by Marton, Dana
He was about to get out when she drew her shoulders up, took a deep breath then went completely still the next second. Only her lips moved as she said, “I want you to leave me here.”
“In the pickup?” Might not be a bad idea. As long as she kept down. She might be safer in the vehicle while he looked around out there.
But she was shaking her head, a tone of desperation creeping into her voice. “I want you to take this car and go back.”
At first, he couldn’t comprehend what she meant. Then he understood only too well. She had seen what he’d done at the guardhouse and she no longer felt comfortable around him. Hell, maybe she no longer felt safe around him. One thing was certain—she no longer wanted his help.
Being pushed away by her hurt more than his combined injuries. “You need me here,” he argued. “You might not like who I am, but I’m what you need.” If she thought she was going to calmly waltz in and negotiate with those guys, she was more naïve that he’d judged her to be. “This is what it’s going to come down to, Taylor. Violence. You don’t have to like it, but you’re going to have to let me handle it, because there’s no way in hell I’m leaving you and Christopher behind.”
He grabbed her arm without thinking, then dropped it when he caught himself. “No way in hell.”
HE COULD BE STUBBORN, but so could she. “He’s my son. This is my problem. I want you to go.”
Even in the middle of the night, the moon provided enough light for her to see his blood-soaked leg. He needed help.
At one point along the way, she realized that this wasn’t going to be a simple exchange. People were going to get hurt. Akeem already had. People were going to die. Possibly her, but she could live with that. She was willing to go as far as she possibly could with this, no matter the end. She would get her son back or die trying.
She couldn’t expect the same from Akeem. He wasn’t Christopher’s parent. Scorching kisses and some serious groping notwithstanding, he was nothing but a girlhood crush and her brother’s friend.
“I didn’t ask you to get involved in this,” she snapped at him and watched the gathering storm on his face.
“Too damn bad,” he said tight-lipped.
“You have nothing to do with us,” she said in a fierce whisper.
His lips flattened into an even tighter line, until they all but disappeared. A long second passed before he spoke, his voice low and hard. “Everything that happens to you concerns me, Taylor.”
Her heart slammed against her chest.
She was trying to save him, didn’t he understand? Apparently not, and it was probably a good thing, because if he did, there was no way in hell he would leave.
“Akeem, you—”
He cut her off. “What is your plan?”
“I go in and talk to them. With me alone and unarmed they won’t feel threatened. I’ll tell them where the money is.” She paused. “I swear I’ll pay you back.” She ignored the look he shot her, and went on. “When they rush off to get the money, I’ll take Christopher and hide somewhere in case they come back. But I don’t think they will. They’ll be running off with your millions.”
It could work that way, not that she thought it would. Something didn’t add up with the whole kidnapping. She fought to remain optimistic, but her instincts said to expect a darker end. And Akeem didn’t need to be part of that.
“I’m coming with you every step of the way until you and Christopher are safely back at the ranch. It’s your choice if you don’t ever want to see me after that.” His face was as hard as his voice.
Warning flashed in his eyes. He was spitting mad at her.
She didn’t care. As long as he got away from this place in one piece and lived. “You have to—”
She couldn’t finish once again. He grabbed for her and hauled her against him, taking her mouth in a kiss that was far from his previous gentle seductions. He took her this time, with or without her consent, making her powerless in his grip, in the swirl of sensations and emotions that washed over her, leaving her breathless.
“Tell me I have nothing to do with you,” he growled when he let her go at last.
She couldn’t have, even if she could talk.
The air was too charged with tension between them—sexual and every other kind—to properly draw a breath. She reached for the door handle instead, and got out on shaky legs.
Akeem was right behind her. And when in a few steps her stunned surprise wore off, all she could think of was that after all these years…
How dare he kiss her like that just when they were walking into death? She didn’t know whether to tear into him for that or ask for another one.
At another time perhaps.
But she couldn’t afford to think of anything else but her son right now, couldn’t afford to spend much more time fighting Akeem off. She’d tried. She wished he had gone. But he was here, and he was going to have to take responsibility for his own choices.
Everybody did. That was one of the things she was learning.
“We are not just waltzing in there and hoping to negotiate,” Akeem said as he passed her. “We’ll go in without being seen and assess the situation then make a plan.”
And she gave up fighting him any further, because, honestly, it was such a comfort and relief to have him there. She looked around and surveyed the surrounding area and buildings. No windows looked this way that she could tell. When they walked around the corner, they spotted a rusty metal door. She followed Akeem toward it.
Unfortunately, none of his keys opened the lock. She had a feeling the guy they’d gotten the keys from was supposed to call up and identify himself for someone to come down and let him in.
And since neither her nor Akeem’s voice was one the people in there would recognize, it seemed they were officially out of luck.
They’d come pretty far against all odds. But now, an arm’s reach from their goal, they were stuck. Out in the open with no way in and no place to hide if one of the two missing pickups pulled up.
“Do you think he was expected to come back?” She was referring to the man who had nearly cut her neck.
“Probably. Most likely, they’re following some sort of a plan.”
“So someone will come outside to look for him at some point?”
“It’d make more sense for them to call his cell.” He pulled a black phone from his pocket.
She hadn’t realized they had another phone now. “Can I call Flint?”
He tossed her the phone. “You bet.” The words were easily spoken, but his face remained dark. He hadn’t forgiven her for trying to send him away.
But he hadn’t raised his voice. Not once. Hadn’t raised his hand. A different man from Gary altogether. There were different men. Not that she hadn’t known that on an intellectual level. There was Flint, for example. But Flint was her brother. Akeem was a whole other kind of experience.
She was dialing her brother’s number already when she thought of something and her fingers went still, hovering above the keypad. “You don’t think the phone might be monitored?”
“I don’t see any reason why they should keep track of their own calls.”
“Good.” She pressed the call button, and said, “It’s me, Taylor” as soon as the other end was picked up. “Are you alone?”
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. We’re at the old refinery where Gramps used to work. Christopher might be here.”
“The cops are still downstairs. Want me to—”
“No.”
“Jackson’s pilots are here, too. We’ve been grounded by the police. There’s a massive search going on in Hell’s Porch. But all civilians have been ordered out because of the shooting.”
She repeated the words to Akeem, who reached for the phone.
“The search isn’t as massive as they make it appear. I think the cops might be involved somehow.”
She couldn’t hear what his brother responded to that.
“Okay,” Akeem said, then he
ld the phone out. “He wants you back.”
But before she could find out what Flint wanted, a shot rang out in the night, ripping the phone from her hand. And in case she was wondering if the bullet had been meant for her or the phone, the next shot grazed her shoulder.
Pain seared across her skin, shock immobilizing her for a second before she crouched to make a smaller target. She was hit. She couldn’t be hit. Christopher was in there somewhere, waiting for her to come for him. How could she have been this stupid? Instinct pushed her forward, toward her son.
Then Akeem was there, on top of her, dragging her to safety.
“YOU STUPID IDIOT!” Jake Kenner knocked the hired gun, Gabe, away from the window. “We’re not supposed to kill the woman.” The boss had been very specific about that.
Hate burned in Gabe’s eyes as he turned back. He didn’t like to be told what to do, that one. Which was why he hadn’t been able to hold down a job for more than six months ever in his life. He cursed every ranch he ever worked, annoying the rest of the men to death. There was plenty of tension to go around without anyone bitching and moaning from dawn to dusk.
“She ain’t supposed to be here.” Gabe shrugged.
He had a point there. “Go upstairs and look around. See if there are cops with her. Don’t shoot at anyone.” He shoved the man off then looked through the window. Taylor McKade was gone and so was the man who’d been at her side a moment ago.
Damn.
He thought for a moment, then decided this constituted a major development. One the boss wasn’t going to like, but the man would be angrier still if he found out that Jake had kept the news from him. He flipped his cell phone open and dialed.
“The McKade woman is here with her guy.”
Silence stretched on the other end.
“Just the two of them?”
“Yes, sir.” At first, he’d just wanted his cut of the money and everything to go as planned without anyone getting hurt. But little had gone the way they’d planned. Now he just wanted the whole damn thing to be over. He no longer cared who he’d have to hurt to get out of here with the money in his pockets.
“Keep them busy until morning,” the voice said, then all he heard was a dial tone.
Jake closed his phone and pushed it back into his pocket. The boss made little sense. As long as they were here, why not take the money from them? Easy enough to have all three of them disappear in one of the tar pits, disappear forever should said tar pit catch fire by accident.
Odd that the boss hadn’t asked about the money at all.
Jake had thought plenty about it during the past two days. And it ticked him off that the McKade woman and her lackey didn’t seem to have anything with them.
He hadn’t mentioned the phone to the boss. He would have only been yelled at for not shooting it before they’d had a chance to make the call. Or chewed him out for having allowed a shot at Taylor McKade in the first place. She wasn’t to be hurt.
He’d been told that with some emphasis. The guy, though, could die, should die, before he had a chance to interfere. Whatever happened to the kid, happened. Maybe the boss had other plans for the woman. She was pretty enough, although not Jake’s type. He preferred a saucy, easy-to-tumble barmaid any day of the week. Not that he could look that way these days. His new girlfriend was nothing if not territorial, with that gleam of marriage in her eyes. Still, she was a decent woman. He would have enough money soon. Maybe he would give marriage a try.
Who the hell knew what the boss had in mind for Taylor McKade? Who the hell cared?
Either way, mentioning the phone would have brought trouble, and it didn’t much matter anyway. Even if a call had gone off to the cops, the boss had the cops taken care of. Then messing up the exchange at the boulders had been a mistake, the boss had promised, a mistake that wasn’t going to happen again.
He would like to know how these two had gotten the damn phone to work. It was supposed to have been fixed to receive calls but not call out. But they had gotten one call out. If not more. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
Keep them busy till morning. He didn’t expect that would be too hard. Those two weren’t going anywhere, not as long as he had the kid. There were three of them inside, armed to the teeth, and the other two coming soon. Taylor McKade and her guy might not have any weapons—they hadn’t used any at the botched handover attempt—but he wouldn’t underestimate them right off the bat.
But they had spent an awful long time trekking through the desert without much to eat and drink, likely without sleep. And he didn’t think they knew the refinery. Most likely they’d followed the tracks of one of the pickups here. He hadn’t expected that. Taylor could not have done that on her own. When he’d made his plans, he hadn’t known that some guy would be coming with her, too. It might take them until morning just to find what they were looking for. Which would be perfect.
By then the boss would arrive and he could deal with them.
All Jake had to do was keep a tight rein on the sorry excuse of a team the boss had assembled. The men were growing restless locked up in here. Pete had gone off to buy some smokes. Jake hoped the guy would be back soon. He hoped Pete heeded his warning and wouldn’t bring any booze back with him. Whiskey was the last thing Gabe and those other idiots needed.
He wished, not for the first time, that he could have pulled off the job on his own, but the boss had insisted on a whole team of hired help.
A bunch of incompetents. He would have to keep on his toes to make sure they didn’t bring him down with them in the end.
Chapter Seven
Akeem shoved Taylor behind him. They needed to get out of the line of fire and to higher ground so that he could keep an eye on the movements of the enemy and figure out the layout of the buildings. There was enough moonlight for decent visibility, except in the deep shadows made by the taller buildings.
The solution presented itself as they rounded a towering storage tank. A rusty metal ladder ran up the side, all the way to the top. He helped her up in front of him, watched the dark stain spread on her shoulder. She’d been shot. Hurt again.
His jaw was clenched tight enough to snap. He eased the pressure so he could ask, “How bad is it?”
She halted for a second and reached for her arm. “Sticky.” Then resumed climbing.
“A little or a lot?” Pain sliced into his thigh with every step as he climbed. He checked his own bandage, glad to see that the bleeding hadn’t increased too badly, even with activity.
“Feels like a lot.”
Anger and concern held him in a tight grip. He should have come alone. He should have somehow found a way—no matter what the kidnappers had said—to talk her out of coming with him.
He pushed her to go faster. They needed to get up on top before they were discovered and someone opened fire on them.
Then Taylor reached the top and hesitated for a moment. He could see why. The actual roof was five feet below them on the other side. She straddled the ring that ran all around the edge of the roof, probably to protect it from heavy winds, which seemed to have damaged the roof anyway. He could make out several foot-wide holes. Luckily, they didn’t have to get on the roof. There was a two-foot ledge inside of the protective ring, four feet down, probably used by maintenance at one time. She swung her feet over and dropped to crouch on the ledge, Akeem right on her heels.
“Stay right there.”
She didn’t look as if she was keen on exploring anyway. She was holding her arm.
He would get to that. He eased up first and looked out. No movement on the ground, no movement inside any of the buildings that he could see from here, no lights on anywhere. Maybe they would be okay for a few minutes.
He laid out the emergency supplies he’d gotten from the first-aid kit before leaving their bags behind: an alcohol wipe and a couple of large bandages. He’d planned on using them on Taylor’s neck, but her arm needed them more. “Let’s try to take off your shirt. Let me know if
it hurts.” He reached for her, awareness creeping into the moment immediately.
“It’s not that bad.” But she winced when he moved her arm.
He felt the cloth around the wound first, and after a while, breathed a little more easily. He didn’t find as much blood as he had feared he would. But the wound was still bleeding. The forced pace of their climb probably hadn’t helped.
“Stay still as much as you can.” He unbuttoned her shirt and peeled it off her good arm first, so he would only need to move her injured arm as little as possible.
Since the wound was still fresh, at least they didn’t have to worry about the material being stuck in dried blood, causing her further pain.
“Here.”
The sleeve slipped off easily. Her T-shirt was in the way, too, the wound just above the shoulder. He wanted to see all of it, as much as he could see in the darkness. He tried to push the material aside, but it wasn’t enough. So she reached for the hem and pulled the T-shirt over her head with her good hand. Which left her wearing precious little.
Don’t look at the pale yellow lace. Not an easy thing to do since it about glowed in the moonlight, definitely drawing attention.
Don’t think of the feel of her skin.
Who was he kidding?
“So what’s the verdict? Am I going to bleed to death?” She was saying the words jokingly, but he could hear the underlying worry in her voice and knew she wasn’t as worried about herself as about her inability to help her son if something happened to her.
And here he was, lusting for her.
On some level, he knew he probably should be ashamed of himself, but damned if he could find that place. So since he couldn’t not want her—even now, even here, always—he went for the next best thing, ignoring that he did.
“You’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ve gotten into worse scrapes at the ranch.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Relief lightened her voice.
And he didn’t want to. He hated to think of Taylor in any kind of danger or hurt.
He ripped the wrapper off the alcohol wipe. “This is going to sting.”