The Safe Bet
Page 20
She couldn’t fight back the tears any longer. They rushed free over her face. He moved his thumb across her lips.
“Don’t cry,” he said and cradled her head against his chest. “Please, don’t cry.”
*
“Answer your phone.” Michael slammed his cell phone down on the couch and rubbed his temples. He had called Jake five times in the last five minutes, with no answer.
He glanced over at the bedroom. The door was shut, and he assumed Kate was still resting. He’d burdened her with his past, and she’d broken down as a result. He should never have opened his mouth given what she was going through right now.
Stupid.
She’d need to eat at some point, though. His cabin had coffee and granola bars, and that was it. He couldn’t risk going to the store, and he hated the idea of having a delivery man come to the house, but he had no choice.
He grabbed his phone and ordered a pizza online. After, he dialed Connor.
“Hey, man.”
“Shit, Connor. What’s going on? I can’t get hold of Jake. Is everything okay?” He ruffled his hair and walked into the small kitchen.
“Yeah. Jake’s working on some leads. He knows that if he talks to you, you’ll just flip out, which you have every right to do.”
“Where are you guys? My place?” He tried to keep his anger in check, at least for the moment.
“We’re close to you, actually. We’re staying at a hotel in Cornelius. Jake thought we should be nearby.”
Michael was quiet for a moment. “Is Jake still using Kate as bait?” He pressed his hand on the counter, trying to steady himself.
“No,” Connor said after what felt like too long. “He wants to keep a close eye on you and Kate. Give you some back-up.”
For some reason, Michael didn’t believe him. “Tell Jake to call me.”
He turned around when he heard the bedroom door open and ended the call, shoving the phone into his pocket.
“Something wrong?” she asked with a soft voice.
“Jake’s ducking my calls. Afraid of me, I guess.”
She gave him a weak smile and rubbed her arms as if a chill had snuck up on her. She was wearing some of his sister’s clothes—skin tight white jeans and a white T-shirt with no bra. Julia used the cabin every so often and had a few things stored there.
“I ordered pizza,” he said while scratching the back of his neck, trying to look away from her nipples, which were poking against the thin material of the shirt. This wasn’t the time or place to be getting a damn erection. Jesus.
She nodded and took a seat on the couch, clasping her hands on her lap. “I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat. It’s getting late, and all you’ve had is coffee.”
“That’s not true. We split the granola bar you found in your cabinet earlier.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not enough.” He came up next to her and sat down and reached out for her hand. Her fingers were freezing, and her hand was shaking a little. “Let me grab you a blanket.”
“I’m fine. You can keep me warm,” she said while looking up at him beneath long lashes, her eyes puffy a little from crying earlier. He was pretty sure she’d had a tear jerker session as a result of a lot more than the heavy shit he’d laid on her—the woman was dealing with a whole mess of a situation, and he couldn’t begin to imagine how she must be feeling.
Michael tugged her against him and held her tight. She rested her head on his shoulder, and her hand slipped up to his chest. His heart was racing, and he knew she’d be able to tell beneath her palm.
It was part nerves about what was going to happen with Dustin, but also because of fear—he’d opened up to this woman. He’d never opened up to anyone. And he had no clue if he’d be able to continue to be this man—the man she needed . . . or if he’d wind up hurting her.
The thought of causing her any more pain was unbearable, but he didn’t know if he could trust himself. This was unchartered territory.
They sat in silence, holding each other until the delivery man sounded the buzzer at the gate.
Michael grabbed the 9mm he kept in his safe and tucked it at the back of his pants and then went to meet the delivery guy.
Fortunately, the guy appeared normal, and so he handed the kid a hundred. “Keep the change.”
The delivery man’s face cracked into a deep smile. “Thanks, man.”
Michael watched the kid enter his car and waited until he was out of view before heading back into the house.
“I guess you didn’t need your gun.”
He set the pizza down in the kitchen next to the bottle of soda and put the gun back in his bedroom. When he came into the kitchen, he found Kate peeking inside the pizza box. “Looks like someone is hungry, after all.” He grinned at her as she reached for a slice of pepperoni.
She rolled her eyes at him and slipped the pizza into her mouth.
He grabbed a slice, too, before reaching for his phone, hoping for a text, at the very least, from Jake. The sun was beginning to set. The gold light spilled onto the lake, and his concerns grew with each passing minute.
After finishing two more pieces of pizza, Kate spoke up again. “What’s the plan?”
He moved away from the back door and faced Kate. Before he had a chance to answer, his phone began to ring. “Must be Jake.” He grabbed his phone off the table by the couch. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he answered with pained irritation.
“I’m sorry. We’re trying to get some stuff worked out. Can you head over to our hotel?”
“I don’t know if we should leave right now,” Michael answered, contemplating the risks involved in traveling, especially at the late hour.
“You shouldn’t stay there.” There was a pause on the line. “Michael, did you know David had a paternity test run at the hospital the day Kate was born? Something has been bothering me about him, and I looked into a few things last night.”
Michael looked over at Kate, wondering how she might react if she knew. And then there was a beep on his phone. “I’m getting a call, hang on.” He transferred to the other line. “Hello?”
“Hello, Mike. Or is it Michael now?” The voice was low but smooth around the edges. It echoed loudly from the receiver—he must have bumped the speakerphone button by accident. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Oh my God,” Kate whispered.
His eyes locked on hers just as the power went out. The last bit of sun hanging above the water filled the room with blue shadows.
He moved toward her, gripped with sudden alarm, needing to protect her. “What the hell do you want?” Michael growled.
“Judging by the swarm of officers at the nearby hotel, I assume you all have figured out who I am.” There was a deep and eerie snicker on the end of the line. “I guess the real game is about to begin.”
Before Michael could respond, the call ended.
“We need to leave,” Kate whispered, pulling herself tight against him.
“That’s what he wants. I need to call Jake.” But when he tried to call him back, he realized he didn’t have a signal. “Shit.” He blew out a heated breath. “Lost service. He’s probably using a jammer, which means he’s close.”
“So we should go, right?”
They couldn’t stay there, but if they left . . .
With quick steps, Michael kept Kate at his side as he moved from the semi-dark living room to the bedroom where he retrieved his gun. “I don’t want to take you out of here, but I guess we don’t have a choice.” Kate would be in danger no matter what he did—and it was all his fault. He should never have brought her to the cabin. He should never have fooled around with her last night when Dustin was out there, discovering his weaknesses.
They rushed outside, and he held his gun in one hand and the flashlight in the other. Kate pressed her hand against his shoulder, following his lead to the car.
He studied his Audi with the light, checking for any signs of tampe
ring. “Stand back,” he cautioned as he unlocked the vehicle and turned it on. He pulled up the LCD screen and tapped a few buttons, performing a quick, systems check for interference. He couldn’t risk the car blowing up with Kate inside.
“All clear,” an electronic voice from the car announced.
“We’re good. Get in.”
She secured her belt and shifted in her seat to better face him. “I’m scared, Michael.”
“I know, but it’ll be okay.” He couldn’t look her in the eyes as he spoke, because he wasn’t sure if he was being honest. His gut was telling him that they were already screwed.
He kept his eyes trained on the thick wood surrounding them as he drove down the long driveway. They needed to get out of the dark, and fast.
He tightened his grip on the wheel with one hand and repositioned the other to grasp hold of the gun in his lap, even though he wanted to be holding onto her, instead.
Where are you, you son-of-a-bitch? His eyes flitted each direction as they drove down the back road. There were still a few miles to go before they reached safe—or safer—ground.
When he caught sight of two bright headlights flashing on from an upcoming side road, he immediately braked.
But he was too late.
The sound of the two metal objects crashing into each other was deafening. The airbags were like a harsh punch in the face as they exploded inside the car.
His Audi slid off the road, only to be stopped by a tree, which caused a secondary jolt of his head forward and back.
Kate’s screams shot through him. He tried to move, to free himself from the seatbelt, but the airbag was in his way. He searched blindly for his gun with a blood-streaked hand.
His hands slipped against the seatbelt buckle.
Get the fuck out. Get to her. His brain shouted desperate orders to his battered body.
When the buckle finally unlatched, he reached for the door handle and tried to fight his way free from the airbag. He tumbled out of the car and hit the ground with a large smack, the pain in his shoulder slicing through him.
He could no longer hear Kate, which made him more nervous. He started to get up when he saw boots closing in on him.
The same military-grade boots appeared in his mind. A memory of Afghanistan . . . of the Taliban insurgent who’d slit the soldier’s throat.
He shook the image free. He had to stop Dustin before he got to Kate. Where was his gun?
“You can’t save her. Not today, anyway.”
Michael started to push off the ground, ready to lunge toward Dustin. But the last thing he saw was a gun in his face. And the last thing he felt was an all-too-familiar pain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“I gave you quite the dose of morphine. You might feel a little nauseous.”
Kate had surgery once. She’d had her wisdom teeth removed, and she had been nervous to be put under anesthesia, so the doctors had given her something to calm her down. It had felt something like this.
She struggled to control her thoughts and fight through the blur of memories in her brain. Where was she?
As if emerging from a dark tunnel, she started to see the light.
A car crash. Screaming—her own shrieks. Michael? Oh, God, what about Michael?
“Where is he?” She hadn’t known that she spoke aloud until a voice answered from the darkness.
“In a hospital, I assume.”
“Where am I?” She shut her eyes, hoping to quell the sick feeling that was building in her stomach.
She tried to touch her face, but she couldn’t lift her hands. Kate forced her eyes open, fighting the grogginess that weighed her down. Cool metal chafed against her wrists as she twisted to find her hands.
They were shackled to a headboard.
She tried to move her feet, but they seemed likewise occupied.
“If you squirm, you’ll just hurt yourself,” the man warned as he stepped to the bedside and was dimly illuminated. He stared down at her and touched her face with the back of his hand.
It was Dustin. She couldn’t make out his features, but she knew it had to be him.
She wanted to jerk her face free of his touch, but her head drifted to the side. “Where am I?” she repeated, mumbling.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and clapped his hands. Dust choked the air as his hands smacked together. “The place has been vacant for some time now.”
She tried to sit up a little, to get a better view. But it was pointless—her head was too heavy, and she was cuffed. “Why am I alive? Why not kill me?”
“It’s up to Michael if you live or die.”
His words echoed in her ears for a moment, bouncing around as she tried to make sense of them. She moved her head toward the source of light beside her. Sitting on top of a bedside table was a battery-operated lantern. Either there was no electricity, or Dustin didn’t want the lights on. Her body flexed against the restraints as anger stirred inside her. “What do you want from me?”
“What every man wants,” he rasped.
Her stomach flipped and burned as waves of acid and nausea tumbled inside of her. This can’t be happening. “No.” She shook her head and strained against the handcuffs again.
“Money. Relax.”
She stopped struggling. “My family has money if that’s what you want.” Kate allowed herself a thin glimmer of hope.
“You don’t have the kind of money I’m looking for, but thanks for the offer.” He stood up and crossed his arms.
She could almost picture what he must have looked like in Afghanistan, with a sniper rifle strapped to his body and a shit-eating grin on his face. “I don’t understand.” The drugs were becoming less potent, and she was beginning to feel the effects of the accident. She bit back the desire to cry as a sharp, stabbing pain shot through her shoulder and right arm.
“Need more meds?” he asked while tilting his head.
“No.” The last thing she wanted was to be drugged by a psychopath.
“Well, if you change your mind . . . You’re no good to me unconscious.”
She flinched as he approached her. “Please, don’t touch me.” She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in her bottom lip, fear enveloping her. Her eyes opened when something wet touched her forehead. The sensation trailed to her shoulder.
He dabbed at the blood with a moist cloth and taped gauze over the small gash in her shoulder.
She stared at him in surprise, worried about his true intentions. “Please, just leave me alone.”
“You should be okay now. Does it hurt anywhere else?” he asked, wiping his hands clean of her blood.
What in the hell is going on? “Are you crazy?” Yes, of course, he is.
“Michael won’t help me if he sees you battered and broken—looking dead.”
“What are you talking about?” She stared at him, her body vibrating with fear. Please. She glanced over at the nightstand and saw a gun. She hadn’t noticed it before.
Dustin sat back down on the bed, close enough for Kate to really see his face. She could feel his eyes on her chest, and she remembered she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“You’re going to do something for me. Well, you already have, without realizing it.” He made some sort of odd sound, like a snort. “You’re going to get Michael to give me . . . everything.”
Confusion swirled inside her. “This doesn’t have anything to do with my mom?”
“Sweetie, you’re a pawn in a much bigger game. Your life, your past, is meaningless to me. But I do need to give some credit to your father. If it weren’t for him, I’d never have stumbled onto such a golden opportunity.”
He leaned in toward her, the whites of his eyes bright as the light of the lantern played off his face. His lips curled on the ends into a grin. “If you haven’t figured it out by now—your father hired me.”
*
There was too much damn beeping. His head was going to explode.
After a few attempts, Michael opened his eye
s, and he was greeted by a piercing white light.
“Kate,” he grumbled her name.
“She was taken, Michael.”
Connor’s words trickled through his mind, eating at him like a piranha on the attack. He couldn’t believe it. Refused to accept it. “No.” He struggled to sit up, but felt Connor’s hand on his shoulder, guiding him gently to lie back down.
“We’re on it, don’t worry.” Connor left the room for a brief moment and returned with Jake at his side.
“You okay, man?” Jake asked as Michael struggled to sit up again. “You were in an accident, and you’ve been shot. Relax.”
Michael shook his head. “I have to find her. I need to get to her.” He ignored the pain blitzing his system and removed the wires that were fixed to his chest. The monitors in the room began shrieking at obnoxious levels. “Get me out of this hospital,” he demanded.
“Buddy, you were shot in the shoulder—not too far from your other bullet wound. You need to stay here.”
“The fuck I do.” Every nerve in Michael’s body powered to toxic levels. Adrenaline was taking over with the need to get to Kate—to hell with pain.
But two nurses rushed in the room. “Please, sir, if you don’t stop struggling we will need to inject you with something,” the nurse to his left insisted.
The thought of being drugged halted his struggle for the moment. “Fine,” he said, waving his hand at the nurse. He sat back and allowed the nurse to hook him up to the machines.
“I should be dead. Why am I alive?” he asked, feeling a little breathless.
Jake exchanged a knowing look with Connor.
“What is it?” Michael all but shouted.
“A lot has happened in the five hours you’ve been asleep,” Jake said with a steady voice. He took a few steps closer to Michael’s bed.
“Five hours?” Michael started to sit up again.
“I won’t tell you anything unless you calm down,” Jake warned.
Anger seethed through his bones. “Fine.”