The Gilded Cuff

by Smith, Lauren

  “Well, well, we meet again.” Wes’s voice was low, silky, and seductive. “Officially, this time. I was admiring you the other night. You were such a breath of fresh air in the club. It’s a pity you’re Emery’s. I’d have been happy to tutor you in the ways of submission.”

  I’ll just bet you would, she thought dryly. Sophie sank deeper into the bed, trying to ensure that the covers wouldn’t slip down and expose her nakedness to the two men.

  “Can you please let me out of these cuffs?” she asked, attempting to sound plaintive and sweet. She had a feeling that demanding her release would get her nowhere with these two men.

  They shared a meaningful look that boded ill for Sophie’s plans. Then Royce shook his head.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. We’ve got orders straight from Emery. You are to remain right where you are.”

  Royce and Wes seated themselves on opposite sides at the foot of the bed. Royce’s lips twitched at Sophie’s little growl of frustration. Wes, however, propped one leg up and rested his arms on his knee and stared at her thoughtfully.

  “Royce said you’re writing Emery’s story.”

  “Well…I’m actually not planning on writing it anymore. Emery and I have to have a little talk about that.”

  Royce’s humor faded and he focused on her. “You’ve had a change of heart?”

  “I came here intending to solve the kidnapping, not just write about his story. But yesterday some psycho burned Emery’s barn to the ground and left one of Fenn’s shoes inside the house as a present. The story doesn’t matter, at least not the revealing of what happened. What matters now is solving the case and catching this bastard. Emery’s in real danger, more danger than I even realized. I thought I would have time to track down the man responsible, but he’s already here and going for the kill. I’m sure he’s the man who took Cody tonight. Which is why I should be out there helping, not tied to the damn bed!” she snapped.

  The two men exchanged glances. “Do you think it would be wise to go out there in harm’s way where Emery will be worried about you? The kidnapper might get hold of you and use you against him. Did you ever think of that?”

  Stupidly, she hadn’t. She was so used to taking care of herself that the idea of her being used against anyone seemed so…unlikely.

  “Well, that’s what worried Emery, and that’s why he called us. So relax,” Royce chuckled. “I’m sure we can entertain you for a few hours.” He waggled his eyebrows teasingly, but Wes’s gaze was still frank with interest.

  Needing to change the subject and the sensual intensity of their stares, she tried another tact. “Can we watch TV or something? This is extremely awkward with you both just staring at me.”

  She prayed it might give her time to figure out how to escape them, or at the very least convince them to set her free and take her to Emery. There was no way she wanted to sit on the sidelines, not when she knew she could help rescue Cody. It wasn’t just that. She had a bad feeling. A chilling sense of dread crawled into her chest, burrowed into her heart and weighed her down.

  “I guess that would be okay. Football’s on tonight,” Royce replied.

  Wes was still watching her with far too much interest. Her body was all too aware of it. She was naked beneath the sheets, her wrists were chained to the headboard, and she’d been left alone in a room with two completely masculine men, both of whom made it clear they were interested in her. Why hadn’t Emery given her time to get dressed before he’d chained her to the bed if he knew these guys would be coming over?

  She hadn’t forgotten Royce’s comment about a ménage. She tried not to think about what it would be like trapped between him and Wes, sweaty bodies straining, and the soft rush of panting breaths. But as soon as the image was there, it faded beneath a more powerful image of Emery. His hands on her, his body trapping hers, sliding into her, silky and hard, invading her again and again.

  “She’s blushing,” Wes announced. One of his dark reddish-brown brows rose.

  “It’s probably because you’re staring at her like a hungry wolf, Wes. Ease up on her. She’s far too modest for you. I made a play for her, and she wouldn’t have it. She’s all for Emery.” Royce got off the bed and headed for the massive flat screen TV mounted on the wall opposite the bed.

  “Pity.” The dark focus of Wes’s cobalt blue eyes was as rich as the night sky and just as endless. He licked his lips, the action so positively seductive that her insides flipped and knotted uncomfortably.

  Save me from gorgeous sexy men. Sophie focused on slowing her breathing and trying to banish the heat from her cheeks.

  Royce was looking about for the TV remote when the door to the bedroom burst open.

  Faster than Sophie could blink, Royce and Wes were facing the door, guns raised. They had guns? She hadn’t even seen where they’d been keeping them. When she finally turned her head to the doorway, she grinned in relief. Both of her watch dogs muttered curses and put their guns away.

  “Hayden, what the hell were you doing? We could have shot you.” Wes started toward her. His handsome features were a mirror of Sophie’s friend’s, and she realized with shock that they had to be related. Brother and sister?

  Hayden Thorne kicked her lips up into a grin and strode in. She was all fire and sass, everything Sophie wished she was. Hayden had the luscious body of a 1940s starlet, with high cheekbones and expressive eyes beneath graceful winged brows and a tumbling mass of red hair that made her look like Rita Hayworth. She was the sort of woman that Sophie couldn’t even be jealous of, because she was too nice and too loyal, and still an ass kicker at the same time. She was one heck of a girl, and from the moment she’d bumped into Sophie in town a few weeks ago, they’d liked each other instantly.

  Hayden tossed her hair over her shoulders, ignoring the furious glares of both men.

  “Hi Sophie, I heard you needed rescuing from my brother and his pal.” Only then did she flick a scathing glance at Wes and Royce.

  “Hey, I’m not some pal. I used to babysit you.” Royce glowered thunderously. Hayden shot him a wicked grin, as though she’d spent all her life teasing him.

  “Babysit? You didn’t babysit me. You just sat on me. I distinctly remember you shoving my face into the dirt and pulling my hair. You’d never know you were eleven years older than me, not by the way you acted.” She stomped past them and put a knee onto the bed to reach Sophie’s wrists.

  “Now wait just a damn minute—” Wes grumbled low and warningly.

  Suddenly Hayden had a Taser aimed at her brother’s chest. “Don’t try to stop me, Wes. I’ve had a long day and tasing you and Royce would bring me too much pleasure.”

  Royce backed up a step, moving out of range. “Your sister sounds serious.”

  “Hayden, you’ll regret making me angry.” Wes’s tone was silky and dangerous. He crossed his arms over his chest, a move that reminded Sophie of Emery, and her heart kicked back into the rapid fire pulse of panic. They were wasting time arguing. They needed to get to Emery and Hans.

  “Oh yeah? What are you going to do, Wes? Nothing is more important than getting Sophie free and helping Emery. You men are too pigheaded to realize this is a trap. He and Hans are going to get killed unless we can get there in time.”

  “And how do you know what’s going on with Emery?” Wes demanded through clenched teeth. Sophie wasn’t often scared, but she admitted that Wes made her a tad nervous. Hayden simply shrugged off her brother’s obvious anger.

  “I bugged your phone months ago. Interesting phone sex, by the way. Ick.” Hayden shuddered theatrically but kept her Taser pointed at him while she used her other hand to unlock Sophie’s cuffs with a small key. Sophie couldn’t help but wonder why Hayden had a spare key ready.

  “I’ll be sure to start every conversation with something inappropriate,” Wes muttered.

  Royce laughed, a charming lopsided grin on his face. “So Hayden, I always had you pegged for a feisty submissive. Don’t tell me you’re secretly a
domme?”

  Wes sent a dark, blazing look at his friend. “What are you talking about?”

  All of Hayden’s bravado wavered in the wake of her brother’s thunderous question. Her creamy skin turned ashen. Royce gulped and looked away guiltily.

  “Hayden, what’s he talking about?” Wes started toward his sister, punishment gleaming in his eyes.

  Sophie chose that moment to intervene. “Um, Wes, not to be rude, but can we talk about this later? Emery’s in danger, remember?” She slid off the bed, collected her clothes, and held the sheet with a curled fist at her shoulders.

  The second she closed the bathroom door behind her she heard Wes yell.

  “What do you mean my sister’s a member of the Gilded Cuff?”

  Sophie winced in sympathy for Hayden.

  So much for keeping that little secret locked tight.

  As she scrambled into her clothes, hoping someone would know how to find Emery, the empty hole in her gut screamed disaster. Something awful was going to happen.

  Chapter 15

  THE BOY WAS QUICKLY IDENTIFIED AS EMERY LOCKWOOD. THE OFFICER WRAPPED A BLANKET AROUND THE BOY’S TINY SHOULDERS AND PUT HIM IN THE BACK OF THE SQUAD CAR, SECURING HIM SAFELY INSIDE BEFORE SEARCHING THE SURROUNDING WOODS FOR SUSPECTS AND THE OTHER MISSING CHILD.

  —New York Times, September 30, 1990

  I’m impressed, Cody. You’ve lasted much longer than I expected. A lesser man couldn’t talk with a leg, a few ribs and a hand broken.” Antonio’s accent had thickened after the heat of torture. “Perhaps I should have started slicing rather than smashing.” He lifted up a bowie knife. The yellow light from the overhead lamp flashed over the gleaming silver blade.

  Cody didn’t like that he’d impressed the bastard. Pain fogged his brain, making him wish he’d died an hour ago. But damn it, he kept finding strength somewhere. Between every crushing blow, he’d somehow rallied and stayed coherent. Of course, he was more aware of the pain he was in.

  If Hans had been here, he’d have told Cody to find his Zen place. Bullshit. Hans was a dead man if Cody ever survived this.

  Tears leaked down his cheeks, joining the cold sweat that had broken out over his body in the last ten minutes.

  Was he going into shock? He hoped so; anything would be better than how he felt right now.

  “Half an hour to midnight.” Antonio checked his watch and rose from his chair. “Well, I have something to see to before the grand finale.” He gaze dropped to Cody’s restraints and lingered. He flashed a malevolent smile. “Don’t go anywhere.” The look was so cruel, so full of evil, that Cody’s frantic pulse shot straight into hyperdrive. He had to remain calm.

  “Ha-ha,” he croaked. He’d lost his voice screaming a long time ago.

  Antonio pushed away from the table he’d been leaning against.

  “I would say it’s been a pleasure to know you, Cody, but I’m afraid you were always a means to an end. Emery will come for you. No doubt he’s tracking the bug you left behind. And when he gets here, my trap will snap shut.” He snapped his fingers, the sound echoing loudly off the empty white walls.

  “What?”

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you?” His captor’s face composed itself into one of mock innocence. “This warehouse is rigged to blow ten minutes after midnight. Emery will arrive just in time to find you and you won’t be able to warn him. He’ll think he has a chance to save you and get you out, but he won’t. It will be my greatest pleasure, killing him with hope.”

  Cody couldn’t breathe. His lungs burned when he dragged in a gasp. “What happened to the slit-my-throat plan?”

  “This is better. That little bastard has kept me busy for the last twenty-five years. Finally I can make my move. I know where Fenn is now and after Emery dies, I can leave this island and get on with the original plan.”

  Fenn? Cody dared not believe what he was hearing.

  “Since I’m going to die, just answer me one question. Where is Fenn?”

  Antonio studied him a long moment. Cody felt like a cow heading to the slaughterhouse.

  “Colorado.”

  “Holy shit,” Cody muttered. Emery’s twin was alive. Fenn was alive! Hope welled up in him like a clear spring filling with cold, crisp water. He had to survive, had to tell Emery.

  “You will die, Cody Larson. Do not be foolish enough to think you’ll come out of this alive. I would stick around to watch the fireworks, but I’ve got a flight to Colorado first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Cody sucked in a breath. After all the pain, the agony, the excruciating torture, he was getting somewhere, yet he was going to die before he could warn Emery.

  Fate was a cruel, two-faced bitch.

  Antonio gave him one last look of malicious glee before he left the room. Cody counted five minutes before he tried to move. During the torture, Antonio had retied his hands behind his back with the rope that bound his waist, and left his feet free. With a broken leg, it was probably smart to do at the time; Antonio probably figured Cody couldn’t kick out or run. Cody focused on wriggling until his left hand slid into the back pocket of his jeans. His fingers closed around his small Swiss Army pocket knife. He flicked open the largest blade and shifted his hold to start cutting the ropes binding his wrists. He cursed as the blade nicked the heel of his broken hand. Finally the rope loosened and dropped around his waist.

  He was free. He stifled a moan as blood rushed back to his injured hand. Using all the strength he had left he dragged himself to his feet, trying not to look down at the crooked angle of his shattered leg. Cody collapsed in the chair by the table and tapped the power button on the computer, bringing the screen to life. There was no time to look through whatever Antonio kept on here. Taking his pocketknife he tucked the blade back in and flicked out the USB memory stick. It clicked into place and he opened the drive. There was only one file on the memory stick. A program he’d designed called “Echo.” It would copy the entire hard drive at a rapid pace and back it up to a cloud. He’d be able to see everything Antonio had been up to.

  “Come on,” he growled as the program started to run. He checked his watch and grimaced. Ten minutes to midnight.

  The second the program was done he jerked the USB out. It was only then that he noticed the small icon at the bottom of the screen. Another program was running. He clicked on it and his breath whooshed out of his lungs. A countdown clock was ticking away. Only it wasn’t counting to midnight, but to detonation.

  Five minutes.

  “Shit!” He lunged from the chair, biting back a shout of pain as his broken leg gave out beneath him. If he could drag it behind him, he might be able to limp out of here. Antonio wasn’t coming back. No one would be here to stop him, if he could just get out in time…

  Tears blurred his eyes as pain and fear raged inside him like the fires of his own personal hell. His damn leg…couldn’t…couldn’t…

  His body betrayed him just outside the door and he went down.

  I’m sorry, Emery.

  * * *

  “What is this place?” Emery asked as he and Hans pulled up in front of a dark two-story factory on the edge of town. The windows were all smoky gray with the haze of the factory’s pollution. One pale yellow light stood out in the sea of dark glass. A figure moved past the light, catching both Emery’s and Hans’s attention.

  “It’s one of the old breweries, I think.” Hans pulled out his gun.

  Emery glanced at his cell phone, focused on the blinking dot. The signal from the bug on Cody’s desk was coming from inside.

  “Let’s go. We don’t have time to waste. Cody could be in there.” Emery didn’t say what they were both thinking. He might already be dead and they were too late.

  He and Hans stepped out of the car and started toward the darkened brewery. The main door was locked but Hans aimed his Beretta at the lock and shot it out. They had wanted the element of surprise in case Cody’s kidnapper was still around, but there was no time.

  The
main floor of the factory was empty and quiet. A solitary set of stairs led up to the upper floor, where they’d seen the light coming from when they’d gotten out of the car. Hans led the way, gun up and ready. They moved together, silent as predators tracking prey. After years of living with Hans, Emery had picked up his bodyguard’s ability to move soundlessly and quickly. They both knew that any sound they made could betray their presence and get Cody killed.

  At the top of the stairs they caught a glimpse of light at the end of the hall. Bathed half in light and half in shadow, was a body.

  “Cody!” Emery cursed softly and shoved past Hans. All instincts fled, all rational thought vanished.

  Cody. He was the only thing he could think about. He skidded to a halt and knelt by his friend’s side. For a brief, heart-stopping second, he thought the young man was dead. Then Cody groaned softly. Emery turned him over and took in the sight of Cody’s bruised face, torn short, bloody hand, and the unnatural angle of his leg.

  Whoever had done this would pay. Dearly.

  “Damn, kid, what happened?” Hans growled as he assessed Cody’s injuries.

  Cody’s eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused as he looked between Hans and Emery. Pain fogged his expression as he struggled to speak.

  “Gotta…go…guys.” Then his eyes rolled back into his head.

  “Shit, he’s in shock. We’ve got to get him out of here.” Hans grabbed Cody’s body and with a mighty heave, lifted him up over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

  “Get him to the hospital and come back for me,” Emery said as he checked his own gun and eyed the open door where the only source of light slithered out from the shadows.

  Hans paused, hesitation and wariness in his gaze. “Emery…”

  “Hans, we always knew it would come to this. I’m not asking you to save him. I’m telling you. So get the hell out of here.”

  In that silent moment, Hans studied him with a mixture of pride and regret. After twenty-five years, this could be the end of the line and they both knew it.