In Safe Arms

by Christine, Lee

  Forty-five minutes after Lizard Mulvaney tracked her down on Skype, Josie reversed through the automatic opening gates, shifted her car into gear, and headed towards the intersection at the top of the tree lined street. Once outside the national park, she’d pull over and call Luke and Allegra again. Arrange for them to meet her at the police station.

  She was approaching the intersection, when a brilliant flash of light blinded her. Tightening her grip on the wheel, Josie squinted against the glare of driving lights reflecting in her rear view mirror.

  A car pulled away from the curb and fell in behind her.

  Coincidence?

  Or had someone been sitting in the car – watching the house?

  Waiting for her?

  A long, extended note, summoned her from the back seat, her mobile ringing inside her handbag.

  Shit!

  ‘Josephine?’ Marilyn Valenti’s sharp voice came over the Bluetooth connection.

  ‘Not a good time, Mum. I’ll call you back.’

  Josie glanced in her rear view mirror. The car was tailgating her.

  She pressed her foot down on the accelerator and switched on her high beam.

  ‘You need to ring the caterers,’ her mother was saying. ‘Get them…’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’ Josie’s finger hovered over the button on the Bluetooth device. ‘I can’t do this now.’

  With one hand working the wheel, she killed the call, sweat breaking out on her face as she glanced at the illuminated numerals on the dashboard.

  Fifty minutes gone.

  Mulvaney’s Skype location had shown up as Sydney.

  Could he?

  Could Nate Hunter have tracked her down? He’d been to her parents’ place before, the night she’d drank too much at Luke and Allegra’s engagement party and he’d insisted on driving her home. She’d had the hots for him back then, but apart from a rugged toughness and a certain hard edge she found appealing, what did she really know about him?

  Nothing.

  A big fat zero.

  A flash illuminated the car’s interior, and Josie glanced in her side mirror as the vehicle pulled onto the wrong side of the road and began overtaking. Easing her foot off the accelerator, she fixed her gaze to the front and prayed it would pass in a hurry.

  It didn’t.

  Wheel sliding through sweaty palms, Josie turned to look at the car next to her, a slow tightening in her chest making it almost impossible to breathe.

  An unfamiliar high powered ute growled along matching her speed.

  And then she glimpsed the driver’s profile, and her legs turned weak, like she’d just stepped off the wildest ride in the fun park.

  Chapter 2

  10:35 p.m. Sunday

  Nate gripped the flashlight and ran towards the blue sedan. The hood was concertinaed against the trunk of a eucalypt, a cloud of steam billowing from the hissing engine. The rear end jutted from the scrub at a forty-five degree angle.

  Dense bush formed a dark canopy, the single carriageway lit only by the vehicles’ headlights. As he reached the car, Nate could see Josephine Valenti’s terrified face staring at him through the driver’s window. He gestured for her to unlock the door, but she ignored him, wild curls tumbling around her face as she struggled to unclip the seatbelt.

  Too bad. He didn’t have time to play nice.

  Ignoring the hunted look in her eyes, Nate tightened his grip on the heavy Maglite, centred his weight and took a swing, striking the driver’s window with a powerful blow. As the auto designers intended, the safety glass cracked but didn’t shatter, clinging to its sticky plastic insert. It took two more hard strikes until there was an opening large enough for him to slip his hand inside and unlock the door.

  The glass continued to make popping sounds as he dropped the torch, flung the door wide and grabbed hold of Josie’s legs as she tried scrambling across the centre console. She howled, went feral, kicking and screaming as he hauled her backwards out of the wreck.

  Free of the car, he yanked her hard up against him, got an accidental handful of soft breast as her shoulders slammed into his chest.

  He kicked the door closed with his booted foot, lowered his arm and clamped his hand over her mouth. ‘Shut up! I won’t hurt you.’

  She bit him.

  Christ Almighty!

  Pain shot up Nate’s arm as sharp teeth sank into the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. He dragged his hand from her mouth, twisted her arms behind her back and frogmarched her to his car, ignoring a string of obscenities that would make a wharfie blush.

  Shocked by her potty mouth, he flung open the passenger door and pushed her inside. She fell over the handbrake, went still as the breath whooshed out of her.

  Nate dragged in his first breath in a while and groped in the glove compartment for the plastic zip ties. Wresting her hands behind her back, he bound her wrists before she had time to recover. Then he bundled her inside, locked her in and raced back to the blue sedan.

  Pushing his luck.

  Risking everything.

  Ignoring his throbbing hand, he dragged his tee-shirt over his head and scanned the black ribbon of road.

  No company yet.

  Josie’s belongings were on the back seat, and he tucked them under one arm, retrieved the flashlight from the ground, and wiped the doorhandles free of prints with his shirt.

  Get out, Nate.

  Go!

  GO!

  Adrenaline pumped into his system, fuelling his body and heightening his senses. He ran back to the ute, loose gravel sliding beneath his boots, a symphony of cicadas ringing in his ears.

  He threw himself into the driver’s seat and rummaged through Josie’s handbag for her mobile phone, switched it off and dropped it back inside. Then he pulled onto the road and gunned the big V8, checking in the rear view mirror for the telltale glow of approaching headlights. But no vehicle crested the rise behind them.

  There was nothing.

  Only a comforting, inky blackness.

  After a while, the marching beat in Nate’s chest began to fade, and for the first time he took a proper look at the terrified young woman in the seat beside him. She’d grown up in the couple of years since the night she got hammered on alcopops and made a pass at him. He remembered bringing her here, to the exclusive enclave of Cottage Point, a waterfront hamlet half an hour’s drive through the unspoilt bushland of the Ku-Ring-Gai Chase National Park.

  A serene haven, in the middle of Australia’s largest city.

  ‘What were you doing talking to him?’

  ‘Fuck you.’

  She glared from behind a silky curtain of honey blonde hair, chest heaving, a smear of blood on her mouth where she’d taken a bite out of his hand.

  Nate clenched his teeth and held on to his temper. ‘Was it work related?’

  ‘As if I’d know,’ she said in a shaky voice. ‘That brute — killed him.’

  Welcome night air cooled Nate’s skin, and he glanced at her again. She was trembling from head to foot, rational, the hysteria given way to fury. She was still young though, compared to him. A typical “daddy’s little princess” from memory, who thought it might be fun to toy with the other side for a while. Mess with a hardened guy like him, twelve years older.

  Seems she hadn’t changed much after all.

  Socialising on Skype with a guy like Mulvaney.

  If that’s what it was.

  Nate’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. As if this operation wasn’t problematic enough, now he had a goddamn complication like her to worry about.

  They rounded a bend and she sprawled in the leather seat, threw out a leg to brace herself as her shoulders ended up against the door. The movement caused her dress to ride all the way up her thigh, giving him a view of one slender leg, clad in black tights and ending in a flowery patterned Doc Marten boot. Without the use of her hands, she had no way of straightening the skirt.

  And if he went to do it, she’d probably
head butt him.

  Nate shifted in his seat, ignoring his bloodied hand and the smell of iron permeating his nostrils. ‘There’s a beach towel at your feet. Get on the floor and I’ll cover you with it.’

  Defiant green eyes flashed at him. ‘Screw you.’

  God she pissed him off!

  ‘Good to know you took swearing as a second language. Now get on the fucking floor.’

  She didn’t move.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Josie, I’ll knock you unconscious if I have to.’

  That did it.

  He watched her body go rigid, but she obeyed him, shifting awkwardly onto the floor, chin jutting at a stubborn angle. Huddled beneath the dash, she gave him an accusing look, but he wasn’t about to remove the zip ties, didn’t trust her not to bolt from the car at the first red light.

  Nate stretched the taut muscles in his neck. His desperate gamble had paid off, the Valenti’s semi-isolated choice of abode the only reason he’d managed to intercept Josie in time. That, and sheer dumb luck he’d recognised the family portrait hanging on the kitchen wall behind her. He’d commented on that portrait the night he’d sat in the kitchen drinking coffee with her mother as Josie heaved in the bathroom.

  Was it only two years ago? God, it felt like ten.

  ‘You won’t get away with this.’

  Nate made a conscious effort to unclench his teeth and loosen his grip on the steering wheel. ‘I didn’t kill Mulvaney.’

  ‘But you’re going to kill me — aren’t you?’ Her voice sank to a whisper. ‘I heard what he said.’

  ‘Don’t tempt me.’ But he couldn’t help smirking at the wobbly defiance in her voice. He had to admit it, the princess had balls.

  ‘Why did you people kill him?’

  ‘You people?’ Nate raised his eyebrows. ‘Now that sounds like something an overly privileged, private school educated, North Shore brat would say.’

  Her eyes turned wounded, and for the first time since he’d forced her off the road two red patches stained her cheeks, visible even in the light from the dash.

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ she said, clearly taken aback.

  He turned his attention to the road. She didn’t know it, but her cultivated accent had always gotten under his skin. He decided to change the subject.

  ‘Where are your parents?’

  ‘In Singapore. And don’t address me as if I’m a child. I’m twenty.’

  For the first time in hours Nate’s heartbeat slowed as some of the tension left his body. He’d broken every speed limit and run every red light to get to the house as fast as he could after Mitch Kennett ordered he find Josie, and silence her — permanently. He’d watched the home for ten minutes, and then she’d come out, alone.

  It was the only break he’d had in a while. And he desperately needed a break.

  Needed to finish this — and get out.

  Needed to feel normal again.

  He raked a hand through his hair, not wanting to dwell on the direction his life had taken. Right now, he’d kill for a haircut. ‘Who’d you tell?’

  ‘The police.’

  ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘No, but the police will find my car — they’ll know someone ran me off the road.’

  Nate gave an amused shake of his head at the allegation in her voice. He had to hand it to the little upstart, scared half to death, she still had a mouth on her. ‘You panicked, hit the loose gravel and slid into a tree. You should’ve pulled over.’

  ‘No, you ran me off the road.’

  Nate ignored her. He could already see the street lights on Mona Vale Road shining through the trees. Any minute now, they’d be smack bang in the middle of greater metropolitan Sydney.

  Keeping one eye on the road and one hand on the wheel, he reached over and covered her with the striped beach towel just as they passed under the first street light.

  ‘Don’t speak or move. There are cameras on the motorway. I can’t risk you being caught on one. You need to disappear for a while.’

  Disappear?

  Josie went lightheaded with renewed panic. He said he wouldn’t hurt her, yet running her off the road and abducting her proved just how desperate Nate Hunter was.

  She leaned weakly against the door and stared at his bare chest from under the towel’s fringed edge. Where was the seriously straight guy from two years ago? The leather pants and boots, the studded belt, even the missing black tee-shirt were pure biker. And he wore his thick brown hair long, having traded the clean shaven look for the dense black stubble shadowing his chiselled jaw and neck.

  Though she’d recognised him, he looked very different from the ruggedly handsome man she remembered dealing with two years ago.

  So what was he now?

  Security expert gone rogue?

  Fear lodged like a cold stone in her throat. ‘Where’re you taking me?’

  ‘We’ll talk when we get there,’ he said, looking big and menacing and totally pissed off. ‘If you want to stay alive, princess, keep your mouth shut and your pretty head down.’

  When Nate finally brought the car to a halt and came around to open the passenger side door, Josie could only stare up at him. An hour and a half in a crouch had left her mind and body numb, and without the use of her hands, she had no hope of levering herself off the floor.

  He leaned inside, eyes the colour of Jack Daniels locking on hers. ‘Duck your head.’

  Then two large hands pressed the sides of her breasts as he grasped her under the arms and lifted her out.

  She went to grab his shoulders, stifling a cry as the zip ties bit into her wrists, cramped muscles screaming in protest at the sudden movement. He set her down in what was obviously a garage, one large hand wrapped around her upper arm, holding her steady.

  ‘Stand there, until you’ve got your legs back.’

  He made no attempt to switch on a light and Josie blinked in the gloom, willing the feeling and strength to return to her limbs. Iron shelving lined the wall nearest them, and beside the ute, a car cover obscured a second vehicle. On the front wall, metal brackets held a variety of sporting equipment, skis, poles, and what looked like ropes and harnesses used for abseiling.

  Calm down, Jos. Lead with your best foot.

  After a while, he let her go and leaned inside the ute. He dragged out the black tee-shirt, donning it in one economic movement. Then he leaned in again and brought out her things.

  ‘This way.’ He pointed towards the front of the garage, indicating she precede him, and Josie took a tentative first step, conscious of him close behind. She took her time, careful not to stumble in the dark. She’d have no way of breaking her fall if she tripped.

  Musty air filled her nostrils, and she opened and closed her hands, stretching out her fingers in an effort to eradicate the numbness. If Nate removed the plastic ties, she’d need to use both hands in any bid for escape.

  Then her fingertips brushed his leather pants. Right there.

  Oh God!

  She jerked her hands away, cringing in the excruciating silence that followed.

  SHIT!

  When he spoke, Nate’s voice was an amused drawl in the dark. ‘Forward as ever, I see.’

  Heat flashed deep within Josie’s body, spiralling upwards until her face and scalp burned. Typical of him. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to remind her of her drunken offer to hook up that night.

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself, bikie, I was wearing beer goggles. You’re a sober five and a drunk nine on anyone’s scale.’

  Seconds of ominous silence slipped by, and Josie held her breath. Oh God! Why can’t you just play smart and hold your tongue?

  A vibration tickled her shoulder blades, a warm rumble breaking free from deep within his chest.

  The bastard was laughing at her.

  Vowing to stay silent, Josie continued on, halting when she reached a sturdy looking fire door. Spine stiff, she stepped aside, letting him draw level so he could unlock the door. He was bigger
than she remembered — and built. He had at least a foot on her in height, and shoulders broad enough to block out her entire line of vision.

  He entered a series of numbers into a control panel, the alarm disengaging with a high pitched beep. Then they were in a white tiled entrance hall, the silence punctuated by the snick of the door closing behind them.

  Nate cocked his head. ‘You first.’

  The room was a shade lighter than the garage, and the rubber soles of her Doc Martens squeaked on the tiles as she walked. On the far side, she reached a carpeted landing and stood looking around at the shadowy interior of a home. Two steps led to a large sunken living room, its exposed brick walls and high-raked ceilings reminiscent of a mountain cabin or ski lodge.

  ‘Where are we?’

  He didn’t answer, just reached under the leg of his pants to draw a revolver from a holster strapped to his calf.

  Alarm bells rang in Josie’s ears, her gaze following his every movement as her heart gave one big thump. She screamed, lashed out with her foot and kicked him hard in the shin.

  He gave a loud groan. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  She backed away, fear sending her voice an octave higher. ‘You pulled a gun on me.’

  He tipped back his head, closed his eyes and grimaced at the ceiling. ‘I’d have shot you by now if that was the plan, not that I’d mess up the rug.’

  He turned on his heel and strode away, seemed to think better of it, and came back. ‘I was going to undo the ties, but they can bloody well stay there now.’

  Black clothing merging with the shadows, he took both steps in one long stride and skirted around two comfortable looking sofas. At the far end of the room he opened the plantation shutters a crack, and with a watchfulness that mirrored hers, stood for a full two minutes, looking out.

  Silent.

  Gun held close to his body.

  Internally battered from the cocktail of emotions waging a war inside her, Josie listened for traffic noise, the ocean, any sound that would indicate where they might be. But only the cadenced call of a tawny owl and the answering hoot of its mate, fractured the silence.

  After a while, Nate closed the shutters and retraced his steps, shoving the pistol into the back of his pants as he paused to switch on a lamp.