by Anna Antonia
“Grigor Konstantinov died the same night Damian almost did.”
Searching Marcus’s face, I saw enough for me to believe him. Pain hit my heart for a man I never met. For my Damian.
Oh God.
When he remembered everything it meant he remembered Grigor’s death. Or maybe not. Maybe he didn’t know at all?
“How did he die? The same way Damian—”
“Yes. Damian went out to meet his father. Only one of them survived. All of this, Miss Kelly, was set into motion by Damian’s father for a reason. There are many moving parts and we need you to keep things running. So please, don’t make me chase after you. You won’t succeed and it will only increase the odds of failure for this plan. Grigor Konstantinov counted on you for a reason.”
My gaze flickered past Marcus’s shoulder. Elaine stood at the hangar entrance. I felt her keen stare boring into me. Suddenly, I didn’t doubt she would run me down if necessary.
“I don’t trust her.”
“I know, but you should.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“I’m sorry for that, but it doesn’t change the truth that I need your help, Miss Kelly.”
I quivered with indecision. Marcus could be full of shit. Or he could be telling the truth.
“You could just make me go and force me to do whatever it is you say you need. You hardly need my cooperation.”
“I could. I could walk you into that hangar, tell all parties involved to ignore what you say or do, and proceed with the plan. I don’t want to because I need you focused. Committed. None of this will work without you being on board 100%.”
There were a million reasons why I shouldn’t trust him.
But there was only one for why I had to take the chance.
Damian.
God, I hope I’m making the right decision.
I walked towards the hangar, stride quick if not quite confident. Marcus fell in step besides me.
“Thank you for taking a leap of faith, Miss Kelly.”
I couldn’t thank him. Not with Elaine staring me down.
20
Elaine turned away before I reached the entrance. Her heels clicked becomingly, matching her smooth, unruffled appearance.
No need for a showdown then.
I blinked rapidly, but my eyes had a rough time transitioning from the bright morning sun to the darkened cavern. Perhaps that was why I almost missed him.
A shrunken man, prematurely aged by the disease ravaging his body, leaned heavily on a metal chair set against a wall. His lack of hair, including eyebrows and eyelashes, along with the rounded face denoting steroids, announced his cancer.
I couldn’t tell exactly how old he was but something in his eyes spoke of youth. Pity stirred as I realized he probably wasn’t more than ten or fifteen years older than me.
He brought the oxygen mask up to his face and took a deep breath. His shriveled arm fell heavily against his lap. I saw the mottled bruising on the inside. It looked painful.
“This is the girl?”
Marcus answered. “The very one.”
The man’s milky gaze surveyed me. “You’ve transferred the money.”
Good manners prompted me to apologize for not understanding his question. Marcus answered instead.
“It’s in. The full amount plus ten percent for your troubles.”
The stranger wheezed. He fumbled to lift the mask up. No one made a move to help. I couldn’t stand to see him struggle, but I took a step forward when Marcus stayed me with a quick touch against my back.
The man got his mask on. We all stood there while he sucked in the air that came so easily to us. I winced at the tortured sounds, but was glad when he finally dropped his hand again.
“You got a sale then. Bring her in there.”
I quailed when I saw two large men equipped with metal cases go into the tiny office. I whipped my head towards Marcus, disbelief and fear stamped in my gaze. He didn’t bother to give reassurance.
Instead, he lifted his arm in a courtly gesture. I looked over to Elaine, hoping to find some sort of comfort there even though I should’ve known better by now.
Instead of serenity or even malice, I saw something that scared me even more.
Worry.
21
DAMIAN
Everything I believed about myself died today.
The first and only woman I loved learned about my past and rejected me.
My family betrayed me.
Risa’s kidnapper bested me.
And I didn’t know what to do.
Paralysis held me in its grip. I couldn’t escape the drain of my broken thoughts.
I thought I was a man of action. Nothing shook me. I didn’t get ambushed because I saw all the possibilities and prepared for them.
Today I realized there was large hole in my abilities.
I failed and I didn’t know what to do. I had no control of this situation. What was I supposed to do? No one trained me for this. I wasn’t supposed to be a man who lost.
Ever.
Yet today I did. Today I knew what it was to be human, helpless to someone stronger.
It shamed me. It broke me. I hated it. I didn’t want to be human like everyone else if it meant this.
What began as Risa’s name devolved into the wounded screams of a dying beast. Crazed, I fought off the hands that would help me. I couldn’t stop screaming when I heard the steady drone clipping through the air.
Then I went silent as if my vocal cords suddenly stopped working.
Wolffington managed to take me back to the compromised estate, leaving behind half his crew to comb over the entire area in search of clues.
They weren’t going to find anything that could help. At least, not in time to get Risa back.
It should’ve been an easy matter to track down the craft to an airport within a certain radius. If it was a legitimate flight. Any criminal worth his salt would land it off-grid or pay the bribes from here to the border.
Risa would be long gone by the time we tracked down the helicopter. She could be anywhere in the world by then.
Sitting there in the dark, right where Wolffington deposited me hours before, my eyesight recovered. My eardrums no longer ached. I was physically whole, lucky even that I hadn’t been mowed down by gunfire. The man had a clear shot.
Why did he let me live?
Why did he bring Risa to me only to take her away?
Why did my love reject me?
I didn’t have answers, not even ones I didn’t want. Nothing made sense. Elaine wanted me there at the meeting for a reason. To taunt me? To show she’d prevailed and turned Risa against me?
My clipped nails dug into the armrests. Risa’s expression haunted me. It was a study in opposites. Defiance and grief marked her pretty face, but it was her eyes that caught me. They drank me in as if she was dying of thirst.
Why? If she wanted to leave me, if she hated me enough to run away with a man who stole her, then why couldn’t she look away from me?
Her words damaged, rooted in ugly truth, but her eyes didn’t match. Her hands clenched and unclenched compulsively.
Dumping me should’ve brought her immense pleasure if she hated me. Knowing enough of my secrets disappointed Risa. I couldn’t deny it but…
Risa lied to me. She didn’t want to go. She’s been compelled.
The answer fit in perfectly.
I abruptly stood up, leaving the suite I’d shared with Risa, and marched downstairs. Wolffington had taken control of the formal dining room, spreading his impressive array of technical gear around available surfaces.
His large frame stilled when I entered. A furrow deepened on his brow as he took me in.
I very well could imagine his concern. Not for me necessarily, but for the precious seconds he’d lose while attending to my discombobulated state of mind. I hadn’t responded well before. He had no reason to expect anything different now.
The catatonic me of before
was gone. I understood what happened and why. With that, I’d find my love anywhere. I could still be me.
Perfectly in control.
“Risa is in the hands of a professional hired by Elaine. This won’t be one found in typical mercenary channels. It would be too easy to track him down otherwise.”
“Former Black Ops.”
“Yes. Search your contacts. Don’t stay within the US. He could be British, Russian, Australian, maybe Israeli. You’re looking for someone who has no family ties. Nothing to press upon.”
I didn’t need to elaborate. Wolffington understood. Considering the age of Risa’s captor, he probably ran across him in the shadowy ex-military world.
Which would explain the two-kilometer distance.
“Elaine won’t chance keeping Risa hostage in one of her homes. She’ll find an intermediary, one she can control because she has something more important to offer. It’ll be beyond money.”
“A favor.”
“A favor. Information. Something to be leveraged. I believe she’s been working with the Volkovs, but it could be another family. Or a branch of the government.”
“High-level players.”
“Very high.” I tapped against the desk. Panic surged at the thought of Risa in the company of vicious strangers. My little girl wasn’t meant to dine with wolves. She was too innocent to be in their company.
They’ll eat her alive and laugh.
“Do you have any ideas who it could be?”
“No.”
I didn’t have a clue. My business dealings with Elaine and Thomas were aboveboard. My honest life put me at a disadvantage.
You’ve been weak far longer than these last months. For all your talk, you don’t know how to navigate the channels Elaine and Thomas made their home in. Which means you can’t find Risa, much less protect her.
Self-loathing blackened my vision. What right did I have to call myself a man when I couldn’t stop her from being taken away?
Focus. My attention pinpointed down to this second. Risa’s safety and my sanity depended on it.
What did I have to do right now to work this problem?
Do that and then do the next one. On and on until you get her back.
“Okay, Black-Price. I’ll go through my channels, see what jobs have been taken recently.”
“Study the flow of money. Elaine won’t use her personal accounts. She’s too cautious and meticulous for that, but there might be overlap.”
“Overlap?”
Numbers and patterns were my strength. Elaine wasn’t perfect—no matter how good she was. Considering my loss of memory, human nature dictated she would’ve relaxed long enough to leave a crumb.
I’d find it.
“Patterns of overlap. Lapses of money coming in or out of the account, cross-referenced with times she or Thomas were out of New York, should betray her using a variety of secret accounts.”
Wolffington’s large, scarred hand cupped his chin. His pale gaze sharpened in thought. “Unless they went underground, there’s bound to be a digital trail. Public cameras should give us enough of a snapshot to develop a history. I’ll be able to web it out to all contacts in the area. We’ll hit something.”
I tapped the table once. “I want everyone looking for Risa. Not just clean channels. I need the word on the street.”
“That’s not in my wheelhouse, but I know who to contact.”
“I don’t care what I have to pay—just make it happen.”
I may not have known how to work Elaine’s world, but I’d learn.
I’m coming for you, Risa. I swear I’ll find you—no matter what.
22
RISA
“Strap her down.”
I jerked back, arms raised and ready to swing at the first person who had the audacity to come at me.
“What the hell is going on?” I heard the dying man’s demands go up another notch, but my mind blanked out. There was no way he was serious! “Don’t touch me!”
Marcus held out a hand. “Have some tact, McGuire.”
“Tact? Tact is for people who have time. Something none of us in this room have.” He shuffled closer to me, dragging his oxygen tank behind. “Girlie, I’m telling you one more time. Pull off your top, get your sweet ass up on this desk, and lay face down. I don’t want to tell you again, ya here?”
Unkind observations regarding his health swam through the outrage fogging my brain.
“I’m not doing that, McGuire.”
He coughed, face turning tomato. “You’re pretty brave for someone who’s been bought and paid for.” McGuire eyed my whitened face with morbid amusement. “Not that it makes any difference, girlie, but we’re all in the same boat. So make this easy for us both, why don’t ya?”
I gaped at him. The two burly men stood on either side of the battered but enormous desk, metal cases open revealing a stomach-churning array of silver instruments.
Marcus touched my hand. “Miss Kelly, no one is going to hurt you unnecessarily.”
Refusing to take my gaze off McGuire, I muttered, “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“I know.”
Lowering my voice, I pointed at the silent men apparently waiting for me to present myself like a fish about to be fileted. “What are they going to do?”
“Not you so keep your panties on.”
My pity for the dying man faded with each word wheezing out of his damned dirty mouth.
“Miss Kelly, these men are going to give you a tattoo.”
“What. The. Fuck?”
“It’s a necessary evil for the plan.”
“You keep talking about a plan, but you’re not sharing a damn thing about it. You all just expect me to lay on that dirty desk, expose myself, and let you ink me? No. Tell me why first.”
“Fucking strap her down and get this over with. I don’t have all—”
McGuire’s surly voice cut off when Marcus raised one finger.
“Miss Kelly, it’s completely understandable that this is unnerving. You have no reason to trust us, especially not with the permanence of what we’re asking you to do. Know if there was any other way, I wouldn’t ask it of you. But it has to be done. This is just one of the sacrifices I asked you to be prepared for. Remember, it’s not going to be easy, but you can do this.”
I crossed my arms, wanting to look away from his intense stare. “I don’t like it.”
“I know.”
Marcus ignored the other man’s labored sighs. He stood there, outwardly patient while awaiting my response. His calmness centered me. Whether I liked it or not, Marcus became the only ally I had in the room.
“It’s necessary?”
“Very.”
I looked back over to the silent giants. Their attention gave nothing away. “Can you tell me why?”
“Afterwards.”
I clenched and unclenched my hands. Elaine’s worried expression circled through my mind. She knew what they planned on doing. Why did it give her concern?
Was it feminine sympathy? Or something else?
Fuck…am I blazing stupid to entertain this? I’m walking blind here and running into every damned wall as a result.
Resistance might get me to walk out of here with unmarked skin but it could also ruin Damian’s chances.
“All right. Let’s get this over with.”
Marcus smiled. He looked so sweet, unthreatening, and friendly. It would’ve knocked me on my ass if I was a different kind of woman. Instead, I stomped over to the desk and yanked off my coat with jittery motions.
I didn’t have a tattoo for a reason. Now I was about to get one in a very unhygienic environment. In front of a group of men I didn’t even know anything about other than they didn’t give a damn about it.
Don’t show anymore fear. Be strong.
“Just the top?” I announced to the room at large.
“Yeah. We don’t need to see your titties.”
I glared at McGuire. “You don’t
have to be so crude.”
This seemed to amuse him more than insult. “Girlie, you haven’t even heard me begin to be crude.”
Marcus instructed the silent sentries to give me a moment of privacy. They complied easily. McGuire snorted. Marcus shrugged off his coat and held it up before looking away. “McGuire, do the same as your men.”
“Shit, what for? She don’t got anything I haven’t already seen. Better I might add too. She don’t got enough tits to make my dick hard.”
“McGuire, have you seen what an open flame can do to oxygen?”
He snapped his mouth shut, grumbling as he shuffled enough to turn his back.
Taking advantage of the makeshift privacy, I took my lightweight sweater off along with an undershirt. This left me in my bra. I crossed my arms over my chest and scooted onto the desk.
The cold metal caused goosebumps to break over my body. Marcus picked up my clothes and draped them over my lower half. He then placed his coat over me as well.
“This should help keep you warm.”
I whispered my thanks, stiffening my body to keep the shivers from taking hold of me.
“Listen to you. Talking to her all proper as if you’re not the meanest sonofabitch walking the planet.”
Marcus shrugged, boyish grin dancing on his lips. “Today I’m not. And it’s called being kind to the fairer sex. You should try it some time.”
“I don’t need to. I’m accepted just as I am—crude and all.”
I couldn’t imagine the woman thick-skinned enough to stay more than five minutes in McGuire’s presence. He probably called her sugar-tits on a good day and smacked her ass every time she walked by.
Yet, surreptitious peeks into his face told me there was at least one on the planet. McGuire positively looked like a man deep in the throes of love.
The woman must be a saint.
“All right. Let’s get this shit show on the road.” McGuire’s oxygen tank squeaked as he dragged it over to me. He touched my back with a surprisingly gentle hand. “She’s right-handed, so you’re gonna want it here, see? Too high and it’ll be exposed all the time. It’s a message, understand? Also if it’s up too high she won’t be able to reach for it. Won’t be worth shit then.”
