Damned If You Don't

Home > Other > Damned If You Don't > Page 3
Damned If You Don't Page 3

by Linda J. Parisi


  “Public place.”

  Jack rolled his eyes. He almost laughed. Almost. “We’ve done this in public places before. What the hell is the matter with you? I just served her up on a silver platter for you, and you blew it.”

  “You’ve still got her, don’t you?”

  Smug bastard. “Of course.”

  But as he said the words, something started bothering Jack. The lead ball became a lead weight. Then it hit him. Where were the authorities? The police? The state troopers? Someone in law enforcement?

  “Sam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s going on?” he asked, his tone even.

  “What do you mean?” Sam replied, his tone too innocent.

  Confusion rang through at the end of the question, enough for Jack to almost believe his friend. After all, it was Sam. But a terrible possibility had been planted in his brain. One that had him asking, “Where are the authorities, Sam?”

  “Authorities?” Sam repeated.

  Was that bewilderment he heard, or was bewilderment what he wanted to hear? “Uh, you know, uniforms? Black suits? Those guys?”

  “No time.”

  Jack snorted. At best, Sam was a bad liar. Disappointment carved a hollow in his belly. “Bullshit. You had plenty of time.”

  “I swear to God, Jack. They wanted to make sure their i’s were dotted and their t’s were crossed. I figured I had to try it alone first.”

  Jack frowned. It all sounded so logical on the surface, that had he not known there was anything wrong, he would have accepted the excuse. But not now, not when his gut was screaming at him. “Next time let me take care of the details. You suck at it.”

  Sam laughed. Was that relief he heard or self-deprecation? “No problem.”

  “So what now?” he asked, not quite sure how to rectify the mess Sam’d made.

  “Pick a place,” Sam replied. “I’m in a car tailing you about five or six deep. We’ll converge, and I won’t blow it again.”

  Jack shook his head. Somehow Sam didn’t make him feel reassured. Then again, Sam wasn’t the guy to go to for exact plans. He had “people” for that. “We’ve got two ways to go on this,” Jack answered. “Get her out of the car, or get us both down to one car. Stay back until I get this fixed without you fucking things up again.”

  “No need to get testy.”

  At the moment, Jack had every need. Especially when Sam didn’t volunteer the rest of the information, forcing him to reiterate. “This will give you time to bring in the good guys.”

  “You got it.”

  Jack sighed, glad his buddy agreed. “Hey, Sam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why do I always end up saving your ass?”

  He listened to Sam roar, wishing he felt like laughing. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  Jack hung up, knowing luck had absolutely nothing to do with it. Jack had been trained to find people, people who didn’t want to be found. Criminals who deserved to be punished.

  And that made him want to hurl. On the surface, looks were deceiving. The man he’d trusted with his life was lying to him, placing him in the middle of a total role reversal. Because his gut was telling him something that couldn’t possibly be true—that Sam was lying to him and Morgan was not.

  * * * *

  Morgan eased her foot down on the brakes. She glanced at the rearview mirror and a sharp sear of acid burned a hole in her stomach.

  When things went south, they really went south.

  She pulled her car into the outlet parking lot. She didn’t have to look. Jack was right behind her. While one part of her mind wondered if things could get any worse, the other cleared and took note of how many cars were in the lot and where they were parked.

  Morgan pulled into a row, making sure no car was in front of her. This would force Jack, at the very least, to get out and walk around to talk to her.

  So why wasn’t he getting out of his car?

  She watched a black sedan pull into the row opposite her car. She started to wonder about that when all of a sudden Jack was standing next to her car door, a world of hurt in his gaze.

  Trapped, as much by Jack as by circumstance. She rolled down her window. “You could have let me say good-bye.”

  “Jack, I—”

  He leaned forward to grip the metal above her car door. “Are you that much of a coward that you wanted to get someone killed back there?”

  Yes, she wanted to scream. Yes. Instead she answered as calmly as she could. “Jack, I’m sorry.”

  He released the metal as if it burned, and raked through his hair, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. Then it fell with a heartfelt sigh. “Not half as sorry as I am.”

  “Let me go, Jack. Please.”

  “I’m sorry, kitten. I can’t.”

  Morgan’s insides twisted at the raw ache in his voice. “I have to go. Now.”

  She watched him lift his head and scan the area with a deep frown creasing his forehead. “I owe you lunch.”

  She shook her head. “No you don’t. Good-bye, Jack.”

  He stepped up against the car, leaned into the open space of the window, and got as close to her as he could. "Aww, hell, kitten,” he whispered in that sexy way of his. “What’ve you got to lose?”

  My life?

  “Half an hour,” he cajoled, deepening his tone the same way he did in bed, giving her that patented grin of his. “Thirty minutes.”

  Morgan knew firsthand what the man could do with thirty minutes. “No, Jack. I can’t.”

  “C’mon, Morgan. Please,” he begged. “At least let me settle up with you. I can’t let you go, now. It’s a matter of honor.”

  Was that why he’d followed her?

  She scanned the area. Nothing seemed amiss. Maybe she’d lost her pursuers. Her main problem, at the moment, seemed only to be Jack.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jack. I need to leave now. You promised. No scene.”

  “Phone number?” he asked, surprising her that he really wasn’t letting go. “E-mail addy?”

  She shook her head again.

  “How about one last kiss?”

  He ducked, lifted his head, and stepped back so she could open the door and stand. She opened the door calling herself all kinds of a fool but left the engine running to make sure he got the point.

  Before she could settle her weight on both of her feet, he hauled her up against his body. Funny how he had the ability to make the world go away with a simple touch.

  He held her for what seemed forever before bending down to kiss her. His tongue tasted everywhere inside her mouth as if he could brand her in his memory. She couldn’t believe how safe she felt in his arms.

  For a moment, the earth stood still.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he broke the kiss.

  “Jack!” she cried, realization crashing. Her gaze shot past him as two men barreled toward her from the black sedan directly across. One was the same sandy-haired man she’d seen at the ferry, the other looked like a linebacker.

  Even as her stomach fell, Morgan knew she had to protect him. She’d created this problem; now she had to fix it.

  “Jack,” she whispered urgently “you need to get out of here. Now!”

  He started looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. “What are you talking about?” he said, holding her closer.

  “Let go of me and go. Get out of here!” she yelled.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Go!”

  Morgan pushed him away, turning to climb into the car, but his hand clamped her arm, refusing to let go. God, what a fool she was. The man was going to play knight in shining armor when all she needed to do was escape. Now. Before it was too late.

  And then all at once, it was.

  “Good morning, Dr. Mackenzie,” said the sandy-haired man.

  Her gaze flew to Jack. “Jack…?” He looked like he’d been punched in the gut. “Jack…?” This time, in a whisper.
>
  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  Morgan wrenched her arm free, throwing herself into the car, but Jack held fast to the door, gripping it like a man in shock. She thought she was going to be sick, her whole body shaking, when all at once she saw her only option.

  Run!

  She slammed the car into gear, her hand yanking at the door when suddenly the sandy-haired man grabbed it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Dr. Mackenzie.”

  She slapped at his hand. “You can’t hold me!” she screeched.

  “Kitten, please,” Jack said soothingly, his hand covering hers as she looked up into his eyes. Confusion, shock, hurt, and anger all roiled inside his gaze. “Wait.”

  “Wait?” she cried, still tugging at the door. “Wait for what?”

  Was Jack trying to help her? But if he did, that would put him in the same danger she was in. She shook her head violently. “No!” There was no way she’d let him help her.

  He grinned at her, trying to reassure, a sadness filling his features now that had nothing to do with the situation they were in. Or did it?

  “Do we have a problem here?” he asked the sandy-haired man.

  “I don’t know,” the man said. “Do we?”

  Jack let go of the door. Finally. But now the burly-looking man was standing in front of her car, arms crossed over his chest as if he could stop the car by himself.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jack asked, his tone hard as steel.

  The bull of a man advanced. “Nothing,” he said.

  But Morgan knew better. She slammed the door closed just as the sandy-haired man lunged. Jack tripped him and sent him sprawling. Then all at once Jack swiveled around to the bull and knocked him aside like a running back. He ran around the front of the car, and threw open the passenger-side door and jumped in beside her.

  “Drive!” he ordered.

  Morgan threw the car into reverse and, cutting the wheel, hit the gas, whipping the car around before she was out of the parking lot.

  “Slow down,” he said. “Last thing we need now is the cops.”

  “Okay,” she said, her heart still pounding in her ears.

  “Pull out onto the highway. Get around as many cars as you can.”

  “Why?” She stole a glance at him. “Why are you telling me what to do? Why are you here?”

  He ignored her, straining against the seat belt he’d finally put on, his hand braced against the dashboard. “Up ahead. The car wash. Pull in.”

  All right, this was starting to freak her out. And she had only a slim thread keeping her sanity together at the moment.

  “Why?”

  “Just do what I tell you!” he barked.

  “Why?” she cried, “I don’t understand!”

  He glared at her. “Just do as I say, goddamn it! Now turn!”

  Her heart in her throat, she slowed down, pulling into the driveway as he ordered.

  “Good. Now go around back, then shut the car off. They’ll go past us first, then have to double back and around.”

  How the hell did he know all this?

  She was just about to ask when he turned, his gaze filled with regret. “Kitten,” he said, “we have to talk.”

  And that was when the lightbulb clicked on inside her head. Jack wasn’t her knight in shining armor. He wasn’t even the cowboy on the white horse. He was part of the posse.

  Chapter Four

  Raw venom clawed its way up her throat. “Bastard!”

  He didn’t answer.

  Cold invaded her limbs, then her body, then her heart as she threw the car into park. Morgan started shaking. “You freaking bastard.”

  She flew at him, her arms and fists finding any contact they could make. He let her hit him a couple of times before he corralled both her wrists.

  “Yes.”

  “Judas!” she spat out.

  “Yes.”

  Her insides turned to stone, falling to the ground with a heavy thud. “Who are you?”

  He shrugged, not answering this time. Sapphire chips stared back at her, colder than ice. “A tracker.”

  “How could you?” she cried, all the pain of her being wrapped into those three little words.

  “Part of the job, kitten,” he answered, letting her go with absolutely no expression on his face. Except for the little twitch below his eye. And the muscles of his cheek that now stood out in bas-relief.

  He knew who she was. Had known all along. A thousand knives sliced her guts open and let them bleed. With one mighty swing, she slapped his face as hard as she could. She didn’t even acknowledge the pain in her hand. His surprised expression turned to one of pain.

  “Do you always sleep with your intended target?” she hissed.

  His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead he rubbed his abused cheek.

  “No.”

  His gaze caught hers. They stared at each other for a long moment. Even the agony of her shredded insides couldn’t completely douse the spark between them. That made him more dangerous than ever.

  “Fine. Just get out.”

  Morgan reached over to start the car again when Jack’s hand closed over hers. She ripped her hand away as if burned. He frowned as he got the message. “I don’t think so, kitten. Not yet. I need to know what’s going on here first.”

  “Don’t you dare call me that!” she cried.

  He shrugged showing her that if this was what she wanted, it was okay with him. “I need to know what’s going on,” he repeated, his tone steely.

  His gaze never left hers, and they continued to stare at each other, locked in a power struggle that didn’t want to end. “No, you don’t. And I’m not going to tell you. You betrayed me,” Morgan answered.

  The tension between them thickened. He’d sold her out. He’d been willing to give her over to someone he obviously knew very well.

  “I did what I thought I had to do.”

  “Fine.” As if that justified everything. Morgan slammed her hand down on the steering wheel, her anger already at the breaking point. “Just get out of the car and have a nice life. Good-bye, Jack.”

  “You won’t last one day,” he sneered.

  His words penetrated her anger. It was the first truth she’d heard in the last twenty-four hours.

  Morgan clenched her fists so hard that her nails bit into the skin of her palms. But the pain helped her focus, helped her not to cry. Crying would be a sign of weakness, and she would never be weak in front of this man again. “Okay. You’re right. I won’t. So what now?”

  He twisted, looking in the backseat. “Take anything you can carry and throw it in that canvas bag. You have thirty seconds.”

  She hesitated. He recaptured her gaze with his. His face could’ve been carved in stone for all the emotion he showed, except that his fingers tapped on his thigh, a sign of impatience.

  Reaction set in, and her body started trembling again. But she leaned over the seat, threw open her suitcase, grabbed her jeans, a sweatshirt, underwear, and her makeup. Then she complied with his command and threw the rest of what she could carry into the canvas bag.

  “Good. We’re going to go through the car wash. You’re going to change clothes. Do you have sneakers?”

  She nodded. “Those too. As soon as you pay the man approaching us, you’re going to start. You’ll be finished by the time the car is done. Got that?”

  She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. A ball of anger burned in the middle of her throat.

  “You can haul off and hit me again later if it’ll make you feel better. Right now, I’m your best shot at survival. So make up your mind.”

  She nodded. “Good,” he replied. “We’re going to take the car when the car wash stops and pull it around to the back again. These parking lots look like they’re connected, and we won’t be seen from the highway. I could swear I saw a limo company about three or four buildings back.”

  She didn’t ask what would follow. She didn’t have to. I
f Jack really were a tracker, then he’d know how to get them out of danger.

  He didn’t watch her undress; he simply stared at the water sheeting the front windshield. But when she looked up, she could feel his anger. Funny how things go full circle.

  “How much cash do you have?”

  “That’s none of your business!” she cried.

  He barked out a laugh. “I’m only going to tell you this one more time. I’m your best shot at survival. Don’t question me. I know what I’m doing and how to do it. So make up your mind. Either I stay in the car, or I get out. If I get out, I’ll disappear.”

  “Do you really expect me to believe that? After what you’ve done? What’s stopping you from going back and turning me into that man who tried to kidnap me?” she spat back at him.

  “His name is Sam.” A tic flared in his cheek as his teeth clenched. Several moments passed before he replied. “And no, I won’t.”

  “Why? I don’t get it. Betraying me didn’t seem to bother you one bit even while we were on the ferry.”

  At least he had the grace to look a little ashamed. “We don’t have time to get this out in the open. Make a decision. I stay, or I go. We can knife each other to death later.”

  “Who says there’s going to be a later?” she shot back.

  He didn’t answer for a long moment. “If I stay, you’re stuck with me for the duration. No in-between and no halfway. If I’m going to be a Benedict Arnold, then I’m going to be a Benedict Arnold. Got that?”

  Flabbergasted, Morgan started laughing. “You expect me to trust you? After what you’ve done?”

  “I expect you to trust my abilities. I found you. I can lose you just as easily.”

  An empty hollow formed in the pit of her stomach. “God, I feel like a freaking package.”

  “Up until about ten minutes ago, that’s all you were.”

  “Sonofabitch!” Morgan hauled off and slapped his face again.

  He swung his head around to glare at her, then grabbed her arm and pulled her as close to his body as he could. “The first one, I deserved. The second one was for your pride. Don’t even think of going for three, got that?”

 

‹ Prev