by S. M. Butler
“Take her downstairs,” Reilly growled.
Her body went into overdrive with the blood rushing around her head and the trembling of fear. She looked at the man sharply as his head of security came to stand next to her. “Mr. Reilly…”
“Do not test my patience right now, Miss Lawson,” he ground out. When he faced her, he was a completely different person than she remembered ever seeing. His blue eyes were livid, his lip curled in a rage-induced sneer. “You will wait downstairs.”
Seeing him like that had her stumbling out of the chair, nearly falling as Sam caught her by the arm and hauled her up against him. “Wait for what?”
Reilly’s tone was cold as he turned his back on her. “For your accomplice.”
She hazarded a glance at Alcott as he righted her onto her feet. Her heart pounded even harder as she saw the hungry look in his eyes. No, the predatory look in his eyes. Somehow, even he had managed to hide that part of himself from her. But he made no move against her as he released his hold on her and gestured toward the door. “After you, ma’am.”
She didn’t want to turn her back on him. Not after seeing that look in his eyes. She backed toward the door, her heels clicking on the floor. She suddenly wished she had worn flats to work today.
What had just happened here?
Sam led her by the elbow once they left Reilly’s office, but in the opposite way she’d come. Toward the vaults. As they approached the outer vault, Sam scanned the keycard attached to his jacket pocket by a little plastic clip and they were inside.
He scanned his card at the door she’d never been through, the one that accessed the inner vault. Then he leaned over while the system scanned his eye. Finally, he pressed his thumb against the keypad and the door clicked open with an excessive boom that she imagined had only been a boom in her ears.
As she stepped back, his grip tightened on her arm. “This way, Miss Lawson.”
So polite yet demanding. And if she understood that glint in his eyes, he wanted her to run. He wanted to chase her. And instinctively, she knew he’d enjoy it. Was anyone around her who they had originally appeared to be?
“Where are we going?” she breathed. As she glanced inside the vault, she didn’t see anything. Instead of answering, he led her through by her elbow, releasing her as he shut them in the vault. Together. Alone. Her entire body was shaking as he walked over to the bare wall and pressed his entire hand against it. There was a whirling noise from inside it. Then a click and a bang and then the entire section of wall slid away, revealing another corridor that slanted down.
Stairs. There were stairs. There was a hallway beyond that door, with cool steel metal colored walls that didn’t match the clean white of the gallery.
Her lips parted. Her lungs constricted as air became hard to find. Sam glanced back at her, waiting. She didn’t have a choice. She didn’t know what was beyond that door, or what she’d find inside that place. She hadn’t even realized there was a whole other section beneath the gallery.
“Miss Lawson?’ he asked. There was anticipation in his eyes, a look that made her realize he knew exactly what would happen if she tried to run. Except she couldn’t, could she? She glanced at the door to the vault. It was already closed. The keypad blinked red. Sam’s thumbprint and his eye were the only way out and there was no way she could get him to open it for her.
Trapped. She had no choice. No escape. Stiffening her shoulders, she walked slowly toward Sam, trying to slide past the big man without touching him. The whole time, he watched her like he was tracking prey.
22
Alcott stared at the things in his hand as he stepped into the assistant’s office. The girl’s keycard, her phone, her car keys… Anything she might have used to get out of her new accommodations.
He tossed them all on her neatly organized desk and slowly lowered himself onto her chair. Papers about all the things she did stretched out over the desk. The screen was still open to her email. Her phone had rung several times, all from an unlisted number. Did that mean Levi was on his way here?
Sam smiled as he smoothed his palms over the desk surface. He closed his eyes as the ache in his chest intensified, imagining how pretty her screams would be when the time came. If he could have used this room to do it, it would have been perfect, but they were above the basement level so the sounds would drag in unwanted attention.
No, he would have to settle for the room below where he normally worked.
But Reilly hadn’t let him play yet. They were playing a waiting game, to see when Levi would come get her. Watching the two get close while she was in Jubilee had been fun and he’d gotten off a few times when they’d snuck into alleys and the park. He even had pictures of her on her back in the park. He’d use them on her later to break her down.
He glanced at the papers. Some of them had little doodles on them, like she’d offhandedly sketched them while she spoke on the phone. One was of a man, his beard lightly stippled in, the eyes drawn wide and the mouth sketched into a cat-like grin. It looked vaguely like Levi.
Maybe it might be fun to play with him in front of her. So she could see what was to come for her as well.
If only Reilly would fucking let him. Why was he holding out on this? He’d proven she was involved. Reilly had been angry enough, yet he kept holding Sam back. It was frustrating enough that Sam was about ready to take matters into his own hands. But it was too soon. He needed Reilly to pull Hawk out of the darkness and into the light where Sam could finally, finally kill the motherfucker.
His phone rang in his pocket. He fished it out without standing and glared at the screen. “Yes,” he snapped.
“You wanted to know when he left Jubilee,” the answer came.
Sam smiled. Levi. “Where is he?”
“He’ll be in the city in about two hours at this point.”
“Well, then,” Sam replied. “Let’s go be the welcoming party.” He shoved the phone in his jacket pocket.
He picked up the girl’s jacket as he stood and pressed it against his nose. It smelled of strawberries and vanilla. Like a female. Like the blank canvas he craved. His mind raced with all the possibilities of having both lovebirds in his grasp. The delicious pain he could make with them would ease his aching chest for far longer than just one of them would, and the loss of one of his Reapers would go toward what he’d take out of Nathan’s hide once he had a hold of him.
He tossed it down on the desk, upsetting the papers and other things littering the smooth surface. First things first, though. He had to retrieve the Reaper and bring him before Reilly. Let Reilly think he had command over this situation for now. The time would come when Sam would have Reilly on his table too.
He grabbed her phone from the desk as a last-minute thought and pocketed it inside his jacket with his own. He paused by the door and called down to the vault room where the girl was being kept. The guard answered on the second ring. “No one visits the girl while I’m gone. And she doesn’t leave. Understood?”
He almost heard the gulp of fear through the phone before the guard answered. “Yes, Mr. Alcott. Understood.”
He ended the call and strode out of the room, back through the gallery and out into the parking lot where a car was already waiting for him.
23
As Jordan drove toward the city, he gripped the steering wheel tightly. He had decided he had to tell her the truth, at least his part in it. He couldn’t tell her about being a Reaper. Nathan would kill him for that. And he’d leave out the Muldoon siblings. He’d tell her that he took the card and copied it. He’d take all the responsibility. Then he would tell her to get out of the city, far away where she’d be safe.
In a perfect world, she would forgive him. But he didn’t live in a perfect world. Actually, his world was pretty damn shitty. He dialed her cell again, for the third time. Something wasn’t right here. She always answered him. Even if it was to tell him she’d call him back. But now it was hitting voicemail, over and over.
>
Could she already know? She was destined to hate him; he knew that much. Hell, he hated himself for what he did. But he owed it to her to tell her the truth in person. He had to come clean, for her own safety. Maybe this would fuck up whatever plan Bridget and Nathan had in mind. He didn’t care. He needed Penny to be safe and as long as she worked for Reilly, she wouldn’t be. Not after what he’d done. He shouldn’t have even let her leave Jubilee without telling her.
He tossed the phone into the passenger seat. The road stretched out for miles in front of him, surrounded by fields and the occasional farm. One hour to his destination, still, even if he floored it. He tapped the top of the steering wheel. What could he say to make this better for her? He’d destroyed her dream. And for that, he’d never forgive himself. He’d deserve her anger.
When he was talking to Bea, that was the one thing that stuck in his mind. He loved Penny. Loved her so much it sliced his heart in half to think about hurting her. Which was why he had to come clean. Even if she never spoke to him again, he had to do this. He had to stop being anything like his father.
A big tractor appeared in the road in front of him, just rounding over a hill. He slowed down, tracking where the thing was. It appeared to be taking the entire road up. It was a narrow road, but it was a tractor. It could travel off the shoulder, couldn’t it?
As it neared, the tractor showed no signs of moving. It just kept on moving toward him. He frowned and stepped on the brakes, gently slowing his speed. He gauged the room around the tractor. Not much. And he wasn’t in a pickup that could easily maneuver around it.
Then the tractor swung wide and blocked the entire road. He slammed on his brakes and stopped the car. He honked but the tractor showed no signs of moving. The man sitting on it waved and then pointed to Jordan’s left.
Turning his head, he stared down the business end of a 9mm. He followed the gun up to its owner. The dark-eyed man smirked. “Jordan Levi?”
Though it had been framed as a question, Jordan knew it wasn’t. The expression was too knowing, too hungry. The guy knew who he was. Seeing as he was a dead man walking, it probably wasn’t anyone from his old life. So that left his Reaper life. Someone connected to George Reilly. To Penny.
He swallowed. “Who?”
The soft click of the weapon confirmed the safety being released. The sound was ridiculously loud in this quiet country. “Step out of the car, please, Mr. Levi.”
“What’s this about?” Jordan asked as he unbuckled his seat belt.
“Slowly,” the man added as Jordan went to reach for the door.
Jordan popped the door open, which was all he was allowed to do. Another three men appeared, all with guns drawn, surrounding him and the car. Jordan put his hands in the air and slowly stepped away from the door when the man gestured for him to do so.
“So… what’s the party for?” he asked.
“Mr. Reilly would like to see you,” the man said. He gestured behind Jordan’s car. “If you would, please.”
“Well, at least you have manners,” Jordan replied. “My car, though? It’s a rental. I’d rather not have to pay the deposit back.” It wasn’t a rental, but it sounded good to say.
“It will be returned to you later,” the man said. He held his hand out. Jordan stared at it. “The keys.”
“Right,” Jordan said, nodding as he dropped the keys into the guy’s hand. A second later, they flew through the air to another guy, who caught them effortlessly. If he’d had full strength, he probably could have overpowered at least two. But the third and fourth probably would have taken him down. As it was, his leg needed more time. And he was actually a little curious as to why Reilly wanted to see him rather than kill him.
Or maybe it was a see him, torture, and then kill him sort of meeting.
“If you would,” the man said, gesturing to the car behind Jordan’s. One of the other guys got into Jordan’s car and the door slammed shut on him. At least there was a GPS chip in the car. Sierra would track it. But no one would be missing him. Not for a while. Long enough to get good and disappeared, if that was what these guys wanted to happen.
~*~*~
Penny stared at the confines of the room she was in and wanted to scream. Sam had taken everything off her. Her jacket, her phone, her keycard lanyard, even her shoes. Not that she could have done much with heels.
She curled up in the corner and watched the door. That was the only source of light she had, a square window illuminating the small closet of a room. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. That second one, she had done, once she’d realized she was alone, and they weren’t coming back for her. Her heart had finally slowed that thump-thump of fear and she knew she was in shock. She wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she did. A numbness had finally taken over and though she knew there were tears on her cheeks, she didn’t actually feel them on her skin.
As strange and scary as her situation was, her thoughts kept going to Jordan. That picture on Reilly’s computer. Both of them. From the one implicating him in the break-in to the one where he’d held her in his arms.
God, she’d been such a sap. She’d been looking forward to so many more nights with him. But really, it had been only a few weeks since they’d met. She knew nothing about him, other than he used to be a thief.
Not used to be, she corrected herself. Because he’d stolen from her.
All over again, she wanted to scream.
Her stomach rolled again. How could she be both hungry and nauseous? This was a new one for her. But as she sat there, she felt worse. She stood up and banged on the heavy metal door. “Hey, open up!”
At first, she didn’t think they would. But then the door lock clicked, and it cracked open to reveal one of the security guards she’d seen upstairs in the gallery. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“No.”
“I’m gonna be sick.”
“Tough,” he replied.
“Come on,” she growled, even as the nausea got worse. “I’m gonna be sick. Please.”
“Wait a minute,” he said, and the door shut in her face. She could hear low rumbling on the other side, though she couldn’t make it out. The whole time, her fucking stomach kept on churning.
Goddamn stress.
Then there was nothing for a long time. She banged on the door a couple more times, trying to rein in the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. The minutes passed, feeling like hours. It might have been, for all she knew. She didn’t have a watch and Alcott had taken her phone.
The door opened again, wider this time and Alcott stood there, frowning at her. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to puke if you keep me in this room much longer,” she said. “Like really puke.”
His eyes narrowed as he looked over her. He rubbed over his chest again. More heartburn, she supposed.
“Seriously,” she said. “I’m not bullshitting you.”
His gaze cased over her, like he was searching for something. Then he sighed. “Let’s go.”
She stepped out into the corridor just as his big hand closed on her upper arm. She frowned. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to manhandle me.”
“Maybe I just like the feel of you,” he sneered. “Walk or you go back in the room.”
She walked, but mostly because she felt like shit. With each step, it got worse. As she saw the bathroom, her jaw tingled with awareness. She broke free of the hold and lunged for the door. She heard the curse behind her, but then all she was aware of was her lunch emptying into the bowl. Her retches were loud, echoing in the tiled room, and she heard the curse behind her again.
Apparently, Sam was getting a show.
Hoped he liked smelling her half-digested lunch. The fucking asshole.
Sometime later, when her heaves were dry but no less powerful, she sagged against the wall. Her breath was rancid. She didn’t need anyone else to tell her that. She could taste it. And still her stomach was
doing jumping jacks and flips inside.
God, she was tired. She just wanted to close her eyes right here, except she didn’t dare. Even in the depths of her nausea, she hadn’t forgotten that she was a prisoner. That she didn’t know what was going to happen to her. That she could very easily be killed, and no one would be able to stop it. There was no one coming to save her.
“Am I going to die?” she asked in the silence, her words bouncing off the tiled walls.
Sam shifted beyond her peripheral vision and then the toilet flushed. He didn’t say anything as the flush continued. As the gurgle of the water going down the bowl echoed through the room, he walked over and squatted in front of her. “You good now?”
Right. There’d be no answer to that question, would there be. Exhausted, she nodded.
As he rubbed his chest again, he winced like it hurt him. Then he straightened and one big palm landed in front of her. Slowly, she let him pull her to her feet. His hand lingered on hers for a long moment. Then he said, “Come on. Back down the hall.”
Her legs were stiff as she allowed him to take her back to that little jail. Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? There was no furniture. No way out except the way she came in. No windows.
As she walked back into that room, Sam’s voice was soft behind her. “I’ll bring you some water. Maybe some Pepto or something.”
She glanced back at him. His face didn’t reveal anything about where his thoughts were, but his hand was pressed against his chest. Not rubbing now but sitting still over his heart. Then he left, shutting the door behind him. She sunk to the floor, back in the corner. The wall kept her from completely collapsing like a broken lump of flesh. But that’s what she was. Broken.
A new round of tears fell, and she didn’t even care when the door opened back up and a plastic bottle of water and Pepto pills were left behind. She didn’t know what was going to happen and that small act of giving her water and meds for her stupid stomach made her want to throw it all at the door instead.