Sacrifice

by Denise Grover Swank

  He silently cursed, pissed that he’d thought about Iraq. That shit was better left in the past.

  But why couldn’t he remember the job? Tranquilizers knocked you out. They didn’t steal your memory. Had someone slipped him a roofie? Will couldn’t even remember the last time he ate or drank.

  What the hell happened before he found himself in the woods, and why was he with that woman?

  What little he saw of her in the moonlight, she didn’t seem his type. She was short and brunette, not to mention she was wearing an old-fashioned white nightgown splattered in blood.

  Panic stole his breath at the thought of her being hurt.

  What the fuck? Why would he care about some random woman? He stopped caring about women years ago. Or anyone else, for that matter.

  A nagging unease chewed at the edges of his brain, and there was no denying it had nothing to with him being captured and bound.

  He was losing it.

  Think, Will. What do you remember before the woman?

  An empty crevice stretched in his mind, but he continued pushing back until he stumbled upon a foggy scene. He was accepting a job that offered a lot of money.

  Why couldn’t he remember what it was?

  Someone stepped over him toward the jump seats. “Has he moved at all?”

  “Nope. Out like a light,” a voice shouted. “That dart was loaded and would keep an elephant down for a week. He ain’t going nowhere.”

  “He’s gonna wish he could sleep forever when Kramer gets done with him.”

  Kramer? Who was Kramer? He couldn’t remember any Kramers from any past jobs, but honestly, there’d been too many men to keep track of them all. Not to mention his clients often went by fake names. It crossed his mind that he’d pissed off the husband of one of the many women he’d screwed, but he just as quickly dismissed it. How many husbands had military cargo planes at their disposal?

  Military cargo plane.

  Shit, did this have something to do with his history in the Marines?

  The plane sloped forward.

  “You better take a seat,” one of the men warned. “We’re gonna land soon and they said it’s a pretty short runway.”

  “What about him?”

  “So what if he slides around a bit? He’ll be out for hours. He can add the bumps and bruises to all the others he’s going to wake up to.”

  Will started a mental tally of who to get even with once he broke loose. Opening his eyelids a slit, he decided that the stockier guy was the first dipshit on the list.

  The plane descended and Will slid across the floor, banging into a metal box that jabbed his shoulder blade, but he kept up the unconscious ruse. The guards would be less cautious and he could use it to his advantage. Once they landed, he needed to be ready to bolt. Too bad his hands were bound with handcuffs instead of rope or zip ties.

  The plane touched down and bounced as Will’s body slid the opposite direction. One of the men stomped on his back and Will bit the inside of his cheek to keep from flinching. “Where do you think you’re going, buddy?”

  The men laughed.

  Now both assholes were on his shit list.

  Once the plane came to a halt, they grabbed his shirt at the top of his shoulders and slid him across the floor toward the cargo opening. As the back door lowered, Will cracked his eyes open enough to see it was still dark. And that he faced an empty tarmac.

  He could use that to his advantage too.

  The two men dragged him to the sloping edge. Before they started down the ramp, Will tucked his legs and bolted upright, jerking out of the two stunned men’s holds. He gave a hard kick in the knee to the man on his right who had stomped on his shoulder. The other man regained his senses and lifted his gun, but Will kicked it out of his hands and planted his heel in the man’s abdomen. The guard doubled over in pain.

  Will made it down the cargo ramp and onto the pavement before light flooded the airstrip. He stumbled and came face to face with over a dozen men pointing semi-automatic weapons toward him.

  Shit.

  A dark-haired man in a suit walked through the gunmen, his gaze on Will. He clapped, a slow, methodical applaud, while a mocking smile spread across his face. “Bravo, Mr. Davenport. You entertain me every time we meet.”

  Will lifted an eyebrow, trying to place him. “Have we met?”

  The man laughed, but it sounded hard and cold. “You’re on a roll, Will. But enough of this nonsense. Where’s Emmanuella?”

  This guy had to be Kramer. “Who?”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve always been cocky, which has its time and place. But now is the time to cooperate. I’ve grown weary of your games.”

  “Then that makes two of us,” Will spat. “Because I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  Kramer pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. “I’d really hoped you’d learned by now, Will. I have to admit that after our last encounter I’ll take pleasure in having you at my mercy.”

  A chill ran down Will’s spine. Why did this man think he knew him? And if Will did, why couldn’t he remember?

  Kramer turned and walked through the armed men. “Take him to the holding cells and keep eight armed guards on him at all times. He’s not to be underestimated.”

  Shit. What had he gotten into now?

  ***

  Emma roused, sitting in a chair with something strapped against her lap, holding her in place. Her eyes flew open in alarm as she flinched, her hands gripping chair arms.

  “It’s okay. You’re safe.” Raphael patted her hand.

  Her breath came in short pants as she surveyed her surroundings. They were in a small luxury jet with only two rows of seats and a bench seat along a side wall. She was strapped into a seat, with Raphael in the seat across the aisle. The other seats were empty.

  She turned her face to him, her heart thumping wildly against her ribcage. “What happened? How did we get here?”

  “You created a raging forest fire, much like the one in Minnesota. Unfortunately, it didn’t kill Alex, only deterred him long enough for us to get away.” Raphael’s finger lightly stroked the back of her hand. “You used too much energy and passed out. One of the first things you need to learn is how to control your energy flow. It’s amazing you haven’t killed yourself by now.”

  Her head ached and her mouth was dry, as though she had a really bad hangover. She needed Will’s touch. He always helped her through this part, after she’d done too much.

  Will.

  The pain hit her full force, sucking her breath as she gasped. “Will…” The tears gushed without permission and she lowered her face into her hands, wailing.

  Raphael unbuckled her seatbelt and pulled her from her seat. She collapsed into him, her legs giving out.

  Will. Her pain hemorrhaged with her violent sobs.

  “I know, love. I know.” He held her to his chest, stroking the back of her head. His languid warmth seeped into her, soothing the pain.

  “No!” She jerked back, tripping on the frame of the seat behind her. She refused to betray Will, especially now.

  Raphael reached out to steady her, but she swung out of his reach.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  “Emma—”

  “NO!” she screamed, taking another step back, her loose nightgown twisting around her legs. Frantic, she swung her head, searching for a way to escape. She spotted a door in front of the first row.

  Alarm filled Raphael’s eyes. “Emma, I know you’re upset and you see me as your enemy right now, but we’re thirty-five thousand feet in the air.”

  She didn’t care. She’d rather plummet to her death than succumb to Raphael’s pull again. Her muscles tensed, prepared to leap for the door.

  “Emma, don’t do anything—”

  She bolted, barely getting past him before his fingers dug into her arm. He pulled her against his chest, a fire in his eyes. “I know you’ll hate me for this when you wake up, but hopefully you
’ll thank me for it later.”

  His lips lowered to hers and he kissed her with his pent-up frustration. To her agony, she answered his call, giving herself to him. The familiar fuzziness filled her head and she sagged before his arm tightened around her back, holding her to his chest.

  He continued to kiss her until she was aware of nothing but him. Then he laid her down on a seat, tucking a blanket around her and smoothing her hair. “Don’t worry, Emma. Everything will be all right.”

  His words were faint and far away, but she wondered how could anything be all right without Will.

  ***

  The guards escorted Will into a cargo van. Looking through the back window, he could see that they drove past a small compound surrounded by a chain-link fence, then through a guard station with wooden gates. One gate was unpainted and looked as if it had recently been replaced. He almost laughed. What the hell kind of security was that?

  A heaviness filled his chest, nearly suffocating him with grief. He held his breath in an attempt to slow his racing heart. What the hell was going on with him? Will shoved his fear into the recesses of his mind. If he was going to get out of this, he needed a clear head.

  No streetlights lit the road so he wasn’t sure where they were until the vehicle stopped and the back doors opened. Six guards fell in around the back of the van as the four armed guards inside escorted him out. As flattered as he was, Will wished they’d underestimated him instead.

  They paraded down a sidewalk and stopped at one of the middle buildings, taking Will through the front doors and to an elevator bank in an office lobby. A security guard at the front desk eyed Will with distrust.

  An uneasy sense of déjà vu swept through him, making him hesitate. “I don’t really care much for elevators. I’m a bit claustrophobic.”

  The guard on his right curled his lip but remained silent.

  Will couldn’t let them see his apprehension. Everyone had a part to play and his was the cocksure asshole. He checked their uniforms for stripes and found none. “You boys Army? Marines?”

  “Freelance,” the man on his left said.

  One of the other guards elbowed him.

  He winked. “Freelance, huh? Whaddaya know? So am I. Maybe we can work out some kind of arrangement.”

  The men remained silent.

  “So that guy out on the airstrip—was he Kramer?”

  The man on his right shifted his eyes as though Will were crazy.

  The elevator door opened and someone dug a gun tip into Will’s back and pushed. “Enough chitchat. Playing stupid isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

  Six men packed the small space with Will, pressing him against the back wall. “So where are we? Some secret government facility?”

  The guard who had been on his left shook his head. “Like you don’t know. You’ve busted out of here twice. Last night you stole a plane and crash-landed it in Wyoming.”

  “Mitchell, shut up,” one of the men grunted.

  Will turned to face the talkative guard. “Mitchell, is it? I think you’ve got the wrong man. Seems to me I’d remember stealing a plane.” Will grinned. “Although it does sound like something I’d do. Always go for the dramatic exit.” Which was a lie. Covert was always better. “What was I here for anyway?” The question released the anxiety he’d held at bay, catching him by surprise. Someone was in danger and he needed to save him. Or her.

  Mitchell pressed his lips together in a scowl.

  The elevator doors opened and the group filed out. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead.

  Will angled his head to the ceiling. “Nice touch, fellows. A-plus for creepy effects.”

  Four armed men flanked a door in the hallway. Will was deeper in the building, surrounded by ten men total, and his hands were still cuffed behind his back.

  One of the guards opened a steel-plated door, the hinges creaking.

  “Can I at least know what I’m being held for?” Will asked over his shoulder as they pushed him through the opening.

  The slammed door was his answer.

  “Hey! At least take these fucking handcuffs off.”

  The door remained closed and Will turned to inventory the room. A flimsy metal frame and a bare mattress. A metal toilet. Four rectangular small vents close to the ceiling on two opposite walls. No chairs. No sink. No window. That made things trickier.

  Surrendering to underlying panic that had nothing to do with his own safety, he sat on the bed, the frame sagging beneath his weight. He closed his eyes and tried to sort out his mess of emotions. Fear. Worry. Love.

  Love?

  And all those feelings spiked whenever he pictured the woman in the woods. Was she Emmanuella? Just the thought of her name tightened his chest with dread. Who the hell was she?

  He sucked in a deep breath, his body twitching with distress. A new fear slid in to join the existing one. Will was a man used to being in control. He’d not only slipped down the ladder of control, he was on the bottom rung about to fall off. He had to get a grip and he had to figure out where all these emotions came from.

  There was little doubt he’d been on a job and he must have failed, which was why he was here now. The woman in the woods must have been the job. Concentrating on the phone call, he remembered that he was supposed to bring a woman to South Dakota for a ridiculous amount of money. The memory spiked his anxiety and his breath caught in his throat, sending his heart racing. He fought to stifle the panic and his mind instinctively retreated to a familiar behavior that had been his mind’s coping mechanism during extreme situations in Iraq.

  He thought of his mother.

  Given the sting of her rejection three years ago, concentrating on happy times as a child with his mom only made his terror worse. His mind scrambled to find another buoy. It wasn’t an image, only a feeling, yet much more powerful.

  Belonging.

  Choking back a sob of surprise, he clung tight, overwhelmed with the power of the feeling, the one thing he’d craved his entire life. He didn’t question where it came from, only that he knew it was real and it was his. It lapped through him, filling him with a sense of calm.

  Belonging to what? Or who?

  The image of the woman appeared along with a fresh wave of emotions. On the brink of tears, an overwhelming urge to save her filled every part of his head and his panic returned. She was in danger and he couldn’t do anything to help her. He’d never felt like this about anyone in his entire life and his hysteria was tied to a woman he didn’t even know.

  Calm down. They’ve fucked with your head.

  He took a few quick breaths as he twisted the idea like a puzzle piece, trying to make it fit with what little he knew. That had to be it. If his feelings were real, he’d remember her. Remember her fucking name, for God’s sake. Maybe he’d been the guinea pig of some new mind-control project he didn’t know about. Will liked the idea, as farfetched as it seemed. If only because the other alternative was one he couldn’t face: he was losing his mind.

  She was a figment of his imagination, or at least his feelings were. The only person who needed saving was himself.

  Working his hands under the edge of the mattress, he groped for loose metal pieces to unlock the cuffs. It took him ten minutes before he found a section that had any give. Concentrating on a task returned some clarity to his head. He needed to focus on the situation he was in now. The frame was entirely too new, as was the mattress, which told him that the holding cells were rarely used. If at all.

  Why had he been escorted to a compound in the middle of nowhere and placed in a cell that rarely saw prisoners?

  He bent the thin metal stick of the frame back and forth, spinning it around.

  Kramer knew whom he was, calling him by name, which in itself was disconcerting. Will rarely gave his real last name. Aliases worked best, considering the company he tended to keep in his business. The fact that Kramer knew his real name let him know that this wasn’t a case of mistaken identity. But Will had never bee
n here before and he’d sure as hell remember stealing a plane the night before.

  The terror and panic returned. Focus on the task at hand. One step at a time. His anxiety retreated, hovering in the background.

  The piece snapped and Will looked over his shoulder to angle it to the keyhole. It took several attempts to insert the shard into the locking mechanism, but after a few quick jerks and twists, the cuff popped open on his left hand. He rotated his arms to the front and freed himself from the other restraint.

  He got up and moved around the room. Pressing his ear to the door, he heard muffled voices filter through the metal, but he couldn’t make out any words.

  Will realized he wasn’t going anywhere. The space offered no chance of escape. Even the door hinges were on the outside.

  With a grunt of frustration, he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. He had no idea how long it would be until someone came back, but he figured he should get all the sleep he could beforehand.

  He had the feeling he was going to need it.

  Chapter Three

  Jake stirred. Something in his memory tickled his consciousness. A shadow almost, it hovered at the edge, teasing him with the feeling of something forgotten. Something important.

  His eyes opened as the haze burned away and he found himself in a room, laying on the edge of a bed clutching Rusty, his stuffed dog.

  “Señor Jake, you’re awake.” An older woman sat in the corner, knitting a scarf.

  Mommy had tried to knit once, a long time ago. The thought of her sent a pain through his stomach. Where was she?

  The woman set her yarn and needles in a basket on the floor. “My name is Maria and I’m here to take care of you. Are you hungry?”

  He sat up, his anger building. He said that he was taking Jake to see his mother. “Where’s my mommy?”