Vaughn shook his head and pushed to his feet.
He glanced inside.
Melody was out a bed since she’d given up her room to the Troy Team guys. She’d posted up on the sofa and was still plugging away, doing work.
He wasn’t keen on chatting, so he turned toward the railing and stared into the inky blackness, allowing his mind to empty.
Chances were good Grant was going to carry through on his threat to send Vaughn to Egypt to wait for the job to be done.
Vaughn had known this offer was a bad idea when Ashton made it. The whole thing was poorly thought out. And yet, Carla drew him. Vaughn’s resolve buckled every time she came close.
Why her? Why now?
He’d never had a woman get under his skin like this.
He drew in a deep breath and tipped his head up.
Every job ended, and when this one was over, Carla would be out of his life. He’d miss her, but they hardly knew each other. She was more like a drug that hooked him after one taste. He’d crave her for a while, but eventually it would fade.
Or at least he tried to tell himself that. Every time he did he got a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he knew he was lying.
Vaughn turned toward the table.
A bit of movement on the stairs made him freeze.
Carla descended the chrome and glass stairs slowly, her gaze going from Melody—who hadn’t yet noticed her—to Vaughn. His mouth dried up. Instead of the silky number, she still wore sweatpants and a tank top.
He forced himself to cross to the table and sit, but the masochist inside of him cocked his chair so he could see the bottom of the stairs from where he sat.
Carla reached the ground floor, bringing her into Melody’s field of vision. The other woman sat up and said something in a low voice. He watched them from the corner of his eye and wondered at what they said.
He knew without asking that Carla was coming to talk to him. Much like last night. Only this time she wouldn’t like what he said.
The conversation between the ladies continued. He drummed his fingers on the desk, impatient for his woman to come to him.
But she wasn’t his
Fuck this.
He needed coffee.
Vaughn pushed to his feet and entered the condo. In the kitchen his view of the main room was limited. All the better to not see Carla.
He spent some time brewing the perfect cup of coffee, focusing on that instead of his very real problems. When this job began his biggest fear was that his brother might skip out of detox and disappear for another month. In a weird turn of events, Santiago was doing fine. Now, worst-case scenario, Vaughn could lose his job.
Once his coffee was brewed, he headed back out to the terrace.
The sofa was empty, and he didn’t see Carla, at least not until he studied the terrace.
She’d gone outside and retreated to the far corner where she kind of faded into the wall.
They were alone.
Things happened when they were alone.
He stopped next to the table and studied the feeds.
More nothing.
Vaughn and Carla needed to have a talk. Maybe their last talk.
He took a fortifying gulp of coffee before sitting it down and heading toward her.
Carla must have sensed his presence. She glanced over her shoulder at him, their gazes tangling
He came to a stop a few feet away and gripped the railing with both hands.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.
“Hadn’t been to bed yet. Thought I’d come downstairs and...” She shrugged. “Melody is going to share my room tonight.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. It seemed silly not to.” She shrugged and leaned forward.
“Carla?” He pivoted to look at her, once more committing everything to memory. The mole on her shoulder, the way her hair looked ready to tumble down her back, the little wrinkle at the corner of her mouth.
“Hm?” She turned her head and peered at him.
“This—me and you—it doesn’t work out in the end. I need it to be over.” Each word killed him a little more. Deep down he knew if they’d met under any other circumstances things would be different.
“Okay,” she whispered.
He frowned. That was it? Okay?
“Don’t look at me like that.” She pushed off the railing and faced him. “I don’t like this either, but I’ve already asked a lot of you. I can’t be more selfish. The only thing I can do is respect your wishes and trust that you’re telling me what you really want.”
“What I really want doesn’t matter.”
She gripped the railing with one hand and took a small step toward him, then another. “What do you want?”
He stared down at her and steeled himself for the truth. “What I can’t have.”
MONDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Beirut, Lebanon.
Carla couldn’t keep her eyes shut any longer. She’d resisted waking up because she knew she wouldn’t like the reality she was living in.
She was alone.
Time to face the day.
She drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes. The room was bathed in a soft light. She’d never shut the blackout curtain.
That was Ashton’s job.
The muscles in her chest constricted, making it hard to breathe. She rolled onto her side and drew her knees up. The two anchors in her life were missing. For the longest time it had been just her and Ashton taking care of each other. Then there was Jared, and it was like he’d always belonged there. They fit.
And now they were gone.
Selfishly she wished Vaughn were there if for no other reason than to hold her. But she doubted he’d speak to her today. In fact, he’d be leaving very soon and chances were slim she’d ever see him again.
Carla turned her face into the pillows and squeezed her eyes shut.
Crying wouldn’t fix her problems, but damn if she didn’t want to lay here and bawl.
Looking back, she could vividly recall all the moments when Mom had smiled through the pain and fear of being poor. One moment stuck out in her mind more than the rest. She’d been playing in front of the TV, one of their favorite black and white movies was airing. Mom was standing at the kitchen counter opening mail. Something had prompted Carla to get up and go to her mother, who was staring at a piece of paper with wide eyes. Even young Carla had known something was wrong, so she’d reached for Mom’s hand.
One touch.
Light had come back on in Mom’s eyes and she’d turned to look down at Carla, her smile big, bright and brittle with tears hiding behind the forced cheer. At the time Carla hadn’t taken that expression to mean anything except everything was fine. Smiles meant good things. But looking back, Carla knew her mother had wanted to cry.
They’d been forced to move in the dead of night a few days later. The only reason it stuck out in Carla’s mind was because she’d lost her stuffed bunny. She didn’t know what the reason was for now, but it didn’t matter. They’d had a lot of problems back then and Mom had done the best she could.
And now Carla would do the best she could, just like Mom.
That’s what Ashton and Jared deserved from her.
Carla didn’t need to lean on Vaughn. Yes, it would be nice to have someone in her corner, but she’d get by just as Mom had.
Carla spent a little extra time getting ready. She didn’t have armor like the men downstairs did. Her clothes might be fine fabric, but it was the only thing that separated herself from the maid’s daughter and the millionaire’s girlfriend. Without the clothes and make-up, she was the same girl. No difference.
She finished her make-up and gave herself a once over.
Before Jared, Carla would have never worn white pants. She liked her shape, even if she was on the bigger side, but white pants? She’d always felt a bit Moby Dick at the thought, but it was Jared who pointed out that white was a power play. A way to tell the day to suck it because nothing would ruin a
good pair of white pants. The black-and-white striped top with the yellow and pink floral made her look taller with the black wedges. Around these people, she needed all the height she could get.
Her make-up would always be second best without Jared. A born artist, Jared could paint anything, even her face. Her hair was about the only thing anyone trusted her with, and most of that was due to inheriting her mother’s naturally wavy hair.
“Here goes nothing.” She snagged her tablet and phone off their chargers and headed out into the hall.
A few soft voices drifted up to her.
She checked the time.
It was barely eight. Earlier than she’d expected.
Then again, she’d broken up with her booty call man last night and her family was kidnapped. Wasn’t exactly setting the mood for a relaxing morning of sleeping in.
She pushed her shoulders back and stepped out onto the landing.
Grant and Melody were at the table. Brenden stood nearby with one of the new guys. James? Jamie? J-something.
Carla kept her gaze on those four and didn’t allow herself to glance at the figure still sitting at the laptop. It didn’t change how her body was instantly aware of him, all of her molecules wanting to get closer to him, as though that were her natural place to be.
Riley stepped out of the kitchen and caught sight of her. “Morning.”
“Morning.” She managed a smile.
All conversation ceased for a moment and everyone looked at her.
The stares were speculative, assessing, maybe a little judgmental.
Was whore written on her forehead?
Carla descended the stairs despite the looks. Every second spent under the microscope helped to harden her outer shell. She was going to need it if she was going to help get Ashton and Jared back.
“Any developments?” she asked.
“Still trying to identify the new faces,” Grant said.
“Have we been able to get in touch with Farez?” Carla set her things down on the table.
“I just came back from trying his house and spice shop.” Riley sipped his coffee.
That was concerning.
“I think Farez is behind both abductions,” Grant said. “He wasn’t getting the price he wanted, so now he’s escalated the matter.”
Carla bit the inside of her mouth and sucked in a deep breath. She needed coffee if this was the first topic to handle of the day.
“Courier, possibly incoming,” Vaughn called out from the terrace.
Invisible fingers prodded at her shoulders. She kept her back toward him, but could picture him straightening, hands on the table and frowning at the laptop screen.
“Brenden, Jamie,” Grant barked.
The two men jumped to. They produced handguns from she didn’t know where and approached the condo door.
“He’s got a small box,” Vaughn said.
“Is it one of the guys from last night?” Grant strode out onto the terrace.
Carla turned, a tiny bit. She caught sight of Vaughn out of the corner of her eye and her heart seemed to sigh.
He was still there. For the moment.
The knock on the door brought her attention back to the moment. Brenden stood behind the door while Riley answered it, keeping his weapon out of sight. Some words were exchanged and then the door shut.
“What did they want?” Grant asked.
“It’s a box.” Riley crossed to stand in the living room, his mouth twisted up. “For Carla.”
“Me?” She frowned.
Grant threw out his arm before she could move to take the box. “Don’t touch it.”
“Why?” Carla frowned at the back of Grant’s head.
“Because it could be from the kidnappers,” Melody said.
Carla stared at the other woman. She didn’t know what that meant, but from the way the room had gone silent she was fairly certain it wasn’t a good thing. “They are the only ones who know we’re in the country.”
Riley holstered his gun then pulled out a knife.
“Are we sure that’s a good idea?” Melody asked as Riley sliced the tape holding the box shut.
He used the tip of his knife to fold back what looked like tissue paper. His brow wrinkled, and he frowned at the contents.
“What is it?” Carla remained where she was.
Riley glanced at Garth then Melody.
Brenden took a step back and shook his head.
“Hey Carla, want some coffee?” Jamie asked.
“No.” She kept watching the three of them pass the box around. “Let me see.”
Melody’s head snapped up. “That’s not a good idea.”
Carla put one foot in front of the other. “It was sent to me.”
Melody stepped between Carla in the box, hands up. “I know, and I’m telling you that you don’t want to see this.”
“Yes, I do.” Carla stopped toe-to-toe with Melody.
“She has to see it,” Riley said.
“What?” Grant snapped.
“You know where this came from?” Riley stared at Grant. “Because I don’t.”
Where it came from...
Carla’s mouth went dry and her insides numbed, as though she knew this was going to hurt.
Riley edged around Melody, looking at Carla. “Try to not focus on what it is, okay? We just need to know where it might have come from.”
Or who? Was that what he wasn’t saying?
“Show me.”
He tipped the box toward her and turned it around.
The square bit of flesh was jagged. Fatty yellow cells stuck out from the bottom. And etched onto the dermal layer of skin was a small, half-dollar sized cartoon rainbow with a smiley face. Only she didn’t see a smiley face, she saw Jared screaming, in pain.
Her own throat constricted, and the room faded.
“Take it away,” Vaughn snapped.
Suddenly he was there, arms wrapped around her.
“Easy. Breathe. Take a deep breath,” he muttered into her ear.
Her chest ached, her eyes stung, the room twirled. She pressed her fingers to her cheeks and found them wet. She’d been crying? When had that happened?
“I know, that was hard,” he whispered. “You’re tough. Pull it together, princess.”
She hugged Vaughn around the waist and breathed in his smell while all her broken pieces hurt. Her throat was raw and her knees wobbled. It was selfish to cling to Vaughn and she shouldn’t do it, but he’d held her first.
“Who had that tattoo?” he asked, his tone gentle.
“Jared.” Her voice cracked. She swallowed trying to ease the soreness. “Jared had it on his ribs, left side. He got it when he was twenty on a dare or something.”
“Is there anything else in the box?” Melody asked.
“Gloves?” Riley asked.
“Don’t listen. Sh.” Vaughn covered one of Carla’s ears with his hand, not that it made any difference, but it was the thought that warmed her insides.
She was content to stand there, eyes shut, trying to not listen as the box was unpacked. Vaughn stroked her back and kept a tight hold on her despite the room full of people.
“What’s it say?” Grant’s voice was softer now.
“This has to be the man you described last night,” Melody said. “They want money. I can work with this. No ransom number. If I get him talking soon I can keep us working. We need the cash Ashton brought as backup.”
Carla squeezed her eyes shut a little tighter.
Farez wasn’t the bloodthirsty type. He wouldn’t do something like this. She knew it. Which meant Jared had been taken before Farez got to him. And now both Jared and Ashton were in danger.
“Sh, don’t cry,” Vaughn whispered.
How did she stop something she couldn’t control?
If she had that ability, Jared and Ashton would be safe. Vaughn would be hers. None of this would be happening.
MONDAY. BEIRUT TERRACE Garden Condos, Beirut, Lebanon.
> Farez had to make things right. He had to do something.
He stood on the sidewalk and stared up at the fancy condo building in the bustling downtown area. He’d seen the black SUVs and followed them this time back here. With any luck, Ashton and Carla were somewhere up there. It was their assistant Farez was worried about.
Hani was a thug. A troublemaker. And Farez didn’t trust him.
What if Hani had them all?
It was a situation Farez didn’t want to think about too much.
Someone bumped into him. Farez stumbled sideways into another large man before a hard object was thrust against his ribs.
“Don’t move. Don’t scream. Walk,” the man he’d stumbled into said.
“What?” Farez glanced over his shoulder and met the gaze of a blonde haired green eyed American.
“Move,” the blonde man barked.
Farez let the two men guide him across the street toward the condo’s entrance. “I need to speak with Ashton. Or Carla.”
“Like hell you will,” the other man said.
“I need to speak with them about their assistant. Hani took him.” Farez let the two men usher him into the building.
“You need to keep your mouth shut,” the blonde man growled.
“Please, I only want to make this right.”
The two men hauled Farez into an elevator. The blonde took a step back and leveled his handgun at Farez. The other man began feeling at Farez’s pockets and body.
“I am unarmed. I only want to help.” He’d tried to live his life as a good person. In a dark period, desperate to hang onto the community he loved, he’d done something rash and stupid out of fear.
Now it was up to him to help make it right.
“He’s unarmed,” the second man said.
“What do you want with Ashton and Carla?” the blonde man demanded.
Farez was here to cooperate. Couldn’t they understand that?
The elevator dinged.
“Move.” The blonde man nodded at the door.
Had Farez made a mistake coming here? These armed me weren’t listening. It was Carla who’d heard him out. She was who Farez needed to speak with.
A door at the end of the hall opened and two more men came toward him, weapons in hand.
This was not what he’d expected.
“He wants to talk to Ashton and Carla,” the blonde told the others.
Dangerously Deceived (Aegis Group Lepta Team, #3) Page 16