“I’m not going after them.”
He wobbled on his feet, but pulled the keys out and handed them to her. “You’re no fun.”
“Nope. None at all.”
She made her way through each key until finding the one that turned the lock, and then opened the door into the darkened apartment. Behind her, Stephen took a step forward but stumbled into her back, pushing them both through the entry.
“Oops.” He wrapped his arms around her and managed to keep them upright. “Sorry, Carlie. I’m not impressing you tonight, I guess. The liquor hit me harder than I thought.” He let go of her and turned on a light, revealing his cluttered living room. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
“You better head to bed. You’ll hate yourself in the morning.” She hoped he had a pounding headache for his effort. Although she didn’t want him as an enemy, she disliked his attitude toward women in general, and her in particular.
He took a step into the hallway, but tripped and bashed into the wall, sliding to the floor. “Can’t make it that far.”
Carlie was torn between leaving him there and helping him to his room. When did she become babysitter for the drunk and stupid? Then again, it would only take a few more seconds to help him. She pushed the front door shut and leaned over Stephen, starting the laborious job of pulling him to his feet.
The door at the end of the hall led to a bedroom with a king-sized bed inside. She dropped him onto it, but Stephen grabbed at her arms, pulling her down with him.
Quicker than a drunken man should move, he shoved her onto her back and climbed on top of her. “You’re always so good to help people, Carlie. I’ve been trying to get you in this bed for months.” Magically, he no longer slurred his words, and anger welled up inside her.
“Bastard! Get away from me. I thought you needed help.”
He pinned her beneath his weight and laughed. “I do need help, love, and you’re just the woman to give it to me. I trained you for weeks and got one lousy date. You never even gave me a goodnight kiss.”
“Stop it, Stephen. I’m not attracted to you.”
He shrugged negligently. “There are two ways to do this, love. I don’t mind how we get there.”
His lips crashed into hers and he forced his tongue into her mouth.
***
Nick was glad he investigated the people in Carlie’s life and knew where they all lived. He had to find her, and his first stop was Muhammad Khan’s place. After pulling up at the small, white house, he raced to the front door, pounding on it.
Who cared if the lights were off and it was after 11 at night? Nick clung to a desperate hope that he’d find her in the house plotting terrorist activities—that Paul didn’t have something done to her.
Nick repeatedly slammed his fist against the door. It flung open, revealing an unhappy man.
Muhammad hastily pulled his robe closed over boxer shorts and looked at Nick blearily. “Some people do sleep, you know?”
“You really were sleeping?” Nick’s heart fell. If Carlie wasn’t here, Paul’s other agent must have her. “Damn it!”
Muhammad wrapped the belt around his robe and tied it closed. “You’re Carlie’s new friend, right? What are you doing here?”
Why the hell couldn’t Paul trust him to do his job? If Carlie was guilty, Nick would find the proof so she could be prosecuted. The way her phone was left in the yard, it appeared Paul had her abducted—all while keeping Nick busy in his hotel room.
He ground his teeth together. Knowing what the boss ordered done to a fellow agent, he didn’t want to think about what could be happening to Carlie.
Muhammad shifted in the doorway, drawing Nick’s attention. “Is something wrong with her?”
Nick shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t get a hold of her.”
He shrugged. “I’ll give her a call, but she’s probably home in bed. We have an early morning.”
“She’s not home.”
Muhammad’s eyes widened. “Is there some sort of trouble?”
Forcing a laugh, Nick gave what he hoped was a sheepish smile. He could very well be talking to the leader of a terrorist organization about one of his star members. He needed to be careful. Paul would kill him if he found out Nick came over here like this. “Carlie’s fine, but we got in a huge fight.” He raised his eyebrows, hoping to share a ‘girls will be girls’ moment with the man.
Muhammad glanced into his house before nodding, and Nick wondered if he had a woman in there. Nick hadn’t done much surveillance on Muhammad yet, but Carlie obviously told the truth about him not being romantically interested in her.
“Anyway,” Nick continued, “she got pissed and left. Now, she won’t answer her phone. I figured she’d go to one of her friends’ houses, so I stopped by to try and make up with her.”
“Well, sorry you’re in trouble with her already, but Carlie and I aren’t really the type of friends to run to each other.” He shrugged. “Not that I wouldn’t help her, but we aren’t close. You might check with Shelley, the waitress from the shop. They’re pretty tight.”
He doubted she was with Shelley, but there was no reason to alarm Muhammad. “Good thinking. I’ll see if she knows anything. Sorry for disturbing you.”
“No problem. Hope she forgives you.” Muhammad gave him a sympathetic glance before shutting the door.
Nick feared Shelley wouldn’t have any more information than Muhammad. He climbed into his car, wondering if it would be completely foolhardy to go bang on Stephen Chance’s door instead of heading to Shelley’s house.
Before he could decide, his phone rang and he glanced at the screen. ‘The Boss’ came up and Nick’s pulse accelerated. No reason for Paul to call after already meeting him tonight. He swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“I forgot to mention something,” Paul said.
“What’s that?”
“Hmmm... Maybe you figured it out already.” Paul laughed. “You sound a bit flustered. Everything okay?”
As if you care. “I can’t get a hold of Carlie. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Carlie.” His boss spit the word, a strong reminder he didn’t like Nick getting personal. “The target is probably having some trouble right about now.”
Nick swallowed hard. “Where is she?”
“I told you we needed to speed this investigation up. I’ve made arrangements for you to be the hero, Nick. It will move this along so the President can calm down.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “I’ve been working toward gaining the target’s trust. What did you do to help my mission?” Not that Nick supposed it would be any sort of help.
“I paid someone to rough her up so you can come to her rescue. You’d better get to her house fast. I told him to take his time, but I imagine by now she’s desperate for help.”
“She’s not at her house! I was just there.” Nick punched the steering wheel, struggling to keep the frustration from his voice. “Who has her?”
“Not at her house? Well, well, well. I wonder how he convinced her to go somewhere with him. He was supposed to do it there.”
Nick took in three deep breaths, knowing he had to calm down. It would be dangerous to both him and Carlie if Paul figured out Nick was worried about her. “I can’t play the hero if I don’t know where she is, sir. Who has her?”
“Stephen Chance, the one who dated her before. She upset him and he was happy to help out.”
Nick started the car and tore down the road. It was a ten-minute drive to Stephen’s house. He hoped that’s where they went. “What, exactly, did you ask him to do?”
“I told him I didn’t care what he did, as long as she needed rescue and would be grateful to her savior. I promised he wouldn’t be hurt, so play nice.”
“I wouldn’t have promised that, boss. The target is a tough woman, and I can’t guarantee I’ll behave. I hate that jerk.” Nick shot through a red light without slowing, thankful the drunks hadn’t le
ft the bars yet and most folks were safe in their houses this time of night.
“Well, actually, I don’t care what you do to him. He was supposed to stay at her house, so you could save her and we could find out what she knows.” For the first time, Paul sounded angry rather than amused. “Just don’t kill him. That’s messy and harder to make disappear.”
S.A.T.O. had sunk to a new low—now an organization that hired jackasses to attack women and then made the record disappear. Nick hung up without saying anything further, afraid what might come out of his mouth.
He raced another yellow light, entering the intersection just after it turned red. Blue and red lights erupted from the top of the car behind him.
“Shit!” Nick considered gunning it for a second. Only the knowledge that a full-on chase would delay him longer made him pull over to the side of the road.
He readied his fake ID and a badge claiming he was an FBI agent. He’d feed the officer a story about needing to make it to a crime scene and hope it would speed up the process.
Chapter Seven
“Get away from me.” Carlie shoved Stephen’s chest. “Now.”
“Oh, come on, love.” He stroked her hair. “Having some together time is a lot more fun than what I’m supposed to do.”
Her breathing accelerated as she fought back panic. “What do you mean, what you’re supposed to do?”
“We don’t have to do what I was hired for.” He shifted slightly, though his weight still trapped her on the bed. “All you have to do is lay there and enjoy, Carlie. This will be fun. Other women can’t wait to get into my bed. Why do you resist? Don’t you want me?”
“You aren’t God’s gift to women, Stephen. Get away from me.” She took a shaky breath, but tried to put on a brave front. “If you let me go, I won’t report this to the police.” Not that she wanted the police involved anymore than Stephen probably did.
“You don’t need the police. Give me a chance. I want to show you how great things could be between us.” He covered her mouth in another rough kiss.
Carlie squirmed beneath him and beat her hands against his shoulder, desperate to get free. The killers had found her and hired Stephen to get rid of her. That was the only reason he would bring her here, pretending to be drunk, and then have something he was ‘supposed to do.’ She had to get away. She was sure his orders were to kill her after he had his fun. She wouldn’t sleep with him. Fighting was the only option.
He stroked her side, ignoring her struggles, and his tongue broke through her closed lips.
Hooking her fingers into claws, Carlie raked them across his face.
That got his attention.
Stephen jerked back. The deep gouges in his cheek filled with blood. “Bitch.” He sat up, but before she could take advantage of that, he backhanded her, full force.
Although tears blurred her vision, she rolled away. She thought karate prepared her to take a hit, but nothing could prepare her for that.
Somewhat disoriented, she managed to roll off the far side of the bed and onto the floor. Something tickled against her cheek and she wiped away a streak of blood from her split skin.
The bed creaked and Stephen’s boots made muffled thuds into the carpet. “I’ve never gone full out, you know, Carlie? Not really.” He laughed. “Since you don’t want me, I get to indulge my other fantasy. Beating a beautiful woman to death.”
His footfalls came closer and closer. Carlie scrambled to get her feet beneath her, crouching against the wall as a wave of dizziness gripped her. She’d only have one chance. Stephen could easily overpower her in a fair fight.
He stepped to the end of the bed and stared at her. A wide smile spread across his face. “This will be the easiest money I’ve ever made.”
Carlie lifted her hand to her bloody face and huddled against the wall. “Please, Stephen. Don’t hurt me.”
“Begging is such sweet music to my ears.” He took a step forward. “Too bad that won’t save you. I don’t like rejection, and I gave you so many chances.”
Her knees shook beneath her and it was hard to wait, but she had to surprise him. “Please, please, don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything you say.”
Another slow step. She could tell he enjoyed her fear, enjoyed thinking about hurting her. Another step.
“Please.”
He cracked his knuckles, smiling like an idiot. One more step.
Carlie shot up, thrusting her fist into his stomach with all her momentum.
“Oomph.”
Victorious, she didn’t stop there. Standing the rest of the way, she gripped his shoulders and rammed her knee into his crotch. Only to encounter the hard plastic of a protective cup.
The blow was still devastating enough that he collapsed on the bed, shallow gasps coming from his mouth.
Carlie jumped over his legs, intent on reaching the doorway before he recovered. She was almost there, only a few more steps.
Fingers twined in her hair. Her head snapped back, and he yanked out a chunk of hair.
Without thinking, she spun into a high roundhouse kick, putting more power behind it than she’d ever dared. More hair ripped from her skull, but she ignored the pain as the heel of her shoe connected with Stephen’s face. Blood exploded from his nose.
Though she thought for sure that would end the fight, Stephen kept his feet and lunged for her. Wrapping his hands around her neck, he rushed her into the hallway and slammed her head against the wall. A sick smile crossed his face and his fingers tightened against her windpipe.
She punched repeatedly to his gut, but it appeared to have no effect. Hot blood dripping from his face coated them both. Carlie twisted and turned, hoping the slick liquid would loosen his grip. She felt faint from lack of oxygen and didn’t know how much longer she could hold out. Colors faded and her arms were leaden. Every punch sapped energy she couldn’t spare.
It was the wrong tactic to try to fight him. She should have screamed her head off the second she got away. No longer able to lift her arms, she twisted desperately, hungering for air.
Knowing he had the victory, but apparently not wanting it too soon, Stephen loosened his grip marginally and Carlie sucked in a shallow breath. He drove his knee into her stomach three times in rapid succession then released her.
She slid down the wall. Blood rushed back, roaring in her ears as it pulsated through her head. It was over. She couldn’t fight him, not anymore. So much for standing up for herself. Carlie closed her eyes, barely having energy to take small breaths in past her raw throat.
His hands closed around her again. She struggled weakly, but all hope was gone.
Carlie wondered if her new friends would miss her. The date with Nick had been the best she'd ever had. She concentrated on the image of his brooding eyes, trying to find a happy place while she waited for death.
***
Nick squealed the Porsche’s tires as he tore into the parking lot. He jerked the car into a spot near Carlie’s Camry. Stephen definitely had her at his mercy.
Barely taking time to shut off the engine, he flung open the door and raced up the sidewalk. Tension consumed him. Even if Carlie was guilty, this wasn’t the way to handle the case. He hoped he got inside before she was hurt.
Without knocking, Nick tried the handle on Stephen’s apartment, which turned readily in his hand. He shoved it open and strode into the living room. A small moan drew his attention and Nick stepped down the hallway.
The image of Carlie on the ground, Stephen’s hands around her neck, blood covering her face, prodded him into action. He ran toward them, putting all his momentum into a kick against Stephen’s chin. Stephen’s head snapped back and he fell to the ground. Carlie gasped loudly, but didn’t open her eyes.
Though dazed, Stephen tried to stand up, but fell against the wall, blinking his eyes in an owl-like fashion. Nick leapt over Carlie and gripped Stephen’s head in one hand and his chin in the other. Blood pounded behind Nick’s temples. He’d never been so close to
losing control. One twist and Stephen would never bother Carlie again.
“Nick.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it called him to his senses.
He slammed Stephen against the wall behind them, giving a quick chop to his neck. Stephen twitched, but didn’t try to get up again. It pleased Nick to note the bastard looked almost as bad as Carlie. She hadn’t gone down without a fight.
Making his way to Carlie, Nick dropped to his knees and took her hand in his, not sure where else he could touch her without causing pain. “Hang on. I’m going to call an ambulance.” That would probably piss Paul off, because there would be more records to delete, but Nick didn’t give a shit right about now.
Her hand tightened against his. “Please, no, don’t.” Her voice was weak and a deep cough wracked her body, ending in a wheezy breath. “I’m okay, but they’ve found me. Protect me. Get me out of here.”
Did she know the government was after her? “Who found you?”
“The killers.” She made an effort to open her eyes, though they appeared weighted down and she wasn’t quite focused. “The police can’t know who I am. I need your help.”
Nick ground his teeth together, hating that Paul’s plan was effective. Carlie just let him into the inner circle. “You need a doctor.”
She shook her head gently. “Most of the blood is his. I’m dazed, but I think I’m okay. Take me somewhere safe, please. I can’t fight them. I was wrong.”
He scooped her into his arms and stood, cringing when she winced. “Who can I call for you, Carlie? Who are you working with?”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “What do you mean? I’m not with anyone. The killers found me. Help me.”
Walking toward the doorway, he tried once again. In her dazed state, he had a better chance of getting information out of her—though he hated himself a bit for doing it. “I mean, who’s helping you here in town? Muhammad?” Another thought occurred to him. “Shelley?”
“You. You’re the only one. I prayed you’d find me somehow, save me from him.” Coughing wracked her body again. “It hurts to breathe.”
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