Kidnapped Hearts

by Cait Jarrod

  He returned the guns to the table under the picture of the naked woman. He was frantic with the need to stroke every inch of her, to make sure she was okay and to have her as naked as the painting.

  Their gazes locked. He was afraid he’d lost her. No more being patient. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered, stroking a finger down her cheek.

  She covered his hand with hers. “I’m glad you’re okay, too, but what happened to your face?”

  “I got in the way of a pissed off Scorpion.” Like his colleague said about his nose and the Berretta, “My partner, Kershaw, and I took care of him.”

  “A gun?”

  “Knife.”

  Pamela’s mouth formed an O. “As long as he can’t do this to you again.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed his bruise. The spattering of kisses continued to his neck.

  Jake tilted his head, enjoying her soft lips against his skin. It occurred to him that when he had been on his undercover assignment, every time he’d returned from working on the fishing boat, Jennifer had never been concerned about bruises or scars. Now that he had discovered that Jennifer knew the real identity of The Warrior, knew that she was aware that his life was in peril whenever he walked out the front door, he couldn’t believe he considered himself in love.

  So, was he calling the unshakable feeling for Pamela love?

  Pamela moaned, and his eyes fluttered closed. He’d think about that another day. He gently pressed his lips to hers.

  The pressure of her hands on his face urged him forward, and he slid his tongue inside her warm, lively mouth. An uncontrolled hunger was the only way to explain the pang deep inside. His hands surrounded her, latching on to the sides of her shirt, as his mouth demanded all of her.

  “Jake,” she breathed, her voice soft and wanting. Music to his ears.

  “What the hell?” a loud voice boomed.

  They separated. An ash blond-haired man glared at them.

  Pamela gulped. “Steve?”

  The big blond caught her in a bear hug.

  That got Jake’s attention. His hard-on deflated, and he flexed his fingers as he regarded the thorn in his side. He was the only man not related to Pamela that she held in high regard, outside of his brother. The one she continuously called on to protect her. Paul had said Steve and Pamela were just good friends, had been since high school, but watching Pamela in Steve’s arms and the closeness they shared, had him second-guessing his brother’s judgment.

  “Are you okay?” Steve asked Pamela.

  “Yes,” she said, her body trembling.

  Over Pamela’s shoulder, sable eyes lifted from the body on the floor, then bored into Jake’s. The big brother intimidation game was underway. Steve released Pamela, tossed his duffel bag to the floor, then closed the distance between him and Jake. The menacing glare in Steve’s expression made Jake stiffen. This man was ready for a fight. “You were supposed to be protecting Pamela. Not fucking her.”

  Pamela’s mouth fell open. She hit Steve on the back, grabbing his arm. “Stop!”

  Steve tucked his chin and scowled. “You’re wearing his clothes?”

  “It’s the only thing I had. I couldn’t keep wearing a towel.”

  Jake grimaced. Steve’s fist landed on his jaw, blindsiding him. Jake staggered, falling against the wall, taking the naked picture down with him.

  “Stop it, Steve! People are trying to kill me.”

  “I can see.” Steve nodded his head toward the corpse.

  Her voice drifted off as Jake touched a finger to his lip, then she continued, “I needed comfort.”

  “I need clothes.” Jake stormed to his bedroom. After dressing, he scanned the room for his Beretta. It rested on the floor just inside the bedroom door. Pamela must have used it. Holstering it, he opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out the gun he usually had strapped to his ankle. On the way through the door, he grabbed extra bullets from the dresser and met them in the hall where Pamela was tying her tennis shoes. She still wore his shirt and shorts, the curves of her breasts visible beneath the thin fabric. He shook his head as if it he were a wet dog, removing the image from his mind. He had to concentrate on getting them out unscathed. “Where are the other agents? No alarm, no agents, what’s the deal?”

  “The wire to the alarm system has been cut. I don’t know where the other agents are, but we better get out of here before things turn bad.” Steve stretched out his hand. “We’ve got to back each other up. Truce?”

  Jake looked at Pamela, who gave a weak smile, before extending his hand. He squared his shoulders. “Truce, but don’t ever try that shit again. I get that you’re some sort of big brother figure to Pamela, but if you hit me again, expect a fight.”

  “Point taken.”

  Jake’s chin jutted out. “How’d you know where we were?”

  “As soon as I arrived in town, an Agent Dennis called from IA. Said something was going down, but he didn’t have all the facts aligned with the moon yet.” Steve whirled his finger. “Or some crap like that. He implied that you needed reinforcements, and that he didn’t trust anyone else with Pamela.”

  Jake eyed Steve. Was IA watching him? “Am I under suspicion?”

  Steve shrugged. “Don’t think so.”

  One eyebrow arched while his mouth twisted. Steve was full of shit. Intel guys were a different breed, but Steve’s attitude was jumping around a little too much for him. Maybe his emotions were too invested to be in this case. If he questioned Steve about it, he’d have to point the finger at himself, too. Agent Dennis was right. No other agent beside Steve would protect Pamela as if his next breath depended on it.

  “You two take the escape route,” Steve said. “I’ll follow shortly.”

  “Escape route?” Pamela’s eyebrows lifted.

  Jake tucked a gun into the back waistband of his jeans, slipped the other into his ankle holster, and pocketed the bullets as Steve gave her details. “Most safe houses have one. We’re in luck with this house, since it has two. The passage in the utility room will take you to the beach.”

  “Have you used this house before, Steve?” Pamela asked, rubbing her arms.

  Jake came up behind her and rubbed his hands up and down her cold skin.

  “Nah, agents in the department know about it. Since we never know when we’ll have to use a safe house at the last minute, we learn the layouts when the houses become available.”

  All the agents know about the escape route. Jake dropped his hands. “We can’t use that exit. There’s a leak.”

  Steve’s eyebrows shot up.

  Sssshblamm. A loud explosion brightened the moonlit sky.

  “Crap!” Jake stared through the windows in the front of the house as a ball of fire blazed the horizon. “It starts.”

  Steve’s jaw clenched. “Crap’s right. That was our transportation.”

  Pamela gaped at him.

  “Helicopter?” Jake asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Where’s the pilot?”

  “Right here.” Steve tapped his chest.

  Pamela’s mouth opened, then closed before she said, “I didn’t know you were a pilot.”

  Jake tugged Pamela toward the utility room. “I’m sure there’s a lot you don’t know about your best friend.” He led the way past one escape passage and into the garage. They descended the few steps until they hit concrete. A crash from upstairs drew their attention.

  “Sounds like the glass shattered in one of the French doors,” Jake surmised.

  “The-ey are in the-e ho-ou-use?” The words stumbled out of Pamela.

  “We need to move faster.” Steve pointed at the back wall.

  First to arrive, Steve jerked on the door handle. It didn’t budge. Jake joined him. “On the count of three.”

  Pamela moved closer and whispered, “One, two, three.”

  The door popped open.

  Pamela peeked down the black hole. “Are you sure no one else is there?”

  Steve frowned.
“It’s the best option we have. Not many people know about this escape passage.” He dug a headlamp out of his bag and passed it to Jake, then strapped one around his head.

  “Yeah, well, you two knew about it.”

  Jake lifted his chin. “Good point,” he mumbled as he lowered himself onto the ladder inside the manhole.

  “Seriously? You’re going anyway, not knowing who’s in there?”

  Jake stopped on the second rung and braced his forearms on the floor. “Yes, we are. We may be unsure as to what is ahead of us down there, but if we stay in the house, we have a guarantee something will happen. Newman told me the location of this escape was built not too long ago, so only a few agents are aware of it. There hasn’t been a briefing.” He turned on the light and held out his hand.

  “We’re wasting precious seconds,” Steve warned.

  “Let’s go,” Jake said, giving her no choice.

  She extended a leg onto the first rung of the ladder. Cobwebs lined the area. She really didn’t want to go down there. A loud thud echoed on the utility room door.

  Pamela jumped into the hole. Jake caught her, his hands grabbing her thighs. “Easy,” he said beside her ear.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jake’s hands slid away from her thighs, and Pamela felt a tinge of longing. She trailed him down the ladder as Steve closed the trap door behind him. “Go quick. I threw a cherry bomb into the garage. It should slow them.”

  Pamela had no idea what a cherry bomb was, but Jake chuckled as he hastened his movements.

  They neared the bottom of the ladder. A thick string brushed her nose, and she tried to move it. The sticky substance clung to her hand.

  Cobwebs. Terrific.

  She brushed the web onto her shorts.

  The ladder ended four feet from the bottom. Jake jumped. The squish of his shoes told Pamela he sank in mud. Yuck, her tennis shoes wouldn’t be able to hold up.

  “Jump. I’ll catch you,” Jake said as she reached the last rung, his light illuminating the area.

  Jake catching her wasn’t the problem, the mud was. Not that she should be concerned about the mud when evil men were trying to kill her, but creepy crawlers lived in moist, warm areas.

  “Hurry up! That house is about to blow,” Steve said above her.

  She laughed. “Did you throw a cherry bomb in there, too?”

  “A cherry bomb won’t blow up a house,” Steve explained.

  Pamela stared at him, eyes widening. That meant the bad guys planted a bomb in the house. She dropped straight into Jake’s arms.

  “Whoa.” Jake caught her, squeezing her to his body for a second. “I hate to do this, but the passage is too small for me to carry you.”

  He lowered her until her feet touched the ground. The warm, squishy mud slid into her shoes, making her shudder.

  “Come on.” Jake grabbed her hand and fled down the narrow tunnel.

  “You’d think they’d make a better escape path.”

  “It’s not for luxury, Pamela.” Steve’s voice suggested that he didn’t want any talking. She squeezed Jake’s hand, thankful he wasn’t giving her grief.

  They moved quickly in silence, their feet hitting the mud at a rhythmic pace. It felt as if the tunnel went on forever. Jake’s light flashed on a black, hairy spider. She stiffened, and his hand tightened. She was getting used to him reassuring her.

  They ran down another short walkway and turned the corner.

  Pamela squealed. Something ran across her feet. Jake and Steve aimed their headlamps toward the ground. A rat scurried nearby.

  “Don’t look at anything, but my back,” Jake said, tightening his grip on her hand again.

  “O-okay, but it touched me.”

  “We’re almost there,” Jake said.

  How could he tell? The tunnel was totally dark except for the guys’ lights. “It must be an FBI thing,” she panted.

  Jake laughed, as if he hadn’t been running forever. “Yeah, it is. Look to your right.” Pamela glanced up at the large letters illuminated by his headlamp written on the dirt wall. You’re almost there. “Very funny.”

  “Hey, I didn’t leave the message.”

  He stopped abruptly, with her ramming into his back.

  Steve had brakes, so he stopped a few inches behind.

  “Let’s get this door open,” Steve demanded.

  His voice didn’t sound tired either. The only one breathing hard from running in the mud was Pamela.

  Jake leaned his shoulder on the door. When it didn’t move, Steve switched places with Pamela, putting her in the back of the group with no protection from the rodents or insects. Hurry.

  Hands on the door, they heaved it open.

  “Lights off,” Jake instructed.

  No!

  The night air and the smell of algae filled her lungs. Coughing, she latched on to the back of the nearest shirt, letting him drag her out of the tunnel. The dirty walls and muddy floor had played havoc on her sinuses, not to mention her body. Her shoes were covered in mud, making her feet feel like clay.

  Jake and Steve shoved the door back in place, then put a log across it to prevent anyone from opening it from inside the tunnel. The guns at their sides, Jake and Steve peered into the night. Water gently splashed on the shore.

  “Where are we?” Pamela asked. Unlike the site where they had spent their day, this area had no dwellings, just vegetation.

  “We’re on the other side of the peninsula,” Jake said.

  “We walked under the road?”

  “Yep.”

  Pamela raised her eyebrows. “How come we’re not wet?”

  “You are,” Steve said, touching the top of her tennis shoes with his boot. “You are.”

  She wiggled her toes. “Gross! Can I have a flashlight?”

  Steve settled his pack. “No can do. We have to stay in the dark as much as we can. In a second, I’ll have to turn it on to draw a map.”

  “Here, I’ll walk you to the water.” Once again, Jake took her hand. Steve lagged behind them.

  At the surf, she toed off her shoes and dipped her feet into the water, then crossed the sandy beach to a small grouping of trees that hid them from view.

  Steve squatted, and turned on his headlamp, aiming it directly at the sand, then picked up a stick.

  Jake crouched next to him.

  “I’m sure you already have the lay of the land memorized, Jake, but here’s where we are.” He drew a map in the sand. “Without air or water transportation, we’re trapped.”

  Jake pointed to the marina on the sand map. “Let’s get a boat there.”

  “I called them on the way here. All the rentals are gone until tomorrow.”

  “We’ll hold up here.” Jake touched the sand near where Steve drew an M for the marina. “More than likely, the Black Scorpions left the area after they blew up the helicopter.”

  “Well, that’s wishful thinking. Did you hear about the time they blew up the crooked Senator’s house in DC? The agents on duty thought the Black Scorpions were gone. Later that night, the Scorpions snuck back in the area, found the Senator at a neighbor’s house, and killed the guy.”

  “Wh-what?” Pamela’s mouth fell open.

  “Not helpful, Steve.”

  “Sorry, Pamela.” Steve hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head. “You being in the middle of an FBI case has my nerves on edge. I don’t mean to be an ass.”

  She appreciated the affection, but shifted closer to Jake. Steve was like a brother, and she loved him, but Jake was something more, and she wanted his protection.

  Jake wrapped his arm around her shoulder casually, as if he had done it for the last ten years, while he continued speaking with Steve. When the guys finally stopped talking, she asked, “Now what?”

  “Now, we start walking.” Steve pointed up the beach. “That way.”

  “But where to?”

  “We’re heading to the bed and breakfast in town. It’s late. We should be able to arr
ive unnoticed.” Jake interlaced his fingers with Pamela’s.

  Steve turned off his light, and they proceeded by moonlight.

  The whispering waves crashed on the shore only to be shushed by the sea grass blowing in the gentle breeze. The air tickled Pamela’s neck, drying the mud on her unprotected skin. She should have changed into jeans before they left. With each stride, her legs became heavier, as if she had spent the day getting her body cleansed, only without the luxury of a spa. “I feel as if I’ve been coated in a mud bath.”

  “You would actually put this stuff on you?”

  “Yes.”

  Leading the way, Steve looked over his shoulder. “Are you nuts?”

  “Don’t start being an ass. You already had to apologize once.”

  PKCHOEWWWOOOoooooo.... The explosion was deafening.

  Jake pushed her to the soft sand, shielding her with his body. Surprisingly, the majority of his weight wasn’t on her. She spit sand out of her mouth and turned her head. The moonlight was blanketed by a bright ray of light.

  Boom, boom.

  When it seemed the explosions had stopped, they stood. A ball of fire escaped into the sky, leaving embers spiraling to the earth.

  “That was the house, wasn’t it?” Pamela’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Afraid so,” Jake replied.

  Steve sighed. “Glad we decided not to take the East tunnel. Seeing this, the probability of a bomb in the tunnel is pretty high.”

  Pamela’s legs felt weak, and her body wavered.

  “I’ve got ya.” Jake slid his hands under her body, cradling her to him. “Steve, you’ve got a big mouth. Let’s take a break.”

  Jake and Steve sat on either side of Pamela on a fallen tree and drank some water from a bottle Steve carried in his bag.

  “Guys, I need to tell you something.” Pamela shuffled her feet in the sand. “I’m so going to get blisters when I put these shoes back on.”

  “Is that what you wanted to tell us?” Steve asked, bumping shoulders with her.