care?”

  “Ironman, I don’t care a whit about him. But I . . . don’t like the idea of you killing him. It’s just that I . . . well, I don’t have anything against him. Don’t kill him, Ironman.”

  “What’s done is done. I already gave the order while you and Hunter were having such a grand time dancing. When he’s at the third bookie joint out on the wharf tonight, collecting the bookie takes like I told him to do, that’s when he’ll get it.” Ironman tried to make her look less sullen, to put a brighter aspect to it. “Don’t you see, doll? It’ll be much better for us this way. For you and me.” She lowered her eyes, but he raised her chin with his finger and made her look at him. He smiled. “I know I’m too damn jealous. Well, this will solve it. You see?”

  She wanted to try further to talk him out of it, but she saw that it would be no use. He would only become more suspicious about whether she still had deep feelings for Hunter. She said nothing for the remainder of the dance, and she made certain not to let her feelings show. When they returned to their table, where the party among Ironman’s cronies and hangers-on continued, she tried to excuse herself. Ironman held her arm tightly, though, telling her he enjoyed her company.

  She did finally manage to excuse herself later, to go to the powder room, but Ironman turned to Teal’s blowzy wife as Kristin was about to leave and asked, “You going to let my girl go off by herself? I thought dolls always liked powdering their noses in pairs?”

  “Sure, Ironman honey,” muttered Evelyn Teal, smiling. She had been drunkenly blowing into her husband’s ear. She rose to her feet, unsteadily, and took Kristin’s hand. Then she swung it back and forth as she led the way to the powder room, like two schoolgirls holding hands and skipping.

  Even if Evelyn Teal hadn’t accompanied her, Kristin did not know for sure what she could do. There was no way to contact Dallas before he reached the lakefront wharf. Her mind was in turmoil. What could she do?

  The turmoil intensified once they returned to the penthouse after the party. Ironman fell asleep almost the instant he hit the bed due to the massive amount of whiskey he had drunk. Kristin knew from experience that he would not awaken by himself after falling into such a drunken stupor, at least not until late in the morning. But did she dare leave him? Did she dare to go the wharf to try to warn Dallas?

  She was beside herself with anxiety and anguish. If she went and Ironman found out, it would probably mean her life. If she didn’t go, Dallas would die. And to make matters even worse, there was the question of Chad’s life too. She was so close to finding out where he was being held! The day after tomorrow Ironman planned to go to the place and to take her with him. Oh, he wouldn’t take her into the very room where Chad was held, but she would at least know where the building was so she could notify the federal authorities. But if she went to warn Dallas now, and if Ironman learned of it, she’d never be able to save Chad!

  Was it fair to risk Chad’s life in an attempt to warn Dallas, which might not even succeed? And she was so close, so close! Only another two days!

  She went out onto the veranda and looked down at the city below, muted and almost still under the cloak of chilly night. Her brow was knitted in a frown. What could she do?

  CHAPTER 15

  Dallas Hunter walked along the fogbound waterfront bordering Lake Michigan on his way to his third and final numbers pickup of the night. The numbers bags he was collecting held the receipts from the day’s betting. The air was so thick with fog that it seemed wet, and the planks of the walkway were soaked. They squeaked under his shoes. Streetlights glowed along the wharf, and when Hunter looked at them, he saw a misty blue halo enveloping the lights.

  His mind was not on his task, and because of this, he was not as cautious as he would usually be. He was preoccupied thinking about his meeting with Kristin earlier, at the ball. It had been so good seeing her again. And so hurtful to see her with Ironman, knowing what she allowed him to do to her each night.

  He had gone to the ball to warn her that she was in danger. Unfortunately, though, he didn’t think he had succeeded in convincing her. He couldn’t tell her the source of the danger or how he knew about it. That would blow his cover ... for she was still, after all, Ironman’s moll.

  She was in danger because the government anticrime people were getting ready to try a new tactic against Ironman, something that had never been done before. It involved bringing the tax authorities into the picture and trying to nail him on a federal tax evasion warrant. This was something totally untried. No hood had ever been sent to prison on tax evasion charges. Once the warrant was issued, though, Ironman would go crazy trying to protect himself against it. He would become surly, extremely suspicious, and vicious.

  Hunter knew from experience: When Ironman was facing a crisis, his most animalistic instincts took over, and he became dangerous to be around.

  If Kristin were near him then, there was no telling what might happen to her. Ironman not o
nly became sadistically mean at times like these, but he became paranoid about whom he could trust, and he invariably turned on those closest to him.

  As Hunter moved toward the glowing, lighted window of the storefront that was his last numbers pickup, his mind was still on Kristin. He would try to find some way to see her again, to warn her. He hurried his pace now, anxious to get this pickup over with. He had felt uneasy about it all along. It was unusual for Ironman to send one of his key lieutenants on a routine bag job like this. Well, thought Hunter ruefully, it was probably just Ironman’s way of showing him how much in disfavor he was after dancing with Kristin tonight. As if he didn’t already know.

  Hunter was almost to the door, ready to rap on it, when he saw a swift movement at his left. He jerked around in that direction, ready to draw and fire. But it was a familiar figure he saw rushing at him, and then she was there, next to him.

  “Dallas!” she cried, putting her hands to his arms. “It’s a setup! They’re waiting for you! It’s Teal and—”

  Just as she said this, the door burst open, and Teal and Montgomery rushed out. They had heard Kristin call Hunter’s name. Both men had drawn weapons. Hunter lunged at the men, knocking them down. A scuffle ensued. A shot was fired.

  Kristin saw Teal break away, stagger, then fall down. He did not get up. Farther down the wharf she heard voices, as shopkeepers awakened and peered out of their shops at the sound of the gunshot. The lakefront bums became active. No one approached them, though, fearful of becoming an accidental target. A few forms hung back in the mist.

  Kristin watched Hunter on the ground with Montgomery as they continued to fight. They were swinging,kicking and smashing at each other in a wild, frantic free for all. After a long, exhausting scuffle the big man managed to pull his gun free and turn it toward Hunter’s stomach. But before he could fire there was the crack and flash of a gun that Hunter had drawn from his hidden shoulder holster, and Montgomery fell off to the side, dead. Hunter had shot him in. the neck. Teal was still unconscious a few feet down the wharf.

  Hunter stood up, panting to catch his breath. His clothes were disheveled, and his cheek was bloody. The left side of his mouth was puffy. His black hair hung down over his forehead. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She tried to draw her hand back. “I can’t go with you.”

  He looked at her hard. “What are you talking about?”

  “I have to go back.” Her voice was low so none of the figures farther down the wharf could hear her. It was hurried too. “I only came to warn you. But I can’t leave Ironman.” She saw Dallas’s perplexed expression and added, “Not until the day after tomorrow!” Her words were desperate and sounded like she was plead in.

  “Are you crazy? What happens then?”

  “I can’t tell you anything. I don’t want to talk to you about it. Just let me go! I have to go back! I have to!” His grip on her wrist was tight, and he did not ease up. His voice became harsh. “Kristin, I don’t want any more of this crap from you. You tell me straight, what the hell is going on? I won’t let you go back to Ironman. He’s a killer. When he finds out his trap was sprung before I got here, he’ll suspect you.”

  “He was sleeping when I left. If I get back before he wakes, he won’t even know I was gone.” This was not the place to talk, and both of them knew it. Their words were rushed, both intent upon their own purpose. Hunter began pulling her away with him, despite her resistance. But then, as they neared Teal, the injured man scrambled to his feet and began running away down the pier.

  “Hold it, Teal!” Hunter shouted.

  A shot rang out from within the blanket of fog, hitting a stump off to Hunter’s side. Hunter shoved Kristin away, behind the protection of the large trash bin. He ran down the wharf after the fleeing figure in the fog. The people who had come out of their doorways quickly disappeared back inside. Kristin knew why Hunter was pursuing Teal, rather than just letting him go. It was on her account. If word got back to Ironman that Kristin had betrayed him, he would stop at nothing to take revenge against her. Even death might be too good for her in Ironman’s perverse mind.

  Two shots rang out. There was a high-pitched scream—Teal’s—which quickly died away. Kristin ran out from behind the trash bin to go to Hunter to see if he was all right. But then, when she saw his figure come running swiftly back through the mist toward her, she pressed herself against one of the buildings on the side of the wharf. Hunter came clearly into view, his face grim, looking straight ahead. He did not see her as she stood on the side. She thanked God he was unhurt. He disappeared into the mist as he went past her on his way to where he had left her.

  She heard his voice calling to her, commanding her, “Hey! Come on, babe. Come on, damn it! Don’t play these games with me. I’m trying to save your life.”

  She remained plastered against the side of the building, several yards away. She couldn’t go to him. She couldn’t let him take her away and refuse to let her go back to Ironman. She was so close to finding Chad, to helping rescue him. Only two days more, that was all she needed.

  The wail of sirens cut through the night, distant at first, then becoming louder and closer. Hunter’s voice was filled not just with anger now, but with anguish, as he called out. “Damn it, babe! Damn it! Come to me.” There was such pain and concern for her in his voice that she almost ran out from her hiding place and went to him. She held herself back, though, biting her lip to keep from answering him. He turned and ran down the wharf as the squad cars pulled to a stop.

  The wharf filled up with people now, some from the shops, coming out now that it was safe. Uniformed policemen were moving quickly past the crowd and toward the bookie joint. Kristin drifted forward after a moment and blended into the throng of onlookers, her coat collar pulled up, her head ducked down. She was glad for the fog, which helped to disguise her. Quickly she moved off and disappeared down the wharf. When she was a block away, she hailed a taxi. She tried to make herself relax during the ride back, but it was impossible. Her heart beat furiously all the way back to Ironman’s hotel.

  When she had left the hotel earlier, she had taken the elevator straight down to the underground garage, avoiding the lobby. She could not reverse the process now, for anyone entering the hotel had to come through the lobby—a security precaution to keep out lock pickers and hustlers.

  Kristin climbed the single flight of stairs up from the garage, but did not enter the lobby. She opened the door slightly and peered out at the desk. Kanin, the young night manager, was on duty. She waited tensely for several minutes until he went into the back room to take something from his files. Then she hurried across the lobby and entered the main stairway. She was careful to keep out of sight of the waiting elevator, where the elderly operator sat on a stool inside, reading. She hurried up the flights of stairs to Ironman’s penthouse.

  She gave herself a moment to catch her breath as she stood outside his door. She fixed her hair. Instead of entering in her trench coat, she had a better idea. She took it off, bundled it up and stuffed it into the laundry chute near the elevator bank. Then, her heart still racing, she turned her key in the door lock and went in.

  The living room was just as she had left it. The lights were dim. She heard Ironman’s snoring from the bedroom. She removed her shoes and left them by the couch, then padded into the bedroom. A wave of relief washed over her as she saw that he was on his side, his eyes closed, just as she had left him. She quickly undressed and put on her nightgown, then got under the covers with him.

  Just as she was sighing heavily with relief and closing her eyes, she felt a painful slap on her cheek. She jerked her eyes open to find Ironman standing over her, his hand drawn back to slap her again. She raised her hands to protect herself. “You bitch!” Ironman roared. “You bitch!”

  “What are you talking about?” she cried, trying to scramble away from him.

  He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her toward him. His
eyes were on fire. “You think I don’t know where you were? You think I don’t get word when one of my bookie joints is hit?” He pointed. “That phone was ringing five seconds after the cops arrived.”

  “Ironman, I ... I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was out taking a walk. I couldn’t sleep, so I—”

  “So you warned your lover, Dallas Hunter! That’s what you did. I knew you two were going at it all along, behind my back.”

  “That’s not true!” She tried to run from him. But he flung her back against the wall. She slid down to the floor, terrified.

  “You’re going to pay,” Ironman declared, his face contorted with hate. “I’d kill you, but that’s too quick. I want you to suffer. I know what you hate worst of all. You were so relieved when Hunter rescued you from Rooney’s whoreship, were you? Well, it’s going to be like Hunter never existed for you, doll. You’re going right back to the same thing, only this time, it’ll be my operation, in my house in the Yukon—to face the roughest, toughest, most woman-starved goldminers in Canada.”

  “No,” she pleaded. “Don’t. . .

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t put me in a ... a whorehouse. I couldn’t stand it!” She was on the verge of breaking down. She almost lost control completely and screamed, What have you done with my brother! But, thank God, she had enough of her wits about her to stop from doing that. If he knew she was Chad’s sister, he’d torture her in Chad’s presence to make Chad tell him what he wanted to know.

  There was a knock at the door. Ironman was expecting it. He grabbed her wrist and pulled and dragged her across the carpet, through the living room, to the door. Kristin fought him every inch of the way. He opened the door, and the two men he had called earlier came in. One of them pulled a medicine bottle out of a satchel, and they forced her to drink down the pale pink liquid, holding her as she struggled, practically drowning her in it. Half the liquid went dribbling down her chin.