by Elle Kennedy
“I’ll do my best.” Kane shrugged. “She’s tough, though. I don’t think she’ll tell me anything she doesn’t want us to know.”
“Holden and I’ll fly back in a day or two. Man the fort until I get back.” With a nod, Morgan stalked off, heading to the Jeep parked at the edge of the dirt runway. Holden was behind the wheel, and he offered a brisk wave in Kane’s direction before revving the engine.
The Jeep raised a cloud of dust as it sped off. Kane watched it for a moment, then sighed and turned back toward the hangar. When he stepped aboard the plane, he found Ethan kneeling next to Abby’s seat, lifting a cup of water to her lips. Luke was next to her, looking slightly bored and impatient, while D sat on the other side of the small plane, scowling. Sam stood near the cockpit, silent as always.
“The fever hasn’t gone down,” Ethan said when he caught sight of Kane.
Ignoring the comment, Kane turned to Sam. “Get us in the air. Morgan and Holden aren’t coming.”
Sam nodded and headed for the cockpit, adding over his shoulder, “Buckle up. The runway hasn’t been used in a while, so it could get bumpy.” He disappeared into the cockpit, shutting the narrow door behind him. He’d worked as their pilot for four years now, and Kane appreciated his quiet efficiency and his ability to follow orders without question.
Moving into the cabin, Kane sank into the plush seat next to D. The plane’s engine coming to life made the cabin shake, a high-pitched whine filling the air. The takeoff was indeed bumpy, but they were in the air a few minutes later and Kane was finally able to relax. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. The three days they’d spent in this country had been a total irritation.
He glanced over at Abby. “How are your ribs?” he asked, unbuckling his seat belt once they’d reached the necessary altitude.
Her blue eyes looked glazed and weary as she answered, “They’re fine. Don’t hurt at all.”
“You know, you’re an amazing liar,” he replied with a pleasant smile.
“Why isn’t Morgan coming with us?” she asked, sounding uneasy.
“He had things to do.”
An annoyed cloud floated across her face. “Checking up on me?”
“We’re only trying to help you. There’s no reason for you to be so antagonistic.”
Next to Abby, Luke leaned forward, a lock of messy dark hair falling into his suddenly curious eyes. “What did you do to him?”
She spared Luke a glance. “What did I do to whom?”
“The dude in the prison. We all heard those screams. Sounded like someone getting their head ripped off.”
“Close enough.” She pushed a strand of red hair off her forehead. In the dim lighting of the cabin the bruise on her left eye looked almost green. Her eyes closed and she continued speaking, her voice dull and emotionless, as if she were reciting a passage from a history textbook. “The man was William Devlin. He tried to rape me.”
“Devlin?” Kane said in surprise. “That was who they carried out of the jail?”
She eyed him sharply. “You know him?”
“Yes.” He eyed her right back. “And from what I know of the man, he prefers torture to rape.”
“Is there a difference?” she asked mildly. Without letting him respond, she went on. “He tried to get the guards to do it first, but I took care of them. Then he stepped up to bat, climbed on top of me, rape definitely on his agenda.”
Kane found himself oddly fascinated as he listened to her speak. “And what did you do, Abby?”
Her eyelids opened. Meeting his gaze, she set her jaw and said, “I ripped his eye out.”
The four men just stared at her, this woman whose voice had suddenly become toxic, whose words shocked them into silence.
“You… ripped his eye out,” Ethan finally sputtered, looking stunned.
“Right out of the socket.” She turned her head and pressed her cheek against the leather seat.
Kane exchanged a look with D. Jesus Christ. Who was this woman? And damn, but he couldn’t fight the rush of triumph knowing she’d stuck it to that sadistic bastard Devlin. It was something he’d wanted to do himself since the moment he’d met the son of a bitch. Morgan had actually been considering Devlin for the team, around the same time Kane came aboard. Devlin had gone on one of the early assignments, a test of sorts, and one he’d failed miserably. Kane could still remember the horror that swarmed his body when he’d watched Devlin slice off the head of a South African rebel with a machete. The bloodlust in Devlin’s hollow eyes had been enough to convince Morgan that William Devlin had no part on their team.
Abby suddenly lifted her head and stared at him, bringing a flicker of discomfort to Kane’s gut. From the moment he’d met her, her sharp, unwavering gaze had knocked him off balance. He had a thing for strong women, but Abby Sinclair… she was almost too strong, if that was possible. The woman was carved from a block of ice. She was cold, detached, so utterly composed that he was tempted to walk over and shake her a little, just to see if she’d flinch. Probably not. She was in full control of herself. Her words were carefully measured, her intelligent eyes in a constant state of alertness despite the sedatives administered by the doc. She didn’t reveal a sliver of emotion.
She reminded him a lot of himself.
“Tell the pilot to land,” she said, the pleading note in her voice coming as a total shock. “Please, Kane. I can’t be here.”
Next to him D stiffened. “You’re in no position to give us orders,” D barked. “So shut up, take a nap, and save the demands for your boss.”
Abby’s gaze landed on D. She looked extremely intrigued. “And you are?”
“Someone you don’t want to mess with,” he snapped, his black eyes burning.
“Derek Pratt.” Ethan introduced his colleague hesitantly. “We call him D.”
“D,” she echoed. She pursed her lips. “You don’t want me here, do you, D?”
He shot her a hard look. “Not really, no.”
“And you didn’t want to rescue me.”
“Nope, can’t say I did.”
“Then get me off this plane,” she said bluntly. “I didn’t ask to be rescued either, and frankly, I have things to take care of, so for God’s sake, just—”
“What things?” Kane demanded. “Tell us what you’re up to and maybe we can help.”
Help? The second the word exited his mouth he wanted to kick himself. The look of disgusted disbelief on D’s face confirmed the error of his ways. What was he thinking, offering assistance? They’d been lucky to get in and out of Blanco’s compound unharmed, though he knew now that it was thanks to Abby’s violent assault on Blanco’s second in command. If she hadn’t thrown the entire compound into chaos, chances were they wouldn’t have been able to manage such a smooth rescue.
But they had rescued her, and now it was time to wash their hands of it. Kane didn’t mind a bit of danger, and most of the others took risks like they popped vitamins, but Luis Blanco wasn’t a man you wanted to mess with. Blanco might not be on the same level as Devlin when it came to bloodlust, but the man was a power-hungry tyrant. Let his own government put him out of commission. As far as Kane was concerned, it wasn’t his responsibility, or his problem.
“Forget it,” Abby mumbled, closing her eyes again. “I’ll figure something out.”
Kane smothered a groan. Shit, getting answers out of this woman was like extracting teeth. They needed those answers, damn it. Morgan and Holden had stayed behind, risking their necks in order to figure out why Abby Sinclair had wound up in that prison, and Kane wasn’t about to lose anyone he cared about because this woman liked to keep secrets.
A sprawling ranch house greeted them as the Jeep slowed at the end of the long dirt road. Acres of open land surrounded the area, as well as an ominous electric fence and a tall stone wall more suited for a medieval fortress than a ranch in Mexico. Or at least she thought it was Mexico. She’d heard one of Morgan’s men mention the location after they
’d landed on the dusty airstrip a dozen miles back, but she could’ve imagined it. The fever had ebbed but her brain still felt foggy. She just hoped she hadn’t said something she shouldn’t have when she’d been delirious.
Her entire body hurt. She didn’t know what was worse—the constant irritation from her clothes rubbing against the welts on her body, or the fact that she was too damn weak to go off on her own. Each time the Jeep hit a pothole her head spun like a merry-go-round. Each time she moved an inch her ribs throbbed relentlessly. If she tried to run, she wouldn’t make it three feet without passing out. That knowledge was the only thing that reined her in. She couldn’t flee in her condition. Too weak. Too wounded.
You’re strong. A day or two and you’ll be back in Bogotá.
Jeremy’s voice again. In her head. As always. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a coherent thought that didn’t manifest itself as Jeremy’s voice.
The Jeep came to a stop in front of the large electric gate. From the driver’s seat D stuck his arm out, punched a sequence of numbers into a keypad panel, and the gate swung open. She stared at his impressive biceps, studying the tattoo that covered his entire arm. Looked to be Japanese style, with a lethal samurai on his upper arm, fighting a snake coiled around the forearm. The background was filled in with black and gray wind bars and waves, giving the entire scene a turbulent feel.
Derek Pratt aka D wasn’t happy with her presence—he’d made it clear on the plane that he wanted to be rid of her. There was something dark and dangerous rippling under his surface. He had a troubled past, as dark as hers, she suspected. In fact, out of all the men, she felt the biggest kinship toward D, despite his obvious hatred.
She could read the other two pretty well too. The young one, Ethan, seemed almost out of place on Morgan’s team. He was handsome in a preppy sort of way, and way too polite for his own good. He’d told her on the jet that he’d served in the Marine Corps for four years before being recruited by Morgan. She couldn’t picture the kid ever being in battle, but evidently Morgan saw a killer instinct in the guy, otherwise he wouldn’t have taken him on.
Luke was the opposite of Ethan. Sexy as sin, most women would say. He’d been tapping his foot during the entire flight, as if he couldn’t wait to go off and do something exciting. A bundle of energy, and though he’d barely said two words to her, she’d caught him checking her out several times. She suspected he was the ladies’ man of the group.
And then there was Kane. The only one she hadn’t gotten a handle on. He was obviously in charge in Morgan’s absence, and seemed completely comfortable in the role of leader. Easygoing on the surface, but with a deadly air to him. Like D, there was anger in him, but he hid it with sarcastic remarks and dry grins, unlike D, who simply looked like he wanted to strangle someone all the time.
“This is Morgan’s place?” Abby asked as D drove through the gate and parked the vehicle a few yards from the main house. The house was enormous but nondescript. Stucco and brick with a large flight of stairs leading to a pillared entrance.
“Yep,” Ethan confirmed.
“Another safe house?”
Kane spared her a glance as he hopped out of the Jeep. “Actually, we live here.”
Her mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. “Do you boys have slumber parties every night?”
“Funny. Morgan didn’t tell us you were a comedian.” Without a backward look, he strode toward the house, his faded jeans and navy blue T-shirt clinging to his lean frame. D marched after him, shaved head gleaming in the afternoon sun.
“Don’t mind him,” Ethan said. “Cute and cuddly isn’t in Kane’s nature.”
“No, I don’t suppose it is.” She decided to take advantage of Kane’s being out of sight and said, “How long have you worked for Morgan?”
“About two years.” He smiled endearingly. “I’m the rookie.” He swiftly changed the subject. “Can you walk?”
She took a tentative step forward and swallowed when her body ached in protest. “Probably not.”
Infinitely gentle, he wrapped one muscular arm around her shoulder and helped her across the dusty earth toward the house, while Luke stayed behind to unload the Jeep. Ethan half carried her up the front steps, and she winced as her shirt brushed against the welts on her back. Her head was starting to clear, though. She didn’t feel as light-headed as before, and that showed improvement. Now all she needed was for her ribs to stop feeling as if they’d been scraped raw. A few days of rest would help speed the healing process along, and then she could make plans to get back to Colombia to finish her mission. How long had she been in the safe house? One day, she figured. Which meant she had eleven days until the auction. Eleven days to find a way out of here, return to Colombia, and rescue those girls.
“Is Noelle here?” she asked, glancing around the front hall. She was surprised by the elegance of the space. Gorgeous landscapes covered the off-white walls, bringing an air of peace and charm, and a skylight above allowed sunshine to stream into the house.
“She went into town,” came Kane’s voice. “She left word with Lloyd that she’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Lloyd?” Abby echoed.
“Our housekeeper.”
She raised one brow. “Your housekeeper is male?”
“Yep. He’s a great guy,” Ethan said. “You’ll like him.”
He was about to say more when a blur of brown and black burst into the hall and Abby found herself staring at a huge German shepherd with oddly floppy ears. Her gaze connected with the liquid brown eyes of the dog, who snarled when he saw her.
“And this is Bear,” Kane said with a grin. “Don’t be offended. He doesn’t usually like strang—”
A loud whine interrupted. The dog was suddenly at Abby’s side, rubbing his nose against her leg. Bear stared up at her, unblinking, then shifted his head toward Kane and Ethan and let out a deep growl.
Both men raised their eyebrows. “Why is he growling at us?” Ethan asked in a wary voice.
Kane let out a sigh. “He’s protecting her.”
I can protect myself, she almost grumbled at the dog.
Shaking his head, Kane turned to Ethan. “Take the mutt and go help Luke unload the gear. I’ll show Abby to her room.”
With a faint good-bye, Ethan slid out the front door, leaving her and Kane alone in the massive hall.
“Cute dog,” she remarked wryly.
Kane looked a tad bewildered. “Uh, not usually.” He shrugged and reached for her. “Come on—let’s go upstairs.”
She moved away before he could take her arm. For some reason, she didn’t want him to touch her. When Ethan helped her inside, his touch had felt brotherly. The younger man wasn’t attracted to her. Neither was D, or even Luke, despite his subtle flirting, which was why she felt reluctantly at ease with them. But Kane… He hadn’t flirted with her, hadn’t sent any suggestive looks in her direction, yet she sensed the sexual awareness simmering beneath the surface. He noticed her as a woman, and that was something that always made her distinctly uncomfortable.
“I can manage,” she said coolly, walking toward the stairs on her left. Her ribs throbbed, but she breathed through the pain and forced her legs to carry her up the steps.
Kane trailed after her, and she could feel his dark green eyes boring into her back. On the second-floor landing, he took the lead, ushering her into a bedroom that was surprisingly cozy. Pale yellow curtains hung at a large window that overlooked the grounds. A tall cedar bookshelf rested against one wall, crammed with novels, from Dostoevsky to Stephen King, and the lovely stone fireplace with the leather armchair next to it offered a quiet niche to lose yourself in. The massive bed with its four posts and filmy canopy reminded her of something out of a Victorian-era painting.
“I see you’re admiring the bed.” Kane’s voice came out slow and silky. “Most women seem to like it.”
She whirled around in time to see a sensual glint fill his green eyes, and she immediately st
iffened, confused by the fire that spread through her body. What the hell was that? Desire? She banished the thought. No, she didn’t feel things like desire or sexual awareness. It was probably indignation, over the fact that he was flirting with her.
“I want to see Noelle,” she said firmly.
“I told you, she’s not back yet. So why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you when she gets here.” He raked a hand through his blond hair. “It was a long flight. Get some rest.”
She squared her shoulders. “I don’t want to rest.”
“Fine,” he muttered. “Then how about a cup of tea? Lloyd’s really into tea. He has these different kinds that are supposed to treat all types of ailments.” He cocked his head. “Maybe he’s got one with truth serum.”
Her lips tightened. “I’ll have coffee.”
“Of course.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, then, we’re going back downstairs apparently.”
He kept his hands to himself as they headed down the staircase. The kitchen was off the main hallway, an enormous room with granite counters and stainless-steel appliances. When they walked in, a giant of a man was pouring steaming coffee into two large mugs, as if he’d anticipated the request Kane hadn’t even posed yet. The man had a head of curly red hair, a beard that seemed to devour his entire face, and a bulky frame that made him look like a linebacker.
“You must be Abby,” the giant said with a cheerful smile. “I’m Lloyd.”
“Nice to meet you.” She was slightly taken aback by his gentle voice. It seemed out of place coming from such an intimidating, massive man.
“May I ask what happened to your face?” Lloyd inquired in a polite tone.
She met his eyes. “I walked into a door.”
“Of course,” he said with a nod. He glanced at Kane. “Sit out on the patio. It’s a gorgeous day. Blue sky, yellow sun, singing birds—my three favorite things.”
“Well, God forbid we miss out on such splendor,” Kane said mockingly.
Lloyd shot him a disapproving look before turning to Abby. “Kane doesn’t appreciate the simple things in life.” He placed the coffee mugs on a steel tray. “He’s also too sarcastic for his own good. Don’t blame him for that, though. It’s his nature.”