She’d secretly watched him, and oftentimes, had to snap herself out of picturing what he’d look like underneath his designer suits, sketching in her head the sharp, angled muscles and lean planes of his body. On occasion, he’d caught her looking his way and smiled as if they shared a closely guarded secret.
With that smile and his easy good looks, women gravitated to him. She would have sworn several returned to her showings simply because of his presence. Obviously, Stacey had been interested in getting her claws in him. Sienna’s stomach took on a quivering tightness of possessiveness just as it had the night before when she’d stared at the woman’s number. She released a quiet breath to calm the sudden surge and moistened her lips once more, recalling his kiss and his strong hands holding her captive as he devoured her mouth.
“Miss?”
“Umm, yes.”
“Uh . . . ”
Sienna’s eyes sprung open. She stared at the Uber driver, who grinned a bit sheepishly. “I-I’m sorry, what was that?”
“I said, we’re here. This is the address you provided.”
She looked out the window at her apartment building. Absorbed in her thoughts of Gavin and his kiss, and his glorious tongue, imagining all the deliciously wicked things it could do to her, she hadn’t realized that she’d made it home. Deciding not to send the text, she deleted it, stuck her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, climbed out with her suitcases, and headed up the walk.
There will be no more thinking about Mr. Gavin Crane from here forward, she told herself firmly as she grabbed hold of the knob. The door set open, just within the frame. She took a cautious step inside and drew up short at the sight of Faith cowering on the floor, her hands up, shielding her swollen face, her blue eyes wide in abject fear. Sienna’s gaze flickered to the man hovering over her, meeting his severe scowl that blanketed his rough-worn features. Dale Carter.
Her mind flashed back to the night nearly three years earlier when she and Bailey were awakened by a police canine unit that barged into their apartment looking for a Faith Sullivan and Dale Carter. She and Bailey sat handcuffed while the officers turned their apartment upside down in search of contraband. Following that incident, they’d kicked Faith out. Faith was absolved of any charges, but Dale went to prison. It was discovered that he had been maintaining a large drug operation.
Though Sienna and Bailey had been furious with Faith following the whole search and seizure incident, they remained her friend. Well, Sienna couldn’t speak for Bailey. Faith slept with Bailey’s ex back in college, and then attempted to do the same with Lucas. It had sliced a severe fissure in their friendship.
Sienna often cut Faith some slack. The girl wasn’t a bad person, she just had extremely poor judgment, a challenging home life, and evidently awful taste in men.
“What in the world . . . get your hands off her!” She dropped her carry-on and did a mad dash at the man, slamming him so hard in the chest, that he fell back onto the heavy oak coffee table. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She looked around at the overturned armchair and papers strewn about, then back at the man working to gain his footing. “Your ass should still be counting down your stint in Jessup Correctional. Faith claims they let you out for good behavior. Good behavior, my ass.” His glare narrowed, lips thinned, and she shot the look right back at him on her crouch down to examine the bruises on her friend’s face. “What are you still doing with him? I thought you said you were going back home to Cape Cod.” Snatching a tissue from the box laying haphazardly on her right, she used it to dab at the blood streaming from the slash on Faith’s lower lip. “That bastard did this to you?” Sienna sent a venomous look up at the scumbag. Apparently, those years spent in jail hadn’t been good to him. His skin appeared sallow and weathered, even more now that the judicial system’s diet plan had gotten a hold of him. His brown eyes were dulled out, most likely from excessive drinking, smoking, and who knows what else. His dirty blond hair was matted and sweat-soaked. She didn’t know what Faith had ever found appealing in the asshole. Perhaps it was some sort of twisted parental defiance. She could only imagine the look on the Sullivans’ faces, especially Faith’s father, Judge Sullivan, at the sight of his daughter entering the private country club with Dale on her arm.
Coming to her feet, she took a protective stance in front of Faith and faced the bastard before her. “Get the hell out of my place. How many times do I have to tell you you’re not welcome here?”
“Sienna, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do it. I’m sorry.” Faith cried into her palms, shaking, her pleading voice strained from her choking sobs.
“Yes, you should regret getting mixed up with this loser again.” She helped her friend to her feet and over to the one cushion that remained on the couch, then faced Dale. “Do you have a hearing problem? I said get out!” When he merely smiled, flashing tobacco-stained teeth, she stepped over to him, meeting him eye to eye. “Assholes like you prey on those they can bully and control. Try that shit with me, and I’ll kick your ass.”
“Oh, you think so?” His lips twisted in cocky amusement. “Man, how I detest you, you smart-mouthed bitch. If I had more time, I’d enjoy seeing you try.”
Sienna whipped out her cell phone from her back pocket. “I’m not wasting my time with you. I’ll let the police deal with your ass.” She looked at Faith. “You’re going to press charges on this fuck-face . . . send his ass back to jail where he belongs.”
“Oh god, Sienna!” Faith shrieked and pointed at Dale.
Sienna jerked her head around and was met with a gun pointed squarely between her eyes.
“Put the phone down. Bitch, I said drop it,” he snarled through a malicious growl.
Alarm and fear stalled the breath in her lungs. With her heart pulsing rapidly in her chest, she eased the cell phone onto the table. “It’s down. Now, Dale, put the gun down.”
Visibly shaking, cautiously, slowly, Faith stood up. “Dale, please stop this. You’ve had too much to drink, that’s all. You’re not yourself. Put the gun down. We’ll find another way.”
“Shut the fuck up! We had another way, but you managed to fuck it up!” he shouted, his bloodshot, russet-brown eyes eerily flat. He swung his gun over to her, and Faith whimpered, hands up, shielding her face, and shrank back. “That fucking aunt of yours didn’t come through. What the fuck am I supposed to do with three grand?” He glowered. “All you had to do was fuck him, and you couldn’t even do that. This shit would be over if you’d done what I told you to do,” he barked, then leveled his aim back at Sienna, jabbing the gun in the air. “I see your ass ain’t talking smack now.” He cupped his ear and leaned in. “What? Got nothing to say? That’s what I thought. Now here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna take out your checkbook and write a check out to me for fifty large from that IRA you got.”
“What?” Listening to the fool’s jabbering, Sienna turned her head to Faith, who looked away. “What is he talking about?” No reply came as the picture was slowly coming together. “Faith, is this why you showed up at my door several weeks ago? Because of him? He’s referring to you trying to hook up with Lucas, isn’t he?” Sienna clamped her lips tight, heart-crushing realization nearly paralyzing her. “You were to sleep with Lucas, then what, you’d threaten to tell Bailey, bribe him to keep quiet? Did I get it right?”
“He made me do it,” Faith rushed out through tears.
Looking around her ransacked apartment, Sienna shook her head in shock, hurt, and utter betrayal. “You and your piece of shit boyfriend also came here to rob me.” Caught off guard, her head swung sideways, and her body hit the floor hard from the thunderous blow of both Dale’s fist and the butt of the gun in his hand. A gash opened above her left eye. “You son of a bitch.” Dazed, she shook her head to quiet the ringing in her ears while crawling away from him stalking toward her.
“Bitch, you’re asking me to put a bullet in your fucking head.” His brutal hand grabbed her by the throat, squeezing, sque
ezing, squeezing. “Where’s your checkbook to that IRA? Faith told me all about that insurance money you got when your grandma died.”
“Fuck you!” Sienna shrilled and swung out. Her nails caught him across the left side of his face. At that same moment, Faith screeched and jumped on Dale’s back, wildly punching and scratching, causing him to release his suffocating hold. Dizzy, with blood blurring her vision in her left eye, Sienna sucked in much needed air, latching on to consciousness by a pure, primal desire to survive.
She managed to see through the growing fogginess that Dale still held the gun aimed at her, unwavering as he reached back with his free hand, and seized Faith’s hair. Faith screamed as a clump was yanked out of her scalp.
Seeing Dale shift his attention to getting Faith off him by repeatedly slamming his back against the wall, Sienna used the opportunity to scramble across the floor for her phone. Before she could dial for help, Dale had shaken Faith loose with her dropping to the floor. He stalked forward. Sienna armed herself with the figurine lying on its side upon the table and swung out, shattering the weighty ceramic against his knee. He let loose a blood-curdling howl, stumbled, and fell back on his ass. She was aiming for his gun hand, but her equilibrium was grossly askew—seeing double out of her good eye. He was more than pissed at her now as he pointed the gun at her chest.
“Bitch, oh, you’re gonna pay for that.” A growl ripped out, low, rumbling.
This was how she would die. He was going to kill her. She saw it in his dark, soulless eyes as his arm stretched taut, his intention precise. She scrambled backward, desperately trying to get out of the way of his aim.
Everything seemed to slow down. Behind Dale, she watched as Faith came to her feet, let out a feral cry on a running leap, and tackled her at the resounding click. A stinging heat rippled up Sienna’s left side to her chest, seizing all breath from her. She felt herself slipping into darkness before she hit the carpet.
Chapter Seven
Gavin came awake to the sound of his cell phone ringing on the nightstand. With his face buried in the pillow, he snatched it up and cracked open an eye to view the display. Lucas. Giving a look at the digital clock on the nightstand, he tapped the phone, and brought it to his ear. “What?”
“Get to the plane.”
“Do you know what time it is?” He pinched his tired eyes.
“It’s Sienna.”
Stretching his limbs, he rolled to his back, and yawned out, “What about Sienna?”
“She’s been shot.”
Gavin sprung upright. “What! What happened? Is she all right?” His heart raced like a speeding train, his distress instantly choking his throat.
“Bailey’s friend, Kevin, called me. It was Faith’s boyfriend, a guy named Dale Carter. Kevin said the shooting happened yesterday in Sienna’s apartment. He found them unconscious.
“Sienna has been moved from the ICU. Faith’s injury wasn’t severe. According to Kevin, the bullet passed through her shoulder and into Sienna, cracking one of her ribs. It’s what prevented Sienna from suffering more internal injuries. Kevin was told by the doctor that had the bullet been a few centimeters higher, it would have hit Sienna’s heart.
Gavin sucked a quick intake of breath. “Damn.”
“We’ll meet you at the plane.”
He was already shoving his legs into his jeans. “I’ll be there.”
Chapter Eight
“I’m aware you didn’t have to take my call.” Gavin palmed his forehead, fingers scratching agitatedly back and forth. “And I’m very much aware that you didn’t have to help me out.” He let out a heavy sigh. How many times did he have to hear that he was an ungrateful son? Apparently a thousand times wasn’t the magic number.
Thinking of Sienna laid up in the hospital from a gunshot wound and fighting a concussion—he’d learned that she’d also been struck in the head during the assault—it was worth the sacrifice of listening to Murtagh Kavanagh drone on. Contacting him wasn’t a smart move, but Gavin had acted on blind impulse, fearing for Sienna’s safety. Now, as long as the man’s security watched over her, he’d happily sit back and take the verbal beat-down. That fool, Dale, that shot her could come for her. The probability was high, since he still hadn’t been apprehended.
His jaw clenched, fury filling him as he imagined the many ways he intended to maim that asshole that hurt his lady. Okay, she wasn’t his lady. Still, it terrified him how easily he could have lost her. Dale would discover that hurting her was his grandest mistake.
“Do you understand your importance, son?”
Gavin blinked, torn from his thoughts. A good fifteen seconds had been missed of the convo. “If you say so,” he answered, not sure about what exactly, but assumed it likely had to do with the debt he now owed his father for the use of his men. They’d settled on three assignments, and he’d be at the man’s beck and call to carry them out. Fucking fantastic. Not.
“This is a perfect opportunity for you to learn the intricacies of the organization, get a feel for how tasks are handed down, and the repercussions when my orders aren’t followed to the letter,” Murtagh said.
If that merely meant ordering the wrong office supplies, Gavin would shake it off, dismiss it. Instead, the true meaning of those words chilled the blood in his veins. “I have to go. I’ll come by the house when things settle down.”
“Do I need to remind you of our agreement?”
As if he would ever forget. “I said I’d be by after I get a handle on things. Later.” He closed the line, and then closed his eyes. Seated at the conference table aboard Lucas’s private jet, he reared back in his chair to collect himself. Talking to his father always made him edgy. The man didn’t deal in simple acts of kindness. Everything came at a price.
He got up and joined Lucas and Bailey seated at the opposite end of the cabin, slouching down in the chair across from the couple.
“Hey, should I be congratulating you?” Bailey asked and then turned her head to Lucas. “You know about this?” He merely relaxed back with an arm draped along the spine of the leather couch. “You do, don’t you?” Lucas winked at her, and her lips twisted in a smirk, while giving him a playful slap on the thigh. She then turned back and said, “Kevin mentioned you told the hospital that you’re Sienna’s husband. They’ll only release information on her condition to a Mr. Gavin Crane. You also had guards stationed outside Sienna and Faith’s rooms. Thank you for that. I was worried Dale might show up, since they can identify him.”
“I see we think alike. That’s precisely why I did it. What can you tell me about that chump, Dale?”
“You have a security staff at your beck and call. I thought you were general manager of Marx Venture Capital. What is it exactly that you do for Lucas?” was her question instead. “Should I be concerned for my husband’s safety?” It was said with a smile, yet her inquisitive gaze shifted back and forth between him and her husband.
“Kevin mentioned that Dale is involved with some pretty hard hitters in the drug scene,” Lucas put in. He and Gavin exchanged knowing looks in his obvious attempt to redirect the conversation away from her question. They’d been friends since the age of six, and his buddy helped to guard his secret.
“Dale was released from prison a few months ago on good behavior.” Bailey made hard air quotes. “He’d been incarcerated because of some drug-related offense that he and Faith had been mixed up in years ago. By the way, I called Faith’s father and stepmother. They’re on their way. The only number I had for Sienna’s mother had been disconnected.” She looked at Gavin. “Did you and my best friend get married while in Vegas or not?”
“Trust me, if we were married, Sienna would’ve been in California with me, instead of leaving without a word.” He forced a grin. “I suppose, three and a half weeks of me hanging around was her limit.” Reading Bailey’s pitying gaze—ladies apparently talk—he went on. “I gave the hospital instruction that your friends, Kevin and Diego, are the only individuals allowed i
n Sienna’s room. No one else,” he said firmly. “I don’t want anyone near her other than the hospital staff until I get there. That bastard that shot her will know that she’s heavily protected. He should pray the police locate his ass before I do. He will pay for this shit. Does he think he can attack her and continue to breathe?” Across from him, Bailey’s green eyes widened. Irritation had roughened his tone. He didn’t mean to show it, but the mere thought of that asshole brought the fury in him to the surface. Gavin took a breath to level out. “I just need to see for myself that Sienna’s okay.”
“Me too. Kevin said according to the doctor, there was evidence that she’d tried to fight back. What Dale did . . . if I’d lost Sienna . . . ” Bailey pressed fingers to her lips to stifle the slight quiver, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “She’s like my sister.” Her husband took her hand and placed a kiss in her palm to help settle her distress. Their gazes met, sharing a momentary exchange of affection.
“Try not to worry. You don’t want to stress yourself,” Lucas cautioned and caressed a hand across the slight roundness of her pregnant belly in the fitted white T-shirt.
Bailey nodded. “I knew Faith was up to something. She showed up out of the blue after two years without a peep from her.”
Lucas leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “When Faith came to my office,” he glimpsed over his shoulder at his wife, whose stare was trained on him, “Faith told me her boyfriend was in some sort of trouble, and that he forced her to try to seduce me into sleeping with her.” He gave another glance at his wife. She offered a supportive nod and tenderly stroked his back. “Faith intended to blackmail me into giving her money. She tried to tell me something else, but I’d become so angry over what she’d tried to do, I threw her out. Maybe this was it. Dale may have threatened to hurt her if she didn’t follow through. Or maybe he threatened to harm Sienna and Bailey. Had I just given her the damn money, this wouldn’t have happened. Sienna wouldn’t have been nearly killed.”
Devil's Gamble Page 4