Insatiable

by HELEN HARDT

  Within seconds, I heard the door to the room open.

  “Yes, Mr. Simpson?” said a female voice. She took the remote from me and turned off the TV.

  “I can’t see. What’s going on?”

  “Your eyes are swollen shut,” she said. “Here. Let me help you.”

  A few seconds later, something cold and gelatinous soothed my eyes. Heaven.

  “It’ll take about twenty-four hours for the swelling to go completely down. Right now they’re crusted shut. I’m cleaning them out for you. This will only take a minute.”

  She could take forever, as far as I was concerned. The coolness on my eyes was nirvana.

  “Okay. Try opening.”

  I forced my eyes open into slits. Her face was fuzzy in front of me. “Still blurry,” I said.

  “That’s from the tears and mucus. It’s your body healing the inflammation from the capsaicin. It will pass.”

  I nodded. What else could I do? “Joe?” I said.

  “Mr. Steel refused the sedative,” she said. “His wife is with him.”

  Of course. They would have called Melanie. I had no one for them to call. Marjorie was missing, and my mother and son were in Florida. I had no emergency contact.

  No one had come for me.

  I was isolated. Alone.

  Just like always.

  Joe and I were crack shots. We also knew how to fight like pros. And fucking pepper spray had taken us down.

  Whoever Cade Booker was, I would personally destroy him.

  After I destroyed whoever had stolen Marjorie from me.

  I had a sneaking suspicion they might be one and the same.

  Chapter Ten

  Marjorie

  “Seriously?” Alex scoffed. “Now I have to clean up vomit?”

  “Stop your whining,” Dave said. “I’ll do it. Isn’t that what I’m for, anyway? The grunt work?”

  I touched Colin’s arm. “You going to be okay?”

  “Of course I’m not okay, Marj. I’ve been kidnapped again. I’m not going to be okay.”

  I nodded. What could I say? He was right.

  “He needs something to soothe his stomach,” I said to Dominic. “Do you have any Pepto Bismol? Peppermint tea?”

  “Do we look like an apothecary?” Alex said snidely.

  “Sorry,” Dominic said. “We don’t have any of that stuff.”

  “Yeah? What if one of us gets sick? Oh! Looks like that already happened.”

  “He probably had a reaction to the drug.”

  “No, he had a reaction to the fact that he was drugged and kidnapped for the second time in his young life.”

  “We haven’t abused him.”

  “You don’t think so? Drugging and kidnapping don’t constitute abuse to you?”

  “Hello?” Colin said. “I’m here. Don’t talk about me like I’m a kid.”

  “Sorry, Colin.” He was right. He was a grown man who’d had some shit come down on him. I wasn’t his mother.

  “You haven’t been abused,” Dominic said.

  I knew what he meant. This was nothing compared to what Colin had endured at Tom Simpson’s hands. I was full of fire, though, and I didn’t feel like playing nice.

  So much for my catching-flies-with-honey idea. I just wasn’t cut out for it.

  At least Colin hadn’t gotten any puke on his clothes. He’d aimed it all at the floor. Dave sopped it up with a towel and then sprayed disinfectant on the spot.

  “I see you have disinfectant. But not an antiemetic?”

  “For God’s sake,” Dominic said. “We’re trying our best here.”

  “Try harder,” I said through clenched teeth. “You can start by telling me why you think Colin and I needed to be kidnapped—which is a felony, by the way—for our own protection.”

  “I don’t know. I’m only given the information I need.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “That’s your prerogative, but there’s nothing more I can tell you. Look. You know me. You’ve had lunch with me.”

  “Yeah, I must be a shitty judge of character,” I said. “Not once during lunch did I say to myself, ‘hmm, I think this guy might be a kidnapper.’”

  “We have more drugs, you know,” Alex said. “I say let’s knock her unconscious.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” I said. “You and I never had lunch.”

  She rolled her eyes. Again.

  “What’s up with her?” I asked Dominic.

  “She’s just being herself. It irks her that our clients don’t appreciate what we do for them.”

  “Yeah, must be difficult, when your victims don’t appreciate being drugged and abducted.”

  “That’s exactly what pisses her off,” Dominic said. “The way you’re being. Right now. I know you don’t get it, but what we do is a means to an end, and we’re paid very well.”

  “I’d imagine someone would have to pay you well to break the law. And that someone is apparently my dead father.”

  “I have no idea if your father is dead or not.”

  “I do. I watched him get shot. It’s a visual I’ll never forget. He’s very much dead.”

  “That information hasn’t been shared with me.”

  “He is, Dominic. You don’t forget something like that.”

  “Whether he is or isn’t doesn’t matter. He put plans in place.”

  “How? Who’s calling the shots, then? Why are we in danger?”

  “I already told you. I wasn’t given those details.”

  I harrumphed and grabbed another slice of pizza. I’d better eat up. Who knew when we’d get food again.

  “You feeling better?” I said to Colin with my mouth full of dough.

  “Not really.”

  “You should try to eat again.”

  “Greasy cheese and pepperoni don’t really sound good.”

  “Then try some of the crust.”

  “I can’t eat glu—”

  “Can’t? Or don’t want to?”

  He looked away.

  As I suspected. It was in his head. I tore the rim of crust off my piece of pizza and handed it to him. “Come on. It’s only plain bread.”

  He winced, clearly disgusted.

  “You have to eat, Colin. If you don’t have an allergy or celiac, this won’t make you sick.”

  Finally, he nodded and took the piece of crust and shoved it into his mouth.

  Yeah, he was hungry.

  “When will we eat next?” I asked, my mouth still full.

  “In the morning,” Dominic said. “Breakfast.”

  “We’re going to be here all night?” No way.

  “You’ll be here until we hear otherwise.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, until we receive instructions otherwise,” he said, clearly irritated. “I say what I mean, Marjorie. You don’t have to read between the lines.”

  “Right. You said exactly what you meant when we first met.”

  “I did. I told you I was a personal trainer, and I am.”

  “It’s not your primary job.”

  “So? It wasn’t a lie.”

  I grabbed another slice and ripped the crust off, handing it to Colin. Then I shoved a third of it into my mouth.

  I was done being ladylike. It wasn’t working anyway. I eyed Colin munching on the crust I’d given him. I pointed toward something with my eyes.

  Dave had set something on the table next to Colin when he’d gotten a rag to clean up the vomit.

  His cell phone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bryce

  Once we were able, Joe and I gave statements to the police. It was nearly dark when Joe—who’d declined his sedative at the hospital—drove us home in Melanie’s car. I was relegated to the back seat, but the Tesla Model X had more than enough room for my long legs.

  Both of us still had swollen and bloodshot eyes, but our vision had cleared and was nearly back to normal. Normal enough for Joe to feel comfortable drivi
ng, anyway.

  “Oh!” Melanie said suddenly.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Joe said frantically.

  “It’s nothing. A Braxton-Hicks contraction. They come on suddenly and happen more frequently during stressful times.”

  “I’m sorry, babe,” Joe said. “I’ve added a load of stress to your life.”

  “None of this is your fault.” She looked over her shoulder at me. “Or yours, before you say it is.”

  I nodded. Melanie was a good woman. She, Jade, and Ruby had married into a mess of problems—problems they’d all thought were over.

  Until Joe and I had remembered Justin Valente.

  This couldn’t be easy on Melanie and Jade especially, both being pregnant.

  “This is a big one,” Melanie said.

  “Does it hurt?” Joe asked.

  “No. It’s not pleasant, but it’s not crampy or anything. My whole belly just gets really hard.”

  “And you’re sure it’s normal?”

  “That’s what the doctor says. Plus, remember I’m also a doctor.”

  Joe nodded, his eyes still on the road. “I know, baby. But I worry about you, okay?”

  “Trust me. These are noth— Oh!”

  Joe swerved but quickly corrected it. “What? What is it?”

  “I— I think my water just broke.”

  “Turn around,” I said. “Get her to the hospital.”

  “That’s ridiculous. We’re almost home,” Melanie said. “You can drop Bryce off. We need to be thinking of Marjorie and your mother.”

  “Right now I’m thinking of my wife. If your water broke, that means…”

  “Yeah,” Melanie said. “It means this baby is coming. But we have twenty-four hours before we have to worry about infection.”

  “Infection?” Joe said. “What about the fact that your due date isn’t until— Shit!” He swerved to avoid a truck.

  Fuck! Was it too soon? I didn’t want to be the one to ask that question.

  “Thirty-two weeks,” Joe was saying, more to himself than to Melanie or me. “The baby will be okay. The baby has to be okay.”

  “Just stop and let me out,” I said. “I can walk the mile to the guesthouse.”

  “That’s silly,” Melanie said. “We can take you home.”

  The few minutes to get home seemed like hours to me, so I could only imagine what it was like for Joe.

  “Get her back to the hospital,” I said when they dropped me off. “I’ll call everyone and let them know what’s going on.”

  “You find Marjorie and her mom,” Melanie said. “We’re counting on you, Bryce.”

  My eyes still swollen and slightly painful, I ran into the guesthouse. I quickly dialed Talon and then Ryan to let them know what was happening.

  Joe.

  My best friend.

  His baby was early. Premature. I should be at the hospital with him and his wife.

  But Marjorie…

  Her mother…

  Colin…

  Someone needed to focus on them.

  And that someone was me.

  I’d be on pins and needles until I heard from Joe. Thirty-two weeks. Was that considered premature? I remembered from Henry’s birth at thirty-eight weeks that the doctors liked a woman to make it to thirty-six. Plus, Melanie was nearly forty-one. She was hot and gorgeous, but old when it came to childbearing.

  Damn! Damn! Damn!

  Now what?

  Cade Booker.

  I had to figure out who the hell Cade Booker was and why he was keeping information from us. I had no idea if he could lead me to Marjorie, but at the moment, he was all I had. Now the police would be looking for him as well.

  He’d probably gone on the run, anyway. A man couldn’t just pepper spray a Steel and walk away unscathed.

  There would have been questions.

  Lots of questions.

  Where was I supposed to begin?

  I fired up my laptop and started searching for Cade Booker. His law firm came up first. His bio was no help. It extolled his virtues.

  Right.

  Why was I doing this when I had access to the best PIs in the business? I put in a call to Ruby. She didn’t pick up, so I left her a message. She was probably out working on finding Marjorie and her mother.

  Why hadn’t I gotten the number for those PIs, Mills and Johnson, from Joe?

  I tried the search engine again. Several of those companies offering arrest records surfaced. For a mere membership fee of twenty-nine ninety-five, I could get all the information they had on Cade Booker and anyone else.

  I was desperate, so I succumbed. There went thirty bucks I’d never see again.

  Cade Booker, age thirty-eight. Same age as Joe and me.

  Relatives. Alessandra Booker, age twenty-four. Too old to be Cade’s kid. Dominic Booker, age twenty-four. Richard Booker, deceased.

  Dominic.

  I’d heard that name recently.

  Yeah, Marjorie’s trainer. His name wasn’t Booker, though. It was James.

  I was going crazy. So Marjorie’s trainer was named Dominic. Who cared?

  Cade Booker had an exemplary FBI record as far as I could tell, but he’d only been with the bureau for a couple years.

  I needed a hacker.

  The Spider.

  He still hadn’t responded to any of Joe’s or my attempts to get in touch. I’d committed his information to memory. Why not use it? I certainly had no idea where else to turn.

  I logged in to the account Joe had created to communicate with the Spider.

  And jolted in surprise.

  An email was waiting.

  Chapter Twelve

  Marjorie

  I couldn’t reach the phone, but I could create a diversion. I shoved the rest of the piece of pizza in my mouth and chewed ferociously. Then I made the best gagging sound I could and spat the contents onto the table in front of me.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” Alex spat out. “More puke?”

  I kept choking and coughing, feigning gagging. I waved my hands around, clutching my throat. I said nothing, continued to gasp.

  Someone had told me a long time ago that if you could ask for the Heimlich maneuver, you didn’t need it. What I needed now was for them to think I needed it.

  Dominic ran into the room. “Shit. What now?”

  “The dumb bitch shoved a whole piece of pizza into her mouth and now she’s choking.”

  “Help her!” Dominic yelled. “We need her!”

  “I no longer care, Dom.”

  “I do.” Dominic grabbed me around the chest.

  I looked quickly at the table. The cell phone was gone. Colin had pocketed it. Before Dominic could break my ribs, I spat a chunk onto the floor and then inhaled a deep gasp. “I’m good. I’m good.”

  Dominic let me go. “Thank God.”

  I turned to Alex. “Thanks for your help.”

  Again the eye roll. What was up with her? Then I rolled my own eyes. Stupid question. She drugged and kidnapped people for a living. I really didn’t need to know anything else to explain her behavior.

  I looked quickly at Colin, and he nodded ever so slightly at me. Good. He had the phone. Now to figure out how to get alone and make a call.

  First things first. “Thank you,” I said to Dominic.

  “She shoved a whole piece in her mouth, Dom. What was that about?”

  “I’m hungry,” I said. “How the heck do I know when we’ll get food again?”

  “I told you you’d get breakfast,” Dominic said.

  “Pardon me for not taking you at your word.”

  “I need to use the bathroom,” Colin said.

  “You didn’t eat hardly anything,” Alex said.

  “I still have to piss,” he said.

  “I have to go too,” I said. “Where’s the can?”

  “You want to go with him?”

  “No thanks. I’ll wait outside the door while he goes.”

  “I don’t thin
k so,” Alex said. “Not happening.”

  “Fine. Whatever. But I might upchuck again.”

  “There can’t possibly be anything left in you,” she groused.

  “I’ll take him to the bathroom,” Dominic said. “You stay here with her.”

  Colin would be alone with the phone. A good thing, but did he know the right number to text?

  Yes! He might not have my brothers’ numbers, but he did have Jade’s.

  Perfect.

  He’d send a text— No, better yet, he should call and leave the line open so Jade could have it traced. Would he know to do that? We didn’t have a lot of time. Dave could come back and realize his phone was missing any minute.

  At least Colin would do something. I just wasn’t sure what.

  Damn. I should have gotten the phone from him somehow. But could I have? Dave had left it next to Colin, far from my reach.

  I inhaled slowly and then let the air out. Trust. I had to trust Colin to do this right.

  Each second he was gone in the bathroom felt like hours. Pretty soon, Dominic would be pounding on the door telling him to hurry. Colin was a nervous wreck as it was.

  Please, please, Colin. Keep it together and get this done.

  I looked at my watch, which, oddly, they hadn’t taken from me. In fact, they hadn’t taken anything, really. My purse was here somewhere. It had been next to me when they removed my blindfold on the couch in what appeared to be the living room.

  I suppressed a surprised shudder.

  My purse.

  Had they gone through it?

  I had no idea.

  But in my purse…

  My security blanket.

  I hadn’t gotten rid of the blade. It was still there, nestled in its zippered cavern, waiting for me. The little pouch was invisible unless you knew to look for it, and no one except Mel and now Bryce knew my secret.

  Guilt had consumed me after I told them both I’d dumped the blade for good. Thank God I’d kept it for a very good reason—a reason I hadn’t known at the time.

  Ten minutes had passed since Colin had entered the bathroom. Ten very long minutes. If he took much longer, Dominic would get suspicious.