Midnight Shadows (23 page)

How many times had he tried to get her to talk about them? Too numerous to count. She refused to discuss them. Ian had just learned to hold her until she either fell back asleep or she stopping shaking.

Her sisters didn’t know about them. Just in the brief conversations he’d had with both of them, he’d figured that out. How very alone she must have felt all those years to be suffering this way. She hadn’t even shared them with the two people she was the closest to and trusted the most.

Ian wished he could heal her hurts, fix everything in her life that had gone wrong. But not only could he not do this, Sabrina would cut him off at the knees if he even tried. Never in his lifetime had he met someone so vulnerable who was also so stubbornly strong and independent to a fault.

No, all he could do was love her, be there for her, and hope to hell that someday she would let her guard down long enough for him to help her heal.

The cellphone lying on the table beside him played her ringtone. Ian grabbed it before he could talk himself out of not answering.

“Ian? Hey! I’m so glad you answered. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“Everything okay? Why haven’t you called me back?”

Was everything okay? That would be a big fat no, but there was no point in arguing about the same old thing.
 

“Everything’s fine. Just been busy with a new case.”
 

“You’re working something new? Tell me about it.”

This had always been their way—talking work instead of feelings.
 

It was so damn good to hear her voice, he couldn’t resist. “Remember that murder case where the guy was accused of killing his boss and two co-workers when they were on a company retreat?”

“Of course. It was all over the news for months. But I thought that had already gone to trial.”
 

“It has but Pearson Bell, the man’s attorney called and hired me. He thinks it was a set up.”

“Seriously? How? Why?”

He could just see her, probably curled in a chair, wearing one of her many football jerseys for pajamas. Since it was late, after ten o’clock, she’d smell sweet and fresh because she always showered in the evenings before going to bed. Had she used her tangerine lotion or was that only when he was with her?
 

There was nothing he enjoyed more than holding a softly fragrant and silky Sabrina in his arms. At the thought of her sweet, sexy flesh, a strong surge of arousal blanked his mind of every thought but the need to have her here with him. To taste, to devour…

“Ian…you there?”

He shook himself out of his lust-filled fantasy. “Yeah, sorry. So anyway, there’s new evidence that there was a power struggle inside the firm, lot of office politics but on a higher scale.”

“Did you get to talk to the guy…what was his name, Harlan Mills, wasn’t it?”

As if nothing had happened to interrupt their harmony, Ian fell into their natural rhythm of discussing a case, describing his meeting, the facts he’d uncovered, and once again, he appreciated her input. One of Sabrina’s many talents was her ability to feel a case. Where he could be analytical and focus on facts and evidence, Sabrina saw the emotion behind the facts. They had made a damn good team.

“Enough about me. What about you? Any new cases for Wildefire Security?”

“Nothing big. A couple of minor ones that got handled pretty quickly. We’re taking a look at a new case in Birmingham. Sammie and Brody are there now.”

Ian frowned at that news. Was she still hesitant about leaving town? “Why didn’t you go?”

“I was supposed to but Donna called and wanted to talk. I went to Mobile, stayed there a few days.”

“She having trouble getting back to real life?”

“Seems like it. At least more so than Claudia and Ashley. I’ve heard from both of them. They’re back home, trying to resume their lives. Even though they won’t see justice done until Silva is put away, they seem to be adjusting.
 

“I’m worried about Donna, though. I offered again to bring her back to Midnight to stay here at the house. Thought maybe a small town environment might be good for her. She refused.”

“You can only do so much.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You coming to Tallahassee soon?”

He heard the soft little catch of her breath and knew she’d been worried that things had changed between them, because of their argument. He regretted not calling her. Sabrina gave what she could and the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel insecure.

“Tomorrow okay? Unless something comes up, I can be there by four.”

“Sounds great, but I’ve got a five-thirty appointment.”

“Then I’ll be there waiting for you when you get home. It’ll give Jack and me a chance for some playtime.” Her voice went sexy, teasing. “Then when you get home, we’ll have our own playtime.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

They went on to talk about other things, their voices going softer and more intimate as he told her how much he wanted to hold her, kiss her, taste her. By the time the call ended, Ian was missing her more than ever and wishing with everything within him that she wanted him just as much.

Ensenada, Mexico

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you came home, my dear. I’ve missed you terribly.” With a deliberate, gentle touch, Robert pushed a strand of hair off the woman’s face. “You know, you were always my favorite.”

A nervous smile trembled on her lips as her eyes gleamed with hopefulness. He wanted to make sure she felt comfortable and welcomed. That she had no cause whatsoever to regret coming back to him. He would make promises, see to her comfort, feed and clothe her, give her only the finest of everything. And then, when he was sure he had gleaned every ounce of information from her, he would make her suffer for having the audacity to leave him in the first place.

“Thank you, sir. I…um…missed you, too.”

“Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?”

Ensconced on the sofa, wearing a cashmere robe he’d purchased for one of his mistresses, the woman held a frothy umbrella drink and nibbled on caviar. Maybe if she’d been brighter she would have realized that Robert was never nice without an ulterior motive. She had information and he was a patient enough man to enjoy this little game he played. Perhaps he’d use a different kind of coercion later on, one that wouldn’t be near as comfortable for his houseguest. For now it was actually quite delightful to watch her pretend like she had some kind of value as a human being.

She took an unladylike gulp of her drink, swallowed loudly, sighed gustily and said, “No sir…I’m mean, yes sir, I’m real comfortable. And everything tastes real good.”

“Excellent. You be sure to let me know if there’s anything you need. All right?”

Thoroughly enjoying the woman’s incredible stupidity, Robert waited for her nod before continuing. He leaned forward and gave her his most intimate and conspiratorial smile. “Now, tell me exactly how it happened, and don’t leave anything out.”

“Well…her real name is Sabrina Wilde. And—” She bit her lip as if in a moment of regret.

Robert took her hand and squeezed it gently, wanting to reassure her. If it became necessary he would gladly beat the truth out of her. For right now, he would play the gentle, forgiving master.

“It’s okay, sugar, you can tell me.”

“She lives in Alabama, in a town called Midnight.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Chicago

Holden Marsh had just about had his fill. Shit would never shine no matter how deeply it was scrubbed. Robert Silva would continue his evil until he was taken down for good. Holden had known this going in, but it didn’t make the job any easier to bear. Lately it was all he could do to get up in the mornings. It was made worse by the fact that if he could get away with it, he’d put a gun to the bastard’s head and relieve the world of one less scumbag.
 

That kind of corroded thinking was the reason he knew this had to end soon. He wasn’t a coldblooded killer and he’d bent his ethics and smothered his conscience on this job more than anything else he’d ever done in his life. If this didn’t end soon, it would end him.

For a short while, he’d had a reprieve. Working with Sabrina, Mackenzie, and Wildefire Security to rescue Lauren Kendall had been damn fun. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t put a bullet into Silva. Not just because the rescue had been accomplished without bloodshed. It’d felt damned good to do something worthwhile and clean for a change.
 

Arranging for Erica Silva and her children to escape had been a little more complicated. Even with another undercover agent posing as nanny to Silva’s children, it had taken longer than he had anticipated to pull it off.
 

When he’d learned what Silva’s wife had gone through to ensure their getaway, he couldn’t believe her courage. Erica had worried that her husband was catching on. That he knew what she was planning. What she had done right before Silva had left Chicago was something Holden could barely fathom. She had asked to go with her husband on his trip, believing if he suspected she was trying to leave him, her request would eliminate his suspicion. She had known exactly how he would react. The woman had barely been able to walk upright for several days.

But now they could all breathe easier. Erica and her minor children were in a safe house in another state far away from her husband’s influence and wrath. When the time came to testify against the man, she would be more than willing to spill the bastard’s secrets.

He had followed up those two successful rescue missions with a final, game-winning trifecta. Lionel Wilson, Silva’s former employee, had been delivered to Holden’s handler at the DEA. Lionel had a long and seedy history with Silva, but he was more than happy to testify against the man who’d ordered his death. Lionel would still go to prison, but he was alive and breathing. That wouldn’t have happened if the DEA hadn’t intervened.

Silva had ordered several murders in the last few months. Murders that Holden had been ordered to carry out. A few had been unavoidable, adding more black marks to Holden’s soul. So far he had saved more lives than he had taken and that was a win in his book.
 

Being ordered to kidnap and kill Antonio’s ninety-three year old grandmother had put a hole in the pit of his stomach. Fortunately the old woman was still spry and had her wits about her. When she’d been told what was going down, she had taken great pains to look as terrified and pitiful as she could for the camera. Antonio would see his grandmother again, however, he would likely be standing behind prison bars when that happened.

But Holden still didn’t have what his superiors wanted, felt they had to have to get a solid conviction—irrefutable, damning evidence of Robert Silva’s warehouses where a dozen highly addictive and dangerous drugs were manufactured and distributed throughout the world. Holden knew there were at least three—one in the US and two in South America—though he suspected there were several more. Despite the fact that Holden had been with Silva almost two years, he’d yet to be invited to the inner circle of Silva’s drug enterprise.

The invitation was imminent. Holden Marsh had more than proven his worth to his employer. How much longer would he have to wait and just what kind of crap would he have to do before the invitation came and this could end?

Hell, he didn’t even know where Silva was this minute. The man had withdrawn to a private retreat to lick his wounds. He’d left ten nights ago with little more than a muttered, “Call me when you find my family.”
 

And now everything was back to a holding pattern. Something had to break and soon.
 

That thought had barely entered his head when his phone rang.
 

And Holden’s world imploded.

He listened. Grunted his agreement. Gave praise, congratulations. Even offered a couple of theories of what might have happened. All the while, his mind whirled with all the things he needed to do. Finally, able to end the call, Holden dropped the phone on the chair.
 

“Un-freaking-believable.”

The woman was going to die—that was a given. But just how many more people would be killed because of her stupidity? He had tons to get done, but first he had to alert the one person Silva would likely want dead more than anyone else.

Long strides had him in his bedroom in seconds. As he pulled his duffle bag from his closet, he grabbed one of his burner phones and keyed in a number.
 

She answered with suspicion in her voice, most likely because she didn’t recognize the number. And because her instincts were good.

“Sabrina, it’s Marsh.”

Her voice changed, became relaxed, friendly. “Hey, how are—”

“We’ve got a problem.”

He told her what he knew which wasn’t a lot. Fortunately she was a smart woman and could fill in any blank spaces. She knew Silva would be coming for her, along with anyone else she cared about.

They didn’t waste time talking. He wished her luck, feeling like shit that he’d put her in this position.
 

He dumped clothes and toiletries into the bag, taking only what he had to have. If Silva had this place searched, he didn’t want it to look as though he’d cleaned the apartment out and left.