“Don’t worry, it will work out. Trust me?”
She nodded and sniffled. The door slid open, and Funkai entered, Walter and his friends hard on his heels. All of them were dressed in suits, as if going to a business meeting. A definite change in appearance from the day before.
“I trust you were well taken care of?” He asked the question of both of them, but his attention was fixated on Libby. Brady rose to his feet and blocked their view.
“Yes, we were. You have my weapons?”
He nodded and motioned for Walter to give them back. Walter did so begrudgingly.
“Do you need anything else?”
“No, we’ll be on our way.” Libby stood and took her weapons from him, storing them.
“Ms. Wainwright, I hope you find your father soon. I didn’t like that young man with him.”
“Young man?” Brady knew his voice was sharp, but ignored the strange look Funkai shot him.
“Yes.” Funkai frowned. “They fought constantly; I have no idea about what.”
“What was the man’s name?”
“Tony Freemont.”
Chapter Eleven
Brady marched along the path, not looking back once in the last thirty minutes, but Libby was sure he wore the same scowl he’d had since he found out about Tony. Jesus, he looked at her as if she’d lied to him. She hadn’t. She’d forgotten, but he didn’t want to discuss it.
Since then, he’d been silent as a tomb, and as pleasant as having your teeth drilled. She continued on behind him, sweat dribbling down her back. Without stopping, she pulled out her water and began drinking. She was tired. Very tired. Not only were her muscles sore from walking, but they ached from their activities the night before.
“Are we stopping for lunch?”
He grunted a response.
“Is that a ‘yes’ grunt or a ‘no’ grunt?”
“We should be there soon.”
“There, as in the place where the legendary emerald --”
“Yes.”
“Listen, Brady, I forgot about Tony. Walter told me about him, and then they had that meeting and... Are you listening to me?”
He grunted again, and she lost her temper. She stopped walking and took a deep breath before she started shouting.
“Listen, you jackass. I forgot.” He stopped and turned, his eyes narrowed in agitation or anger. She didn’t give a damn which. She was hot and tired and just wanted to go home and sleep, but she had to find her father. And he wasn’t making it easy. “It wasn’t foremost in my mind when the damn freaks back at that place started telling me that I had to have sex and be observed while doing it. Did you think I was thinking of my ex-husband then? Jesus, Brady I was worried you were going to start fighting them and then they would kill you. Why the hell I love such a pigheaded jackass, I’ll never know. My father said you would be a pain in the ass, and he was right. I have no idea why --”
He closed the distance between them. Without saying a word, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She pulled back from him, and he tried to follow.
“Brady, we don’t have time for that.”
“Lass, the woman I love tells me she loves me, I have to kiss her.” His voice was thick with emotion, and the sound of it made her eyes sting. “I’m sorry I was such an ass, but I was worried you were trying to protect your ex-husband.”
“I would never protect Tony. Anything that happens to him, he deserves.”
He smiled. “We have a lot of things to discuss, you and I, like why you felt the need to leave all those years ago. But right now we’ll find your father, and then get the hell out of here.” He sobered. “I do love you; you know that, don’t you, Libby?”
“Yes.”
“How very touching.”
They turned their heads simultaneously, and Libby gasped when she saw her ex-husband surrounded by three large ruffians. All of them were armed to the teeth.
“Tony Freemont, I take it.” Brady released her and shoved her behind his back.
“Brady St. James.” Tony nodded in Brady’s direction, stepped forward, and punched Brady in the jaw. Not ready for the punch, Brady fell back on his butt.
“Tony, what the hell are you doing?”
“He deserved it, the son of a bitch.”
Brady came to his feet ready to attack, but she stopped him. “Brady, you’ll never win. They have more guns, more knives, and more muscle.” He glanced at the other men and nodded curtly.
“What do you mean, he deserved it? He’s done nothing to you.”
Tony’s pale gray eyes narrowed while he studied them. He’d always been a lean man, but he looked almost gaunt now. His cheeks were caved in, his bones more pronounced. His hair was thinning, and his general appearance was of a man who was unwell.
“What did he do to me? You stupid bitch, you know exactly what he did to me.”
Oh, God, she’d forgotten about that mess. “Really, Tony. That wasn’t Brady’s fault. And I am sure you don’t want everyone to know about that.”
Tony glanced around at everyone watching with rabid interest. “Well, I guess you will save me from that one humiliation, huh, Liberty?”
“Where is my father?”
“I have no idea, but it doesn’t matter.” Calm, cool. The tone in his voice irritated her. It was as if they were discussing a missing golf club.
“It matters to me.”
“He’s not the one I need.” He looked over her shoulder at Brady. “But I’m so glad that you brought me exactly who I do need.”
“Brady?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, and he shrugged.
“Yes, Brady. Jesus, don’t you know who you’ve been screwing like a freaking bunny for the last few days?” A smiled stretched across his lips, but there was no humor at all in it. “Your Saint is just the man I need. A direct descendent of Irish blood -- royal, at that. He must go into the cave to retrieve my emerald.”
* * * * *
They were taken down a deep incline into a cavern, one of the thugs in front, Tony next, then Libby and Brady. Libby had never seen that look in Tony’s eyes, and she was really frightened. Truly. He seemed to have gone over the edge. He really believed in the power of some damn emerald.
She glanced at Brady, who was grinding his teeth. She knew he was itching to fight Tony, and really, it would only take one punch and Tony would be out for a day or two. A bruise was forming on Brady’s jaw where Tony had hit him.
They reached the bottom of what looked like a dried-up riverbed. The guards stayed behind them, and Tony looked around the area.
“You’ll be happy to know, Liberty, that your father was well last time I saw him. Of course, he left me to fend for myself with only one bottle of water. That’s why I had to hire some help.” His voice was as calm as if he were ordering a salad or conducting a business meeting.
“What was the disagreement about?” Brady asked the question in just as cool a voice.
“Sterling thought we should turn the emerald over when we found it.” He picked a piece of lint off his jacket. “I didn’t.”
“You’re saying you did nothing to him?”
“Yes. Last I saw of him was his backside. Now, are you ready to go in and get the emerald?”
“I’ve decided I don’t like caves, make me uncomfortable.”
“Oh?” Tony’s gaze moved to the men behind them, and one of them grabbed her. He put a stungun to her head. “I think that should convince you to get over your problem.”
* * * * *
Brady inwardly cursed. He should have seen that coming. But really, he hadn’t thought Freemont had the balls to order the murder of his ex-wife. Apparently greed and insanity helped him come to that decision.
“You know, I understand a stungun to the head is a particularly painful death.” Freemont’s voice was sickly sweet. Every instinct told Brady to hold back, play it cool, but inside, anger churned his gut as he watched the blood drain out of Libby’s face. He’d w
aited six fucking years, long years, waiting and wondering if he would get her back again. No punk-ass corporate shill was going to take her away from him now.
He swallowed his rage and stepped forward. “What do I have to do?”
“Nothing much. The legend says that one of pure Irish blood must enter the cave to retrieve the emerald. Once you leave the cave, you can give it to me, and you’re free to go with Liberty.”
“How do I know you won’t do something to her while I’m in there?”
“You don’t. But your choice is take a chance or stay here and watch her die.”
He curled his fingers into his palms, trying to fight the urge to wrap his fingers around the bastard’s neck. “You can come with me.” It was a spur of the moment idea, and one he hoped the jackass was stupid enough to take him up on.
Tony thought for a moment, his pale eyes studying Brady. “I guess I could. Nothing says that I can’t be there, just that the only person to bring the stone out should be Irish.” He turned to his goons. “If you hear anything, or if he comes out alone, kill her. Ready?”
Tony nodded. He looked at Libby and fought the anguish that had him wanting to roar. She wasn’t in pain, and she wasn’t falling apart. Not his Libby. She was tough. But he could see the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing hitched every now and then. He knew she was fighting her own fear... for him... for herself.
“You touch her, harm her, even think about her, I will hunt you down and castrate you.”
They didn’t say a word, but he could tell that they understood he meant every word.
“I’ll follow you, Saint.”
Brady walked into the cave, trying his best to fight the overwhelming sense that they were heading for a disaster. He just hoped he’d stalled long enough to give Libby some time to come up with a plan.
* * * * *
Libby drew in a deep breath and tried to fight the fear that clogged her throat. She didn’t trust Tony; he’d gone completely over the edge. Never before had she seen anything so cold, calculating, or downright crazy in his eyes. He really believed all the crap about being able to rule the universe while in possession of an emerald. She was trying her best not to scream from the pressure. She wasn’t sure how the guards would take it.
It was just her rotten luck that she finally figured out that taking chances and letting loose wasn’t all that bad, and her whacked-out ex-husband had to show up and screw up the whole damn thing. She’d laugh, but she wasn’t so sure she could keep from crying.
The guards had let her sit on a huge rock near the side of the entrance to the cave. She rubbed her arms as a cool breezed blew across her skin. The second sun was starting to set, and the dampness in the air made it seem even colder. Trying not to draw attention to herself, she studied her guards from beneath her lashes. There was no way to overpower them, but there might be a way to outwit them. As she jumped from idea to idea, she heard the rustling of leaves behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. A murmur of voices drifted toward her.
Before she could blink, the area was swarming with men dressed in black suits. She couldn’t make out one from another, but she knew they were human. They came in, stunguns drawn. There was a lot of shouting and scuffling, but soon the guards had been subdued, unarmed, and surrounded by a sea of black.
Two men separated from the group. Both wore the same fitted black suits as the other men, but these men she knew. Robbie Masters and John Hunter walked toward her, both of them with expressions that looked like they wanted to kill someone. She just hoped it wasn’t her.
“What are you two doing here?”
“Saving your ass, and Saint’s.” Hunter said. “Where the hell is he?”
“In the cave with Tony.”
“Shit.” This came from Masters.
“What do you want to do?” John asked him.
Masters studied her, then looked at John. “If we go in, he might freak.”
“Too late for that.”
Both men shot her a silencing look.
“Why do you say that?” John asked.
“Well, for one, he’s slipped over the edge. I mean gone completely insane.”
Masters nodded. “I have to agree. We’ve had him under surveillance for months. His behavior is erratic. We just have to figure out what to do.”
“I can go.”
“You?” both men said together.
“Yes, me. He hears you all, he’ll freak out and maybe kill Brady. He isn’t expecting me to pop into the cave, but he sees me as less of a threat.”
“Hmm, it could work,” Masters mused.
“Masters, Saint will kick your ass, you take her in there.”
“Do you see another way?”
John sighed and shook his head. “We’ll back you up.” He handed her a stungun, and she shook her head.
“Knives. I’m really good with knives.”
* * * * *
“According to this passage --” Freemont held up a printed sheet close to his face, trying to read it. “-- it says that you should find the emerald in the pool of water behind you.”
Brady looked around the dim cave and tried to repress a shudder. The only thing he hated more than heights was dark, enclosed spaces. It smelled of mold and salt. Strange, but he figured the pool Freemont was talking about was from an underground saltwater spring. This area of Dranirick was known for its salt lakes.
He ambled over to the pool while trying to fight the clawing panic inside of him. They were so far in the cave, he couldn’t hear what was happening on the outside. And that terrified him more than climbing mountains. He prayed he would make it out before anything else happened to Libby. He had to distract Freemont while he thought up a plan.
“So, what was it that you hit me for, Freemont?”
He peered over the rocks to look into the pond. It looked like a hot spring, steam rising off the water, but the scent of salt was almost overwhelming.
“You mean Libby didn’t tell you?”
“Uh, we haven’t been doing much talking.”
“Figures. The damn woman was cold as ice every time I touched her. Nothing I did in bed would please her.” Brady fought a smile and lost. He looked over his shoulder at Freemont, who was glowering at him. “See anything?”
“No. So, that’s it. That’s what you hit me for?”
He didn’t answer for a few seconds. “No. I hit you because the last time we made love was the first time she ever climaxed.”
Brady frowned. “And?”
“She called out your name.”
He turned and looked at Freemont, who was frowning again. He couldn’t stop the laugh that erupted.
“Oh, man. I deserved that hit. Damn, I’d be ready to cut your balls off if she had done that to me.”
Freemont’s hand tightened around the gun. “Just get the fucking emerald, and you can have your precious Liberty back. Just hope that the men out there don’t think that maybe they want a little taste. ”
Brady bit back his panic, looked into the water, and saw nothing but blackness. He knew the legend was a hoax, but there was no way Freemont was going to believe him. With each minute that passed, he knew Libby was in danger a minute longer. But he couldn’t lose control. If he did, he would fall apart and wouldn’t be able to keep Libby safe. And once they were free, he didn’t care if she wanted to spend their lives together making schedules and spouting off about ethics. As long as they spent it together -- that was all he cared about.
“Do you see it?” Freemont’s voice had tightened in anticipation and was edging toward hysteria.
Think. There had to be something to distract him and get the stungun away from the bastard. Then it came to him in one blinding flash. He reached into the water, cupping his hands.
“Freemont! Come look. It’s beautiful.”
A flurry of footsteps approached him, and when he knew Freemont was close enough, Brady turned, splashing his face with the salt water.
Freemont screamed.
“Ahhhh, my eyes!”
“Brady!” Libby called from somewhere behind Freemont. He swung around, still not able to see, and lifted his stungun. Brady was on his feet and jumping on him within seconds, but not before Freemont got off a shot. He landed on top of Freemont, the stungun flying out of the man’s hands and skidding across the stone floor.
Brady lifted his head and was on his feet before he could think. Libby lay on her back, a burn on her shoulder. Real, mind-numbing terror rushed through him. Jesus, no. He knelt beside her and couldn’t think of what he should do next. She wasn’t moving.
“Brady.”
He looked up at the sound of Hunter’s voice, but he couldn’t think.
“Does she have a pulse?”
Right. Pulse. He felt for one, and relief edged away the fear as he felt her heart beat steady and strong.
“It looks like just a flesh wound, but I want to put some salve on it,” Masters said as he leaned over as if to pick her up.
“Don’t touch her. I’ll carry her.” His voice was hoarse with anguish. Both men stepped back. Hunter went to gather up Freemont, who Brady heard blabbering about the emerald.
Gently, he slid one arm behind her neck and the other beneath her knees. He rose, and she murmured something against his neck. The warm breath against his skin made him want to sing.
“Brady.”
“Yeah, love.”
“My shoulder hurts.”
He chuckled. “I know, love.”
“Next time, you’re taking the hit, Brady.”
A lump clogged his throat. “You got it, Libby.”
Chapter Twelve
Hot, blinding pain burned Libby’s shoulder and radiated through her body. She tried to sit up, to walk off the pain, but something was holding her down. Struggling, she slapped at the barrier holding her down.
“Libby, love. You have to stay still so Hunter can apply the medicine to your wound.”
She tried opening her eyes, but she didn’t have the strength to lift her eyelids.
“It hurts.” She couldn’t keep the pain out of her voice. “I just don’t want to deal with it anymore.”
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