Truth or Consequences

by Diana Duncan

  She winced. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”

  “Someone has to.” Sometimes, his tough-guy attitude exasperated her, but in reality, she deeply admired him. This intelligent, brave, resourceful man had endured incredible pain all night with nary a complaint.

  “No need. I’m gonna kick butt and take names.” He let go of her hand and she slowly stood. He locked the fingers of his good hand around her ankle to help her balance. “You still have my knife from last night. Stab it into the wall for a handhold.”

  Using the rough, stacked log walls for hand and toeholds, Zoe climbed up to the window. Straddling the sill, she tied the rope from her bag around the heavy casement handle. “Behave yourself.” She blew him a kiss. “No smoking the wacky tobbacky.”

  His face stern, he stared up at her. “Don’t come back for me this time, Zoe. I mean it! Get out while you can.” His thick brows drew together in a scowl. “I want your word.”

  And leave her cop to face the enemy one-armed and empty-handed? Yeah, like that would happen. “Word. Master.” The coast was clear, and she shinnied down the rope.

  Zoe disappeared from Aidan’s sight, and he sank to the floor. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder, he slammed his good fist on the wooden boards. Infuriating woman! What were the odds she would listen to him this time? He grimaced. About the same as him donning a sparkly tiara and becoming the tooth fairy.

  He strained to hear shouts or sounds of pursuit. Nothing. Five minutes ticked by, and he slumped in relief. She’d made it!

  Aidan rose and scavenged supplies. He needed to set booby traps, build weapons and a barricade. He’d neutralize anyone who came for him and gain time to escape.

  At ten minutes and counting, he prayed Zoe had obeyed him for once and saved herself.

  After fifteen minutes, he cautiously began to believe it.

  Stop thinking about her. Focus on evade and escape. He bent his concentration to one-handedly constructing vicious booby traps from broken pallets, nails, wire and fishing lures.

  More time passed. His thoughts drifted to the night before, and his body tightened. Hell, he had to live through this. He wanted the chance to make love to Zoe…all night long. He grinned. He’d give her a whole new meaning for the term Master. A challenge he was definitely up for.

  “Psst! SWAT!” Zoe’s whisper floated down to him.

  Real, or conjured from his fantasies? He jerked his gaze up to see her balanced in the window. His heart leapt at the sight of her determined face. At the same time, his stomach clenched in fear. His contrary, stubborn, courageous gypsy would be the death of him. “I told you not to come back,” he growled.

  “One for all and all that jazz.” She tossed in a rope, and it dangled down the wall. “Grab hold.”

  He sighed. Argument was futile, but he tried anyway. “Go, before you get caught. You’re not strong enough to pull me up.”

  “I have the other end tied to a pickup. I’ll tow you up.” Her impish smile gleamed. “And before you ask, I did a story about teenagers and the dangers of joyriding. One of the little angels taught me to hot wire. Nobody around here locks their vehicles. Trusting bunch of crooks, aren’t they?”

  He shook his head. She’d stolen a truck from under a posse of drug runners! Brenda Starr was gonna scare twenty years off his life before she was through. His mouth slanted in a reluctant grin of admiration. Being with her was a free lifetime pass to an amusement park—up, down and lots of screaming. Hair-raising, heart-thundering exhilaration. But, damn, if he survived, the ride would be worth it. “You’ve got more guts than sense, sweetheart.”

  “You’re welcome.” Her smile widened. “See you on the other side.” She again disappeared from sight.

  A daring plan took shape. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain. He quickly unbound his injured arm, stuffed the sling in his pocket, then wrapped the rope around his wrist. As the rope grew taut, instead of bracing his feet on the wall and climbing, he let his arm support his weight. He groaned and fought not to pass out as he was winched up. Talk about the mother of all pain. He groaned again. But by the time he reached the window, his shoulder joint had popped back into place.

  Just as he swung a wobbly leg over the sill, the door burst open and Dave rushed inside. “What the—” He triggered the tripwire on Aidan’s booby trap and screamed as the tangle of jagged wood, metal, hooks and wires swung from the wall and nailed him. The shotgun flew out of his hands, and he bellowed.

  Aidan didn’t stick around to admire the results of his handiwork. Panting, sweating, with black spots dancing in front of his eyes from the agony in his shoulder, he rappelled left-handed to the ground.

  He staggered, and Zoe caught him. She planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Somebody here call a cab?”

  Aidan laughed. He would never change her. Never control her. Never own her. Nor did he want to. Her unquenchable spirit made Zoe her own, unequaled woman. The woman he loved. He had let her into his heart, and he would never be alone again. She helped him stumble to the truck and shoved him inside. Since he still couldn’t see straight, he slid over so she could drive. “Don’t expect a tip, lady. I’m a little short.”

  “Not so I’ve noticed.” She grinned. “But I accept barters.” Shouting men tore around the corner, and she scrambled into the driver’s seat and gunned the engine. “Gotta give my fan club points for persistence.”

  The truck bumped across uneven ground toward the one road leading out of the settlement. The posse chased them on foot.

  “Oh, yeah, they’re rabid.” He flexed his fingers and shook his tingling right arm as blood rushed back into circulation. “Not an asset in this case.”

  She glanced over at him. “Hey! How’d you fix your arm?”

  “Wound the rope around it. When you towed me up, my weight put it back in. The advantage of a dislocation over a break.”

  “Do-it-yourself orthopedics.” She cringed. “Ouch.”

  “Better than the alternative.” His shoulder ached like a bitch, but his arm was quickly regaining mobility. If he had to fight, at least he had two working hands. He tore apart the glove compartment, and then groped under the seat. “Weapons?”

  “Don’t think so. Ahhh!” Gunshots roared behind them, and at the same time, a tall, slim man jumped into the road ahead and stood directly in their path. Zoe let up on the gas.

  “Keep your head down!” He shoved her down and grabbed the wheel. “Don’t stop!”

  “I can’t run him over!”

  “I can.” He grimly stomped his foot on top of hers, forcing the gas pedal to the floor.

  “Oh, my God!” She screamed again and closed her eyes as the truck hurtled toward the man.

  At the very last second, he leapt out of the way. Another round of gunfire exploded, and the truck swerved wildly. Crap, someone had shot out a tire!

  He fought the bucking steering wheel, but couldn’t control the pickup. It skidded sideways and slammed into a tree. Pellets of safety glass scattered over them like hail. Jarred by the abrupt stop, Aidan ricocheted to the floorboards, and Zoe tumbled on top of him.

  Aidan untangled himself from her slender limbs. If she was hurt, he would rip out these guys’ eyeballs. And feed ’em to them for a midday snack. Sheltering her from the men outside, his hands quickly skimmed her body. “You okay?”

  She nodded shakily. “Yeah. You?”

  The passenger door was flung open. “Out,” a graveled baritone barked from behind the door. “Keep your hands in sight.”

  “No matter what happens, stay behind me,” he whispered in her ear. “If they take me out, run like hell.” Blocking Zoe with his body, his hands up, Aidan climbed out of the pickup.

  A stocky, tough-looking guy stepped into view and pointed a Beretta M-9 at his face. “Now you’ve gone and seriously pissed me off, O’Rourke.”

  Icy shock tore through Aidan’s gut as he stared at the man holding them at gunpoint
. The man who was supposed to be incapacitated in Mercy Hospital’s rehab facility. The man who had tortured his brother.

  The man who had murdered his father.

  Tony DiMarco.

  Chapter 15

  7:00 a.m.

  Blockaded behind Aidan, Zoe couldn’t see. Malignant malice thickened the air, and her instincts froze with dread. How did their captor know him? She’d been scared during the past ten hours, but the fear now icing her blood went far beyond terror.

  The Boss had arrived.

  The man snarled, “Move.”

  Aidan scooped Zoe in front of him, and the Boss herded them through town with a gun at Aidan’s back. She clung to his big, warm hand, and fear for him chilled her bone marrow. Everyone had said the Boss wanted to talk to her…and kill him.

  When they reached the center totem pole, their captor barked, “Secure him.”

  Two men lunged forward, and she turned. One yanked Aidan’s hands behind his back. The sharp wrench had to hurt his sore shoulder, but his face remained stoic. A second man reached into a nearby boat and grabbed a length of rope. They bound Aidan’s hands to a metal ring embedded in the totem pole.

  Zoe pivoted and faced their captor, and fear exploded into shock. “Tony DiMarco!”

  The burly man dressed in camouflage fatigues and combat boots inclined his head. “In the flesh.”

  “You’re supposed to be…how did you get here?”

  “Curiosity and the cat.” An odd gleam burned in his obsidian eyes. “You want the satisfaction of knowing, don’t you?” He gave her the sharp, lethal smile of a predator. “Lesson one, little girl. Money is power. I can buy anything I want. I’ve had men working at Mercy Hospital since shortly after I was admitted, including one as my physical therapist.” He tapped a large, firm bicep. “I’ve been exercising on the sly, and taking muscle relaxants so I look soft and flabby. Another of my men smuggled me out in a linen cart so you and I could keep our appointment. They’ll ensure nobody misses me for hours.”

  She took a deep, shuddering breath. Hold it together. Keep a clear head. Maybe she could talk their way out alive. Words were her greatest weapon. The more DiMarco rambled, the more time she had to think. She’d watched Aidan talk Eric down at the hostage site; maybe she could use some of his negotiating tactics. She wasn’t about to let him die. “You seem darned anxious to speak to me.”

  “Yeah, especially after I overheard your conversation outside my hospital room yesterday. You need to hear my side of the story, untainted by an O’Rourke.”

  Had she said anything to set him on the warpath? She struggled to remember. More importantly, had Aidan? She assessed the man she’d researched and tailed for six months. A smothering cloud of evil emanated from him, sending chills up her spine. He was shorter than Aidan, but bulkier. Twenty or so years older, but strong and fit, solid muscle. A former army Black Ops assassin and security expert.

  In comparison, Aidan had been on the run, beaten up, thrown over a cliff and injured. He’d be hard-pressed to subdue DiMarco in hand-to-hand combat. She glanced at her cop tied helplessly to the totem pole. If he even got the chance. DiMarco and his men were also armed to the teeth. Fear threatened to swamp her again, and she forcefully shoved it down. “So, let’s talk. But be warned. You won’t get a thing from me if you harm Aidan.”

  “Let me show you lesson number two, little girl. It came to my attention some time ago, but I saved it especially for you.” He nodded, and the thin man who’d jumped into the road sidled behind Zoe. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. The man grasped her upper arms, and she flinched.

  Aidan growled. “Touch her, and you’re gonna wish my brother had killed you quick and clean, DiMarco.”

  “Merely a preemptive strike. Our eager reporter is soft-hearted and impulsive. Immaturities she’ll outgrow.”

  He nodded a second time, and two men emerged from a nearby house with Muscles between them. So, he’d outrun the cougar and avoided a grisly death.

  Muscles saw them and wailed, “I didn’t do nothin’, Boss, I swear.” He tried to break free, but the men dragged him over to the totem poles.

  She bit her lip. Perhaps her relief was premature.

  When Muscles was bound to the pole to Aidan’s left, DiMarco walked up to him and smiled, making Zoe shiver. “Don’t make it worse by lying, Kent. You know how much I hate liars.”

  Kent gulped. “Okay, okay, I borrowed some cash off the last shipment.” He gulped again. “I ran a little short, but I was gonna pay it back. I wouldn’t steal from you, Boss.”

  “No, Kent.” DiMarco patted the man’s cheek. “You won’t.”

  Kent’s face blanched. He screamed and lunged, trying to escape. “No! No! Please, Boss!”

  His terror was a living, breathing entity. Nausea churned inside Zoe, and her palms grew damp. Her gaze sought Aidan for reassurance. The helpless fury smoldering in his eyes made her queasy stomach cramp.

  Ignoring Kent’s sobbing pleas, DiMarco withdrew a covered syringe from his shirt pocket.

  Zoe flushed hot and then cold, and goose bumps erupted on her skin. He couldn’t torture a man right in front of them. She fought to break free, but the man’s grip on her arms tightened. “You can’t do this!”

  “This is my town, little girl. My laws. A leader commands respect. Watch, and learn.”

  He was insane! The egomaniac had obviously brought her here to put on a show for the press. Did he think she’d do a feature about his twisted dictatorship? Did he think to win her respect with his sick power trip? “DiMarco, that’s enough! I believe you’re a powerful man. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

  “It’s important for you to witness this. So you’ll truly understand what respect is all about.”

  “I understand! I do! Don’t hurt him on my behalf, please.” Her panicked gaze again flew to Aidan. His jaw was so tightly clenched, a muscle ticked in his cheek and the cords in his neck stood out. His eyes tender with compassion, he shook his head.

  Caught in a backlash of helpless fury, she sagged against the hands holding her captive. Aidan had tracked DiMarco for years. He’d read all the case files. Knew what the man was capable of. Knew begging for mercy was futile.

  He’d seen DiMarco’s MO written in his own father’s blood.

  “Make no mistake. I’m going to hurt him on my behalf. On behalf of Satisfaction.” DiMarco popped the cap, and Zoe’s mouth went dry. What kind of drug was he going to shoot into Kent?

  Kent sobbed hysterically. “Please, Mr. DiMarco, don’t kill me! I’ll pay you back with interest.”

  “You already have.” DiMarco’s voice was slick, hard ice. “You can either be a good example, Kent. Or a terrible warning.” His black eyes glittered. “You’ve served your purpose in life.”

  Zoe’s head spun, and spots whirled in front of her eyes. DiMarco wasn’t going to torture Kent. He was going to kill him!

  And she couldn’t stop it. No one could.

  Kent’s pathetic whimpers tore through her as the men held his arm still and DiMarco administered the injection. At first nothing happened. Then Kent shrieked and writhed. He convulsed. Foam bubbled on his lips. Blood streamed from his nose, and he gasped for breath.

  She couldn’t bear it. She slammed her eyes shut. This can’t be happening. Please, this can’t be happening.

  Kent’s horrible choking, gurgling noises seemed to go on forever. Finally, thick silence descended.

  Weak and trembling, Zoe instinctively sought Aidan. She caught a glimpse of what had been Kent hanging from the pole beside him and retched. She stared at DiMarco, numb with shock. “How could you?” she whispered. “You’re a monster!”

  “I’m a king. And nobody interferes with my empire. Not even the almighty O’Rourkes. Which brings us to lesson three.”

  Staring into his soulless eyes, she saw Aidan’s death. She staggered under the brutal blow, and her heart pounded in her throat, choking her. DiMarco was going to kill Aidan. The same t
orturous way he had Kent.

  And she couldn’t stop him.

  No one could.

  Her panicked gaze shot to Aidan, and she saw the same realization etched on his stoic face.

  Oh, dear God!

  She stomped her captor’s instep, and he howled and released her. Shaking uncontrollably, she edged away from DiMarco until her back was pressed to Aidan’s warm, solid body. “I’ll give you anything. Do anything you want. Anything. Just don’t hurt him.”

  “Sweetheart, no!” Aidan hissed.

  “Would you?” DiMarco watched her with glittering eyes, a snake toying with a mouse he was about to devour. “No matter how painful? How degrading?”

  Every muscle in Aidan’s body went taut with strain. “He won’t let me go, Zoe. Don’t play his sick game.”

  “If you guarantee that he’ll live, yes.” Zoe raised her chin. Aidan had a family who depended on him, cared for him. A family who would mourn him forever. She had no one. He’d see that her mother’s needs were met. “I’m the one investigating you. Take me instead. Please, just spare him.”

  “No!” Aidan shouted, wrenching against his bonds. “For God’s sake, Zoe, don’t!”

  DiMarco smiled his cold, lethal smile. “Your loyalty is admirable. I wonder if you’ll feel the same after we talk?”

  “You can talk until you’re blue in the face, DiMarco. Nothing you say or do will ever change my mind about Aidan.”

  He held her gaze, his eyes blazing with intensity. “You don’t remember me at all then, Francesca?”

  “Why did you call me by my middle name? My name is Zoe.” She shook her head. “We’ve never met face to face. Why should I remem—” She stared into the black, bottomless pit of his eyes, and the world tilted. Without warning, the memory hurtled back so vividly, she staggered under the assault.

  “Francie, get in the hall closet, under these coats.”

  “No, Mommy, I’m scared.”

  “You have to stay in here, baby girl, and don’t make a sound, you hear me? Not a sound, no matter what.”