Captive Heart

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Captive Heart Page 2

by Adriana Hunter


  “You’re going to be in my way. And like I just said – this is dangerous.”

  “I can take care of myself. I’ll just…get on the same plane as you do. You can’t stop me from doing that.”

  Lainey glanced at the shorter man. He was listening to their conversation, his smile widening. He leaned against the fender of the SUV, apparently enjoying the exchange.

  Gideon took off his cap, revealing a shock of thick, dark hair and she shook her head. This was no time to lose focus. She was going to Belize whether Gideon Wolfe liked it or not.

  Gideon ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the already disheveled locks. He jammed the cap back on his head, tugging it low over his forehead, then looked down at her, mouth held in a firm line. A very disapproving line.

  “Look. I get you’re worried about your brother. I get it, really. But this is no place for a girl, not by a long shot.” He turned away from her, as if that was the end of the discussion. The shorter man straightened, moving toward the passenger door.

  “You can’t stop me from flying,” she called out, repeating what seemed to be a perfectly logical argument. Gideon kept walking, but the other man stopped and turned back, an expectant look on his face.

  “I’m not flying commercial, so you’re going to have a hard time finding me even if you did manage to get a flight. I’ve got a charter booked. This is my pilot.” Gideon nodded at the other man as he rounded the back of the vehicle.

  “How much does it cost to fly charter?” Lainey turned to the pilot, who had stopped a few feet from her.

  “How much you got?” He leaned against the SUV again, hands stuck in the pockets of his chinos, as if he had all the time in the world. She saw Gideon out of the corner of her eye, striding back around the rear of the SUV.

  “A thousand dollars.” Lainey held her breath. It was almost all the cash she had left, besides credit cards. And the pilot didn’t look like the kind who took American Express. Scott had said something about expenses, and she’d wanted to be prepared in case Gideon asked for more money.

  “Then a thousand dollars will get you a flight to Belize.”

  “What the hell are you doing, Mack? She can’t come along.”

  “She can fly in my plane if she’s got the cash, Wolfe. You’re buying a seat, she’s buying a seat. I’m out to make a buck, just like you.”

  The man turned back to Lainey and extended his hand. After a pause, she shook it. He looked confused a moment then smiled, shaking his head.

  “Nice meeting you, Miss Matthews, but I want my money.”

  “Oh, right.” Lainey fumbled in her pocket for the smaller envelope she’d tucked away, counted out a thousand dollars, and handed it to the pilot. Unlike Gideon, the man counted the money. Satisfied, he nodded, glancing at Gideon before looking back at Lainey.

  “I’m Mack. Grab your stuff and we can head to the plane. That is, if Gideon is done trying to run my business for me.”

  That remark was met with a deep scowl from Gideon, but he voiced no other protest. He stalked to the driver’s side door, opened it, and climbed in. The engine roared to life and Lainey quickly opened the back door and climbed inside, fearful Gideon would drive away, leaving her behind.

  As it was, she’d barely gotten the door closed before he backed out of the parking space in a squeal of tires. He circled the terminal and several other buildings, heading for a small blue hangar on the outskirts of the runways. He pulled up in front of the large metal doors and Mack jumped out, running over to the building and disappearing through a small service door. A moment later, the large hangar door slid to the side. Lainey saw a small white plane tucked neatly inside the hangar. Mack disappeared into the dark depths of the building.

  Lainey opened her door, grabbed her bag, and stepped out into the sun. Gideon climbed out of the driver’s side, slamming the door with a resounding thud. He strode to the back of the SUV, tugged up the hatch, and began rummaging through an array of duffel bags and other containers. Lainey took a tentative step toward him, but before she could say anything, he spun around.

  “This is not a good idea.” He took a step forward, his finger jabbing in her direction. “You’re going to get in the way, you’re going to be in my way, and you’re going to slow me down.” He advanced further and she took a reflexive step backward.

  Then she stopped. This was just like Scott, starting in on a lecture of how she was wrong and he was right. Granted, this was her brother’s life they were talking about, but there still had to be something she could contribute besides money.

  “Look, Gideon. I know this is probably out of the ordinary…”

  “Out of the ordinary? It’s completely crazy. You’re completely crazy.” He was standing directly in front of her now, the toes of his big black boots almost touching her sneakers. Craning her neck, she looked up at him as he glared down at her. This close he seemed immense, chest broad enough to block out the sun.

  “But I can’t control Mack or who he takes as a passenger. And it’s pretty obvious I can’t control you either.”

  She held his gaze, watching his pale eyes darken dangerously. The image of a lion rose in Lainey’s mind again, a very angry lion this time, looking at her as if deciding if she was worth the effort to swat aside or to eat for lunch.

  For a moment they stood, Gideon glaring down at her, Lainey determined to stand her ground. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and for a moment she wondered just how long this staring match was going to continue. But then Gideon shook his head, waving a dismissive hand in the space between them.

  “Fine. Do whatever you think you have to do. We’re wasting time.” He turned back to the SUV. “Just don’t…”

  The noise of the plane cut off the rest of his words. Lainey turned and watched as Mack skillfully brought the plane out of the hangar, angling it toward the nearest runway. He twirled his index finger in the air in a hurry up gesture, and Gideon gave him an impatient wave.

  Lainey shouldered her bag as Gideon finished putting items in a black duffel bag. Out of curiosity, she peered over his shoulder as he worked. He turned abruptly, catching her in the shoulder with the bag. She jerked back with a cry, dropping her own bag on the tarmac.

  “Proves my point. We’re still in Illinois and you’re already in the way.” He hoisted the duffel bag, slammed the hatch on the SUV, and turned toward the plane. She grabbed her bag and straightened. Gideon was already headed toward the plane, tossing words over his shoulder.

  “Get in, sit down, and do what Mack or I say. Don’t move, don’t talk. Nothing.”

  Lainey hurried to keep up with Gideon as he walked across the tarmac. Yanking open the door on the side of the plane, he tossed the duffel bag inside, then pointed to Lainey, motioning her inside. She climbed up on the wing and then into the plane. There were four seats, two facing forward and two directly behind the pilot, facing the rear. She took the one furthest from the door, behind the pilot, facing forward. Gideon climbed in to sit beside Mack in the narrow cockpit.

  The plane rolled out across the tarmac, made a sharp turn, and then headed down what Lainey hoped was the runway. They increased speed, racing over the gray runway, the plane shaking and bouncing far more than she thought was necessary.

  Out of the window she could see the wing, one of the engines, and the ground flashing by. Suddenly the wheels left the runway, the bumpiness stopped, and they were airborne. They rose over green fields, past the two-lane highway on which she’d driven, then circled and headed away from everything that was familiar to Lainey.

  This was it; she was on her way to get Aiden out of whatever mess he was in, with a surly man who probably hated her. She looked over at Gideon, studying his profile. The sunglasses were gone and he’d taken off his cap, replacing it with a pair of headphones. His hair, even though it was on the short side, was still messy, a few erratic peaks sticking up around the headphones. The sleeve of his black t-shirt stretched across the muscles of his upper arm, the ed
ge of a tattoo visible.

  For a moment, she had the almost irresistible urge to reach out, tug the sleeve higher, and find out what the rest of the tattoo looked like. She wondered if there were more hiding beneath his shirt.

  Then Gideon turned, said something to Mack, and smiled briefly. It was the first smile she’d seen and for a moment, she was captivated. He was ruggedly handsome, the smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, relieving the tension on his face.

  But it was quickly gone, replaced by his usual grim face. She sighed and looked out the window again. In her excitement, or maybe it was terror, of getting herself on this trip, she’d forgotten to ask how long they’d be in the air. It really didn’t matter; she was on the plane and there wasn’t much Gideon could do now. She was headed toward Belize.

  Far too quickly, it seemed to her, they were landing, the plane bouncing along a pitted runway, its pavement cracked. Hot-looking, dry brown desert stretched off into the distance. This didn’t look like Belize, although she really had no idea what Belize might look like.

  The plane taxied across the tarmac, slowing, and then Mack cut the engines. Gideon turned to her, leaning back between the seats as he spoke.

  “We’re refueling. If you want to change your mind now about coming along, you can leave the plane and probably find a flight back to Chicago. We’re still in the U.S.”

  He looked a little more hopeful than she’d like at his suggestion. She shook her head and settled back in her seat, arms folded. This was met with a frown and a deep sigh.

  “Suit yourself. This is the easy part of this trip; it only gets harder from here.” Then he was out of the plane, disappearing from her field of view. There seemed to be no one in evidence other than Mack, who briefly appeared and disappeared as he moved about on the ground. Then they both climbed back into the plane and the twin engines started up again.

  Mack took the plane back down the runway, this take-off making their departure from DuPage seem like a dream. The plane shuddered and bounced and finally they were airborne, flying away over the brown landscape.

  Lainey had never been on a plane this small and she found it disconcerting to be unable to talk to anyone. Gideon and Mack were able to talk, she imagined, because they wore headphones, which would eliminate the noises of the plane. If she wanted to be heard, she’d need to shout. And she would probably be ignored, at least by Gideon.

  It occurred to her that this was intentional on Gideon’s part. Keeping her isolated kept her out of his way. She searched the floor near her seat, rummaging through an assortment of small boxes and duffel bags, but she found nothing that looked like headphones.

  Straightening up, she caught Gideon, head turned, looking at her. She was struck by the intensity of his gaze, the pale blue eyes seeming to look through her. He looked at her for a moment longer before turning away.

  Lainey spent the rest of the trip staring out the window, watching the world below change from flat brown to startlingly blue water and finally to dense green trees. Almost two hours after they’d refueled, they flew over buildings, a beach, and signs of civilization. The plane landed at what she assumed was the airport in Belize. Mack brought the plane in and pulled up to a white terminal, long and low, its tower shining brilliantly in the sun.

  Gideon and Mack climbed out of the plane. Gideon turned back, motioning to Lainey. She grabbed her bag and climbed out of the plane, happy to be on solid ground. But the wall of muggy air that hit her almost took her breath away. Chicago was hot and humid, but this was completely different. The sun reflected up off the tarmac, off the buildings, the plane, everything. For a moment, Lainey was disoriented by the glare, shielding her eyes with her hand. In her rush to pack, sunglasses hadn’t been on her mind.

  “Customs is in there.” Gideon pointed to the terminal. “And I suspect this is where we part ways.”

  “Why would you think that?” Lainey frowned up at Gideon, his face shadowed by the bill of his cap. Reaching behind her, he pulled a duffel bag out of the plane, swinging the strap over his shoulder.

  “Unless you have a valid passport, you’re not getting out of the terminal.” He jerked his head toward the building. “They’ll probably help you find a flight back to Chicago though, for a price. Hope you’re prepared.”

  “I brought my passport.” She shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out the little blue folder. “I’m not as air-headed as you seem to think I am. I have traveled out of the country before, you know.”

  “Never thought you were air-headed, just incredibly stubborn. And crazy.”

  “I’m not stubborn, or crazy. You’re just…”

  There was a muffled snort of laughter behind them. Lainey and Gideon turned. Mack was leaning against the plane, watching them with a smile on his face.

  “Sounds like you and Isobelle, Gideon.” Mack’s smile broadened. “Remember? Just like old times.” Mack winked at Gideon, leering at Lainey. “Maybe history repeats itself.”

  Gideon shot a look at Mack, which did little to dampen the man’s smile. Whoever Isobelle was and whatever the old times were, Gideon obviously wasn’t as amused as Mack.

  Gideon grabbed the bill of his cap, pulled it off his head, and ran his hand through his hair in a now-familiar gesture of frustration. Then he jammed the cap back on his head and adjusted the strap riding on his shoulder. He fixed Lainey with a steely gaze.

  “Fine. Just don’t slow me down.” He turned and took off, almost at a run, toward the terminal.

  Lainey broke into a trot, glancing over her shoulder. Mack detached himself from the plane, gave a laconic wave, and disappeared behind the wing.

  “Isn’t Mack coming along?” She managed to catch up with Gideon, pulling even with him. He cast a sidelong glance at her before answering.

  “No. Like I said, I work alone. Mack flies planes. He works alone.”

  They reached the terminal, Gideon yanking open the glass door. Surprisingly, he held it for Lainey. She darted through before he changed his mind, entering the air-conditioned space. She was momentarily blinded by the dimness in the terminal, stumbling after Gideon’s voice.

  “If you hadn’t noticed, there’s a pattern here.” Gideon’s voice dropped, and he cast a wary glance around the terminal. Lainey followed his gaze, seeing a scattering of tourists and families, wondering if it was second nature for Gideon to look at everyone and everything with suspicion. She reasoned that it came with the territory, where everyone was a possible threat or an enemy.

  “The ‘alone’ part…I work alone.” He looked down at her and for the first time, his face softened, just a little.

  “Look. Like I said, the brother thing. I get it; he’s family. You want to be a part of this and help. Be the big sister, drag his ass out of trouble again. But you’ve done the only thing you can. You’ve brought me into this.”

  A brief rush of tears clouded her eyes, but she refused to acknowledge them. The unexpected kindness took her off guard but there was a deep sense that he was trying to trick her into staying. She tilted her chin, able to look at him without squinting into the sun.

  “Thanks for your concern. But I’m still coming along.”

  Gideon blew out a deep sigh. “Fine. But do yourself a favor and buy some sunglasses in the duty-free after Customs. You’re helpless outside and inside.”

  Customs was a fairly quick ordeal, a brief search of her single and Gideon’s duffel. For some reason she thought he’d object to the search, but all his duffel produced were several black t-shirts, camouflage pants, and various toiletries. Where were the guns, or at least a knife? Lainey was brimming with questions, but this certainly wasn’t the time or the place to ask.

  She darted into the duty-free shop, snatched up the first pair of sunglasses she saw and slapped her money on the counter, all the while keeping a sharp eye on Gideon. It would be just like him to send her off to buy something and then slip out of the terminal. But he was still busy with Customs. She waited impatiently for her cha
nge then rushed back into the terminal.

  He was walking toward the exit doors, and for a moment she thought he was going to leave her. But he turned, glanced in her direction, and slowed his step. She hurried to catch up and he held the door for her again.

  Lainey set the sunglasses on her face, finally able to see in the glaring sun. The parking lot wasn’t as full as she’d thought, with empty spaces scattered among the parked cars. As they walked, the cars grew fewer and fewer until they were headed toward the only vehicle left, a dark green Range Rover parked in the far corner of the lot. Lainey cast a doubtful look at the dirty, battered vehicle. The only areas of the vehicle not covered with layers of mud were two crescent-shaped swaths across the windshield.

  She turned to Gideon. “Now what?”

  “Now I drive. You ride along. I have someone to meet.” He tossed his duffel in the back seat of the Rover and grabbed Lainey’s bag, dumping it on the floor behind the driver’s seat. Lainey hurried to climb in to the passenger side. From somewhere unseen, he produced a set of keys and started the engine. He backed out of the space, turned, and headed out of the airport parking lot.

  “Are you sure this thing can make the trip? It looks a little worse for wear.” Lainey inspected the inside of the vehicle. It was stripped of any ornamentation and apparently any regard for the comfort of the passengers.

  Gideon cast a sidelong glance her way. “It’s not what’s on the outside that matters; it’s what’s under the hood. Guatemala has a high rate of car theft. If you drive something that looks like crap, chances are less someone will want it. It’s not foolproof. Besides, it doesn’t have rental car stickers, which would be an open invitation for trouble.”

  “Oh. How did it end up at the airport?”

  “The less you know, the better.”

  “Well, I did pay for this. I think I have a right…”

  “You don’t have any rights at the moment. You’re a stowaway, basically. Uninvited.”

  She folded her arms across her chest, slumping back in the uncomfortable seat. He’d apparently decided he was done talking to her. She studied his profile, outlined against the bright light outside the car’s window. His jaw was set, mouth held in a firm line. He’d called her stubborn. She shook her head; when he had a line of thought, he never gave up. That, in her mind, made him more stubborn than her.

 

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