by Elle Kennedy
“Hey,” he said gruffly. “Wake up.”
No response.
He leaned closer.
The next thing he knew, he was caught in a headlock and a lethal little hand was gripping his neck. “Touch me again and I’ll break your neck,” came the hoarse mumble.
He was momentarily stunned. Christ, this woman was strong. But injured, which made it relatively easy to push out of her grasp.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Kane frowned. “Threaten me again and I’ll break yours.”
His warning fell on deaf ears. Whatever strength she’d managed to will up had promptly fizzled. She was unconscious again.
Shit. He didn’t have the time to sit around and play nursemaid. Like D, he had a bad feeling about this woman. They’d all be better off after they deposited her in Noelle’s hands and went back to the compound.
He swept his gaze over her face, noticing the rosy flush splotching her cheeks. Smothering a sigh, he gingerly placed his hand on her forehead, cursing again when he felt heat searing his palm. She was burning up. Not good. The doc had warned them about the dangers of infection, but they’d hoped the antibiotics they managed to shove down her throat would take effect. If anything, her temperature had only seemed to spike in the few minutes he sat by her side.
He dipped a washcloth into the bowl of cold water the doctor had left on the end table. Soaking the cloth, he moved it to the redhead’s forehead and dragged it across her skin. She stirred restlessly. And then she spoke. Well, not so much spoke as mumbled. Soft, feverish words that had him leaning closer. He thought he made out the name Blanco. Then she muttered, “Save them.”
His blood instantly went cold.
Save them.
Save who, for fuck’s sake?
Kane tossed the cloth in the bowl and got to his feet. Screw this. He wasn’t going to play nurse anymore.
With a frown, he marched out of the room. He found Morgan in the den, sitting in an armchair. D and Ethan were there too, the latter sprawled on the tattered leather couch, the former standing in front of the small window across the room. They’d used this safe house before, a spacious apartment in Usaquén, an upscale neighborhood in northern Bogotá. It was the perfect place to lie low, which Morgan’s team frequently needed to do after a particularly hairy assignment. Not that this gig had been hairy. Too easy, more like it.
“Where’s Holden and Luke?” Kane asked as he sank into the armchair across from Morgan’s.
“Airstrip, hashing out details with Sam,” Ethan replied.
Morgan’s piercing blue eyes found Kane’s. “How is she?”
“Unconscious. Woke up for a minute.” He snorted. “She tried to snap my neck in two.”
He could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile on his boss’s face.
“Fuck,” he burst out. “Who is she, Morgan? You’ve kept your trap shut about her since Noelle showed up at the compound. We went into this mission blind, but I’m not putting up with that shit anymore.”
From the couch, Ethan shot Kane a surprised glance. Not many people had the balls to tongue-lash the mighty Jim Morgan. But hell, enough was enough. Kane had just spent the past three hours babysitting a woman he didn’t fully trust. He hadn’t slept in two days. He was tired, hungry, and pissed off. And he wanted answers.
“Who is she?” he repeated.
Morgan didn’t even blink. “She’s a killer.”
“Yeah, way to state the obvious, boss. We know she works for Noelle, okay? Who is she to you?”
After a beat, Morgan released a heavy breath. “I knew her father.”
“And…”
“And that’s it. I knew her father.”
“And?” Ethan chimed in.
Morgan swore under his breath. “Christ, it’s like talking to children. That’s all there is to it, kids. Jeremy Thomas was a good man. He saved my ass once, when I worked black ops for the Rangers.”
Since it was rare to get any details about Morgan’s past, Kane pressed on. “And the daughter? What’s she to you?”
“I met her when I was twenty-seven. She was, shit, fifteen or something.” Morgan shrugged. “Cute girl, but cold as ice. Had it tough before Jeremy adopted her. I saw her again a few times when I visited Jeremy, but after he died I lost touch with her. It’s been three or four years since I last saw her.”
“I don’t trust her,” D said, his tone flat.
“You don’t trust anybody,” Ethan shot back with a grin.
D smiled faintly. “Got that right.” The smile promptly faded. “Something doesn’t sit right. She’s a fucking assassin. A trained killer. How’d she let herself get caught? And that boss of hers. I don’t trust her either.”
Morgan gave a sharp laugh. “And you shouldn’t. Noelle doesn’t inspire trust in many people.”
Kane glanced at his boss thoughtfully. “Yet you agreed to help her.”
Morgan shook his head. “Not her. Never her. This was a favor to an old friend.”
The conversation halted as the young doctor they’d hired approached the open doorway. “She’s regained consciousness,” he said, his gaze hesitant as he looked around the room.
“How is she?” Morgan asked.
“For some reason she’s still conscious despite the sedative. Oh, and she was beaten within an inch of her life.”
Morgan ignored the remark. “What about the fever?”
“Still high.” With a frown, the doctor added, “I found something on her body.” Stepping into the room, he uncurled the fist he’d been making, revealing a small silver key. He handed it to D, who was closest to the door. “There was a Band-Aid on the sole of her right foot. This was beneath it.”
“Thanks for everything you’ve done,” Morgan said brusquely. “Now go home, Doc.”
“I should really stay to monitor the fever—”
“No time. We’re flying out tonight.”
“I highly advise you don’t move her for a couple of days.”
“Noted.” Morgan glanced pointedly at the door.
After a moment, the doctor walked through it.
“Ethan, escort the good doctor out,” Morgan said.
As the two men left the room, D held up the key, studying it with a frown. “How much you wanna bet this opens the door to the cell we found her in?”
Kane experienced another jolt of confusion. Yeah, he’d take that bet. He voiced his perplexity aloud. “Why didn’t she escape?”
“She’s nuts?” D offered.
“Abby’s not crazy,” Morgan said quietly. “She’s probably one of the sanest, toughest women I’ve ever met.” He glanced at Kane. “Go check on her.”
“Why the hell don’t you do it?”
Morgan’s lips tightened.
Kane sighed. “Fuck. Whatever.”
He got to his feet and left the den, heading toward Abby’s room. A pair of blue eyes pierced him when he walked into the room. Slightly glazed, but wary. “Where am I?” the woman on the bed demanded.
“Bogotá.”
She slid up into a sitting position, then winced. She touched her ribs. “Shit,” she murmured.
Kane watched as she ran her hands over her body, gauging her injuries. When her hand skimmed the bottom of her right foot, she frowned.
“We found the key,” he said with a shrug. “Was it for the cell door?”
“You got me out of the compound?” she asked without answering his question.
He nodded.
“Why?” Suspicion flared in her eyes.
He couldn’t help a soft laugh. “Because you needed rescuing. You know, other women would be grateful.”
Her jaw tightened. “I’m not other women. And I didn’t ask to be rescued.”
Kane cocked one brow. “So you were enjoying the beatings?” And rape, he wanted to add, but the steel in her eyes told him not to go there.
“Who do you work for?” Suddenly she sighed. “Noelle sent you.”
“Yes. But I don’t work for her. I
work for a mutual friend. He’s in the other room actually. The name Jim Morgan ring a bell?”
To his surprise, those blue eyes softened. “Jim’s here?”
“In the other room, like I said.”
“I want to see him.”
Annoyance prickled his skin at her insistent tone. What was Morgan’s connection to this woman? Morgan said he had known her father—that’s all there was to it, but Kane didn’t like the way Abby’s entire face relaxed when he’d said Morgan’s name. Even more annoying was the fact that he was experiencing a spark of jealousy at the notion that Abby Sinclair and Morgan were somehow involved. He didn’t even know this woman.
“He’s busy right now,” he said curtly. “He’ll see you in a bit.”
Abby watched as the handsome stranger crossed the room. Odd that she was even noticing his looks in her current condition. Hell, even if she was thinking clearly she probably wouldn’t appreciate the view. Men didn’t interest her. Not that she was into women. Neither sex appealed to her. She knew all too well what human beings, male or female, were capable of.
Her rescuer grabbed a pitcher of water from the table under the window and poured a glass. Turning back, he walked toward the bed. “Drink up. You’re dehydrated.” He held out the glass.
She stared at it.
“For God’s sake, I didn’t poison it.”
And she was supposed to know that because? Opening your eyes and finding a man looming over you wasn’t exactly supposed to inspire trust, was it? He might work for Morgan—or so he claimed—but until she laid eyes on Jim Morgan himself, she wasn’t about to trust anyone.
But damn it, she was thirsty.
With a sigh, she raised the glass to her lips and downed the water in one long swig. Then she held the glass out to him. “More.”
His lips twitched as if he was fighting back a laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”
She studied him as he went to get more water. He was big. Six feet at least, but lean rather than bulky. Sandy-blond hair, somewhat unruly. Dark green eyes. And his face… jeez, he could easily pass for a movie star or model.
“I’m Kane,” he said as he returned with another glass of water.
“Okay. Kane. Why did you rescue me from Blanco’s prison?”
“Why were you in the prison to begin with?”
Say nothing. Always take care of yourself first, Abby.
She set the glass on the end table and discreetly studied the room. A bedroom, obviously. One window. No balcony. One exit—the door behind Kane. Getting out of here would be tricky.
“Forget it,” he said as if reading her mind. “You’re not going anywhere, not in your current condition.”
His words proved prophetic when she tried to raise herself up into a standing position. Her head started spinning, causing her to sink back into the mattress. Damn. Dehydrated, he’d said. It explained the wooziness. And her bruised ribs explained why breathing hurt so damn much.
At least she wasn’t naked anymore. Someone—Kane?—had dressed her in a pair of loose sweatpants and a shirt that was three sizes too big. Her feet were bare but that would make it easier to scale the wall once she climbed out the window. Which she’d do, eventually. She needed to get out of here. As she’d told him, she hadn’t asked to be rescued, and thanks to Kane’s interference, she no longer had access to the girls she was determined to save.
She made another attempt at standing up, but the dizziness returned. She was starting to feel hot and the back of her neck was covered with sweat. She hated feeling this way. Trapped. Helpless. “Where is this place? Who lives here?” she demanded.
“It’s a safe house. We’ve got ’em all over the world. Morgan insists on it.”
“I might be comforted by that if I saw Morgan for myself.” She frowned. “I’m not sure I believe you even work for him.”
Morgan’s voice came from the doorway. “He does. So quit being a pain in the ass and let him take care of you.”
Abby’s heart squeezed at the sight of Jim Morgan’s familiar face. She hadn’t seen him in at least four years, if not more, yet he looked exactly the same, save for a few new wrinkles around his mouth. He had to be in his late thirties by now, early forties perhaps, but his eyes were still shrewd, his dark hair still cropped in a no-nonsense military cut, and his body was charged with electricity as always. That always disturbed her, how wired he seemed, as if he could spring on you at any second, explode at the slightest provocation.
But Jeremy had trusted him, and she trusted Jeremy’s judgment. Morgan might not be a close friend—she didn’t have any of those—but he was, at the very least, an ally.
“I don’t need to be taken care of,” she grumbled, frowning at both men. “And I don’t appreciate being pumped with sedatives. You know how I feel about drugs, Jim.”
“Deal with it,” he said, rolling his eyes. He moved toward the bed, his gaze sweeping over her bruised face. “How are you doing?”
“I’m peachy. You know a few cuts and bruises aren’t going to keep me down for long.”
He laughed. “No, I don’t imagine they will. So… Noelle, huh? You didn’t mention you worked for her the last time I saw you.”
She gave a little shrug. “I know you don’t like her. You would’ve just lectured me.”
Kane watched the exchange with interest, his head swiveling back and forth to gauge her and Morgan’s expressions.
“Yep, you’d have received a lecture. Like the one you’re about to get now.” He cocked his head. “Why were you in the prison, Abby? We both know you’re too good at what you do to blow your cover.”
She didn’t answer. Force of habit. Both Jeremy and Noelle had drilled the importance of secrecy into her brain, and besides, she didn’t want to involve Morgan in this potentially suicidal mission. She was the one who’d chosen to tangle with Blanco and Devlin, and she’d be the one to rescue those girls. She’d always worked best alone, and she might be a coldhearted bitch at times, but she refused to see anyone she cared about get killed because she’d decided—foolishly, probably—to undertake this crusade.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” she finally said, her voice soft. “I don’t want you involved in this, Jim.”
Morgan sighed. “I’m already involved.” He paused, giving her another chance to open up. When she didn’t, he frowned, then turned to Kane and said, “We’re leaving in ten minutes. Get her ready.”
Abby stared after Morgan in distress as he stalked out of the room. She shifted her gaze to Kane. “I’m not going anywhere,” she insisted, panic rising up her spine.
“I don’t think you have much choice in the matter,” he answered wryly. He approached the bed, bent down and planted a hand on her waist. When she swatted it away he chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to jump you.”
“I don’t want you touching me.”
“Fine.” He straightened his back. “Serves me right for trying to be a gentleman. Get up.”
“What?”
“You obviously don’t need my help to do it. So come on, on your feet. We’re heading out.”
“You say that as if I’m going somewhere.”
“You are.”
“I told you, I’m not going anywhere. I don’t work for Morgan, so I don’t have to follow his orders.”
“Well, I do.” He flashed a charming smile, which she suspected would make most women swoon. “So stop being so damn difficult and get up.”
She stuck out her chin. “No.”
He swore under his breath. “Come on, help me out here. I’d really hate to injure you any further by dragging you out of here by your hair.”
She rubbed her swollen cheek, wondering if Kane would shoot her down if she tried to escape. Probably. Besides, getting out of this safe house would be a total bitch. Maybe she’d have better luck if she tried to bolt when they were on the move.
Yeah, probably a better plan. She’d play along with him. Get up. Follow him to wherever it was he was taking he
r. And grab any opportunity for escape before they reached their destination.
Drawing in a long breath, she swung her legs to the side of the bed and reached for the headboard again. She blinked, but the stars flashing in front of her eyes didn’t dissipate.
No. Don’t pass out. Stay alert, Abby.
Nausea scampered up her throat. She tried to take a step but her body protested wildly.
“Oh, for the love of God,” Kane grumbled.
The last thing she saw before fainting into Kane’s arms was his annoyed face.
Chapter 5
With a frown, Kane watched Luke carry Abby up the steps leading into the cabin of the small jet. He didn’t particularly want to take her back to Tijuana with them, but she was in no condition to be left on her own. The fever had peaked when they’d left the safe house and she’d been in and out of consciousness since then. He’d shoved a couple more pills in her mouth and forced her to swallow, but it was too soon to tell if the antibiotics would do their job.
“All set,” Morgan said as he entered the hangar. “When you get back to the compound, make sure she stays put, okay? Something’s going on with her.”
“You’re not coming?”
Morgan shook his head. “Holden and I are sticking around here. I want to do some digging, figure out what the hell happened to land her in the prison. She’s hiding something from us.”
“No shit.”
His boss sighed. “Look, I know you don’t like this. I don’t either. But you’re the only one I trust to keep her in line.”
“D would probably have better luck,” Kane remarked dryly.
“D would badger her until she killed him, or vice versa.” Morgan offered a cynical smile. “You’ve got more diplomacy.”
“I don’t like being a babysitter, Jim.”
“And I don’t like being kept in the dark. I can’t have her running around until I know what the hell’s going on. So keep an eye on her, and apply some pressure. See if you can get her to open up. I have a feeling she’s got something up her sleeve.”