by Joyce, T. S.
“I hate you,” she whispered.
A muscle twitched in his jaw, but he didn’t answer. Instead he became terribly busy with punching an address into his phone and listening to the monotone voice feeding him directions.
Even at the off hour, they had to wait thirty minutes at the bar to be seated at Keen’s Steakhouse. Which would’ve been totally worth it if the food didn’t sit in unappetizing lumps against her tongue. It smelled delicious, but fear of death tended to make everything taste like tree bark. Keens was rich with history, plush leather chairs and crisp cream colored linens on every table. Even the silverware was fancy. They were seated in a corner booth with a great view of the rustic room.
She wanted to binge drink, but couldn’t even bring the fancy cocktail to her lips without shaking and spilling it. Fate had to be laughing at her right now. And to make matters worse, Riker stared at her the entire dinner like he wanted to say something important. If he confessed his adoration for her now, it would fall on deaf ears. She did her best to look anywhere but his face. What they looked like to others dining at this fine establishment, she hadn’t a guess. But then again, at the moment, she didn’t really care.
Every time Riker checked his watch, she wanted to throw up. Her time was ticking down. In moments of panic, she weighed her options. If she went to the police, maybe they could put her back under protective custody, but Jeremy hadn’t had time to find the mole and she’d be as good as dead within a week again anyway. She could run off on her own, start over, get a job as a waitress in some small town and try to eke out a living always looking over her shoulder. But what if Stone’s men went after Bear Valley again in hopes of finding her there? She couldn’t stomach the thought of Jenny, or Blaine, or any of the others she’d met being placed in danger because she wanted to run from her fate for another few days.
She was utterly stuck.
Hooking her hands under her chin and resting her elbows on the table, she stared out the window at the sun, hanging low in the sky. “We should go soon.”
“You haven’t finished your meal.”
She was too nervous to eat, but she’d never admit that to him. “It’s getting late.”
Leaning forward, he reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. “I know you think you know my reasons for doing this,” he said, “but you don’t.”
“Let me keep my delusions, Riker. If I think you’re doing this for the good of your people, at least I can feel like I’m going out with honor.”
“God, Hannah. You’re making this so hard on me.”
She bit her cheek hard to stifle the urge to reach across the table and slap him. Hard on him? He wasn’t the one who was going to die. He’d get to go back to his paradise and rule his people without ever having to spare a thought for her. Low enough for only him to hear, she said, “At least you’re turning me over before the summer solstice. You’ll have time to go back home and choose Merit as your mate and she can wash the guilt right away from you.” She’d meant it to hurt him, but as his eyes darkened in anger, it was her who burned at the realization that Merit would be the one to sleep with him at night.
Moisture burned against her eyes and she threw her napkin on the table and excused herself. Outside, she leaned against the building next door and waited for him to pay and take her to Stone’s men.
A woman with a baby stroller walked by, the wheels bobbing gently across the pristine pavement. She smiled at the child and cooed nonsensical things. Passersby talked animatedly and a woman came to a stop beside her. Pretty, likely in her mid-twenties like Hannah, she held a cigarette between two fingers and begged a light.
“I don’t smoke,” Hannah said apologetically.
“Pity,” the woman said, leaning against the brick wall beside her. She cocked her head and a small frown pulled at her delicate eyebrows. “You okay?”
“Ah, yes. Just people watching.” The lady’s day would definitely be ruined if Hannah admitted what was really happening in her life right now.
“Is that your man?” She pointed her unlit cigarette toward Riker, who stood across the street in front of Keens, watching her with an unfathomable expression.
“For now.”
The woman made a series of popping sounds with her glossy red lips as she studied him. “Well, if you’re tired of him, toss him my way.”
“You sure? He’s a bit of a bear.” A giggle escaped Hannah’s lips, and she cleared her throat to cover it.
“Hmm,” the stranger said with a grin. “See you around.” Shoving off the wall, she disappeared around the corner.
The woman would never know it, but Hannah was glad she’d stopped for those few words of conversation. The stranger had gifted her a laugh, and right about now, it seemed important to get her smiles in while she could.
Riker had disappeared and moments later, the black rental car pulled around the corner. He threw open her door from the driver’s side. “Get in.”
Lowering herself to the seat and pulling the door closed, she asked, “What would you do if I didn’t come willingly? Would you force me?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was cold. Distant as she’d learned to expect it over the last few days.
The high rise buildings and appealing architecture gave way to manhole riddled streets, neon lights and people darting this way and that in front of the sedan. The sound of honking cars was constant until they escaped the chaos of the city. Blocks of abandoned buildings with broken windows and trees growing from sprawling cracks in the pavement said they were getting close.
The robotic lady on Riker’s phone said they’d arrived but all Hannah could see was a battered parking lot in front of a dilapidated building. A black SUV waited in the shadows, just outside of reach of the lone street light.
A whimper escaped her and she clenched the denim of her jean shorts with rigid fingers.
Riker reached over and gripped her hand with his and she let him. It was the last kind touch she would ever receive.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice strained with emotion.
“Don’t.” Kicking open the passenger side door, she stood and walked toward the SUV with her hands over her head.
Riker followed.
Heart pounding, she tried to steady her breathing. She could do this.
Two men with hand guns stepped from the SUV and when she reached them, one of them asked, “Hannah Michaels?”
“That’s me.” She’d meant for her voice to come out stronger, but it was weak and shaky. In fact, her entire body was shaking.
“Check her,” the dark haired man instructed a shorter, younger, lighter haired man in his early twenties. He was younger than her, with the scraggly facial hair of a youth, and already torturing for money. His mother must be so proud.
Boy Beard approached and yanked her hair out of the way, revealing the heart shaped scar on her neck. “It’s her.”
“Ms. Michaels,” the older man drawled. “You’re a very difficult woman to track down.”
“And yet you made it look so easy.”
His chuckle was cruel and chilling. “Pat them down.”
The boy felt up every crevice of her anatomy and then moved to Riker. “Lift your shirt.”
“Why?” he growled.
“So we know you kept your word and aren’t wearing a wire. And because if you don’t, I’ll kill you.”
Seemingly satisfied with that horrifying answer, Riker lifted his shirt and twisted so they could see his back as well. “I want your word my people are safe. I kept my end of the bargain.”
“Yeah fine. We don’t give a shit about your little cult in fucking Montana,” the boy spat out. “All our boss wants is her. Go.”
Riker turned and left without a backward glance, the rat. He didn’t even know how lucky he was. Stone’s men never let loose ends go. She swung her gaze to the two men, as Riker’s car engine revved and the tires popped and groaned against the gravel and broken glass.
“This way,” the o
lder one said.
The younger pushed her in the back and she followed them through a dented metal door of the building behind them. Gray paint hung from the walls in flakes and vines crept up from a crack in the floor, stretching for the sagging ceiling. The steady drip, drip of a leaky pipe echoed down a long corridor, and a fluorescent light flickered above.
She was led down a set of stairs to a musty office. Moldy boxes sat stacked against the wall as high as her shoulders and a desk took up most of the room. Behind it sat a man with cropped, mud colored hair, eyes so blue they almost looked white, and a predatory smile.
“Ms. Michaels. So nice to finally meet you. I’m Dane, Mr. Stone’s most trusted advisor.”
“You mean contract killer.”
He shrugged, unoffended. “It’s a rare thing to find a person still living who has made my boss as angry as you have. We’ve got plans for you and lots of time, so how about we show you to your sleeping quarters first? Hmm?”
The sleeping quarters in question were nothing more than an oversized closet with chains on the walls, a bucket of water in the corner, and a terrifying looking machine that resembled a giant Taser with more buttons. On a table against the wall lay an array of sharp instruments. The urge to pass out on the dirty floor buckled her knees. She was so scared. Her breath came in pants and pitiful tears streaked her cheeks and she didn’t care about being strong anymore. There was no one left to be strong for. It didn’t matter.
A clatter sounded from above them and Dane jerked a suspicious glare to the ceiling. “You weren’t followed, right?” he asked the dark headed bruiser.
“No, we checked. The only one around was the fellow who brought her here, and he looked like he couldn’t wait to get rid of her.
“Danny, you’re with me,” Dane ordered, pulling a pistol from a holster on his hip. “Ellis, you stay here and secure her. I don’t want any surprises. Not when we’re this close to having this finished.”
“Your name’s Ellis?” Hannah sneered thickly through her tears. “That’s a pussy name for a hit man.”
“Shut up.” Jerking her wrist, he clamped the first manacle around her fine bones and reached for the other.
A thud sounded above them, hard enough that the plaster on the ceiling rained down on them. Ellis glared at the swinging light bulb on a string above them. “What the f—. Stay here.”
Hannah held up her chained arm, attached to the wall. “Where am I gonna go?”
Nothing save for the tink, tink of the chain at her wrist sounded as she paced. Minutes drifted by and still nothing.
Maybe this was their game. Scare her witless and then leave her here, chained to the wall and forever tortured by the idea of them coming back at any moment. She pulled against the manacle, stretching toward the table of blades. She was about three feet shy of reaching them. Stretching her leg out, she tried to touch it, but still, she was short. Nothing else she could use as a weapon was in reach except for the chain. Maybe if she could get it wrapped around their throats…
The door crashed open and she jumped so hard, her back hit the wall. Riker stood there, panting as blood dripped from a gash across his forehead. “You okay?”
“Riker?” Of course it was him, but he’d been the last person she’d expected to walk through that door and right now, all her shock would allow was lame questions.
“Come on. We need to get out of here.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Killing Stone’s men.”
“But I thought—”
“Exactly what I wanted you to think. Hannah,” he growled, the word tapering to a feral rumble. “I was never betraying you. We have to go.”
Frozen in place at his admission, a hopeful smile ghosted her lips. He hadn’t just handed her over without a plan then. Her mate had…what? Used her as bait? Roiling emotions churned inside of her but Riker was right. They needed to leave this den of death and quick. She’d have to sift through the slew of pissed off and relieved feelings later, when she wasn’t chained to a wall. She lifted her hand, the metal clinking with her movement. “Do you have the key?”
Hands on the links, Riker clenched his teeth and snarled as he pulled them free of the wall. Sheetrock and an old splintered two-by-four came with it, but he picked up the dragging end like it was weightless and pushed her out the door.
Up the stairs and down the corridor, past the office and into the great front room, Riker didn’t let her slow until they reached the pile of bodies near the wall. Dane stared back at her with dead, empty eyes, his neck twisted the wrong way, and she turned away as bile clawed its way up the back of her throat. A rustling sounded and moments later, Riker jammed the key into the manacle that ensnared her arm. He wiped the rough surface of the metal clean of fingerprints with the edge of his shirt, then tossed it in the corner. With a steady grip, he pulled her by the hand through the front door and into the open night air.
Sneakers pounding the pavement, she ran as fast as she could behind him and ducked into the waiting car. The engine turned and as soon as it caught, Riker’s boot was on the gas.
Inhuman eyes shone from Riker’s face in the illumination of the passing street lights and he gripped the wheel with every turn.
Utterly shocked, she stared at the road stretching in front of them. At the night sky, speckled with stars that she’d never thought to see again just minutes ago.
She was alive.
Chapter Sixteen
Hannah wanted to trash the hotel room in a blaze of rage, rock star style. The hotel staff would have to deal with her questionable behavior though, so guilt kept her hands clenched into the covers of the soft, gold colored duvet.
This might be the nicest hotel room she’d ever stayed in. Patterned beige papered the wall, and even the framed watercolor prints that likely graced every room were interesting and well done. A seating area with a giant television sat near the king sized bed, and there was even a kitchen.
Still. A hotel mansion wasn’t going to stifle her anger, so if Riker’s plan was bribery, well, he was going to have to try harder.
She felt used. Pride at his cunning plan was stifled by the more immediate urge to verbally ream him for not letting her in on tonight. He’d let her think she was expendable. If he hadn’t looked like he was about to turn into a bear in that tiny rental car, she would’ve thrown one epic verbal whoopin’ on the drive to the hotel. As it stood, the air had been so charged with supernatural magic mojo, she could hardly draw a breath to curse him out. It had been a relief when he checked them into a room and said he’d be back soon. Maybe he was changing into a bear in Central Park.
A smile cracked her face at the vision of his bear streaking past the hot dog stands and she shook her head to rid herself of the happy tendrils wrapping around her. He was still in trouble and if she accepted this kind of behavior now, their future together was going to get messy.
The room lock beeped and Riker shoved the swinging door open, toting a giant pizza box.
Eyebrows cocked like pistols, she set a snake-like glare onto him. “We need to have a serious talk. And what is that?” The delicious smell of pepperoni and melted mozzarella filled the room.
“You told me once the thing you missed most about home was Ray’s Pizza.”
If he was trying to butter her up, he was doing a damned fine job of it. She’d maybe underestimated how clever the man was.
The cardboard scuffed across the table as he set it down. When he lifted his eyes, they were raw, tortured, and he took a step toward her. And another.
“Stop.” She held her hand up but still he came. Her lip trembled. Less strong, she pleaded, “Just stop.”
“Never,” he said, his voice deep and harsh. “Not until you understand why I had to do this to you.” He pulled her from the bed and dragged her to the hard planes of his chest.
Not ready, she pushed away far enough to hit him in the ribcage. “I spent the entire day thinking I would die in some horrible way.” She
hit him again and his eyes sparked with anger. “You let me feel unimportant and used. You let me think I’d be tortured again after you knew what the first time had cost my soul.”
She pushed and pushed, but he only held her tighter until, weak and exhausted, she gave in and grieved against his shirt.
“Jeremy told me this was the only way you’d let me save you.” His voice was thick but tender. “If you didn’t believe I was really trading you in, you wouldn’t have let me take the risk. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me Jeremy was wrong.”
Oh, she wanted to deny it. The last few hours played back in an instant, but no. If she knew he was going to follow her and wage war against those psychopaths on her behalf, she would’ve tried to come up with a different plan.
At her hesitation, he said, “Dane was the one organizing the hits, Hannah. Stone is on his last legs with the outside world and Dane is the last man he has with enough power to hire men to come after you. In prison, Stone is dealing with his enemies while his allies are being cut off. Two of the men you testified to put away were killed last week. Jeremy kept his head while Stone’s men had him and he told me everything he was able to piece together. Stone’s line to the outside world is shrinking and I needed to end this tonight, while they were weak. To do that, you had to believe I’d betray you or you wouldn’t have acted like you did when I brought you to them, and our cover would’ve been blown. You did just as I needed you to.” His hands tightened in her hair. “I was so proud of you. Of your strength and selflessness. You went in there knowing you’d get hurt to protect our people.”
“Our people?” Hope washed over her and she clung to the thin fabric of his shirt.
“Our people, Hannah. You’re my mate, always. You belong in Bear Valley just as surely as I do. Hey,” he said, easing back to look at her. He ran a thumb over the tracks her tears had made. “You’re safe. You don’t have to worry about Stone anymore. No more looking over your shoulder or worrying that your past will get the people you love hurt. It’s over.”