"You don't say?"
"Yeah, she worked in the newborn intensive care unit, and I honestly don't know how she did it.”
The burnout rate was high in that field, from what she'd read. Mary knew her mother had probably witnessed a lot of infant deaths, which must’ve been devastating.
Mary had vague memories of her mother coming home at the end of her shift. She'd take off her sneakers and then collapsed into a chair. Sometimes she cried, and Mary would crawl onto her lap and give her hugs and kisses, trying to make her feel better.
"What was your friend’s specialty?” Mary asked.
"Oh, I don't remember now, but she loved her job."
Mary got the distinct impression that he wasn't being entirely forthright with her, although it was a casual conversation, so she didn't read too much into it. Nobody completely opened up to a perfect stranger.
“I’m glad, being fulfilled by your work is important.”
"Yeah, I loved hearin’ her talk about her day, and how she’d saved a life.” From the way he spoke about her, she must’ve been special to him.
"Hmph, I imagine you know all about being heroic. FBI agents must save people all the time."
"Not really.” He shrugged. “Most of the time, I get involved too late to rescue anyone. It’s more about punishin’ those who’ve earned it." The man winked conspiratorially.
"Are you certain she was just a friend?”
His eyes widened in shock, before he recovered. "Well, I wanted more, but she was already, er, involved with someone else.”
"The good ones are always taken." Or gay. According to her friends anyway. Mary didn’t have much time for dating or anything else besides school, come to think of it. She was lucky if she had time to eat, sleep, and do her homework.
“Yes, that’s pretty much how it works.”
"So, do you miss her?" Mary tilted her head to one side, studying him intently. "It's never too late to start something, you know."
"It is for me.” His smile was melancholy. “She’s gone."
Gone? “She died?”
But the man didn't answer because his cell phone rang.
"Sorry, but I’d better answer this.” He offered her a hand, and she shook it. “It was a genuine pleasure meetin’ you, Mary."
A hundred miles down the road, Mary realized she hadn't told him her name.
***
“Thanks for helpin’.”
“No problem.”
After they finished unloading, Mary ordered a pizza for her and Ten, which they’d devoured. Now, they sat in her living room, unpacking. She decided to do the basics tonight and then tackle the rest of the project early tomorrow morning. Right now, Mary was searching for her pajamas and her sheets.
The place had come furnished, and Mary was relieved she didn’t have to go to the store. Although, the décor was bland. There were ivory walls and gray carpet in every room, but it came with all the basics like a bed, a nightstand, a couch, a table, and such.
Ten scrutinized everyone who stopped by the door, which she’d propped open to air the place out. Her apartment had been painted a couple of days ago, and the smell was still strong.
Ten kept stabbing boxes, slitting the tape apart in one smooth motion and she found it unsettling.
Clearly, he’s had a lot of practice slashing things open. Like people?!
Don’t even go there, Mary. You’ll just freak yourself out.
“Why’d you choose Harvard?” he asked.
Mary blinked. Wow, he actually started a conversation.
“Because it’s the best.”
“Yes, but it’s like the Arctic Circle here.” He hadn’t even taken off his coat yet.
Over the past four years, she’d adapted. Her freshman year had been the worst, but since then, she’d built up quite a winter wardrobe. There’s something to be said for hot coffee and sweater weather.
There was a knock on the door.
Immediately, Ten stood, hand hovering at his side. His gun was holstered beneath the jacket.
A handsome young man stood in the doorway. He had light brown hair and brown eyes, with a muscular build.
“Hey, I’m Tommy, nice to meet you and welcome to the neighborhood.”
Mary put herself between the young man and Ten.
“Thanks.” She shook his hand. “I’m Mary.”
“We’re having a moving in party down the hall if you want to stop by.”
Ten evidently didn’t consider him a threat, because he sat once more and speared another box.
“Thanks for the invitation.”
Although, Mary didn’t feel much like partying. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for the next thirty-six hours.
“No problem.” Tommy nodded to Ten. “Bring your, er, brother, if you want.”
“Ain’t one of her relations.” This time, he held the man’s gaze, as he stabbed a box.
His eyes widened. “Uh, yeah, cool.” He hooked a thumb up the hallway. “Well, I should be going, see you later.” And then Tommy dashed away.
“Could you be a little less serial killer-ish, with that thing?”
“No. Besides, you don’t want him, anyway if he’s afraid of a little bitty pig sticker.” Ten held up the knife like a trophy.
“Whoa, I never said I had any interest in him.”
Although, it would be nice if her brand new neighbors didn’t think she was a freak, but Mary supposed it was already too late. So, she set to work on the boxes, until she found her bedding and pajamas.
With a yawn, Mary stood. “I think I’m gonna head to bed. It’s late, and we’ve had a long couple of days.”
“Sleep well.” Ten glanced at his phone. “I’ll check in with the security firm tomorrow morning. They’re supposed to send over the guard the day after next.”
Mary nodded. “Works for me.”
“Since I don’t have a spare bedroom, you’ll have to sleep on the couch.” Mary couldn’t wait for him to head back to Texas. Although, she wasn’t exactly excited about her brand-new security detail. If she had a social life, Mary thought it would put a big dent in it, but since she planned on studying and keeping boys on the sidelines, it wasn’t an issue.
Ten shrugged. “I’ve slept on worse.”
“Like what?”
“A concrete basement floor.”
Wait. What?
She was surprised he’d answered the question in the first place, although the response was odd, too.
“Why were you sleeping on concrete?”
“Because I was tired.” Unlike her grandfather, his expression wasn’t playful or angry. He seemed perplexed by her inquiry as if the reply should be obvious.
“No, I mean…” Mary trailed off.
“What?”
“Never mind.” She supposed it didn’t matter anyway.
“Make sure your windows are locked down before you go to sleep.”
“Will do.”
Chapter Three
Something’s wrong.
Hours later, Mary came awake with a gasp.
Mary could feel it deep down in her bones, an instinctual fear she couldn’t shake. She sat up straight in the bed and listened intently.
Nothing.
Mary snagged her phone off the nightstand and checked the time. It was four in the morning, smack dab in the middle of the night.
And then came the low rumble of male voices echoed down the hall. One of them belonged to Ten.
She tensed.
“Get out of here, Mary!” Ten shouted from the other room. “Run!”
Mary slid into her jeans and jammed her feet into a pair of discarded sneakers by the bed.
And then she froze.
There were only two escape routes, her bedroom door, which led into the living room, and the French doors, which opened onto her veranda. Mary was on the fifth floor, so she couldn’t jump down and then sprint off to safety.
There was a bellow and then a muffled groan from the next r
oom. What about Ten? She couldn’t leave him behind.
And then somebody tried her bedroom door, rattling the handle.
With a shriek, she backed away.
She’d locked it last night before she’d gone to bed. No offense to Ten, but it paid to take precautions around him. And that’s when she decided to obey his order. Lord knew the man could take care of himself.
“Open this door.” The stranger threw himself against it with a thud.
Time to go.
Mary opened the French doors, and a blast of cold air made her teeth chatter. She grabbed a sweater from the open box in the corner of the room and pushed it over her head. Mary walked out onto the patio and headed straight for the guardrail.
Below her was the icy parking lot.
Nope, jumping down wasn’t an option.
And then she noticed the black trellis work, along the length of the building. If she climbed down it, she could reach the bottom floor in a manner of minutes, provided she didn’t fall and break her neck, of course.
It’s just like the freaking monkey bars.
As a kid, she’d hated them. Mary had a fear of heights, and she’d been goaded into climbing the bars by her classmates. She’d clung to them, terrified, until a teacher had rescued her, and she’d avoided heights ever since.
Mary chewed her bottom lip, as she contemplated the trellis. It was made of a heavy black metal so it would support her weight.
Now, if she could just convince herself to grab it.
There were icy patches along the metal, from where the snow had melted and then frozen again. In her mind’s eye, Mary kept picturing the polished metal slipping in her grip and then plummeting to her death.
She glanced behind her, just in time to see the wooden door splinter.
Oh God, he’s coming for me. Fear of heights or death, pick your poison.
Mary slung a leg over the rail and reached for the trellis, but somebody grabbed her from behind and clamped a hand over her mouth before she could scream for help.
On instinct, Mary sank her teeth into the flesh of his palm. The man muttered a curse, but he didn’t release her. Instead, he hauled her onto the patio, pressing her back against his chest.
“Take it easy, I ain’t gonna hurt you.”
Yeah, I’m sure you’re a nice kidnapper.
“You’re gonna do what I say, and everybody walks away from the situation. Understand?” His breath was warm against her ear.
Mary nodded.
She didn’t believe him exactly, but Mary didn’t want to antagonize the man. And it was definitely a man holding her, even though she couldn’t see his face. He had at least a foot on her and he was incredibly strong.
“I’ve got a gun, and I don’t want to use it.” She could feel the hard steel pressing against her lower back. He’d probably tucked it into a pocket.
“You and I will head downstairs, and you’ll be calm, cool, and collected. You won’t attract attention to either one of us. Right?”
Another nod.
“I’m takin’ my hand off your mouth, but if you call out, you’ll be sorry.”
He released Mary, but she didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to see his face. On those cop shows she’d watched, victims who could identify their attackers were always killed as a precautionary measure.
Don’t be a statistic, Mary.
“Where’s your phone?”
She hesitated. “I don’t have it with me.”
“Bullshit. See, we’re already startin’ off on the wrong foot.” He held out his hand expectantly.
Mary bit the inside of her cheek, reached into her pocket and grabbed the cell phone. She slapped it into his open palm.
“Thank you kindly.” With that, he tossed it over the guardrail, and the phone landed on the pavement with a crunch.
And there went her only means of communication.
Grasping her by the elbow, he marched her back into the apartment. Mary caught a glimpse of him in the mirror on the wall, but it didn’t reveal much. He wore a trucker hat pulled down low, as well as a black hoodie that covered his features.
The man led her down the hall, and into the living room. Ten was slumped on the ground and a bloodstain pooled beneath him, streaking the carpet.
“Oh my God, Ten.” Instinctively, she rushed toward him, but the kidnapper held onto her.
“Relax, he’s still alive, although I knocked his ass out.”
Mary was grateful, but why hadn’t he killed Ten? After all, abduction wasn’t off the menu, so why wouldn’t murder be a possibility?
“Then why is he bleeding?”
“I also shot him in the shoulder.”
Mary hadn’t heard a gunshot, so her abductor must’ve used a silencer.
“At least let me call 911.”
“So you can have the police stop by? I don’t think so. Relax, it went through his arm and out the other side. He’ll wake up in an hour or two, bandage himself up, and he’ll be right as rain.”
Hmm, the man had a Southern accent, too.
And it sounded like he spoke from experience, but then again he’d probably been shot before.
From her medical knowledge, Mary knew the injury wasn’t life-threatening, yet anyway.
“At least let me stop the bleeding.”
He didn’t reply for a moment, and Mary held her breath.
“Please?”
“Fine, but make it quick and don’t try anythin’ or I’ll shoot him somewhere else, like in the head or heart.”
“Understood.”
Mary knelt next to him and pulled the tie off his neck, and then wrapped the fabric around his bicep. Ten didn’t even stir, but the bleeding had slowed. Ten would survive, and at least he’d be able to tell her grandfather what had happened to her.
“Come on, we gotta go.” The man seized her arm again.
“What are you gonna do with me?”
“For now, were takin’ a little ride.”
As they walked past the front desk, Mary turned toward the security camera perched on the wall, so it took a picture of her face. The stranger at her side did just the opposite.
The clerk didn’t even glance up from his newspaper. Mary briefly considered causing a scene but decided against it. She’d already gotten Ten hurt and didn’t want to be responsible for another person’s injuries as well.
Besides, if the man wanted to kill her, he could’ve done it already. And he’d left Ten alive as well. Most likely, he wanted money from her grandfather, which he had plenty of.
In the parking lot, he guided her to an SUV parked in the far corner, also away from the security cameras. There was no one out and about at this time of night.
He unlocked the door with his key ring. “We can do this one of two ways, either you can sit in the passenger seat next to me or I can shove your ass in the trunk. Your choice.”
Stuffed in a trunk, like a body?
She shuddered. “I’ll ride up front with you.”
“Smart decision.”
He walked her around the side of the SUV and threw open the door. Mary hopped into the passenger side, and then buckled the seatbelt. “Give me your hands.” The man pulled two strips of plastic from his jacket pocket and zip tied her wrists together. They were snug enough to tether her arms but didn’t cut off her circulation.
Then he rounded the vehicle and got in the driver’s seat before starting up the Forrester. A country song blared on the radio, and he jammed a button, shutting it off. And then he pulled out of the parking spot, and they took off.
After they’d driven for fifteen minutes in tense silence, she broke it.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
The stillness was oppressive, and she couldn’t take it. Besides, she’d read somewhere a victim needed to humanize herself, so her attackers would be less likely to harm her.
Mary used knowledge as a shield; it was her way of dealing with uncertainty. Unlike people who avoided the gritty details of
a situation, Mary preferred to know what was coming. She researched a problem from every angle until she found the very best solution possible.
“I’m Chase, and you’re Mary.” She wondered what his last name was, but doubted he’d offer up the information.
“Yes and I’m about to start medical school. I want to be a cardiothoracic surgeon.”
“Why are you telling me this?” He glanced her way.
Mary shrugged. “Just making conversation.”
“Really? Because I think you’re tryin’ to manipulate me. I meant what I said earlier, no harm’s gonna come to you.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m skeptical.”
He chuckled, a rough, hoarse sound.
The road signs whizzed by and Mary glanced out the window, making mental notes. Unfortunately, the signage was difficult to decipher because they were partially obscured by snow and it was pitch black outside.
“Where are we going?”
“Away.” He pushed the hoodie back from his face. “Look at me.”
“No, thanks.”
“Do it.”
“Fine.”
Mary shot a glance at Chase, really seeing him for the first time. If they’d met under different circumstances, she would’ve considered him handsome. Both his eyes and hair were dark brown, and he looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. A couple days’ worth of stubble covered his cheeks and chin. He had a lean, muscular build with a square jaw and a full, sensual mouth.
Did I really just think that?
Apparently, Stockholm syndrome was setting up shop early.
“I ain’t gonna hurt you. You have my word.”
“Glad to hear it. Could you be more specific about our destination?”
“Want me to draw you a map?”
Yeah, actually. “If it isn’t too much to ask?”
Chase shook his head. “I gotta hand it to you. I was expectin’ hysterics, but I should’ve known better. Of course, Tucker Cobb’s granddaughter’s made of stronger stuff.”
Mary was only calm on the outside. Her stomach did a series of somersaults, and her brain frantically searched for a way out of this situation. Unfortunately, she didn’t have any solutions yet.
Bad Blood (Lone Star Mobster Book 5) Page 3