At that moment, he wiggled from under her and rose. “ I’ll be right back.”
Casey watched him walk down the hall to the bathroom, her eyes glued to his well-defined ass. No man should ever look this good.
A few minutes later, he returned, a sexy smirk plastered on his lips. Did he grace every woman he slept with that lustful stare? Just the thought brought tears to her eyes. Why had she come downstairs to make love to Lynch not knowing if he cared for her or not? If she wasn’t just another notch on his belt?
It was stupid. But she needed him more than anything, and because she felt so betrayed by her husband she wanted to feel something else. And that something with Lynch scared her even more than her husband trying to kill her.
Lynch chose that moment to work his body back under hers, then lightly brush the tip of her nipple, and she gasped. She brought her mouth down to his and kissed him, trying to drown out the niggling thoughts that were plaguing her.
As she savored the taste of him, she rubbed her body to his, feeling his cock grow hard between them. She was going to put everything else out of her mind and spend all night in his arms. To hell with everything else.
Her hand slid down and captured the velvety shaft in her hand, her thumb moving over the head. The guttural groan from the back of his throat made her feel powerful. She tightened her grip and moved up and down his cock until his own hand stopped hers. “Reach down and get that last condom wrapper and hand it to me,” he said in a gravelly voice, pulling her up to straddle his waist.
He quickly shielded his cock with the rubber and entered her, making her moan.
She rocked on top of him, his cock so deep inside her now she could hardly breathe.
Her body took on a life of its own, grinding on him, his hands on her ass, guiding her, passion building, spiraling out of control until she came with such force she literally saw stars.
His own release came, and he grunted next to her ear, both their hearts pounding against their chests.
Some kind of ringing in the distance had them both looking at each other.
“The phone!” Casey reacted first, jumping up to race for the kitchen, not caring if she was naked or not.
“Hello,” she said, her voice shaking from exertion.
“Fucking whore,” a man said, then hung up.
Lynch came through the door, pulling up his boxers. “What?” Who was on the phone?”
“I think it was Brent.”
Lynch frowned. “You think it was?”
“I believe he was watching us.”
“Why?”
“Because he called me a whore.”
Tears filled her eyes. Maybe her husband was right. Maybe she was a whore. A stupid one at that since it was Lynch she'd just fucked, a man who would leave once he found Brent and learned why he'd gambled his and Casey's life away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lynch dried his hair with a towel and looked at himself in the mirror. He wanted to kick himself for what happened last night with Casey, though it'd been the best damned sex he'd ever had.
But she wasn't free. She was married to his ex-step-brother.
Of course that man had planned to kill her for money so that shouldn't matter. Yet for some reason it did. Maybe because of Alex. It wasn't his fault his son had problems. Some people were just born with no conscience. Not unlike Lynch's father.
Growing up, his mother had been the one who'd not only taken care of him, but worked a nine-to-five job to support her family, to include Kevin Rendell. From the beginning he'd refused to be the breadwinner. He was too busy drinking.
Lynch learned early to stay away from home. When his father was arrested for robbing a gas station, Lynch had been relieved. He no longer had to worry about showing up at the house and getting ripped in to for making too much noise. When news came that his father had started an altercation in prison with another inmate and had been killed, Lynch wasn't surprised or sad. He'd never have to deal with the man again.
His mother, on the other hand, had taken her husband's death hard. He had watched her struggle every day until she met Alex in the restaurant she worked at as a waitress. He'd come in to have lunch and kept coming back until his mother agreed to have dinner with him. The two married a year later, and she and Lynch went to live in another part of the city—a place to this day Lynch still hated. The people had looked at them as outsiders. Brent being one of them. The guy treated Lynch like he was a pariah and barely tolerated his mother. He, along with a number of prominent neighbors, cost Alex and Patricia their marriage. They refused to allow her to fit in, and it took a toll on the relationship that had lasted barely three years.
As the union was crumbling, Lynch had met and started dating Casey. He should have known better since he'd watched his own mother suffer because of feelings of inadequacies. Why he'd thought things would be different between Casey and him, he still had no idea. Totally foolish. Even now.
Daniel Wheaton still looked at him as if he were trash. Time hadn't changed anything, not even the fact he'd served his country. The man would never accept him being with his daughter.
Lynch blew out a breath. Love didn't conquer all. Never had. Never would.
Once dressed, he headed out of the bathroom and downstairs, where he found Casey in the kitchen talking to Zack, who must have returned while he was taking a shower.
“Morning. How did your date go?
Zack grinned. “Well, if you must know, it was memorable.”
Lynch glanced at Casey, who seemed to tense. Maybe he'd better change the subject.
“How about you?” Zack looked between him and Casey. “How was your dinner with the parents?”
Lynch was relieved that they were talking about Alex and his mother and not what happened between him and Casey. Every time he thought about it, his cock twitched.
“Alex stormed out. I can't say that I blame him. It's hard to think your son capable of doing something so sinister. Then Casey's father showed up. Mom and he had a bit of a disagreement and then they both left.”
“Sounds like I missed quite the night.”
An understatement for sure. It was a hell of a night. Being between Casey's incredible thighs, tasting her. He seriously wanted to have her again, but he couldn't let that happen. He had too many other things to deal with right now to let sex get in the way. Somehow, they had to draw Brent out into the open and find out if the man had an accomplice. Lynch could deal with Brent. He wasn't that smart. But if someone else was involved, that could be a whole other story. He needed to know exactly who he was up against.
“What's our next move, Lynch?”
He and his friend thought alike. “That's what I was just trying to figure out. We need to bring Brent out of hiding. How do we do that?”
“I'd say Casey, since he's trying to eliminate her, but that could be risky.”
“That's right. No way are we using her.” Lynch said it in a harsher tone than he'd intended. That alone had his friend studying him closely. When his eyes lit up, Lynch knew Zack had guessed what had happened last night.
“So, what do you suggest?” Zack winked at him.
The phone rang and Lynch turned to Casey, whose eyes widened. “Answer it. If it's the guy, tell him you have the money and want to know where you are supposed to deliver it.”
Casey nodded, then walked to the phone. “No, Daddy. Not right now. I'll call you later.”
She hung up the receiver, shaking her head. “I'm not going to be able to hold him off much longer. He's going to insist on knowing what's happening.”
Lynch rubbed at his jaw. “I want you to call the credit card company and find out if there's been any activity on that card. Especially for a motel in the area. Brent has to be staying somewhere. Maybe we can find him before he does anything crazy.”
“You mean like kill me?” Casey asked.
Lynch didn't need to answer her question. She knew.
“We'll find him before he has a chance to
do anything, Casey. I promise you that.”
“Would he really try and pull this off with so many people on his trail? It would be instant jail time.”
“Desperate people aren't thinking clearly, and I believe Brent is as desperate as they come at this point.”
“Crazy enough to kill me in broad daylight?”
“I think he's desperate enough to do whatever it takes to get that insurance money. But like I said, I plan to get to him first. Now, could you get the number for that credit card? We need to get started and we need to do it now.”
Casey left and Zack shook his head.
“You really think he'd still try to murder her?”
“Yes. Especially now.”
His friend frowned. “Why is that?”
“Because he knows his wife is sleeping with me. He has a reason besides money to want her dead.”
*
Casey paced the floor in the study, too nervous to stand still. She had no idea what Lynch planned to do now. No activity showed up on the card since the day Brent was supposedly kidnapped. What if he was wrong about this whole thing and her husband had indeed been abducted? What if what she had done had cost him his life? Casey would never be able to live with that.
The phone rang, and Casey jumped half out of her skin. She stared at the receiver, unsure if she should answer it or not. It could be her father again, and she didn't want to talk to him. He'd insist that she tell him everything, and then shit would hit the fan.
Lynch rushed into the room and pointed toward the phone. “You going to answer that?”
“What if it's Daddy?”
“You need to answer the call. It could be Brent or an accomplice.”
Casey picked up the receiver and put it up to her ear, afraid to say anything. She really didn't want to hear negative slurs or her father interrogating her again.
“Hello,” she said, then held her breath waiting to hear who was on the other end.
“Do you have the money?”
Casey's heart started to race. She turned to Lynch and nodded.
“Yes. I have the money. Where do you want me to bring it?”
“I want you to bring the cash to Metairie Cemetery alone. To Phillip Deveraux's mausoleum. It's the largest one there, toward the middle. The door will be slightly ajar. Set the bag of money inside and leave. Once I'm sure you haven't had me followed, I'll release your husband. Understand?”
“Y...e...s.” Her hands began to shake. That was the last place she wanted to go. She hadn't been there since...
The phone went dead, and Casey hung up, in a daze.
“So where is the drop spot?”
“The Metairie Cemetery.” She couldn't even look at Lynch.
Lynch shook his head. “I don't like this. There are too many places for a gunman to hide.”
“We don't have a choice.” Casey fought tears threatening in her eyes.
He rubbed at his chin stumble. “I guess you're right. Go get the money out of your safe. I'll let Zack know we're heading out.”
Casey blew out a breath and walked over to the desk, opened the door on the side and leaned down and turned the combination lock. She cranked the handle and opened the safe, pulling out the bag.
To make sure the money was still inside, she unzipped the satchel. It was all there.
She re-zipped the tote and slung the handle over her shoulder and left the room. Her heart hurt at the thought of where they were going.
Lynch was right about the city's largest cemetery. There were numerous places for one to hide. She'd be a sitting duck out there. Yet that wasn't what concerned her.
You have to pull yourself together, Casey. Just do what you're supposed to do. Put everything else out of your mind.
Brent's life could be at stake. Lynch didn't know for sure that it wasn't, and all it'd cost her was two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars of her father's money. That she'd pay back if it took a lifetime to do. That was if she had a life to live.
Casey found both men waiting for her.
Zack tucked a large handgun in the back of his pants.
“You think he's going to need that?”
“Yes. I'm not letting you go in there without some kind of protection.”
“But the guy said to come alone.”
“I don't care. You are not going into that cemetery without us. No one will even know we're there. Trust me. This is what Zack and I do for a living. We can stay hidden.”
Casey had to take Lynch at his word. She had no choice.
On the way to the drop zone, she twisted her hands on the strap of the bag, contemplating what would happen next. This could very likely be her last day on earth. If Brent was behind all this, then the money alone wouldn't pacify him, especially if he had witnessed her and Lynch's lovemaking the night before. He'd want her dead, since she had turned him down a half a dozen times before she asked for the divorce. No doubt that was why he chose to go down to the French Quarter to get some action. At that point, she hadn't cared what he did. Really, she never had. Their marriage had been a sham from the very beginning—more or less blackmail on Brent's part. He knew she'd kept a certain secret from Lynch—knew she never wanted him to know and had used it to get her to agree to marry him. Her emotional state hadn't helped either. She'd simply been going through the motions, but she wasn't really in control until she asked him for the divorce. That's when she'd finally snapped out of the haze she'd been in for close to a decade. She'd realized it was time to put everything behind her and start over. Maybe she could be happy again, beginning fresh. Brent was now a part of the past she wanted to forget. Once this was all over, of course.
“Are you okay?” Lynch reached out to touch her arm.
The contact sent a sizzle of electricity through her body. Would she ever get over this man sitting beside her, or would they always be connected?
She nodded and turned toward the window, spotting the cemetery up ahead. She was going to have to stay strong until this was over, and she could do that as long as she didn't go anywhere near her family's plot.
*
Lynch knew something besides this delivery was bothering Casey, but he was afraid to ask. She had distanced herself from him since the phone call the night before, and he wasn't about to make things worse.
“We'll be right behind you. Zack will be to your right, me to your left.”
His words made the color in her face drain away. “What's wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I'm just nervous.”
Casey was lying to him, but this wasn't the time to call her on it. She had enough on her mind.
“Do you know where this mausoleum is?”
“Yes,” she said, looking off to the left, not to the middle where he remembered that particular landmark was located. He and a few of his friends used to come out here on hot summer evenings and try and scare each other to death. They'd been run out by security every time.
Lynch looked back at Casey, who was fidgeting from one foot to the other.
“Are you going to be able to do this, Casey?”
She nodded. “I'm going in.”
Lynch watched her zigzag around the first tier of plots, then tipped his head to Zack, signaling him to take off. Lynch shot down a row of above ground graves, staying low and out of sight.
He continued toward the middle of the cemetery, knowing when Casey made it to the mausoleum, he'd need to stay sharp. Brent was going to try something—he could feel it in his bones.
He peered ahead and caught sight of his target, the granite structure, the most impressive piece of masonry he'd ever seen. This cemetery had been used numerous times in movies for the stonework alone. The place dated back hundreds of years, and some of New Orleans’s most prominent residents had been buried here. He'd heard the place took a real hit with Katrina, but volunteers had worked hard to restore the cemetery to its splendor.
Lynch tucked himself behind a large headstone and watched Casey near the door to th
e mausoleum. She ducked inside the building, then quickly returned and glanced around her.
He pulled his Glock from the band of his pants and scanned the area. He didn't see anything.
Lynch moved around the stone, watching for anything out of place. As he did, his foot hit something and he almost tripped. He quickly caught hold of the top of the headstone, the name on the front making him draw back.
What the hell?
A scream had him scrambling to get to Casey. She wasn't where she'd been in front of the building.
His eyes darted around.
Nothing. No Casey.
She'd just vanished.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Casey struggled to free herself from her confines, the rope wrapped around her wrists cutting into the skin. She flinched and fought tears pooling in her eyes. Why hadn't Lynch found her yet? She wasn't sure exactly where she was, but she was certain she was still in the cemetery.
As she'd waited outside the mausoleum, someone had grabbed her from behind, placed a strange smelling cloth over her mouth, and she'd lost consciousness.
When she woke, she found herself lying on cold stone, in the dark, a small stained-glass window her only light, her hands and feet bound. How long she'd been there, she had no idea.
She knew whoever grabbed her was coming back since the bag of money sat next to the door, taunting her.
Casey needed to get out of here.
She twisted her wrists against the rope, refusing to let the pain distract her. She had to break free before this guy returned or she'd be joining the occupants of this crypt.
A noise from outside stopped her heart. Was it the kidnapper? Was he here to kill her? If he did end her life in this crypt, she could be in here for months before anyone found her, and by then, she'd be unrecognizable.
The thought made her panic.
She rubbed the rope against her backside, thinking she'd try and work it down over her hands.
The door creaked open, and a dark figure started toward her.
Abducted Heart (Z-Series) Page 8