Chapter Eleven
‡
Darci awoke with a start. At first she thought the storm had woken her, but when she opened her eyes she realized how wrong she was.
There, on his knees, sat Jack. His lip bled and a nasty cut sliced his eyebrow and bled down his temple. His arms were behind his back, a gun aimed at his head. What happened to the bodyguard?
“Oh, God, Jack,” she cried, sitting up. She didn’t get far. A hand gripped her shoulder and pushed her back down. Too late, she remembered her nakedness when the hand slipped down and cupped her breast.
She slapped it away and looked up into Heath’s pale blue eyes.
“What have we here?” he said. “A cozy little tryst? Looks like I got here just in time.”
Darci snatched the blanket from his hands and covered herself, scooting back against the headboard to get away from him. There were three guards with him, but no Eva.
Wind howled outside the balcony doors as the storm raged. They had nowhere to escape. She looked at Jack, saw his eye swelling shut, and her gut clenched.
She glared at Heath. “Let him go.”
Amused, he asked, “And why would I do that?”
“Because it’s not him you want.”
“Darci, no,” Jack said. She flinched when a guard hit him.
Using bravado she didn’t feel, she said, “Let him go and I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Dammit, no!”
Ignoring Jack’s explosive protest, she held Heath’s gaze, not allowing herself a shudder of distaste. She didn’t want to go anywhere with him, but she’d do it for Jack because she knew he’d come after her.
“Oh, you’re coming anyway.”
“You can’t take us anywhere with the storm.”
“I don’t plan on it. We’re going to wait it out here. One big happy family until it’s over.”
At least the storm had bought them some time. Jack would find a way out of this. Until then, she would play along.
“I need to get dressed.”
Heath’s eyes wandered over her from head to toe. Though he couldn’t see anything through the blanket she’d pulled up to her chin, she still felt the urge to cover herself with five more. He didn’t try to disguise his lust and it sickened her.
“If you must.” He stepped back.
She cast a glance at Jack as she climbed off the bed with the blanket wrapped around her. His nod was barely noticeable as she walked over to the dresser and began riffling through drawers. She knew Jack had hidden a spare knife in one of the drawers. She’d thought it overkill, but now she wanted to kiss him for putting it there.
When she found it she carefully slipped it in between her shorts and t-shirt. Her heart pounded a mile a minute and her hands shook, but she managed to carry the stack into the bathroom without anyone noticing.
Once the door closed she let out a long, slow breath and leaned against it before her knees collapsed. Sweat trickled down her back. She’d done it. Snuck Jack’s weapon into the bathroom, but what did she do with it now? She could conceal it, but she had no clue how to use it. And if they kept Jack under guard she’d never be able to slip it to him.
Suddenly her plan didn’t seem so great. She’d have to hold onto it until she could get it to Jack.
After dressing, she brushed her hair into a ponytail then rinsed her face with cold water. She’d chosen a pair of shorts and t-shirt that were anything but loose. Great, now what? She couldn’t hide it under her shirt like Jack did and she couldn’t hide it in her bra. She’d feel a whole lot better knowing they had some protection against these thugs.
Someone pounded on the door and she jumped, hiding the blade behind her back.
“Hurry up in there,” Heath growled through the door.
“I’m coming.” She quickly tucked the knife in the linen closet, covered it with a couple towels and shut the door. Then, after a deep breath, walked out of the bathroom to where Heath waited for her.
Jack now sat in a chair in front of the balcony doors, his hands tied behind his back and a guard posted at his side. Another stood in front of the door and a third sat on the bed flipping through channels with the remote.
Hard to believe they were in a hostage situation. If not for Jack sitting in front of the door trussed up like a Sunday chicken, she’d be hard pressed to believe it. She avoided Jack’s eyes as she moved to the chair beside the bed and sat down. If she looked at him, she wouldn’t be able to stay strong. Just the thought of him hurting made her heart ache.
“So what, we’re going to just sit here until the storm passes?” she asked.
“That’s the plan.”
“Then let me get a washcloth and clean up Jack’s face. You can’t let him sit there and bleed all over the place. Someone will notice.”
Heath’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Jack and then back to her, deciding if he should trust her or not. Personally, she didn’t see herself as a threat, but he did. That gave her the strength to keep going.
“What am I going to do with your goons watching our every move?” she pointed out.
Heath stepped in front of her, blocking her view, and pressed the tip of his weapon to her chest. Forcing her fear down, she lifted her chin and looked him in the eye.
“Tell me why I should let you near him.” His seductive voice made her shudder in disgust. He misunderstood and smiled, sliding the gun across her collarbone. The cold metal chilled her skin, but she didn’t flinch.
“Because, when the manager comes around you don’t want him to see Jack covered in blood.”
“One of my ‘goons’ will do it.”
Darci shrugged, feigning indifference. “Whatever.”
Heath let the gun tease the top of her breast and it took every ounce of strength not to flinch. Her t-shirt served as a barrier against his ministrations, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to run screaming from the room. God, she hated this.
“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.”
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 Twelve
‡
“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.
SEALs of Summer: Military Romance Superbundle - Navy SEAL Style Page 112