Ignoring her query, he started the engine and drove slowly away from the apartments.
Maybe once she was far enough from the building to ensure Robbie’s safety she could find a way to escape. Could she crash the car? Signal someone? Dive into the passenger seat and jump out the door?
“Whatever you’re getting paid, I can top it,” she said.
He glanced at her in the rearview, but said nothing. His silence and lack of expression were serial-killer creepy.
“Or I could…” She tilted her shoulders and tried to look as if she wouldn’t puke if he touched her. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I could…be with you.” The last word came out strangled.
He scoffed and shook his head.
Who did he work for that inspired such loyalty? Not that she’d trust the guy not to double-cross her if he accepted either offer, but she’d thought either scheme might provide an opportunity to escape.
He hadn’t killed her right away, so someone must want her alive, even if just long enough to get her to a quiet place to do the deed. Though honestly, the street had been quiet enough for him to kidnap her. Why not just shoot her there and be done with it?
A lump of concrete settled in her belly and her throat constricted.
I don’t want to die.
All of this mess because she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time… Hell, was it only six days ago? So much had changed since that morning; it felt more like months. On the heels of losing Emily, Tara’s world had turned to chaos. Mars had been found dead, someone had tried to kill Tara several times, Jeff had been reunited with Evan.
Tara had fallen in love.
Pulling back from that unsafe territory, she pored over her memories of the unfortunate encounter that had triggered it all. Who was this woman who seemed to want her dead so badly anyway? Had the blonde even killed the reporter, or was something else going on?
The temptation to rail at the unfairness of the world, to cry “why me?” was overwhelming, but it wouldn’t do her any favors. She was in this situation regardless. It was up to her to figure a way out. No one was going to save her this time. None of the men from Steele—not even Jeff—could ride to her rescue.
A sob escaped before she could stop it. Jeff. If she had told him she loved him, would it have scared him away, or would he have tried to convince her to stay?
Did he love her?
Maybe it didn’t matter. Evan came first. Always. As he should.
Before, she’d been willing to accept that Jeff had no room in his life for a romantic relationship. Maybe part of her had believed he would eventually change his mind. Or that with time, she could convince him they belonged together.
But if given a second chance, she wouldn’t let him push her away completely. They were good together. They needed each other. She needed him. He saw her as more than a pretty face, more than the team mom.
She wanted time to explore their relationship. To see if they had a chance at something lasting.
A chance she would never have if she didn’t escape.
Would Jeff suspect something was up and call the police or someone to check on her, or had her imitator’s text been convincing enough? She hadn’t heard any message notifications, so he hadn’t responded yet. If he tried her again later and she didn’t answer, would he think she didn’t want to argue about her plan, or would he suspect she was in trouble?
Neither option sat well with her. He had enough to worry about.
At least now she knew without a doubt that someone was still after her. She nearly laughed. Small consolation when they’d gotten the drop on her again, rather than the other way around, as she’d hoped.
Taking several deep breaths, Tara forced herself to pay attention to everything happening inside the car and out. Within minutes, the car was on the Coastal Highway, heading back the way she’d come early this morning from Wilmington. The views were better in the daylight, but she couldn’t appreciate them.
“Where are we going?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.
She didn’t get one.
Bile rose in Jeff’s throat as he watched Tank’s beefy fingers tapping out a message to Dad.
“There. Now Dear Old Dad thinks you’re on a booty call.”
Would he really? After how adamant Jeff had been that he not leave Evan? And yet, the minute Tara had texted, Jeff had abandoned the room without explaining about the danger. He hadn’t wanted his dad to worry, but now he could kick himself.
But his dad was no dummy. He knew what Jeff and Tara had gone through this weekend. He knew how strongly Jeff felt about not leaving Evan. And he’d know it was out of character for Jeff to just take off without saying anything to either him or Evan.
Wouldn’t he?
Shit. Come on, Dad.
“Why bother?” Jeff asked. For some reason this man didn’t want him dead yet. Were they trying to get him and Tara together to stage some kind of accident? “If I don’t return tonight, he’ll get suspicious.”
“Won’t matter,” Tank said, pocketing Jeff’s phone and gesturing him toward the parking lot with the gun. “Let’s go.”
Won’t matter? Five minutes later, Jeff’s hands and feet were bound with multiple metal-reinforced zip ties and he sat in the front passenger seat of his own RV while Tank drove up 3rd Street. He wouldn’t be able to break these zip ties against his pelvis like Tara had done earlier.
He wracked his brain for a way out, but until he knew that there was no threat to his son, he’d wait. Besides, if he found a way out of this that kept Evan safe—Tank dead or arrested were the only options that made sense—he couldn’t leave Tara to whatever fate they’d planned.
No, he’d wait.
With luck, Evan would sleep through his absence, none the wiser. Actually, he’d need every ounce of luck he could muster to return to his son at all.
His chest tightened. God, Evan. The boy had been through so much, he didn’t deserve to be abandoned by Jeff too. Dad would step in, but the kid would always be waiting for him to leave. Jeff needed to show Evan that not everyone left or died. He needed Evan to know that he loved him as much as he’d promised.
I will get back to you.
Within minutes, they’d parked behind a seven- or eight-story building on the Cape Fear River that was part of a popular three-star hotel chain, but Tank made no move to go in.
“Might as well get comfortable,” the big man said. “We’ll be here awhile.”
If Tara really was on her way, depending on traffic, it could be upwards of two hours. Was she okay? Had she been hurt? Jeff’s blood boiled. If anyone touched her— Fool. He’d what? He tugged uselessly at the restraints on his wrists and ankles. He’d do nothing unless he got free, and he couldn’t risk that until he knew Tara was alive and there was no ongoing danger to Evan.
He tried unsuccessfully to distract himself from the situation by watching planes take off and land from the nearby airport as thoughts of Evan and Dad and Tara swirled in his brain. His biggest regret—if he ended up dead today—was that he didn’t know if any of them knew he loved them.
How had a woman who’d been nothing more than an unattainably attractive acquaintance become one of the most important people in his life in a few short days?
Maybe he’d been half in love with her from the start. Or at least the idea of her. He’d been drawn to her brightness and beauty and intelligence, without understanding that she was so much more beneath the dazzle. She was loyal and compassionate and good with people. She was fierce and adaptable and kept her cool under stress. He’d been drawn to her without understanding that, despite his misgivings, she was the puzzle piece that completed his heart.
Had his dad been right? Could he find a way to have both Evan and Tara in his life? Assuming he came out of this with a life at all. Fuck. He shouldn’t have wasted a minute with her. He should have taken the chance, told her he loved her, and asked her to be part of his and Evan’s lives.
He
would not fail to do it again. Not if he got another chance.
Now he had to figure out how to make it happen.
The man next to him was the key. Tank’s knee bounced beneath the steering wheel as he toyed with his cell phone.
“I’m guessing you don’t have kids,” Jeff said.
Tank scoffed. “What makes you say that?”
“I just figured if you had children of your own you wouldn’t be so willing to threaten mine.” As if that had ever stopped someone from being a monster.
The big man shifted in his seat, but didn’t take his eyes off his phone.
Jeff catalogued everything about the man from his slightly receding brown hair and pale blue eyes to the combat boots on his massive feet. He was several inches taller than Jeff and well north of two-fifty, mostly muscle. He’d probably been a lineman for his high school football team, but he must not have gone on to college ball, or why would he be playing enforcer ten years later?
“My son is four,” Jeff said. Somewhere he’d read that if you humanized yourself to your captors you had a better chance of survival. It probably depended greatly on the abductor’s motivations and constitution, but what the hell else did he have to do right now except wait? “He was recently taken hostage and injured by the same man who murdered his mother. That’s why he’s in the hospital.”
Tank didn’t say anything, but his gaze shifted out the window.
“It’s been a tough week—hell, a tough year—but he’s still the sweetest kid you ever met. He loves Spider-Man, and wants a puppy, and has the biggest, best smile. He’s still learning to chew with his mouth closed, and he can pack away food like you wouldn’t believe.” Jeff’s breath turned to clay in his throat. Oh, God. He didn’t want to leave Evan alone. “It’s going to kill him if I don’t come back—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Tank’s gaze knifed him. “I don’t give a shit about you or your brat. You can cry and blubber like a sissy all damn day if you want, but it won’t make a difference. None of it changes what’s going to happen.”
Jeff glared until Tank returned his attention to his phone.
“Besides,” the behemoth murmured. “I’m not going to kill you.”
That didn’t make sense. If they’d kidnapped Tara, they didn’t need Jeff as bait.
“Your fine-ass girlfriend’s going to do it for me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
TARA HARDLY NOTICED the scenery outside the window on the drive to Wilmington. She was too busy worrying about Jeff and Evan, Robbie and his parents, and even her own family. At least if she died, her parents would still have Lauren. The favorite.
And she knew that wasn’t totally fair, but there it was.
Besides, Jeff was her chief concern. And by extension, Evan.
About an hour into the drive, she was still trying to figure out a way to crash the car, or get the notice of someone who could call the police, when Ball Cap made a phone call. “You got him?”
Tara sat up, startled by his voice after the lengthy silence, her ears straining to hear everything. She couldn’t understand the reply, only its affirmative tone in a deep voice.
She swallowed hard. Was it Hulk from the parking garage? Did that mean he had Jeff? Shit. Escape would have to wait. Maybe once she and Jeff—assuming it was him—were together, they could figure out how to escape together.
BC glanced at her in the rearview mirror, his dark eyes giving away nothing. “Yep. No trouble.”
He listened for a second and then said, “We should be there in about twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes. What could she do to prepare in that time, besides psych herself up to face whatever was coming? BC hadn’t killed her immediately, so he needed her alive for some reason. To make her death look like an accident? Or…what? And if that were the case, why hadn’t he done it before now? There had been plenty of stretches along the highway that would’ve been perfect for a single-car accident.
But if they wanted her and Jeff to die together…
Her lungs seized up. How she wished she’d refused his offer of protection from the very beginning. She wouldn’t have fallen in love, but he wouldn’t be in danger because of her either.
She’d take the trade without question. He and Evan had been through enough.
Before she was ready, BC exited the freeway and soon turned into the back parking lot of a dingy chain motel along the river. Driving around the back, they parked beside a camper. Jeff sat in the passenger seat, looking through the window, his expression unreadable.
Their gazes connected and her stomach fell, even as her heart bounced with joy. She blinked back tears, her pulse tapping painfully at her throat.
She tore away her gaze as BC turned off the engine and circled to her side to open the door. “Try anything and we’ll kill him,” he said, his voice flat. Fucking business as usual.
Tara wanted to kick him in the head. Instead, she nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
He motioned her to unlatch her seatbelt and move toward him. Once her legs were through the door, he used a sharp pocketknife to slice cleanly through the tape around her ankles. “Stand.”
He reached for her as if expecting her to falter, but she locked her knees and raised her chin.
Giving her a dead stare, he studied her for a beat before pointing to the RV. “Walk.”
He glanced around the near-empty parking lot and then followed her. Before she reached it, the door opened to reveal Hulk.
Shit. The odds had been high, but still, she’d held out hope that he’d somehow died in a fiery crash.
“Don’t worry,” Hulk said, his voice rough as sand and ripe with cruelty. “This won’t take long.”
Her limbs turned cold. If she entered the camper would she come out alive? She looked toward the hotel. There was no one nearby, no one paying any attention to this deadly march.
“Get inside.” BC nudged her in the spine with something hard.
Wincing, she mounted the steps and entered the RV near the back, trudging forward as he prodded her toward the cab, shutting the door behind them.
“How do you want to do this?” he asked Hulk.
Tara struggled to breathe, her brain racing. Was there anything in the kitchenette she could use? It appeared to be just the four of them in the motor home, but her hands were literally tied. Well, taped. In front of her, but still bound.
The massive goon grabbed Jeff’s arm and jerked him to his feet. “Get on the couch.”
Not meeting her gaze, Jeff bent low to avoid hitting his head on the overhead loft. Stepping into the narrow walkway, he straightened to his full height and shuffled toward the sofa where they’d made love just last night. His ankles were loosely roped together with heavy-duty zip ties that allowed barely enough room for him to take short steps. His hands were bound behind his back. In the tight space, his body brushed against hers as he passed. He slowed imperceptibly at the contact.
She gasped, her body crying out with the need to touch, to hold, to kiss.
She had to find a way out for them both. Think, Tara, think.
“I love you,” she whispered. What did she have to lose?
He faced her, his brown eyes bleak. “I love you too.”
He did? Her vision blurred. “I’m sorry.”
Leaning in, he kissed her hard. His belt buckle dug into her wrists, but she couldn’t care less. At least they’d both die knowing they were loved, the taste of the other on their lips.
“Enough.” Jeff was yanked away.
Tara blinked up at a scowling Hulk, who towered over her, his brown hair nearly touching the ceiling as he pushed Jeff toward the couch.
“You don’t have to do this,” Tara said.
He smirked and glanced at Ball Cap. “They’re perfect for each other.”
The smaller man grunted.
“Unfortunately for you,” Hulk said once he had Jeff seated, “you’re going to have a falling out.”
Tara turned cold. What the hell d
id that mean?
“Here’s her gun,” he said to his partner, holding out the Sig Sauer that she had bought to use at the gun range after the whole Colin fiasco. It looked like a toy in his huge hands.
She inhaled sharply, dread weighing down her limbs. “Where did you get that?”
“Your condo. It’s not really that secure, you know.”
She knew that. Hell, she worked for a security firm. She understood all the flaws in her building’s system. Steele exploited those types of flaws on a daily basis in order to expose their clients’ vulnerable points.
It didn’t stop Hulk’s theft from feeling like a violation. Add that to the litany of infractions for which she wished him a cozy spot in Hell.
“Here’s the plan,” he said, seeming entirely too chipper about the whole thing. He was impressed with himself, wasn’t he?
Lowering her head to hide the disgust that was surely showing on her face, she stared at the tape on her wrists. She squinted. Was that a tear? Slowly, she wiggled her wrists. Sure enough, there was a small cut, probably from Jeff’s belt buckle.
She glanced at him. Had he planned it somehow, or was it an accident?
One of his eyebrows quirked almost imperceptibly.
Heart pounding, she scanned the room. How could she take advantage of this?
“You’re going to have a lover’s quarrel,” Hulk said, regaining her focus. “You’ll shoot him and then kill yourself.”
God, no. “That won’t work,” she blurted.
He gave her an indulgent smile that made her skin crawl. “And why is that?”
“Because…” Dammit. She needed to buy time.
Next to her, BC took the gun from Hulk. Turning away, something shiny in the cab caught her eye. The key! It was still in the ignition. And there was no one in her way.
“Because,” she started again, “the investigators will notice our wrists were bound. I’m already getting rub spots. Plus, do you know how hard it is to remove duct tape adhesive from the skin?”
Hulk sneered.
“Not to mention no one will believe I shot him.” Under the guise of shifting her weight, Tara moved closer to the RV’s cab. “We didn’t even hook up until yesterday.”
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