Dancing with Fire

by Susan Kearney

  So in the split second she recognized Sawyer, she spun, gave him her back. Although many eyes followed her dance, Kaylin could have sworn she felt only Sawyer’s stare burning holes through her.

  Too bad. She tossed her head. She was here to put on a show. And that’s exactly what she would do. Drawing on all of her emotions and professional expertise, she threw herself into the dance. Spun away her fears. Shimmied out her uncertainty. Let herself go with the flowing rhythm. Drawing in the music, she went to another place deep inside, where she stirred all her determination and let confidence emerge in her steps, hope shine through in the angle of her head, anticipation in the gestures of her hands. She let the dance rip, with no self-examination, no thought for the audience.

  It was pure art.

  And when she finished, held her last pose, and blew out the candles, the audience was absolutely silent.

  Oh, God . . .

  Sweat glistened on her skin in the lamplight. Obviously this audience had expected traditional belly dance—not the Americanized contemporary tribal fusion version. If the owner tossed her out, didn’t allow her to finish her set, then she wouldn’t have time to scope out the place.

  But someone in the bar began to clap. As if the noise broke a spell, others joined in. Dollars flew into the air. Some men actually stood to give her an ovation.

  Hoping she hadn’t revealed her uncertainty in her eyes, she waved and glided smoothly toward the back. Breathing returning to normal, she removed the hot metal and candles from her hands, uncapped a water bottle and rested near the bar, hoping no one would think her presence unusual or unwarranted. She drank the water slowly and searched the customers’ faces.

  During her dance, several new drinkers had joined the others at the bar. And while some men spoke English, they talked about their jobs, their wives, their children, and their girlfriends. Nothing unusual.

  Still, Kaylin didn’t give up. And when the phone rang, Kaylin eased around so she could listen to whoever took the call. When Shadee came out of the back and picked up the phone, she choked on the water, mid-swallow.

  She had no idea if he spoke English or Arabic. He kept his voice low, down to a murmur. Heart pounding, muffling her cough, Kaylin shifted her position until her back faced him. Had he recognized her? Had he followed her here? But why? Or was it just coincidence? He had said he would check out the place.

  Before she could decide whether to confront him or try to remain anonymous, a hard object suddenly jabbed her in the ribs. A man’s harsh voice whispered into her ear. “Don’t call for help, or Lia is dead. You will come with me.”

  Uh-oh. Fear streaked down her spine, and a chill radiated through her. Someone had figured out her identity. Surely Shadee hadn’t turned her in? What about Quinn? Could either man be working with the kidnappers? For all their sakes, she prayed not. But as the gunman forced her to walk past Shadee, Becca’s lover didn’t glance her way, giving no indication he’d recognized her or knew she was in trouble.

  And from his angle at his booth, Sawyer wouldn’t see the gun pressed into her side, either. The restaurant was too busy, too dark. Should she cry out? Yell for help? Or the cops?

  At the realization she no longer had her phone in her possession, her fear quickly spiked back up and she began to tremble. If Lia hadn’t been kidnapped, Kaylin would have taken her chances on shouting for help while still amid this crowd. Sawyer was less than thirty feet away. Shadee even closer. However, she couldn’t risk escaping if it meant placing Lia in further danger.

  Between her worry for Lia and the muzzle pressing into her bare flesh, crying out seemed stupid. She’d been careless. Overconfident. Being in public hadn’t kept her safe. She should have listened to Sawyer.

  And yet she might have been caught because she was on the right track. Or someone thought she was and felt threatened. Maybe she shouldn’t have barged into that back room. Still, whoever this man was, he might know something about Lia.

  Kaylin stilled her trembling and turned around in the costume room as if she didn’t have a gun pressed into her kidney. When the man slammed the door behind her, she distracted herself from the fact that he had her trapped by taking in his features.

  He wore dark sunglasses and a flowing white robe. A cord at his forehead kept the headdress in place, but she could make out a prominent nose over a thick gray and black mustache and beard. His brown eyes, cold and malevolent, assessed her as if she were a cockroach.

  Kaylin addressed the man she assumed was the owner of Pasha’s Restaurant. “Mr. Asad?”

  “Yes.” He seized her veil, tore it from her face, and let it flutter to the floor. He looked from a dance flyer with Kaylin’s picture that he held in his hand to her face. “Kaylin Danner?”

  Seeing no point in denying the obvious, she nodded.

  In a swift, powerful move, he raised his hand and slapped her.

  Kaylin’s quick reflexes helped deflect most of the blow. Still, she fell away from the brutal force, staggering, her ear ringing. If she hadn’t reacted, she might be out cold. As it was, her cheek burned hot enough that tears sprang into her eyes, but more than the pain, his cruelty slashed straight to the bone. If this man held Lia . . . God . . . even if she found her sister, she would . . .

  She breathed hard, clenching and unclenching her fingers. “I want my sister.”

  “You ignored my directions,” Asad countered. All she could see were tight lips, dark skin with no real identifying marks. But he’d just admitted he knew about Lia, that he’d made the phone call.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t believe he made foolish mistakes. Obviously, he thought he had total control of the situation and that she could do nothing with the knowledge. Either he didn’t expect her to leave this room alive, or he knew she’d do whatever he asked to save her sister.

  Maybe she could use that.

  “I want my sister. I’ll do anything to save her. You can have me instead.”

  “I already have you.”

  “What do you want?”

  “You know what I want.” He slapped her again. “Don’t waste my time with foolish questions.”

  Her cheek felt like it was on fire. It took all her willpower not to cower, not to raise her hand to her face to soothe the burn. “You want the biodiesel formula?”

  Asad smiled, pulling his lips back, reminding her of a cheetah about to pounce on its prey. Kaylin steeled her spine, prepared for another blow.

  Instead, he kept her off balance, demanding, “Who knows you are here?”

  She ached to lick her dry bottom lip, but that would be a sign of weakness. Instead, she shrugged. “No one.”

  He slapped her again, but the sting of her cheek was the least of her problems. The door opened, and two men thrust Sawyer into the room. They held him between them, each man wrenching back one of his arms. His worried gaze found her, and she mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  She’d insisted on coming here, and although he’d followed of his own accord, she felt responsible for his safety. Asad took the gun from her ribs, aimed the weapon at Sawyer’s temple, and her heart danced up her throat.

  “Oh God. Don’t shoot him.”

  Asad spoke to her, his voice harsh and impatient. “Give me the formula. Now.”

  Sawyer had the laptop in his vehicle, or at least he had when she’d left him last. If Kaylin revealed the information, Lia might never regain her freedom. But if she held back, Asad might shoot Sawyer.

  The terrible choice weakened her knees. Her head spun.

  Think. Think. And she came up with a desperate plan.

  She forced words out her mouth. “The deal was, my sister for the formula. But if you kill Sawyer, you’ll never get the formula, because only he has the computer password.”

  Asad frowned. “Is that true?”

  Sawyer hesita
ted.

  Asad slapped Kaylin again, splitting her lip. She gasped at the pain, and Sawyer lunged toward her, but Asad’s men held each of Sawyer’s arms, preventing him from reaching her.

  Slowly Kaylin straightened. Between the pain in her lips and her cheeks and the ringing in her ears, she swayed on her feet. As much as she feared Asad, she risked a glance at Sawyer. Earlier, she’d thought she’d seen him angry, but nothing compared to what she saw now. His eyes burned with a wild fury. Every muscle in his body drew taut with rage. His mouth pressed so tight, his lips formed a tense line.

  Asad lifted his arm to strike her again.

  “What she says is partially true,” Sawyer ground out. “I have the laptop, but I no longer have the access code.”

  Asad pointed the gun at Sawyer again and cocked it. “Then I no longer have need of you.”

  “Wrong.” Sawyer grinned, his eyes defiant, and Kaylin dared to breathe again. From the twinkle in his eye, she dared to hope Sawyer could outsmart Asad. “Knowing we might walk into a difficult situation, I asked a friend to change the laptop code. He’s agreed to tell me the code—”

  “Then call him.”

  “Only after Lia is free.” Sawyer shrugged. “No matter what I tell him now, he won’t give up the code until Lia returns home.”

  Kaylin realized she’d been holding her breath and slowly released the air in her straining lungs. If Sawyer had lied, he was damn good at it. If he’d told the truth, she would have kissed him if she could have, even if her lip had swollen to twice its normal size. Thanks to Sawyer’s advance planning and/or quick thinking, they still had a chance to free her sister.

  Asad’s expression didn’t change. He spoke to his men in a language she didn’t recognize. They patted Sawyer down for weapons, removed his cell phone from his pocket, and shoved Sawyer into a chair. After cuffing his hands behind his back, through the chair slats, they left.

  Now what?

  Kaylin didn’t dare ask. Asad didn’t say anything. She prayed they had Lia safe in another room in this restaurant and that he would free her. But she couldn’t predict what Asad would do. Every time he looked at her, she went clammy and cold. Asad appeared to have no conscience, no compassion or kindness, as if the world had sucked all humanity from his soul.

  She wished she knew where he’d sent his men. She wished she understood his orders. And she wished she knew for certain if Shadee was their friend, because if she’d been wrong to trust him, she and Sawyer were on their own, and no one would be coming to check the whereabouts of her cell phone.

  But most of all she wished that some good would come of her actions. That Asad would let her sister go free.

  35

  AT FIRST LIA paid no attention to the voices. After all, she’d been hearing odd sounds all day: a barking dog, a roaring lion, a baby crying, spiders whispering to one another. Every cell in her body craved water. Her lips were desert dry and her tongue swollen. In a rational moment she understood dehydration had led to hallucinations, and it took several long seconds to comprehend that someone really was outside.

  Her throat, long past the point of shouting for help, hurt so much she couldn’t utter a sound. Instead, she picked up the broken headset and pounded the floor. With little strength left, she created a few tiny dings.

  She would have cried in frustration, but her body had no fluid left for tears. Moving her hand shot pain up her arm, but she made the effort. Her body was shutting down. Her kidneys hadn’t worked all day.

  But as the door opened, she summoned enough energy to turn her head. Bright lights blinded her.

  She must have passed out because the next thing she knew, she was sitting up. A blindfold had been tied over her eyes, but someone held a cup to her lips. She drank greedily, blessed water running down her parched throat.

  Lia had swallowed only a few sips and would have begged for more, except a gruff male voice with a Greek accent warned, “Not too much at once, or you’ll vomit.”

  Someone carried her to a car, thrust her into the back seat, and gave her more water before blindfolding her again. Her brain started to work. They wouldn’t have given her water if they intended to kill her, would they?

  But Lia had been through too much to get her hopes up. For all she knew they were moving her to another location, another prison. She couldn’t bear to go through that again.

  Her mouth was still so dry. She could have downed a gallon or two of fluid.

  Since Lia had no clue where she’d been kept, she didn’t attempt to memorize the twists and turns of the vehicle’s route. However, if the car stopped and she listened hard, heard people outside, maybe she could summon enough strength to scream.

  But if she did, would they put her back in her prison? She might be blindfolded and helpless, but the air conditioning felt like heaven. And she’d do anything for more water. She didn’t want to make them angry.

  They hadn’t tied her hands or feet—they didn’t need to. Too weak to stand or walk by herself, she didn’t have the strength to escape. Instead, she licked her bottom lip, and the man gave her more water. Light-headed but feeling better than she had all day, Lia wished someone would tell her what was going on.

  The not knowing what would happen, whether she would live or die, was the hardest part. That and knowing her sisters would be worried sick over her and that she might never see them again.

  As she’d agonized through the heat of the day, Lia had almost welcomed death. She’d wanted to be done with the suffering. So she’d given up. Despite all her vows to keep fighting, she’d quit.

  She’d been weak when she begged God to either take her or save her. But what hadn’t killed her had made her stronger. Already she knew that every day from now on would be a gift . . . and she would be up to dealing with whatever life threw her way.

  Now she just wanted to go home.

  36

  FOR KAYLIN, the wait to see if Asad would free Lia took an eternity. Every second seemed an hour, every minute a day. Finally Asad’s cell rang. He placed the phone on speaker. Kaylin heard Becca screaming, “My God. Lia’s back! She’s home. We’ve got her. She’s safe.” From the enthusiasm in Becca’s voice, Kaylin believed Lia was really free.

  A moment later Lia spoke into the phone, sounding hoarse. “I’m home, Kaylin. They let me go.”

  With all her heart Kaylin wished she could be there to hug and comfort Lia, but Becca would have to stand in for her. Maybe Becca would go to their grandmother, and they’d be safe, but Asad snapped the phone shut, and Kaylin realized she was not going to be allowed to speak to Becca.

  She braced for anything and tried to remember that no matter what happened next, at least Lia was alive. Free.

  A huge weight lifted off Kaylin. She’d promised her mother to take care of her sisters. And she’d done that.

  “Where’s your laptop?” Asad asked Sawyer.

  He didn’t hesitate. “In my truck. It’s parked on the corner. Keys are in my pocket.”

  A man took his keys and left. Quickly he returned with the laptop, opened it and set it in front of Sawyer. Kaylin’s hopes soared. If Asad possessed the data, maybe she and Sawyer would also soon be free.

  Asad nudged Sawyer with his gun. “The password?”

  “You’ll need to make another call.” Sawyer looked Asad in the eye, then waited as if he hadn’t a care in the world. If she hadn’t known better, Kaylin wouldn’t have guessed Sawyer was helpless, handcuffed to the chair. Composed and casual, he gave off a confident vibe.

  “The number?”

  Sawyer reeled off a number, and Asad punched it in. A woman answered the phone: “Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Office.”

  “Is this a joke?” Asad pistol-whipped Sawyer, slamming his head to one side. Kaylin gasped. Blood seeped from a long cut. His eyes clouded as if almost losing co
nsciousness.

  Sawyer managed a shrug. “If you want the code, ask for Deputy Bryant.”

  Asad warned him, “I will not permit you to stay on the line over thirty seconds.”

  “I only need ten, twenty, tops.” Sawyer asked for the deputy.

  He came on the line almost immediately. “Deputy Bryant.”

  “It’s Sawyer. What’s my password?”

  “WQYZEDLPSRX298WL.”

  Asad motioned one of his men to write. The other typed the code into the laptop, verified the data, and hung up. Her emotions on a roller coaster—up when Lia had been released, down when Asad pistol-whipped Sawyer, now up again that they might go free—Kaylin tried to control the adrenaline surging through her. But at least Deputy Bryant knew they were in trouble and could triangulate their position from the cell phone’s GPS. But she had no idea how long it would take him to get here and find them.

  Sawyer stood, the chair coming up with him. “You have what you want, now let us go.”

  Asad kicked his legs out from under him. With his hands cuffed, Sawyer was unable to protect himself and went down hard. The slats broke, and one of the chair’s legs snapped beneath him. He groaned as he hit the floor, but he must have been faking the injury, because as Asad and his men laughed, Sawyer stuffed part of the broken chair leg up his sleeve. She tried not to watch, instead closing her eyes.

  Kaylin had no idea what Sawyer could do with a broken piece of wood when his wrists remained cuffed, but she wouldn’t give up any advantage, especially one he’d paid so dearly to gain. When she heard a vehicle pull up behind the restaurant, she prayed the sheriff’s office was about to rescue them. She opened her eyes.

  “Get them up,” Asad ordered. “We’re taking them with us.”

  What? Kaylin shook her head. Oh, God. If Asad moved them now, Deputy Bryant would never find them. “That wasn’t the deal. We gave you the information. Now let us go.”