by Kris Norris
Kendall dropped the phone on the bar and pressed her head into her hands.
Dawson hung up the line and touched her shoulders. “Come on. Let me help you into bed.”
She pulled away and headed for the couch. “I need to be alone for a while. You know he won’t come for me tonight.”
“I’m not leaving you alone.”
“You should’ve left me behind and just saved Trace. You never should’ve come back for me.” She closed her eyes and fell back on the cushions.
* * * *
“This isn’t good.” Mitchell sat at the table, holding his cell phone. “Director Wells just called. He’s coming right over. He mumbled something about doing his job, regardless of how Kendall felt.”
Dawson put his elbows on the table and ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t think he’d go after Jody.”
“He’s setting the stage. Forcing our hand.” Mitchell sighed. “Unless you play your trump card, our hands will be tied, you know that.”
“If we expose the link now, Garrick will disappear. Our only chance is to catch him at his own game. He thinks I don’t trust you. We might be able to use that to our advantage.”
“You’ll be putting her at risk.”
“I’m not exactly doing a great job here. She’s right. It’s only a matter of time before he takes her. We need to end this, now.”
“So, we play along?” asked Mitchell.
“For now.” Dawson put his head down on the table.
Mitchell sighed. “Sorry to interrupt you earlier. It looked like things were…progressing.”
“Any progress I made is gone now. She didn’t just rebuild the walls, she reinforced them with steel bars.” He paused, glancing back in the direction of the study. “I’m losing her.”
Dawson’s heart clenched at the thought. Three attempts to show her how deep his feelings ran. To give her the pleasure she deserved, and prove her trust in him wasn’t misplaced, and all he’d managed to do was take. Left her shaking with her need for completion. Hell, she’d practically climaxed with one simple touch of his finger through her clothes. A few more passes, and she would have been screaming out in his arms, reveling in the heat of her release, his name a rough entreaty on her lips. God, how he wanted to hear her moan his name, knowing it was his touch that had taken her to the edge. He shook his head. He should’ve ignored Mitchell and taken the time to please her. Better still, he should’ve stuck to his original plan and licked her into an orgasm instead of allowing her to take control, and sucking him dry. He’d been a fool and now she was so far gone, he didn’t know if he could get her back. He wanted to scream in frustration, but only succeeded in mumbling a hushed curse.
Mitchell chuckled. “You know something, Dawson? I never thought I’d see the day you fell in love.”
Dawson snapped his head up. “Am I that cold?”
“No. But you never seemed to give anyone a chance. I think you were always too busy trying to deserve the chance you were given.” Mitchell stood up. “You’re a lot like her. I’d better go check on Trace. Have you told her about your abduction yet?”
“No.”
“It couldn’t hurt.” He walked out.
Dawson walked back to the study. Kendall was still on the couch with her eyes closed, but he knew she wasn’t sleeping. He’d wanted to tell her about his experience for some time, but never seemed to be able to find the right words. He moved to the edge and sat down. She opened her eyes as the couch dipped beneath his weight, but didn’t say anything. “Kendall?”
“You should move Trace.”
“I need to move you.”
“I won’t go anywhere. No more running, Dawson. No more.”
“I can’t protect you here.”
“I know. That’s why I’m calling the Director in the morning. I want everyone out.”
“I won’t do that.”
“I’m done. I have the right to refuse protection, and I’m exerting that right.” She turned to look at him, tears in her eyes. “Thank you. I never thought I’d ever know what it was like to love someone. Now please go.” She turned away, pulling her knees tight.
Dawson heard the front door open. He sighed and left the study.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I’d like to say good evening, gentlemen, but this evening has been far from good.” Wells stepped through the door, handing his coat to one of the agents. “Where are the Walkers now?”
“Trace is upstairs in his room,” said Mitchell. “And Kendall is in the study.”
Wells met Dawson halfway down the hall and followed him to the kitchen. “And what about this Jody girl? I assume she stayed as well?”
“Yes. Both her and Logan are in the guest room. We’ve got agents watching them.” Mitchell held out the coffee pot to Wells.
He nodded and sat down. “Well, it would appear Garrick Black has decided to escalate his approach. It seems anyone involved with the Walkers is now fair game.”
“He picked Jody because she’s Kendall’s best friend. He wanted to show her how much control he has over her life. I can assure you she got the point,” said Dawson.
“You seem to have an intimate understanding of Garrick. I’m not sure you want to pursue that any further. He’s not the sort of man you want to link with, if you know what I mean.” Wells took a swig of coffee. “Whatever Garrick’s motivations are, we need to act quickly, before he decides to show Kendall more violent examples of his affections.”
“This attack on Jody has pushed her over the edge.” Dawson shook his head. “She’s not thinking rationally anymore. She just told me she planned on calling you in the morning, to withdraw our protective services. She wants everyone out.”
“What?” Mitchell’s eyes widened. “She can’t be serious. If we leave, there’ll be nothing to stop Garrick from taking her whenever he pleases.”
“She knows, but it doesn’t seem to matter to her anymore.” Dawson looked down at the table. “She just tried to set up a rendezvous, so she could give herself to him. She blames herself for Jody’s attack, and can’t stand the thought of anyone else getting hurt because of her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she just sat here, and waited for him to come to her.”
“All the more reason for us to act now,” said Wells. “I told you before, Dawson. If I thought their lives were in imminent danger I’d take matters into my own hands, whether they liked it or not. This situation with Garrick has gone far beyond just the Walkers. He’s killed four of my agents, and made a mockery of our entire operation. And I won’t allow the emotions of one woman to ruin our chances of capturing him. Whether Kendall wants to acknowledge it or not, as long as we have her in our possession, Garrick will expose himself to risk, to get her. And that’s just what we need to catch the man.”
Dawson met Wells’ gaze. “She won’t leave. Not without a fight.”
“How she goes is her choice, Dawson. But she’s going. Make no mistake of that.” Wells leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Where and when?” asked Mitchell.
“I’ve got a helicopter coming first thing in the morning. I’m just not sure where to send you. I can’t have any of our safe houses up to specifications before Monday. I was wondering about those cabins you called me about? I was going to say no, just for the security issues, but I’m reconsidering. Perhaps something so unusual is just what we need to fool Garrick?”
“But what about this attack on Jody?” said Mitchell. “Since the cabins belong to a friend of hers, isn’t there a chance Garrick already knows about them?”
“I did a thorough check when you made the request, and wasn’t able to find any connection to Garrick Black. The man who owns them is peripheral to both Jody and Logan. He seems to be more of a friend of a friend. As far as I can tell, he only thinks Jody and Logan are going up. They didn’t mention anything to him about Kendall or Trace. And something tells me it can’t be any worse than here. Garrick has managed to breach our security on mor
e than one occasion. Besides, it’s only for a few days. I doubt even he’ll be able to track you down that fast. By the time he hunts out your location, you’ll be on your way to the safe house.”
“I guess it’s your call, Sir,” said Mitchell.
“Dawson?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Can you convince Ms. Walker to go?”
“Like I said. She made her position crystal clear.”
“So be it. Mitchell, go get Dr. Simms. We’ll need her assistance.”
Mitchell nodded, glancing sideways at Dawson.
Dawson forced a smile as Mitchell walked out of the room.
“If you have a problem with my decision, I suggest you voice it now, Dawson. I’m sure Kendall will be more comfortable if you’re there, but it’s not imperative. I can keep her sedated for the length of her stay if I have to.”
“That won’t be necessary, Sir. I’ll go.”
“Good.” Wells stood as Dr. Simms walked into the kitchen. “Ah, Dr. Simms.” He shook the woman’s hand. “I have another situation in need of your professional expertise.”
* * * *
“I sure hope you guys know what you’re doing?” Trace stood in the kitchen, his arms crossed in front of him. “Kendall’s not going to like being forced.”
“Director Wells made it clear Kendall’s feelings aren’t part of the equation,” said Mitchell, attempting to smile at Trace’s frown. “Besides, in the end, it’s in her best interest.”
“Just don’t ask me to be there when you tell her,” said Trace. “I don’t want to get hit with anything.”
“Wells isn’t going to ask her,” replied Mitchell, nodding as Dr. Simms walked through the kitchen on her way to the study.
“What do you mean?” asked Trace, a hint of panic in his voice.
“Wells wants her sedated for the ride. He doesn’t want to risk she’ll somehow get away from us.” Mitchell looked at Dawson. “Hey, you okay?”
“She’ll hate us for this,” he said.
“For a while, maybe. But leaving her here alone isn’t any better. At least this way we have a chance at keeping her safe.”
Dawson frowned and headed down the hall, followed by Mitchell and Trace. Dr. Simms was standing at the doorway, watching.
“I don’t like this,” said Trace. “She doesn’t like being sedated.” He stepped toward the door. “Let me talk to her first.”
Dr. Simms held out her arm, blocking Trace’s way. “We’ll only get one shot at this,” she warned. “If you wake her up, and she refuses, I’ll be forced to have you all hold her down.”
Trace winced. “Neither option sounds good to me, but there’s no way in hell I’ll hold her down. Just make sure you finish before she wakes up. If she comes to in the middle, it won’t be pretty.”
“This isn’t my first sedation on an unwilling patient. She won’t feel a thing.” Dr. Simms removed a small needle from her case, tapping it twice. Then she tiptoed into the room, bending down in front of the couch. Kendall had wrapped her arms around one of the pillows. Dr. Simms smiled, unfolding one of her arms as she slid the needle under her skin.
Kendall opened her eyes, flinching backwards just as Simms removed the needle. She looked down, her head already heavy. “What the…?” She jumped up, knocking the woman on her back. Then she swung around, grabbing the couch as her vision blurred. Trace, Dawson, and Mitchell were standing in the doorway, their faces somber. “What the hell did you do to me?”
She backed away as Trace walked into the room. “Easy, sis. Everything’s going to be okay. Just try to relax.”
“How could you?” she slurred, stumbling to the far wall, brushing against a large bookcase. She growled at the three men and grabbed a book from the shelf. She had every intention of flinging it across the room at them, but it fell from her grasp as soon as she picked it up.
“No,” she sobbed, taking one more step back before falling to her knees. “Oh God, Trace, no drugs. You know how much this terrifies me!”
“It’s okay,” said Trace again, reaching out to her. “I promise. Please trust me.”
“Please, don’t do this,” she cried, her vision fading. “Please.” She passed out.
Dawson crossed the room, watching Trace rock Kendall in his arms. His face was pale, and he was stroking her hair.
“We shouldn’t have done it this way,” said Trace. “It wasn’t right, not after…” His voice trailed off. “She didn’t deserve to be tricked like this. I should’ve tried to reason with her.”
Dawson patted Trace on the shoulder. “We both know being reasonable isn’t one of her better qualities.” He set his jaw, wondering what secret Trace was hiding. “Come on. It’s almost time to leave. You need to pack some stuff for the two of you.”
“What about Kendall? I won’t leave her here alone like this.”
“I’ll take her.” Dawson knelt down, brushing the hair from her eyes. Even asleep she looked frightened. “It’ll be okay, Trace.” He reached out, taking her in his arms.
“I’m only doing this because I trust you, Dawson. Make no mistake. If anything happens to Kendall because of this, I’ll hold the Bureau responsible.”
“You mean me.”
Trace returned his stare. “I won’t let Garrick hurt her.”
“Neither will I. Now go. There isn’t much time.”
Trace nodded and headed for door.
Dawson watched him leave before standing up. He knew Kendall would never forgive him for this, but she’d forced his hand. He couldn’t let her surrender to Garrick, not without a fight. He loved her too much for that. He brushed his lips against her forehead, and headed for the door.
* * * *
“Mmm.” Kendall fought against the numbing fog. Her head felt heavy and her stomach was nauseous. She groaned. She could feel someone stroking her face, the cloth cool and damp.
“Just relax,” the voice said.
She cracked open her eyes. “Trace?”
He smiled. “Easy, sis. We haven’t been here that long. You should try to sleep for a few more hours. You’ll feel better if you do.”
“Why, Trace?”
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t have a choice.”
“Yes, you did. You could’ve asked me first.”
“And have to watch them hold you down when you refused? I’m sorry, Kendall, but I’m not that strong.”
Kendall could hear the pain in his voice. She closed her eyes and let the darkness claim her again.
* * * *
Kendall rolled over in the bed, staring at the wall. The room was bathed in a soft, pale light, muted by the long, sheer curtains covering a large window at the foot of the bed. She’d watched the color change from mauve to yellow as night faded into day. She’d spent most of yesterday in and out of consciousness, trying to counteract the effects of the drug. Trace had stayed by her side, stroking her face whenever she managed to open her eyes. She hadn’t seen Dawson or Mitchell, but had heard their mumbled voices in the background. It was well beyond sunset by the time she’d regained enough of her senses to shoo Trace from the room, promising him he’d regret ever taking Dawson’s side. Then she’d spent the night plagued by dreams of Garrick, feeling him touch her, his cold skin pressed against hers.
Dawson had come to the door twice, opening it enough to peek inside before closing it again, never speaking.
She growled, more than angry with him. And while she understood his concern, she didn’t know if she could forgive him for tricking her like this. She despised being drugged. It was her one true fear. One she would have confided in him, if he’d bothered to ask, but not now. She closed her eyes, fighting against the tears that seemed to pool every time she thought of him, as she listened to them talking, their voices faint echoes from the other room. She wondered how long it’d be until they came to check on her again.
A knock.
She turned her head, but didn’t answer.
“Kendall?”
It was Trace. She frowned knowing they’d sent him, in the hope she’d be more reasonable. “What do you want?”
“You haven’t had anything other than water since the other day. You need to eat something.”
“No thank you. I’m not hungry.”
Trace walked over to the bed. “Look, I know you’re mad, but this isn’t helping. Maybe now you know why I didn’t talk to you first? Once you make your mind up about something, you won’t see it any other way.”
Kendall rolled over. “I said no thank you.”
Trace took a step back and glanced at the door. He looked like he was about to make a run for it when he took a deep breath. “Come on. At least come out and join us.”
“You shouldn’t have let them drug me. You know how much I hate that!” She broke his gaze. “It was bad enough Garrick…” She stopped. She’d told Trace very little about her exploit in the cellar, and she wasn’t about to fill in the details now.
“Oh God, Kendall, I didn’t know!” He took another step closer. “You didn’t tell me Garrick…in the cellar?”
“Just like when Dad…” She sobbed.
“Trace.”
He turned. Dawson was standing in the doorway, a cup in his hand. Trace looked back at her, but she glowered at him, rolling over in an attempt to hide the tears. She heard Trace sigh, his footsteps fading from the room. She snagged her lip, willing Dawson to leave, only to have his voice sound behind her.
“I brought you some tea.”
“I already told Trace I don’t need anything.” Her voice wavered as she strove to swallow the tears already dampening her cheeks.
“And I already told you, if you’re determined to make things unpleasant, I’m up for the challenge. Now please sit up and take the tea.” He waited, huffing out his breath when she didn’t move. “Kendall. It’s already been a day. Now I realize you’re upset about how we brought you here, but sitting there, brooding about it, isn’t going to change anything.”
“I’m not brooding.”
“Of course not. The fact that you won’t eat or drink, or even leave the room doesn’t in any way suggest you’re brooding. How silly of me.”
