Desired in Darkness

by Heather Sunseri

  “Look up at me and smile sweetly.”

  I lifted my eyes and let my lips curl upward.

  “That’s my girl.” He touched my cheek. “It won’t be long now. Let’s go make sure the flowers are in place and your bouquet is pretty. The minister should be along shortly.”

  Chapter 40

  Declan

  Marshall and a team of agents out of Louisville had made it to Shaughnessy in less than an hour after the florist arrived at our front gate. By a stroke of luck, the florist had misread his directions. His tablet said he was to deliver the wedding flowers to the farm next door—the farm I had tried to purchase—but instead he had mistakenly pulled up to my gate. We’d gotten our first lucky break.

  Now a hipster-looking young FBI agent had swapped clothing with the delivery driver. A camera had been attached to his hair, but I couldn’t see it even when I looked for it. It was that small.

  “Do you understand what to do?” Special Agent Marshall asked the agent.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m to take the van and deliver the flowers. When I see Harrison lift a hand of powder near my face, I’m to hold my breath and blow out if possible. Try to keep from inhaling much of the drug and resist the effects of the drug the best I can.” He paused. “Ma’am… What happens if I can’t fight the drug?”

  “It won’t matter. Just get in there so we can get an idea of how many people are there and whether Harrison is armed and ready for us. We’ll be right behind you, and a Lexington SWAT team is standing by.”

  “I should be the one going,” I said. “This agent shouldn’t be putting his life at risk.”

  Everyone looked at me.

  “Mr. O’Roark, that’s not possible. Harrison knows what you look like. Besides, Agent Tack is trained for this.”

  Tack looked me in the eye. “I’m going to save Director Fairfax from this asshole,” he said firmly.

  Less than five minutes later, Agent Tack was out of the florist van and knocking on the farmhouse’s front door. The rest of us were gathered around the FBI monitoring station that had been set up in my living room.

  Agent Tack knocked again. He looked around the front porch to the side of the house. He peered inside the front window. We could see movement inside, but for some reason no one came to the door.

  He knocked a third time. At least another minute went by before the front door swung open and Harrison appeared in the doorway.

  I let out a breath. Harrison.

  We didn’t have audio, but Harrison swung the door open and ushered Agent Tack inside.

  Agent Tack was good about looking everywhere. Agent Marshall narrated what could be seen, and I wanted to tell her to shut up since we were all watching, but I knew she was making sure her agents were seeing what she was seeing. I assumed they would speak up if they saw something else helpful.

  Agent Tack was so busy looking around, I was afraid he didn’t see Harrison pull his hand from his pocket and lift it up to his mouth.

  “Right there,” Ty said. “He just blew the drug into Agent Tack’s face.”

  “Okay, people,” Agent Marshall said. “Our agent is in there. I want him and Director Fairfax rescued within the hour. Looks like we’re looking at half a dozen other people. We have to assume that they and Harrison are all armed.”

  We still didn’t have eyes on Brooke, and I thought my heart might pop out of my chest as I watched.

  Agent Tack headed back outside to get the flowers. He made three trips to set them all up in the living room, where rows of chairs had been arranged to face a podium.

  On the last trip to the van, another vehicle pulled up. A man got out and said something to Agent Tack. The man was dressed in black and held a Bible in his hand.

  “It’s a minister,” I said. It wasn’t unexpected—the florist had said he was delivering flowers for a wedding—but it still made my stomach turn. “He’s going to force her to marry him.”

  “He’s one sick fuck,” Dimitri said.

  “Where’s Brooke?” I asked. “Why haven’t we—?” I stopped in mid-sentence as Brooke appeared on the monitor. Agent Tack was back inside, looking up the stairs. Brooke was slowly descending in a wedding dress—the same one from the photo shoot. Harrison walked up the steps to greet her halfway.

  Apparently the wedding was about to start.

  “What’s the ETA on the SWAT team?” I asked.

  “They’re almost in place,” an agent answered.

  I placed a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder. “I want to be ready to move in the moment SWAT is in place.”

  Erica Marshall walked over to me. “Do not get in SWAT’s way.”

  I nodded in agreement. I wouldn’t interfere. But I would be the first person Brooke saw when this was over.

  Chapter 41

  Brooke

  Romeo took my hand and led me down the steps. “You look beautiful, Brooke.” When I didn’t answer him, he brought me closer to him. “Answer me when I speak to you, Brooke.”

  “Thank you, Woody. You look wonderful, too.”

  “That’s better.” He grabbed me by the waist. “I know it’s bad luck to kiss the bride before the wedding, but I need just a little taste of you. And you’ve been teasing me this entire morning.”

  He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, forcing them apart with his tongue. I felt lightheaded and thought I might pass out from not being able to fight him off. Though the effects of the borracheromine had faded some, I was still very much under Romeo’s control.

  He drew back and smiled. “Don’t worry, sweet Brooke. It won’t take long for me to train you to accept my affection, and eventually to even return it. And we’ll get started with that training as soon as the ceremony is over.” He held out an arm. “Shall we?”

  I slid a hand into the crook of his arm and smiled up at him. But inside, I was full of fire and fury.

  He led me into the living room. Chairs had been set up in rows facing a portable podium that would apparently serve as an altar. The “guests” had arrived ahead of us. Mark was there, as well as all of Declan’s employees I’d seen and a couple of other people I didn’t recognize, though one man looked faintly familiar. All of them had blank looks on their faces.

  All except one. A man in a T-shirt from a local florist looked up at me as we walked past. He didn’t look like the others. If I had to guess, he wasn’t under the influence of the drug. And he seemed to be trying to tell me something with his eyes.

  Was it wishful thinking, or had the FBI found me? Maybe they had figured out how Declan’s employees had disappeared. Or—

  “Are you having trouble focusing, dear?” Romeo asked. He had been talking to me, but I had missed it because I was staring at the florist.

  I looked at Romeo. My body was reeling from its first sign of hope. “Did you say something?”

  “What were you staring at?” Romeo narrowed his eyes and scanned the guests. His reaction was instant; he’d obviously seen the same thing I had. He took several quick steps toward the florist, pulled a handgun from his holster, and pointed it at the florist’s head.

  The florist’s eyes widened, then he closed them tightly.

  Romeo smiled. “Get up.”

  The florist did as he was told.

  “Out on the porch.”

  The florist walked like the others did, but I knew it was an act. And so did Romeo.

  I followed Romeo and the florist out onto the porch. I was afraid Romeo was going to kill the man right then and there. I was all swimmy in the head, and though part of me struggled to care about any of this, deep inside I knew that I didn’t like what was going on.

  I had to do something.

  “Woody,” I said, “I thought you wanted to marry me. Why are you bothering with him? He means nothing to us.”

  Romeo looked back at me for only a moment before returning his attention to the florist. “Down on your knees.” He placed the barrel of the gun against the man’s head. “Why are you here? Who sent you?”
>
  “I brought flowers,” the man said in a monotone voice that was not too unlike the other zombie-like guests.

  “If I shoot you, you’re going to make a mess all over my front porch, which will ruin Brooke’s wedding.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a packet of the drug, and blew it in the man’s face.

  The man made eye contact with me just before he breathed in the substance.

  He was here for me. I was sure of it.

  Romeo ordered the man to get up and return to his seat for the ceremony. This time when he walked, he had the same glazed look as the rest of them.

  “Well, dear Brooke, it looks like we’re out of time,” Romeo said. “Let’s get married, and then we’re leaving on our honeymoon. I’ll keep you safe until Declan stops looking for you.” He kissed the side of my head. “We will be happy.”

  I backed up a step. Declan would never stop looking for me.

  “I think it’s time for a stronger dose,” Romeo said with a smile. “I’m going to need your full cooperation.”

  He pulled out two packets of the drug this time. “Two should do the trick. Don’t worry, my dear, you’ll still remember your wedding. And the longer you’re under the influence of the borracheromine, the more susceptible you’ll be to believing your new reality.”

  He stepped toward me, but I pulled back. “I will never do what you want me to do,” I said.

  Romeo smiled. “That’s what I thought, too, once upon a time.”

  I angled my head, narrowing my eyes.

  “That’s right, Brooke. I know how this drug works, from personal experience. I received my own dose of this drug. The night you lost your baby.”

  “The night you killed my husband,” I whispered.

  “I didn’t kill your husband. The CIA killed your husband.”

  “You pulled the trigger.”

  “When I was under the influence of borracheromine. Do you blame Ty for his actions at the airport? What about that foolish woman who shot up your offices? Is she to blame?”

  “You killed my baby,” I said. “You caused me to miscarry. Do you blame the borracheromine for that too?” A tear streaked down my face.

  “Oh, no. That was my choice—to protect you, Brooke. I knew that whoever showed up that night would be executed, though I didn’t know at the time that I would be the one to pull the trigger. So I made sure you were… preoccupied. If you had been with Teddy that night, you would still have lost your baby—along with your life.”

  I stumbled backwards. “Who made you do it?”

  “My superiors within the agency. The FBI was getting too close to the truth. I didn’t want to, Brooke. I promise you that. Every instinct in me was telling me to run. But I had no choice but to kill Teddy.”

  “And that’s why you’ve been hiding from the CIA.”

  “The CIA is trying to terminate me because agents like you are asking too many questions—discovering the truth. Without me, you’ll have no proof. Don’t you see? I wasn’t a killer. I was a hacker. The CIA made me a killer that night.”

  “No. You killed my baby first.”

  Romeo grabbed me. “But I’m going to make up for it. You and I are going to be together, and I’m going to make you happy. I’ll give you a new baby.”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “I’m the only one who understands you, Brooke. I get you like no other person ever will. The borracheromine might have made me a killer, but it will also make you love me.” He held the drug in front of my face. “Now be a good girl and take your medicine so that we can get on with the ceremony and the rest of our lives.” He blew the double dose of the drug into my face.

  This time when I breathed it in, I knew immediately that I was defenseless.

  As I listened to the pastor read the Bible verses about love, I looked over at Romeo, and he looked at me, and he went in and out of focus.

  “I don’t feel so well,” I said.

  “Brooke?” Romeo snapped his fingers in my face. “Stay with me, Brooke.”

  “I… I think… I need to sit down.”

  “Miles,” Romeo said. “Come here.”

  I turned my head when one of the guests stood. It was the man I had faintly recognized earlier but couldn’t quite place. “Miles Holbrook,” I slurred.

  “Hold her up,” Romeo ordered.

  Miles placed his hands on my arms and steadied me in front of Romeo and the pastor.

  Romeo nodded to the pastor. “Skip to the vows,” he ordered.

  The pastor began saying the groom’s vows, and Romeo repeated the words after him. I swayed on my feet. I was about to become Mrs. Woody Harrison.

  I started laughing. I sounded drunk, but it was the first time I had actually thought of the sound of his name. He sounded like that movie star—Woody Harrelson—and for some reason, that was hilarious to me.

  “Brooke!” Romeo barked.

  “Aww. You’re mad,” I slurred. I reached out a hand and ran my fingers down his face. “Don’t be mad.” I looked back over my shoulder at Miles. “Doesn’t he look mad?”

  Miles didn’t answer.

  “Sourpuss,” I said to Miles, then turned back to Romeo and clapped my hands. “Okay. I’m ready. Let’s start again.”

  As the pastor began to speak again, the room started spinning.

  “Oh no,” I said. “This isn’t good.” I tried to focus on Romeo. I tried to focus on anything. But it was useless.

  Romeo was yelling at me. He got up in my face. I would have fallen had Miles not been holding me. Then I felt Romeo lift me into the air. I was floating, drifting in and out of consciousness.

  “Don’t do this to me, Brooke,” Romeo said.

  The next thing I knew I was inside a bathroom, bent over a toilet. Romeo was sticking his finger down my throat, but I shoved his hand away.

  “Be a good little girl and throw up,” Romeo said. “You’re not going to die on me.”

  Die? I looked up at him. He continued to go in and out of focus. “You killed Teddy,” I whimpered. I lay my arm over the toilet and began to cry. I cried for Teddy, but I also cried for Declan. Where was Declan? Was I ever going to see him again?

  In between my whimpers and cries, I heard voices in the distance.

  Romeo leaned into me and whispered something quietly into my ear—words that would forever be etched into my mind. Then he stood and left the room.

  I slumped to the cold tile floor. I didn’t have the energy to even lift my head. I was surrounded by a white puffy cloud, and I was sure by the way my head was spinning and throbbing, I was about to overdose on a drug most people had never even heard of.

  Chapter 42

  Declan

  Cops surrounded the farmhouse. Lexington police put a chopper overhead. There were snipers in the distance, and SWAT in full tactical gear approached. Using a loudspeaker, they ordered Harrison to surrender.

  I was standing way back behind one of the barricades. “Do they have a visual on anyone?” I asked.

  Agent Marshall shook her head. “They were spotted in one of the downstairs rooms, but then Romeo carried Brooke into a hallway and we lost sight of them.”

  “Someone’s coming out!” a male officer yelled.

  “Put your hands on your head!” another officer ordered.

  One by one, half a dozen or so people filed out of the house, including Agent Tack. Officers quickly got the hostages out of harm’s way, and again ordered Harrison to surrender.

  Ty was standing beside me. “Come on, Brooke,” he muttered. “Come out. You’ve survived worse.”

  “I’m coming out!” a voice called from inside the house. “I’m unarmed!”

  “It’s him,” Ty said. “I know that voice. It’s Harrison.”

  “Where’s Brooke?” I asked.

  “Come on out,” an officer yelled. “Place your hands on your head. One wrong move—”

  Harrison stepped out of the front door. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he answered, slouc
hed and defeated. “I’d never do anything to harm her. She needs medical help.”

  I pushed past the barricade and ran full sprint toward the house.

  “Hold your fire!” someone yelled.

  I realized members of SWAT were running with me, and I wasn’t sure whether they were there for my protection or Harrison’s. As I ran past Harrison into the house, I had a few words for him. “I will kill you,” I promised. I didn’t care who heard me.

  I glanced back to see two members of the SWAT team taking Harrison down roughly. One pinned him to the ground and planted his knee into the square of Romeo’s back while the other cuffed his hands and feet. The remaining officers entered the house with me, carrying a mixture of high-powered rifles and handguns, uncertain if more threats lay ahead.

  “Brooke?” I called out. I looked into the living room, where a young woman was cowering in a corner. One of the officers went to tend to her. I continued on.

  “Brooke? Answer me.”

  I raced through room after room, heedless of the risks. And then I saw her. She was lying on the floor, in a pool of white organza that was flowing out of a small half-bath. “Brooke!” I yelled. “Back here!” I called. “Send a paramedic!”

  I knelt beside her. She was unconscious. “Brooke,” I said again, scooping her into my arms. “Can you hear me?”

  Her eyes fluttered, struggling to open. “Declan?” she said in a low voice.

  “Yes, baby, it’s me. I’ve got you. It’s over.”

  “It will never be over,” she said. Her head went limp again as she lost consciousness.

  Adrenaline took over, and I scooped her up into my arms and carried her back through the house. At the front porch, paramedics met me with a gurney. I laid her gently down, and they put an oxygen mask over her mouth and steered her toward the ambulance.

  I followed them, but paused when I saw Harrison sitting in the back of a cruiser, yelling through the closed window. “Is she okay?” he shouted. “Someone answer me! Is she okay?”