Spy Away Home (The Never Say Spy Series Book 10)

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Spy Away Home (The Never Say Spy Series Book 10) Page 32

by Diane Henders


  I slumped onto the toilet seat and sat staring blankly while he disposed of the condom and then wiped the condensation off the mirror, twisting to inspect the fresh scratches on his back.

  He chuckled. “Good grief. Maybe I should wear my bike jacket next time.”

  My face smiled without me and my voice came out low and sexy. “Mmm, I love a man in leather.” I straightened as realization struck. “Oh, shit, I forgot to tell Arnie I’m here. He’s going to be at my place at ten o’clock.”

  Kane smiled, but uncertainty lurked in his eyes. “I’m not sure if I like the way you made that connection.”

  Laughter rolled out of me, deep and convincing and utterly fake. “Don’t worry. I’m with you now. I told Arnie quite a while ago that if I made a commitment to you, it would be exclusive and permanent.”

  His smile widened. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Well, then, I’ll just have to keep saying it.” I dragged myself upright. “Could you call him, please? I’m going to dry my hair, and then I need to go and find some clothes.”

  He nodded and kissed me lingeringly before he withdrew, and I turned to face my reflection in the mirror, trying not to look it in the eye. With my hair more or less dried, I tottered back to the bedroom and managed to haul myself into my clothes. I emerged dressed just as the doorbell rang.

  Thank God I couldn’t feel a thing. Now I just had to get through telling Arnie that the ‘benefits’ part of our friendship was over…

  The rumble of male voices drifted down the hall and I squared my shoulders and padded toward them, rounding the corner into the living room.

  Hellhound’s face lit up at the sight of me but as I neared him his smile fled, leaving worry in its place.

  “Jesus, Aydan,” he rasped. “What the hell’s wrong?”

  Chapter 42

  “Nothing’s wrong.” I gave Hellhound my most convincing smile.

  He frowned. “Bullshit.”

  “No, really. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.”

  Hellhound gave me a worried look before turning to Kane. “Cap? What’s goin’ on?”

  “Nothing.” Kane slipped an arm around me. “Everything’s fine. Great, in fact.”

  Hellhound cast a suspicious glance around the room before pantomiming ‘are we bugged?’ with a hand to his ear and a sweeping gesture.

  “No, we’re not bugged.” Kane frowned at him. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Fuck, Cap, everythin’ sure as hell ain’t fine.” Hellhound gestured toward my face. “Look at her. I ain’t seen eyes like that since that hellhole prison camp… in…” His words trailed off, his gaze flicking to Kane’s arm around me. “Aydan?” he asked softly. “What happened, darlin’?”

  My face smiled easily and my words came out warm and happy. “You’ll be glad to know I finally brained up and took your advice.” I turned my smile up to Kane. “John and I are together now. Permanently.” I didn’t even choke on the last word. If I’d been capable of feeling anything, I would have been proud of myself.

  Kane smiled down at me and dropped a kiss on my lips before turning to Hellhound, his arm tightening around me. “Thank you,” he said. “Aydan told me how you’ve been helping her get over her fear.”

  “Aw, fuck,” Hellhound whispered. Stepping closer, he cupped my chin with a feather-light touch and gazed down into my eyes.

  I gave him my best smile and he recoiled.

  His hands dropped away, clenching into fists by his sides as he glared at Kane. “What the hell did ya do to her?” he ground out.

  Kane stiffened. “What are you implying?”

  “I ain’t implyin’,” Hellhound growled. “I’m sayin’ flat out.” He turned back to me and his voice softened. “Darlin’, what happened?”

  Anxiety crept through my protective layer of numbness. Oh God, he wasn’t going to cause problems, was he?

  “I took your advice.” I tried to keep the plaintive note out of my voice, but I didn’t quite succeed. “This is what you wanted. This is what he wanted.”

  “An’ what d’you want, Aydan?” His voice was dangerously quiet.

  I avoided the question. “Arnie, I’m with John now. I told you; when that happened, nothing you could say or do would change it. Please, just be happy for us.”

  Kane’s arm tightened around me. “Look, Arnie, we’ve been friends… family… for decades. Don’t spoil it with jealousy.”

  “Jealousy?” Hellhound scowled. “I ain’t fuckin’ jealous. I’m sayin’ ya mind-fucked her. Now tell me, what the hell did ya do?”

  “It looks like jealousy to me,” Kane said coldly. “You can’t commit to anyone, you endanger Aydan’s health by screwing around on her whenever you get the chance, but yet you’re begrudging me happiness with her. Why? Because I’ve stolen one of your harem?”

  Hellhound flushed, his eyes narrowing. “I ain’t ever endangered her health. I always use protection. Always. An’ look who’s talkin’, ya fuckin’ hypocrite. I ain’t been with anybody but Aydan since last fall. How many has it been for you?”

  Oh, no. This can’t be happening…

  Kane didn’t reply, and Hellhound went on, “Yeah, ya don’t wanna answer that, do ya? ‘Cause I know for sure you’ve had at least two; prob’ly more. An’ I bet ya weren’t too fuckin’ careful with the condoms, were ya?”

  It was Kane’s turn to redden. “I was undercover. I didn’t always have a choice. And I got tested right after-”

  “Oh, that’s fuckin’ great! Don’t gimme your fuckin’ bullshit excuses-”

  “Guys,” I interrupted. “Please don’t do this.”

  “I’m not making excuses,” Kane snapped. “I had to do my duty whether I liked it or not, but that’s over now. And you can just be happy for me and my fiancée.” His arm jerked tighter around me and a squeak slipped from my lips before I could prevent it.

  Hellhound’s eyes blazed. “‘Your fiancée’. So she ain’t even got a name anymore. She’s just your fuckin’ property now, is that it? Let her go!”

  Kane flung his arm open. “There. I let her go. Do you see her running? Are you happy now?”

  “No, I ain’t fuckin’ happy-”

  I drew a breath, my pulse kicking higher at the sight of Hellhound’s glare even though it wasn’t directed at me.

  “Arnie, don’t,” I pleaded. “Please, just-”

  “You see?” Kane demanded. “You always say Aydan won’t lie to you. So ask her. Ask her what she wants.”

  Hellhound gave me a long look, his hand rising as if to touch my cheek before dropping to his side. “Aydan ain’t in there anymore,” he said quietly. “Look in her eyes. All that’s left is somethin’ that looks like her. She’ll say whatever ya wanna hear.”

  “That’s ridiculous-” Kane began.

  “Oh, yeah?” Hellhound interrupted. “I don’t fuckin’ think so. I think ya broke her. I think ya saw your chance an’ ya took it.”

  I tried again. “Arnie, please, let it go.”

  “When was it, darlin’?” he asked gently. “I’m guessin’ two nights ago, right? When ya said he wouldn’t take ya home.”

  I swallowed hard. He’d see through any lie I told, but I had to protect Kane’s feelings…

  Kane barked, “You’re crossing the line, Helmand.”

  “Don’t gimme that fuckin’ bullshit!” Hellhound’s fists bunched, the last trace of his usual easygoing humour vanishing in a menacing scowl. “You’re the one that’s ‘way fuckin’ outta line here!”

  I had never seen him truly angry before. I fell back an involuntary step.

  Only an inch shorter than Kane, he made up the difference in bulk and bulging muscle. His bearded battle-scarred face and tattoos made him intimidating at the best of times, but with the habitual twinkle gone from his eyes he looked exactly like what he was: six feet three inches of stone-cold killer.

  “Lemme guess how it went down,” he grated. “Ya found her out in the woods soakin’ wet an’ half
dead from hypothermia so ya brought her back here. Ya knew she’d had the day from hell. Fightin’ flashbacks, pukin’ her guts out-”

  “What? No, I didn’t know about any of that,” Kane protested, throwing a frown in my direction.

  “Did ya ask?” Hellhound barked. “No, ya fuckin’ didn’t, did ya?”

  Kane tried to speak but Hellhound talked over him. “So ya dragged her back here knowin’ she was completely fucked up. Did ya at least let her warm up before ya made your move? Give her somethin’ to eat?”

  “Of course I put her in a hot shower. And I made her a hot chocolate but she didn’t drink it.” Kane gave me another look.

  “Arnie, please let it go,” I begged. “I’ve made my promise to John and nothing’s going to change that.”

  “Your promise doesn’t count if it was coerced, darlin’,” Hellhound rasped.

  “For God’s sake, I didn’t coerce her!” Kane shouted. “Goddammit, what is your-”

  Hellhound ignored him and went on relentlessly, “An’ why didn’t she drink the hot chocolate? ‘Cause she was tryin’ to get ya to take her home, wasn’t she? An’ ya wouldn’t.”

  They were glaring at each other from close range now, fists clenched and faces reddening.

  The last of my ability to care slipped away.

  They’d work it out.

  Or they wouldn’t.

  I couldn’t change it, and if I stayed I’d only make things worse. I sidestepped toward the back door.

  “So she asked ya to take her home,” Hellhound ground out. “An’ ya said no. So she was trapped. An’ then what? Did ya at least give her a hug?”

  “Of course I…” Kane trailed off as if remembering he hadn’t.

  “Oh, that’s nice! That’s real fuckin’ nice!”

  I was almost at the door.

  “An’ I bet she asked ya for comfort, didn’t she? Just a bit a’ comfort in bed after a fuckin’ hellish day. An’ I bet ya wouldn’t give it to her.” Hellhound’s tone changed to a mocking imitation of Kane. “‘No, Aydan, I’m such a sorry bastard I can’t think ‘cept with my fuckin’ dick so I ain’t gonna give ya even a fuckin’ speck a’ comfort unless ya gimme your whole fuckin’ life in return…’ Didn’t ya?” His voice rose to a full-throated bellow. “Didn’t ya? Ya froze her, kidnapped her, starved her, mind-fucked her; did ya fuckin’ waterboard her, too, just to make sure she’d break? Ya fuckin’ asshole!”

  Kane’s fisted knuckles turned white. “Goddammit! You have no right…”

  I scooped up my jacket and shoes and slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind me. As I stooped to tie the laces I could hear their voices booming through the wall, louder and louder as if to vanquish each other through volume alone.

  Please don’t let them hurt each other…

  Blinking at the tears that blurred my eyes, I stumbled down the steps and slipped out the back gate. With no clear idea of where I was going, I started to walk.

  “Arlene?”

  Adrenaline punched into my veins at the sound of my alias and I snapped my head up, my hand going for my waist holster before I identified the speaker stumbling up the back alley.

  Eleanor Parr.

  She was a mess. Thin and haggard, her eyes were desperate under unkempt blonde hair. Her expensive clothes were rumpled and the cool composure I remembered was long gone.

  “Wha…?” I began.

  A sharp hot crackle burned the middle of my back and everything tumbled into chaos.

  Chapter 43

  Through the jumble of misfiring nerves I vaguely registered a hard impact on my side before everything went dark with a thump.

  Trunk.

  They’d shut me in the trunk of a car.

  A male voice growled, “Do it or else.”

  The only response was a whimper from Eleanor Parr before the suspension dipped as though someone had gotten into the driver’s seat. A moment later the engine fired up and we were moving.

  Every nerve zapped and fizzed, my body twitching and shivering uncontrollably. My heart hammered and my breath came in sobbing gasps, whether from the effect of the Taser or my own terror, I couldn’t tell.

  We rounded several corners and my body flopped helplessly with the motion of the car. The too-familiar bite of nylon ties told me my hands were bound behind my back. My twitching diaphragm strangled my screams to breathy whimpers.

  Maybe there was an emergency trunk release. But folded into the confines of the trunk with my hands tied and my muscles alternating between uselessly limp and spasming in painful jerks, I couldn’t find it.

  We made one last turn before the car accelerated smoothly.

  On the highway. But headed where?

  Panic clawed my chest. Were Kane and Hellhound still fighting? Had they even noticed me leaving?

  But even if they had, they’d have seen me walking away alone. They’d assume I’d gone off in a huff. They likely wouldn’t come after me; they’d just wait for me to cool down and come back.

  And worse, my waist pouch was still in Kane’s house. No knife to free myself even if I could have controlled my muscles enough to wield it.

  Shallow hysterical panting seized me and I fought my bonds with what little muscle control I could summon.

  Flopping and twitching uselessly, I realized the trank pistol was gone from my waist holster. They must have seen my aborted grab for it and disarmed me before they put me in the trunk. I’d missed that part while my brain was short-circuiting.

  And now they had a classified weapon.

  I groaned aloud. If I somehow managed to survive this, Stemp was going to have my hide.

  The car slowed, then turned. The crunch of gravel under the tires told me we’d left the highway. That probably meant we’d be arriving at our destination soon.

  I forced down panic.

  Think.

  We hadn’t been on the highway for more than ten or fifteen minutes. I had no idea which direction we’d been travelling, but it couldn’t have been much farther than the drive to my farm. So where were they taking me?

  And what was the ‘it’ that Eleanor Parr was supposed to do?

  My muscles were finally coming back under my control, and I clamped down on my panting and forced myself to draw a slow deep breath. Then another.

  Stay calm. Figure it out.

  What did Eleanor have to do with this? If not for the man threatening her I would have assumed she was part of the plot, but it seemed she was a victim. So who would force an influential woman like Eleanor Parr to do their bidding? And how?

  And how the hell did they find me at Kane’s house?

  My breathing accelerated again as a terrifying thought occurred. Oh, God. Brock knew Kane and I were together. He’d seen us leaving the office, and the next day he’d seen me driving Kane’s SUV.

  And worse, my abductor had used a Taser instead of killing me outright. That meant they wanted something from me before I died…

  Oh, God, no.

  Brock had sold me out to Fuzzy Bunny. They’d torture me until I gave up everything. And nobody was coming to save me…

  The car slowed and jounced over several large bumps.

  With all my will I fought the debilitating fear.

  Think.

  My legs finally cooperated enough to move with some degree of control. Not bound. Thank God. I could kick, and run. Maybe. If the nerves weren’t too scrambled to relay instructions from my brain, and if the muscles weren’t too fatigued after their violent spasms.

  I eased my leg up and down. Come on, you can do it…

  My heart leaped as my shoe caught on a hard object strapped to my ankle. Unbelievable. They hadn’t taken my Glock. They must have assumed the trank pistol was my only weapon.

  Some more squirming made my momentary elation fade. Despite contortions that made my muscles scream, I couldn’t reach my gun. I was wedged too tightly in the trunk.

  Fighting residual spasms, I twisted and thrashed, the ties cutting into m
y wrists. Had to get… that… gun…

  My breath came in hard gasps and sweat poured off me, stinging my eyes and burning the abraded skin on my wrists.

  The car stopped.

  The doors opened and thumped closed. A moment later a heavy pounding above my head made me flinch.

  “Hey in there!” The man’s voice again. “I’ve got a gun. Make one wrong move when I open the trunk, and you’re dead. Got it?”

  My frantic efforts to retrieve my Glock changed to frantic efforts to work my pant leg down over top of it again. If they found it, I was doomed.

  If I could have gotten my legs under me I might have been able to launch myself at him when the trunk opened, but my back was to the opening. And my movements were still uncoordinated…

  The trunk latch popped, and in a last-minute decision I lay motionless and silent.

  Well, almost motionless. A spasm rippled down my leg and another twitched my hand.

  “Still out of it,” the man grunted. “Fine.”

  Nothing happened.

  What the hell? I hadn’t heard him walk away. Surely I should have heard footsteps, or at least the rustle of cloth. I strained my ears, but couldn’t hear any movement. A whiff of Eleanor’s perfume wafted on the breeze, but if she was there she didn’t say anything.

  If they weren’t concerned about being spotted with an unconscious woman in their trunk, where the hell were we?

  “Maybe she’s dead.” Eleanor spoke at last. “If you’ve killed her…”

  “She’s not dead, Blondie. I can see her breathing.”

  Damn, they couldn’t be more than a few feet away. Just standing there watching me in silence. That was almost creepier than being shut in the trunk.

  I forced myself to lie still, fighting to keep my breathing slow and even. Stall, stall…

  I heard a small clink followed by something dragging across cloth. Like the sound of…

  Oh, shit.

  A belt being removed.

  The man spoke. “Hit her.”

  A sharp blow across my ass wrenched a cry of shock and pain out of me. The memory of a whip slashing red-hot paths across my skin sent helpless shudders through my body.

 

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