In Enemy Hands

by Michelle Perry

  “Just so you guys know, the music’s stopped,” he continued.

  “Go away, Ronnie,” Dante said, smiling down at her.

  “Fine, I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Ronnie grabbed the bowl and wandered off into the crowd.

  Someone fed more money into the jukebox, and they slow danced to another song. Nadia stared up at Dante. He was too quiet, too tense.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He looked away. “Nothing.”

  “I can tell that something’s wrong.”

  He frowned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Yeah, something’s wrong. Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  Nadia’s heart fluttered in her chest. Was he already tired of her? Was he going to tell her he’d made a mistake by staying?

  “Let’s go outside,” she said.

  Ronnie lounged by the door, and she held up a finger, indicating for him to give them a moment. He nodded.

  A slight breeze was blowing, stirring the hot August night, and Nadia slipped her hand inside Dante’s. It gave her little reassurance when he squeezed her fingers.

  When they walked by Waynie’s pickup, Dante surprised her by lifting her up and setting her on the hood.

  He stood between her open knees and rested his palms on the metal on either side of her. Nadia held her breath when he leaned forward.

  He kissed her hard, with a fervor that both shocked and thrilled her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, tugging him closer. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard.

  Dante pressed his forehead to hers, and she raked her fingernails lightly over his scalp. He shuddered, making them both laugh.

  His fingers gently massaged the back of her neck as he asked, “What are you, some kind of witch?”

  Nadia gave a startled laugh. “Well, I guess I’ve been called worse …”

  “I barely know you, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t usually let myself get so … distracted. Must have something to do with those green eyes of yours.”

  Nadia couldn’t stop the idiotic grin that spread across her face at his words. “Yeah, well, just so you know … making out in bar parking lots with big, bald strangers isn’t exactly a habit of mine, either.”

  “I’m not all that strange.”

  “Ah, well. That makes me feel better.” She pulled back to look in his eyes. “I need to talk to you too. I want to ask you …” Nadia hesitated.

  Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest, but she smiled again and stroked his jaw. “I need to know if I can trust you. If you woke up in my bed tomorrow, would you break my heart?”

  Dante abruptly pulled away from her.

  “I can’t do this,” he muttered, and pulled a hand down his face as he paced underneath the pink glow of the neon sign.

  Nadia’s mouth went dry. It took some effort to force the words out. “You can’t do what?”

  A burst of gunfire shattered the night around them.

  Nadia screamed and Dante threw himself at her. He jerked her off the hood into the gravel beside him.

  “Stay down!” he shouted, and grabbed a gun from his calf holster.

  Gunfire peppered around the truck when the bodyguards stationed in the parking lot returned fire.

  Nadia watched in horror when the bar doors burst open. Ronnie and Waynie led the charge. A big red flower appeared on Waynie’s shirt.

  Then he went down.

  “Waynie!” she screamed.

  She started crawling to him. Sharp gravel bit into her palms, nearly slicing them when Dante seized her ankle and yanked her backward.

  “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he demanded.

  “Let go of me. I’ve got to help Waynie.”

  “Waynie would want you to be safe. We’ve got to get out of here.” He yanked open the door to Waynie’s pickup and pushed her inside. “Keep your head down.”

  Dante reached around her, fumbling for the switch. He cursed and Nadia realized the keys were missing.

  “Help them,” she said. “I can do this.”

  Without waiting for his reply, Nadia jerked a handful of wires from underneath the dash. Dante slid out of the cab and she heard the report from his weapon when he moved around the side of the truck.

  She worked fast. Red, purple, green. The wires sparked and the engine roared to life. She scooted behind the wheel when she heard Dante fumble with the passenger side door. Dante threw himself in the seat and Nadia stomped the accelerator, sending up a spray of gravel when they rocketed past the neon sign.

  “How did you do that?” Dante asked. He ejected an empty clip onto the floorboard and reloaded.

  “You’d be surprised at the things I can do,” Nadia said absently, checking the rearview mirror.

  A pair of headlights swung out of Charlie’s parking lot, but she had the jump on them. She tromped on the gas. The needle on the speedometer hit 90, and the little truck began to shimmy.

  “I bet. But I know hotwiring cars. It’s not like the movies, not that quick of a process. How did you know which wires?”

  “You’re assuming I haven’t hotwired this truck before,” she said. “Waynie …” Sudden tears stung her eyes, and she couldn’t finish her sentence.

  Dante’s voice was soft, concerned. “I’ve got my phone. Do you have Ronnie’s cell number?”

  Nadia nodded and blinked back tears. Now was no time to cry.

  She rattled the number off to Dante. Her mind was racing. She had to shake their pursuers. Nadia almost missed the turnoff before she realized where she wanted to go.

  Wheeler Town. That would be perfect. She twisted the wheel and shot down the narrow back road.

  “Ronnie? Hey!”

  Dante grunted when she threw him against the dash. He dropped the phone and pawed around the floorboard for it. “Yeah, I’m still here, and we’re both okay. It’s only Nadia’s driving.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Waynie said you’d better not wreck his truck.”

  “Oh!” Nadia’s breath left her in a rush. She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Waynie’s alive?”

  “Yeah, but we won’t be if you don’t put both hands back on the wheel. Ronnie wants to know where we’re going.”

  “Hold the phone up here so I can talk to him.”

  Dante obediently held the phone to her head.

  “Thanks,” she murmured. “Ronnie, are you there?”

  “Nadia, where you headed?” he asked. “Don’t say road names over the cell.”

  Nadia tried to think. “Do you remember where we hid from the state trooper that time—”

  “That’s not far enough. You have to go much farther. Two of the cars behind you are not friendlies. Drive out of town. You know where Henderson wrecked his motorcycle? Go at least that far. Give us a chance to take care of these guys.”

  “Okay. Got it.”

  “Call me back in fifteen.” Ronnie paused. There was a catch in his voice when he said, “Take care, little sister.”

  Nadia’s throat ached with the emotion caught there. “You too.”

  She nodded at Dante, who clicked the phone shut.

  “Hotwiring trucks, outrunning state troopers … what kind of delinquent are you?” he asked, twisting around to face her.

  She appreciated his effort to make her smile, and tried to hold up her end of the conversation. “Waynie’s always losing his keys. As for the state trooper … well, I’ll put it like this … if I get one more speeding ticket, my driver’s license will make a very interesting coaster.”

  Nadia no longer saw headlights in her mirror, but she took another detour, just in case. The narrow road was cratered with potholes. Dante muttered something when she crashed through one of them and made him bang his head on the back glass. Nadia tried in vain to hide her smile.

  “What’s so funny?” he demanded, rubbing his head.

  “Nothing.” She glanced in the rearview mirror. “Hey, I think we’ve lost them
.”

  She’d been riding these back roads all her life. They’d never find her if she didn’t want to be found.

  Dante’s cell phone rang.

  He flipped it open. “Giovanni.”

  “Is Nadia okay?” Gary Vandergriff’s anxious voice asked.

  “She’s fine.”

  “Who is it, Dante?” Nadia asked.

  Holding up his hand, he indicated for her to wait. He turned his head, ignoring the impatient look she shot him.

  “Are you bringing her to me?” Vandergriff asked.

  The more Dante thought about the situation, the more he realized he had no choice. Nadia would be furious, but Nick couldn’t keep her safe. Twice in a matter of days, his men had been outgunned. Dante had to do what was best for her, even if she hated him for it.

  “Yeah,” he told Vandergriff. “Where do we go?”

  “To my place on Rock Island, where you and I met before. Do you remember how get back there?”

  “No problem.”

  “Wait! Do you need back-up?”

  “No, we’ve got it covered.”

  Dante clicked the phone shut, switching the ringer off as he did. He looked at Nadia. “Change of plans.”

  “Who was that?” she asked, glancing at him.

  Dante couldn’t meet her eyes. He stared out the window as he shoved the phone back into his pocket. “Your father,” he said. “He’s afraid it’s not safe for you at home. He wants me to take you somewhere until things settle down.”

  “Oooh, you and me? Alone?” Nadia laughed. “Looks like my luck’s changing for the better.”

  Dante chuckled, but he was troubled. He didn’t like lying to her.

  “Which way are we going?” Nadia asked as they drove out of the city limits.

  “McMinnville.”

  “Wish I’d known that before. We’re going off the wrong side of the mountain. But it’s no big deal. I’ll go this way and catch the interstate to Tullahoma. A little out of the way, but it’ll be better than driving back through the middle of town.”

  During the next half hour, Nadia made several attempts at conversation, but Dante couldn’t keep up his end. He was sick inside, nervous.

  All over one lie.

  It was crazy. In his line of work, he told lots of lies. So many, in fact, that sometimes it was hard to remember what was real and what was fantasy.

  He shook his head, tried to clear his thoughts. This was different. He was doing this for Nadia. To keep her safe.

  So, why did it feel like a betrayal?

  He didn’t know what Nadia knew about her father or what she didn’t, but the fact was that—in a matter of minutes now—the life Nadia knew would be changed forever. He had seen the bond between her and Nick Branson. If she didn’t already know Gary Vandergriff was her real father, she could be crushed.

  “What’s wrong?” Nadia’s voice was quiet. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  Dante sighed. “I’m thinking it was too close. Thinking I’m really lucky you’re not dead right now. It was stupid, to have you out in the open back there.”

  “We’re okay,” she said. “Stop beating yourself up. It was my fault we were out there.” She gave him a lopsided grin and said, “How’s that old saying go, only the good die young? I think both of us are probably safe.”

  Dante reached underneath her hair and gently rubbed the nape of her neck. “That’s all I want, Nadia, for you to be safe.”

  “Before the shooting started, you said you couldn’t do this. What did you mean?” she asked.

  Indecision tore at him. He’d come close to spilling the whole story in the parking lot—the real story—and he wanted to now, but he didn’t know how Nadia would react to the news. Better to just stick to the plan and deliver her to her father. Maybe after he had a chance to explain, she could forgive him.

  “It’s about your father,” he said. “When Nick hired me, he had a condition to my employment. I’m supposed to keep my hands off you.”

  She blinked, and turned to him with wide eyes. “He did what?”

  “He didn’t think I was the right guy for you.”

  “It’s not his choice to make,” she said finally. The shock faded from her voice, replaced by fury. She violently shifted gears.

  Dante shrugged. “I’ve been through it before. Not too many daddies are happy to have a guy like me hanging around with their little girls.”

  “I told you before, I’m no little girl. If Nick thinks he can treat me like one, he’s crazy.” She gave him a suspicious glance. “You’re not going to listen to him, are you?”

  Dante smiled. “You mean like I’ve listened so far? Baby, you’re like gravity or something. How am I supposed to stay away from you?”

  Nadia’s frown relaxed, and she actually smiled. Shaking her head, she said, “If he fires you, I’ll move out. I’ve wanted to since I was eighteen, but I never pushed it. He’s not going to tell me who I can and can’t see.”

  Dante touched her neck, and realized Nick was right. Nadia had no business with a guy like him. No way around it, she was going to be hurt. She would hate his guts.

  He smoothed her hair. They were almost there and he couldn’t keep his hands off her. After tonight, Nadia would probably never allow him to touch her again.

  “Turn left there, at the Lyons Ferry Dock sign.”

  Nadia peered out the window, staring out over the silvery, moonlit river and the huge, rocky crags surrounding it.

  “I didn’t know Nick had a place here or I would’ve come sooner,” she said. “We used to come here sometimes when I was a kid. There’s a swinging bridge over at the state park, a treacherous looking thing. I used to stand in the middle of it and make it shimmy. Nick would nearly have a stroke, convinced I was going to fall into the gulf below.”

  Dante managed a faint smile at the image. “I imagine you were hell on wheels when you were a kid.”

  “A brat,” Nadia confirmed, pulling into the launch area.

  Dante squinted at the dock. The hulking shapes of two men standing on the ramp materialized from the shadows.

  Dante fought the urge to tell Nadia to turn around and drive away. To leave before her faith in him was destroyed. Instead, he unhooked the wires to shut off the engine and kissed her.

  Holding her in his arms and breathing in the sweet scent of her, he felt his heart break. How would she feel about him when she came face to face with her real father?

  “What was that for?” she murmured against his throat.

  Dante swallowed hard. “I thought I told you already. I like to kiss you.”

  “That didn’t feel like an ordinary kiss.” Nadia’s fingers splayed over his cheek as she stared into his eyes.

  She was stunning in the moonlight, a creature too beautiful to exist even in dreams, and already part of him was dying.

  “Good,” he said, his mouth dry. “Because I don’t want you to think my kisses are ordinary.”

  Nadia frowned and reached for the door handle. Her eyes searched his again before she opened the door. Her voice was so soft he thought he might have imagined it when she said, “It felt … like goodbye.”

  August 7

  12:10 a.m.

  Dante shivered as he helped Nadia slip on an orange lifejacket. His sudden chill had nothing to do with the warm summer night. He fought against the anxiety rising in him, not trusting the instincts that had served him so well in the past because he knew what scared him.

  He was afraid of losing her.

  His hands shook when he clicked her safety straps closed.

  The wind picked up, and the boat ride was a choppy one. Dante and Nadia shared a seat on the little fishing boat, and he twisted his hand in the straps on the back of her lifejacket to keep her from bouncing over the side.

  “What river is this?” he asked, not really caring, but trying to keep from thinking about the confrontation to come.

  “It’s the junction of the Collins River and the
Caney Fork. Good walleye fishing in the spring,” the man beside them answered.

  The other man had yet to say a word. He simply watched them with a blank expression on his face.

  The river was nearly deserted at this hour. In the fifteen minute ride to Vandergriff’s house, Dante only saw one other craft. A couple of old men in an aluminum boat were fishing under a bridge, and one of them lifted a hand in greeting when they passed.

  Dante returned his wave and tried to ignore the heart that threatened to beat its way out of his chest. Finally, they arrived at the private dock.

  While one of the men tied off the boat, Dante hopped onto the swaying wooden structure and reached for Nadia’s hand. The fingers that slipped inside his were cold, and he wondered if she’d caught some of the anxiety that rolled off him.

  A set of handmade wooden steps snaked their way up the side of the bluff. Nadia wordlessly released his hand and started up.

  Wild honeysuckle grew in clusters around the bank, perfuming the night air. It was usually a scent Dante liked, but tonight it was cloying, almost overpowering. He was sweating and almost nauseous by the time they reached the top. Nadia stopped to stare at the house before her.

  “This is my father’s place?” she asked. Her voice sounded funny, tight. Maybe even scared.

  “Yes,” was all Dante could say.

  Two armed guards stood on the front lawn. They stepped aside when they recognized their comrades. Dante placed a steadying hand on the small of Nadia’s back as they stepped onto the sprawling porch.

  This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong.

  The words screamed in Dante’s head, and once again he had to resist the urge to grab Nadia and bolt.

  The porch lights came on and the front door swung open. Dante shielded his eyes and blinked at the uniformed servant standing in front of them.

  “Mr. Giovanni, Ms. Branson. Won’t you please follow me?”

  The servant turned on his heel and started walking. The men behind them crowded in closer and he and Nadia had no choice but to move forward.

  Nadia glanced back at him with a troubled look on her face, then walked on ahead. The heels of her boots made a soft clacking sound on the gleaming oak floor, and all around them hung the scent of lemon cleanser. Dante watched her body stiffen when she scanned the room.