"So, Angie, you're awake," he said, then leaned toward her. "Or should I say, Cindy?"
She forced down the panic that threatened to consume her, and responded in carefully controlled confusion. "Cindy? What are you talking about?" Gingerly, she touched the side of her head where she'd connected with the desk, wincing at the feel of dried blood in her hair. "I thought I was the one who got hit on the head, not you."
"Can it!" he snapped. "I know all about you. You've never been part of the family. You've been working against us all along." His tone crackled with dark menace. Hazily, she realized she was back at her own townhouse, lying on her own couch and Dino sat in the armchair across from her. Why had Dino brought her here? Ignoring the blistering complaints blazing through her head, she jerked upright to a sitting position.
My God, she thought. Where was Frank? Was he okay? Somehow she had to warn him. If it wasn't too late. The thought sent a shiver of terror through her.
How much did they know?
As though in answer to her unspoken question, a voice dragged her attention to the door.
Frank's voice.
"They know all about us, Angel," he said, his expression grim.
Why didn't she feel relief seeing him there holding a gun? He had the superior position with Dino turned away from him and no one else in the room. Dino didn't lower his own gun and seemed totally unsurprised by Frank's arrival. What was going on?
Frank continued talking in a monotone.
"They know you've always worked for the Feds and have been under deep cover for the past ten years. They know I married you to set up a cover to break the Vendetti case."
"Frank! How did they find out?"
Dino started to chuckle and Frank laughed along with him. The sound sent chills through her, right to the hollow of her bones.
"I told them, baby," Frank answered, his face drawn into a cruel smile.
"What?" No, this couldn't be true. What was Frank up to? "Why would you do that?" Her voice was a mere whisper.
He turned and paced across the room. "I'm tired of working as an undercover cop, taking all kinds of chances and making peanuts. It's as simple as that. I'm in as much danger as these guys," he said, waving a hand in Dino's direction, "but with a fraction of the payoff. I figured if I gave them something they wanted I could get a piece of the action." He stared at her, his eyes glinting coldly in the lamplight. "So I gave them you." His face went dead serious. "Vendetti's offered me a huge bonus, and with some of the other skills I can put to use for him…" He shrugged. "It was worth taking a few losses," he said as his gaze slid over her.
Dino cocked his gun at her, looking down the sights. "And with you out of the way, he can continue to pretend he's working for the Feds. He'll be able to provide us with some very useful inside information."
She dragged her attention away from Dino's gun and back to Frank. The coldness of his expression added to the growing coldness in her gut.
Could the appeal of money be so strong? No, she couldn't believe that about Frank. She knew his sense of ethics and family loyalties were stronger than that. And… and she really couldn't believe he'd do this to her. He'd told her he loved her. And she'd believed him.
Of course, neither of those things made it true.
He'd worked undercover before. In fact, how did she know any of what he'd told her was true? All she knew about his family and background was what he'd told her. When an agent was undercover, he had to be able to manufacture a background, and he had to be a good actor. What did she really know about him? He'd told her a completely different story four years ago and she had believed him then as easily as now.
Even if he had loved her as much as she believed, without meaning to she had dealt him a terrible blow. He thought she'd turned her back on him and… it must have been as if she'd betrayed him all over again. Over these past couple of weeks, he'd acted as if he couldn't stand the sight of her. Could his love have turned to hate?
"What are you going to do with me?" she asked, watching him, trying to judge his expression.
"Grow up, Angel. What do you think?" Frank muttered.
No, he couldn't really mean to kill her. She focused on Dino's gun, which was pointed at her. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. Good Lord, this couldn't really be happening.
"Don't worry, baby. We're not going to do it now. Dino, put that down. You're making our… guest nervous."
Reluctantly, Dino lowered the weapon.
"Frank. How can you do this? After all we've…"
He strode over to her and clamped his hand around her jaw. She searched his eyes for any sign of caring, or softness… any sign that this was just a scam for Dino's benefit. That's what it had to be, she knew. For some reason, he felt this was necessary. But both his expression and his grip were hard and uncompromising.
"You were just a means to an end, sweetheart. I've wanted to get into the mob for a long time now. This opportunity just fell into my lap." His gaze raked over her in an insulting manner. "You were just an unexpected fringe benefit."
"But you told me… Didn't it mean anything—" She stopped and sucked in a deep breath, trying to get control of her roiling emotions. "How can you turn your back on me after—"
He raised his eyebrows. "After all we've been through? You mean because we slept together?" He chuckled. "Come on, baby. The sex was good—but no sex is that good."
He moved his hand down her shoulder, which pulled the neckline of her shirt open, straining against the buttons, exposing part of her right breast. She slapped his hand, then grabbed his wrist and tried to push it away, but her efforts merely exposed more flesh. Frank laughed.
"Did you think because you gave me your virginity, I'd stay by your side forever, like some bloody knight in shining armour. It was a challenge, that's all. You were ripe for the picking and you fell into my arms with a little persistence and a few well chosen words." He stroked his fingers along her cheek and she jerked away from him as though stung. "I did enjoy it, though. You'd be pretty good in the sack with a bit more experience." He brought his lips down on hers, hard. She struggled against him, but he took his time finishing the kiss, if it could be called that. When he finally pulled back, he looked at her in amusement. "I'd love to be the one to teach you, sweetheart," he said, "but I've got more important things to attend to right now." She felt the colour drain from her face.
He shoved her towards Dino, who caught her by the arms and pushed her down onto the couch. Frank's cruel eyes mocked her. She huddled into the couch as he snapped orders to Dino.
"Keep her here until you hear from me."
"How long, Frank?" Dino asked.
"About an hour." With that he left, closing the door firmly behind him.
Angel sat staring at the door, still in shock. He couldn't say those things to her, do those things, if he really loved her. Bleakly, she forced herself to accept that this was really happening. Remembering what the mob had done to her parents, terror quivered through her. But could any physical pain compare with the pain of Frank's betrayal?
Slowly, she became aware of Dino sitting beside her, his gun out of sight. He reached out his hand and stroked up and down her arm.
"You slept with him at the drop of a hat, but me you pushed away for months." His voice was deadly quiet.
She twisted her head to stare at him. Her heart hammered loudly in her chest. She was no longer under the protection of the family and a new fear ripped through her.
"I always followed all the rules with you. Well, now there are no rules."
He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and pressed her down onto the sofa. His cold eyes darkened with a mixture of hostility and desire. "Tell you what. Give me what I want and I'll make sure the end is relatively neat and painless." Planting his lips firmly on hers, he started to assault her with his tongue. She allowed him to slide it between her teeth, then she clamped down, tasting blood. Italian words she had never heard before tore from his mouth, then her fac
e stung with the force of his slap.
"You little bitch." He ripped her shirt open and grabbed the soft flesh of her breast, bruising, punishing.
"No," she whimpered, raking at him, pushing him away. Tears streamed down her face, but she barely noticed. A terrible sorrow drained her strength, leaving her weak and vulnerable. She'd lost everything that mattered to her. She wasn't sure she could feel anything else.
Frank's angry voice shouted at Dino from the door. How long had he been there? Suddenly, Dino was dragged from the couch and Angel heard the crack of a fist meeting jawbone.
"Stay away from her."
Dino, now sprawled on the floor, wiped his wrist across his mouth, blood smearing the sleeve of his shirt. "Why, Frank? What does it matter to you if I have a little fun?"
"Because, you fool, we may need you. If you're… preoccupied with her then you won't be thinking straight, will you?" Frank's gaze raked across Angel's partially bared breasts. A nerve twitched in his jaw as his glittering eyes stared at her. "Cover yourself."
He watched her grab the afghan off the back of the couch and wrap it around herself, then glared back at Dino. "You'd better come with me. I can't trust you to think with your head."
He stalked to the door and called someone named Endo. A tall, gaunt man stepped into the room and Frank gave him instructions to watch Angel as he dragged Dino out the door.
Endo sat at the table and played solitaire for the next quarter hour, ignoring her and her anxiety. Angel sat in silence, numb, hardly believing the turn of events. Finally, her sense of duty started to tip the scales against the sense of desolation that had held her in stasis. She couldn't just sit here, letting events unfold around her without any resistance. She clutched the afghan and stood up.
The click of a gun being cocked stopped her cold.
"What do you think you're doing?" Endo grunted.
"I want to get a sweater."
"Okay." He stood up to follow her.
She shuffled across the room and down the hall to the bedroom. When he stepped into the room behind her, she stuttered, "I'm not really decent under this. Couldn't you…"
"You ain't got nothing I haven't seen before, lady."
Resignedly, she snatched a black pullover sweater out of a dresser drawer and turned her back on him. She discarded the blouse and quickly dragged the sweater over her head.
How could she get rid of this thug? She stepped into the hall and stopped. He almost bowled over her.
"Sorry, I… I have to go to the bathroom." She prayed he wouldn't insist on following her in there.
"All right. You go in and leave the door partially open so I can hear you. If you're not out in two minutes, I come in after you."
She really did have to go and finished in record time. She washed and dried her hands, then reached for her hand cream, but the familiar white and aqua dispenser was missing. Pulling open the door of the vanity, she peered underneath, searching for the new one she'd bought last week. Odd, two bottles stood side by side under the counter: one unopened, the other about half full. Frowning, she grabbed the open one and, to her shock, revealed a revolver behind it. Her eyes widened and she snatched it up.
Could it be…? Could Frank have planted this here for her to find? So she could escape? She checked that the safety was on and stuffed it in the waistband of her jeans, glad the sweater she'd chosen was bulky enough to hide it.
The door swung open and Endo glared at her. "If you're finished, get out here."
She proceeded him down the hall back to the living room. Sitting on the couch, she waited for him to continue his game. As soon as he placed his gun down on the table, she snatched the gun from beneath her sweater and fired, shooting his out of reach.
"What the…?"
His expression was one of stunned amazement as he glanced up and saw the barrel of her gun pointed at his face. Silently, she thanked the Bureau for her training in handling weapons, and God for her natural ability to shoot straight and on target.
She ordered him into the closet and barricaded the door with a dining room chair. It wouldn't hold him long, but it should give her enough time to get back to FBI headquarters, and safety… for now.
She snatched up the phone and dialed her emergency number, telling the operator her ID number and location. He told her a car would pick her up at a specific intersection five blocks away in fifteen minutes.
As she raced out the door and down the street, she realized her cover was truly blown. There'd be no going back. The Bureau would give her a new identity and set her up in some obscure location. It would be a long time before she could return to active duty, if ever.
She turned a corner and raced down the alleyway. Her heart pumped erratically. One thought bounced within her brain.
She could run.
She could hide.
But never would she be able to forget Frank and what they'd shared.
Never.
In Too Deep: Chapter Eleven
Angel wandered down the quiet street leading to her little brick bungalow carrying a net bag full of fresh fruit. The town she lived in was called Tambrook Falls, in Vermont. It was a small, friendly place where the townsfolk knew everyone else by name. No one was a stranger for long.
When Angel had first come here a month ago, she'd hidden away in her little house. In New York, she could enjoy anonymity in the middle of a crowd. Here, that was impossible. She'd shied away from the welcoming faces, erecting a barrier against everyone. Soon her neighbours had stopped calling on her. Her cover story was that she'd suffered from a hard divorce.
The people were a sympathetic lot and she felt sure she'd be able to make a place for herself in the community once she was ready to seek company. For now, though, she needed time alone. She was still reeling from the blow of losing her job. Her identity. Her life.
And what hurt the most.
Losing Frank.
She sighed, filling her lungs with crisp autumn air. One good thing about Vermont was the fresh air and open spaces. She had time to think. To evaluate her losses and what she wanted from life. At one time, all she had wanted was revenge. For her parents' death. For her lonely teenage years. For her loss of a normal life. But she'd spent her whole adult life trying to wreak that vengeance. It was time to let go.
Every time she walked into town and saw the children in the playground, saw couples walking through the park holding hands, families in the grocery store shopping together, she realized that most of the worthwhile things in life that had nothing to do with the mob or law enforcement. She could choose other ways to live her life.
If only she could live hers with Frank. Her life was so empty without him.
Angel knew Frank hadn't really gone over to the mob. The belief had burrowed so deeply within her that she didn't even question it any more. Hal wouldn't tell her anything about the case, or Frank, but she knew. If she'd had any doubts at all, finding that gun in the bathroom had squelched them. Frank had planted it there for her to find so she could escape. He'd needed to blow her cover to keep his own intact so he could continue the case—and to keep them both alive. Given that she'd been caught snooping in Carlos' office, she'd already blown her own. It had been a calculated risk on Frank's part, but the professional in her admired him for it. And the woman in her understood the necessity. Now she hoped and prayed that once he finished the case, he'd find her. Until then, all she could do was wait.
Angel grabbed her mail from the mailbox at the end of her driveway, then strolled up her front walk with a wide smile, leaves crunching under her feet. She opened the front door and kicked off her shoes. Her mail and purse landed on the dining room table with a thunk. She went into the kitchen and laid her sack on the counter, then filled the kettle with water to make a pot of tea. After putting away her groceries, she tossed an Earl Grey tea bag into the white china pot graced with blue flowers. The kettle whistled cheerily and she filled the pot, then covered it with a thick wool tea cozy she'd knit herself.
The doorbell rang and she turned, startled. She wasn't used to getting visitors, at least not since that first week. She was getting out more now, but people still respected her desire for privacy. She padded over to the door and tugged it open.
The sight of a tall man wearing a well-cut wool suit startled her. Then her gaze settled on his face.
"Frank! What are you doing here?" She was flabbergasted. Both elation and caution trilled through her as she noted his taut expression.
"Are you going to ask me in?" His voice was subdued.
This wasn't how she'd imagined this meeting between them. In all her dreams of this moment, he held his arms open and she threw herself into his embrace, then their lips met and…
"Well?" His gaze swept along the street. He seemed edgy.
"Uh, of course." She stepped aside and he strode into the room, glancing around. She closed the door and spun back to see him staring at her, his expression unreadable.
"Frank?" Why wasn't he throwing his arms around her, explaining to her, kissing her? "Are you finished the case? Did you catch the informant?" she hazarded.
"Angel, I can't talk about that. Not yet."
"Then why—" It came out a croak so she tried again. "Why are you here?"
Frank glanced sharply at the window. Angel thought she heard a car pull up. It sounded like her driveway, but it must have been the neighbour's.
Frank slid a gun out of a chest holster. "There's a little problem I have to take care of." He stared at her, the gun angled toward the floor.
She backed away. Good Lord, he meant to kill her. "No." Her voice came out a hoarse whisper. Could she have been wrong about him? Had her certainty that he loved her, that he'd never betray her, been just wishful thinking on her part? She spun around and bolted for the door.
Frank tackled her, throwing them both toward the wall beside the door. Her hands shot up to take the impact, then Frank collided with her back.
"Angel, for God's sake!"
She twisted around. Face to face, the length of their bodies pressed together, they both gulped air in great gasps. The look in his eyes confused her. Dark and dangerous and yet surging with emotion. Not the dead calm of a killer. He shifted slightly and her body, vividly aware of his heat, responded with an intense stirring of desire.
Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers Page 115
