He turned back to the window and gazed out, searching the gloom. Something was coming.
Charity ducked into the doorway of an abandoned building and huddled close to the crumbling wall. It wasn’t much protection but it was better than being out on the street. Getting out of the inner city had been much easier than she’d anticipated.
Earlier today, she’d packed her knapsack and waited until well after dark before making her way to the edge of the inner city. She’d sneaked past several patrols within the city, but had managed to make it to the Gate without incident. She’d stood there for an hour, wondering what she was going to do. A security officer manned the station that controlled the opening and closing of the exit. Several other guards were positioned nearby as well, keeping a continuous watch on the surrounding area. It had seemed hopeless.
Just as she had almost convinced herself that this was a stupid idea and she should try to make her way back home and forget her ill-conceived plan, a garbage vehicle had pulled up. The man driving the large metal vehicle obviously knew the guard stationed at the gate and the two of them had stopped to chat. Without giving herself time to think, Charity had taken a quick glance at the guards to make sure they weren’t watching, darted out of her hiding spot and climbed into the back of the garbage vehicle. She’d crouched there, hand over her mouth and nose, trying not to breathe too deeply.
Her limbs had begun to tremble, her entire body shaking so hard she was afraid someone would hear the chattering of her teeth. She was deathly afraid of being caught. What she was doing would be considered treason. Punishable by execution.
After what seemed an eternity, the vehicle had lurched forward. Once it was out of sight of the guards, she’d jumped from the back of the moving vehicle and rolled to the side of the road, hiding in some low bushes. Her escape was complete.
A sound caught her attention, bringing her back to her present situation. She flattened herself against the rotting wood of the building, trying to make herself smaller. The world outside the Gate was so different from the one inside the inner city. The air was thicker, harder to breath. It was also dark. There was no artificial lights out here, only the sliver of the moon. It was also dirty and cold.
Charity shivered as the noise receded. She must have been out of her mind to think she could come here and simply find this Adrian person and pass on the message from Manuel.
What would she do then? She hadn’t thought about that at all. She’d simply panicked after seeing her father’s latest act of brutality, knowing he planned to use her as a pawn in his own games. If she stayed, she’d be married inside a month, two at the most.
No, live or die, she’d made the right choice. Better a few hours of freedom than a lifetime of none. But where to go? She wasn’t totally stupid. She knew it wasn’t safe for her to be roaming around the ruins of the outer city by herself. Especially at night.
Male voices caught her attention and they were getting closer. Charity crouched down, trying to make herself invisible.
“Everything is quiet tonight.”
“I haven’t seen anything unusual.” This voice was younger, more like a teenager’s.
Charity inched forward slowly, peeking around the corner of the doorway where she hid. In the distance she could make out two dark shapes.
“I’m heading back to base and report to Adrian. How about you?”
Charity’s ears perked up when she heard the name Adrian. Could this be the same man she was looking for? Surely it wouldn’t be this easy to find him. She was so busy trying to shift closer so she could hear better, she almost missed their next exchange.
“I’m going to take one last look around. You go ahead.”
“Be careful, Mouse,” the older man admonished.
“Always,” the teenager replied.
Squinting to try to see into the darkness, Charity watched as the older man started walking away from where she was hidden. The teenager was standing in the road one minute and the next he was gone. She blinked, sure she must be mistaken, but he’d disappeared.
A few seconds later, a low voice came from just off to her left. “I know you’re there. I have a gun. Come out with your hands up where I can see them.”
Pure terror swamped her. What should she do?
“Now.” The voice was stern, but young. This was the teenager the other man had called Mouse.
“Please,” she began and then stopped. Begging didn’t help. She’d learned that lesson years ago, first at her father’s hand, then her husband’s. Men did whatever they chose to do with little regard for what a woman wanted.
“Come out.”
Making certain her knapsack was secured on her back in case she needed to make a run for it, she raised her hands and stepped out into road.
“Who are you?” The voice was coming from off to the right now. She swiveled her head but still couldn’t see him.
“Charity.” She swallowed hard. It was now or never. “I have a message for Adrian.” She sensed the teenager’s interest and pressed on. “It’s from Manuel.”
She heard the swift intake of breath. “You know where Manuel is? You’ve talked with him?”
Charity nodded and then realized that the youth wouldn’t be able to see her. “Yes. He told me to give a message to Adrian. Only Adrian.” That wasn’t strictly true, but no one else knew that.
The teenager stepped out of the shadows, hand extended. In his grip was a gun of some kind. He motioned to her. “Take off the pack.”
She hesitated and he came closer.
“Look, lady. If you want to see Adrian, we do it my way.”
Slowly, she shrugged out of the pack and put it on the ground in front of her.
“Put your hands out by your sides.” She did as he asked and he moved closer, patting down her sides. He pulled her gun from her coat pocket and slipped it into his own. The knife was in her knapsack, which he took and slung over his shoulder. “Start walking.”
Charity did as he instructed. Dawn was still a few hours away and it was hard to see as she stumbled down the road, through alleys and over ruins. Several times, they paused and hid long enough for other groups of people to pass by. He’d warned her to be quiet. She wasn’t stupid. With Mouse she at least knew she was headed where she was supposed to be. They walked for at least an hour, maybe even longer. It was hard to tell. She was totally lost.
The teenager grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. She squinted at her surroundings. They seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. He let out a low whistle that was answered quickly. “Come on.” Keeping a grip on her, he led her toward what looked like an abandoned building.
It was anything but.
Inside, the light was dim, but she could see dozens of people moving around. The teenager pulled her toward a stocky man with dark brown hair. He was speaking to another man but gave them his full attention as they got closer, his sharp brown eyes missing nothing. “Who is this, Mouse?”
“She said she had a message for Adrian. From Manuel,” he added.
The older man stared at her, his eyes gone flat and deadly. She took a step back and wrapped her arms around her upper body. She was so cold.
“You spoke with Manuel?”
“Yes.”
“When?” He fired his second question at her, his impatience palpable.
“This morning.” She frowned. “Or yesterday morning since it’s almost dawn.” Had it only been less than twenty-four hours ago? Her life had turned upside down in such a short time.
“Thanks, Mouse. I’ll take it from here.” The teenager nodded, placed her knapsack on the floor and left. The older man took her arm and urged her forward. “Let’s go talk to Adrian.”
She glanced over her shoulder at her knapsack, which sat forlornly on the dirt floor. It held everything she owned in the world and, within seconds, it had vanished. She swallowed hard, realizing it would be easy for the same thing to happen to her.
Adrian heard footsteps in the hallway a
nd frowned. He recognized Derrick’s heavier tread. But there was a lighter step beside him. He rolled off his pallet and lit a candle. The light flared and settled just as Derrick knocked on the door.
“Enter.”
The door opened and Derrick entered, his hand grasped tight around the arm of a woman. Adrian’s senses exploded as he caught his first glimpse of her. His body tensed and his cock bolted to attention.
Within a split second, he catalogued her physical appearance. Average height, shoulder-length curly brown hair, light brown eyes, a pert nose covered in a smattering of freckles. Full kissable lips. The only thing to mar her features was a pale, jagged scar that ran the length of her left cheek.
Adrian wanted to know where that imperfection had come from. Was it an accident or had someone intentionally hurt her? A killing rage filled him at the thought of someone hurting this delicate creature in front of him. His hands fisted at his sides as he resisted the urge to reach out and touch her.
He shook his head to rid himself of the unwanted emotions surging through him. This was crazy. He didn’t even know who she was. He focused his attention on Derrick. “Who is she?”
“I didn’t get a name, but she says she has a message from Manuel.”
Chapter Two
Charity stared at the large, imposing man standing in front of her. There was no doubt in her mind that he was the mysterious Adrian. She finally remembered where she’d heard his name before. It was two months before her husband’s death and she’d been eavesdropping on a conversation between him and her father. What had piqued her attention the most was that they seemed to be afraid of this man.
Adrian was the leader of the Resistance, her father’s biggest nemesis.
Most people inside the Gate didn’t know much about the Resistance. The Ruling Council and the General did everything they could to downplay the threat. They didn’t want the general populous thinking that they couldn’t handle things. That would only create unrest in the inner city. And they had their hands full in the outer city.
Members of the security force kept silent about their patrols. To do otherwise would bring death and destruction down on them and their families. Still, there were always rumors and rumblings of unrest. The Ruling Council quickly squashed those. Most folks went about their daily lives and kept their heads down and their noses out of government business. It was the safest way to live.
The man before her had chosen anything but a safe course in life. He was a living legend.
He was a tall man, a few inches over six feet, with incredibly wide shoulders and a lean, muscular body. The T-shirt he was wearing clung to his torso, outlining the rippling muscles beneath the fabric. His waist was lean, his legs long.
His blond hair was cut short in the back, but was slightly longer in the front. He studied her with cool, pale blue eyes, assessing her much as she was doing to him. His jaw was strong, his nose straight. Charity stared at his mouth. Adrian’s lips were full and managed to look soft, yet firm. She wondered what they’d feel like.
The thought startled her. How could she even think about touching a man, let alone having one touch her? Her only experience with sex had been with her husband and that had been cold at best, violent and demeaning at its worst. Still, there was no denying the light fluttering in her belly and it made her uneasy.
“Who are you?” Adrian’s voice was deep and full and very compelling. He didn’t raise it, and yet he commanded immediate respect.
She swallowed the lump of fear rising in her throat. She was so tired of being afraid. “Charity.” Her voice was a mere whisper, so she tried again. “Charity,” she repeated, this time with more force.
Adrian glanced toward the man who’d brought her. “I’ll take it from here, Derrick.”
Charity sensed the unease of the other man before he nodded. “If you’re sure.”
One corner of Adrian’s mouth quirked up. She couldn’t quite call it a smile, but it was close enough to have her wondering what he’d look like if he really smiled. He was already gorgeous. How would any woman resist him if he actually smiled?
“I think I can handle it.” Adrian prowled toward her and she took a step back. He was too big, too male, too powerful. In short, he was a man just like her father and husband. She shivered and locked her knees to keep from taking another step away. She’d come this far. There was no backing down.
Charity heard Derrick leave and close the door behind her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Adrian. He was a large, sleek predator and she was very afraid that she was his prey.
Adrian circled her once before stopping behind her. She could feel his presence, the heat emanating from his large body. But more than that, she could sense the sheer power of the man. He was smart. He was tough. He was dangerous. And he was focused entirely on her.
Charity hunched her shoulders, an automatic response to the threat of having him behind her. She braced for an attack. But nothing happened. Her heart was racing, blood whooshing so fast in her ears she could barely hear above the din. Her skin was cold, clammy. The anticipation of being struck was almost as bad as the reality.
She jumped when his hand landed on her shoulder, whirled away and turned to face him. She watched him, trying to anticipate his next move.
He stared at her, his eyes narrowed. “Sit.” She swallowed hard as he motioned to a chair. “Please,” he added as an afterthought.
Her knees were shaky, so she decided it probably wasn’t a bad idea if she sat. Keeping him in her sights, she scooted past him. The chair was old and rickety, but it was better than nothing. She gripped the arms tight and lowered herself onto the seat.
Adrian prowled closer. He leaned his hip on the corner of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. He was imposing without even trying. Her father postured a lot, surrounding himself with security police who were loyal to him, bullying others. But Adrian didn’t need any trappings. This was a man who was confident in himself and his abilities. He didn’t need a full complement of men around him in order to be dangerous. He was that all on his own.
No wonder the General and the Ruling Council feared this man.
“Manuel,” he reminded her.
Tears pricked her eyes as she remembered the valiant man who’d died at her father’s hands. “He was captured by the security police and brought to their headquarters to be interrogated.”
Charity noted a slight tightening in Adrian’s jaw, but other than that he showed no emotion whatsoever.
“Go on.”
She glanced down, unable to look at him or his penetrating gaze any longer. Her pants were dirty, her boots scuffed. She huddled tighter into her jacket, wishing it were warmer. She was so cold. But at least she was alive. That was more than poor Manuel had.
“They…” She took a deep breath and plowed onward. “They tortured him. I managed to sneak in after the guards left. I thought he was dead.” She raised her eyes and stared at Adrian, willing him to understand. “There was nothing I could do to save him.”
He nodded. “I know.” Odd but his gentle agreement somehow made her feel even worse.
“He said that the General knew where you were and would be attacking in three days. I guess it would be two days now.” She rubbed her forehead. So much had happened in such a short time.
She didn’t hear him move, but suddenly Adrian was crouched in front of her, his large hands covering hers. Her head jerked up at the first contact. Part of her wanted to pull away, another part of her longed for his warmth, yearned to burrow into his strong arms and forget her problems for a few minutes. Which was crazy considering she didn’t trust men and didn’t even know Adrian. He was a stranger, someone she was delivering a message to. Nothing more.
“Is that everything?”
She nodded. “I’m surprised he could say even that much.”
Adrian’s eyes grew colder. Charity sucked in a breath and shifted back in her chair, moving as far away from him as she could, which wasn’t far. Sh
e was trapped in this chair, with Adrian in front of her.
He raised his hand and touched the scar on her cheek. She could feel the heat climbing up her face and automatically covered the long, pale streak with her hand. He clasped her fingers in his and lowered them, exposing the mark.
“Who did this?”
She ducked her head down and shook it in denial. She felt ashamed of her scar even though it wasn’t her fault. None of it was her fault.
“Who?”
She knew then that he wouldn’t let her go until she told him. She could hear it in the determined tone of his voice. He caught her chin between this thumb and forefinger, raising her face until their eyes met. His blue eyes, so cold a moment ago, held another emotion. She wasn’t quite sure what it was. Anger, but something else as well.
Knowing she had no choice, she blurted out the answer. “My husband.”
Adrian couldn’t control the blast of fury that nearly rocked him back on his heels. She belonged to another man. One who had hurt her. The urge to find her husband and kill him was almost overwhelming.
Charity belonged to him.
“Your husband?” He knew he hadn’t misheard, but he still wanted her denial.
She sighed and gave a small incline of her head. “I’ve been widowed almost a year now.”
Relief surged through him, making him lightheaded. She was free to be with him. Not like the inconsequential matter of a husband would stop him, not when he was obviously an abusive bastard.
“He hit you?”
Charity jerked her chin from his grip and glared at him. “That has nothing to do with this.”
Which gave him his answer. Her husband had abused her, probably in and out of bed. It would make his job harder, but certainly not impossible. He’d get Charity to trust him, to allow him to take her to bed and make love to her. Her screams wouldn’t be those of pain, but of pleasure.
Sweet Charity Page 2