by Debra Webb
She still had a chance here. This had to be part of whatever they’d planned for Danes. Some kind of crazy game. But why would they want to play games? So much didn’t make sense. He’d said he wanted to teach Danes a lesson. For what?
Danes waited for her to answer. He hadn’t drawn his weapon yet but she knew he would if she didn’t tell him more. She had to be careful. She couldn’t reveal too much.
“They…” She tried to slow her respiration. The quick, shallow breaths would only make her hyperventilate. “They told me to wait for you. That you would be coming.” She looked into those analyzing eyes and prayed he wouldn’t see the lie in hers. “That’s what I did. That’s why I went out and bought a gun today.” She relaxed a fraction when his expression didn’t change. “I didn’t know what would happen.”
His stare…the silence…went on for so long that she felt a line of sweat bead on her forehead. Please, please, let him believe me. She knew it was wrong to pray for that kind of deception, but she was desperate. God knew just how desperate.
He drew slightly back, his gaze never leaving hers. “You’re lying.”
Her pulse jumped as his hold grew brutal once more. “No…No. I’m not lying.” She shook her head adamantly. “All they want is you.” Was that too much? She had to say something more. He’d seen through her deception. “You’re all they want,” she insisted. “If I stayed put and let you come after me they would release my aunt unharmed.”
There was something about the way he looked at her then that sent a chill straight to the marrow of her bones.
“How valiant of you.” The words were barely more than a whisper but even then she heard in his silky voice just how much he despised her.
She closed her eyes and fought back the humiliating tears. He was right to feel that way. All of this was because of her. Her child was living with strangers, her aunt being held hostage, this man’s life on the line because of what she’d done.
Because of her mistake.
“I’m sorry.” She moistened her lips and tried to take a breath but her chest felt too tight. “This isn’t about you. This is my fault.” She looked directly into those accusing eyes. “He told me my aunt would be safe if I did exactly as he said.”
“The chances that your aunt is still alive are slim to none,” he said bluntly. Her heart wrenched at the cold words. “If you’re leaving anything out to protect her, don’t waste my time. Think about your daughter, Miss Parker. These are not the kind of men who leave loose ends. Your aunt is likely already dead. They will kill you, that’s a given. Then they’ll kill your little girl just for the sport of it. It’s what they do.”
Despite her best efforts hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “Then what am I supposed to do?” How could she trust this man? If she told him the rest…she couldn’t do that.
“I’m the only chance you’ve got of surviving. You can either trust me or we’ll both end up dead.”
He backed off physically but that penetrating stare never deviated. “Get some sleep. Think about what I said. Let me know what you decide.”
Sleep. She frowned.
Her gaze flew to the digital clock on the bedside table.
7:56 p.m.
Panic broadsided her. “But we don’t have time.”
He moved in close again, his size, his scent, the way he studied her, terrified her all over again. “What’s the hurry, Miss Parker? We’re safe for the moment.”
“He said I had forty-eight hours,” she confessed, defeated. She couldn’t do this anymore. “Forty-eight hours or she would die.”
“Forty-eight hours for what?”
Every debilitating emotion she’d felt…every horrible moment she’d lived through these past few days crowded in on her at once. Her mistakes. Those awful men taking her aunt away. The call. The waiting.
Cole Danes.
The sudden, foolish desire to trust him…to believe in anything even remotely right in this insane situation.
“To make sure you walked into their trap.” There. She’d said it. “To teach you a lesson,” she explained. “They plan to play some sort of game with you first. Someone will contact me with the next step. That’s all I know.”
For the space of three excruciating heartbeats he didn’t react…just kept up that relentless stare.
“Very good, Miss Parker.” A grim smile lifted the corners of his hard mouth. “Now we’re on the same side.”
Chapter Five
9:15 p.m.
37 hours remaining…
“Why do they want you?”
Perched on the edge of the mattress, Angel Parker had considered him at length before asking her question. Cole felt reasonably certain that she’d spent that time working up the courage to do so.
He wondered if a woman so young, barely twenty-five, and inexperienced in the ways of his world could even begin to comprehend the actual answer to that question.
Cole dismissed the possibility without further deliberation. He’d achieved his goal, prodded her fear factor until she reached a vulnerable zone in order for him to obtain the required information. She knew nothing else of value at this time. Her continued participation in this matter was merely a technicality to ensure the link between him and his target.
“Do…” She dropped her gaze to her hands briefly before meeting his once more. “Do you know these men?”
“Do you?” He increased the intensity of his stare several degrees. She looked away again. Didn’t like the way he analyzed her. Not a particularly burdensome task from his vantage. Angel Parker was quite attractive. Slender, maybe too much so, medium height. Her white blond hair and clear blue eyes made him think of faraway places. But her lips were her most distracting asset by far. Overly full, incredibly lush. The kind of lips women with the means sought from skilled surgeons.
She licked those lush lips genetics had provided, the movement sparked by discomfort at his presence. Angel Parker was not an overtly sexual creature. Not that he doubted her ability to be infinitely sexual, she simply concealed her appeal. Or perhaps she was not aware of that power. No, he amended. That conclusion gave her more credit than he was prepared to give at this time. She was no innocent.
“I know Howard Stephens,” she said in answer to his question. “But I don’t know this new man…the one who gave me the instructions this time. I’d never met him before.” She stared at her hands once more. “Mr. Stephens is the one who wanted to know your name. He took my aunt.”
“Howard Stephens is dead.”
Slowly, as if afraid of what she might see, she lifted her gaze to his. “Did you kill him? Is that why these men are after you now?”
He watched her eyes grow wider, saw the fear tighten its noose.
“In a manner of speaking,” he allowed, uncertain why he bothered to tell her anything. He had set things in motion. His intricate planning had ensured the outcome.
“I don’t understand.” She sucked in an unsteady breath. “Why are they doing this to me? They got what they wanted from my aunt.” She searched his face. “Why don’t they let her go? Why are they using us to get to you? My aunt had no part in any of this.”
Cole leaned forward and braced his forearms on his widespread knees. “Because they can.”
“So you do know who these men are?”
“Yes.”
She dropped her hands to the mattress on either side of her. Her fingers curled in the covers as if she needed to hang on. “What do we do now? We can’t just keep waiting. Time is running out.” Her voice grew more frantic with each word. Pumping up her fear had been necessary, but he didn’t need her hysterical.
“He’ll call.”
“How can you be sure?” She trembled but quickly staunched the telling reaction. “We’ve been sitting here for over an hour. They might not call. Maybe I did something wrong. Maybe they know you’re on to their plan.”
“He will call. I’m well aware of how these men operate. Waiting is our only option.”
She lunged to her feet and started to pace the small room. He monitored her escalating apprehension but made no move to interfere. Let her walk off the adrenaline. Fatigue would do its work in time.
“I bought that weapon to protect myself.” She whirled to face him, anger fueling, renewing her determination. “I convinced myself I could kill that man if I had to.” A visible shudder went through her, testing her hold on composure. “Told myself I could kill you if that’s what it took.” She scrubbed at her forehead with a shaky hand. “But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.” Her watery gaze found his once more. “And now my aunt is going to die because I’m too weak to help her.”
She rushed to where he sat and dropped to her knees. “I have a three-year-old daughter. She needs me. Isn’t there something you can do to help us? I have to get through this for my daughter,” she urged, then her face fell. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if my aunt dies because of my mistake.”
She had no idea how dangerous this game really was. Not a clue. As guilty as she was for succumbing to Stephens’s ploy in the first place, there was no denying the lack of malice and calculation in her personality, though he wanted to do just that. Her only crime, he realized, was a lack of intelligent reasoning and foresight triggered by extreme fear.
She lifted her gaze to his, only inches separating them. “Please help me. Don’t you have any children of your own? A wife? Family somewhere? You must know how this feels. How it could end.”
She was right about one thing, he already knew how this would likely end. “Don’t waste your time attempting to play on my sympathies,” he warned, purposely adding an air of danger to his tone. “I’ve never felt the need for a wife or children. And empathy is not one of my strong points.”
She sat back on her heels and studied him, surprisingly not put off by his strategy. Her gaze moved over his every feature, his eyes, across his forehead, along the bridge of his nose, and the line of his jaw, then to his mouth. A frown disturbed her smooth forehead as she assessed his hard features. The sudden, almost irresistible urge to touch that troubled skin caught him off guard. He refrained from touching her but refused to draw away, instead he remained perfectly still, allowed her to look at her leisure. She would only see what he wanted her to see. Nothing more.
“You think you don’t need anyone, don’t you?” Those translucent eyes met his with a kind of knowing that sent a chord of uneasiness through him. “You think you’ve got everything figured out and that you’re above it all. You’re wrong.”
He seized her wrist and held her close when she would have moved away. “I’m never wrong, Miss Parker.”
Any lingering fear had vanished from her eyes. There was only a certainty that infuriated him.
“This time you are.”
Angel wasn’t sure how she’d worked up the nerve to argue with him on that particular point but the realization that she’d broken through some barrier was palpable. She’d gotten to him somehow. The burst of fury that darkened his eyes made her shiver. She should be afraid. Every instinct warned her that she should be seriously afraid and, yet, she wasn’t. She felt calmer than she had in days.
He smiled then, widely, an intimate awareness in his eyes that stole her calm as abruptly as if he’d jerked a rug out from under her feet.
“Need is a very misunderstood element of the human psyche, Miss Parker.” His voice was like silk, smooth, rich, but there was no mistaking an underlying lethal quality. “One either attends to it or denies it. When I experience a need, I satisfy it and walk away.” His fingers tightened around her wrist. “What I need right now is for you to do exactly as I say and nothing more. Do you understand?”
She nodded, the movement uncoordinated.
“Get some rest.” He released her. “There’s nothing more we can do until he calls.”
Angel pushed to her feet and backed away from him. She bumped into the mattress and let gravity drag her down to it. She closed her eyes to block him from her sight. There would be no reaching this man. She’d been stupid to try. He was as ruthless as the men holding her aunt hostage.
A medley of musical notes cracked the thick tension, yanking her from her disturbing thoughts. Her cell phone. She scrambled across the bed and grabbed her purse.
Danes manacled her wrist before she could depress the button to accept the call. “Be very careful what you say. Let him hear your fear. Show your eagerness to do whatever he asks.”
His words elicited a powerful bolt of both emotions. “What if he asks about you?” What was she supposed to say then? The second cluster of notes pealed. Anticipation urged her to answer the call.
“Tell him the truth, that I’m holding you hostage.”
She blinked. Was she a hostage? The idea startled her though it shouldn’t have.
“Answer the call now.”
Her pulse jumped at the savage sound of his voice. Wait. Hurry. We’re on the same side now. All of it was too confusing.
Stay calm. Think rationally.
She depressed the necessary button and held her breath. “Hello.” She refused to consider how fragile she sounded. Blocked out the image of Cole Danes towering over her.
“Is he with you?”
Him. The man. She recognized him instantly. “Yes.”
“Good.”
His response caused a hitch in the breath she finally released.
“What am I supposed to do?” Sound eager. Was that eager enough? God, she didn’t know.
“Is he listening?”
She nodded then caught herself. “Yes. He’s right here.”
The sinister rasp of a ruthless chuckle vibrated across the line. “Excellent. Tell him to take you to Lincoln Park at dawn. I’ll be waiting.”
“What about my aunt?” Please, please, let my aunt be safe, she prayed.
“I’ll release her as soon as Cole Danes is dead.”
Angel squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. She wanted to cry…wanted to demand that this bastard let her aunt go. None of this was Mildred’s fault. She had caused all of this. She was the guilty one.
“Take me,” she murmured. “You can have me instead. Please. Just let her go. And stay away from my daughter.”
“Oh, but I need you right where you are, Angel,” he cajoled hatefully. “You see, I want Cole Danes dead and you’re going to help me make that happen.”
She started to shake with something besides fear and anticipation. Rage blazed through her. “There’s nothing I can do! Don’t you see that?”
“The only thing I need to see is you and Danes at dawn.”
He disconnected.
She wanted to scream.
Danes took the phone from her hand and turned it off.
“What’re you doing?” She vaulted off the bed to put herself on more even ground with him. “He might try to call back.” Was he out of his mind? She needed that connection!
“He won’t. He’s given you your instructions.”
“Leave it on just in case.” Why risk it? She reached for her phone but he held it away.
“That call established a link,” he told her. “If we leave on the phone he can track our location.”
Defeat sagged at her shoulders. “Why would he do that? He wants us to meet him at Lincoln Park at dawn. Why bother setting up a location if he planned to come after us now?”
“Insurance,” he insisted calmly, too damn calmly. “He would prefer to track our movements. That’s why we’re going to stay one step ahead of him.”
She sliced her arms through the air, sick of his persistent calm. “This is crazy. The two of you are playing games and my aunt is in danger.” An epiphany flashed in her brain, the possibility so disarming she trembled at the idea. “Do you know more than you’re telling me?”
“Give me the rest of what he said and then get some sleep otherwise you’ll be useless come dawn.”
She grabbed his arm in an attempt to make him und
erstand that she needed to know. The hard muscle beneath her fingers brutally drove home the point she did not want to face. How was she supposed to contend with this kind of strength and determination? But she had to try.
“What is it you’re not telling me? You know something.” She was operating in the dark here. Didn’t he know that? If he had more information, he needed to share it with her. Surely he wouldn’t stand back and risk her aunt’s life…surely he didn’t know the worst already…. Had he said something to that effect?
“What else did he say to you?”
She let go of him and pressed her fingertips to her temples. She felt confused…afraid. She didn’t know what to do. The gun had been her only means of fighting back. She had nothing. She looked straight at Cole Danes. Only this man. A man void of emotion. Defeat settled heavily onto her shoulders.
“Start at the beginning.”
Well, he was her only chance. She had no choice but to work with him.
“He wanted to know if you were here,” she told him wearily. “I said yes. Then he wanted to know if you were listening. I said yes again. He wants you to take me to Lincoln Park at dawn.”
“What did he tell you about Mildred Parker? What was his response to your offer of trading yourself for your aunt?”
She glared up at him. “He wouldn’t tell me anything. Said he needed me here, that I was going to help him kill you and that my aunt wouldn’t be released until you were dead.” She flung the words at him like missiles intended to wound, but his emotions were impenetrable.
Danes inclined his head. “Interesting.”
His reaction made her more certain than ever. “There’s something more going on here. What is it you’re not telling me?”
A new kind of tension thickened between them, the silence wholly unnerving, his unwavering gaze adding yet another layer of relentless strain.
“I know these men,” he confessed though clearly he didn’t want to tell her anything. “They’re the final two members of the death squad Errol Leberman and Howard Stephens created. Both will die before this is over. If you get in my way, you’ll die, too.”