It was hours later. She’d fallen asleep in his arms and now moonlight streamed across the bed and awakened her. She looked over to see him watching her.
“Sara.” His voice was seductive in the waning hours of the night.
He leaned over and kissed her hard and deep. His hand was hot against her nipple. And passion eclipsed them again as his tongue worshiped her body and she begged him to enter her within minutes and end the sweet torture. They slept spooned together for what was left of the night and it was only the sunlight streaming across the room that awakened them.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Talib left early that morning. She knew that he hoped to find a lead, to end this as soon as possible. In fact, he’d said as much. He’d been brisk and businesslike, but the kiss he had given her when he left had promised so much more.
Despite his absence, she knew that they were safe. Talib had made sure of that. When he wasn’t there, there were trusted servants only a call away. There were three that she now knew well. Tazim, a middle-aged man with an easy smile, was the one she saw most frequently. In the last few days, he’d made a point of bringing a special treat for Everett every time he’d arrived. The fact that he checked on them three or four times a day and often dropped to his knees to briefly play with the boy had Everett chortling happily now at the sight of him.
After Talib had left, she’d been consumed with thoughts of what things might be like after this was over. Would she return to the States and take Everett with her, separate him from his father? Could she do that? She knew now that her fear could not shadow her son’s life. He needed to know his father. She wasn’t sure how she was going to make that happen. Could she endure months without her son while he was here and she was in the States? Not possible. He was too young to be wrenched from her in that way. But she couldn’t fathom moving here, either.
She needed to get out, to get some air. Despite the vastness of this apartment—Talib had told her that it was four thousand square feet—she was restless. Her life was on hold. Her once busy days were now reduced to caring for Everett and worrying. It wasn’t enough to keep either her mind or her soul occupied. It hadn’t been for a long time. When she’d been on the run in the States, she couldn’t use any of the management skills she trained for. Instead her drive and ambition had been reduced to a collection of menial jobs—salesclerk, a waitress at a bar and others she hardly remembered. Waitressing had been the best job as far as money. As long as she could handle the lewd comments and the fact that some drunk man was ogling her generous breasts, the tips were good. It wasn’t the drunk trying to feel her up as she went by that ended that career. That one she handled with a well-placed elbow to the face. The one that ended it was the drunk who tried to accost her on her way to her car and scared her to death. The assault had been prevented by the intervention of an observant bouncer and had her turning in her waitress apron. It had been that job that had brought her to the brink and eventually here, when she realized that she couldn’t run anymore.
She pushed away the thoughts of the events that had brought her here. She’d thought the whole process out one too many times in the planning and in the long hours in the hotel and now here. She had nothing to do but wait and it was driving her crazy. She’d ventured out of the suite of rooms that Talib had given her and Everett only a few times, and then only into the main quarters.
In some ways it seemed like they’d been here much longer. She was homesick but she had no home. She missed what was familiar. She missed the old life she’d once had in Casper, Wyoming, where she’d met and dated Talib.
That was all so long ago. In fact, months ago she’d given up the lease to her apartment. She’d done that when she’d first fled and put her things into storage. The items most important to her, she’d left with her parents. She’d contacted them regularly, which was how Tad had followed her. She’d stopped that once she’d learned from Talib how the app worked. Talib had given her access to a secure connection that had allowed her to let her family know that everything was fine. Interestingly, her mother had even been pleased at the fact that she was with Talib. But her mother had always liked him and she knew she’d secretly hoped, especially after the birth of Everett, that they’d get back together.
She thought of other things, of the tragedy of Tad. That just made her sad. That he’d turned bad, that he’d died, all of it. And thinking about it, she was angry, too. He’d had no right to do what he had done. But if none of it had happened she wouldn’t have run to Talib. She wouldn’t be here now knowing that she’d never stopped loving him. She wouldn’t be here wondering if she had a chance.
She shivered as she looked out onto the lush grounds. It was a beautiful day, not too hot, not too cold. She looked back at the bookshelf. The books had spared her sanity. She’d thumbed through more books in the last hours than she could remember looking at in a long time. Maybe, at some point she’d have time to read them. Talib’s sister had an eclectic taste that matched her own and she’d flipped through fiction and nonfiction with equal enthusiasm. Other than the books she’d felt awkward living in an apartment among someone else’s things. And now, she felt like she was going stir-crazy.
It was early afternoon. Lunch was over and the day stretched out and with no clear objective to complete, it seemed endless. Everett had fallen asleep in the middle of the story she was reading him.
She settled down with a book but she couldn’t concentrate. Her thoughts were everywhere. She wanted to be free to move around. She needed an objective, something to do. She was restless. One could only stay locked up for so long. She wasn’t sure how zoo animals survived. But then she’d never believed in either the fairness or the rightness of locking another being up—even another species. That was why Everett had never been to a zoo in his young life, nor would he if she had any say.
Any say.
She put the book down, the words she’d just thought haunted her. It was the fear that one day, in her pursuit of her son’s safety, she might give up her say in who he was and who he might become. One day, she might have no choice. It was her worst fear. It was why she’d kept him a secret when her heart knew she should have told Talib a long time ago. She didn’t want to think about that. Instead, she forced herself to concentrate on other things, on the book she’d spent fifteen minutes selecting.
A little while later she nodded off.
* * *
“WE’VE GOT YOUR suspect who set the explosive device,” Talib said as he leaned against the wall of Ian’s office. “I just spoke to the police and they’ve made an arrest.”
“That’s a relief,” Ian said, but he looked at Talib. “But it’s not over, is it?”
“No. The suspect was hired by a man named Habib. No last name, at least not one that’s available. I’m fairly certain it’s the same man I’ve been investigating the last few days.” He didn’t go into details. Ian was a good friend, but there were some things he couldn’t share. Something so critical to the investigation was one of them. In a way, keeping the information close to his chest protected everyone’s best interest.
“I assume he’s been arrested?” Ian asked.
“He has. I think Habib will be, too. It’s only a matter of time. A very short time,” he said.
“What about Sara?”
“She’s safe,” Talib replied.
“You’re pretty closemouthed about this. But I get it. You’re deep into a case.” He stood up. “Look, they’re upgrading some of the surveillance cameras this afternoon.” He held out his hand. “Thanks for arranging that.”
“We’ll have you rock-solid by the end of next week,” Talib said as he engaged in a brief handshake.
“Odd,” Ian said. “Five days ago you were planning a joyride into the mountains. Now...”
“Everything has changed,” Talib said.
“Everything,”
Ian replied. “But you’ll make it right, man. You always do.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“T,” Emir said as soon as Talib answered his phone. “There’s trouble at the compound.”
“Damn, I’m nowhere near.” Talib’s jaw tightened. Emir was out of town. Because he was handling a code red case on his own Emir had compensated by continuing to field office calls. This call had come from their administrative and research backbone. If this hadn’t been a code red, he would have taken on that duty in Emir’s absence.
“The alarm just came in,” Emir said. They had the security alarms feeding directly to the office. There, staff would immediately relay necessary information to Emir and any other relevant agents. It was a relay system that took mere seconds. Security was top priority. It was their livelihood and a service they sold. Their reputation hinged on the fact that it was as tight as it could be. But no security was airtight.
His grip on the phone tightened until he was threatening to break the plastic.
“The power’s out, T. It went out exactly forty seconds ago. It appears there was a break in the line just outside the main fence, cutting off the entire compound. The generators should be cutting in immediately, but...”
“Even a few second delay is enough to breach the security,” Talib said. This was unbelievable. They had considered every angle except this. “I’m five minutes away. Get the guardhouse on alert. Get them to secure...”
“I tried. There’s no answer,” Emir replied. “Drive like a sane man, T.”
They were the last words Talib heard. He’d disconnected and was testing the limits of the BMW as he navigated the obstacle course of cars. He needed to get onto the freeway and make time. Five minutes away. It had to be less. He had to make it in four, three even. A truck pulled out in front of him.
He laid on the horn and the driver seemed to take that as a challenge and slowed slightly as a car passed him on either side, preventing him from pulling out. Finally, in what seemed like minutes but was only seconds, he was able to pull out and pass. He didn’t bother giving the driver a look, a blast of the horn, anything. His concentration was solely on the road and on getting to the compound. And in all that time his mind could only think of Sara as he’d last seen her and Everett.
He had a son. He’d had little time with him and the fates couldn’t be so cruel. Wouldn’t be that cruel that he would lose him now. He’d get there on time or he’d die trying.
* * *
SARA WOKE WITH a start. She’d been napping like the very old or the very young, having fallen into a sleep that was deep and uninterrupted by dreams. The kind of sleep that had you waking up foggy, wondering where you were and how long you’d slept.
But something had awakened her. The book she’d been reading and that had slipped into her lap while she slept fell to the floor. She picked it up and set it on the small table beside the couch. She was still, listening, wondering what it was that had awakened her. There was no sound from down the hall, where Everett slept. But she knew it hadn’t been him. It had been something else.
“Is anyone there?” she called, wondering if one of the servants had come to check on them or even if Talib had come back.
Silence.
Yet something wasn’t right. She could feel the change in the air, like it was real and tangible when in fact there was nothing. She couldn’t take any chances, especially considering all that had happened. Her instincts were on alert. Something was wrong. She couldn’t see or hear it, but she could sense it.
She tiptoed to Everett’s room and opened the door to peek in. The room he was in had no window. He was sound asleep. He was safe. Still, something wasn’t right.
She went back to the main area. Again she heard something, a whisper of sound against the window. It was closed, but she knew something was off and she didn’t like that she couldn’t identify what it was.
It had to be one of the servants. She was just being paranoid, but despite how logical and safe that sounded, she was unable to convince herself. Her heart pounded as her imagination amplified the danger. She was backing up, putting herself between whatever her imagination was conjuring and her son.
“Hello?” She had to fight to keep the quaver out of her voice.
She knotted her fists and scanned the room, grabbing a tennis racket from a shelf at the bottom of the bookcase. It was out of place, something she’d meant to put back and another thing that had been rearranged by her busy son.
Everett.
She began to move more determinedly backward, toward his room, her eye remaining on the door. Should she call out? It was probably nothing. But the longer this went on, the more real it seemed to become.
Silence reigned. The seconds ticked by. She barely breathed but the sounds she heard just a few moments ago didn’t repeat. It had been her imagination. She blew out a sigh of relief but still stood where she was, just in case.
Bushes rustled just outside the terrace doors.
She wanted to rush to Everett and yet something told her that would be the wrong thing to do. She was basing the thought purely on instinct. And other than the tennis racket, she was defenseless. But the logical side of her mind told her there were at least twenty-five people in this compound at any given time. The sheer numbers, never mind the security that was in place, made her feel safe.
It was nothing. She was being ridiculous. She looked over to where there was a call pad to page one of the servants or the guardhouse. It was usually lit up. She went to pick it up—nothing. It was dead. She grabbed her phone. She’d call the main number for the guardhouse. They might think she was crazy but she didn’t care. Everett’s safety was her main concern.
She had the phone in one hand and the racket under one arm when someone grabbed her around her neck and she was yanked back. The phone clattered to the tiles. Whoever it was, he was male, his arm thick and hairy. His hand was over her mouth and she was dragged through the apartment and down the hall that ran on the other side and away from Everett’s room. She didn’t scream, not wanting to awaken him, grateful that the danger was moving farther away from her son.
“Your boyfriend is a fool.” The man’s breath was like the rancid smell of rotted fish guts on her parents’ dock. Something hard knocked against her temple. She could only assume that it was a gun.
She almost choked but instinct told her that would only enrage him. It took all her willpower not to.
“But then he always was, even when we were children.”
He took his hand away from her mouth. “Who are you?” She struggled to regain some control, to stand up straight and take some of the pressure off the painful tugging of her hair that was caught beneath his arm, making her eyes water. Between that and his foul breath and the fear racing through her, she couldn’t think. She needed to think, to get herself out of this jam and keep Everett safe.
The apartment was so large and initially, with Everett she liked to be close to him, and not being so had disconcerted her. Now she was glad for the distance. Everett couldn’t hear what was going on, he wouldn’t cry and bring attention to his presence.
But the moment she thought that, she heard him call her.
No, no, no, sweetheart. Ev, please no. Her head hurt as she tried to send the thoughts to her son. But she knew it was useless, she wasn’t psychic and neither was her son.
“Your boy?” he asked almost pleasantly and went on without her answer. “Let’s go get him,” he said.
Instinct told her to play coy, to buy time. “Who?”
“Al-Nassar’s heir.”
“I have no idea who or what you’re talking about.”
“Your kid.” He yanked her head back painfully by her hair and her eyes watered.
“He belongs to me.”
“Tad said otherwise,” he said. “I don’t hav
e time for this. Move.” He pushed forward, not releasing his grip on her and making her stumble. “Give me the boy and I’ll let you go.”
Never, she thought. Play along, her sane, less panicked side told her. Buy time.
She heard scraping, what sounded like the murmur of voices—she wasn’t sure. It was too faint. Maybe it was only her imagination. The door was old and heavy, the construction of the entire mansion such that sounds didn’t travel well through closed doors.
Then she did what she told herself would only enrage him, but she needed to do something, because maybe in some way it would buy her some time.
She dug her nails into his hand and the grip around her neck only tightened and she choked.
In another hallway, yards away from her, Everett wailed.
She had to think. It was on her. She needed to get them out of this and she had no idea how.
Chapter Thirty
Talib’s finger had been poised to ring the bell to the suite. This was Sara’s home for now and he wouldn’t invade it. Before he could press it, he heard his son crying. The baby monitor was hanging from his belt, where he’d put it yesterday and where it was whenever he was in the compound. He’d taken no chances with security, or so he’d thought until the power had gone out. Another minute and he knew it would be back up. It should have been back up already.
He frowned at the sound of his son’s cries. Because the child wasn’t crying at all. Instead they were shrieks of anger and frustration. Something was going on that he didn’t like. He expected to hear Sara’s voice comforting the boy. She never let him be upset for any length of time. She’d told him that she didn’t think it was healthy.
Everett’s cries escalated, but he heard nothing of Sara. Something wasn’t right.
“Son of a...” Talib had his fingers on the keypad and unlocked the outer doors. But the key wouldn’t go into the inside door’s lock. It was jammed. Alarms were ringing in his head. All of this was pointing to something very wrong, something very bad. His family was in danger.
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