Distorted

by Christy Barritt

  Where was Mallory? He searched the clusters of people. Grant stood plastered against the wall, his expression frozen like a deer in the headlights. Logan, Kori, and Mallory were nowhere to be seen.

  That was because they’d gotten her to safety . . . right?

  Unease swarmed in his gut.

  This wasn’t a part of their plan. They should have gotten Mallory to safety. These high schoolers weren’t supposed to be here. And something had caused a commotion in the center of the room.

  Mallory . . . where was Mallory?

  He rushed across the lobby toward Grant, adrenaline surging through him. “Where’s Mallory?”

  “She’s right—” He started to point his thumb beside him but stopped. “She was right there, just a minute ago.”

  He glanced at the floor. Kori lay there, smut on her face from the explosion.

  “Grant, call the police. Check on Kori. Where’s Logan?”

  “I . . . I don’t know.”

  “When you find him, tell him what happened. I’ve got to find Mallory.”

  All his senses were on alert. He scanned the crowd one last time but didn’t see Mallory anywhere. Where could she be?

  The elevator doors were only a foot away from Grant. Had she slipped inside one of the cars? Had someone grabbed her and pulled her inside?

  He looked up as the numbers lit, showing which floor the car was on. The light stopped on the seventh floor.

  He bypassed the other elevator and took off toward the stairway, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached the seventh floor. He knew time was of the essence. If someone had taken Mallory, two minutes could mean the difference between life and death.

  He stepped out of the stairwell just in time to see someone—possibly two someones—disappear around the corner.

  He sprinted after them, hoping one was Mallory. Praying she was okay.

  He rounded the corner. The person disappeared into a room. It was Mallory. One of them was Mallory. He couldn’t miss that blonde hair.

  “Stop!” he yelled.

  He reached the room. His lungs strained for air. Sweat covered his skin.

  He rushed inside, only to find darkness surrounding him. Where were they?

  His nerves went on edge. Was this a trap?

  He gripped his gun and remained close to the wall. They were in here. He could sense them.

  He moved carefully around the room, listening for a sign of their location. As he skirted by something, he heard his sleeve tear. Felt his skin tear.

  He’d cut himself on some kind of construction equipment, he supposed. But that was the least of his worries at the moment.

  He had to find Mallory. With each second that ticked by, the odds and the risks became greater. That was unacceptable.

  The fact that any of this had happened in the first place was unacceptable.

  He continued to skirt around the room, giving his eyes times to adjust to the darkness. The whole floor appeared to be under construction, and dangerous equipment was everywhere.

  At that moment, a gasp sounded on the other side of the space.

  Mallory. That was Mallory. He felt certain of it.

  He shifted his position, moving back toward the door. The last thing he needed was for her captor to make a run for it.

  Suddenly, he heard a shout. In an instant, someone lunged toward him, landing in his arms.

  Mallory. Mallory was in his arms. She wasn’t even fighting it. Gratefully, he inhaled her strawberry scent. Felt her soft hair. Heard her low whimper.

  The door opened, and the man ran out.

  He started to go after him but held Mallory instead. “Are you hurt?”

  She sniffled on his shoulder. “No, I’m fine. Go.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Then take me with you. We can’t lose him, Tennyson. He has the answers we need.”

  Against his better instincts, he led Mallory down the hallway. The man was nowhere to be seen.

  He couldn’t have gotten far away. Tennyson listened for any whispered creaks or footfalls. He watched for any flickering shadows. Felt the air for any change in intensity.

  His heart pounded in his ears. It was quiet. Too quiet. Was someone hiding, waiting to strike?

  He took each step with caution and anticipation.

  There was someone else on this floor. The question was where. Where were they?

  He stayed closed to the wall, using all of his senses to alert him when necessary. His gun was raised, ready for action. But most of all, he had to keep Mallory safe.

  The door at the end of the corridor flew open. Tennyson shoved Mallory behind him and raised his gun.

  A figure stepped out. Tennyson couldn’t see his features. But he saw the shadow of a gun.

  “Tennyson?”

  Tennyson lowered his weapon, his heart rate plunging.

  Logan stepped into the light, his hands raised. “It’s me.”

  Tennyson glanced around once more, not willing to let down his guard. “Did you see anyone run that way?”

  Logan shook his head, beads of sweat glimmering in the dim glow of the exit sign above him. “No. Is Mallory okay?”

  “I’m fine. But the guy got away. He could still be on this floor.”

  “Keep searching,” Tennyson told him. “I need to get Mallory to safety.”

  As soon as they stepped into the stairwell, Tennyson absorbed Mallory’s face in the dim glow of the light overhead.

  “Are you okay?” he questioned.

  She started to reach for him but paused, dropping her hand.

  “I’m fine.” A tear streamed down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. “Or not.”

  Tennyson wanted more than anything to reach out to her. To do something to make her feel better. But pulling her into a hug would only upset her more. “I’m sorry, Mallory.”

  “No, I’m sorry.” She let out a shaky laugh.

  “Don’t apologize.”

  She wiped under her eyes with the bottom of her finger. Mascara, heavy from her TV appearance, stained below her lids. “It took me back in time to the night those men grabbed me and killed my parents.”

  Tennyson couldn’t imagine what she’d gone through mentally. He couldn’t pretend to understand.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it in a long time. I mean, I hadn’t really thought about it. I tried to forget about it, to be truthful.” She paused. “I thought I was going to relive that year all over again, Tennyson, and that thought caused something to break inside me.”

  “I’m not going to let that happen. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” He shifted. “Did you get a good look at him, Mallory?”

  “No, I didn’t. He was behind me the whole time.”

  “Did you recognize his voice?”

  “He didn’t say anything.”

  Tennyson fought a sigh. He wasn’t getting very far with this.

  Mallory stepped back and took a deep breath, as if trying to pull herself together. “Maybe it is time for me to take a break. I don’t want these guys to win, but wisdom tells me that stepping out of the limelight for a short time period would be good.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “I don’t know where I’ll go.”

  “I do,” Tennyson said. “I know the perfect place.”

  Her gaze met his. “I’ll have to trust you on that.”

  Something about her admission of trust caused heat to shoot through him. He liked the sound of that. But he didn’t want to disappoint her.

  Then her eyes zeroed in on his arm.

  “You’re hurt.”

  He looked down and saw he was bleeding. He hadn’t even noticed it until now.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You should go to the hospital. You might even need stitches.”

  Something about her concern warmed him all the way to the bone.

  Then he remembered Claire. He remembered Kori’s warning about not getting too close. Clair
e might be alive if he’d kept his distance, if he’d been able to remain objective.

  She was dead as a result. Tennyson couldn’t let himself forget that.

  Even if Mallory made it really easy to forget.

  CHAPTER 26

  The next morning, Mallory and Tennyson cruised down the highway toward Cape Thomas. Grant and Logan were driving a second vehicle following behind them. Kori led the way in a separate car at the front of the pack. Although she’d been knocked out at the TV station when the blast ripped through the lobby, she seemed to be doing okay now.

  The convoy had stopped two hours ago, long enough to grab a quick bite to eat. Then they were on the road again.

  No one had said much during the meal. In fact, everyone seemed pretty sober after everything that had happened. Mallory had been especially quiet, and she was grateful that Tennyson let her have space to collect her thoughts.

  After the TV station debacle, she’d spent three hours being questioned by police, while paramedics had treated Tennyson’s wound. Now the tour was over. Maybe it should have been over long ago. Maybe she’d been fooling herself into thinking she was doing the right thing.

  Dante could be alive. Someone wanted her dead. And it was hard to talk about being a victor when someone was trying to victimize her.

  Mallory felt Tennyson shift beside her. She sensed a new heaviness about him and braced herself for whatever he had to say.

  “There’s something I need to tell you, Mallory.” His voice was quiet and still.

  Her muscles tensed at the foreshadowing. “Okay . . .”

  He pressed his lips together before drawing in a deep breath. “I’m sorry to put it this way, but there’s no easy way to say this. Narnie is missing.”

  Mallory gasped, certain she hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, Mallory. I know the two of you weren’t close, but . . .”

  Her head felt like it was swimming through muck. “What . . . ? How . . . ?”

  “Her hotel room in Atlanta was ransacked. She hasn’t been seen since then.”

  Mallory’s chin dropped down toward her chest. Atlanta? She didn’t know where this was going, but she didn’t like it. “I can’t believe it. Do you know anything else?”

  “From what I heard, she was apparently threatening to go to the FBI with some information on Walter Boyce.”

  “Walter?” Every other sentence Tennyson spoke shocked her. She hadn’t been expecting any of this. Wouldn’t have been able to guess it even. She’d known Narnie was ruthless but . . . this?

  “There’s rumor that Walter was helping Torres transport his weapons overseas.”

  She let out a laugh at the absurdity of his statement. “Walter would never do that. He’s a good man. One of my father’s best friends.”

  “Even good men can be bought.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Mallory.”

  His words echoed in her mind. She tried to settle down, to make sense of them. But, on the other hand, she didn’t want them to. “I just can’t believe this. Is there no end to what people will do to get more, to have more—money, power, success—whatever their poison is?”

  “It’s unsettling, I know.”

  She closed her eyes and pressed her head back into the seat. Walter. Could he have been in on this? And if he was, what did that mean about her father? Could Jason have been correct—did he have a backroom deal going with Dante?

  She couldn’t stomach that thought.

  Not to mention Narnie . . . Though she had trouble feeling sorry for the woman, she didn’t want her to suffer. Mallory had always hoped there was a chance for redemption. She still hoped there would be a chance for that.

  Could things get any worse?

  As they crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel, Tennyson’s phone rang. He grabbed it from the console and saw it was the detective in charge of the investigation in Atlanta.

  He put the phone on speaker so Mallory could hear.

  “I promised to give you an update,” Detective Goodwin said. “First of all, you’ll be happy to know that everyone in the building is okay. We have some injuries, but the bomb wasn’t strong. It was more the kind meant to get attention than to injure.”

  “I’m glad everyone is okay,” Mallory said. “Even the man with the bomb?”

  “He suffered some burns, but he should recover. The only thing he’s said is that he was paid to plant the bomb.”

  “What do you know about him?” Tennyson asked.

  “His name is Marvin Harris. He has no known priors, but his neighbors said he’s been acting suspiciously lately.”

  “Suspiciously how?” Tennyson asked.

  “Keeping strange hours. Lots of late-night visitors.”

  What if Marvin had been a distraction? Tennyson wondered. Whoever the person was behind Mallory’s almost-abduction had known Mallory would be in the lobby. He’d known that if everyone’s attention was on someone else, that would give him the best opportunity to grab Mallory.

  Tennyson’s stomach clenched.

  What would have happened if Tennyson hadn’t come in when he did? Would the man have escaped out a side exit with Mallory? Off the roof? What had his plan been?

  Tennyson wasn’t sure. But he didn’t like the thought of it.

  “There was one other thing the neighbor said,” Detective Goodwin continued. “Apparently, this guy Marvin has been a die-hard fan of Ms. Baldwin. There’s evidence to indicate he’s been following her. He even had some photos he took of her at various places.”

  Tennyson remembered the pictures he’d seen, the ones a stalker had taken and sent. “Yet he claims he was paid off?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Did he say anything about sending messages to me?” Mallory asked.

  Tennyson knew what she was thinking: Could this man be Nameless?

  “What type of messages?”

  “Mallory has been getting anonymous e-mails from someone,” Tennyson explained.

  “He wasn’t sending them—not that we know of, but we’ll look into it.”

  Were there two different things going on here? Did Mallory have a stalker and someone from Inferno who was following her? That’s how it appeared. And it didn’t make Tennyson feel better.

  The web was getting more complicated by the moment, and more difficult to untangle.

  Just as he hung up, Mallory’s phone buzzed.

  “I’ve got a text message.”

  “Who’s it from?” Tennyson asked.

  “Jason.” She narrowed her eyes as she read the words there. Her lower lip dropped. “He’s threatening to go public with the information about my dad meeting with Dante. Why would he do that? Nothing has even been confirmed.”

  His jaw flexed. “I have no idea. Maybe you should call Jason and see where his head is.”

  “What if he really has something?” she asked quietly. “I want to believe my father would never do anything to put the family in danger, but . . .”

  “Then we’ll handle it.”

  “I feel like I might break into a million pieces in the process,” she whispered.

  “Even if you do, I’ll help put you back together,” he said. He reached out his hand and offered it to her.

  To her surprise, she accepted it. She wrapped her fingers around his and squeezed.

  CHAPTER 27

  As Mallory dialed Jason’s number, her heart pounded fiercely in her chest.

  Jason wanted to go to the media with information that was just conjecture.

  He’d ruin her family’s reputation. However, that wasn’t even the most important thing to her. The truth was important, but this had “slimy” written all over it.

  Why would Jason do this? It just didn’t make sense.

  She could hardly breathe as she finished dialing. Voice mail picked up. She’d bet anything Jason was simply avoiding talking to her.

  “Jason, this is Mallory. Call me. Please.” She hit “End” before looking back up at T
ennyson. She squeezed the phone in her hands, trying to keep herself calm. Her white knuckles indicated she might break the phone if she didn’t try harder. “I’ll try him again later.”

  “You have no idea why he would pull a stunt like this?”

  She shook her head, reflecting on her last two conversations with him. Sure, the last one had gone south. But this?

  “I have no idea. It just doesn’t even seem like Jason. He’s the type who takes action, but only when things work in his favor. You know, when it helps him in some way.”

  “How could this help him?”

  She tried to sift through her thoughts. “I’m not sure. I mean, he’s poised to take over his father’s company. With that would come more power and money. I suppose that could have something to do with it. Greed can lead to a multitude of sins.”

  “If he’s really concerned, maybe he should go to the FBI. Not to the media.”

  “Exactly. It doesn’t make sense.” Justice was justice. If her father had done something wrong, she couldn’t cover it up. But things needed to be done properly.

  “Maybe he wants more attention for himself.”

  She remembered Jason’s smug face. How he’d only ever looked out for himself. How he hadn’t called her after her ordeal. She hadn’t realized until recently the hard feelings she had because of that.

  “This would be one way to get some attention.” She bit down, trying to process her thoughts. “I knew when I saw him again that nothing had changed. He’s still as self-centered as ever.”

  “This would be taking it to the extreme, don’t you think?” Tennyson asked.

  “That’s what I don’t understand.”

  “You rejected him. Maybe that cut deeper than you assumed it would. This would be attention plus some vengeance.”

  “If this is his way of getting even, maybe he’s not right in the head.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window for several minutes in silence.

  Her thoughts shifted from Jason, to Dante, to her future. To her ability to truly love again, something she often questioned after her ordeal.

  A question had been lingering in her mind for a while now. Maybe this was the time to ask it. She wasn’t, however, sure how Tennyson would respond.

  “Can I ask you a question?”