Hell on Heels

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by Carla Cassidy


  Wait for what? Wait for the realization that he’d just given up a huge amount of cash to a man who didn’t intend to release anyone? Wait for word to trickle outside that the American woman had been beaten to a pulp and raped by every man in the station?

  Damn it. Instead of getting on that plane with her, he should have locked her in her house when he’d seen the ticket to Mexico on her kitchen counter. If he’d done that then they wouldn’t have made love, she would have hated him forever, but at least she would have been safe.

  A trickle of sweat worked down his spine. Hell, what did she know about surviving in jail? She probably couldn’t even survive a night in a budget motel. And with that smart mouth of hers she’d be eaten alive by real criminals.

  His heart was a tight ball of pressure, so tight he found breathing difficult. The last time he’d felt like this he’d been sitting in a hospital waiting room, waiting to see if his brother would survive the gunshot wounds from a robbery.

  At that time his heart had felt the same way, as if it had turned to a block of concrete too heavy for his chest to bear.

  How had this happened? He’d vowed to himself in those two days with Seth that he’d never, ever feel that way again, that he’d never, ever allow anyone to get close enough that he would care.

  So, how had it happened that he now stood in the hot Mexican sun, worrying about a woman he’d hardly known a week before?

  With each minute that ticked by, his fear increased. Maybe the capitan had no intention of releasing her. The moment the capitan had slid the envelope of money into his desk drawer, Luke had thought they’d reached a gentleman’s agreement. But, how in the hell was he to know if the capitan was a gentleman? A gentleman who could be bribed? Now that was a contradiction in terms, he thought worriedly.

  He was just about to storm inside once again when the front door of the building opened and Chantal stepped outside, the sunshine sparkling on her hair.

  His heart crashed to his feet at the sight of her.

  She no longer wore the red dress that she’d been wearing when she’d been taken into custody. Nor did she have on her killer high heels. She was clad in a long black skirt with multicolored embroidery around the hemline, and a peasant blouse that looked about three sizes too big. Cheap black flip-flops adorned her feet.

  Why didn’t she have on her own clothes? What had happened to her in there? He’d believed he couldn’t get any sicker than he already was, but as he thought of all the reasons why she wouldn’t be wearing her own clothing, a new wave of sickness swept over him.

  The second thing he saw as she drew closer were scratches down one of her cheeks.

  He was enraged at her for not running when he’d told her to, for not letting him go to jail instead of her. He was enraged at the authorities, who would allow heinous behavior in the confines of a jail cell.

  He didn’t wait for her to reach him, but rather raced toward her and met her halfway. Without saying a word he reached for her and pulled her tight against him.

  His pain was too great for words. His fear for her kept him silent. At least she was alive. For a long moment she leaned into him and he could feel the beating of her heart against his.

  But he couldn’t hold on to her forever and reluctantly he dropped his arms from around her and stepped back. To his surprise her eyes were clear and sparkling with their usual life and humor. The tight pressure in his chest eased somewhat.

  “How’d you get me out of there?” she asked as together they walked toward the Jeep.

  “I greased a few palms and did a lot of double-talking,” he replied. “What happened to your face?” Again tension balled in his chest, making it difficult for him to draw a deep breath.

  She reached a hand up and touched the scratches. “It’s nothing, just a little misunderstanding with one of my fellow inmates.”

  “Where are your clothes? Why are you dressed in those things?”

  “Me and my girls did some bartering.”

  “You and your girls?” They stopped at the back of the Jeep and he stared at her.

  “Me and my new hooker girlfriends. I’ve spent the last ten hours French-braiding hair, giving beauty advice and bartering my clothes and shoes for a cot and extra food.”

  He stared at her in disbelief. He’d had the worst night of his life worrying about her and she’d spent the night giving hookers beauty tips. Thank God. He had definitely underestimated Chantal’s resourcefulness.

  “Are we getting out of here, or what?” she asked.

  “We need to sit tight for a little while and see if anyone else is released.”

  She shot him a sharp gaze. “You think they might release Willowby?” Energy vibrated from her despite the fact he now saw faint smudges of exhaustion beneath her eyes.

  “I don’t know if he’ll be released or not although I told the capitan it would be in everyone’s best interest if they’d allow us to take Willowby back to the States. I explained to him that I didn’t think Tamillo needed a sick twist as one of their citizens.”

  “What did he say?”

  Luke frowned. “Nothing.”

  Chantal leaned against the side of the Jeep, her gaze going from him to the building where she’d spent the night. She moved a hand up to rub her throat.

  “He would have killed me last night. I’d wondered before coming here what he might be capable of, and last night he proved to me that he’s capable of murder.”

  “I figured that out when one of his goons hit me over the head and knocked me cold. I was only out for a minute or two but when I came to the two men were carrying me to the water’s edge. I’m assuming they intended to drown me.”

  He frowned, remembering that moment when he’d come to, the moment he realized Chantal was inside the house without backup. He’d been frantic to get inside to her.

  He shouldn’t be surprised that she’d managed to take care of herself, and he took back every concern he’d had about her working in this business.

  “What happened to the goons?” she asked.

  “I managed to get away from them and took a couple of shots at one. I’m pretty sure I missed him. Anyway, when they heard the sirens they ran like cockroaches at daybreak. That’s when I got inside the house to warn you. You should have listened to me and run.”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t going to leave him, Luke. I told you before, right or wrong, I needed to take responsibility for Willowby.” She frowned and rubbed her forehead. “In any case, it all might have been for nothing as long as we’re out here and Willowby is in there. If we’ve lost him this time we won’t get another chance.”

  Luke threw an arm over her shoulder but said nothing. She was right and she wouldn’t appreciate him giving her platitudes. In fact it would be disrespectful of the honest and open relationship they’d shared to this point.

  “How long do we wait?” she asked softly.

  “As long as you want to,” he replied.

  She leaned against him and they remained like that for several minutes before the door of the building opened and Marcus Willowby limped out into the brilliant morning sunshine.

  Luke dropped his arm from her shoulder, pulled his cuffs from his belt and handed them to Chantal.

  “Go make your collar,” he said.

  If he’d handed her a twenty-karat perfectly cut princess diamond she couldn’t have been happier. Chantal took the cuffs from him and flashed him a grateful smile.

  As she approached Willowby his face twisted into a mask of rage. “Get away from me, you crazy bitch. You crippled me. I’ll have you arrested on assault charges.” He glanced back at the building, as if seeking somebody in authority to come to his aid. But there was nobody around.

  “Shut up, Willowby,” she replied. As she stepped closer to him, he balled his hands into fists, obviously preparing to fight her if necessary. “I’ve got handcuffs, and my partner over there has a gun.”

  She gestured back to Luke, who leaned against the side of
the Jeep, his relaxed posture deceptive. “Nobody is coming to your rescue, Marcus. They let you out of there knowing we were out here waiting for you. You might as well just let me do what I need to do.”

  His eyes shifted from left to right, as if assessing his options. His eyes narrowed as he realized he had none. “This isn’t over,” he said as he held out his hands.

  She cuffed one of his hands then pulled it behind him so he would be handcuffed with his hands behind his back. “Trust me, it’s over,” she replied.

  As she led him to the Jeep a wave of euphoria swept through her. They’d done it. Within hours Willowby would be back in the States to face the justice he’d tried to escape.

  Luke smiled at her as they loaded Willowby in the back seat. “Satisfied?”

  “Not quite,” she replied. “I’m an insatiable kind of woman.”

  “I know.” His gaze lingered on her, suddenly hot and hungry.

  “I’m not talking about that,” she said, surprised to feel her cheeks flame with warmth. “I won’t be satisfied until he’s living in a prison cell and my friend is well and I’ve dealt with Mundy’s boys so I can get my life back.” She looked at her watch. “If we can get clearance to leave the airport quickly then we should be back in Kansas City in time for dinner.”

  An hour later they were seated in the private jet, Willowby cuffed to his chair and Luke and Chantal seated opposite each other at a teakwood table. They had been cleared for takeoff and had begun the taxi to the runway.

  She was conscious of Willowby’s gaze on her and she turned to look at him. He grinned, the smile not remotely pleasant. “Chantal Worthington, bounty hunting.” He shook his head and released a low chuckle. “I’d say I was surprised but I’m not. We’re alike, Chantal. You and me, we’re cut from the same cloth.”

  “Shut up, Willowby,” Luke said, his voice low and ominous.

  “It’s all right, Luke. Let him talk,” she replied.

  Willowby grinned again. “Deep inside, deep in our souls, we’re just alike.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re nothing alike,” she replied.

  Willowby leaned forward as far as the cuffs would allow him and his eyes glittered with a darkness that sent a chill up Chantal’s spine. “People like us, Chantal, there’s nothing we can’t buy, no place we can’t go. Last night you would have killed me. I saw it in your eyes. You’re just like me, Chantal, bored and jaded and looking for the ultimate rush.”

  Suddenly she didn’t want to listen to him as his words found purchase in her soul, in a dark place where she’d wondered why she’d chosen this particular path.

  “That’s enough,” Luke said roughly. “Shut up or I’ll shut you up.”

  Willowby merely smiled, then leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Chantal was aware of Luke’s gaze on her, dark and questioning, but at that moment the engines whined and the jet roared down the runway and took to the sky.

  The flight was a quiet one. Within minutes Luke’s eyes drifted closed and Chantal was left alone with her thoughts, which were unsettling at best.

  She’d had no sleep the night before and now felt the drain of any lingering adrenaline and heard Willowby’s final words echoing in her ears.

  She’d wondered what had driven him to commit his crimes. Was it possible that it had been nothing more than a need for a kick? Was it possible he’d been handed so much, things had been so incredibly easy for him that he’d had to resort to raping women to feel truly alive?

  Was it possible she had become as jaded as him? Had been given too much too soon and had been drawn to the violence, the danger of bounty hunting because life held no real surprises for her anymore?

  She raised a hand to her throat, thinking of those moments when his hands had choked her, when she’d thought death was imminent. Was Willowby right about her? Was it the ultimate thrill of life and death that drew her to this business?

  She turned her attention to Luke. Exhaustion lined his face. Even though she’d been frightened in that jail cell there had been a bit of relief knowing Luke was on the outside and would do whatever he could to get her out.

  The minute she’d stepped out of the building and seen him standing there, she’d been stunned by the frantic worry on his face. When he’d wrapped his arms around her and held her in a near death grip she’d felt the crashing of his heartbeat and knew his night had been every bit as difficult as hers.

  Where did the two of them go from here? She hated to admit it, but Luke had gotten to her as no man had before. For the first time in a very long time she’d met a man who intrigued her, one who promised all kinds of possibilities, and she didn’t know what to expect from him, if anything.

  For all she knew, Luke was finished with her. He’d mixed business with pleasure, but now that their business together was at an end, so was the pleasure.

  He’d certainly given her no indication that he was a man seeking any real, meaningful relationship. In fact, he’d intimated just the opposite. He’d told her more than once that when he felt somebody getting too close he packed up and left the area.

  She leaned her head back against the seat and stared out the window to where nothing was visible but blue sky. She’d known Luke was dangerous to her, had somehow known on some instinctive level that making love with him would complicate her emotions where he was concerned.

  She sighed and once again looked at Willowby. He was awake and gazed at her with an unblinking stare and a small curve to his lips.

  Despite what he faced when he got back to the States, he looked smug, as if he knew his words had bothered her and was delighted with that fact.

  She returned his smile with a smug one of her own and thought of how Belinda would react to the news that the man who had raped her was now in custody.

  Luke had made her recognize that getting Willowby into custody wouldn’t magically fix Belinda’s life. He’d also made Chantal realize that it wasn’t her fault that Belinda had been raped. She’d carried the weight of that guilt around for a very long time, but now felt its absence in her heart.

  We got him, girlfriend, she thought. He’ll never have the opportunity to rape another woman. He was going to spend a very long time in jail and pretty boys like Marcus Willowby didn’t have an easy time behind bars. In all probability he’d learn the horrors of rape firsthand.

  It was at that moment that she realized how to solve her problem with Mundy and the bounty on her head.

  It was dusk when Chantal and Luke left the police station in downtown Kansas City. The transfer of their prisoner had been smooth and without fanfare.

  Chantal and Luke had encouraged the authorities to keep their names out of the press and the authorities were all too eager to take credit for the bust.

  Chantal had arranged for a private car to be waiting at the Kansas City International Airport when they’d landed. It had taken them less than half an hour to clear customs and then they’d gone directly to the police station.

  The hot night air wrapped around her and she was suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion. It had been over twenty-four hours since she’d slept and the adrenaline that had kept her functioning ebbed away, leaving her beyond tired.

  “I guess that’s it,” she said as they stood on the sidewalk just outside the building. “This partnership is now officially over.”

  His features were inscrutable in the dying light of day. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.” He gestured toward the lot where she was surprised to see his truck parked.

  “How did you manage that?” she asked.

  “I had a friend drop it off for me while we were inside getting Willowby squared away. I had him transfer our luggage from the car to the truck. I didn’t know how long we’d be tied up inside and figured it was better if I had my own wheels.”

  A moment later she sank onto the passenger seat and tried to ignore the fact that the interior of the truck smelled like Luke, a clean, masculine scent she’d come to love.

  Fun
ny, that she should feel euphoric about Willowby being in custody, yet oddly disappointed that the whole adventure was now behind her, oddly disappointed that she had a feeling that now they were back in the States it would be business as usual between her and Luke.

  She mentally shook herself. Of course things would go back to business as usual. They were competitors, not lovers and she was certain all she was feeling at the moment was the result of too little sleep.

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as Luke got into the truck and started the engine. “It’s always a come-down, isn’t it?” he said.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. “I guess with the success of a collar comes the crash of the fall. And, of course, it doesn’t help that I spent last night in a jail cell afraid to close my eyes.”

  “If it’s any consolation at all, I didn’t close my eyes while you were in that jail cell.”

  She smiled. “I didn’t really thank you for getting me out of there. Whatever bribe you had to make, I’ll gladly reimburse you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. What kind of a man would I be if I left my partner to fend on her own? While we were in the police station I found out some other information you might find interesting.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The two punks who tried to shoot you at Danny’s pleaded guilty to attempted armed robbery and cut a deal with the DA. They’re both going to serve time so you don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

  “I guess copping a plea to attempted armed robbery is better than being charged with attempted murder.” Again weariness tugged at her. “So, I don’t have to worry about those two but I wonder how many other punks are in Mundy’s little gang?”

  “Maybe you need to talk to the police about getting some protection for a while?”

  “You know as well as I that the police have better things to do with their time. No, I think I’ve got a plan brewing in my mind that will take care of Mundy and any threat he or his friends might have in mind.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” He released a low, dry laugh. “I figured I’d offer even though I know you’re independent and stubborn enough to tell me you can handle it yourself.”

 

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