The Safe Bet

by Brittney Sahin

  “When I discovered Dustin Scott was the one tracking Kate, I had to call my superiors, as well as Homeland Security. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you, but catching Dustin is a matter of national security. I have a team of agents nearby, working together to locate his whereabouts. I received direct orders to use Kate to draw out Dustin.”

  Michael clenched his hands at his sides but remained quiet.

  “I asked Kate to take her date to the nightclub. I knew you would track Kate down and become furious with me, with Connor . . . I knew you would do something irrational—like take her to your cabin. I expected that, and I needed you to do that. Dustin needed to be able to access you and Kate to make his move.” He held his hands in the air and furrowed his brow. “I’m so sorry. I was under orders.”

  Damn Jake—always following the rules. What the hell!

  “I didn’t want to betray your trust, and I hated putting you and Kate in danger, but I had no choice. We’re talking about a man with connections to notorious terrorist cells throughout the world.” Jake was trying to convince his case, but the man had no idea what it was like to have a woman he cared for in harm’s way. If it had been his mother or sister, how would Jake have felt . . .?

  “Yesterday we did a search of any recent hotel and home rentals nearby. Someone matching Dustin’s description rented a rather isolated property on the lake a mile from your cabin,” Jake said.

  “Which is why you wanted me at my cabin.” Michael released a breath. “Is Kate there?”

  “No. Surveillance shows no thermal body imaging. But we did discover something interesting—the place is being monitored and is rigged with explosives.”

  “He set a trap for us,” Connor said from across the room.

  “What about her phone? Can you track it?” Michael asked.

  “Unfortunately she doesn’t have it on her. We found it at the scene of the car accident,” Jake said.

  This couldn’t be happening. “What does Dustin want with Kate? If he wants us to get blown to hell, why didn’t he just kill me?”

  “I’m pretty sure he wants you alive, but the rest of my team—I doubt he cares about them.”

  “Because?” Michael tried to roll his neck a bit, to free some of the stiffness, but the pain in his chest and shoulder shocked him to stillness.

  “He sent you a video message an hour ago.”

  “Show it to me.” His voice was cold and thick with resentment.

  Jake pulled his cell phone from his pocket and queued up the video.

  An image of Kate appeared on the screen. She was wearing torn, and blood stained clothing, with her hands and feet shackled to a bed. The pain in Michael’s body slipped away as rage enveloped him.

  He was going to throw up. “If he fucking touched her—”

  “Just listen,” Jake urged.

  With a strained voice, Kate said, “Michael, I’m so sorry. Dustin says he’ll kill me if you don’t do what he wants. But, don’t—” The video ended, her words hanging in the air.

  Jake didn’t even give Michael a chance to process what he witnessed. “Following the video was a text message, which explained that you would be receiving an email soon. And he requested that you don’t show anyone the message.” Jake moved the phone away from Michael’s view.

  “But you haven’t received any emails. At least, not to your phone,” Jake said.

  “And if I do, I’m sure as hell not sharing them with you.” He couldn’t trust his best friend right now, and it burned him. “I’ll handle this on my own. Dustin wants me, and if I have a chance to save Kate . . . I need to do this myself.”

  “Michael, you know I can’t drop this. I have the upper echelon of the U.S. government on my ass. They’re demanding a win.”

  Before Michael had a chance to respond, he looked over to see David Adams entering the room. “Connor called me. Are you okay? Where’s my daughter?” His words tumbled out in an almost incoherent jumble. He rushed to the side of Michael’s bed.

  “What the hell are you keeping from us?” Michael asked, gritting his teeth. “Kate was taken. We have no idea where she is.”

  David took a step back and pressed his hands to his face, his fingers trembling. “Oh God, I am so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I didn’t know who he was. I tried to stop it. But he wouldn’t return my calls.” He sank into a nearby chair.

  “What are you talking about?” Michael shot out.

  David attempted to catch his breath. “Ever since Elizabeth died, I’ve been worried that Kate would discover the truth. I’ve been terrified. I tried to keep her away from this place, to keep her safe.” His breath hitched. “I lied to you all. Two weeks before her mother was murdered, Elizabeth told me that she could no longer live with the secret that she had been carrying around with her. She told me that she had cheated on me around the time she became pregnant. She didn’t know if the baby was mine.”

  The paternity test. That part made sense now.

  Michael tipped his head back a little, trying to keep calm.

  “I was angry, and we fought. I didn’t want to know who she slept with—I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t even talk to her for those two weeks. I refused to take her calls. Even when I got a message on my answering machine from her the week before her death, I ignored it. She said in her message that she was scared, that the person she’d slept with was obsessed with her—following her around. I thought she was just trying to get me to speak to her.” He pressed his hands against the chair handles. “The day she was killed, she left me another message, asking me to meet her at her parents’ house. She begged for me to come, to at least talk.” He released a breath. “I decided to go, to talk to her—but I didn’t get there in time. I told the police about Elizabeth’s concerns about being stalked . . .”

  “Apparently a little too late,” Michael said while shaking his head.

  David nodded and rose to his feet. He began to pace alongside Michael’s bed. “I didn’t want Kate to know her mom cheated on me and that we fought before her death. I wished I didn’t even know that. And how do you explain it to a child? Then, when Kate told me she was considering opening a third location for her business in Charlotte, I panicked. I was worried she’d discover the truth somehow, that she would hate me. That she would find out that I might not be her father.”

  “Are you?” Jake asked.

  “I don’t know. I never looked at the results of the paternity test. I have them in my safe, but I loved her the second the doctor put her in my arms. I didn’t care what the paper said—she was mine.”

  “How does Dustin fit into all of this?” Michael eyed David as he clung to his last grain of self-control.

  “I’m a defense lawyer. I asked one of my clients if he knew of anyone who could tail someone for me and frighten them without doing harm. I wanted to scare Kate away from Charlotte. She’s so headstrong. I knew it would take a lot, but I never meant for any of this to happen. I didn’t even know the name of the guy I hired. I was given a phone number and a location to drop the money. I provided the person with her name and picture.”

  “Jesus. You hired an assassin—an associate of terrorists—to follow your daughter,” Michael said in a low, disbelieving voice.

  “I didn’t know, I swear. When Kate called me about her mother, I realized everything had gotten out of hand. I tried to call the job off, but I couldn’t reach him. I flew down to Charlotte right away, but I didn’t know what to do.”

  “You should have told us the second you arrived,” Jake said while reaching for his phone. “I need to make a call. Before I leave, is there anything else you’d care to share with us?” Flippant sarcasm laced throughout his words. “Like who gave you the man’s contact information in the first place?”

  “I can’t divulge client information.”

  Michael glared at David. “Tell him.”

  “Alexander Konstantin,” he grumbled, his cheeks reddening a bit.

  “The Russian mob boss at Brigh
ten Beach?” Michael’s forehead wrinkled in shock. “You don’t deserve to be called her father. Get the hell out of my room.” He looked to Connor, and then to Jake. “Everyone. Leave.”

  *

  “I don’t understand.” Kate rubbed her wrists and stared at Dustin. He was sitting on the bed she had previously occupied, having moved her to a chair an hour ago. Only her ankles were tied to the legs of the dusty seat.

  “If your original job was to scare me back to New York, why all the stuff about my mom? What kind of badass hitman sends flowers?” What in God’s name is wrong with me? I’m taunting a lunatic! She swallowed back her nerves, trying to keep her head high and poker face on.

  Dustin averted his eyes from the computer screen on his lap and fixed them on Kate. “Listen, my love, I don’t have a clue about any fucking flowers, but I am a genius.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment, then returned her gaze back to the dark eyes of the madman. “Well, you failed at your job. I didn’t leave Charlotte.”

  “And thank God for that. Running to Michael for protection triggered my idea.”

  God, she was dying to strangle the bastard.

  “I mean, when I discovered the intense dynamic between the two of you . . . I simply couldn’t resist. I guess you could call it fate. I was given a precious gift. An opportunity to cash in on much more than a worried father . . .” He chuckled, and the shrill sound of his laughter was disturbing. He belonged in a mental institution. “Of course, your father had no clue that I was much more dangerous to you than Charlotte could ever be.” He lifted his long fingers from the laptop for a brief second to crack his neck. “What does he have against this place, anyway? I noticed that you visited your mother’s grave—she died here, huh?”

  What is wrong with you, you sick prick? A sour taste filled her mouth. She couldn’t wrap her head around the truth. Her father had hired a deranged psycho, and now he was using her to get to Michael. She chose to ignore his mention of her mother and responded, “Michael will never give in to you.”

  “He has a nasty hero complex, sweetie.” He wet his lips and arched his shoulders back before moving the laptop onto the bed. “Sure, Michael has a reputation for tossing women to the curb, but I knew that Michael would fasten his superhero cape and soldier around like the savior he thinks he is.” He stood up and moved toward Kate before kneeling in front of her.

  She tried to hide her trepidation as he placed his hand on her knee. She could feel the bile rise into her throat.

  “I never anticipated it would be so easy, though. I wanted to be sure he truly cared about you—the look on his face when I aimed my sniper at you was priceless.”

  He ran his cool fingers up her cheek, and she jerked her hand up, ready to hit him, but he caught it in the air. When she responded by swinging her other hand at him, he gripped both her wrists so hard that she had to bite her lip to fight the pain.

  He released her and rose to his feet, taking a step back. “Feisty thing, aren’t you? I see why he likes you. And why he’ll do whatever I want.”

  She angled her face up and narrowed her eyes on his. “He’s a patriot, first and foremost. He won’t sacrifice the safety of the nation for me. I won’t let him.” She gripped the arms of the chair. “Money is one thing, but giving you access to national intelligence . . . you’re certifiable.”

  “I have men already bidding top dollar for the information—the bid is nearing eight hundred million dollars. Come on, even you can appreciate a good auction.” He winked at her. “He’ll give me what I want. And if not, I’ll empty the few hundred million from his bank account into mine and kill you all. Mother always told me to have a back-up plan.”

  She could never let Michael endanger the nation’s secrets for her. But who was she kidding—she knew she didn’t need to worry about that. He wouldn’t betray his country.

  “How many times are we going to recycle this dialogue? Michael won’t sell out his country. He doesn’t care for you. Blah. Blah. Blah.” Dustin cocked his head. “Do I need to tape your mouth?”

  “Asshole,” she muttered.

  “Hey, you really should blame yourself for all of this. What kind of moron goes on a date when there’s a gun-toting stalker following her around? You should have stayed penned up in Michael’s cozy loft.” He guffawed. “You could be asleep in his arms right now. Instead, you followed the orders of Michael’s FBI buddy—which I counted on. I knew that I could rely on Homeland Security to draw you out for me.” He exhaled a breath and his eyes shifted to her mouth. “I’m always two steps ahead, baby.”

  “Just kill me now. Get it over with.” Gone was the pain and sadness that had infiltrated her earlier in the night. In its place was the reality of her situation.

  “Where would the fun be in that?”

  She hated how he towered over her, immense. Solid muscle pressed against his black T-shirt. She felt weak. Powerless.

  “If Michael does give me what I want, I plan on sparing his life. Imprisonment as a traitor of the U.S. government is a fate worse than any death I might deliver.”

  “You son of a bitch.” Without hesitation, Kate jumped up from her chair with her hands out in front of her, ready to claw at his face. Instead, she fell to her knees and pulled the chair down with her.

  She looked up at him, hands pressed against the dusty, hardwood floor. Her ankles sang with pain from rubbing and twisting against the rope as she fell. “He’s going to kill you,” was all she had managed before he knocked her unconscious.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  IT WASN’T EASY TO ESCAPE the hospital without setting off all the bells and whistles. But Michael was never one to hide from a challenge.

  He called a taxi from his bedside phone before sneaking out of his room. The taxi brought him to a hotel a few blocks away, but he was careful to avoid the one where the Feds were camped out.

  He entered the lobby of the hotel wearing his worn and bloody clothes. It was three in the morning. Seven hours had passed since he’d last seen Kate. The pain in his shoulder throbbed as he made his way to the conference room in the lobby. He ignored it as he settled behind a computer.

  He accessed his private account—his untraceable, unhackable email account. How had Dustin known about it? He held his breath as he clicked open the only new email.

  He lowered his face into his palm after he read the message.

  There was no way in hell he could turn over sensitive government information to that psycho. Or give him carte blanche access to the encrypted intelligence software currently being used overseas. He couldn’t even consider the option. He had to try and negotiate with him—offer him money, something . . . anything else. He would trade his own life to bring Kate back alive.

  His fingers stabbed at the keyboard.

  When he pressed the send button, Michael sat back in the chair, fingers in a steeple at his chin, waiting. When the sound of new mail binged a minute later, his eyes burned as he read the note.

  Bring what I want in exactly two hours. Meet me at the place where her mother died. And send your buddies to my rental home. Come alone, or she dies.

  Michael closed out of his email and erased any evidence from the system. He rushed out of the hotel lobby and back to the taxi that he’d paid to wait on standby. He needed to get to his office in the city, and fast.

  *

  “He has five minutes.” Dustin looked over at Kate as she sat in the chair next to him with cuffed hands and roped ankles.

  The headache she had from being knocked out by Dustin was nothing compared to the pain pooling in her gut in nervous anticipation for what was to come.

  This can’t be happening. She glared at Dustin before glancing at the laptop. The computer displayed a home on the lake, one that was rigged with explosives, or at least, so Dustin told her.

  “Your friend Jake should be credited for allowing my plan to work so flawlessly.” He shook his head and brought his hand to his chin as he focused on the
screen.

  She swallowed her fear as she watched men cloaked in black uniforms, guided by headlamps and long-range weapons, move in on the house.

  Don’t go. Don’t do it.

  An explosion blasted from the home moments later. Smoke billowed from the scene. The camera went out.

  She struggled against the cuffs as tears filled her eyes. Had Jake or Connor been there? God, how many people died because of her? How could Michael follow Dustin’s commands? Didn’t he know it was a set-up? And what further hell did Dustin have in store?

  “So many Feds. So many dead Feds.” He raised an eyebrow, and his eyes lit with obvious excitement. “Next.” He tapped a few buttons, and the screen switched to her grandparents’ home.

  She held her breath and watched with trepidation, her face mimicking the panic that swelled inside her. “Please . . .”

  It was dark outside. The sun had yet to slip into the sky, but she could see a dark figure approach the back of the house. He moved toward the door with a large briefcase in his hand. There was no gun in sight. God, Michael, no!

  “Good boy,” Dustin said, staring with intense focus on the screen.

  Kate’s eyes widened, and she tried not to betray her sudden shock.

  “I guess you win,” she said, trying to mask her excitement. The body of the man in the video was leaner than Michael. And his hair was a little too short. “I can’t believe Michael would really betray his country.” Dustin diverted his attention to Kate, a smile of victory planted on his face. “You win,” she said again, trying to hide the fact that she’d caught sight of a shadow on the deck off the kitchen.

  “I guess that means he loves you. Too bad he’ll never get to be with you.” He reached for the gun that hung from his sidearm holster strap.

  She shivered as she heard Michael’s voice. “You’re always one Goddamned step ahead, but not this time.”

  Dustin pivoted in his stance, finding Michael a few feet away.

  Before Kate understood what was happening, she heard a shot ring through the air. She flinched as flecks of blood splattered her shoulder and arm.