“Wwwhha—”
He bent over her, fierce and angry, putting his hands on the bed, bracketing her with his arms. “You don’t belong with me.”
So, he finally said what she’d suspected all along. She rolled her head from side to side, telling him what she couldn’t find words to explain.
“I’m not Cullen,” he said in a raspy, deep voice. God, she would never get tired of listening to his voice.
“You’re not unlike him, either,” she finally said. Her delay sent him the wrong message.
He pushed off the bed and straightened. The anger on his face, the hurt emotion, wrenched her. He was misinterpreting her meaning and she didn’t know how to tell him what she felt. Not without hurting him more. She didn’t want to hurt him.
He threw on a shirt and sat on the bed to put on shoes.
Haley went to him, sitting on her knees and putting her hands on his back. “Rem, don’t go.”
He stood and turned. She dropped her hands to the mattress.
“I can’t stay here with you right now.” His gaze lowered and took in her nudity. “Not like this. Not after…”
“Rem…” What could she say? That she meant what she said—that she loved him? That she didn’t want to? It was all true, but it wouldn’t make him feel better. She didn’t trust him to open his heart to her, to overcome his past enough to do that.
His jaw flexed as he continued to misinterpret her feelings. He thought she regretted loving him because she couldn’t accept him as he was.
“You’re a good man, Rem,” she said.
But his face only darkened. “Just not good enough, huh?”
She felt his anger vibrating at her from across the room. Seconds passed as he met her eyes. She tried to plead with him to understand in the silence hanging between them. But it was no use.
He started for the door.
“Rem, please don’t go.” Where would he go and how long would he be gone? Would he ever come back?
He didn’t even glance at her or pause, just opened the door and slammed it on his way out.
She slumped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. What would have happened had she not said what she had? If she’d only have kept her feelings to herself. Rode them out to see where they led, maybe she wouldn’t have hurt him.
Sighing, she rolled her head to the side and looked across the mattress, so empty now without him there. The memory of him beneath her swept her, taking her breath and awing her. She never would have dreamed it possible. That a man would make her feel the way Rem had.
She closed her eyes and let the last hour replay in her imagination, feeling him all over again. The sex wouldn’t have been so poignant if she didn’t feel strongly for him. Whatever chemistry mixed when they were together, its potency had erupted along with her orgasm. For better or worse, she did love him.
Rem D’Evereux. Criminal adolescent grown into a ruthless man. Soft, sweet warmth engulfed her. No, not ruthless. Underneath all that indefatigable armor was the kindest man she’d ever known. The most honorable. Everything he did, all his battles, were driven by it. But as long as he kept feeding that armor, she’d never crack him open. And until she did, there was no hope of any future for them.
Well. Maybe she’d just have to find a way to crack him.
A sound outside the door made her lift her head. Elation jumped inside her. Had he returned so soon?
She climbed off the bed and hastily dressed in shorts and a white, short-sleeved T-shirt. He didn’t open the door. Was he hesitating?
Walking to the door, she looked through the peephole. No one was there.
She opened the door and looked down the hall to her left, toward the elevators. No one. Disappointment sank her spirits. She started to go back into the room. But something hard jabbed her ribs.
“Remember where you are,” a man’s voice said low beside her ear. “I can kill you right now and no one will care.”
She moved her eyes to see him. He wasn’t very tall, but he was taller than her, and very well built. His dark eyes were cold and empty, his dark hair thick and dirty and uncombed. The stubble on his face had to be at least three days old.
“You will come with me quietly, or I will kill you.”
She could probably take him. He was only one man. Going with him would be her death sentence, but not before she’d relive the horror of Iraq.
She couldn’t go with him. No matter what, she had to find a way to get away from him before they left this hotel.
But no one was walking the halls at this hour. She had no choice other than to allow him to walk her toward the stairs. The door to them opened, and to her utter dread, another man appeared, armed and dark like his friend.
Her heart throbbed in tune with her fear. How would she get away now?
Rem.
Where was he?
She searched the visible halls for him, frantic and desperate. The man with the gun at her ribs shoved her and she stumbled into the stairwell.
Chapter 13
The whiskey Rem had downed pooled in his stomach, making him feel nauseous. He came to the room door and paused. He wasn’t ready to face her. When she’d said she thought she loved him, he’d felt his heart cave in on itself. Hearing those words from Haley’s sweet mouth had reduced him to a weakened man. He couldn’t stop the surge of joy and hope. Dare he believe she loved him? That’s what had made him ask her. He was too afraid to believe she actually could.
To discover she didn’t had crushed him. He didn’t know how to handle that, the way it made him feel to know she’d confused great sex with love, if only for a moment. Respect was as important as good sex in a relationship. He and Haley had proved the sex was as good as it gets, but she didn’t respect him.
Well, standing out here in the hall like a timid schoolboy wasn’t going to solve anything.
Steeling his nerve, bolstering his defenses, he opened the door and stepped inside. The bed was empty. The bathroom door was open and the light was out.
“Haley?” But he knew she wasn’t in the room. It wasn’t big enough for her to hide.
Apprehension soured his stomach further. Damn it. He shouldn’t have left her alone. Had she left for good?
A quick search around the room confirmed she hadn’t packed or taken anything with her. Not even her gun.
Apprehension mushroomed into all-out fear. Where had she gone?
The room door showed no signs of forced entry. So she must have left on her own will. But with Farid and his men waiting for the perfect moment to strike?
He hissed a line of curses. He’d let his pride walk him out the door and now she could be in danger. After Iraq, that would not be easy for her to endure.
Oh, God, please let her be somewhere safe. He shoved his gun into the waist of his jeans and left the room. Running down the stairs, he emerged in the lobby and went to the reception counter. No one was there.
“Hello?” he called.
He cursed in silence inside his head. Anyone could have hauled her right through the front door without being noticed.
A skinny Latino man appeared from a back room, yawning.
“Has anyone come through here in the last hour?” he asked, furious.
The man shrugged. “I no see anyone.”
Rem slapped the counter with his palms and fought to contain his anger.
“But someone did leave this for a Rem D’Evereux. Are you that man?”
Rem snatched the envelope from the man’s bony hand. He tore it open and nearly ripped the paper as he unfolded it.
Only an address was handwritten there. Farid knew he didn’t need to write more. He wanted the diamonds. And if Rem didn’t bring them, he’d kill Haley.
Crumpling the paper in his fist, he tossed it to the floor and headed for the exit.
A thousand thoughts and emotions assailed him. Memories of his sister. The last time he’d spoken to her. Finding her broken and bloody body in her condo. Learning who’d given the order
and who’d really orchestrated the kill. Farid. Ammar. The lies. Dane and his poor choice in clientele had cost him too much.
Ammar had taken great pleasure in deceiving him. Rem was glad he was dead, but Farid was far more dangerous. One slip and it would cost Haley her life.
He climbed into the Jeep. He knew the address Farid had written. It was the ranch where Dane had sent him, the one where he’d thought he was protecting the inhabitants from rebels instead of working a big drug deal.
Rem had looked there months ago, but Farid hadn’t been there. He must have returned after he thought it was safe, after he thought the United States had stopped looking for him here. Or thought he wouldn’t be stupid enough to hide in plain sight.
An hour or so later, he passed the gate leading to the compound. A guard shack was active tonight. No surprise there.
He’d have to find a place to park this Jeep and hike in. Hang on, Haley…
“I’m coming to get you,” he said.
The unkempt dark-haired man gripped Haley’s arm so tight that it pinched. She registered as much as she could of the layout of the ranch-style house. Passing through a large, open room with white walls and black furniture, she noted the back patio door and the front entrance. They’d come through the garage. The décor was as cold as its owner. White walls and black furniture accented with black-and-white prints on the walls.
Down a hallway, they passed a bathroom and came to a circular area with four doors. After spending the last hour in the backseat of a Mercedes SUV with deeply tinted windows and a gun sticking against her side, she was beginning to lose hope that she’d find an opportunity to escape.
The dark-haired man’s partner opened a door, and the one behind her pushed her inside. She spun to face them just as the dark-haired man shut the door. She heard a lock slide into place.
Haley scanned the room, turning to see it all. There was a bed and a dresser and a bathroom. She moved to the window and yanked the heavy draperies aside. The window was barred. She went to the dresser and opened the drawers. They were empty. The bathroom was devoid of everything but toilet paper.
Rubbing her arms, she wandered back into the room. The silence disturbed her. She struggled with the encroaching familiarity of her situation. Giving in to fear would not help her.
The sound of the deadbolt clicking sent her heart skittering. The door opened and a man wearing a turban and white long-sleeved shirt entered ahead of the dark-skinned man and his toothless partner. An Osama bin Laden look-alike. She subdued a shiver. This had to be Farid.
He walked with the arrogance of a man ruled by his ego. His eyes looked at her with the appraisal of a hog farmer debating an auction bid. Women were of no more value than that to cruel men like him.
“I trust your accommodations are sufficient?” he said, coming to a stop a few feet from her. The dark-skinned man and his toothless partner flanked him.
She knew better than to think he actually cared about her accommodations. When she didn’t answer, he approached. His dead black eyes didn’t flinch as he met hers, studying, contemplating.
“Tell me who you work for.”
“I’m an independent contractor.”
“Who hired you?”
She didn’t answer.
“Were you sent to find my son?” he asked. “Me?”
“No.”
“Why were you in Monrovia?”
“My interest was with Habib Maalouf.”
“And Rem D’Evereux? How do you know him?”
“He was watching Habib, too.”
“He was watching my son.” His voice rose in anger. “And now my son is dead.”
She carefully remained silent.
“How well do you know him?”
Why was he asking such a question? He must have recognized her confusion because a slight smile curved the corners of his mouth.
“Not well enough, it would seem,” he said.
“I know him enough to know he didn’t deserve to lose his sister the way he did.”
“What has he told you about that? He killed my cousin? Stopped a drug deal between Dane Charter and my son?” He chuckled. “It’s true, for the most part, but I am sure he left out the most important details.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Dane Charter stole the drugs from Ammar, and Rem took them from Dane. They did not see things equally, you see. Rem knew that Ammar would pay him handsomely for the return of his drugs and was only too eager to oblige.”
“Impossible. Ammar killed his sister. Why would Rem want anything from him but his life?”
“Ammar did not kill his sister. Dane did.”
Haley had to subdue the need to sharply inhale. It couldn’t be true.
“Ah.” Farid nodded with a sickly smile. “So, Rem did not tell you everything.”
“What wouldn’t he want to tell me?” She tried to appear unaffected, but really she dreaded what he was about to reveal.
“Rem doesn’t want anyone to know his association with me and my son. It’s the real reason he wants us both dead. Your government is investigating him. They suspect his connection to us. He has everyone fooled into believing it was Ammar who killed his sister, probably to point the finger of guilt away from him.”
“You’re lying.” Odie would have known about the investigation. “Ammar killed Rem’s sister.” He was too emotional over it for it not to be true. He had a powerful thirst for revenge, and it was focused on Farid and Ammar, not Dane. But Dane was dead….
Farid said nothing.
“Why did Ammar kill Dane?” she asked.
“It was what Rem requested in exchange for the return of the drugs.”
Rem wanted someone else to kill his sister’s murderer?
Something was strange about Farid’s story. “What about your cousin?”
“My cousin is another matter. Rem could have made amends for his interference had he done all I asked of him.”
“You wanted more from him?”
“He could have worked off his debt to me. When he refused, I threatened to reveal the truth about him to the right people. That is when he began his campaign against me. Had he not taken my diamonds, this would all be over by now. Rem would be dead, and my diamonds on their way to Antwerp.” He sighed. “But as I said, that is a separate issue.”
If Farid’s claim about the drugs were true, Rem had completed a drug deal with terrorists, but he’d done it to get his sister’s murderer killed. She didn’t know what to think about that. Rem had discovered Dane was dealing drugs and intervened. That intervention had gotten his sister killed. But one thing didn’t add up. Instead of completing a drug deal for terrorists, why hadn’t he just killed Dane himself? Money? Or was there something else? Something Farid wasn’t saying?
“He wouldn’t have done it without a good reason,” she said.
“Done what? Give me back my drugs? What reason would he need? I paid him a lot of money. Ammar took care of everything.”
She could only stare at him while questions popped in her head. She didn’t want to believe that she had been so wrong about Rem. Was there something she was missing? Could she afford to hope?
Farid’s mouth curved into a wicked grin. “I am pleased you did not know this until now. You’ve captured his heart and that will serve me well. When he comes for you, I will kill him.”
“Then you’ll never find your diamonds.”
Farid chuckled. “If he does not bring me my diamonds, then it will be you who will die. Your misguided infidel will not let that happen. He will bring me the diamonds.” His contemptuous gaze took in her body from her thighs to her breasts. “His weakness for you will ensure this.”
It was true. Not the weakness part, but Rem would come for her, and Farid intended to use that to his favor. Rem would know he was running into a trap, but he would come anyway. One man against many. He’d never make it. He’d be killed before he got anywhere near her. And Cullen’s team wouldn’t make it in
time to help.
She tried to keep her breathing steady, but anxiety made it difficult. Rem would be killed and she would be left at the mercy of these men. The similarities to Iraq swarmed her.
She had to get out of here.
Stepping back, she looked at the other two men. They stood on each side of the open door.
Without second-guessing it, she bolted. She made it to the door before one of them grabbed her arm. She yanked it free and ran into the hall. Someone gripped a handful of her hair. The force of the pull sent her flying backward. She lost her balance and fell.
The dark-skinned man hauled her to her feet and bent her arm high behind her back, making her grimace. She stumbled back into the room as he pushed her. The toothless man stopped in the doorway, blocking any escape.
The dark-skinned man pushed her again and she landed against Farid. Anger crowded his brow. He pushed her back a step and slapped her. Her head turned to one side. She ignored the sting and swung her hand, catching him by surprise when she hit him back.
His eyes widened before his anger grew stormy, the crease above his long nose deepening, his mouth pressing tighter. He raised a fisted hand and swung to hit her. She blocked the attempt with her arm and slammed the palm of her hand against his ugly nose. Blood sprouted there.
He shouted something in his language. The dark-skinned man and his toothless partner were beside her in an instant, taking hold of her arms. She wrestled to be free of their grasps as images from her time in captivity slammed her. Farid hit her, punched her face so hard she saw white spots dotting her vision. Like when the Iraqi men hit her with their rifles. If the dark-skinned man and his partner weren’t holding her, she would have toppled over.
Farid hit her midsection next. She couldn’t breathe. He slapped her face.
Ripping clothes. The air on her bare skin. Two men looming. One of them reaching for her pants. Her kick. The rifle smashing against her head.
Breathing through the haze of apprehension, memory mixing with the sight of Farid as he leaned close.
“I do not need you alive for Rem to come for you,” he growled.
She stared at his hateful face.
Unmasking the Mercenary Page 17