“Libby, I have something that I want to discuss with you.”
“That sounds suspiciously like ‘we need to talk’.” Her reply sounded light and casual, but her gut was clenched. She felt like she was awaiting execution, and very much feared it might be a literal one.
“I’m selling the company.”
Libby stopped dancing and stared up at him. Tipping back the gold mask she wore, so she could meet his gaze directly, she could tell from his expression that he was serious. “I thought you loved the company, loved inventing and creating.”
“I do. I still want to do something, but maybe on a smaller scale. This global technology—there are just too many unsavory players. It’s time to get out…I want you to stay with me. Even when all this is done, when the danger is past, I want you with me. I’m not ready to let you go.”
Libby knew what he was asking. It wasn’t forever, only until he tired of her and their affair had run its course. Could she do that? How long could she tolerate the trap door beneath her feet of never knowing when it would end? Would it even matter? If she survived whatever was about to happen, he would probably never forgive her for the deceit. “I don’t know if I can—your life is so different from mine. We barely even know one another.”
“So, we’ll get to know one another.”
Libby sighed. “Let’s just get through this, one day at a time. Maybe when the danger is past we can figure it out, but right now, that’s just not a decision I can make.”
He stared at her for the longest time, as if he were looking straight into her.
She fought the urge to pull away, to hide from his penetrating gaze.
Finally, he nodded. “Okay. But this isn’t over. We will talk about this again.”
Libby pressed herself against him, wanting to just enjoy the short time she might have left with him, before it all got too complicated. “I don’t want to talk. We’ve made our appearance—danced, gambled, ate, danced some more. We’ve been seen by everyone who needs to see us to report exactly where we are in the world. So, let’s go…Take me back to the hotel and take me to bed.”
“Well, there’s something we agree on.”
~*~*~
Gavin moved through the crowd, his hand at the small of Libby’s back as he guided her toward the exit.
Ronan’s men were stationed around the room and they casually fell in step around them, surrounding them, forming a shield between them and anyone who might mean them harm.
It hit him in that moment how any one of them would step in front of a bullet for them. They were trained to do it, paid to do it, but it did nothing to lessen the courage and honor it took to be that kind of man.
Ronan handpicked each one of them. At the door, Ronan stood there, holding up a hand in caution as he waited for the all clear from the men stationed outside. After a few moments, Ronan beckoned them forward and continued in front of them as they went through the ornate doors and down the red carpet to the waiting car.
Paparazzi roared. Camera flashes went off all around them, blinding them. It’d become something he’d grown used to, but it bothered him to feel Libby flinch beside him.
Giving up the business, getting out of the limelight, or as far out of it as the tabloids would let him, was the right choice. It was time he lived a real life, one that meant something, and one that he enjoyed. How long had he just been going through the motions?
He didn’t felt a challenge in making money any longer. Even the invention of new technology had lost its appeal. The more money and fame he’d accumulated, the more disconnected he’d become from people. Libby changed all that. The minute he saw her on that yacht, chatting with a bartender and seemingly oblivious to the fact of how she should’ve been angling after the wealthier guests, it felt like he’d come back to life.
Ronan opened the limo door and Gavin ushered Libby into the car, climbing in behind her.
Ronan climbed in, as well.
Privacy right now wasn’t an option. Gavin understood that, but it didn’t mean he liked it.
The driver eased away from the covered portico of the casino, parting the throng of photographers like Moses and the Red Sea.
Gavin felt momentarily impressed. “He’s good. Where’d you dig him up?”
“Quantico.”
The single worded answer told Gavin just how seriously Ronan considered their present threat to be. The more danger the man sensed, the more taciturn Ronan became. Gavin had known him for long enough to believe he did possess a sixth sense about such things,
They hadn’t even reached the end of the block when the first bullet hammered into the side of the car.
Libby screamed and immediately reached for him.
“Son of a bitch!” Gavin roared furiously.
“Relax. The car is armored and the glass is bulletproof. It’s part of the plan.”
Gavin stared at Ronan, noting how implacable the man acted as the hail of bullets continued to pepper the car—all to no avail.
To give him his due, the driver sped up and swiftly moved them out of the strike zone.
“All these people are in danger because of us! You said he wouldn’t make a move here in the crowd!”
“I lied.”
“He’s shooting at us. I’m pretty sure he has the upper hand!” Libby interjected her voice strident even though fear rang from her harsh tone.
The sound of it in her voice spurred Gavin’s anger to new heights. “Goddammit, Ronan! You work for me! I’m the one who decides whether or not to take risks, not you! There was supposed to be no real danger tonight!”
Ronan didn’t speak to them, but listened instead to a report from one of his men who’d been stationed around the casino. When he finally did acknowledge them, he ignored Gavin’s protests. “One of my men has him on the run now. They’re on foot and heading toward the city center.”
“That’s good right? It’ll be harder for him to get away from there!” Libby’s expression brightened at the thought.
“Not necessarily. Thicker crowds. Narrow streets with lots of doors and alleyways. It’s a good place to lose a tail.”
Gavin cursed again. “If I had that damned program working, it wouldn’t be an issue! How much danger are we really in, right now?”
Ronan didn’t respond, but his face took on an implacable expression.
Gavin took Libby’s hand. “Some questions shouldn’t be answered I suppose.”
Nothing else was said as a loud bang emanated outside the car. The vehicle shook with the force of it as it came to a screeching halt.
“Fuck.”
“What is it? What’s happened?” Libby demanded.
Gavin looked at the screen again. “That was an IED. He’s not heading for the pier. He’s heading for us.”
“An IED? A roadside bomb?”
Ronan peered out the window at the stalled traffic. He then looked back at Libby. “It was the most expedient way to trap us.”
She knew in that moment—this was the diversion he’d mentioned the night before. “It wasn’t him on the roof top, was it?” She asked the question, knowing it was the truth already. “He’s got help?”
“Probably just a hired thug,” Ronan replied. “Gavin exit behind me, Miss Jones, you’ll follow him.”
Libby knew he put her in the back for a reason…Easier to pick off. Fear churned in her gut and she tried to keep her knees from shaking as she climbed from the damaged vehicle.
The driver was already exiting the car, the front tires were completely shredded by the blast, as well as the front windshield.
Ronan nodded to him and the man disappeared into the gathering crowd of onlookers.
Before Libby could even ask what was going on, she heard the loud roar of an engine. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the dark car barreling towards them.
The crowd and everything else seemed to fade. Gavin’s shout of warning sounded as if it came from a great distance. Time slowed down and everything blurred until the
car screeched to a halt a mere few feet from her. She could see Gavin moving toward her, could see Ronan pulling him back, keeping him out of the line of fire.
When the dark clad arms closed around her, tugging her back towards the open door of the vehicle, she didn’t fight, but let him take her. Her role in the debacle wasn’t to be the damsel in distress, but to be the Trojan horse.
Libby fought back the fear, the panic as it clawed at her while she was thrown to the floorboard of the car. Her face burned from the carpet and her head thumped painfully against the opposite door. Hands pressed her roughly onto the floor, holding her down. She screamed in protest, but the sound was muffled against the foul smelling carpet.
Even through the haze of fear and anger, she became aware of the sharp stab of the needle piercing the skin of her neck. Within seconds, everything became hazy and indistinct. Noises sounded as if they were miles away when she knew they were right next to her. Her eyes grew heavy and her limbs felt weighted, her struggles slowing. They ceased altogether as Libby slipped into the darkness
.
CHAPTER FOUR
Gavin paced the hotel room, his long stride eating up the floor. An ugly suspicion reared its head and now he couldn’t think of anything else. Ronan had known. The man he’d trusted to protect them knew that Libby was the target, and he’d allowed her to be taken.
Fury washed through him, white hot and intense.
The door to the suite opened and Ronan walked in. He wore tactical gear, all black and bearing an assortment of weaponry.
“You son of a bitch.”
Ronan paused and looked up. “If I was in your shoes, I’d be calling me something worse.”
“Why? Just tell me why, dammit!”
Ronan shrugged. “It was the most expedient way to end this mess. I will get her back.”
“Alive?” The very thought that Libby could die at the hands of Trevaython felt like a gaping wound. “Or is she just collateral damage?”
“You and the project are too valuable to risk.” Even as Ronan offered the cryptic explanation, he was checking weapons, loading more magazines into the various and sundry pockets of his clothing.
“Too valuable to whom?” Gavin asked the question but he had an idea of the answer. “Who are you really working for? It sure as hell isn’t me.”
“I don’t have names,” Ronan admitted. “I receive my orders anonymously and they come from very high up on the chain of command, but I can’t tell you from whom.”
“If she dies—”
“If she dies, I’ll give you one of my own guns to shoot me with,” Ronan offered. “She’s wearing a tracking device. I gave it to her last night. Right now, they’re still on the move. Pursuit is too dangerous. I want him to get to a place where he feels safe, secure in the idea that he’s lost us at least for a while. Then my team and I will move in.”
“I’m going with you.”
Ronan shook his head. “I can’t let you do that. She knew the risks and she chose to take them because she cares for you. Don’t make those risks meaningless by putting yourself in harm’s way.”
Gavin shook his head and moved closer until he and Ronan were eye to eye. The other man had more muscle, not to mention training, but he felt pure rage driving him. “You know she’s the only reason I was going to get out of the business. Maybe if you eliminate her, then I’ll just keep creating weapons grade technology for the spooks you really work for...I don’t trust you to save her.”
Ronan didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. “Fine. But you follow orders and you stay with me. I don’t need you playing cowboy and blowing the whole mission.”
“Mission...How could you do that? You’ve been here with us for days. You’ve eaten meals with her, you’ve talked with her, but it’s like she’s not even human to you!”
“I can’t afford for her to be human to me right now. At the moment, she’s an objective...If I forget that, then I risk blowing everything. You’d better learn that real quick. Emotion has no place in the field.”
“When this is done, one way or another, you’re going to pay.”
Again, Ronan simply nodded. “You’ll need tactical gear. I’ll have it sent up.”
~*~*~
The splash of icy water brought Libby to full, frightening wakefulness. The room looked dark with only a bit of light coming in through boarded windows. The furniture was draped with holland covers and a thick layer of dust coated everything.
Standing only feet from her was a nondescript man in equally, nondescript clothing. Sandy haired, with wire framed glasses, he looked fit, but not so much that he might draw attention. Even his height seemed average. Of course, Libby could see the coldness in his eyes. That was anything but nondescript.
“You’re finally awake.” His tone sounded cheerful, as if she were a houseguest, rather than a prisoner.
“That’s what happens when someone drugs you,” she retorted.
He smiled, a cool lifting of the corners of his lips. “Miss Jones, I understand that you’re feeling less than sociable towards me, but I do have the upper hand. You are bound hand and foot, totally alone, completely helpless.”
Libby lifted her chin. It did shake her to the core to hear him say it, to lay it all on the line like that, but damned if she’d show it. “What the hell do you want?”
He moved towards her, squatting down before the chair, so that they were almost eye to eye. “It’s very simple. I need information about the Hypernion Project and about McBray’s plans for it. You’re going to give me that information, Miss Jones.”
“No, I’m not.”
He gave her that grin again, his expression cold and intimidating. “Miss Jones, I won’t enjoy hurting you, but that won’t prevent me from doing so.”
More afraid than she’d ever been in her life, Libby offered a hasty denial. “I don’t know anything about the project! You’re wasting your time.”
He shrugged. “Possibly, but given your intimate relationship with McBray, I can’t just take your word for it. We’ll put it to the test, and afterward, if I’m convinced…Obviously, I’m not letting you go, but mercy can take many forms.”
“You’re not going to get away with this—even if you kill me, you’ll never get to Gavin.”
“Miss Jones, if I kill you, I won’t have to get to him. He’ll come to me. That’s part of the plan...The information you give me, simply determines how long it will be before I put that plan into action.”
Libby flinched as he reached out and touched her bare skin. She tried to pull away, but her hands and feet were securely bound.
“I prefer not to use crude methods,” he continued. “I could beat you, remove your fingernails, scar your face and body...but I do have an appreciation for beauty and that just seems a shame to me.”
What came next, happened so quickly that Libby didn’t have time to prepare, no time to even consider what he might mean. The plastic bag went over her head in one smooth motion, and she could feel his fist beneath her chin, pulling it tight. She tried to scream, but nothing came out.
Libby’s heart pounded painfully in her chest, the sound echoing in her ears. Every muscle in her body tensed, fighting for air—for life itself.
Her lungs began to burn and her vision darkened around the edges, narrowing down until all she could see was the blurred image of Trevaython’s simple Oxford cloth shirt.
The plastic disappeared as promptly as it had come—without warning. She sucked great gulps of air into her burning lungs, coughing and sputtering as tears streamed from her eyes.
Once again, he squatted before her, staring into her eyes intently with no feeling in him at all, she realized. The only emotion she could read in him might be curiosity.
He cocked his head to one side. “What did that feel like?”
“You son of a bitch!” The words came out choked and weak, her voice quaking with fear and the rush of adrenaline.
“Now, Miss Jones, this isn’t personal. I didn’t
enjoy it, but it didn’t trouble me over much, though. I will do it again. And again. I’ll keep doing it for as long as it takes, until either I miscalculate and you die, or you give in and tell me what I want to know.”
She said nothing else, merely closed her eyes and willed it all away. Ronan told her he would save her and she needed to hold onto that. If she lost it for even an instant, Trevaython would break her.
“Perhaps asphyxiation isn’t the right choice for you.”
Libby trembled then, hating to even consider what other heinous things he would have in store for her. Forcing herself to open her eyes, she stared straight ahead, not looking at him, averting her gaze whenever he moved into her field of vision.
He chuckled. “Maybe I just wasn’t trying hard enough.”
Libby sucked in a deep breath, more prepared when the plastic bag once again, settled over her face. It didn’t keep the terror at bay, it didn’t stop the tears, or the horror of how she might die without ever telling Gavin that she loved him, but her last deep breath helped her to feel like she wasn’t entirely in Trevaython’s control.
~*~*~
Standing outside the locked gates of a crumbling villa, Gavin stared at the dilapidated house with cold rage burning in him. “You’re sure this is the place?”
“The data points here.” Ronan’s reply sounded terse, uttered in a tone just above a whisper.
Gavin glanced back at the darkened house. He’d never imagined that one of the first uses of the Hypernion Project would be to track the woman he loved. Thinking of that reminded him of why he’d invented the program to begin with.
A streetwise kid, he’d been surviving on the streets of London for longer than he could remember, until he’d gotten caught shoplifting. The crime put him in the system, in one foster home after another. In the last home, he’d met Theresa. It hadn’t been a romantic love, but they connected—the only person in his life he’d ever called family, and then one day—she just vanished.
Kept By Casanova (Casanova Series) Page 3