by Ravenna Tate
“Is that one of the same fucking vans or not?” she shouted. “We need to get out of here!”
“It’s the first one.” He turned around, grabbed her arm with his free hand, and shouted at her to run. They didn’t make it two steps before she heard the doors open on the van and footsteps rushing behind them. She was too afraid to process what was happening. This couldn’t be real. They were on a busy city street, for fuck’s sake! Was no one watching this happen?
A loud cry escaped her lips. Jagger’s hand was so damp it started to slip from her grasp. Or was that because her palm was suddenly wet? She could hardly breathe. Her lungs actually hurt when she tried to take a breath.
Someone grabbed Jagger next to her, and she screamed, trying to keep her grip on his hand. Another person grabbed her and tossed into the van. She landed on her right side, and a shooting pain went straight to her head. It hurt so badly she had to fight to stay conscious.
Next to her, Jagger was holding his left side, and it was obvious he was in pain. She glanced around for his phone, but it was gone. The van sped away and she sat up, and that’s when she realized there were three men in the back with them.
“What the fuck is going on? Who are you?”
One of the men slapped her across the face, hard. “Shut up, you stupid bitch.” She gasped in pain and couldn’t stop the tears that spilled over her eyelids. Jagger was on the guy, and actually had his hands around the man’s throat before the other two pulled him off. One of them punched Jagger in the gut, and Carolyn cried out in fear.
“Stop that! Leave him alone!” She tried to reach Jagger, but the man who had slapped her grabbed her around the shoulders from behind and pinned her arms.
“Who are you?” Carolyn tried to turn around to see his face, but he held her too tightly. “What the hell do you want?” She watched Jagger carefully. He was okay. In pain, but he was breathing and moving.
“What the fuck do you hope to accomplish by this?” Jagger’s voice came out in short gasps, but it was the tone that sent alarm bells ringing in her head. He knew them. He knew who they were.
The man who had punched Jagger stared him down as the van careened through the streets of Chicago. He had a nasty smirk on his face, and it was clear he recognized Jagger as well.
“You shoulda left it alone,” he said.
“Fuck you, Nate. Guess you’re not in Madrid, after all.”
Nate … Nate Hoffmayer? Oh holy fuck. Were these the men who had pulled the job with Jagger all those years ago? Carolyn studied Nate’s face, and suddenly realized it was him. Older than she remembered, but it was definitely the man she’d met when she’d been thirteen. She swallowed hard, trying to tamp down her fear and loathing.
“What do you want?” she asked again.
The man who held her from behind hissed in her ear, “I told you to shut the fuck up!”
Carolyn fought against a sudden urge to puke. Even the horrible memories of being trapped in the segregation cell during a tornado warning weren’t as frightening as this.
“Say that to her again, Kurt, and I will rip your fucking lungs out.”
She let out a shaky gasp at the sound of Jagger’s voice. She’d never heard him speak in that tone, dripping with venom and utter conviction. She wanted to kiss him in the worst way, and fresh tears sprang to her eyes.
No man had ever defended her. She was in love with Jagger. No doubt about it.
The man holding her snorted. “You and whose army?”
“What are you, ten years old?” Jagger’s beautiful blue eyes flashed with hate. The man holding her must be Kurt Smithers. She glanced toward the other one, struggling to put a name to the face. She’d never met any of them except Nate, but Uncle Tony had showed her pictures. Plus, they’d all been in the news stories after the robbery.
“You’re not in control here,” said Kurt.
A name popped into her head, just like that. Maury DeLaine. That’s who the third man was. But who was driving the van? Were there two men up there, or only one? Carolyn couldn’t see into the front seat. The window between the back and the front seats was too dirty. The back window that wasn’t painted over was filthy, too, so she had no clue where they were right now.
Again she tried to see into the front seat. Fresh nausea washed over her as a sickening possibility filled her mind. There was only one way to find out. “Is my uncle waiting for us somewhere, or is he sitting up front?”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” said Nate. He sounded caught off guard, but the satisfaction she’d guessed right gave her no thrill. How could Uncle Tony have done this to her?
A look of understanding filled Jagger’s eyes as he glanced toward her. He cut his gaze toward Kurt, behind her. “You might as well tell her the truth. She knows who all of you are, and everyone here knows Tony isn’t dead.”
Nate and Maury gave each other cautious glances, and Carolyn was certain her heart would stop. Her uncle was part of this kidnapping. No. It couldn’t be true, but why else would they look at each other that way?
Helplessness washed over her. She glanced toward Jagger, hoping the answer would be in his eyes, but his attention was focused on each of the men. He gave them a dark glance one by one before cutting his gaze behind her again. “Let her go, Kurt. And if you hit her again, I’ll rip off the hand that does it, and make you fucking eat it.”
Kurt released her, but as he did he pushed her good and hard, and she fell. “Fuck you, Jagger.”
Pain shot up her right side once more as she landed on it. Because she hated letting them realize they’d hurt her, she winced and bit her lip in an effort to keep from crying out again. Jagger moved next to her, and this time no one tried to stop him.
“Are you all right?”
“I don’t know. What about you?”
“I’ll be fine.” He glanced toward Kurt. “That all you guys can say? ‘Fuck you?’ How about telling us why the hell you kidnapped us.”
“How about telling us why the fuck you ratted us out, Jagger?” Spittle flew from Maury’s mouth as he shouted at Jagger.
“I never ratted you out, you fucking idiot. If Tony told you that, he lied to you.”
“Bullshit,” said Maury. “Then why’d you get out so much earlier?”
“I don’t know. Maybe ‘cause I wasn’t fucking everything that moved like you were busy doing.”
The other two laughed, and Carolyn gave Jagger’s hand a squeeze. She couldn’t help noticing how large his pupils were, and the fine sheen of sweat on his face. They’d hurt him tossing him in here, and he was in a lot of pain. She just knew it. It killed her that there was nothing she could do to help him.
“Who’s driving?” asked Jagger. “It that Tony up there? Or Joey Amato, perhaps?”
“Don’t matter,” said Nate. “Shut the fuck up.”
“He’s the one who got us all convicted. Acting like a fucking tourist at the same fucking museum we planned to rob. If anyone gave our names to the Feds, it was Joey.”
“Yeah, and who made more of a fuss about that than you, Jagger?” Spittle flew from Maury’s mouth again as he yelled.
“You fucking idiot. Of course I made a fuss over it. The fucking tattoos are what led the FBI straight to each of us.”
“You really hurt him,” said Carolyn. She was tired of listening to them argue about this. They had made up their minds about Jagger, and this conversation in the back of a speeding van wasn’t going to change them. He needed medical attention. “He needs a doctor.”
“He’s not getting—”
Kurt stopped in mid-sentence as the unmistakable wail of police sirens reached their ears. The sound was very close, and within seconds Carolyn saw the flashing lights through the back window. This time, she didn’t hold back her smile.
Next to her, Jagger chuckled softly. “Looks like the game is up already, boys. The cavalry is here.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The pain in Jagger’s left side prevented
him from taking full breaths. He had a broken rib or two. No doubt about it. But he had to told hold it together for Carolyn’s sake. And once he healed, he’d bust Kurt’s jaw for that nasty bruise he’d put on her beautiful face.
“For fuck’s sake!” shouted Nate, pounding on the window between the back of the van and the front seats. “Drive faster!”
As if that would matter. Jagger heard sirens on both sides and behind them. They weren’t getting out of this. When he saw Tim again, he’d give him a raise and a piece of jewelry from the collection he had squirreled away. He’d come through in a huge way today.
The split second decision to call his attorney instead of 911 had been made because Tim knew the full story. Trying to explain to a dispatcher who the guys were in the van, and why there were about to take him and Carolyn, would have taken too long.
“They’re everywhere.” Maury’s voice shook as he glanced out the back window, and Jagger had to fight not to laugh again. “Son of a bitch! Tell him to pull over!”
“No fucking way,” said Nate. He pounded on the window again, along with Kurt. “Keep going! Get on the highway.”
“Yeah,” Carolyn muttered, under her breath. “Get on the highway. That way you’ll be stuck in traffic.” She was clutching her right side in a way that made Jagger nervous. If they had done anything else to hurt her, he’d fucking kill all of them. Slowly.
The idiot driving the van actually tried to outrun the cops for about ten minutes before finally pulling over. The three men in the back had no weapons, and for that Jagger was very grateful. It meant he and Carolyn wouldn’t end up shot or dead. It was only bad because now the charge would only be kidnapping instead of aggravated kidnapping.
Outside, one of the cops used a bullhorn to tell everyone to come out with their hands up. Jagger knew the men inside this van too well to think they’d give in that easily. They’d taken an enormous risk by doing this, and they weren’t going down without a fight, guns or no guns.
Unless Jagger wanted him and Carolyn to end up hurt worse than they were already were, he had to take the upper hand here. A look passed between him and Carolyn, and Jagger’s heart nearly stopped at the love in her eyes. He’d never even been close falling in love. He’d avoided it all his life. But he’d be damned five ways to Friday if love wasn’t exactly what he felt for this woman.
Hoping like hell she could read minds after all, he gave her a quick wink. Then he swept his right leg toward the two fools still focused on the window between the driver and the back of the van.
Nate and Kurt were thrown off balance long enough for Jagger to punch Maury in his doughy face. As soon as Maury went down, Jagger pushed open the back doors. He grabbed Carolyn, and they tumbled to the pavement. She cried out in pain and he saw stars, but at least they were out of the van.
Three cops rushed toward them, and the rest of the police invaded the van. Jagger caught sight of Tim, standing close to one of the cops, and gave him a weak grin. It was over. They were safe now.
As the cops escorted him and Carolyn away from the van, Jagger turned around to watch who the other officers dragged from the front seats. Next to him, he heard Carolyn gasp. She was watching, too, and his heart leapt for joy. There was only person in the front. He’d been right about Joey Amato driving the van.
But where was Tony? Had he played a part in this or not? While Jagger was thrilled for Carolyn’s sake that Tony wasn’t here, she still had no answers.
****
The pain in Jagger’s side had intensified by the time he and Carolyn were inside the main FBI office on West Roosevelt Road. He told the agent escorting them that he suspected he had broken ribs, and she said she’d call the paramedics, but that they’d be here a while. There were questions to answer.
So much for compassion. Anger rose up again as Jagger eyed the bruise on the left side of Carolyn’s face. He’d better have the chance to confront Kurt before his ass was hauled off to jail, because he owed him something for doing that to the woman Jagger loved.
“Wait in here.”
They were shown into an office with an impressive view of the city. As soon as they were alone, Jagger tried to pull Carolyn into an embrace, but the pain was too great. Instead, he wiped the tears off her face. “Don’t cry. I’m all right.”
“No, you’re not. You need a doctor.” She went to open the door to the hallway, but it was locked from the outside. “Dammit! Why are they treating us like fucking prisoners?”
“They don’t have all the info yet.” Jagger sat down before he fainted. “It will be okay.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” Just as Carolyn was about to pound on the door, it opened, and she moved aside to let in a pair of paramedics and their gear. “It’s about time.”
They ignored her comment as they pushed past her. Jagger shot her what he hoped was a grateful look. She was scared and concerned for him, and that made him want to leap for joy. If only he could right now.
“See to her face, too, if you would please. And something is wrong with her right side.”
“I’m okay,” she said.
“You first,” said the paramedic closest to him. “I’m told you have broken ribs.”
“Sure feels that way.” Jagger was poked and prodded, and he grit his teeth against the pain, even while knowing it was necessary.
“Any allergies to food or medications?”
“None.”
“Can’t tell for certain without an X-ray, but I think you’re right.” The paramedic spoke to someone via cell phone while the other one sat down with Carolyn. Jagger was relieved to see they were at least going to look at her.
“I can give you something for the pain, but as soon as the FBI allows it, you need to get that side X-rayed.”
“Will do. Is she all right?”
“She’s fine,” said the paramedic with Carolyn. “She’ll have a nasty bruise, but nothing is broken.”
“What about her side?”
“I don’t believe she has any broken ribs. Only a bad muscle pull.”
Kurt would still pay for touching her, if Jagger had anything to say about it. Once the shot the paramedic had given Jagger kicked in, he could at least take a full breath. Carolyn came over to sit with him after the paramedics left. He only wished he could hold her.
“How are you now?”
“Better. You’re here.” He brushed a hand down her face, and the love in her eyes took his breath away. Was it possible she felt the same way about him? Even if she did, how on earth could this work? They were both so fucked up it wasn’t even funny. And now, they had this goddamn mess hanging over their heads.
The kind thing to do would be to let her go. Let her land one of those jobs and go on with her life. He was poison now. These weren’t the kind of guys who would give up. Not after doing something like this. He’d be running from them the rest of his life, and if she was with him, she’d always be in danger of their retaliation as well.
“Jagger, did my uncle do this or not?”
“I don’t know.” Jagger had a few theories about whether or not Tony was involved, but he was getting too sleepy now to think about them. Probably from the pain meds.
It seemed like hours passed before the door finally opened again. Jagger felt a rush of renewed energy as three agents in suits strolled in.
The man in front spoke first. “I’m Special Agent in Charge Norman Saunders.” He pointed toward the woman on his left, then indicated the man on his right. “This is Agent Lea Bramwell and Agent McKay Thompson.”
They sat across from him and Carolyn, but where was Tim? “I want my attorney.”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Norman. “This isn’t an interrogation.”
“I’d still feel better if he were here.”
A slight smile graced Norman’s face. “Mr. Tyrell, he’s not coming into the room yet. Be grateful we let you two stay together for now. We have questions, beginning with how you both ended up in the same place,
at the same time.”
“Where is Tim?” Jagger glanced around. There was a one-way mirror he hadn’t noticed before on the wall to his left. “Is he watching?”
The agents exchanged glances, and Norman sighed softly. “Answer the question, please.”
There were only two choices. Answer their questions, or risk getting him and Carolyn arrested. It would be stupid on his part to risk the latter. “It started when I got a call out of the blue from Nate Hoffmayer, about three weeks ago.”
“Did you know about the robbery at the Art Institute by then?” asked Lea.
“Yes. It had been on the news all day. I also knew about the image with the tattoo.” He didn’t see any point in pretending that didn’t exist.
“Why did he call you?”
“I honestly have no clue. I asked him, and he started babbling about how I was the only one of them living in Chicago, and they’d pick me up first.”
“Did you know he’d helped pull the job when he called you?”
Before he answered McKay’s question, Jagger exchanged a glance with Carolyn, who looked as surprised as he did at that revelation. “Not until now. The number indicated he was calling from out of the country.”
“He was,” said Norman. “But he came back.”
“Is that when you started watching them all?” asked Carolyn.
The corners of Lea’s mouth turned up. “No, we were on this before that. But since you asked, why did you lie to the police that same day?”
“Wouldn’t it be easier if you simply told us what you already know?” asked Jagger. “We could fill in the blanks.”
As Jagger expected she would, Lea ignored him and kept her gaze on Carolyn. “Answer the question.”
“I didn’t know I was lying when I told them the man in the picture was Jagger. Uncle Tony swore to me it was.”
“She was protecting him,” said Jagger. “And he’d already served his time when he faked his death. Carolyn didn’t commit a crime by keeping that a secret.”
“You’re correct,” said Lea. She glanced toward Carolyn again. “What else did your uncle ask you to do for him?”
