If You Only Knew

by Dixie Lee Brown

  Rayna kicked backward and was rewarded with a pained grunt from Sean. It was a waste of time to try biting him—his gloves were too thick. Abruptly, her mouth was covered with a sickly sweet-smelling rag. If she lost consciousness, there’d be no more chances for her. Desperate to break free, she held her breath and squirmed with all her strength. It was useless. Nausea engulfed her. Her arms and legs were lead weights, and she couldn’t hold her head up. When she finally gulped the breath she needed, the dark of night faded slowly to a much more sinister black.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  * * *

  TY JERKED AWAKE and reached for Rayna. The bed beside him was empty . . . and cold. The bedside clock announced the time—two twenty. Almost two hours since Rayna left to get Ribs.

  He bolted upright and shoved himself off the bed. Something was wrong. He felt it in every nerve and fiber. Shit! Why did he let her go alone?

  He retrieved his pants from the floor and nearly tripped and fell in his haste to get them on. Casting about for his shirt, it was a second before he remembered she had it and how he’d looked forward to taking it off of her when she returned.

  Slipping on his tennis shoes without socks, he grabbed his gun, yanked the door open, and charged into the hall. The house was as quiet as a tomb, but Ty didn’t care how much noise he made getting downstairs.

  Just inside the kitchen door, he stopped. The room was empty, the back door closed and locked, the alarm set, its light blinking in readiness. No sign of a struggle—nothing out of place. Maybe he was overreacting.

  If so, where the hell was Rayna and why hadn’t she come back to him?

  He punched in the code Nate had given them to deactivate the alarm and opened the door slowly. The night air was chilly and heavy with dew. Ty stepped out on the deck and scanned the lawn and gardens.

  “Rayna?” Frustration and fear melded, making it nearly impossible to force her name out. He tried again, louder.

  A light came on in an upstairs bedroom window just as Ty heard a deep growl. He stepped around the patio table and found Ribs struggling to rise from his blanket. Obviously in distress, the dog’s hindquarters refused to sync with his front end, and he kept falling over. His lips pulled back in an endless snarl, and flecks of foam covered his jaw. Dog ailments weren’t his strong suit, but Ty would bet Ribs had been drugged or poisoned . . . and that didn’t bode well for Rayna.

  He started toward the dog just as someone gripped him by the arm.

  Walker was at his elbow. “He’s half out of his mind. You might want to think twice about getting too close.”

  Ty shook Walker’s hand off. “I can identify with that. I’m close to going crazy myself right now.” He stared at the animal trying valiantly to stand. “I have to help him. That’s what Rayna would want.”

  “Where is she?” Walker stepped in front of him.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say she’s with whoever drugged Ribs.”

  Suddenly Joe pushed out onto the deck and lights came on behind him. “Are you saying someone took her?”

  Ty inhaled a deep breath, keenly aware he wasn’t dealing with the situation well, and jerked a hand through his hair. “I’ll have a look around. They could still be here.”

  Nate appeared at the kitchen door. “The perimeter alarm hasn’t been tripped, and there’s nothing on the monitors. Was the house alarm set when you came down?”

  Ty nodded, not trusting his voice.

  Joe exchanged a silent glance with Walker, but Ty knew exactly what he was thinking because he’d already come to the same conclusion. Someone turned the alarms off—and then back on. The people able to pull that off were limited to the group inside this house and Rayna. He refused to believe she left on her own.

  “It was an inside job.” Ty’s gaze zeroed in on Bree just as she stepped onto the deck and stood beside Nate.

  Three more sets of eyes turned in her direction. She took a step backward, her gaze darting between the four of them. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

  Nate grabbed her wrist and stopped her retreat. “Where is she, Bree?” The way his free hand clenched and unclenched could only mean trouble.

  “Who? Rayna? I haven’t seen her since dinner.” She seemed to sense the violence barely held in check and instinctively looked for help elsewhere. “I swear, Ty. I don’t know where she is.”

  Ty stepped between them. “Calm down, Nate. First, let’s have a look around.” He shot Bree a warning glance. “You come with me.” Keeping track of her was imperative until he was sure he knew everything she knew. He couldn’t think of a reason why she’d allow Andre to come on the property and escape alive. She wouldn’t want him anywhere near Madison—but who else would have done it?

  Ribs stopped trying to stand and sat back on his haunches, his front legs set wide apart. His soft brown eyes focused on Walker, and a whine formed in his throat.

  “Got any hydrogen peroxide?” Walker knelt quietly in front of Ribs.

  “I’ll get it.” Nate hurried into the house, returned with the requested item, and handed it to Walker. “I thought you said his scratches were okay?”

  “This isn’t for his scratches. A little of this will cause him to throw up whatever is making him feel like shit.”

  Ty pulled Bree toward the door, brushing by Maria as she appeared, looking sleepy and apprehensive. “We’ll take the upstairs. Joe, check down here, and Nate . . . walk around outside, check the sheds and garage. At first light, we’ll go around the perimeter and search the outbuildings. If we come up empty-handed, then we’ll worry about what Bree isn’t telling us.” Ty ignored the scowl she threw his way.

  Nate grabbed a flashlight and his gun and headed down the steps. Joe, Ty, and Bree strode through the kitchen to the stairs.

  Joe fell in beside Ty. “We’ll find her. You can count on it.”

  “I hope that’s true.” Ty searched Joe’s eyes for a moment as he placed his foot on the first stair. With a tidal wave of fear eroding what was left of his conviction, he started to climb, dragging the reluctant Bree behind him. If only he had some hope of actually finding Rayna here . . . but he was fairly positive this was a waste of time. No one had mentioned the alternative to finding her, but it most definitely wasn’t good. If Andre had found a way to get to her . . . if he’d managed to come in and take her right under Ty’s nose . . . she might already be dead.

  The horror of that thought invaded his bones. He couldn’t even consider that scenario. Not if he wanted to stay on his feet and keep going. He couldn’t give up . . . not as long as there was any possibility he’d find her alive.

  In thirty minutes, they’d searched the house from cellar to attic. Bree had been quiet and sullen, but, lucky for both of them, she kept up. He was too close to losing his temper to risk getting into it with her.

  Scared to death for Rayna, he was having a hard time concentrating on anything else. Every time the image of her, standing beside the bed in his damn shirt, flashed before his eyes, it twisted his gut until he could barely breathe. What was she going through right now? Was she waiting for him . . . hoping?

  Ty pivoted suddenly and slammed his fist into the wall just outside the kitchen door. He didn’t put a scratch on Uncle Leo’s hardwood, but at least now he had the throbbing pain in his hand to distract him. He dragged Bree through the door and shoved her toward the chair beside Maria at the table. Bree leaned toward Maria and whispered something. Maria’s accusing glare darted toward him before she shoved her chair back and hurried from the room.

  He felt Joe’s gaze on him. His friend no doubt thought Ty was having a meltdown after his temper tantrum in the hall. He’d be right.

  “Nate, would you mind making us some coffee?” Joe spoke quietly and glanced toward the woman sitting at the table.

  Nate nodded. “Got you covered.”

  Joe gave a nod in the direction of the living room and led the way, dropping into one of the armchairs by the window. Walker leaned against the wa
ll just inside the doorway, and Ty paced a line between them.

  “As far as I’m concerned, this is your call, Ty. We’ll play it however you say.” Joe’s words stopped Ty in his tracks.

  The room grew quiet, both of them waiting for his direction. If he hadn’t been hurting so damn bad, Ty might have been able to appreciate Joe’s confidence in him. As it was, anxiety rolled around in his stomach, stirring up dread. Truth was, he had no faith in himself any longer. Wasn’t he the one who let Rayna go alone into danger?

  Walker pushed away from the wall and strode toward Ty. “It’s natural to blame yourself at times like this. Believe me, I can attest to that, but you know as well as I do . . . you can’t give in to it. If we don’t do our job perfectly, Rayna might not come home.”

  Pain stabbed at Ty, and he turned away. He couldn’t lose her now.

  “That’s a hard fact, and that’s why we have to concentrate on the job . . . and nothing else.” Walker returned to the sofa and sat.

  How many times had he heard Walker say that? It meant something entirely different to him this time. Not so simple to think of Rayna as the job. Ty hated it, but Walker was right. The only way to get Rayna back was to start treating her like a package to be retrieved, a hostage to free, a complete stranger. He had to think logically . . . methodically. Every eventuality had to be covered. Every possible mistake Andre might make that they could turn to their own ends had to be thought through. They had a lot of work to do, and very little time.

  If he was going to make it through this and be of any help to her, he had to get some emotional distance. He watched Walker and Joe, and he knew the instant they switched off any personal attachment they felt and became strictly men with a job to do. Ty had been trained in those same techniques. Normally, he could compartmentalize with the best of them, but this was different. This was Rayna. Goddammit. He loved her.

  He glanced at his watch. Almost four. “We’ve got men on the ground in just over two hours. Walker . . .?”

  “On it.”

  “Joe, you and Nate should check your sources and see if they’ve located Andre yet. If not, I don’t want to wait. I’ll call Andre and see if he’ll agree to meet.”

  The sudden memory of where he’d seen Mikhail’s cell phone last flooded his mind.

  “Son of a bitch!” Ty rubbed the nape of his neck and swore again.

  “Problem?” Joe leaned forward.

  “Mikhail’s phone. It was in my shirt pocket . . . and Rayna put it on. The phone is gone, and we don’t have any way to get in touch with Andre.” Ty balled his hands into fists, resisting the urge to hit something again. How could he have forgotten that?

  Joe yanked his phone from his belt and held it out to Ty. “Do you remember Mikhail’s number?”

  Ty stared at the phone in Joe’s hand. He’d given the number to Nate so they could stay in communication after Rayna was taken outside the diner in Crescent City. He’d never forget it. Was it possible Rayna still had the phone . . . and could answer? He should have thought of that a long time ago. He was too damn close. He wasn’t thinking objectively enough.

  With shaking fingers, he took the phone, dialed, and listened as it rang once . . . twice . . . three times.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  * * *

  RAYNA WOKE TO the vibration of the phone in her pocket and instinctively reached for it, then gasped as the plastic bindings around her wrists gouged her skin. A heartbeat later, it all started to come back. Ribs . . . Sean Phillips . . . Maria . . . the rag shoved in her face smelling of something putridly sweet. Everything came alive in her memory with surprising clarity. Everything except where they were going and why.

  She was in a speeding vehicle. Darkness obscured anything beyond the windows, not that she’d be able to see much from her position on the floor, crammed between the front and back seats of a mid-sized car. How long since they’d left Nate’s house? Ty. Was he looking for her?

  The phone vibrated again. Should she go for it? Her hands were secured in front of her. She could reach the phone. It would just be a matter of pushing the right buttons before Sean realized what she was doing.

  The vibration came again and Sean swore, jammed on the brakes, and reached between the seats to grope her pockets for the source of the noise. It was all she could do to keep from gagging as his hands probed and explored in ways that made her feel violated. He jerked the phone from her shirt pocket and turned back toward the front. A scornful laugh rang out, and then he must have hit the speaker button because the next voice she heard was Ty’s.

  “Sean?” Ty paused for a heartbeat, and when he spoke again, the uncertainty was gone from his voice. “If you hurt her, Sean, I’ll kill you.”

  Sean snorted. “Told you this wasn’t over, Whitlock.”

  Rayna heard the beep ending the call and then Sean stepped on the gas. The vehicle accelerated again. She raised her head just enough to see over the console before she was overcome with swirling, dizzying nausea. She couldn’t stop the groan that twisted from her throat. Sean put on the brakes again and jerked the car to the side of the road.

  He shifted in the seat and reached for her, dragging her from the floor, apparently effortlessly, and shoving her onto the backseat. She flinched as he jerked the gag from her mouth.

  “I don’t think we need that anymore. Let me tell you what’s going to happen. You’re going to kill Andre Komarov for me.” Sean smirked. “What happens after that is totally up to you.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “A safe house for the time being. As soon as the FBI learns where Andre is holing up, you’ll be my ticket in the door.”

  The dizziness made it hard to concentrate, but she was confident her life depended on garnering all the information she could from this man. “Ty has already planned to go after Andre. Why not let him finish what he’s started?”

  “He’s doing it to protect you and the kid. Let’s just say our motives differ. I have a personal vendetta to settle with Andre. I need to get to him first, so the quicker we get this done, the better.” Sean swung toward the front again.

  “Can I talk to Ty?” Rayna didn’t know why she asked. She already knew what Sean’s answer would be, but suddenly she missed Ty desperately and needed that lifeline.

  “Don’t worry. He knows you’re safe with me.” He rolled down the window and tossed the phone into the roadway.

  Sean threw the car in gear and spun off the shoulder. Rayna leaned back, closed her eyes, and concentrated on keeping the dread that roiled in her stomach from turning into full-fledged panic. Focus on finding a way out of this. That was what she’d been trained to do.

  The gun was gone from her waistband. She’d known Sean would search her, but it was a disappointing blow anyway. Surreptitiously, she tested the bindings on her wrists. The thick, plastic zip ties didn’t give but bit into her flesh cruelly. She was grateful her ankles weren’t bound. At least she’d be able to run if the opportunity presented itself. She couldn’t count on Ty or anyone else coming for her. There was no way he could know where she was. She was on her own.

  Surprisingly, realizing what she had to do calmed her, and she started taking note of the roads, signs, and buildings as they rushed by. If Sean allowed her to speak to Ty, it would be imperative to know where she was.

  Ty was probably blaming himself. A sudden image of him grinning at her from the bed as she donned his shirt and buttoned it made her smile. His eyes still dark with passion, his hair tousled, his nakedness barely covered by the sheet, he’d wanted to go downstairs with her, but she’d insisted he stay.

  She remembered Ribs, lying motionless on his blanket, and jerked forward on the seat. Gritting her teeth against the nausea, she ground out the question. “You bastard! What did you do to Ribs?”

  “That vicious damn dog? I gave him some hamburger laced with sleeping pills. ’Course, I didn’t know how many would do the job, so I may have used a few more than he needed. Put him out like a
light.” Sean chuckled as though telling a funny story.

  Rayna bit her bottom lip in an effort to keep from launching into a tirade that would obviously only amuse him while not helping Ribs in the least. Besides, in her present circumstances, there was no sense in antagonizing the man. Her best bet was to go along with whatever he said. Maybe, with enough time, she could talk him into untying her. If she had her hands free that would change the odds considerably.

  “I understand why you’re doing this. I mean . . . I would have felt exactly the same way if Ty tried to keep me out of the fight. Of course you want to protect Madison and Bree.” She leaned back against the seat again and forced a conversational tone in her voice that she hoped would get him talking. “You know they’ll suspect Bree of being in collusion with you.” She paused. “She isn’t, is she?”

  Sean shook his head. “Bree is blissfully ignorant of any of this, and with a little luck, I’ll keep it that way.”

  “You don’t want her to know how far you’re willing to go to protect her and Madison?”

  Sean scowled at her in the rearview. “You ask too many damn questions.”

  “But Bree could convince Ty to help you.”

  “Bree doesn’t have the power over Ty she thinks she has. Besides, I don’t need Ty’s help. I’ve got you.” He laughed and set his gaze back on the road. “You’re going to get rid of Andre for me. If you play it smart, you might even survive this.”

  He was lying. It was obvious that her cooperation was all he wanted. He had no intention of letting her live.

  “What the hell?”

  His alarm drew her gaze to the front. He was staring in the rearview mirror, and a fraction of a second later, crunching metal and a hard jolt propelled the car and her body forward. Her head snapped back against the seat as someone rear-ended them. Their vehicle swerved dangerously before Sean brought it under control and floored the gas pedal.