by Angie Derek
A handgun lay on the arm of the couch next to the guy on the right. The other guy seemed to be drowsing. John tapped the van with his finger. Marc nodded and eased back. John slowly and quietly opened the van's back door. It was unlocked.
Empty. John eased the door shut again and Marc signaled they would have to approach from straight behind. John and Chuck nodded.
Raising his gun, Marc moved out from cover and straight toward the couch. The TV watcher was a lot more alert than he'd given him credit for. He suddenly sprang up, grabbed his gun and spun.
Marc fired before the guy could pull the trigger. The bullet hit him square in the chest and he flew backward, landing like a downed drunk. The sleeping one jerked awake and tried to run. Marc shot the sofa cushion beside him, and he froze.
"Stay put!" Marc walked up behind him.
John leaned over the fallen gunman and felt for a pulse. He shook his head.
"Where is she?" Marc demanded.
"I don't know what you're talking about," couch man said.
Pressing the gun barrel to the man's temple, Marc repeated, "Where is she?"
"The office," he squeaked out. "She's fine."
"We'll see about that." Grabbing the kidnapper, Marc dragged him to the office doorway. He looked into the office and immediately focused on the bed. He knew before Lessa turned her head it was her. At the small movement, the iciness in his gut began to thaw. He almost said her name, but turned his attention back to the tall guy when he shifted. He had to stay focused. She was alive, and he meant to keep her that way. "Who ordered this?"
"We didn't know the guy." Sweat poured down couch man's face. "He called Ralph and set it up. I never met him."
Marc shoved him to his knees and placed the gun against the back of his head. "Who was he?"
"He didn't tell us his name. He paid us to grab her and hold her until he said."
"Why?"
"He didn't say, man. Just wanted her out of the way for a while."
"Did you touch her?" The significance of their chaining her to a bed was not lost on him.
"No way, man."
"I don't believe you." Marc leaned down. "You're lying."
"I swear. We didn't do anything."
Marc knocked him on the head with the side of the gun.
He moaned, instinctively covering the bleeding wound with his hand. "Okay, okay, maybe I copped a feel, but that's it."
Lessa had a hard time believing what she was seeing. She closed her eyes and reopened them. It was Marc. Muscleman cowered on the floor, and her protector stood over him, a gun in his hand.
Marc looked up at her, expression emotionless. Without his saying anything, she understood exactly what he wanted her to do. She turned her head and closed her eyes.
Even with the silencer, the sound of the gunshot echoed in the small room. Then every nerve ending in her body recoiled as the bed shifted. She knew it was Marc, but couldn't help the instinctive flinch.
The key snicked in the lock of the cuffs and Marc gently removed them from her wrists. Her arms throbbed, but she refused to open her eyes. She didn't want to see what was left. Marc scooped her up into his arms, and she could hear his footfalls as he crossed the room and carried her out.
Lessa didn't open her eyes until she felt the ocean breeze on her face. Then she cautiously peered out from under her lashes.
"She okay?" a deep voice asked next to Marc.
Lessa turned her head into Marc's chest as her heart jumped in panic. She reminded herself that he wouldn't have come alone. The guy talking had to be one of Marc's men.
"Start the car," Marc said tersely.
The car door opened. Marc jiggled her up and somehow she was inside the backseat of a sedan. He slid in next to her. The light dimmed as the door slammed shut and the engine roared to life.
The driver's dark hair, and another man in the passenger seat were visible in the dim light. Marc sat quietly next to her, his breathing slow and steady, though audible. The fingers of her hand still clung to his leather jacket, and she gripped tighter as emotions cascaded over her. She was safe. He'd come for her. She didn't want to think about what he'd done to save her. She would have to one day, but not now.
Angling herself on the seat, she loosened her grip on his jacket and looked up. He held her gaze, but wore the familiar mask.
"Thank you," she whispered.
A shudder went through Marc's body, alarming her, and before she could take a breath she was in his arms pressed against his chest. His heart pounded as hard as her own. She tucked her head under his chin to comfort him as much as herself. Another shudder racked him, and she gripped his shirt.
"Did they hurt you?" he whispered in a rough voice.
She didn't want to think about it, not now that she was safe. But there was no avoiding it since it was the only thing running through her head. "No, not really."
"What did they do?"
"It doesn't matter." She closed her eyes and focused on his warmth. "You got me out."
"Did they rape you?" Marc growled.
"N-no." Lessa shook her head and pressed tighter against him.
"He touched you."
"Once." She pushed the remembered fear aside. She'd been terrified of what he'd do once he had permission from his boss. But that hadn't happened. "The other one said I wasn't to be hurt."
His grip loosened, but she didn't want to be released. He shifted, setting her beside him. The loss of his body heat sent a chill through her. She looked up at his face and saw again his remote mask. She didn't know why she was trying to see what he was thinking. His expression never showed anything. Even his eyes remained blank.
He glanced out the window, and she wondered if he was regretting coming and what he'd had to do to save her. Uncertainty wound its way through. While she'd been held captive, the only thing that had kept her from falling into bone-chilling panic was the certainty that he'd come for her. He'd find her. And he'd rescued her much faster than she'd thought possible.
"I'm sorry," Lessa said, thinking about the lives he'd taken to save her.
Marc jerked his gaze back to her. "You shouldn't have been left unguarded."
"No." She wrapped her arms around herself to give the hug she craved. "I'm sorry you had to come for me and do what you did."
His eyes narrowed, and a flash of heat went through them. "I'm not." He hesitated. "I'll always protect you. It won't happen again."
Sadness weighted down her heart. His loyalty to her new family was unquestionable. "You shouldn't have to worry about me, too."
"Yes, I do." He closed his eyes. "It's my fault."
"How could it be your fault?"
"I scared you." He looked out the window again. "Because of me you ran. I should have…"
She couldn't deny having his anger focused on her been frightening, but that wasn't what had made her leave. She'd run home in order to pretend she wasn't related to the Mob. That she wasn't knee-deep in a situation she had no idea how to deal with. "You should have what?"
"I should've stayed away from you from the start."
"Then who would watch over me?" Lessa tried to feel her way through the tension in his voice and what he wasn't saying.
"I'm sorry. For what I said and did. I shouldn't have lost my temper. When I found you in the hall. I-I didn't want you to see or know what went on. You're supposed to be protected." He looked at her. "Shit, I'd just left your bed. I didn't want you to see me that way, but that's not an excuse. My first priority is to protect you, and I didn't do a good job that night or after."
He probably wouldn't listen to her arguments that coming to her rescue proved him wrong. She was safe because of him. Because of who he was. Lessa uncrossed her arms to wrap them around him. He tensed first, but relaxed and tucked her in to him again.
"I'll never hurt you, Lessa. It would be like cutting my own heart out. I…"
She waited for him to continue, but he didn't. As she snuggled in tighter, the last of his resi
stance finally melted away, and he smoothed her hair down her back.
"I knew you'd come," she whispered.
He paused for a second before continuing to comb her hair with his fingers. She closed her eyes, his touch lulling her more than his almost declaration of love. She was safe with him. "I've never been so frightened, but I kept telling myself you'd come for me, before . . ."
"Your family's very worried."
"Hmmm." She bolted up with horror. "My mother."
"I have men on her. She's safe."
"She must be frantic," Lessa whispered. Twin spires of guilt rose up. "It's what she was afraid of from the beginning."
"We don't know," Marc said slowly as if searching for the right word, "if your snatch was related to the family. There's the small item of a stalker you never told me about."
She barely heard him. "I have to call her and let her know I'm okay."
"When you're safe."
"Now." She reached into his jacket where he always had his cell phone. "You have to take me to her."
Marc relinquished control of his phone, but shook his head. "I need to get you back where you're safe."
She couldn't go back. She had to contact her mother and reassure her she was all right.
"Whoever ordered this abduction doesn't know I found you. I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible. There's always a chance they have people watching your mother. Don't worry. Two of our men are with her and will keep her safe."
"But—" Lessa was about to ask why her mother couldn't come with them, but she stopped to focus on dialing. The phone rang once and Erin, breathless, answered.
"Mom." Lessa fought back the tears. If she started crying she didn't think she could stop.
"Oh, Lessa." Erin cried heavily. "Honey, where are you?"
"I'm safe," she said. "I'm okay."
"Oh." Her mother's crying increased to sobs.
"I'm okay, Mom." Helplessness crept up her spine as her words of reassurance seemed not to help. "I wasn't hurt."
The sobbing grew louder and then faded away.
A male voice spoke into the receiver. "Miss Noelle?"
"Who's this?" she asked sharply.
"Andrew. Marc left me to watch over your mom."
"Is she okay?"
"She's fine. Just very relieved. I'll have her call you as soon as she's able."
"Okay." She reluctantly hung up. "I've really hurt her."
"It wasn't your fault." Marc slid the phone back into his pocket.
"You said yourself I shouldn't have run and been without guards." She thought about the worry and pain her mother had been going through.
"No, it was my fault."
Lessa shot him a look. His mask had dropped, and he looked at her without hiding. She was about to comment on the open emotion she was trying to sort through when he spoke again.
"Tell me about this stalker of yours."
She glanced away to try to get a handle on her own volatile feelings before meeting his gaze again. "I don't think Emily was behind this."
"Emily.…"
She shrugged. "Emily blames me because she didn't make the final cut for the cheerleading squad. She sent me a few nasty letters and left some threatening voice mails."
His eyes narrowed. "And tried to run you over with a car."
Lessa shook her head. "She didn't try to run me over."
"She could have had someone do it for her. Just as she could have hired those two goons." The car stopped and Marc glanced out the window. "We're here."
Opening his door and climbing out, he looked around before reaching his hand in to gently tug her out of the car's safe cocoon. She immediately slid up to him as close as she could get. The same jet that had picked her up before sat with its lights flashing. Suddenly the engines roared to life, and she more than slid up against him, but jumped into his arms in surprise.
"It's all right," Marc soothed as the car's driver handed him a bag. "John, head back to Erin's and work out a schedule with Andrew and Brady. She's never to be alone."
"Sure, Boss." John gave a small salute as he climbed back into the car.
"We're leaving." Lessa stated the obvious as she stared at the plane.
His cell phone vibrated, and he shifted her slightly to frown over a text message. "Until we know who grabbed you and why. You'll be safe at the house. No one will be able to get to you there."
"My mother."
"I'm leaving three guards with her." He paused a moment. "Bringing her to the estate would be complicated."
"I know. How would Jio explain her to his mother?"
"I'll get who grabbed you." He escorted her up the small stairs into the jet's cabin.
Another man followed. He looked familiar, but Lessa couldn't place who he was. He pulled the outside door shut and banged on the cockpit door. "Let's go."
At Marc's urging, she slid into one of the leather seats in the back of the cabin. She was uncomfortable with even the foot of distance between them. He sat just in front of her, his expression serious. The other man sat in the front, giving them as much privacy as he was able.
"Once the threat's been eliminated," Marc said, "we'll set it up so you can go back home. You'll have to have guards. We can't take that chance again at least for a while. The secret must be out about your paternity. I can't see any reason for some low-level thugs grabbing you except your ties to the family."
"You know who they were?"
He nodded. "John got their IDs and sent them to Jio. That message was Jio letting me know they're freelancers who don't work for any particular family or syndicate. They take high risk jobs in whatever area they set up shop in until they get run out of town."
"What did they want?"
Marc shook his head. "No one ever contacted us. This whole thing doesn't make sense. Did they say anything to you?"
She hugged her arms around her body as a slow chill worked its way through her bones. "Nothing specific. They didn't ask me anything."
"They wouldn't. If they wanted information they would have grabbed one of the men."
"That's incredibly sexist." She wasn't sure if she was insulted or amused. Hard to believe she could find something funny right then.
He looked startled, but his lips curved ever so slightly. "The way of the world. I don't mean what they asked you, but what they said around you. You said that one of them said you weren't to be hurt."
Lessa nodded and figured she had better throw in the rest. "Yet."
Marc glowered. "Yet?"
"One of them said something about orders and Muscleman pressed some chloroform over my mouth and I passed out. When I woke up I was handcuffed to the bed."
His eyes narrowed. "How long were you out?"
"I don't know."
He jerked his gaze to the window. "It's possible they might have done something to you while you were unconscious. Did you feel different or have any pain when you woke up?"
She shook her head, a dull throb in her stomach reacting to the thought of them violating her while she was unconscious. "No, I don't think they did anything while I was asleep."
He looked back at her in relief. "Okay, what did they say after you woke up?"
Lessa tried to think back. She'd been so consumed with trying not to panic she hadn't really paid much attention to what they were doing or saying when they'd been in the other room. When Muscleman had come in she'd been waiting for him to rape her. Except for the phone call. She'd tried to pay attention then.
"They had a phone call."
"Good." Marc encouraged her to go on.
"I was waking up and could hear them talking in the other room. They called someone to tell him they had me. They put it on speaker so both of them could listen, but didn't tell him. I think I recognized the voice."
Marc leaned forward. "Who was it?"
"I don't know." She shook her head in frustration. "I can hear it in my head, and it's familiar, but wrong."
"Wrong context?"
&nbs
p; "No, the voice was wrong. It didn't sound right. I don't know why."
"What did the voice say?"
Her head ached as she tried to remember the exact wording. "One of them asked what to do with me, and the voice answered that they were to hold on to me. He said . . ." She frowned, trying to recall the words. What had made her think of Marc and wait for him to come and rescue her? "With me gone, he'd be distracted."
Marc swore softly under his breath. "He was talking about me." He paused. "Or Jio. Someone's planning something, and they don't want us to see it coming."
"But why think that my disappearance would cause either of you a lot of trouble? You've been busy trying to figure out who killed Jiovanni."
He stared at her. "I'm an idiot. It's all connected together. With you gone, I was back on the investigation full force, and they had to get me off it."
"You're that good?" Lessa smiled for the first time.
"Yeah," he said with an answering smile. "You recognized the voice, the person knew I was too busy to investigate with you there, and they knew I'd come for you. It's an inside job."
"I don't know who it was."
"You'll remember."
"But I didn't know who it was in the first place."
"Out of context. It's someone you've heard, but haven't been with every day. We'll start there."
"Now?"
"No, not now." He patted her knee. "You need to rest. We'll come at it fresh. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Did they feed you?"
"I wasn't there very long."
"Right." He stood up and moved to the small galley to rummage in the counters and small frig. After a few minutes, a mini-microwave dinged and he brought a tray over. He used his foot to pull the small table up from the wall between the two seats and set the tray down. "Eat."
Lessa frowned at him, but couldn't hide the growl from her stomach as the aroma of the hot scones enticed her. It seemed odd to be doing something as mundane as eating. Her nerves still hadn't recovered and, though hungry, she was afraid she'd be sick if she ate anything.
He got up and sat in the chair next to her. "Lessa, it's okay now. You need to eat and rest. Then we can tackle what needs to be done."
She nodded to show she'd heard, but still couldn't eat.
