“I assure you, Agent Grant, Adelaide Banvard is no laughing matter.” Vicente’s tone stayed light, showing his enjoyment at Marcus’s disbelief.
“Another Banvard?” He shook his head. “What damage could she possibly do? Unless she knows how to use that mouth of hers.” He looked back at the photos, a little taken aback by such a creature. Marcus wouldn’t mind hanging around with Adelaide, sure she could teach him a few tricks.
“If you ever get close enough, you will find out for yourself.”
“All right,” he said. “Tell me about her then.”
Vicente kept his eyes on the tent where Christian Wren and his entourage waited for the event to begin. “When Adelaide was seven, she was kidnapped by a branch of the Mexican Mafia and taken to Mexico.” He paused. “There, she was trained as a fighter, killing every opponent in the ring she faced, the best of her kind.”
Marcus listened closely but let his eyes roam for the subject of their conversation. Harlow Vicente told a very captivating story.
“Because of the environment she was thrown into, the training, the fights and the murders, her mind broke, you could say.”
“Broke?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “What? Like a nervous breakdown?” He’d be undercover to arrest a man who employed a crazy person? His personal vendetta just got better.
Vicente seemed to ponder the question and looked down to the photos Marcus still held in his hand. “There are two sides to Adelaide. One, you see on the outside. She is calm, calculating, mostly cold. She refuses to speak to anybody, but this other side of her brain, if you want to call it that, is bloodthirsty and will stop at nothing to get what it wants. All the while, Adelaide remains dominant as long as she’s sedated.”
Marcus looked down toward the private tent again, finally able to recognize the woman he’d been searching for. He studied Adelaide as she pulled her white-blonde hair up into a ponytail, placing a helmet over her head. “She doesn’t look sedated to me.” He stared a little longer. “Wouldn’t that be a little careless to let her ride a dirt bike?”
The racers revved their cycles, getting into place at the starting line. With the crowd cheering so loud, Marcus couldn’t even think straight. The shot sounded, the music got louder and the racers kicked up dirt behind them.
He had to raise his voice over the noise. “Where did these come from?” He shook the photos at Vicente. “How do you know all this?”
Vicente stood with the rest of the audience, cheering, and gave him a knowing smile. “Because I’m the one who kidnapped her.” He let the information sink into Marcus’s head for a moment. “To get to Christian, you must go through Adelaide. And to get to her, you must go through Taigen.” He moved toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Marcus stood to follow.
“You wanted a meeting with Wren,” Vicente said with a smile. “Let’s go get you one.”
* * *
The tent wasn’t keeping the heat away, melting the ice in Christian’s drink quickly.
He placed the glass to his head, hoping the ice would get rid of the sheen of sweat on his brow. It didn’t. His suit stuck to him like skin, soaked from his perspiration, but he never complained. “How’s she doing?” he asked without looking up from his paperwork.
Maps, financials, and blueprints stole his attention as he tried to strategize a way to retrieve his missing shipment from Vicente. Over fifty thousand dollars’ worth of weapons had been taken from behind his back and Christian fully intended to see their safe return in time for his next deal with the DA. He wasn’t going to rest until those weapons landed back in his hands.
“So far so good,” Taigen responded, taking a sip of his drink.
He looked away from the paperwork in front of him, glancing at the arena. He saw Adelaide clearly and smiled.
She enjoyed outings like this, although she’d never admit it. He’d noticed a long time ago her moods had calmed after she’d spent time outdoors. She wouldn’t need her medication as often when she wore herself out, but it took a lot to wear her out.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed two men approaching the tent, but didn’t bother to inquire further. He had bodyguards for a reason and focused his attention back to the situation at hand.
Tonight Adelaide would take something of Vicente’s, but Christian had to make sure they would never meet. All of his hard work would be lost if she discovered her kidnapper alive and well. He’d lose her for good. He stared at the blueprints harder to regain his focus.
“Mr. Wren?” a booming voice called.
Christian looked up to his part-time bodyguard in annoyance. “What is it?”
The necessity of part-time bodyguards annoyed the hell out of him. He hated each and every moment Adelaide wasn’t by his side, but she couldn’t stay with him constantly. She needed to smother those bloodthirsty urges without taking lives. Even so, he felt vulnerable, empty, anxious.
Taigen turned in his chair toward the two waiting men.
“They claim to have an appointment with you, Mr. Wren,” the muscle said.
“What do they want?” Taigen asked, sipping at his drink again. “Are they selling any cold water? My ice melted.”
“No, sir. I don’t believe they are.” The bodyguard stood motionless for a moment. “Do you want me to let them in?”
Before Christian could answer, someone called out.
“You want to let us in, Christian.”
He froze. The way his name rolled off the man’s tongue pulled at memories he’d long buried. Looking toward the sound, he let the shock of what he saw overcome him for a moment.
Speak of the devil.
Taigen rose abruptly. “What the hell are you doing here?” Anger visibly rolled off his shoulders and into his hands. “I should kill you where you stand, you son of a bitch.” Taigen took a step forward, ready to fight. The fury in his bright blue eyes told Christian murder preoccupied every thought of his bodyguard, and when a gun appeared in Taigen’s hand, the theory solidified.
“Taigen,” Christian called out. “Go get me some ice.”
A mixture of disbelief and anger flitted over Taigen’s features. “You’ve got to be kidding me. After everything he’s done to her, you want me to just walk away?” He didn’t wait for an answer, leaving the tent without another word.
Christian only hoped it wasn’t to find a bigger gun. He motioned his visitors inside then stood, setting his drink on the table nearby.
“You look good,” the visitor said. His accent slithered along Christian’s skin just as he remembered. The curly hair and deep scar across his throat was familiar, too.
“Harlow,” Christian greeted him through gritted teeth. “Have you come to return my guns?”
Harlow Vicente extended his hand. “It’s been too long, Christian.”
He ignored the gesture, waiting for an answer to his question. He hadn’t seen this man in almost ten years, hopeful he’d never see him again after the night of the fire. “So much for being dead.”
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” Harlow said and turned toward the man he’d brought with him.
Christian didn’t recognize the second man. Apprehension slid through his veins. The stranger looked like a cop. The clothes, the clean-shaven face and the way the man’s eyes darted from person to person reminded him of Scott, the undercover agent who’d nearly put him behind bars.
Taller than Christian, with short brown hair, the man didn’t have blue eyes as bright as Taigen’s electric blue, but close. His strong jaw accentuated the seriousness of his face but showed signs of age.
“You brought the cops with you. What do you want?” he asked, taking his seat again. He looked out into the arena to watch Adelaide’s progress, satisfied to see her bike in second place.
The authorities couldn’t touch him, especially since the evidence of his wrongdoings had disappeared. Certain Scott Lively’s body had been found by now, he smiled privately to himself. The
y’d never get their hands on the ledger.
Harlow took Taigen’s seat and looked out at the race. “She looks good. Better than the last time I saw her.”
“Don’t even speak her name,” Christian warned, glaring at Harlow as he took a sip from his glass. From the tone of his voice, the extra muscle positioned around the tent moved closer. He waved them off, waiting for Harlow to explain his visit.
“I would like to offer you an opportunity.”
“Unless you’re returning my shipment, I don’t want to hear it.” He turned back to the paperwork in his lap.
Taigen stepped back into view with a glass of ice in hand. “Did I miss anything?”
“They were just leaving,” Christian said. Anxiety built inside his chest to the point he could barely breathe. If Adelaide saw her kidnapper—he didn’t even want to think about what would happen.
“Leaving?” Harlow asked. “I think not, Christian. This isn’t a deal that you can turn away from. You’ll want to hear me out.”
Taigen moved between Christian’s seat and Harlow. The look in his eyes spelled out what he wanted: a fight.
Harlow looked up at the tall, lean muscle that made up every Banvard, and smiled. “Do you know who I am, boy? What I can do to you?”
“I know what you did to my sister and that’s all I care about.” The words left Taigen’s mouth through clenched teeth, his tone and body language ominous.
Christian wasn’t in the mood for a fight and so he raised his gaze to the visitors. Pieces of his hair fell down around his shoulders, but he didn’t move to replace them. “I don’t think you understand, Harlow.” He leaned forward in his chair, hoping to convey his message clearly. “The second she sees you, you’re a dead man and all of my work for the past ten years will be ruined. So when I say there is nothing I want from you, I’m saving your life.”
Harlow didn’t move.
“Suit yourself.” Christian leaned back in his chair, waiting for them to leave. The crowd’s gasp filled his ears.
Intuitively, his heart sank.
Looking back toward the race, he searched the track but couldn’t locate Adelaide. He studied each of the racers, their uniforms, their bikes. He couldn’t see her.
“Looks like there’s been an accident,” Harlow said, rising from his chair. “Think about what I said, Christian. It will be a grand opportunity for you and your company to get back what you’ve lost.”
Christian ignored him, rising from his own chair, his thoughts running a mile a minute with the possibility of losing something else of his. His paperwork fell onto the ground as he raced toward the retaining wall separating the dirt track from the arena seats.
Taigen pointed. “There!”
He looked in the direction his bodyguard indicated and felt his stomach drop.
The bike’s tires rotated slowly, grinding into the dirt, but the bike itself had tipped onto its side and ejected her.
“Find her,” he ordered, removing his suit jacket and tie.
Taigen leapt over the retaining wall to find his sister. He dodged the other racers nimbly and stopped at the top of a hill to look down.
Christian followed. His pants bunched up, probably ruined, but he didn’t care. Adelaide consumed his thoughts. As he reached the top of the hill, paramedics swarmed around a single body with white-blonde hair at the bottom.
* * *
“What was that about?” Marcus asked as they rushed out of the stadium. “We didn’t get anywhere.” He exhaled in frustration. Wren had just sat there, not bothering to even look at him, the man who’d take him down, the man who’d just lost his best friend. “I thought you were going to get me a meeting. You only played with him!”
“Exactly, Agent Grant. I was using bait.”
They walked across the parking lot in a hurry, converging on Marcus’s car in one of the front stalls.
“I had to make sure he saw you with me.” Harlow opened the passenger door and got inside.
Marcus did the same, getting himself strapped in behind the wheel. “That’s your way in? What a complete waste of time!”
“There will be more meetings, Agent Grant. I assure you.”
“More meetings?” He hit the steering wheel with his palm. The frustration threatened to explode. “I don’t have time for more meetings. He’s a murderer.” His thumb hiked back toward the arena. “Do you know how many men have died trying to bring him down?”
Vicente didn’t look amused. “And you want to be one of those men, Agent Grant?” He paused, but not for an answer. “These things take time. He must learn to trust you first, then you will see.”
* * *
The white satin surrounded Adelaide, making her seem more like an angel than the demon she could become at any second.
Christian watched her as she slept. She looked peaceful, but he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, her dry skin and matted hair, and wished he knew what could be done to help her. He remembered when they’d first brought her in to the compound, the first time he’d laid eyes on her. She’d been an angel with a dirty face.
Adelaide’s eyes fluttered open and she clenched the sheets between her fingers before sitting up in the bed. Her breathing grew fast and labored before she finally laid eyes on him.
“Here,” he said from the chair, shoving the tiny syringe into the flesh of her arm. Christian leaned forward, resting his chin against his clasped hands when he finished and waited.
Magnificent. Short, slender, feminine and ruled by two dangerous personalities, Adelaide claimed a part of him he’d thought he’d lost. Love. The fact she’d almost died today hit him hard.
“No more racing,” Christian ordered.
Her facial expression eased and her breathing slowed as the drug she depended on took control. But when she reopened her eyes, her face had grown hard. Adelaide rose from the bed, gathering her clothes from the floor.
“Where are you going?” he demanded. “You need to rest.”
She stood motionless for a moment, then walked around the bed as he’d motioned for her.
Christian looked up at her, once again noticing the dark circles under her eyes, the hollowness of her cheeks and her cracked lips. A dark bruise formed across one side of her face from the accident. “You need to be ready for tonight.”
She reached forward with a shaky hand and brushed the hair back out of his eyes. Her lips pulled into a smile, ensuring him she’d live.
Christian rose from the chair, immediately at ease with her carefree attitude, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Pulling her to him, he moved his lips closer to her ear, whispering, “What is it that you want from me, Adie?”
Chapter Six
Adelaide pulled Christian by his suit collar to the edge of the bed, letting him collapse on top of her. She tried to think of an answer to his question but knew she’d never trust him enough to respond. Her life had been out of control since she’d met him, forcing her mind to split in two. She wanted her life back, a chance to live on her own, but not without cost. She needed money and medication or she’d have to live with the monster every second of her life.
Christian supplied both and his trust would only help.
Don’t be like that, my love, it whispered. We make a great team, don’t you think?
Christian had cared for her when she’d needed it the most. He’d saved her. He could control her dark side with a single touch and could kill her with even less effort. The memory of her rescue forced its way to the tip of her mind as he slowly kissed the scars she’d received in her cell.
It’d been her first memory of the monster and Christian had refused to recognize the problem for two more years. She’d suffered in silence, her mind waging war against itself. And he hadn’t cared.
Adelaide hated him. She owed him her life but had fantasized the different ways she’d cut his throat, throw him off of a building or strangle him to death. The possibilities weighed heavily in her mind, but fear kept her in place. What wou
ld become of her then?
Christian kissed her harder than before, breaking the skin on her lips.
The taste of blood filled her mouth as he nicked her lips with his teeth. Sooner or later, she would return the favor, but it wouldn’t be so painless.
* * *
No more than two feet wide, the vent led to most of the rooms inside the building. Adelaide had memorized the route for a specific room and the blueprints Christian had given her indicated the vent passed right over her target.
Slithering on her stomach inches at a time, she grew closer to the grate she wanted. The fans rotating at the other end of the duct assaulted her ears but she listened for more.
She centered herself over an opening in the vent, looking directly down on top of a security guard’s balding head. Christian’s words rang through her head as she continued on. Take everything you can, he’d said. Make it hurt.
She would, but not for him.
The two black 9mm guns strapped to her waist felt weightless as she slithered easily. She watched the guards below walk slowly back and forth through the hallways, their movements almost hypnotic.
Counting six in total, she slid along the smooth metal surface, making as little noise as possible. She noted the grate only a few more feet in front of her. She saw the open vent leading into the vault and, according to her information, she’d find Harlow Vicente’s wealth there.
Careful not to put her full weight on the opening, Adelaide rotated into position. Slowly removing the black bag from her shoulders, she set it against the side of the vent for access. The equipment, previously assembled for convenience, attached easily to the water main above her head. She carefully wrapped the harness around her frame, removing the grate quietly from the opening.
And froze. Footsteps echoed down the bare hallways.
Replacing the vent, she listened to the mundane conversation of the two guards below as she waited for them to move on, her own breath loud in her ears.
Let Me Out (For Me, #1) Page 6