by Tawny Weber
“You don’t care?” Heath asked, leaning in close.
“Not really,” she lied. She didn’t want these jerks anywhere near him and she’d do whatever it took to stop them. Even endure Heath’s repulsive touch. “As long as he gets cleaned up.”
“Don’t like the blood, sweetheart?”
When he called her sweetheart, it sounded like nails grating on a chalkboard. Nothing like when Jack said it.
“Not really.” She refused to tell him how the sight of blood made her lightheaded and dizzy.
The lights flickered and she drew in a sharp breath. She looked at Heath and said, “Better do it before the lights go out and the manager comes knocking. He’ll want to talk to Jack.”
The lights went out then came back on. Heath removed the gun and straightened. “Do it,” he said. “And no funny stuff.”
Darci nodded and rose to her feet, careful not to look at Jack. She knew he’d try and talk her out of this, so she hurried around Heath and into the bathroom, subtly closing the door halfway behind her.
Heart pounding, she grabbed a couple towels and washcloths out of the linen closet, the knife carefully tucked between them. Her hands shook so badly she almost dropped the whole thing. They would hear the knife clatter on the floor and then it would be all over. There wouldn’t be another chance, so she couldn’t screw this up. She needed to get the knife from the towels to Jack’s hands. He would know what to do then. She could do this. She had to do this.
Wetting one of the washcloths in hot water, she took a deep breath. Here goes. With deliberate care, she walked out of the bathroom and straight to Jack with shaking knees. Heath walked behind her, but the other guards were watching the television, bored. They’d found a sports channel and were engrossed. Good. The less attention she received, the better.
Jack watched her approach. Seeing him like this made her angry and sad. But Jack didn’t seem fazed by it—he simply rolled with the punches. She only wished she had half that ability.
She laid the towels on the floor to her far side where Heath wouldn’t see them and picked up the wet washcloth. Outside the doors, wind and rain pounded against the glass.
On her knees, she leaned over Jack and began wiping blood off his temple. Her stomach lurched and dots swam in front of her eyes, but she refused to pass out. Their lives depended on her staying with it.
Knowing her affliction regarding blood, Jack smiled and bumped her with his shoulder. She swallowed and turned the cloth over, pressing it gently against the wound to stop the blood flow and using the time to catch her breath.
“Hurry up,” Heath snapped when the lights flickered again.
“I am,” she snapped and received a warning glance from Jack. “Just…give me a minute.”
Heath didn’t move away from her shoulder, obviously not trusting her. As well he shouldn’t, but it made her nervous and her hands shook so hard she dropped the washcloth in Jack’s lap and had to start over.
Her head began to spin. As much as she tried not to look, she could see the blood on the cloth. It made her queasy.
The lights flickered off. Fighting the faint coming on, she leaned over, found the knife and quickly slipped it into Jack’s palm.
“Other way,” he whispered over the shuffling and cursing of the guards.
It took her a minute to realize what he meant. Then she reached behind him and turned the knife around, hearing him draw in a sharp breath. With her hands shaking as they were, he was lucky she didn’t cut his off. But she finally got it into his palm, hoping she hadn’t hurt him too much.
Fingers gripped her shoulder. “Get up,” Heath ordered as a flashlight clicked on, illuminating her face.
Dropping the towel, she rose to her feet, wincing as Heath’s fingers bit into her flesh. Two more flashlights turned on. The man standing behind Jack cursed and slapped his light against his palm. Darci watched as he tried to get his to work, hoping Jack could conceal his knife well enough when it did.
Something slammed against the window. Darci screamed. Too much. No lights, the storm, the weapon she’d given Jack’s that could get them both killed if discovered.
Jack sat still as stone, but she knew he used the knife to work the ropes binding his hands. Not as big or deadly-looking as the one he carried sheathed to his belt but it would do the job. Especially with someone like Jack wielding it. His skills weren’t something she doubted.
“Sit.” Heath led her to the bed and pushed her down. He lifted her chin with the barrel of his gun. “And don’t move from this spot.”
A warning she heeded. No way would she move from this spot. Not until Jack told her to. With a nod, she folded her hands in her lap and got comfortable.
Heath took advantage of the darkness and sat beside her on the bed, his hand resting on her thigh. His cologne did that nauseating thing and made her want to gag. She had news for him if he thought they were going to have a little make-out session.
“I’ve waited for this,” he said softly in her ear as his fingers inched farther up her thigh.
Darci inched away.
Shouting erupted behind her, a chair scraped across the floor and the flashlights went out, plunging them into darkness. Seizing the opportunity, she lashed out. Her palm connected with Heath’s face and she dug her nails in, hearing him shout in pain. He backhanded her and even in the darkness the blow connected to her jaw with enough power to send her tumbling backward off the bed.
Somewhere behind her she heard grunts and heavy thuds as something hit the floor next to her back. She rolled, bumping into the nightstand.
“Dammit, where are you?” Heath growled from above her, still on the bed. “Keep an eye on hi—”
His sentence cut off abruptly and Darci heard a struggle above her. The bed slammed against the wall and she curled up in a ball.
“Darci, run!”
Jack’s voice. On the bed. Not in the chair. She didn’t hesitate. She jumped to her feet and ran for the door. Well, she couldn’t run in the darkness, but she tried. She bumped into the foot of the bed, stumbled over a body, and felt along the wall for the door. When she found it she ran out, hollering for the bodyguard for help, but as soon as she entered the hallway she saw him lying on the floor in a pool of blood. A flash registered briefly before pain exploded in her head and her world crashed around her.
“Looks like you’ve managed to single handedly capture an international criminal,” FBI Special Agent Win Bekett said to Jack as he handed him a cup of black coffee. “We’ve been tracking this ring since last year.”
Jack wasn’t concerned with the FBI’s investigation. He wanted Darci’s location from the man they held in the cell down the hall. He’d taken down and secured Heath and his goons in the hotel room, using the darkness as cover, and expected to find Darci with the cop bodyguard. He’d never thought for a moment she’d disappear.
He’d found the cop dead and by time he got down to the lobby, she’d been gone. No one had seen her. Which meant someone had been waiting in the hallway and he’d screwed up. His only thought had been to get her out of the room safely. All he’d done was send her into danger. Now he was here in the police station sipping coffee and getting thanks from the FBI.
“Look.” Jack stared at the dark-haired man with unusual teal colored eyes and neatly trimmed hair gone spiky from where he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. He’d shed his dark suit jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his no-longer-crisp white shirt and loosened his dark tie so it hung like a noose. “The storm has settled and Darci is out there with that psycho’s other half. Eva will kill her if I don’t find her.”
Bekett nodded and handed Jack an ice pack for his eye. “We never suspected a brother/sister team. Probably why we couldn’t catch them,” he said with a shake of his head.
“I could use any help available in the search.” Jack tossed the pack on the table.
“The authorities down here are busy dealing with the storm. Let me see what I can do.”
<
br /> Jack nodded, feeling edgy. He could go it alone, but didn’t want to take any chances where Darci was concerned. He’d already put her in danger and he wouldn’t do it again by going off half-cocked. He’d take one or two FBI agents over nothing. He preferred his team, but they were in Coronado. Special Agent Bekett seemed like a man who got things done. He didn’t come across as a stereotypical G-man, black suits and black attitude. Instead he appeared down to earth and impressionable.
Bekett walked to the door with deceptive grace. Beneath the laid-back, easygoing exterior laid a man of steel, Jack would bet his life on it.
“We’ll get her back,” Bekett said with absolute certainty before leaving the room.
The door opened a few minutes later and Jack stopped pacing. Bekett strolled in, his lips drawn into a thin line. He handed Jack the weapons they’d confiscated when he arrived, and dumped an armload on the table.
“Good news. I had a heart-to-heart with the brother. He was surprisingly chatty about where his sister is holding your girlfriend.”
They exchanged glances and Bekett continued. “The not so good news? My partner was checking on a lead and got stranded in this damn storm so he’s holed up twenty minutes away. The police are spread thin trying to evacuate residents in the path of the storm and get everything boarded up. The captain and I go way back, so he’s given me a bit of leeway on this case. Looks like it’s you and me. You okay with that, Navy?”
Jack grinned and tucked a 9mm in his waistband. “My commander keeps telling me I need to learn to play nice with you G-men. May as well start now.”
A crooked grin lit up Bekett’s tanned face as he locked and loaded his own weapon. He looked like a kid in a candy store and Jack had to smile. Jack could relate. He always got a little pumped before a mission. Adrenaline could be quite a rush.
“Maybe your boss should have coffee with my boss.” He tossed Jack a Kevlar vest. “You gonna be okay with those wounds?”
SEALs were trained to function under compromised circumstances. “I’m good.” He slipped into the vest. “Just get me out of here.”
“Done.”
They finished loading up with weapons and ammo and left the station through the back door with Jack putting faith in a G-man to have his back.
Chapter 12
“How much did you give her? She isn’t waking up.”
Not true. Darci just couldn’t seem to open her eyes or move her extremities. They felt leaden.
She remembered Jack telling her to run. Then everything went blank. Except for the pain her captors were inflicting. She’d been conscious for the first couple of blows, but wished she hadn’t.
“I gave her enough to knock her out until we got her here.” Eva. She’d know that voice anywhere.
Where was Jack? Better yet, where was she? Tied to a chair and unable to move. At their mercy. Not so good. Especially since Eva threw the punches.
“Then I guess she needs a little incentive to stop playing games.”
The witch backhanded her and snapped her head to the side.
Darci forced her heavy eyelids open and squinted at the light coming from a bulb hanging from the ceiling. “I’m awake,” she muttered, wishing the fog would leave her brain so she could think.
Looking around, she saw some kind of warehouse. Deserted, except for some old, rusty benches and a few boxes. A couple men with guns walked the perimeter, but other than that she didn’t see anyone except Eva. She could hear the storm raging outside the thin metal walls.
“No more games.” Eva gripped her chin. “You and your lover have caused a lot of trouble for me.”
Point for them. Darci wisely kept the comment to herself. The Amazon looked edgy.
Eva bent so she could meet Darci’s gaze, her eyes feral. “When loverboy comes to your rescue I’m going to kill you in front of him. Then slice his throat.”
Hope fluttered through her chest. Jack survived. Thank heaven. She still had a chance to get out of this. Jack would come for her. She knew it and so did Eva.
“You set a trap for him.” She hated this woman and her brother.
“Figured that out, did you? How’s it feel knowing you’re the bait that will bring your lover to his death?”
“It hasn’t worked yet, has it?”
Eva’s eyes narrowed and she straightened. “I liked you better when you were out. Don’t push me.”
Darci took the warning to heart. Antagonizing this woman: not a good idea. She needed to stay alive until Jack arrived.
She just hoped he hurried.
Win Bekett was a machine. The agent’s stamina and skills impressed Jack. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Bekett had been on the teams at some point. They were soaked to the skin, covered in mud and trekking through the jungle toward an abandoned warehouse in a damn tropical storm.
“What’s Win short for?” he asked as they trudged up a steep hill.
Win tossed a wry grin over his shoulder. “That’s the million dollar question.” He disappeared over the top of the hill.
Jack shook his head. Obviously not going to tell him. So what was the mystery? Win could only be short for a few names: Winston, Winslow, Winfield? All of which were horrendous and probably why he preferred Win.
“Are all you G-men this vague?”
“Yeah, we take a special class. Hold on.”
Jack stopped, listened and looked but saw and heard nothing except blowing wind. “What is it?”
“Thought I heard something.” They moved onward. “Should be over the next hill. You sure the sister has Darci?”
“I’d stake my life on it.”
“You may be doing just that. I’m assuming she’s worth it?”
“Yeah, she’s worth it.”
Bekett nodded. “Then let’s go get her.”
Ouch! That hurt. Why did this woman like to hit her in the face? She could feel the swelling and could only imagine what she looked like. Probably like Jack.
Okay, Jack, now would be a good time to save the day.
And there he was. The front door burst open and Jack filled it, gun in hand and wearing a murderous expression. Eva spun around as Jack took out the two guards walking the perimeter.
“Ah, the hero is here at last.” Eva knelt behind her.
“What are you doing?”
The ropes binding her wrists were removed, but before she could react Eva had an arm around her neck and lifted her to her feet.
Another man had come in behind Jack, and started trussing up the two guards. Darci didn’t recognize him. Tall and lean with spiky black hair, a white dress shirt and slacks, he didn’t look like a cop. Then again, she wouldn’t know the difference. He wore the same black vest as Jack and had a gun in each hand.
“Secure?” Jack asked the man, who nodded.
“Put your weapons down or I blow her head off.” Eva drew their attention to where she had a gun held to Darci’s temple.
Jack tossed his weapon aside and nodded at the other man, who pursed his lips and did the same. Guns clattered across the floor as Jack took slow steps toward them.
No. She didn’t want him to come any closer. Eva had a twitchy trigger finger.
“Let her go, Eva. This is Special Agent Bekett from the FBI. He has your brother in custody and he’s ready to cut a deal.”
“Stop right there.” Eva tightened her grip on Darci’s neck. “I don’t cut deals with the FBI.”
“Then let Darci go and take me.”
Darci glared at Jack. He wasn’t helping. Blondie held the only gun in the room.
“I have what I want.”
“You can’t kill us all, Eva, so you may as well let her go.”
“Wrong,” Eva said and Darci panicked, ready for her to pull the trigger.
Things happened in slow motion. Darci drove her foot into Eva’s shin at the same time more of Eva’s goons burst through the door. She saw Jack and the FBI agent both reach behind their backs and pull out weapons as bullets rained thr
ough the warehouse.
Something slammed into her temple and at first she thought she’d been shot. She heard a click, but the gun didn’t go off. Stunned, she threw an elbow back, connecting with Eva’s stomach, and heard the woman grunt. She retaliated with a punch to Darci’s kidney. That hurt.
Her self-defense training kicked in and Darci got the upper hand. The Amazon’s spike heels served as a hindrance as Darci knocked her off balance and sent her stumbling backward. She used the opportunity to run for Jack, who returned fire.
“Darci, get down!” Jack yelled as he and the FBI agent secured the guards. Darci dropped to the floor and covered her head as the bullets slowed and eventually stopped.
She lifted her head in time to see Jack rise to his feet simultaneously with Eva. She should have taken Eva’s weapon away. Why hadn’t she taken it? Too late for regrets.
Eva pointed her gun at Jack’s head. Darci screamed a warning. Jack spun around. Eva pulled the trigger. The shot echoed through the warehouse.
The FBI agent leaped, blocking Jack with his body and flying backward when the bullet ripped through his shoulder.
Darci saw blood and everything went black.
Chapter 13
Boston, two months later
As the lights dimmed in the little Irish pub—the same pub where she and her band had gotten their start—Darci took her place on stage. Her heart felt heavy and light at the same time with the prospect of going her own way and becoming a songwriter like she’d always dreamed.
The pub was unusually quiet for this time of the night, all eyes trained on her as Brian tapped out a light beat on his drums. Darci raised the mic at the same time Jess began playing the uilleann pipes in a haunting melody certain to bring tears to the audience’s eyes. As Kit and Gil chimed in with guitars, she began to sing, her emotion seeping into the words.
The melody consumed Darci. She soon lost herself in the words, no longer feeling the sadness of the break-up of her band or the loss of the man she loved. She’d written their song when she returned to Boston and her band was playing it tonight for the first time as their final set. She only hoped she could get through it without bursting into tears.