Texas Ransom

by Amanda Stevens

  After that, Kendall wouldn’t let him look at her again. Whenever he came to visit, she made sure the lights in her room were lowered. Or she would sit in shadows, her face turned away from him.

  After the fourth surgery, Graham had begun to glimpse hints of the old Kendall. By this time they were back in Houston, and the surgeon who performed the procedure was world-renowned for his advancements in reconstructive techniques.

  Once the swelling went down, the result had been amazing. Kendall was never going to be as outwardly beautiful as she’d been before the accident, but her appearance hadn’t mattered to Graham. He’d fallen in love with her all over again, but it had taken a long time to convince her that his feelings were genuine.

  When he’d asked her to renew their vows, she’d been hesitant and wary. “Why do you want to do this?”

  “Because the first time we exchanged vows was for all the wrong reasons. We hurried into something neither of us was ready for, but it’s different now. I want us to make a commitment to each other for the right reasons this time.”

  She closed her eyes. “Are you sure about this? You don’t just…feel sorry for me?”

  “Why would I feel sorry for you? The doctor said you’re on the road to making a full recovery.”

  “My face…”

  “I love your face.”

  “You know something?” She looked deeply into his eyes. “I almost believe you really mean that.”

  “I love you, Kendall. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”

  “Then I’ll marry you,” she said softly. “As many times as you want me to.”

  His family hadn’t been as supportive of the reunion as he’d hoped. His mother and brother had never really warmed up to Kendall, and Graham suspected they’d both been relieved when she left him. News of their reconciliation hadn’t thrilled either of them, but it was Michael’s reaction that surprised Graham the most. He’d seemed almost angry by the news.

  “Don’t do it. You’d be making the second biggest mistake of your life. A woman like that—”

  “A woman like what?” His tone warned Michael to watch what he said.

  Michael sighed. “Look, you’re a good guy, Graham, and you feel obligated to see her through this. I understand that. But let’s face it, you were headed for a divorce before the accident. All the problems you had before are still there. They’ve just been temporarily swept aside.”

  “You’re wrong. We’re not the same people we were before. We’ve both had our eyes opened to what’s really important.”

  “It may seem that way now—”

  “It is that way. I’m in love with her, Michael. I don’t understand why you and everyone else can’t be happy for us.”

  Michael hesitated, as if on the verge of arguing further. Then he shrugged and looked away. “Hey, if this is really what you want, then you have my blessing. I’ll even give the bride away. Better yet, I’ll host the party at my place.”

  The complete one-eighty took Graham by surprise. “You don’t have to go that far.”

  “If you’re going to do this, then I want to be a part of it. I’ve got a great big house with a gorgeous garden and no one to enjoy it. I’ve been thinking about putting it on the market. Trish is the one who wanted that place. Now that she’s moved out…” He shrugged again and changed the subject.

  Like Terrence and Ellie, Michael and his ex-wife, Trish, had been high-school sweethearts. They’d always seemed so much in love, the perfect couple, so it was a shock to Graham when they separated and quickly divorced while he was in L.A.

  Michael never volunteered the reason behind the breakup and Graham hadn’t pushed. At the time, he’d had his own messy personal life to worry about. But he wondered if Michael’s disappointment in his own failed marriage contributed to his reservations over Graham and Kendall’s reconciliation.

  The phone on the nightstand rang, dragging him back to the present, and Graham reached for it, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Check your e-mail, Mr. Hollister.”

  “Wait—”

  But the caller had already hung up.

  Graham got up and went into the hallway, calling out to Jones as he hurried into his office. The agent followed a moment later.

  “A call came in,” Graham said. “He told me to check my e-mail. Then he hung up.”

  Graham was seated behind his desk and he quickly logged onto his e-mail account. He scrolled down the list until he found the subject line he wanted: Kendall.

  His hand was clammy on the mouse as he opened the e-mail. Inside he clicked on a hyperlink that took him to a live Webcam site with streaming video.

  At first, he didn’t know what he was looking at. The feed was grainy and the room in which the camera was mounted almost completely dark. Then suddenly a light came on, and Graham saw a woman lying on a narrow cot that was shoved up against one wall. Her back was to the camera, but he knew it was Kendall.

  He sucked in a sharp breath, the pain in his chest as sharp as a knife thrust.

  As he watched, she rolled over and sat up, her gaze on something across the room that Graham couldn’t see. From her expression and the direction of her gaze, he thought someone must have come into the room. He even thought he saw her lips move, but there was no audio and the feed was too poor to be sure.

  Slowly, her head turned toward the camera, and for just a split second, he caught a glimpse of her face. She still had on the red dress she’d worn to the reception, but her shoes were missing. She looked scared to death as she wrapped her arms around her middle and turned away from the camera.

  As he continued to watch, she jumped and cringed, as if a loud noise had startled her, and then a moment later, a man came into view. Graham saw nothing but his back, but he could tell the newcomer was large with thick, black hair curling over the collar of his shirt.

  He reached down and jerked Kendall to her feet. Her eyes went wide with fear as her hand flew up to her face. But she was too late to fend off the blow. He struck her hard with the back of his hand and she stumbled back. Her legs buckled and she sprawled onto the cot, cowering away from her attacker.

  Still keeping his back to the camera, the man disappeared. Kendall curled her knees into her chest as one hand cradled her wounded cheek. Graham couldn’t see her face. He had no idea how badly she was hurt.

  All he knew was how much he wanted to kill the son of a bitch who had hit her.

  His hands tightened into fists.

  He’d never thought of himself as a violent man, but at that moment he had no doubt he could easily take a life without one iota of remorse.

  He swore viciously into the silence.

  “Take it easy,” Jones warned him. “That’s exactly the reaction they want from you. They’re trying to keep you off guard and vulnerable.”

  Graham glanced away, trying to compose his emotions. He was holding onto his control by a thread. He needed to hit something. Anything. He needed to assuage the murderous rage spiraling through him before he did something he’d live to regret.

  “I know it’s hard to watch something like that,” Jones said, “but he didn’t really hurt her. Focus on that. She actually looks in much better shape than I’d expected.”

  Graham barely heard him. His eyes remained glued to the screen. He kept hoping that Kendall would turn back to the camera so that he could know she was okay. The brief glimpse he’d had of her face wasn’t enough. But she remained exactly where she was, and a moment later, they lost the feed.

  Even after the screen went blank, Graham couldn’t tear his gaze away. He couldn’t move. His senses were shutting down and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the computer screen.

  “See if you can get the feed back,” the agent coaxed.

  Graham hit the link again, but it was dead.

  The feed was gone.

  Graham didn’t know how long he’d been staring at the screen
when Jones finally said, “We’ve got some work to do. My guess is they’re going through a router, probably more than one, but we need to find out for sure.”

  Slowly Graham stood and let the agent have his place in front of the computer. Jones was already on the phone, and Graham listened for a moment before he turned and left the office.

  He walked down the hallway, out the newly repaired French doors and sat down at the wrought-iron table in the courtyard. The sky glowed faintly on the horizon, and a gray light settled like mist over the landscape. He could smell the jasmine and honeysuckle that spilled over the walls of the courtyard, and the scent filled him with a terrible longing.

  He wanted to turn back the clock. Just twenty-four hours ago, he’d been on top of the world. Secure in his marriage, happy in his career. A man who wanted for nothing.

  And now, one day later, everything had changed. He had changed. Just a few short hours ago, he would never have thought himself capable of taking a life, and yet he knew that he could do so now without a second thought. It wasn’t hard to imagine his hands wrapped around the thick neck of the man who had struck Kendall, squeezing and squeezing until the last breath of life had been forced from the man’s lungs.

  Esteban had warned him that life as he knew it was over. Graham understood that now. No matter the outcome, there would be no going back to the way things were before, to the man he’d once been. That was all gone.

  And if it took him the rest of his life, he would hunt down Gabriel Esteban and make him pay for what he had done.

  SOMEHOW Kendall had managed to doze off. Her eyes snapped open, though, as the door opened with a creak, and she drew herself up, cringing in anticipation of what was to come.

  At this point, she had no idea how long she’d been locked up. It seemed like days, but she knew that it had only been a matter of hours. After she’d gotten into the van with Hector Reyes, she’d been driven out of the city to a small, clandestine landing strip used, she imagined, in the drug trade.

  She’d been blindfolded, handcuffed and transferred to a private plane that had taken off moments later. She had no idea who else was on board besides the pilot. No one said anything. She tried to calculate the direction and flying time, but the blindfold disoriented her and her fear made it impossible to concentrate.

  Finally, they’d landed and she’d been put in the back of a car. A short while later, she’d been shoved into this small, damp room. Only then had the cuffs and blindfold been removed, and she’d been left alone in the dark with only her outstretched hands to guide her around the cramped space.

  They’d taken her shoes and the first thing she noticed was the rough texture of the floor. It felt like an old concrete slab that had chipped and cracked over the years. The walls were cinder block, the only furnishing, a single cot placed against one wall.

  Earlier, when the light had come on briefly, she’d had a better look and noticed with relief that the room had a sink and toilet behind a tattered curtain. The fixtures were old and worn, but fairly clean.

  A camera had been mounted on one of the walls. Kendall had been instructed to look straight up at the lens, to turn her head so that the bruises on her face could be seen. That was when she knew that Graham must have been watching, so that he could see what they’d done to her. That was why she’d refused to do as they asked. She didn’t want him seeing her like this.

  The man had struck her again, not because of her refusal, but because they wanted Graham to witness their brutality firsthand. They wanted his imagination to run wild, wanted to shake him up so badly he’d do whatever they asked of him.

  And now someone had come back to the room, and Kendall shivered, remembering the way the man earlier had looked at her. She still wore the dress she’d had on at the reception, and she felt exposed and vulnerable. She wished she could cover up, but there were no linens on the cot. Just a thin, worn mattress that had seen only God knew what kind of use.

  As the door opened, weak sunlight filtered into the room and Kendall blinked. It was morning. The first day of her captivity.

  Her gaze was riveted to the opening, not in anticipation of who would step through, but because the sunshine was like a beacon, a ray of hope. Graham had said on the phone that he would find a way to get them out of this mess. Somehow he would come for her and everything would be okay. They could go back to their lives, go back to their dreams and happiness. Kendall desperately needed to believe that.

  But a part of her already knew that her old life—her new old life—was gone forever. The secrets and lies had finally caught up with her.

  A young woman entered the door carrying a tray. She walked quickly across the room, head down, and placed the tray on the floor near the cot. Then she started to back away.

  “No, wait!” Kendall got up off the cot. “Tell me where I am. What’s going to happen to me?”

  The woman’s head lifted and Kendall gasped. “I know you. Your name is Maria. You’re Hector’s sister.”

  The woman’s gaze shot to the door, then she said softly in Spanish, “Por favor. Just do as they say. You won’t be harmed.”

  Her gentle voice sent a thrill of hope through Kendall. “Please,” she whispered. “Can you help me get out of here?”

  The woman opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment the room grew dark again as someone moved into the doorway. He was so large that every inch of sunlight was blocked.

  The young woman quickly shook her head and put her fingertip to her lips.

  When he stepped inside, the trapped sunlight spilled into the room behind him, backlighting him in a way that kept his face in shadows. Kendall had only a glimpse of his features, but that was enough. She knew where she was now, and the dread in her chest turned to bile in her throat. She wanted to scream, but it would be pointless because no one would hear her. No one would help her. She was now at Leo Kittering’s mercy. Just the way he had planned it.

  “Leave us!” he said to Maria.

  She scurried out of the room without a backward glance.

  Kendall sensed more than saw Kittering’s smile. “It’s been a long time.”

  She said nothing.

  “Do you remember me?”

  “Yes.”

  As he moved inside, Kendall saw him more clearly now. In the five years since they’d come face to face, he’d aged. He had to be well into his sixties, and the extra weight added even more years. His hair had gone completely gray, and he wore it combed back, highlighting the deep crevices in his forehead. The lower part of his face was hidden by a thick beard and mustache, also gray.

  “You’ve changed,” he said.

  “So have you.”

  He smiled again. “The ravages of age, I’m afraid, but you…” He rested both hands on the silver head of his cane as he stood staring down at her. “The difference is remarkable. I’m not sure I would have recognized you.” He cocked his head, studying her. “I’ve seen photos, of course, but it’s still a shock. Graham Hollister…what does he think of the way you look?”

  Kendall wanted to tell him that Graham would love her no matter what, that nothing Kittering could do would tear them apart. But she knew that wasn’t true. Graham was decent and caring, but no man could forgive what she’d done.

  She looked down at her hands. Her once-manicured nails were chipped and dirty, and she thought them symbolic of her downfall. “Why are you doing this? Why couldn’t you let us live in peace?”

  Kittering’s laugh was harsh. “The way you let my son live in peace? The question you should be asking is…why did I wait so long?”

  “Why did you?”

  “Timing is everything, as they say. Five years ago, I wanted you dead. Nothing would have pleased me more than finding your charred corpse in the wreckage at the bottom of that cliff. But…you survived somehow. You were a lot stronger than I gave you credit for and far more clever. You not only survived your injuries but you thrived.” He shifted his weight, as if accommodating a pain
ful leg or knee. “Oh, I could have ended it all, of course, at any time I wanted. Paid off a doctor to botch a surgery, a nurse to give you the wrong medication. Or I could have sent someone to your room to cut your throat while you slept. So very tempting,” he said with a smile.

  “But I soon came to see the merit of waiting until you made a full recovery, until everything in your life was perfect—the perfect husband, the perfect house, the perfect life…even a perfect new face—before I took everything from you. It hurts so much more that way, doesn’t it? When you have so much to lose? That’s what I call the perfect justice.”

  “This is not justice. This is nothing but revenge.” Kendall was terrified, but she would not have him see her cower in fear. “After all the lives you’ve destroyed with your filthy business, don’t you dare talk to me about justice.”

  “And after what you did to my son, don’t you dare talk to me about vengeance.” His gaze raked over her in the dim light. “I would have thought your current predicament would have curbed your tongue, but I can see that I was wrong. You may look like a different person, but underneath that plastic surface, you’re still the same cold-hearted bitch who murdered my son.”

  “It was self defense. Deep down, you must know that.”

  “How convenient that you’re the only one left alive to tell the story. But you’re forgetting something. I knew my son. He was my heart and soul. When you killed him, you took everything from me.”

  Kendall tried to stay calm. She told herself she had to reason with him, try to reach him somehow and make him see her side of it. She hadn’t murdered his son in cold blood. She’d defended herself from the cruel, selfish monster Leo Kittering had created. But he would never see it that way. He would never accept who his son really was.

  “Nothing you do will bring him back.” She was ashamed of the tremor in her voice. She had faced Leo Kittering before and done so without an ounce of fear. But he was right. Things changed when you had so much to lose.

  “Nothing will bring my son back, but watching you suffer will bring me a great deal of satisfaction,” he said. “Your destruction is the only thing left for me to care about. It’s the only thing I’ve lived for since L.J.’s death.”