by Kitty DuCane
“I'll kill her. After I fuck her, of course. She's such a beauty, don't you agree?”
“I told you, Manuel, leave her out of this. Besides, she's sick. She's throwing up and sweating, with tremors.”
“I did notice she looked a little peaked. I'll have my doctor look at her when we land. Besides, it's your fault, Hayden. If you had come on board with me two years ago, you would have never met her, and she wouldn't be the bargaining chip.”
Hayden's brain churned over what Manuel said. It was true. He should have left her alone and gone to that island. Then she'd be safe. He should have never…fallen in love with her. He should have never known that she liked chocolate ice cream or that her laugh touched him. Or that she snored little puffs of air.
“Or if you hadn't fucked her, Hayden, more than once, I might add, then she would be of no value to you or to me. But you couldn't resist that sweet little cunt, could you?”
Hayden replaced his guilt with anger. He fumed, boiled, seethed. His brain worked overtime. Manuel would kill them both when he got what he wanted.
But what price would she have to pay?
“Here's the deal. You will go to the abandoned warehouse at 27 North 37th Street two nights from now. You will make sure there are no DEA agents within a hundred miles of the warehouse. If I get any reports of any, you can say good-bye to your lovely cunt, and I'll mail her back to you—in pieces.”
Hayden cringed. She wasn't his cunt. She was his other half, the half that made him whole, made life worth living. Hayden's wolf prowled around inside him, anxious, clawing to escape the human cage.
“Are you still with me, Hayden?”
“Yes,” Hayden said through clenched teeth.
“Good. At approximately midnight, thirty-two tractor-trailer trucks should arrive. Julio will meet you there with the manifest. Each truck has a buyer. You are to collect the money and relinquish the truck to the new driver. The old drivers will get on a school bus. When the last trailer is gone, the bus can leave.
“And here's the good part, Hayden. Then you'll kill Julio. Heart or head, I don't care.”
“You want me to kill your nephew?”
“Yes. He's become ineffective lately. I'm sure you'll enjoy the kill, since he tried to kill your precious cunt.”
Hayden admitted it was appealing on some level.
“You will take Julio's car and all my money and drive to the abandoned Dade-Collier airport. You know the place. You busted a shipment of mine there a few years ago. You will get on the plane and bring my money to me.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I own you after you do this, but I'm a fair man. You can have your woman back when I tire of her. Did you know she had a black lacy bustier complete with black stockings and a garter belt in a filthy knapsack she had stuffed under her clothes?”
Hayden closed his eyes, imagining her dressed for him and no one else.
“She tempted me with that image at the country club the other day. That's the first thing I'm going to do, dress her up in that. My cock's already twitching.”
His wolf pushed against his cell, growling. Hayden didn't trust Manuel to keep his word. Hayden was sure that he'd never see her alive, but damn if he wasn't going to make Manuel pay.
“And what makes you think that I'm going to hand over the money and not kill you?”
“Why, the video of course. You don't think I would miss the opportunity of you collecting millions of dollars in exchange for drugs, do you? And don't forget the murder of Julio as well. You would look nice on the evening news, don't you think? Make sure you smile for the camera. You see, if I die, the video will be sent to all the news channels, as well as the DEA.”
Hayden could care less about his reputation. Manuel was going to die. Just as soon as he could get to him.
“I need to run. Your lovely cunt should be waking up at any time, and I can't wait to change her into that sexy black lace. Remember, Hayden, if you try to fuck me over, I will fuck her to death—literally—and enjoy doing so.”
Hayden snapped his cell closed. He had a lot to do over the next two days, and a bunch of favors to call in.
Chapter Sixteen
Victoria eyes fluttered open. She was lying in a white canopy bed, like the one she'd always wanted as a child, but her dad had trained her to sleep on the floor instead, with only minimal comfort. She lay perfectly still, trying to get her bearings, trying to remember what had happened. Her mind was fuzzy, her belly rolled, and her body was covered in a heavy sweat.
She closed her eyes to think, to snatch something from memory. She remembered being a bag lady in the street outside Manuel's. She remembered seeing Julio and Manuel, and she remembered pulling her guns. Then something had stung her, and she'd blacked out. She blinked. Her failure flooded her.
A single tear slid down her cheek. She had failed her dad, failed to get the revenge he so deserved.
She heard a door open, and several booted feet echoed on the wooden floor, followed by the chambering of bullets in rifles. Any plan she might have had, had just gone to hell.
“Ah, you're awake.”
Manuel stood beside her bed wearing a smug smile. She leveled cool eyes at him. God, how she hated him.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I want to know why you want to kill me,” he said.
She smirked. “I promise to tell you right before I kill you.”
His eyes danced with amusement. “I do love to break a strong woman. They make the best pets.”
“Fuck you.”
Irritation flashed across his hard face. “If you fuck with me, puta, I will kill your Hayden.”
She forced a laugh. “Go ahead. He means nothing to me.”
“Are you sure? You two have been quite cozy.”
“Yeah. He was a good fuck, but that was all.” The lie stuck in her throat. She didn't want Hayden dead; she just didn't want to know if he was the mole, or if he'd been allowed to escape the ambush. She pushed whatever she felt for Hayden away. She needed to concentrate on the weasel standing before her.
“Are you sure?” asked Manuel.
“Hell, I escaped him three times. Besides, he's a traitor, and I hate traitors. He likes to play games, and I'm not into games.”
“What game are you playing now? Why do you want to kill me?”
“You're a murderer. All murderers need to die.”
“So now you're judge, jury, and executioner? Don't you believe in following the law?”
“I'm like you. I don't need the law to tell me if and when you need to die.”
“You have such fire. It flashes in your eyes. That's how I captured you, you know. I recognized your eyes. Even that hideous disguise couldn't distract me from the haunting flame burning in them.”
She rolled her eyes at that. Nobody remembered her eyes. It was always her hair.
“That brings me to a very important question. What is your name?”
She smiled. “I'll tell you right before I kill you.”
His laugh was eerie, scraping along the sensitive cells of her body like fingernails on a chalkboard. Her need to kill was strong, burning like a bitter acid in her throat. Her belly seized, and she seriously thought about throwing up on him.
“I'm going to be sick.”
“I had my doctor look at you. She said that you are suffering from some kind of withdrawal, but you have no drugs in your system. It's strange, very strange. What are you withdrawing from?”
She flung off the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed, surprised to find that she was wearing the black teddy, which was highly inappropriate to wear while throwing up her guts. Her belly lurched. Manuel stepped aside and pointed to a door. She barely reached the commode. The dry heaves that followed were the worst.
Manuel stood in the doorway. “Get back to bed, and I'll get Dr. Zellia to give you something for your stomach.”
She could only nod before she heaved again.
When she finally emerged fr
om the bathroom, she was surprised to find the room empty. Well, alone physically; the guards outside her door and whoever was watching the cameras didn't count.
She fell into bed with a moan. Damn, Hayden. What did you do to me?
She was almost asleep when the door opened again. Victoria glanced at the woman who entered. She was beautiful, with dark eyes, dark hair, and dark skin. She walked with a limp, and her left wrist was bandaged.
“Hello. I'm Dr. Zellia.”
Victoria managed a weak smile and wondered how far this doctor would go for Manuel. Did she administer death when Manuel demanded it?
“You need to tell me what you're withdrawing from.”
I wish I knew.
“Nothing. I haven't taken anything. I was in the hospital a couple of weeks ago for a migraine, but since then, I haven't even taken an aspirin. Don't like the stuff.”
Zellia touched Victoria's forehead. “Well, if you've got a virus, it's not like any I've ever seen. How long have you been sick?”
“Two or three days.”
“Well, let's hope it runs its course quickly.”
Victoria agreed with that statement. She felt like shit.
“You've also got a bite on your shoulder. It looks strange, like an animal bite. It has distinct markings that I don't recognize. It shows no signs of infection, but it also looks like it doesn't want to heal. I'll keep you on the antibiotics anyway.”
Animal bite? The good doctor must be mistaken. It was a human bite, one Hayden gave her.
Dr. Zellia poured a glass of water and handed it to her. Then she pulled two pills from her pocket. “This is an antinausea med. It will calm your stomach.”
“But it will make me sleepy.” Which was the last thing Victoria wanted.
“That's okay. I'll start an IV drip when you go to sleep. You haven't consumed anything since you got here, and we don't need you dehydrating on my watch.”
Victoria cut her eyes at the doctor. “I don't think that matters. Manuel will kill me sooner or later.”
Acknowledgment and fear slipped across the doctor's face. “I don't know anything about that.”
“That's good. The less you know, the better off you'll be.”
“All you have to do is give him what he wants. Cooperation can go a long way.”
Victoria nodded her head at the doctor's wrist. “Is that what happened to you? You didn't give him what he wanted?”
Fear instantly invaded the doctor's eyes, and then it was gone.
“Oh this?” She lifted her arm. “I fell, that's all.”
Zellia avoided eye contact with Victoria after that. Victoria couldn't help wondering if the doc was another one of Manuel's victims.
Victoria opened her hand, and the doctor dropped the two pills into her palm. She swallowed one of the pills and hoped it worked before she threw it back up. She tucked the other pill between her back teeth and gum and rolled onto her belly to sleep, snuggling under the covers.
“Call me if you need anything,” the doctor said before closing the door.
Victoria waited a few seconds before she took the pill out of her mouth. As she'd suspected, it wasn't a pill but a balled-up piece of paper. Victoria carefully unrolled it and read the note, trying to keep it hidden as much as possible.
The walls have eyes and ears
Victoria knew that much, but why would the doctor tip her off? Unless it was a trick. Did Manuel want her to think that she had an ally? Would a woman in his employ be foolish enough to go against him?
She popped the paper back in her mouth and swallowed. She gagged but managed to get it down. She could have run to the bathroom and threw it up, but Manuel probably had a filter attached to the sewer system, like the penitentiaries did to catch contraband. She didn't want to get the doctor in trouble. She also prayed that the meds worked before she had to throw up again.
Rolling onto her back, she studied the room while she waited for the medicine to kick in. There might be a camera on the wall across from the bed, but she wasn't sure. Probably several more stashed around, but she couldn't scout the room without being detected.
She yawned and wondered what Hayden was doing.
Damn. She missed him, and that pissed her off. He was nothing but a pain in her backside, always ordering her around. He'd broken so many rules for her. What was up with that? He should have locked her up for attempted murder, prostitution, and assault on an officer—him, his friend Davey, the guy on the rooftop. But he hadn't.
Her dad had been right; the one for her was the one who was better than she was. When her dad had first told her that insightful tidbit, she'd thought he was full of shit. She'd never given it much thought before, but she wouldn't have wanted someone she could outrun, outfight, outshoot. And the male ego probably couldn't handle that anyway.
She'd never thought she had any feminine traits, but somewhere in the back of her brain, she knew she longed for a protector, an alpha male—someone like Hayden. Hayden could outdo her in everything. He was stronger than she was. She couldn't beat him physically, and as much as she hated to admit it, it gave her a warm and fuzzy feeling.
Damn, Victoria. The virus is affecting your brain and turning you into a sap.
Of course, the real questions in her mind were—was Hayden the mole? And was he the one responsible for getting her dad killed? Not knowing killed any warm and fuzzy feelings.
Her eyes finally drifted shut as the medicinal sleep claimed her. Was Hayden still staking out Manuel? Were his people watching when the bag lady was abducted? Did Hayden and his band of bad boys even know she was missing?
Did he really care?
Chapter Seventeen
Two minutes until midnight and his beast was on edge. His wolf wanted to run, to hunt, but there hadn't been enough time to do that. Hayden focused on Julio, who leaned against his Mercedes, smoking a cigarette. Yeah. This was just another day at the office for Julio, Hayden thought.
Hayden rested against his truck, arms folded. On the outside, he appeared relaxed. On the inside, though, he was wild and out of control. His beast wanted out, and Hayden fought hard to contain him.
“You miss your woman?” Julio asked.
Hayden glared at Julio but didn't respond.
“She is beautiful. I'll bet she was a wild thing in bed.”
Hayden rubbed his chin. “Look, Julio. Keep your mouth shut. I'm not discussing her with you.”
Julio laughed. “Little touchy, are we? Tell me. What does it feel like to have someone own you?”
Hayden leveled his eyes on Julio. “I don't know, Julio. Why don't you tell me exactly what that feels like?”
Julio stiffened at Hayden's insinuation. “Don't fuck with me, Hayden. I'll shoot you where you stand.”
“I don't think so, Julio. Manuel's recording this little party, and I don't think he wants me dead yet.”
Julio picked something off his caramel-colored Armani suit and dropped it to the floor. “You're right, of course. He wants you to suffer while you watch him fuck your little whore to death. Manuel might even let me have a taste. Then he will kill you.”
Hayden's gut wrenched as anger ricocheted inside his being. His mind envisioned her suffering because of him, and it ate a hole through him.
“What makes you think I care? Hell, I don't even know her name.”
Julio dropped the cigarette and squashed it with his expensive Italian shoe. “Oh, you care, all right. It's written all over your face.”
Hayden doubted that. He always kept his face void of emotion. Julio was good at guessing.
“Manuel says she looks familiar to him,” said Julio. “I personally don't see it, but Manuel has a thing for faces.” He shrugged. “He'll eventually figure it out.”
Hayden's heart thudded against his ribs. Red McLain had put a big dent in Manuel's operation before Manuel had Red and the rest of the team slaughtered like wild pigs in the jungle. Hayden had been trying to nail Manuel ever since. If only he'd been successful
at bringing Manuel down, she'd be safe, instead of inside Manuel's fortress, a prisoner.
If Manuel figured out she was Red McLain's daughter, his vengeance could escalate.
Hayden was relieved when the first truck pulled into the huge warehouse at one end and drove to the other end, where he and Julio waited. Hayden wondered where the buyers were. Several more trucks lined up before the first buyer arrived. The plan was simple. The driver of the buyer's car handed over the money, while the buyer's driver took over the truck. Julio didn't count the money; he only glanced at it and placed a note in the black duffel bag. Hayden figured the cash would be counted when he landed in Colombia.
Two hours later, the last truck left along with the bus. Hayden hated to admit that the transactions were swift and flawless.
Hayden turned to Julio. “Now what?”
Julio dropped his cigarette on the floor. “Now we fly home and count our money.” Julio laughed as he ground the cig beneath his heel. “Well, not you. You don't get to count the money. But you might get to see your little puta. That is, if Manuel decides that he wants to share.”
Hayden's beast pushed against his skin, and he understood the need to kill, to protect his mate.
“I can't say what condition she'll be in when you see her. You see, Manuel likes to break skin and bones. That's the only way he can get off. And with your little cunt being so fragile, he might get too rough and do some permanent damage.”
Hayden's belly tightened at the thought of Manuel hurting his mate. Hayden only hoped that she had a fighting chance against him. She could take him…if she weren't restrained.
Hayden pulled his weapon from behind his back and aimed it at Julio. “I hate to tell you this, Julio, but there's been a change of plans.”
Julio looked at the gun and laughed. “You won't kill me, Hayden. You're the big bad DEA. If you kill me, your whole career will be gone, ruined, kaput. Manuel will see to that.”
“See, Julio. That's the problem. Manuel ordered me to kill you. He said something about you being useless.”
Hayden watched the blood drain from Julio's face as realization struck home. “You lie,” muttered Julio.