“Sure.”
Isaac hung up and continued to check the satellite imagery on the laptop. I knew he was still looking for any sign of Hollan and his men. The muscles in my shoulders and neck bunched with tension, and I wished Kingsley wasn’t driving so I could get him to work out the kinks with those clever hands of his. As I started to recognize my neighborhood, I sat with my fists clenched, my nails digging into my palms. My jaw was rigid, and I ground my teeth had enough to send pain shooting through my jaw. My gaze darted around, watching out for any sign of the vehicles that had chased us from the burning house. Would Hollan be driving the same car, or would he have known we’d be looking out for it and changed it to something unrecognizable?
Everything looked normal. People were leaving their homes to go to work. It was a little early for kids to go to school yet, but I was sure they’d be getting ready inside their homes, packing lunchboxes and eating breakfast. It felt strange to think of the normalcy of other people’s homes when my own life had been thrown into turmoil.
We pulled into my street and I sat up straighter, my breath shallow and my heart racing. Nothing looked any different. Was Hollan somewhere nearby, watching? He could easily have access to the same satellite equipment as Isaac, and be watching us arrive right now. I knew the idea of leaving the others outside was to protect us inside the house, and warn us if Hollan appeared to be closing in, but that didn’t make me feel any better.
Kingsley pulled over the car and parked up against the sidewalk, beneath a tree. “It’ll hide us from the satellite,” he said, confirming my fears that Hollan would have the same access as Isaac. The car containing Alex and Clay slid past us, and Clay’s stormy gray gaze locked me in for a moment, him twisting in his seat, until they drove out of view.
“We’re going in armed?” I asked, unable to keep my nerves from my voice.
“Of course.” Isaac picked up his weapon and checked the clip. “Keep your weapon on you, too, but keep it out of view. We don’t want anyone to get suspicious.”
Kingsley climbed out of the driver’s side, discreetly pushing his gun into the back of his pants and covering it with his jacket. He might be trying to look casual, but the size of him automatically drew attention. He looked as though he was a bodyguard to some A-list celebrity.
Isaac mirrored his actions, and I cracked open the back door to join them. I thought Lorcan would have gotten out, too, but instead he climbed between the driver and passenger seat and slid behind the wheel. Lorcan favored his uninjured arm, but his shoulder didn’t appear to be giving him too many problems. Of course, he might just be good at hiding the injury. I guessed showing any kind of weakness wasn’t a good thing in their line of work. Kingsley had left the keys in the ignition so we could get away quickly if we needed.
We stayed alert, Kingsley at one of my shoulders, Isaac at the other, as we moved at a brisk walk down the street toward my house. In the space in front of me, numbers appeared in my vision. One—the closest, and to the left of my left eye. Four—to the right of my nose, and further back. Eight—behind four, and slightly above. Three—further forward again, and close to my nose.
1483.
The number of my house
I still expected to see something had changed, and though this was the home I’d grown up in, and the house my father had left to me after he’d died, a part of me had detached from the place. It had only been less than a week since I’d left here with Hollan and his men, but it felt like a lifetime ago.
“We’ll have to go around the back,” I told Isaac and Kingsley. “I don’t have my keys anymore, but I’ve got one hidden.” I’d lost my keys at some point during the kidnapping. I had a horrible thought. Had I left them in Hollan’s car? Did he now have the ability to let himself into the house whenever he wanted? I made a mental note to tell Aunt Sarah to get the locks changed.
I led the way, and we slipped around the side of the house and into the back yard. On the porch were a number of planters, and inside one of those, hidden by the spray of pink flowers was a small, fake rock with the back door key hidden inside. Sensing the two men watching, I leaned over and picked up the rock, and then flipped open the bottom to remove the key.
I paused at the back door, peering through the glass trying to spot any movement inside. Aunt Sarah was an early riser—unlike me—and would normally be bustling around the kitchen making coffee and breakfast by now, but I couldn’t see any sign of her.
Cautiously, aware of the two men at my back, I twisted the key in the lock and pushed open the back door.
I went to move through, but Kingsley pressed me back and moved past me to enter first. I knew what that small movement meant. He thought there was a chance Hollan was already here and, if he was, Aunt Sarah was already in danger, or worse—hurt or even dead. A hollowness appeared inside my chest and ballooned outward. I couldn’t stand to think of anything bad happening to her. She was the only family I had.
While Kingsley protected me from the front, Isaac had my back. We moved as one unit into the kitchen. An empty mug sat on the table, and I reached out and touched its porcelain sides. It was cold. She hadn’t drunk from the cup that morning. I check the coffee pot as well, just to be sure, but it was clean and unused.
Had Hollan taken Aunt Sarah from the house? Was she not even here?
A creak of a floorboard came from overhead, and we all froze, our eyes lifting to the ceiling. My stomach squirmed with anxiety. Was it her, or was it the sound of Hollan’s men waiting for us, one of them making the mistake of shifting his weight and so alerting us to their presence?
Kingsley started toward the door which led out into the hallway and the staircase. He put out an arm to tell me to stay back, but I wasn’t going to hide in the kitchen. Both he and Isaac had pulled their guns, and I did the same, planning on defending myself, and the two men, if I had to.
Following Kingsley’s broad back, I stepped out into the hallway. The front door was farther down the corridor, the staircase to our left. Kingsley led us to the bottom of the stairs. Movement came from the top of the stairs, and Kingsley pointed his weapon. “Don’t move!”
There was a small scream and, recognizing the voice, I released the air from my lungs. “Aunt Sarah!”
She stood at the top, clutching her robe around her body, her eyes widened at the big man pointing a gun in her direction. Her gaze flicked to me and she blinked a couple of times, as though she wasn’t quite sure if she was dreaming.
“Darcy?”
I went to run up the stairs to greet her, but Isaac’s hand around my bicep stopped me. “We don’t know it’s safe yet.”
“Are you alone, Aunt Sarah?” I asked urgently. “Is Hollan or any of his men here?”
The confusion on her face deepened, and she shook her head. “No, they left straight after you called the other night.” I saw the timeline of events of the past few days sweeping across my vision, and the moment where I’d picked up the phone and called Aunt Sarah pulsed out toward me. “What is all this, Darcy?”
“I’ll try to explain.” I pushed past Kingsley to meet her on the stairs, slipping the gun I was holding into the waistband of my jeans so I had both hands free. “It’s so good to see you.”
We pulled each other into a tight hug, then I leaned back to look into her face. “When I didn’t see you up already, I thought the worst might have happened.”
My comment seemed to perplex her. “I’m off sick because you’re supposed to be missing, Darcy. And with everything that’s been going on, I haven’t been sleeping well, so I guess I’m not exactly sticking to my schedule.” Now that she’d said it, I could see the darker shadows bruised beneath her eyes, the extra lines deepened around her mouth, as though my disappearance had added years to her skin.
“Of course. I’m so sorry.” I said it as though this was my fault, as though I’d had any choice in any of the events that had led me up to this moment.
“What happened to you? Who are these men?” H
er gaze flicked over my shoulder to take in Isaac and Kingsley behind me.
“I can explain, but we don’t have much time,” I told her. “Are you able to get dressed and pack a small bag with your things? We need to get out of here.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Hollan isn’t one of the good guys, Aunt Sarah. Please, just trust me about that. He was the one who killed Dad. I saw him that night, but I’d been in a state of shock and it hadn’t registered with me.”
She gave a bark of laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous. Special Agent Hollan was your father’s friend.”
“No, he pretended to be Dad’s friend. Please, you have to trust me. He might be here any minute, and then this is going to get dangerous.”
“It already is dangerous.” Kingsley’s deep voice came from below us. “We need to get moving.”
Something in my expression must have made her realize I was serious, or maybe it was just harder to say no to Kingsley.
“Okay, give me ten minutes to get ready,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” More lines appeared between her brows. “But I expect an explanation for all of this, Darcy. I’ve gone through absolute hell over the last few days.”
I didn’t like to leave her alone, but she wouldn’t want me hovering over her while she got dressed. She reversed the way she’d come, pulling her robe tighter around her angular form, as though it could protect her against what was to come. I felt wretched about putting her through all of this, but I had to keep reminding myself that it wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t asked for any of this either.
I remembered how I’d been looking forward to getting some of my own clothes again. I felt as though I’d been living in other people’s clothing for months now, even though it had only been a week, and my jeans were so filthy they could probably get up and walk off on their own.
“I’m going to get changed as well.” I twisted to look over my shoulder at the two men waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “I need my own clothes.”
Isaac nodded. “Okay, but don’t take long.”
“I won’t.”
They both watched me with equal intent, and I had to tear my eyes away to focus back on the stairs.
I reached the top, then crossed the landing, passing by my aunt’s bedroom door, hearing her moving around behind it, before reaching my own. I pushed open the door.
Seeing my bedroom again caused a wave of nostalgia to hit me, stealing my breath. How was it possibly so little time had passed since I’d last been in this room? I felt as though I was a different person now, and the girl who’d left here a week ago was a far younger, far less wise person than the one who’d returned. I’d never been a girly-girl, and I’d long ago gotten rid of many of the items I’d owned as a child—soft toys and fluffy pink cushions—and had replaced them with funkier items, mainly technological. There was also a framed photograph of me and Aunt Sarah taking a rare selfie, but other than that, there weren’t any photographs. Most women my age would probably have pictures of their friends, but I hadn’t gotten close enough to anyone to want to have their photograph in my bedroom. My makeup, most of it a year old and worn down to the plastic container, was scattered across my dressing-table. I had a couple of Yankee candles, the sweet vanilla scent permeating the air, and a framed print of an artist I’d loved when I’d been in my teens was hung on the wall. A full-length mirror was positioned in the corner of the room, a couple of shoe boxes of heeled pumps which I never wore, balanced beside it.
Snapping myself out of my reverie, I got to work. I took the gun out of the waistband of my jeans and placed it on the dressing table, between the half empty lipsticks and eye shadow pots. Peeling off the dirty jeans and t-shirt I wore, I headed to my chest of drawers. I paused with the t-shirt in my hand. It was Alex’s, and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to give it back. I’d launder it when all of this was over, I decided. I could return it then.
I owned about ten pairs of almost identical jeans, so picked out a new pair. I also took a pair of panties and a bra out of my underwear drawer, and hurriedly swapped the borrowed underwear for a clean set of my own. I finished the outfit with a simple, fitted black t-shirt. I was torn between wanting to look good and being practical. I didn’t think any of the guys would appreciate a woman who cared more about her looks than making a quick getaway, if needed.
I hesitated for a moment, then grabbed a backpack off the hook on the back of my bedroom door where I had a variety of belts, scarves, and purses hanging. I took it back to my drawers and pulled out a second set of clothing and underwear, then threw in a hairbrush and socks for good measure. A final stop at my bathroom allowed me to add my toothbrush and deodorant to the bag as well.
Finally, I picked my gun back up and placed it in the waistband of the fresh set of jeans, then tugged the black t-shirt down over the top to hide the grip.
With the backpack slung over my shoulder, I took the stairs back down to join the men, who were still waiting for me. I figured I’d give Aunt Sarah a little more time to get ready.
“Better?” Kingsley asked me, his eyebrows raised. I caught his gaze, sliding up and down my body, but coming to rest on my face.
“Yeah, much. Thanks.”
Isaac remained silent.
We went back into the kitchen, and Kingsley sat in one of the chairs around the table, dwarfing the item of furniture, the wood vanishing beneath his big body. Something caught my eye, and I shifted the backpack on my shoulder, then reached to the center of the table and picked up the folded wedge of notes. In front of my vision, the number two, followed by two zeros, flashed up. It was the money I’d been paid by the journalist. If I knew how to keep my mouth shut, none of this would ever have happened. I still hadn’t figured out if it was a good or a bad thing.
Isaac took out his cell phone and called Alex. “How’s things out there?”
“Quiet, as far as we can tell. And inside?”
“The aunt is here. We’ll be back out with you in five.”
“Make it quick. This is all a feeling a little too easy.”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
I didn’t like the way they were talking, and my stomach turned over uneasily. Were they thinking this might be an ambush? “Maybe Hollan just has something else to be doing?” I said, hopefully.
Kingsley heaved out a sigh and sat back in the chair. “I’d like to make you feel better, Darcy, but considering the current situation, I’d say that’s unlikely.”
“Where is he, then?” I challenged.
Isaac’s teeth dug into his lower lip and he shook his head. “I wish I could tell you.”
I bit back a growl of frustration. All this access to information, and yet they couldn’t keep track of one man.
Chapter Nine
The kitchen door opened, and both men automatically reached for their weapons. But Sarah stepped through, dressed now in a long-sleeved t-shirt and slim-fitted jeans and boots. Her short hair had been spiked with some kind of gel, and she frowned at the men from behind her glasses. “Am I going to have a gun pointed my way every time I walk into a room?” She looked down her nose disapprovingly.
“Sorry.” Isaac lowered the gun, but didn’t make any move to put away his weapon. “We can’t let our guard down.”
Like me, she’d packed a bag. She set her small hold-all down beside the kitchen table, and Kingsley went to pick it up for her.
“Leave it,” she said. “I’m quite capable of carrying my own bag. Now, is someone going to explain to me what the hell is going on?”
Isaac shook his head. “Not here. We need to get both you and Darcy somewhere safe before Hollan shows up.”
Her lips thinned, her nostrils flaring. “That man has been in my house almost every day since Darcy went missing, and he’s never so much as spoken sharply to me. Yet you boys show up here, waving guns and making demands, and it’s you I’m supposed to listen to?”
I’d had a feeling Aunt Sarah wasn’t just going to
go along with things.
“Please, Aunt Sarah,” I tried. “We’re all telling the truth. Hollan is dangerous. He murdered your brother, and now he’s after me because I have information he wants. That’s why he’s been here. After I called the other night, he traced my location and sent armed men after me. We were lucky to make it out alive.”
She shook her head, her blue eyes wide behind her glasses. “This all sounds crazy, Darcy. You know that, don’t you?”
“You need to trust me on this. If we don’t leave, you’ll be in danger.”
Lines appeared between her eyebrows. “From Hollan?”
“Yes!” I was starting to lose my patience. I was also starting to understand why the guys had just snatched me the way they had. I’d have most likely given them the same sort of response Aunt Sarah was giving me now, and she had me here to clarify things. They’d have been trying to explain the situation without any allies on their side.
Isaac’s phone buzzed and he answered, putting it on speaker so the rest of us could hear. “What’s going on?”
“Not sure,” came Alex’s voice, “but a chopper has just gone overhead. Might be nothing, but I think we probably need to get out of here.”
Isaac hung up without saying another word.
Kingsley got to his feet to head to the back door.
“We’re leaving,” I told Aunt Sarah. “You have to come, too.”
Isaac glanced over and then lifted his weapon a fraction. “We will make you, if you don’t do as you’re asked, but please understand that you’re forcing our hands.”
I winced internally. I didn’t want him to take the hard-handed route with her. But then I reminded myself that Hollan could hurt Aunt Sarah to get to me, if he wanted, and we needed to do whatever was necessary to keep her safe.
Her eyes hardened, and she glanced between me and the gun. She was probably hoping I’d tell Isaac to put the weapon away, but I couldn’t do that. Force was never going to be a first choice, but if it had to be a final and only option, then so be it.
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