by Diana Duncan
"Leo call?" he asked hoarsely.
"No."
He thrust his fingers through his wet hair as he brushed past her. The bathroom door slammed behind him. The shower kicked on with a hiss.
Her knees collapsed, and she sank to the sofa. She stared at the bloody footprints on the ivory carpet. He'd built a wall of ice between them, and she didn't know how to break through. Struggling for control, she sucked in deep breaths as she stumbled to the kitchen to make breakfast.
He's threatened, scared, and he's put up his defense shield. Give him time and space.
When he exited the bathroom ten minutes later, she'd herded her emotions into line. She turned down the heat under the scrambled eggs. "Breakfast will be ready in five," she called.
He strode into the kitchen wearing clean jeans and a black T-shirt, his hair still damp, feet bare. The sight of his bruised, torn feet nearly unraveled her, and she swallowed hard. "There's toast and juice, too." Again, it took every iota of self-discipline she owned, but her voice emerged level.
They ate in strained silence. He wolfed his food, but every bite stuck in her throat. They'd just finished when his phone chirped. He snatched it up and sprinted to his room.
Acid roiled in her stomach. To keep busy, she stacked the dishes in the dishwasher.
Five minutes crawled by before he returned. Stocking-footed, he carried his sneakers in one hand, a gun and a deadly looking notched knife in the other. He dropped the weapons on the sofa, sat, and shoved his feet into the shoes. The rough movements had to hurt, but he didn't seem to notice. "Time to go to work."
"Leo," she croaked. "Where are you meeting him?"
He didn't even look up. "That's on a need-to-know basis."
Ah, the warrior was charging into battle and the first order of business was to stash the lovesick woman safely out of the way. If she wasn't so worried, she'd smack him upside the head. "What if you need help?"
Gabe stood, shoved the gun in his waistband, then sheathed the knife at his ankle. He shrugged on his black leather jacket. "If you don't hear from me in two hours, call the number I gave you before. Say the package was damaged in transit. The routing invoice is fifty-one, twelve dash thirty-three. They'll know I'm in trouble and my location." He stalked to the front door.
"Wait."
He paused with his hand on the knob.
"Be—" She couldn't help it, her voice broke. "Be careful."
He stared at her, expressionless. Gabe, but not Gabe. With none of the warmth, none of the laughter. None of the vitality. None of the qualities that made her so desperately love the man who silently yanked open the door and walked away.
The growl of his motorcycle ripped the morning apart. The rumble grew softer, then faded. Fighting stupid, useless tears, she stared at the bloodstained carpet. Gabe's blood. I should clean that before the stain sets. As she trudged to the kitchen for cleaning supplies, Gabe's cell phone rang. She pivoted and sprinted down the hall to Gabe's room to snatch up the phone. "Hello?"
"Tessa?"
At first she didn't recognize the frantic whisper. "Peter? Is that you? What's wrong?"
"Stop your cousin," Peter's panicked words tumbled into her ear. "Don't let him meet Leo this morning."
Icy fear clawed up her spine. She dropped the receiver and tore to the front door, but Gabe had already disappeared. Breathless, she raced back to the phone. "He already left."
"Oh, no! I'm in a phone booth near the Blue Moon. I just met with Leo. I forgot my jacket, and when I went back, I overheard Leo and Vic talking. The meeting is a trap. They're going to kill Val."
The room spun, and she nearly heaved up her breakfast. She thrust out a shaky hand to lean on the wall. "Did they say where?"
"A fishing trawler docked beside the Coast Seafood warehouse on the waterfront. The Lady Liberty. It's Leo's base of operations. I heard him say something about 'the boat,' so I'm sure that's it. I'm calling 9-1-1."
"Absolutely no police! They're involved! I'll go warn him."
"Tessa, no, don't! It's too dangerous!"
The phone went dead in her hand. She stuffed it in her purse, grabbed the Corvette keys off the dresser, and ran to the car. She sped through the dark, deserted Sunday morning streets without stopping for traffic lights. Her gaze darted from street to street, hoping desperately Peter had listened to her warning not to call the police. All the way to the waterfront, she searched in vain for a lone man on a motorcycle.
Tessa made a left turn onto First Avenue
and cut the lights. Slowing to a crawl, she spied the Coast Seafood warehouse ahead. She parked behind a ramshackle sign boasting Live Nude Girls. Her purse clutched to her chest, she scurried toward the abandoned warehouse, keeping to the shadows. Though the buildings blocked her view of the river, the cold, damp air reeked of polluted water and rotten fish. The area appeared deserted. She tiptoed around the corner of the building, her breath rasping in short, harsh pants.
Without warning, a hand clamped over her mouth from behind. Instinctively, she squeaked. The fingers tightened, cutting off the noise.
"Shh. Are you trying to get killed?" The hand dropped away.
"Peter!" She whirled. "What are you doing?"
"I refuse to live with another Carla on my conscience. Quit the Wonder Woman act and call the cops."
"They're involved. We'll sign Ga— Val's death warrant."
"Leo and Vic sure as hell aren't going to play Chinese Checkers with him." He sighed. "Do you have a plan?"
"Find Val and warn him."
"Do you have a weapon?" She shook her head and Peter frowned. "Maybe we can see the boat from inside the building."
They tiptoed up the crumbling, rotted wooden steps and into the darkened warehouse. Peter picked his way across the debris-littered floor to an east-facing window. "Here," he whispered.
She warily circled tangles of broken wire and chunks of mold-encrusted cement to join him.
"The Lady Liberty is the black fishing trawler docked to the left." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "You stay inside and I'll go scout around. See if you can find a weapon."
She turned away from the window to examine the gloomy interior. A piece of iron pipe caught her eye, and she skirted a pile of rotted boards to pick it up. "How about this?"
He half turned from the window, then stiffened. He gasped and jerked his gaze back outside. "They've got him!"
The pipe clutched in her hand, she leapt over the pile of boards and ran to his side. She didn't see anyone. "You saw Val?"
"Vic just hustled him on board at gunpoint. They had his hands tied behind his back."
She thrust the pipe at him and yanked open her purse. She snatched out the cell phone. "I'm calling Ga— Val's boss." She pushed the power button. Nothing happened. Cold dread congealed in her throat. She pushed it again. "The battery is dead. Val got upset and was gone all night. He must not have realized the phone needed to be charged." Gabe's state of mind last night was her fault. Tears stung her eyes, and she started to shake.
Peter's fingers whitened on the pipe. "Now what?"
She stared at the pipe. Resolve stiffened her spine. Her shaking stopped. "Now we rescue him."
"Tessa, I don't think it's wise to—"
"We're his only hope. If you aren't going to help, shut up." She searched the garbage until she found a second length of iron pipe. She tested the heft against her palm. A crude, but effective weapon. "I'm going to get him out."
"I can't let you go alone. Let's split up. You find Val, and I'll create a diversion."
He hurried outside. She paused to rifle through her purse for anything useful and found a nail file, which she stowed in her sock. Scant help, but perhaps she could jab the point into an unsuspecting eye. She hid her purse in a corner. Gripping the pipe, she navigated the debris to join Peter.
Hidden in the shadows, they scuttled to the dock. She stared up at the tall black ship. Lady Liberty rolled as waves slapped against her side. Tessa's stomach pitche
d. She clenched her teeth and reached for the ladder. Gabe needs you.
Clinging tightly to the rusty metal, she climbed, stopping once to wipe sweaty palms on her slacks. She reached the top and peered over the rail. Not a soul in sight. She clambered aboard, and darted behind a huge pile of coiled rope.
Within seconds, Peter joined her. He glanced at his watch. "In five minutes I'll create a disturbance. If all goes well, I'll meet you back at the warehouse. If not, leave without me."
The deck swayed under her feet as she tiptoed to the doorway that led below. Her chest tightened. "Focus on Gabe," she whispered. She eased open the door. The rusty hinges squeaked, shattering the eerie silence. She froze, her hand on the knob. Only her own ragged breathing and racing pulse thundered in her ears. She crept on.
A twisted stairway opened into a cavernous room with a thick web of pipes snaking overhead. The dank, echoing enclosure reeked of fish. Her stomach roiled. Gagging, she breathed through her mouth in short bursts. Pipe at the ready, she edged along the wall, peering into the blackness.
"Gabe?" she whispered.
"Hi there, songbird."
A gasp burst from her, and she whirled.
Leo loomed behind her, an ugly smirk twisting his mouth.
She charged him, lifting the pipe. He barked out a laugh as he wrenched the weapon away as easily as if she were a child and slammed her up against the wall. The breath exploded out of her lungs and stars blinded her vision.
"You've been trouble since day one." He lowered his blunt face to hers.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. Peter was sneaking up on Leo, pipe raised. If she could keep Leo's attention… She fixed her gaze on his. "I have a lot of financial contacts. I can be an asset to you."
Peter crept closer.
Drumm snorted in disbelief.
She held her gaze steady, afraid she might give Peter away. "I could double your profits."
Greed sliced across Leo's expression. Then he laughed again, the evil tone raising the hairs on the back of her neck. "You don't know it, but you've already earned your keep."
Peter was almost there. Three more steps.
Silently willing Drumm's cold gray eyes not to sever the connection, she strove to stay calm. "What do you mean?"
Peter swung the pipe.
Vic stepped out of the shadows behind Peter. Before Tessa could shout a warning, Vic slammed his fist down on the back of Peter's head. Peter crumpled to the ground.
A scream burst from her throat, a second too late. Leo grabbed her arm. "C'mon, songbird. I've got a job for you."
Fear made her feet clumsy as he dragged her into the bowls of the ship. Her heart galloped painfully. Was Peter badly hurt? And where was Gabe?
Leo shoved her into a chair. He wrenched her arms behind her and wrapped a length of bristly rope tightly around her wrists, cutting off her circulation. She gritted her teeth to keep from moaning. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Leo roughly tied her ankles together, bound her to the chair, then slapped tape over her mouth. She blinked back tears of pain and terror.
Vic arrived with an unconscious Peter draped over his shoulder. He dropped him into another chair six feet to the left and tied him up, then taped Peter's mouth.
Arms crossed, Leo sneered at her. "Now we wait for Val. And he'll show. Because we've got irresistible bait."
No! She threw herself forward, straining against her bonds. The movement wrenched the ropes tighter around her chest. Her vision darkened and she sagged, weakly trying to suck in air.
Leo gestured at the burly man beside him. "I could use a drink while we wait for our guest. How about you, Victor?"
Vic grunted his assent, and the two men left without looking back.
She studied Peter's unconscious face. He didn't seem seriously injured. He'd said he'd seen Gabe forced onboard. Did Leo have another prisoner besides them? Or had Leo caught Gabe, but then he'd escaped? Some "rescue." She groaned. Speculation wouldn't help. Concentrate on escape.
She tested her restraints. If she could loosen the rope… She furiously twisted her wrists back and forth, ignoring the pain as the rough fibers sawed her tender skin. Gabe, she silently sobbed. Be smart. Stay away.
She struggled until her muscles burned with exhaustion. Until her arms and legs went achingly numb. Exhausted, she slumped in her chair. How long had she been here? With every passing minute, her fear for Gabe grew.
Peter emitted a muffled moan. His eyelids floated up, his unfocused stare traveling the room. He spotted her and his eyes widened. He thrashed against the chair. She tried to comfort him with her gaze, and he stilled.
The air grew stuffy. The fishy stench thickened. No sound penetrated the ship's bowels. Her shoulder joints throbbed as though they'd been ripped out of the sockets, and her wrists stung horribly. But the misery in her body was minor compared to her worry for Gabe. She would suffer forever to keep him safe.
She closed her eyes as her thoughts drifted back to last night. Gabe's warm mouth covering hers. His passion-filled gaze. His sensual lips curved in a grin of masculine pride. Tessa's heart contracted. She prayed harder than she ever had before. Please make him stay away.
Hands clamped down on her shoulders and she flinched.
"Easy, honey," Gabe's silky drawl whispered in her ear.
Shaking her head, she lurched forward, her voice muffled by the tape.
"Shh." He held her still. "Don't move. I'll cut you loose."
Cold steel slipped between her wrists. Her arms dropped limply to her sides. He moved in front of her, knelt, and then the knife sliced through the rope at her ankles. "I'm afraid this will smart," he whispered before gently peeling the tape off her mouth.
She barely felt the sting. The second the tape loosened, she hissed, "It's a trap! Get out!"
He chuckled, soft and low. "Leo and Vic are indisposed. By the time they wake up, we'll be long gone." Silent as a stalking cat, he glided to Peter, cut his ropes and then returned. He squatted, cupping her chin in his hand. His eyes narrowed. "Did they hurt you?"
"No. But I can't move."
"Give it a minute." He began to massage her shoulders.
"I walked right into their trap." Burning blood surged painfully into her arms, and her muscles clenched in agony. "This is all my fault."
"The fault is mine." He lifted her chin, holding her gaze. "I knew this was a trap from the bug in Leo's office. I should have told you I had no intention of honoring the meet. I planned to do a little recon and set a trap of my own." His gentle fingers slid to her elbows. "Can you move your arms now?"
Ignoring the pain, she gingerly raised her arms. "But Peter saw—"
"Damn it!" Gabe grabbed her hands, holding them palm up.
She stared in dismay at her shredded wrists. At the blood trickling in obscene scarlet trails down her arms. "I tried to get loose. I had to warn you—"
He swore violently and creatively as he stripped off his jacket, yanked his T-shirt over his head, and then used his knife to cut the fabric into strips.
"Really, it doesn't hurt all that much," she lied as he tenderly bound the throbbing wounds.
A growl rumbled low in his throat "If I had time, I'd kill the bastards. Lucky for them, getting you out of here is my top priority." He helped her to her feet. "One sec." Like a shadow, he cat-footed to the door.
Peter crept to her side.
"Are you all right?" she whispered.
He nodded.
Gabe gestured from the doorway. "All clear. Let's bug out."
Her knees weak with relief, she took a step toward him. Toward freedom.
Peter's arm snaked around her neck and yanked her backward. A cold gun barrel pressed against her temple. "I'm afraid not."
Through a shocked haze, she saw Gabe freeze. His bare torso tensed to steel. "If you want to live, turn her loose." His voice dropped, low and deadly. "Now."
"Peter, wh-what are you doing?" she managed to stammer.
"I shoul
d take my grieving lover act to Hollywood," he gloated. "Oscar material. You two played into my hands like pawns on a chessboard." The arm around her neck tightened. "Drop your weapons, Cousin Val, and have a seat."
A muscle twitched in Gabe's clenched jaw. The knife thudded to the floor, point down. Fingers splayed, he pulled the gun from his waistband and slowly eased it down beside the knife. Expressionless, he stalked to the chair and sat.
Peter thrust a rope at her. "Tie him. And do a good job, so I don't have to shoot him."
On shaking legs, she stumbled forward to kneel at Gabe's feet. She tried to be gentle, but fear for his life made her obey Peter's command to tie him tightly. "I don't understand. You told me to call the police, and you watched me try to summon help on the cell phone."
Peter shifted, keeping her between him and Gabe. "If you had called the cops, Vic would have arrived. Of course that's not his real name. But he is a real cop. And I wouldn't have let you complete the cell call. Luckily, the battery was dead. Having you rush to the rescue was much easier than dragging you aboard unconscious. One way or another, you'd have ended up as bait."
A betrayal worthy of Judas. She swallowed down a wave of nausea. After Gabe's ankles were bound, she moved behind him to tie his wrists. "I thought we were friends."
"Friendship pales next to getting out from under Leo's thumb. Not to mention the money. When you and Val stuck your noses in, you provided me with the perfect opportunity. With Leo occupied by Val's interference, Vic and I planned a hostile takeover. We pretended I was helping you, then we turned the tables. I'll own the whole operation. With inside information from my position at the bank, I'll make millions. Nobody can touch me."
Gabe tensed. "Release Tessa. Name your price."
Peter smirked. "Cousin Val, with the mysterious contacts. We'll discuss that later."
While Peter was distracted by Gabe's offer, she slid the nail file out of her sock and laid it in Gabe's palm. His fingers closed over it.
Peter waved the gun at her. "Hurry up."
"I'm done." She stepped away from Gabe.
