by Becca Van
“Don’t be embarrassed, Rach. Sex is a natural part of life. We all do it, just some more than others,” Tyson murmured, a grin on his mouth. He reached down and placed a finger beneath her chin, tilting her face up to his.
Tyson leaned down and kissed her to within an inch of her life. When he was done, he pulled away, a smug look on his face when he released her. He steadied her as she staggered slightly, then turned back to the dining room, leaving her standing in the kitchen staring after him.
“Hey, baby, is that pot of coffee ready yet?” Damon called a minute later.
Rachel picked up the finished pot of coffee and carried it to the dining table. The men practically dove on the pot, each of them filling their mugs, completely ignoring her. Or so it seemed. She grabbed the now-empty pot, pissed at the fact there was no coffee left for her, and stomped her way back over to the kitchen. She went through the same process and had another pot brewing in moments.
“Rach, come over here, baby,” Damon called out to her.
Rachel stomped her way back over to the table, wondering what it was the men needed now. Damon grabbed her around the waist and hauled her onto his lap. He picked up his mug of coffee and brought it up to her lips. She gave a grateful sigh as she sipped from Damon’s mug, sharing the aromatic brew with him as she cuddled up on his lap.
“So are we agreed?” Luke’s voice penetrated into Rachel’s love-hazy mind.
“Yeah,” echoed around the room as the rest of the men answered.
“Good. The sooner this is over, the better. Luke’s friend in Miami is so close to busting things wide open, the head honchos are going to have no place left to turn to,” Damon supplied.
“What are you all talking about?” Rachel asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
“We’re going to set a trap for this bastard after you, baby. Before the week’s over, we should have him and his bosses safe and secure in the slammer,” Damon explained.
“Rachel, we’re going to spend the next couple of hours going over our plans. Sam’s going to order Chinese takeout, so don’t worry about food. We need you to listen carefully, and if you don’t like what we want you to do, tell us. We’ll find another way to get this bastard off your tail. The whole aim is to keep you alive and well, sugar. If you’re willing to do what we want, we want you to have things down pat in your mind so you can do them automatically without having to think. If you don’t think you’re up to it, say so now, sugar,” Tyson said.
“I want to do whatever is necessary so I can be free to live a normal life again. Tell me what to do.”
Chapter Twelve
Rachel was ready to go to Tyson’s hotel before Damon and Sam. She was looking forward to a night out after the day she’d had trying to memorize the plan they had set out as a trap for the next day. She was full of nervous energy and looking forward to getting out of the house. She sat on the living room sofa, her jean-clad legs crossed and one swinging back and forth. She looked up when she heard their steps on the timber floor. God, they were so sexy, with wide shoulders that tapered down to lean hips and muscular thighs.
“Ready to get out of here, baby?” Damon asked, stopping before her and holding a hand out to her.
“Yes. I’m really looking forward to tonight. I’m glad Tyson will have live music and the dance floor has been set up. I hope you boys know how to dance.”
“Well, let’s just hope what you call dancing and what we call dancing are the same thing, darlin’,” Sam said.
“You know what? I don’t care, just as long as we all have fun. Let’s go,” Rachel said as she stood. She kept hold of Damon’s hand and slipped her free one into Sam’s. Nothing had ever felt so right.
* * * *
Rachel sat down at the table Tyson had saved for them and took a sip of her drink. The word had gotten out about the live entertainment, bringing people out for a night of music and dancing. The place was packed. Rachel sat between Damon and Sam, watching as people strutted their stuff on the dance floor. She and Damon had just spent the last two songs dancing and were in need of a drink to cool down.
“What do you think of the entertainment?” Tyson asked in Rachel’s ear so she could hear him.
She turned her head, grinning at him, giving him the thumbs-up, not wanting to have to yell over the noise.
“You look so sexy when you dance, sugar. You nearly had me losing my load as I watched your sexy little ass and hips swaying to the music.”
Rachel couldn’t help but burst out laughing, spraying soda all over the place, including down the front of her shirt. She grimaced as she pulled her wet shirt away from her breasts, but was still smiling as she turned back to Tyson. He was staring down over her shoulder at her breasts. Her shirt had been white, and now that it was soaked, she knew he was getting an eyeful. She stood up, grabbing a handful of paper napkins and smirking at Tyson as he moved back, allowing her room to move. She reached up, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and pulled him until his face was down to her level.
“You are so bad,” Rachel said into Tyson’s ear.
“Yeah, but you love it, don’t ya, sugar? Do you want any help in the ladies’ room, cleaning up?”
“Tyson, if you followed me into the ladies’ restrooms, you would end up with a lot of angry, desperate females pounding on the door to get in. I’ll be fine.”
“Oh, you’re fine, all right, sugar,” Tyson stated with a leer and waggle of his eyebrows. “And you’re right, now isn’t the time or the place. I can’t wait until I can get you home. You’re not gonna come up for breath until we’re done with you, Rach.”
“Is that a warning?”
“Nah, sugar. That’s a promise.” Tyson breathed against her ear, turned around, and went back to serve behind the bar.
Rachel was still smiling when she entered the ladies’ restrooms. She dampened the paper napkins and wiped at her blouse. She knew she was going to have to soak her white shirt, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she tried to get most of the stain out now. She threw away the napkins and grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser. The door opened, and a tall woman entered and closed herself in a cubicle.
“You know that stain is not going to come out, don’t you?” the woman called.
“I know, but I have to try anyway. I’m a bit anal when it comes to my clothes,” Rachel called back.
“Yeah, me, too. Except I would just toss it in the trash, then go out and buy another one.” The woman opened the cubicle and stepped up to the sink. She eyed Rachel and her stained blouse in the mirror as she washed her hands. “Definitely trash if it was my shirt.”
“I think if I soak it long enough the stain will come out,” Rachel said, busy looking at where she was rubbing her shirt. The woman moved closer, but Rachel didn’t look up again, figuring she was studying the stained shirt.
The feel of a prick in her neck had Rachel raising her head in surprise. The blurring sight of the tall female withdrawing an empty syringe from her neck was too much of a shock to comprehend.
“Sorry, honey. Just doing my job.”
Rachel staggered, the effects of the drug working through her system rapidly. She thought her eyes were still open, but she couldn’t see anything. The woman had stopped her from falling to the floor, at least. Rachel was vaguely aware of a male voice close by. Then everything went black.
* * * *
Rachel woke up in a strange, dilapidated room. It was pitch black, but her eyes had adjusted enough for her to see. Her head was throbbing and her mouth was dry, making her tongue feel like it was stuck to the roof of her mouth. She tried to stretch her arms and legs, whimpering with fear when she realized she was tied to the bed she was lying on. She lifted her head, only to slump back down, the pain in her head increasing to unbearable proportions. Her ankles and wrists were tied with rope, secured to the metal rails at the foot and head of the bed. She wasn’t going anywhere.
Rachel was just drifting off to sleep again, but her whol
e body went on alert when she heard a door slam. Footsteps followed, then she heard the squeak of hinges as the door to the room opened. She kept her eyes closed and willed her body to relax, breathing evenly and deeply. If she was going to get out of here alive, she was going to have to keep her wits about her. All of her senses were heightened, since she wasn’t about to use her eyes. She knew there was a male in her temporary room by the heavy steps on the timber floor. The steps came closer and closer, and she concentrated on keeping her body lax, her breathing even, but it was difficult because she could feel his body heat and could hear him breathing. She tried not to cringe when his body bumped against the side of the bed and knew she had been successful when no movement or sound came from him except for his breathing. The sound of his familiar voice rang through her ears, reverberating in her eardrums.
“Why the fuck did you have to be there that day, Rachel? Why did you have to go back? Did you know what was going on? No, you couldn’t have. I’ve been too careful. If it wasn’t for the mob boss breathing down my neck, none of this would have happened. How the hell was I supposed to know my brother-in-law is the head of the drug cartel? I’d get you out of this if I could, but it’s down to either you or me, and I’m too much of a coward. I’m sorry, Rachel,” her ex-boss said.
The touch of his hand on her shoulder made her feel ill. It took everything within her not to react. He withdrew his hand, and she finally relaxed at the sound of his receding footsteps. She heard the door close and a key turn in the lock. She had to find a way to untie herself and get the hell out of here. If what her boss said was true, she was in deeper shit than she could ever have imagined.
* * * *
“Where the fuck is she?” Sam yelled. Damon knew his brothers were just as scared and frustrated as he was.
“She went to the bathroom, Sam,” Tyson replied. “I asked you both to keep an eye out for her. Why the hell didn’t one of you move when she didn’t come back out?”
“Stop it, both of you. She’s gone, and fighting amongst ourselves isn’t going to find her,” Damon stated quietly, trying to be the calm one in the storm of raging fear for their woman. “Now, get yourselves together and start looking for clues.”
“He’s right, you know. You can blame each other, but that isn’t going to bring her back,” an unfamiliar voice bit into the fray.
“Who the fuck, are you?” Sam asked.
Damon turned and saw his brother’s aggressive stance as he stared down the stranger.
“Friend of Luke’s. I’m Britt Delaney, and my brother, Daniel.” Britt indicated the huge man behind him then held his hand out to Sam, then Damon and Tyson. Britt moved aside to allow his brother room to approach.
“You won’t need to look too hard to find your woman,” Daniel said, his deep, gravelly voice breeching the silence.
“What do you mean by that?” Tyson asked.
“I planted a tracking device on her. All I need is to power up this little beauty,” Daniel said, holding up a gadget. Damon looked at the Delaney brothers and then to his own brothers, hope bursting into his heart at the sight of the specialized tracker.
“Then what are you waiting for?” Sam asked.
“We were waiting for you lot to finish blaming each other. We couldn’t have gotten a word in edgewise,” Daniel said, a smile making the scar running the length of his right cheek stand out.
“Then let’s get to it,” Damon stated, indicating they all leave the ladies’ restrooms.
Damon followed Daniel Delaney out when he turned and left, the sight of his large, bulky body moving with no trouble through the crowd a relief to him and his brothers. The crowd seemed to part, no persuasion necessary from the big man. How the hell they hadn’t noticed the two Delaney brothers in Tyson’s pub was beyond his comprehension, but he would be forever grateful. Tyson took the lead when they reached the hallway, leading Damon and everyone else into his office. Damon knew it was better to have this discussion in private where they would be able to hear each other as they planned the extraction of their woman.
Chapter Thirteen
Rachel was so cold her bones were aching. She’d lost feeling in her fingers and toes hours ago, and her bladder was protesting as well. She must have eventually fallen asleep, because the sun was just beginning to rise, light peeking around corners and through the cracks of the worn curtains. She was so thirsty. Her lips felt cracked and dry and her whole body ached, but she was still alive. The squeak of the door hinges alerted her to company. She wanted to pretend to still be unconscious, but the call of nature was impossible to ignore. Her bladder was so full she was in pain. Her eyes flew to the door to land on the face of her ex-boss.
“Ah, good, you’re awake. I was a bit worried when you didn’t wake up in the allotted time. I’m sorry about all of this, Rachel. If I could go back in time and change things I would.”
“What are you going to do to me, Frank? You know you can’t get away with this.”
“Oh, but I already have, sweetheart. I have too many people covering my ass not to succeed. Why did you come back? If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t even be here.”
“I forgot my cell phone.”
“Oh, you mean you had no idea what was going on? It was just a coincidence? You were in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what happened, Frank. So, why did you kill Mark?”
“He’d just found out the Commissioner was in it up to his neck. Mark came to me with his evidence, and being the loyal brother-in-law that I am, I had to let Joel know he’d been found out. Of course, the only way out was the detective’s elimination, and since he worked in our offices and I was the only one aware of what was happening, I was commanded to do the deed.”
“God, Frank. What are you going to do? Kill everyone on the force? You know as well as I do, this thing is going to blow wide open. What are you going to do then?”
“I didn’t have a choice, Rachel. Joel was threatening to terminate my wife.”
“You mean that bastard would actually kill his own sister? Oh God, I’m a dead woman, aren’t I, Frank? Is it you who gets to eliminate me, or is it your angelic brother-in-law?”
“Now, now, don’t go all sarcastic on me, Rachel. It really doesn’t suit you.”
Rachel stared at her ex-boss. Her mind was working at fifty miles an hour, grasping hold of escape scenarios and throwing them to the side. If she could only get him to untie her and leave her alone, she may have a chance at escaping and surviving. The only good thing about being abducted was her men were now out of danger. Hopefully they wouldn’t be able to find her, keeping them safe and alive.
“Listen, Frank, I need to use the bathroom. Can you untie me so I can take care of nature’s call?”
“I suppose there’s no harm in it.”
Frank moved closer to the bed, working on the rope binding her. He untied her hands first. The pain of moving her arms after being confined in one position for so long was excruciating, but she pushed it to the back of her mind, shaking her numb limbs to get the blood flowing again. She watched as Frank moved to her ankles, keeping her body as loose as possible, waiting for the right moment. What surprised her was Frank didn’t even seem to be on alert. Maybe it was the fact she had worked for the man. She felt the binding fall away, tensed her muscles, and kicked out as hard as she could. Her high-heeled boots connected with Frank’s face. The sickening noise of bone crunching was satisfying, and Frank dropped to the ground, out cold. Rachel bounded to her feet, staggering slightly on limbs not wanting to cooperate. She listened intently, moving around Frank’s unconscious body until she reached the door. She hadn’t heard anyone else in the place, but wasn’t taking any chances.
Rachel opened the bedroom door, a crack of light letting her see beyond into the decrepit cabin. The room was totally empty of life, as well as furniture, except for one large armchair. The place was an open-style cabin, for which she was thankful. She could see into every nook and cranny.
She eased the door open, holding her breath as the rusty hinges squeaked in protest, and bolted. She was out the front door of the cabin and running through the trees surrounding the remote, dilapidated structure.
Rachel had no idea where she was, but didn’t care, her only thought getting as far away as possible. She stumbled over tree limbs and rocks, running for her life. Not once did she stop to look back. Tree branches whipped her face and body, but she didn’t feel a thing. Adrenaline gave her the energy she needed to keep going. Her breath came out in panted sobs. Her shirt caught on a limb and ripped, but she still kept going. Rachel had no idea how long or how far she had been running and had no intention of stopping.
Rachel stumbled and fell, going down hard, her palms scraping on rocks, her knees connecting with the hard ground. Her right ankle throbbed like a bitch, and she looked down at her feet. The heel of her boot was hanging off, and that was not what she needed to see right now. She reached down and peeled the leather boots from her feet, biting her lip when her right ankle protested with pain. She ignored it. She stood up on her socked feet, pushed the throbbing pain in her ankle to the back of her mind, and ran.
Rachel came to a ravine. She stopped on the edge, peering down the sheer cliff wall. Her eyes tracked along the sides, looking for a place she could descend and get to the river below. The forest was thick with flora, making it difficult for her to plot a safe course. She gave a sigh of relief when she saw a place where the walls had more rocks, less of a sheer drop, and turned, heading in that direction. She had to walk further away from the edge then double back to where she knew it would be easier to traverse and descend. She stopped when she came to the place she thought would be the most appropriate for her descent. She took a few moments to catch her breath, gathering her strength and determination around her. She was going to need everything she had in her to climb down that rock wall. She was going to completely ignore her fear of heights. She had to. Her life depended upon it.