Baby, Come Back [Clandestine Affairs 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

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Baby, Come Back [Clandestine Affairs 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 16

by Zara Chase


  “We would have been able to get her away from Salim, if we’d followed her as planned and knew where she’d been taken,” Zeke added in disgust.

  “Yes,” Pool said in a tired voice. “I don’t doubt it for a moment. I just haven’t wanted to admit it to myself.”

  “You need to turn yourself in, Pool,” Raoul said. “It will be easier on you if you do that.”

  “I’ll put arrangements in hand to have Romney picked up,” Parker said. “He still works for Pool, but at the Pentagon now.”

  “Just don’t let him anywhere near us,” Raoul growled.

  “A ruined career for a louse who didn’t deserve it and a daughter with no self-respect,” Zeke muttered as Agent Parker escorted Pool from the ranch.

  “Do you have a secure outside line?” Hassan asked.

  Raoul flexed a brow. “What do you think?” he replied, handing Hassan the handset.

  “Who’s he calling?” Cantara asked as Raoul sat beside her and took her hand.

  “Shush, just watch.”

  “Rachel?” Hassan asked, ignoring Levi’s gasp. “It’s Colonel Hassan. How are you? Just fine, thanks. I’m in the States right now and there’s someone here who needs to talk to you.”

  With tears pouring down his face, David Levi took the receiver from Hassan with a shaking hand and spoke to the wife he adored for the first time in three years.

  Chapter Fifteen

  That afternoon, Raoul and Zeke drove Cantara into Cheyenne for her appointment at the hospital.

  “It’s a pretty drive,” Cantara said, watching the passing scenery from her position sandwiched between the guys on the bench seat of their truck.

  “That it is, darlin’,” Zeke agreed, but he was looking at Cantara, not the view.

  “Nature on steroids this time of year,” Raoul agreed.

  He would be looking at Cantara, too, if he hadn’t been driving. He still sneaked frequent peaks in her direction whenever the road was clear. He didn’t seem able to stop looking at her, just to convince himself they really did have her back. This time for keeps.

  He pulled into the hospital parking lot and it wasn’t long before the three of them were ushered into Sanford’s consulting rooms. A nurse checked Cantara’s vital signs and then said Dr. Sanford would be right with them.

  “Well, Cantara,” Sanford said, striding into the room a short time later, beaming as though he took personal credit for her recovery. “I hear it’s good news.”

  “It certainly is,” she replied, shaking his outstretched hand.

  “You look much better than when I saw you last.”

  She bit her lip, presumably to prevent herself from explaining what had put the sparkle back in her eye. Wouldn’t do to frighten the horses, Raoul thought, stifling a smile of his own. He caught Cantara’s eye and flashed her a warning look. He didn’t want to think what mischief she might be capable of causing when she got that devilish look in her eye. He knew her game. She was trying to earn herself punishment credits. He shook his head, full of admiration for his feisty wife’s ability to bounce back with spirit and verve so soon after her ordeal.

  To Raoul’s relief and her evident amusement, she told Sanford how everything had come flooding back, thanks to a throwaway comment he had made.

  “That’s just great. Sometimes that’s all it takes. Recollection by association. The psychologists call it disassociation, which is what happened to you. Your conscious mind protected itself by retreating to a safe place to survive the trauma of your captivity. Do you want to tell me what happened to you, or aren’t you ready to talk about it yet?”

  “I don’t mind telling you.”

  She gave an abridged, sanitized version of her suffering at the hands of her delusional brother-in-law. Raoul grasped her hand and squeezed it encouragingly, figuring Sanford must know what he was doing in getting her talking about it.

  “No wonder your mind couldn’t cope,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I’m glad to see you don’t seem to be permanently damaged by your ordeal.” How the fuck can he be so sure? “Now then, I want to take some blood, run some more tests, and get you to have another CAT scan, just to make absolutely sure we haven’t missed anything, if that’s okay with you.”

  Cantara shrugged. “Sure, but I feel fine.”

  “No more headaches?”

  “Well, it’s early days yet. I only recovered my memory a couple of days ago, but so far there have been none.”

  “Okay then, let’s get this done.”

  The blood was taken, then the nurse asked Cantara to follow her. “She’ll not be long,” she told the guys.

  “No problem. We’ll be in the waiting room,” Zeke replied.

  * * * *

  Cantara was taken to a cubicle where she was invited to strip off and don the ubiquitous hospital gown. Once she had done so, the nurse told her to take a seat in the anti-room and that someone would be right with her. Another gowned woman sat there, flipping through a magazine as she waited. She and Cantara nodded to one another—kindred spirits in unflattering clothing—but didn’t speak. An orderly popped his head around the door and called the other woman.

  “I’ll be right back for you, ma’am,” he said to Cantara. “You’re our last victim this morning.”

  Cantara smiled at the guy’s feeble attempt at humor, then sat twiddling her thumbs, not surprised when he didn’t come back immediately. Hospitals ran to their own timescales. She filled the time thinking about the events of the past twenty-four hours, nervous about the arrival of the military that afternoon, but anxious to get it over and done with. Levi had suffered almost as badly as she had. More so in some respects since she knew she was placing herself in danger when she volunteered for the role of go-between. Levi was simply doing his job. It must be the worst thing in the world to be separated from his family, to miss his children growing up, to have them think he was a traitor. She really hoped they could fix things for him—to say nothing of themselves.

  She hugged herself when she thought about all the things she and the guys got up to in the yellow room. They had spanked her again last night, then tied her up and took turns to fuck her until every bone in her body felt gloriously liquefied. She wanted them both at once, but Raoul, in his infinite wisdom, decreed she wasn’t strong enough yet. Cantara harrumphed and straightened her shoulders. She was perfectly willing to play submissive but hell would freeze over before either of them told her what she was or was not strong enough to attempt.

  “Come on,” she muttered, when the waiting appeared to stretch on forever.

  As she said it, the door opened behind her and an orderly in scrubs came into the room, but not the same one as before. She gathered up her purse but barely looked at him, until she heard the door lock click behind him. Her scalp prickled as she slowly looked into his face. She recognized him immediately.

  It was Romney, and this was clearly not a social visit.

  “You’re supposed to be dead,” he said accusingly.

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  Cantara was astonished when her voice sounded so level when her heart was pounding, and her pulse was racing out of control. At least the nagging feeling she’d been wrestling with all day now made sense. Why hadn’t they stopped to consider he might not be at the Pentagon? Because they hadn’t thought he would be stupid, or desperate enough, to come anywhere near her, Cantara supposed.

  “How did you know I would be here?” she asked.

  “I figured you’d run to your doctor just as soon as you got your memory back.” He shrugged. “I hacked into his appointments calendar and struck pay dirt.”

  “You won’t get away with whatever you’re planning to do. We know it was you who set Levi up, and then got daddy-in-law to clean up for you.”

  “Aw, he didn’t need to do that. Far as I was concerned, Levi could go down for the crime and that would be that.”

  “You didn’t plant convincing enough evidence against him.”

  He
did a one-shouldered shrug this time, arms folded across a disconcertingly solid-looking chest. “Where there’s smoke there’s fire.”

  “You didn’t stop to think they might look at you next?”

  “Your boyfriends didn’t.” He chuckled. “All this time, they’ve been fretting about what happened to you, chasing their tails trying to find Levi, and didn’t once think it could be me.”

  “They think so now. So Does Agent Parker and Colonel Hassan. You won’t get away. They’re looking for you.”

  “That’s okay. They won’t look here, but if you’d stayed dead, or at least brain-dead, it would have saved us both a heap of trouble.” He waved a syringe in the air and grabbed her arm. “Now don’t make a fuss. This will send you to sleep, no pain.” He giggled like a girl. “You’ll like it, trust me on this.”

  Shit, she was in trouble! He was twice her size and strength, and he had a damned good reason to want her dead.

  “You can’t kill everyone involved,” she said in a reasonable tone. “Raoul and Zeke know everything I remembered.”

  “Hearsay,” he said dismissively.

  “Not if Colonel Pool testifies against you.”

  “He won’t do that.” But Romney sounded a little less sure of himself. “He always puts his daughter ahead of everything else, and his daughter worships the ground I walk on.”

  “Don’t count on it.”

  She wanted to tell him they had Levi but if she mentioned him, would he give it up and disappear? Most likely not, but the only alternative was to die, here and now. It had to be worth a shot.

  “How do you think we found out the truth?” she asked.

  He fixed her with a chilling look. “Like I give a shit.”

  “We have Levi.” His head shot up and his grip on her arm momentarily loosened, but not enough for her to break free. Even if she did, the door was locked. She would never get past his bulk. “Pool brought him to the States, got him a new identity, a job, and he can prove it.”

  “Really!” He quirked a brow. “Too bad, but I shall instigate plan B and disappear after I’ve dealt with you. Shame that, I was hoping to build a bigger nest egg first, but Pool’s daughter is becoming a real nag. It’s time to move on to a younger model, as they say.”

  “If you’re leaving, there’s no need to kill me and have a murder charge hanging over your head. Raoul and Zeke will figure out it was you and will hunt you down.”

  He chuckled, a manic sound that chilled Cantara’s blood. “They haven’t done too good a job of finding me so far.”

  “They know who they’re looking for now. You’d never be able to stop looking over your shoulder, especially since the military now has a warrant out for your arrest.”

  “Touching of you to care, but I’ll take my chances, thanks all the same.”

  Hell, he really meant to do this. There had to be something she could do to help herself. She used to be able to get the better of men his size, but was still weak and out of practice in hand-to-hand combat. Where the heck was the real orderly? Was there a panic button she could reach? She saw the large red button in question on the opposite wall, tantalizingly just out of her reach. She delved into her purse behind her back with her free hand and searched frantically for the cell phone Raoul had given her. Who was the last person she’d called on it? Think, Cantara, think!

  It had to be one of the guys. Who else would she call? Yes, it was Zeke. He was in the paddock the previous afternoon, lunging Iesha, and Cantara had rang him to see if he needed anything. Trusting to luck that she hit the right button on a phone she wasn’t used to and couldn’t actually look at, she pressed last number redial. She barely had time to do so before Romney jerked her to her feet, his grip vicious, unbreakable.

  “Such a shame,” he muttered, putting his face up close to hers. “I always did have the hots for you, but there’s no time to do anything about it now. They’ll be wondering why you haven’t turned up for your scan.”

  “Where’s the orderly who should have collected me?” she asked, speaking as loud as she dared, hoping she was getting through to Zeke.

  “Oh, tied up in a cupboard. He’ll survive which, unfortunately, is more than can be said for you.”

  * * * *

  “They’re taking their sweet time,” Zeke remarked, flipping through a gun magazine.

  Raoul yawned and stretched his arms above his head. “Yeah well, I expect they’re backed up as usual.”

  “I still don’t get how we didn’t figure Romney for the traitor. It’s kinda obvious, when you think about it.”

  “Not so very obvious,” Raoul replied. “I hate to admit it, but he fooled me. Perhaps because we were always at odds with Pool and Romney went out of his way to smooth things over for us.”

  “Jerk!

  “Yeah well, at least we now know—”

  Zeke’s cell phone beeped. “You’re supposed to turn that thing off in here.”

  Zeke shot him a look, checked the caller display and jerked upright. “It’s Cantara.”

  “What!”

  They listened and heard Cantara asking what had happened to the real orderly.

  “Something’s wrong,” Raoul said tersely.

  Both men threw themselves from their chairs and ran in the direction of the CAT scan room. They asked the astonished receptionist where Cantara was and raced toward the room she indicated.

  “You can’t go in there,” she called after them.

  Raoul tried the door, but it was locked. Without a second’s thought he stood back, raised his foot and gave the lock a hefty kick. The door flew open and crashed against the inside wall, sending chunks of partitioning flying in the air. Raoul’s heart lurched when he saw Cantara losing her struggle with Romney. He had a syringe in his hand and was trying to inject her with its contents. Their arrival didn’t seem to faze him in the least and he increased his efforts to subdue Cantara, who was kicking, gouging and putting up one hell of a fight.

  The problem was, Romney was holding her too close for her blows to have much impact. Something needed to be done about that, but with that needle so close to her arm, Raoul couldn’t risk moving in and breaking Romney’s miserable neck, which every cell in his body urged him to do. If he did that, Romney would have ample time to inject Cantara with whatever deadly concoction he had in that syringe before Raoul and Zeke could save her. He drew in several shuddering breaths, forcing himself to calm down and assess the situation dispassionately. He had been trained to disassociate himself emotionally in tight situations and had never had a more compelling reason to employ that talent.

  “You’re a dead man, Romney,” Zeke said, his murderous expression so intent that even Raoul was intimidated by it. No one with an ounce of sense fucked with Zeke when he was in such an uncompromising mood. “Let her go.”

  “Not a chance. If I’m dead, I’m taking her with me.” He smirked. “Not quite so tough now are you, assholes?”

  “Is that your problem, Romney?” Raoul taunted. “You wanted to be one of the best but didn’t have the balls to make the grade, so you got daddy-in-law to fix you up with a nice safe desk job. But deep down inside you know you’re a coward, which means you have a grudge against the world and take out your frustrations on defenseless women.” Raoul shook his head as he continued to goad the creep. “That must make you feel like you actually have stones.”

  “You don’t know shit about me.”

  But Raoul’s words had the desired effect. While focusing his attention on Raoul, he momentarily loosened his hold on Cantara, affording her the opportunity she needed. Raoul could only watch, impotent, hoping she would understand what he had done and be quick enough to take advantage. He exchanged a proud smile with Zeke as he observed what happened next, wondering how he could ever have doubted her.

  “Just so we’re clear,” she said, “there’s absolutely nothing defenseless about me.”

  Before Romney could transfer his attention to her, Cantara demonstrated her point by
using the additional space now separating them to bring up her knee and deploy it in Romney’s groin with enough force to make even Raoul’s eyes water. Attagirl! The bastard had it coming. She followed up that move with a sharp chop to his windpipe with the side of her hand—a move which he and Zeke had taught her in a previous life. It saw the syringe fly from his hand and clatter to the floor. Romney, puce in the face and struggling to breathe, howled and slowly crumpled to his knees. He curled into a defensive ball as he nursed his damaged genitalia, but had the foresight to roll quickly out of the range of Raoul’s rapidly approaching feet. Unfortunately for him, that meant he landed right on top of the syringe.

  “This is getting to be a habit,” Cantara said in a shrill voice, presumably thinking of the time when she had dealt with Salim in a similar fashion.

  “Babe, are you okay?” Raoul caught her just before her knees buckled beneath her.

  “I obviously haven’t forgotten how to kick ass,” she replied with a feeble smile.

  “Thank God you had the presence of mind to call me,” Zeke said, moving in for a hug. “If I’d obeyed the rules and switched my phone off—”

  “I was counting on you not having done so,” Cantara replied as Raoul helped her to a chair. She was trembling so badly that he refused to let her go, even when she was seated. If this episode caused her any setbacks then Raoul wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

  “I’m gonna cause one hell of a stink with the hospital administrators over this,” he said, grinding his jaw as he continued to hold Cantara in a protective embrace, sensing her trembles slowly decreasing. “This is the one place where you ought to have been safe on your own.”

  “We should have figured he’d get worried when word leaked that Cantara had regained her memory,” Zeke said, checking Romney to ensure he had a pulse. “Unfortunately, he’s still alive.”

  “He hacked into Dr. Sanford’s appointment book,” Cantara said.

 

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