“Not strong enough.”
“What?”
“Diner coffee. It isn’t strong enough.”
The puzzlement had turned to irritation. It vibrated at her, right through the door. Tough fucking luck. He could just suffer while she stalled him. Mercilessly.
“There’s a French press pot. Check the cupboard on the bottom to the right of the sink.” Not where she kept it. “But it could be above the toaster. Or next to the microwave.” Not in either place. “I keep ground coffee on the counter.” Nope, it was in the fridge in an unmarked canister, when she had it. Only she was out of it.
Happy hunting, you scumbag con man.
He sighed. “I’ll look. But please hurry.”
She sagged down when she heard the bedroom door close, shaking violently.
No time for a goddamn meltdown. She went back into her bedroom, forced the suitcase closed and yanked on some jeans. The clingy sweater she’d chosen in her romantic frenzy had a sexy criss-cross fabric vee over her tits and showed lots of cleavage. She’d never worn it before. She never would now.
Fuck that thing.
She wrenched the dresser open and picked out a shapeless fleece-lined cotton thing the color of dirt.
Simone composed herself in front of the mirror, trying to look normal, but a brave attempt at a smile made her wince. Better to just stick with looking haunted.
She needed to be downstairs when the team arrived. Keep him distracted while they came in. That would be tricky, as supernaturally alert as he was.
Bizarrely, what she was doing felt like a betrayal. But goddamnit, he betrayed her first.
The smell of coffee assailed her on the way downstairs. Bad coffee. He glanced over his shoulder as she walked into the kitchen. “I found an old jar of instant,” he said. “Caked hard as hell, but I scraped some out. Got a travel mug?”
“No,” she said.
“Okay.” Zade grabbed a mug from her shelf and poured. “Real cream, though. There on the counter with the sugar.”
She murmured her thanks, fixed her coffee. Took a cautious sip, grimacing.
“I know, I know,” he said. “Instant sucks.”
Simone shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just too hot. And right now, I need something cold on my forehead.” Ever so slowly, she held a dishtowel under the faucet. Soaked it. Wrung it dry. Patted her cheeks and forehead. “That’s better,” she whispered. “A little.”
“Drink fast,” Zade said. “I’m getting a bad feeling. I want out of here now.”
She stared down into her cup, careful not to breathe in the stale, bitter aroma or she might throw up for real. She sloshed the liquid against her mouth without swallowing. She could think of absolutely nothing to say to him now.
The alarm on the door panel flashed from red to green. Rand’s security team had opened it remotely. Zade’s back was turned, but he tilted his head with a frown, as if he’d somehow sensed a change in the air.
“We need to go.” His voice vibrated with urgency. “Now.”
Dread and guilt were shredding her resolve. God, this sucked.
“What is it?” Zade looked at her face, eyes widening in alarm. “Are you sick?”
Gee thanks. He’d just handed her an out, and she felt so shitty right now, she didn’t even need to fake it.
She let her hand go slack. The handle slipped from her fingers. The mug fell and broke on the floor tiles. Coffee splashed everywhere.
She fell back against the fridge and slid abruptly down onto her ass. Thud.
Zade lunged to catch her. “Jesus! Simone? What can I do? Is there something I can get for you? I can call an ambulance—”
“Pills,” she croaked, pointing behind him. “Above the cups. Blue bottle.”
There was no blue bottle of pills above the cups, of course. She watched him frantically search for one through every cupboard and drawer in the kitchen, crashing and clattering and cursing.
Suddenly he jerked around, eyes laser sharp. “Shit,” he hissed. “They’re here! Inside the fucking house.”
He lunged for the knife block. Simone dragged herself up onto her feet.
“Get behind me.” He jerked to the side, pressing her back against the fridge as something small and hard hit the kitchen cabinet with a sharp crack. The thing bounced, spun, and came to rest on the floor. A small dart. Shiny steel casing.
He’d thrown himself in front of her. Amazing how he stayed in character.
Armored men barreled in. Zade’s butcher knife whipped through the air.
The first guy in shrieked, staggering forward against the sink, the knife jammed deep into his thigh.
More men boiled in. Zade picked up the knife block and hurled it at the one in front. A dull thud. Blood gushed out of his head as he went down.
Then all hell broke loose. A blur of legs, arms, flailing. Kicks and punches, grunts, things breaking, smashing. Zade flung an attacker into the pantry cabinet, and the doors caved in, splintering. He plucked a dart from his shoulder and flung it away. Smashed the next guy’s head down on the butcher’s block. The man fell backwards, his face a gory mess.
Darts flew. Some of them hit Zade.
Simone huddled in the corner of the kitchen, horrified. Zade stabbed a dart he’d pulled out of himself into his attacker’s neck. The guy dropped to the floor in seconds, eyes rolled up. Zade spun another guy around and wrenched his arm. A wet crunch, a howl of agony.
More armored men crowded in.
Thppt. Another dart hit Zade high in the chest. Another skittered across the kitchen counter, lodging in the wall. Zade lurched back. His movements were slowing but his eyes burned with unearthly fire. He dodged more darts—until the last one hit him in the cheek.
Simone cried out. Zade turned his ferocious dark gaze on her.
Not a word. But he knew that she was the one who had engineered his defeat and capture.
Zade collapsed. The men still standing moved toward him, but Simone scooted in before they got to him and plucked the dart out of his cheek.
She couldn’t bear to see it there. It was only as long as the palm of her hand.
“Simone, don’t touch him!”
Rand’s burly frame took up the entire kitchen entryway. He looked down at the men who were sprawled broken and bleeding in the kitchen and picked his way carefully inside.
“What a godawful mess,” he muttered.
“They shot him,” she blurted. “You said they wouldn’t.”
Rand rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he said. “It’s time you understood how things really stand. You’ve reached the end of your leash, Simone. It stops here.”
She was bewildered. “What are you talking about? What leash? What stops here?”
Zade’s eyes locked onto hers. He couldn’t seem to move or speak, but his eyes still looked straight inside her.
How could he still do that to her, knowing what she knew about him? The guilt that swept over her made her furious. At him for lying to her. At herself for being so pathetically weak. So easily manipulated.
“Don’t you dare,” she snarled at him. “Fuck you, Zade. Don’t look at me like that. Goddamn you. I saw you spying on me!”
“Is he restrained?” Rand asked someone briskly. “Get those other idiots loaded up. For God’s sake. This is the A team? Nine to one, and only three of you are still standing?”
Zade’s eyes remained fixed on her. Rand’s men yanked his arms behind his back and forced plastic cuffs onto his wrists before they dragged him out.
She followed them out of the kitchen. She couldn’t look away. How pathetic was that. His dark eyes held hers with fixed urgency.
“ … will come with us to the Odell facility, Simone,” Rand was saying. “We need to debrief you right away about every second you spent with him.”
“No,” she said.
Rand looked incredulous. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not going. I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m done. Completely done.�
� Her voice quavered a little, but it was strong. But she knew a tidal wave of pain was on its way.
She tried to brace herself but it slammed into her and … God.
“ … be there for very long.” Rand was trying to soothe her, but his voice grated agonizingly on her ears. “Let’s just get this over with. You’ll feel better right away. Come on now.”
“No.” She set her teeth as the pain hit.
She would rather die right now than take any more of this shit. Enough was enough.
That conviction was a shining thread of steel in the midst of the pain and noise. She was done being fucked with. By everyone. It stopped now. If it killed her.
Zade’s eyes were trying to tell her something. He was broadcasting a telepathic message. Just as well she couldn’t hear it with the roar in her head. It had to be manipulative bullshit.
“Enough, Simone,” Rand said sharply. “You’re going and that’s final.”
“No,” she gasped out. “Not. Going.”
Rand turned to Kruger with a sigh of irritation. “Enough of this. Just do it.”
Kruger whipped out a zip tie. Simone gasped in shock as he spun her roughly around and jerked her wrists together behind her back.
She struggled, astonished as he fastened the zip tie. “What the hell?”
Rand didn’t look up to meet her eyes. He just fiddled with his phone.
“Sorry,” he said stiffly. “I hate to do this, but I had no choice.”
“Choice about what?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “What are you doing?”
“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone. You just had to keep at it. Like a hammer on a nail. Breaking the engagement to Jordan Holt, then that stupid affair with Gallagher which you somehow fucked up also. Your two-month tantrum to get out of work. That genetic test. And now, to top it all, you’ve decided to hop into bed with our industry competitors. It’s too much, Simone. Everyone’s cutting their losses, including me.”
“What do you know about the genetics test? I didn’t tell anyone about that!”
Rand just shook his head. “Such a goddamn waste,” he complained.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded.
But he was on his phone again, ignoring her. “We have them both,” he said. “Transporting to the Odell Facility now. Get one of the reinforced holding cells ready.”
“Rand!” she yelled.
His gaze flicked to her and away again, irritated at the interruption.
Kruger jerked her closer to himself at the top of the stairs. What was left of the battered security team was still trying to drag Zade down the steps with great difficulty.
Zade looked up. His gaze was even and steady. Unsurprised. As if he knew something about all of this. More than she knew, that was for sure.
Kruger dragged her back until his hot, sour breath tickled her ear. “You dumb cunt,” he whispered. “If you wanted cock you could’ve just called me.”
He seized her breast and pinched until she almost screamed, then rubbed his stubby little dick against her bound, fisted hands
She twisted to look into his pale blue eyes. He smiled and rubbed some more.
So she was no longer an asset to be protected. She was a piece of meat to be used by any pig who felt like indulging himself.
That was what she had to look forward to.
Her fingers tightened around something small and hard. The dart that she’d pulled out of Zade’s cheek. It was still hidden in her hand.
A man dragging Zade kicked him hard in the ribs, making him gasp.
Something deep inside her snapped in that instant. She rocked forward, letting Kruger pull her back to create a counterforce. Then she jerked back suddenly, stabbing the dart right into the bulge of Kruger’s crotch. As hard as she could.
His hoarse scream deafened her. The dart’s poison fouled his breath in seconds, but she stayed strong—until he fell, bearing her down beneath him
She toppled down the stairs under his stinking weight.
Chapter 17
Zade couldn’t believe it. Her prick stepfather was throwing her under the bus, and he didn’t even look all that conflicted about it.
His mind was strangely lucid. The drug cut off his motor function but not his thought process. He heard every word Rand Batello said. He’d been zapped by maybe as many as five or six of those darts, a cumulative fuckton of bad junk.
But he was a Braxton Boy, modified to swallow poison and laugh. His hyperactive metabolism burned that shit up like a grassfire. He could already wiggle his fingers and toes and twitch larger muscle groups, but he played helpless, waiting for his moment.
Then the red-headed turd groped Simone’s tits and knocked her down the stairs. That was all the fuel he needed to burn up the rest of the poison.
He exploded into movement. Head-butted the first guy. Snapped the wrist restraints like rotten rubber bands. Eye-jabbed the second guy. Grabbed the prick by groin and throat, blind and screaming, and hurled him down onto the third guy who was hurrying up the stairs from below, sending both men crashing down against the entryway door. The first guy was stirring again, so Zade wrenched his bull neck around. Heard the crunch. Let him drop.
He bounded up the stairs and heaved that sweaty dickwad off Simone, who was sprawled limply on the stairs, hair draped across her face. The guy had a dart sticking out of his dick and a piss stain down the front of his pants. Simone had done that to him while handcuffed. His demon hellcat. So fucking fine.
He silently dedicated a crushing kick to the guy’s groin to Simone. The guy shrieked like a whipped dog, jack-knifing into the fetal position.
He scooped Simone up into his arms, clambering over the fallen men but stopped at the door when he heard the frantic thudding heartbeat at the top of the stairs. Rand Batello stared down at the carnage below, his mouth slack.
Zade’s ASP churned out multiple kill plans involving maximum pain and gore. Ten ways to take Batello apart.
But Simone was blue to the lips. They had to haul ass.
“You want some, motherfucker?” Zade asked him. “I got plenty. Come on down. Let me rip you to pieces.”
“Simone!” Rand’s voice vibrated. “Don’t go with this man. I want to help you. I can save your life if I bring you in for reconditioning. It’s the only way they’ll let you live.”
Simone stared up at him, and slowly shook her head.
“Don’t do this, Simone!” Rand shouted. “You’ll understand when I—”
“Fuck off, loser.” Zade kicked the door open and pulled her outside. Not a chance the gutless bastard would follow. He almost wished he would.
That would be all the excuse he needed.
He set Simone on her feet just so he could get out his knife and snap through her plastic restraints. “Can you walk?”
“Sure,” she gasped out. “But let’s run.”
So they ran, sort of. Simone wavered, and weaved, and stumbled, but she didn’t fall down.
Once they got to the car, Simone sagged down low in the seat, panting. She had to be all kinds of fucked up, physically, but an ER stop would only put her in Obsidian’s sights again, and his own place was too risky. Obsidian could’ve pinned down his current identity by now, and with it his home and his vehicles.
The cabin was the only option, with everyone gone. Sisko in Hong Kong. Hannah in California. Noah and Caro off rolling around on a beach somewhere. The rest of the Midlanders were scattered across the world. No one could get here in less than twenty-four hours. Even Asa was too busy babysitting Brenner.
Zade headed for the highway, gunning the car. Had to fight to keep focused. He had enormous reserves, but he’d burned through all of them to metabolize that drug.
Fuel. “Simone,” he said. “There’s chocolate in the armrest. Get it out.”
She turned to look at him. Her eyes had an unearthly glow. “You have the munchies, Zade?” She jerked the compartment open and dug around in it. “Look at all this candy. So that�
��s what makes you so big and strong.”
The razor edge in her voice indicated that the initial shock was passing. Anger was rising up strong. Ass-kicking time. He swallowed and braced himself.
“I need fuel,” he said tightly. “C’mon, give. And eat some yourself. Please.”
She ripped open a nut cluster and bit into it. “I saw video footage of you in my studio,” she said. “Sticking a flash drive into my computer. Taking pictures of my designs. And Rand told me you paid those men to hurt me last night.”
“No. That wasn’t what I—”
“Here. You need a sugar jolt if you’re going to keep lying.” She tossed a chocolate bar into his lap. “Enjoy your fucking chocolate.”
He decided against asking her to unwrap it. “I can explain all that.”
“Really? I assume you paid those guys to attack us at Fayette’s house, too?”
“Hell, no! Look, I had to—”
“Just shut up, Zade.”
“Give me a goddamn chance to talk!” He swerved hard to get out of the path of a truck. She didn’t appear to notice.
“It’s not necessary,” she said. “I know everything I need to know about you now. There will be no more surprises.”
“That’s not true,” he said desperately. “Please, Simone. Just listen.”
“You know what? The only reason I’m here is because you liquefied Kruger’s balls. My ultimate fantasy, by the way. From now on, I have to assume that you’re my enemy.”
He could feel her hostile gaze raking him. “I hated lying to you,” he said.
“Yeah? So you have a conscience. Sweet. Even if you don’t use it.”
“Yes,” he said tightly. “I do have one.”
“I hope it makes you suffer. You paid people to hurt me. You lied to me and spied on me and stole from me. Everywhere I turn I’m being fucked over. Any way you look at it I’m going to my doom.”
“Not if I can help it,” he said.
“Oh, please. Don’t fucking pretend to be my friend. It makes me want to vomit.”
“I would never hurt you,” he told her.
She just looked at him and laughed.
Zade was cowed into guilty silence. Best to let her fume quietly.
My Next Breath Page 15
