“I did what?” My mind raced, trying to figure out when and how that happened. I’d been so careful… how?
“Last night. Before I left, you said goodbye, and you called me Toby.”
Holy shit. What was I even supposed to say to that? Wasn’t like I could deny it. He had the proof of what I’d been doing in his hand. Well, he had the proof before he deleted everything. This is what I get for listening to my clit instead of my head.
“That’s why you don’t drink. It’s also why you don’t hit on your mark. Gets messy. Believe me, I’ve seen it all firsthand.” He threw my phone on the end of the bed between my bound feet. “You come on too strong, by the way.”
“Excuse me?” He’s coaching me on how to pick up men now?
“If seducing your mark is part of your thing, you’re coming on too strong.”
I couldn’t stop the smirk from curling my mouth if I tried. “Hasn’t been a problem before. Most men like a sure thing.” Although, truthfully, most of the men I captured, I took down with a taser or a tranquilliser dart. I only slept with the really good looking ones. And those guys had liked a sure thing.
“I guess I’m not like most men. I like to be the one in control.”
I lowered my lashes. “I guess that makes two of us.”
He shook his head. “See? You’re doing it again. You’re beautiful, and from what I can tell, you’re smart—when you’re not on the bottle.” He tapped the empty vodka bottle with his foot, and it rolled along the wooden floor, hitting the wall near the bathroom. “You don’t need to walk around acting like you’re just a hole to fuck. That’s no way to live.”
Anger flashed behind my eyes, blinding me momentarily. “Who the fuck are you to tell me how to do anything?” I snapped. “I’m a grown woman who can fuck whomever she pleases whenever she pleases. There’s no shame in that.” Pig.
“Hey, if that’s all you want to be...”
My eyes widened and my cheeks flamed. “You don’t know me. You don’t know a damn thing.” Whoa, Blair. Why let him push your buttons? He’s not worth it. I needed to get control of myself.
He shrugged. “I don’t need to know you. I can read you. Besides, I looked into your background. You have quite a reputation.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about any reputation besides the one that says I’m the best damn human tracker in the country.”
“And I’m the best damn problem solver you’ll ever meet. Mess with me, mess with anyone I care about, and I’ll make you sorry. Consider yourself warned.” Then he walked out the door, leaving me strapped to the bed like a southern cross spider in the centre of their web.
“Toby!” I called after him. “You can’t just leave me here.”
“Someone will find you,” he yelled from what sounded like the bottom of the stairs.
“Toby! Get the fuck back up here!” The silence returning told me that my screams fell on deaf ears. That motherfucker. He actually left me here.
Pulling as hard as I could against the zip ties, I tried to stretch them so I could slide loose. But it was no good. I was stuck.
“Great.” Puffing out my breath to get my hair out of my face, I looked around the room, trying to figure something out. My options seemed limited to waiting until the owner of this place came when I didn’t return the keys, or until Big Jim got worried and sent someone looking for me. Either of those options could take days.
Unless… My eyes landed on the phone sitting between my feet.
“Hey Siri,” I said, sighing with relief when the screen lit up and I heard that telltale beep. “Call Big Jim.”
Chapter Five
Sleeping or Passed Out
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Nick Jennings appeared in the doorway a few hours later, a shit-eating grin on his dark-tan face as he slid a cigarette between his full lips and lit up. “Lookin’ good, Blair.”
Of all the people who could come to my aid, Nick was the last person I wanted.
“Just untie me, fuckface.”
My job didn’t exactly have the Christmas parties or social gatherings more typical vocations did, but I knew most of the guys on Big Jim’s roster. Mostly because I made it a point to, but also because I occasionally worked as part of a team. Not easy for a loner like me, but sometimes it was necessary.
“Is that any way to greet your saviour?” he said, casually walking to the foot of the bed and chuckling. His jet-black hair pulled back in an elastic at the base of his neck, a thin wavy strand of it falling free and hanging about his masculine yet attractive face. His mother was Chinese and his father was Greek, giving him hooded eyes, a roman nose, and a heart-shaped mouth. And he was charming to boot. Women fell for him easily. Including me once upon a time.
“Just untie me, Nick. Please.” It hurt me to say the word, especially to him, but I was busting to pee, and I didn’t want to dick around.
“Give me a minute. I’m getting myself a nice mental image so I can jack off to it later. Even after everything, you still get my blood going, Blair.” A few years back we were working a job together. The sex and chemistry between us was great, so we gave a relationship a shot. But he had issues with anger, and I had issues with trust and vulnerability. Neither of us could let our guard down long enough to have anything meaningful, so we cut our losses and moved on when it all got too ugly. Now, we avoided each other as much as possible; mainly because I threatened to break his nose the last time we spoke.
“Nick. Please. You know how uncomfortable I am right now.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flick knife. “Yeah. I remember.” His voice and gaze softened a little before he slid the blade between my ankle and the bedpost, slicing the plastic tie with a snap.
With a relief-filled groan, I bent my knee as my blood flowed and prickled beneath my skin. Nick made quick work of the next two ties, but paused before cutting the last. “How’d this happen, anyway? It’s not like you to participate in any sort of kinky shit.” His eyes slid down the length of my body, pointing out the fact I was wearing nothing but my underwear.
“Some guy I’ve been watching figured out who I was. He broke in while I was sleeping.”
He cut the final tie and met my eyes. “He hurt you?”
Sitting up, I rubbed at my wrists and shook my head. “Just got rid of everything I had on him and left me here for you to find.” I got up and headed straight for the ensuite bathroom, closing my eyes in sweet relief as I emptied my bladder. “He’s probably long gone by now,” I called out when I finished and headed for the basin to wash my hands and brush my teeth. “I’ll have to start again.”
Nick entered the bathroom and dropped his finished cigarette butt into the open toilet. It fizzled out with a hiss as it hit the water. “About that…”
I stopped brushing and spat my toothpaste into the sink. “No.”
“Big Jim wants you to turn everything you have over to me.”
“I don’t have anything.”
“Then tell me what you know.”
“No. This is my job. My mark. I found him.”
“And like you said, he’s probably long gone now. I’ll be basically starting again, anyway.”
“That is total bullshit.” Big Jim could be way too protective of me. He’d never do this to one of the guys.
“I don’t make the calls,” he said, following me out of the bathroom as I gathered my things. “But I do think it’s a good idea.” When I whipped around to confront him, I found him holding the empty vodka bottle. “How much are you drinking these days, anyway?”
I snatched the bottle from his hands and threw it in my bag. “Just enough to help me sleep.”
“You smell like you’re drinking more than that.”
Pulling a hairband from my purse, I scraped my hair into a ponytail, huffing out my breath. “Leave it alone, Nick. I’m not hurting anyone. It isn’t affecting how I do my job.”
“Says the woman I just cut free from her starfish po
sition on the bed.”
“He did that while I was sleeping. Not because I let him.”
“Sleeping? Or passed out?”
“Fuck you, Nick.”
“He could have really hurt you, Blair.” His voice softened as he stepped towards me.
I sat on the edge of the bed and shoved my feet into a pair of chucks. “I know,” I snapped, tightening the laces. “I fucking know, all right. I know I got lucky. I know.”
Releasing his breath, he sat down beside me and placed a gentle hand on my thigh. “I’m worried about you, Blair. Take this as a sign that your shit is getting out of control and get some help. Check yourself into one of those fancy clinics or something. I don’t want to walk in one day and find you dead instead of just zip-tied to a bed.”
“What part of ‘I’m fine’ aren’t you getting? This is my job, and I’m not letting you swoop in and steal my hard earned money. I don’t give a fuck what Jim says.”
“Jesus fucking…” He got up and shook his head. “You never fucking change.”
“Neither do you, you glory hogging arsehole!”
“Are you serious right now?” His eyes widened, lacking understanding. “Whatever, Blair. I’m not dealing with you right now.” He lifted his hands and headed for the door.
“That’s right, run away, Nick. Run like you always do.”
Huffing out a growl, he muttered under his breath, slamming the bedroom door on his way out.
I moved over to the window and watched until his car pulled away and made it to the end of the street. Then I let out a sigh. Alone. Thank god. I couldn’t take any more of his words. People always wanted me to change, they commented on my drinking, my sex life, my attitude… it was none of their fucking business. If I cared about any of that shit, I’d change for myself. I’d be that demure little girl my foster mother had banged on about.
No. I was just fine. They all needed to learn how to mind their own business and let me live my fucking life. I didn’t need any of them.
Once I saw Nick’s car leave the quays and head towards town, I collected the rest of my things and moved into the living room, ready to work out where Toby had run to this time.
I made a coffee in the little pod machine then walked over to the large window overlooking the marina. As I sipped the bittersweet brew, I sought out his boat pen, expecting to find a vacant spot of sea where Toby had moored his boat.
Instead of water, I saw a fucking boat. He’s still here? What. The. Actual. Fuck? He knew everything about me. About Big Jim. Why I was here. Did he really think I wouldn’t come back at him? Because of a few zip-ties?
That man was a whole new level of messed up if he thought that way.
With my heart thudding in my chest, I dumped my coffee in the sink, excited that I could complete this job and prove I still had what it takes. One stupid mistake shouldn’t mar an exemplary career.
Rushing downstairs, I opened the boot of my car and pulled up the lining, revealing the compartment underneath that contained my takedown kit. I pulled out my taser and checked the batteries. The prongs crackled perfectly.
Wait. Toby is a big guy. He might not go down with the taser alone….
Reconsidering, I pulled out the black case containing my tranquilliser gun, loaded it with extra strength darts then tucked it into the back of my jeans.
That’ll do the trick.
My phone rang.
“Jim,” I said, holding it to my ear as I straightened up my car mat with the other hand.
“Glad you’re OK, kid.” He paused for a second then chuckled. “Gotta admit, I laughed at your expense over this one.”
“Yeah well, I’m sure I’ll laugh about it one day too.”
“It’s like he read your file.” He kept laughing before his cackle turned into a cough.
“He probably did read my file. You might want to check your firewalls for a breach.”
“Ah, fuck. I’m on it. But kid, I need you to turn this one over to Nick. Tell him everything you know then step down.”
“I’m fine, Jim. I don’t need protecting.”
“Well, I think you do. It’s my call, and I’m telling you to back off. I don’t want this to turn into another Adelaide job.”
I closed my eyes, shuddering at the memory. “Sure, boss,” I murmured, shaking off the chill crawling across my skin as I reached up and closed the boot. I didn’t want to argue after he hit me in my Achilles heel.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll fill Nick in right away,” I lied, there was no way. “Thanks for checking in, Jim.”
“Just make sure you do the same. I don’t like the idea of losing my best tracker to a psycho just because she didn’t call it in like I asked.”
“Duly noted.”
Disconnecting, I pocketed my phone then headed straight for the marina. I didn’t care what Big Jim or Nick Jennings wanted. Toby Cartwright was my job. And I was damn well going to finish it.
Chapter Six
Don’t Turn That Key
With my hands in my jacket pockets, I hunched against the morning wind, one foot stepping sure in front of the other. It was 10am and Mr Sticky-beak wasn’t being his nosey self just yet. Probably had something better to do. The marina seemed relatively quiet; the only people I ran into were two men—one in his twenties, the other middle-aged, both too different to be related—walking in the opposite direction. They wore caps down low, their collars pulled up around their necks to shield their skin from the unusually cool bite in the air.
“Morning,” the older man said, meeting my eyes and flickering a memory locked tight in my brain. It felt like the flutter of a shadow in the corner of my eye, uncomfortably familiar.
“Morning,” I replied, staring at him a little more intently during the moment it took us to pass each other. I feel like I know him.
“Rough on the water today,” he said, tapping a finger on the brim of his hat and flashing a gold-toothed smile.
I nodded in response, a creeping, crawling feeling settling beneath my skin as I continued on, my mind flashing, threatening me with a headache I didn’t want. No. Don’t.
No. I needed to find Toby.
Forcing my mind to focus, I concentrated on propelling my feet forwards until I was standing in front of his boat and looking up.
The little dog wasn’t on the deck this time, and when I climbed on board, there was no other sign of life. Maybe he left on land?
Entering the cabin, everything seemed clean and tidy. A single cup and plate were sitting in the drain tray, the bedroom—or berth—seemed untouched. I ran my hand across the hanging shirts before opening the drawers. Still full of clothes.
Maybe he isn’t running at all?
Continuing my search around the room, I pulled open the drawers at his bedside, rummaging through papers and personal belongings, trying to get a handle on who this guy was, and what was important to him. There were the typical things—random receipts, batteries, tangled headphones. I found a pair of cuff links, old looking, gold and square with a green stone set inside them.
Dropping them back in the drawer, I slid it closed and opened the next one down. A bottle of lube rolled and hit the back of the drawer, returning to me and knocking against a pack of extra-large condoms. “Guess the rumours are true,” I said, peeking inside and seeing it was mostly full. I didn’t know why, but it pleased me that maybe he wasn’t having that much sex.
Still pissed over the ‘hole to fuck’ comment, I took every condom out of the box and shoved them in my pocket. He won’t be sealing the deal any time soon, either.
Kneeling on the floor, I opened the small cupboard and rifled through the books inside. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, Norwegian Wood, Slaughterhouse Five and The Great Gatsby to name a few. I ran my finger along the spines, well worn with creases and fine lines that cut through the colour of the covers, telling me someone had read them over and over, that they were favourites.
I pulled out his copy of Norweg
ian Wood and studied the cover while the Beatles song of the same name ran through my head. I hummed a few bars as I traced over the upside-down butterfly then flipped the book over to see what it was about. The motion caused a sharp corner to press into my palm. A photo.
Sliding the print from between the pages, I stared at the image it contained. Toby, possibly in his twenties, sitting on a porch swing, laughing while a small girl sat in his lap with her head thrown back and a massive grin on her face. She couldn’t have been over five or six with long brown hair and a mouth that was achingly familiar.
Is she…
I flipped the picture, hoping for some sort of clue printed on the back, but there was nothing.
Flicking through the rest of the book, I found a folded piece of paper—a child’s drawing of two people and a rainbow—a school photo of the same girl at around nine or ten, a pressed flower.
Who is this girl to Toby?
Pulling out the other books, I continued my search, finding more photos—from a baby right up until high school—when it became obvious that this girl was the same one I’d watched him have dinner with the night before. I picked up a photo of her in her graduation robe, her clear blue eyes shining happy as she smiled for the camera. Those eyes. I held it next to the first photo. I’ve looked into those eyes before. The resemblance was unmistakable.
“He has a daughter?” There had been no mention of any spouse or offspring on his file. But their features where too similar to deny a family connection.
Is this why he ran away?
Movement on the deck snapped me into action. I gathered the photos and shoved them back in the books, slipping them into the cupboard and closing it up before I got to my feet and moved closer to the door.
Fool’s Paradise: Cartwright Brothers, Book 5 Page 4