by Roz Lee
Like the man responsible for this. Heavy footfalls told Drew the man was pacing near the window. Sounds he'd become very familiar with told him night still cloaked the house. He sensed no lights were on in the room, though a weak light filtered in through the open door from the hallway. His cheek pressed against cool wood, and coupled with the position of the window and door, this had to be Richard’s and Fallon's playroom, which explained the soft cotton ropes around his wrists.
Bree stirred beside him, and he opened his eyes. Red-hot rage spiraled through his system. She lay on her side, her arms and hands tied behind her nude body. She blinked, and the tiniest of smiles curved her lips. A profound sense of relief rose like a tide and washed over him, leaving behind a firm resolve to get them both out of this situation. He found what he thought was a smile, and Bree blinked in acknowledgement.
Drew grunted and cursed as he struggled against his restraints. His efforts earned him a kick to the ribs from their captor, and an admonishment to shut up. Drew fought the urge to vomit. When he was in control of his body, at least his insides, he squirmed around to get a better look at the room.
"Who the hell are you, and what do you want?" he demanded.
"What's it to you, asshole? My business is with the little lady." In the darkness, Drew couldn't make out the man's face, but the Southern drawl left little doubt this was the elusive Vernon Cannon. He mentally scored points for Bree. Her analysis of Cannon's state of mind was spot-on.
"Since you clocked me on the head and have me hog-tied on the floor, I think that makes it my business now."
"Just shut the fuck up. If you're lucky, I'll let you go later, but no one is going anywhere until the ship I came in on is unloaded in the morning."
"Then you have a problem, Mr. Cannon," Bree spoke up. "No one is unloading anything onto the island unless I tell them to."
"Is that right, Mrs. Wolfe?" Cannon sneered. "I saw you on the dock yesterday, strutting around like the queen. Does your husband know you're fucking this bastard while he's away?"
Chapter Fifteen
He thought Bree was Fallon Wolfe. Interesting. Of course, Cannon had met Richard, but perhaps he hadn't met Fallon. Or if he had, he didn't remember her. Bree wasn't correcting him, so Drew kept his mouth shut too.
"That's none of your business, Mr. Cannon. But if you want your ship unloaded, you'll have to let me go. This is my island, and as you put it, I'm the queen."
Streaks of pink and gold were beginning to stream through the window. The ships would be unloaded whether Bree was there or not, but Cannon didn't know that. He prayed Bree could convince Cannon to let her go.
"After I saw you yesterday, I asked around, found out you were living in Richard's house. That's when I figured out who you were. I thought you were a blonde."
"Do you see any hair salons around here?" Bree sounded disgusted.
"It's just like Richard Wolfe to leave his whore of a wife on an island full of men, to do a man's job. How much does this one mean to you, Fallon?" He nudged Drew's shoulder with his booted foot. "I'm going to let you go when the sun comes up, but I'm keeping lover boy. I'll kill him if my ship isn't unloaded first thing."
"You'll let him go when the ship is unloaded?"
"I can see the dock from here." He nodded at the window. "I'll let him go when I see my stuff on the dock."
Yeah, that promise and a couple of dollars would buy you a cup of coffee. "What's so important about the stuff on your ship?" Drew asked.
"You'll see soon enough. I'm finally going to get even with Richard Wolfe."
"What did Richard do to you?" Bree asked.
"The bastard stole Crystal from me! She wanted him, and that fucking ship of his, and when I tried to buy it for her, the bastard refused to sell it. I always get what I want."
"Maybe I could convince him to sell. He'll listen to me."
"Yeah, well, I'm through trying to get the ship. Crystal's gone for good, and now I'm going to destroy Richard Wolfe, starting with this fucking resort. And maybe I'll take you too."
Certifiable. No doubt about it. Drew hated dealing with crazy people. They were unpredictable. He really didn't want to know what Cannon meant by his comment about taking Bree. It could mean a number of things, none of which were good.
"Well, I'm not too happy with Richard myself. Untie me, and maybe we can work something out. I'm not exactly thrilled about being left on this island to work my ass off while Richard is living it up in Miami. Why else would I be hooking up with this guy? Construction workers aren't my type."
"Hey!" Drew protested.
"Don't worry, sugar. I wasn't talking about you." Bree shot him a smile that said she knew what she was doing and to shut up.
"You're just like all the others, looking for a sugar-daddy. I knew Richard couldn't keep a woman like you happy. He must be pitiful in the sack if he has to tie up his women so they'll let him fuck 'em."
"Yeah, well, I'm tired of that too. It was fun for a while, but you're right. The sex isn't all that great."
"You do what I say, and I'll show you what it's like to be with a real man."
"I'm looking forward to it," Bree almost purred. If he hadn't known what she was up to, Drew would have been sick.
Cannon walked to the window and stood silent as the sky gradually grew lighter. Drew and Bree waited for the man to decide his next move. He'd been working on his restraints since the moment he'd regained consciousness, but the bastard had done a good job with the ropes. He was at the man's mercy, and he knew in his gut that Vernon Cannon had no mercy. Right now, his best hope was for Bree to convince Cannon to let her go. It was their only hope.
"This is what we're going to do." Cannon picked up the handgun he'd left on the windowsill and turned. "I'm going to let you go. You're going to go down to the dock and see that my ship gets unloaded. I'll be watching from here. If you so much as talk to anyone for longer than I think necessary, I'll kill your boy-toy."
"I have to talk to the workers."
"I'll be watching. If anyone heads up the trail, I'll shoot this one." He waved the gun at Drew. "And then I'll shoot them. Just get the ship unloaded."
"And then what? Will you take me with you when you leave?"
"Maybe." Hatred brewed in Drew's gut as Cannon raked Bree's naked body with his gaze. "You aren't half-bad. First thing I'd do is wax that jungle between your legs. Christ, you look like a heathen. I like my women smooth."
Drew couldn't contain his disgust. His protest earned him another kick to the stomach.
"Richard likes it. I used to keep it smooth as a baby's butt before I met him."
Drew bit his tongue as Cannon knelt next to Bree and traced the lines of her body with the barrel of his gun. "I'm going to loosen the ropes enough so you can wiggle out of them. Make it a good show, and I'll let you get dressed before I send you down to the dock."
Bree did indeed make it a good show. She had Cannon's full attention, giving Drew time to work on his restraints in earnest. He managed to loosen the ropes at his wrists, but not enough to slip his hands free. At least blood was flowing to his fingers again. He'd need that when he strangled the life out of Vernon Cannon.
"There." Bree freed herself from the ropes and stretched. In the weak morning light, Drew could see the sweat forming on Cannon's brow. "You know, you didn't have to go to this much trouble." She sidled closer to Cannon, doing her best slut imitation. Cannon stepped back, waving his gun around like this was some sort of television show. Bree, no idiot, stopped her pursuit. "What now, sugar?" She looked down at Drew as if he were an insect. "He won't be any trouble. Why don't we go in the bedroom, and you can show me how a real man does it."
"Fallon, baby…." Drew pleaded. "You said I was the best you ever had."
"Shut up," Cannon spat. He waved the gun at the door. "Let's go. I'll watch you get dressed. Then you're going to get my ship unloaded. There'll be plenty of time for fucking later."
Drew exchanged a glance with Bree before
she turned and strutted through the door with Cannon on her heels. He listened to the sounds of her getting dressed, and her teasing narration he figured was more for his benefit than Cannon's. As long as she was talking, Cannon wasn't fucking her. Alone, Drew worked harder on the ropes at his wrists. He had a new respect for the bondage games Richard and Fallon played. He truly was at another's mercy as the ropes refused to give any further.
He was soaked with sweat from his efforts by the time Bree walked past the door on her way out. Cannon followed her to the front door. He knew a moment of relief. Bree was safe, at least for now. But if he knew her, she had no intention of remaining that way. She'd come back to get Cannon. He made a mental calculation of the time it would take for her to double back. There was a large portion of the trail that wasn't visible from the house. Bree would use the opportunity to leave the trail and come back through the dense woods to the house. It was up to him to keep Cannon distracted so he didn't notice how long Bree was out of sight. Once she entered the house, he had to buy her time to retrieve a weapon.
As soon as Cannon returned, Drew began his campaign. "Do you really think a class act like Fallon Wolfe is going to fuck the likes of you?"
"Class act? She's a whore. She'll fuck anybody for the right price. Is that what the beer was for?"
Drew saw red. He was going to enjoy every minute of killing this guy. Drew had spent a lot of time in the company of Fallon, and calling her a whore, even if he was directing the insult at a woman he only thought was Fallon, took this guy from shithead to deserves-to-die shithead.
"And what does that make you?” Drew said. “I'll tell you. It makes you a dumb-fuck. Oh well, it doesn't matter. She's just using you to get off this island. Besides, you're too old to keep up with her. She's a tiger in bed. You should see the bite marks on my chest. Christ! She'll chew up an old fart like you, and spit you out."
"You don't know shit. I don't want her anyway, but I am going to fuck her. I'm going to tie her up and fuck her brains out, and I'm going to videotape the whole thing. Then I'm going to send it to that bastard husband of hers. Maybe I'll keep her for a while, fuck her every which way, and send him the tapes before I give her back to him."
Cannon was pacing now, not paying any attention to the trail, or to Drew. He was lost in his delusional world, planning his revenge on Richard. He was one sick bastard, no doubt about it. Drew tried to judge the time. Had Bree made it back to the house? Was she close? He had no idea where she'd left her weapon, or for that matter, what Cannon had done with his. At first, he'd hoped Cannon hadn't found the knife strapped to his ankle, but he had, and he'd taken his gun too. Just another example of the man's delusions. He apparently hadn't questioned what a construction worker was doing with an arsenal on his person.
He tracked Cannon's agitated strides with his eyes, pressing his cheek against the floor, hoping to pick up the slightest vibration that would indicate Bree was inside. He listened with half interest to the ravings of a madman, prodding when he knew he could provoke him the most. It seemed like hours before he picked up the faintest tremor, or maybe it was a change in the air as a door opened and closed somewhere in the house. Bree was in. Time to pull out the big guns. He had to keep Cannon focused entirely on him until Bree could arm herself and get into position.
"You know what I think?" he asked, continuing without allowing Cannon time to respond. "I think you couldn't get it up if you had to. That's why that Crystal girl you were talking about left you. I can see her disgust now. I bet she was all smooth, and toned. Big boobs too. What did she do? Did she lie there, getting herself off while you tried to get it up? That's what happened. I know it."
"Shut the fuck up!" Cannon waved the gun around like the madman he was, but Drew had his full attention.
Drew continued to push. "Was her pussy waxed? I bet it was. She'd look like the child she probably was. That turns you on, doesn't it? Little girls? The younger the better. I can see it does. You're nothing more than a pervert."
Cannon had stopped his pacing and his rage was focused entirely on Drew now. The hand holding the gun was steady as he pointed it at Drew's head. "You know what they do to people like you in prison? That's where you're going. To prison. You'll be someone's toy soon enough. They love people like you, perverts. A bunch of big guys are going to corner you in the shower and before you know it, you'll have a bar of soap in your mouth and a huge cock up your ass."
"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Drew had pushed all the buttons he dared. Rage steadied Cannon's hand. The man was one involuntary twitch away from pulling the trigger. Drew prayed he'd judged the time correctly. If Bree was going to appear, now would be perfect.
"Federal agent! Drop the gun, Cannon."
Drew had been in life-and-death situations before, but he'd never experienced the heart-stopping fear he did when Cannon shifted his focus from him to Bree. She stood in the doorway in a perfect stance. His frozen heart slammed against his chest. Damn, she was magnificent. The thought registered simultaneously with another one. If she wasn't quick enough, if she hesitated a fraction of a second, Cannon would kill her.
Time slowed. Drew tensed. He saw the instant Cannon made up his mind to pull the trigger and threw everything he had into propelling his legs toward Cannon. His feet made contact, causing Cannon to lose his balance. Two shots rang out. Too close to tell if they came from the same gun, or if Cannon had gotten a shot off too. He instinctively closed his eyes as blood splattered over him like acid rain. The floor shook beneath him as Cannon toppled.
Silence. A heartbeat. Two. Had he been too late? Had Cannon's shot found his target?
"What the hell were you doing? He was going to shoot your stupid ass!"
Drew forced his eyes open as Bree stormed the room. She kicked Cannon's gun across the room, beyond the reach of the fallen man.
His avenging angel. She didn't even pause to assess Cannon's condition. Drew smiled as she knelt beside him, cutting the ropes from his hands and his ankles with the knife he recognized as his own. He quickly catalogued her condition and thanked God she was unhurt.
Drew rubbed his wrists, took the knife from her hands and slid it back into its sheath. "I was distracting him so you could get into the house and find a weapon."
She pressed a gun into his hand. "Here. This one is yours. Mine's in the bedroom. The dumbass left yours on the table in the entryway. I saw it when he ushered me out."
"Is he dead?" Drew asked as he checked the weapon, a habit he knew could save his life. Assured it was properly loaded, he slid it into the holster at his back.
"Who cares?"
"I care. Go get your weapon, and if you have more stashed in the house, bring them." Drew knelt beside Cannon and pressed two fingers to his carotid.
"He's alive." He slapped Cannon and nudged him with his knee. "Nice shot. Maybe too nice."
"Thanks, I think."
"Get your weapon, and bring some water. We need this guy to talk."
It took a few minutes and a dowsing with water to bring Cannon around. The man was in pain, with little hope of surviving the gunshot wound, but that didn't stop Drew from interrogating him.
"What did you bring to the island? What's on the ship, Cannon? We know you had help from known terrorists. What did they give you?"
"What's going on, Drew? What are you talking about?"
Cannon refused to answer Drew's questions, and Drew ignored Bree's. He might not have much time, and he needed to get what he could from Cannon before the bastard died, or passed out again. "Tell me what you brought to the island, and we'll get help for you. I don't have a problem letting you die right here."
"Drew…." Bree sounded alarmed. "We can't—"
"The hell we can't. This bastard has been consorting with terrorists." He turned his attention back to Cannon. "We know all about your Taliban friends." Drew yanked Cannon to a sitting position with his collar clenched in his fist. "The list of crimes you've committed includes treason now, you asshole. Tell me wha
t's on that ship and you might get life instead of the death penalty."
Cannon groaned, and Drew let him drop to the floor. Bree left, and he hoped it was to retrieve her weapon. It had to be clear to her now he'd been lying to her for months. He'd be lucky if she didn't shoot him when she returned. As much as he wanted to take her aside and explain, now wasn't the time. He had to know what they were dealing with before he boarded that ship.
He used the time alone with Cannon to convince the man to talk. He met Bree at the door, wrapped his fingers around her forearm and pulled her down the hall behind him. "What time were they going to unload that ship?"
"I don't know. I'm not even sure which ship he came in on."
"Fuck! How many ships are still out there?"
"Two. Only two.”
****
Bree followed Drew along the path to the resort at breakneck speed. She was mad as hell at him, but now wasn't the time to confront him about his lies. Clearly, he wasn't just a security expert, content to hang out on the Lothario as he'd led her to believe. His orders, thrown at her over his shoulder, confirmed it. "When we get to the resort, get on the satellite phone and contact Sean. Tell him I said ‘muddy water’. He'll know what to do." They rounded the last corner and the resort came into view. "Send the medics and security people to the house. Tell them Cannon is a Federal prisoner, and not to let him out of their sight."
"Where are you going?"
"I've got to find out which ship Cannon came in on." They stopped at one of the cargo containers used for storage. Bree continued on, but halted at Drew's command. "Wait! Come here." Drew opened the lock and threw the doors wide. Bree froze as any doubt about Drew's employment status flew out of her mind.
"You're still in the DIA."
He tossed body armor at her. "Here, put this on." An automatic rifle was next. She caught it and the loaded magazine that followed. "Not still. Again." He tossed her a clear plastic bag filled with nametag-style badges. She stared at it for a moment as reality sunk in. "What do you think Cannon has on that ship?"