A Kiss of Revenge (Entangled Ignite) (7 page)

“Okay.” She lowered the rail and sat on the side of the bed, unscrewing the cap and squeezing out a dollop of the cream. As gently as she could, she dabbed it against his swollen lips. They curved a little, and she risked a glance into his eyes. He was staring directly at her, and the intensity in his eyes burned deep. Now that she’d had a taste of him, she knew what to crave. She swallowed, the sound audible in the curtain cocoon.

His hand slid under her hair and caressed the back of her neck, pressing into the tight muscles there.

“Relax, Reese,” he whispered. “Everything is going to be okay.” His fingers dug deeper into her hair, rubbing against her scalp until her eyes closed and she breathed out a quiet moan.

“Griff.” His name sounded like a sigh on her lips.

She braced her hand on his chest and felt his heart slamming into his breastbone. Their foreheads came together, breath mingling, and it was the most intimate moment she had ever shared with someone.

“All-righty-then!” The curtain ripped open and Reese hopped off the bed, busying herself with replacing the cap on the tube while the orderly released the brakes on the bed and got it ready to move.

“My things are there.” Griff pointed to a chair against the wall, where his clothes were folded. “Can you take them tonight and bring me a change out of my duffel for tomorrow?”

“Of course.” She picked up the clothes and hugged them to her chest. “Your phone?”

He winked and slid his hand under the covers. The orderly was already maneuvering the bed and didn’t notice.

“Uh, what room number?” she asked him.

“Two-forty-two. He’s going for a CT scan first, so you can go up there and wait if you want. It’ll be a while.”

A wave of fatigue surprised her, and the monitor Griff was no longer hooked up to made a
fuzz-
ing sound.

“You go home,” Griff told her. “I’ll get some sleep and see you in the morning.”

She would have protested but knew the smarter thing was to go home and settle herself so she
could
come back in the morning.

First she drove her car to a point halfway between the park where Artsfest was still going strong and her house. Then she searched for Griff’s car, using his key fob as she walked up and down the blocks near the festival trying to figure out which one was his. Once she found it she drove it home, then walked back to get
her
car. It could have waited until tomorrow, she supposed, but she felt better doing something, and at least making sure his stuff was safe.

Then she could collapse.

Once home for good, she went directly into the spare bedroom and shut the door before sinking down onto the bare floor. She’d disconnected the household current to this room and left it almost empty, a sort of safe zone. Alone and away from anyone or anything she could hurt, she finally let go. All the electricity she’d inadvertently collected seemed to surge inside her body, trying to break free and burrow deeper at the same time. She let it loose, consciously releasing every mental conduit she could, to let the electricity flow unimpeded. She imagined it went in a big circle, something like out her feet and hands, then back in through her head and shoulders, with nowhere else to go. She let it circle for a few minutes, invisible but for a shimmer in the air around her, while she lay on the floor. She didn’t have the energy or focus to redirect it or shut it off.

Tears trickled into her hair. How could she have let herself fall for Griff? Yet another man, this time when she wasn’t even free to do so.
He’s the best of them,
her heart whispered, and that may have been, but it didn’t change the circumstances. She’d reached a point of no return with that moment on his bed. She couldn’t deny her feelings for him, but she couldn’t share them with him, either. Tomorrow she’d send him on his undercover op and make it clear there was nothing between them but a business arrangement.

She should terminate that, too, but the thought sent another cascade of tears down her temples. He knew everything about her investigation. When she had new information, he knew how to use it, what to look for, how it fit with everything else. She didn’t have the energy or the time to start over with someone new.

Surely they could stay professional.

She sighed and climbed to her feet, so incredibly weary and definitely overcharged. In one corner of the room she’d set up a device to discharge electricity into when she collected too much. Soon after the accident, she’d cobbled together a simple conductor and spinning wheel from high school experiments posted on the Internet. In the beginning, once she’d gained a little control, she’d hold in everything that found her until she got home at the end of the day. Then she’d come home and touch the metal part of the conductor. With some concentration, the electricity flowed into the circuit and powered the wheel until she was depleted.

She hadn’t had to use the device in a while, not since she figured out how to keep the electricity
out
rather than holding it in. Tonight was a regression that added to the weight of her depression. It seemed to grow heavier as she wrapped her hand around the device and the electricity drained out of her. The wheel whirred as it spun, then slowed.

She was tired enough to fall asleep immediately and didn’t dream or wake up until her alarm went off early the next morning. She opened the bakery as usual, then left Sarah, her assistant manager and other baker, to handle the light mid-morning activity while she picked up Griff. She kept her demeanor deliberately cool when she gave him his duffel and stepped outside to let him change. The nurses ignored her as she stood against the wall, biting her lip and wondering how much he’d push before she sent him on his way.

“Thanks for bringing my stuff,” he said as soon as he emerged from the hospital room, straightening the collar of his leather jacket. “I have to shag it if I’m going to be in Boston on time. Drop you at the bakery?” And he strode off down the hall, not even checking to make sure she was with him.

She barely kept her mouth from falling open and didn’t rush to keep up. He held the elevator for her, but since the car was full, neither said anything on the way down.

Griff joked with the elderly volunteer greeter on their way out of the lobby, making her blush, and flirted with a new mother easing her way into a minivan just outside the door. Reese indicated where she’d parked his car, and he didn’t even look at her or speak until they were almost to the bakery.

“Sarah covering for you?” he asked, his eyes on the road ahead.

“Yeah. She’s always glad for the hours.”

She studied him, completely unsure how to take him. His mouth looked better. Still red and slightly puffy, but whatever was in the ointment they’d supplied had done a great job.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

“Normal. No issues.”

“What did the doctor say?”

He shrugged. “I’m fine. CT scan showed no damage. Neuro tests this morning were normal. Told me to take it easy, the usual blah blah blah.”

“Good thing you’re going on an undercover job, then.” She frowned. “Should you? I mean—”

“It’s fine.
I’m
fine.”

His tone was harsher than she’d ever heard it before. She turned to look out the side window, wondering what he was doing. Punishing her for…what? He’d been very forgiving after she shocked him, so she doubted he’d flipped on that overnight. Was it the way she’d handled the kiss itself? Or, actually,
failed
to handle it? He probably thought she’d babbled about Brian’s surgery as a subtle rejection, and he wouldn’t be wrong. But he was acting so different from yesterday when she left. He was acting…the way
she’d
intended to act.

Well, that made her feel like crap. She was glad he’d pre-empted her and she hadn’t made
him
feel like this. She didn’t know if he’d decided the kiss was a mistake or if he was afraid she’d try to talk about it more when he’d said what he needed to say already. Or maybe he just knew her too well and thought she should have a taste of her own medicine.

He pulled to the curb half a block from the bakery and turned to her, his arm slung between the seats. “You good from here?”

“Of course.” She didn’t get out of the car right away. “Be careful, okay?”

He smiled, and things clicked back into place. “Always am.” But then the smile disappeared and he looked like the older brother he’d often acted like over the last several months. “You, too. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“When do I ever?” She tried to go out on a light note, flashing a grin as she got out of the car, and left him muttering under his breath. But he didn’t drive away until she’d walked through the bakery door.

After she closed up that afternoon, she visited Brian again, knowing full well she was only doing it for absolution. It was risky, visiting when she was still raw after yesterday’s events, but she’d be alert, and leave if her control got shaky. She had to do her duty, prove to herself that despite her thoughts of dropping the quest, of giving in to her attraction to Griff, that she wasn’t leaving Brian behind.

Men left
her
. She didn’t do the leaving. Ever.

The nurse was disconnecting the enteral pump providing Brian with nutrition when Reese entered.

The young woman smiled. “So nice to see you today, Ms. Templeton. I was just about to bathe him.”

“I’ll do it.” She tried not to sound as if she were taking on a chore. It wasn’t penance. She should
want
to do this.

She checked the CD in the old player she’d left—a less tempting object for theft than an iPod—and switched it from slow jazz to Katy Perry, Brian’s favorite. Reese took her time with the sponge, making sure to get areas the staff might neglect in their hurry to care for all of the patients, and then used an aloe-based and vitamin-infused lotion. Her hands massaged flaccid muscles so different from Griff’s work-hardened ones. She put drops in his eyes and smoothed extra moisturizer over the marks left by the tape they used to close his eyelids at night.

By the time she was done positioning him, her sleeve was soaked with tears that wouldn’t stop flowing.

A head poked in the door. “Oh, good, Ms. Templeton.” Dr. Langstrom came all the way into the room and perched on a stool, positioning a stack of charts on her lap. “You’ll save me a phone call. I wanted to give you an update on the procedure we discussed.”

Reese wiped her cheeks and sniffed. “Yes?”

The doctor pretended not to notice. “Dr. Studtgart agrees that your husband is a suitable candidate. He’s making arrangements to travel soon. Have you decided to proceed with the surgery?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Great. Here’s some paperwork we’ll need from you before you go today, if you have time.” She handed Reese a folder. “And some more you can take with you that we’ll need before the surgery begins. Do you have any questions?”

She took the folders and shook her head, thanking the doctor as she left. She looked down at Brian, curled once again on his side, unseeing, unmoving, either lost in the darkness or trapped in uncommunicative awareness. Whatever he was inside, there seemed an equal chance that it was either neutral darkness or a living hell. Whether this procedure changed anything, made it worse or better, they were leaving limbo. At least temporarily.

And that meant the clock was ticking faster on her quest. No more tests. No more stalling or hedging or questioning her goals.

Tomorrow night, she was getting inside the Alpine house.

Chapter Four

By the time darkness fell Monday night, Reese had turned her focus completely to revenge. She hadn’t heard from Griff and assumed he was still on the undercover job. She hoped he was doing okay, that there hadn’t been any aftereffects from the shock, and that he actually would check in with her when he was done.

But in the meantime, she had work to do. She’d visited the butcher this morning before opening the bakery and bought a bone-in roast that she left out of the refrigerator once she got home, so its scent would be at full strength for the dog. Part of her plan to get past him and inside the house.

Driving to The Charms would make maximum use of time and offer a faster getaway, but there was no place up there to hide her car where it wouldn’t be noticed, and any cop still patrolling the area would call in the plate number and find out it was hers. So she did the jogging thing again, hoping with every step that no dogs were loose tonight. The meat hanging from her belt would attract them for miles.

Sure enough, a Chihuahua wearing an invisible fence collar perked up when she went by. She heard a yelp and glanced back to see him trotting after her, his tiny legs flashing under him. He was brave to cross the shocking fence line, but too slow to catch up to her. He gave up after less than a block. Plenty of other dogs barked at her from their yards, but luckily no others tried to break out or leap their fences.

The Rottweiler greeted her at the gate when she reached the Alpine house, his tail wagging but his teeth bared. The zip ties remained in place at the top of the gate, which meant no one had come in this way. If Artsfest guy had come here, he must have another way onto the property. Even if the dog had an automatic feeding and watering station, someone had to check on him periodically. But she hadn’t been able to find another entrance. It was probably to the left of the house, as there was a narrow road into the trees between this property and the adjoining one, but she was afraid to get caught down there with no plausible excuse for her presence, so she hadn’t checked.

“Looks like we’re making progress, huh, D?” She held out a ball, the mate to the one she’d tossed earlier. D got excited again, prancing while she cocked her arm and threw, then raced after it into the darkness.

Reese used a small knife to cut the tie off the gate and slipped inside with only a tiny squeak. She ran around the guardhouse and grabbed two long branches off the ground, barely managing to get back to the other side before D returned to her, growling. She showed him the roast and tossed it through the open door into the little room, gratified when he immediately changed direction and went after the meat. She slammed the guardhouse door behind him and shoved the branches through one window and out the opposite. It wasn’t a perfect barrier, but hopefully it would keep D from jumping out.

Next she had to determine if the house was empty. It had always been dark during her reconnaissance runs, but she couldn’t count on that meaning no one was inside.

She stayed as close to the trees as possible as she approached the house. There were no cars in front and the garage was closed. She circled the property, noting the boat was gone. No windows in the garage, and no obvious alarm system. That could mean they didn’t have one or that it was unexposed. She didn’t want to take a chance, not yet, so she didn’t break into the garage to check for vehicles inside.

The house had a high foundation and all the first-floor windows were well above her head. The front porch was too exposed, with wide windows beside the door and a security light directly above it. After walking completely around the building, she decided the best way in would be the basement.

Because of the high foundation, the basement windows weren’t in wells but set into the poured concrete at ground level. She settled onto her belly next to one in the back and peered inside. The darkness both inside and out prevented her from seeing much, but it looked as though the room was empty of any storage or furniture. Wires in the glass led to a contact square in the corner, embedded in the outer layer of glass. She touched it, and faint current seeped into her fingers. But the glass kept her from deliberately drawing on it, so she couldn’t disarm the system from here, and she hadn’t found any outside access.

Gravel crunched, a faint sound, but one she was tuned to. Someone had pulled into the front drive. She held still, listening. That might be a voice, and another. A door slammed, and she pressed her fingers to the contact again. The tingle cut off abruptly, and satisfaction rushed through her. They’d disarmed the system. She forced her knife into the crack at the bottom of the window. It was a tight fit, but the tip caught the lock enough to turn it.

She pushed the window inward and lowered herself inside to hang below the ledge. The window swung down onto her fingers and she clenched her teeth against the scraping impact. She hadn’t had much choice. Drop too early, the window would slam and maybe call the attention of the people upstairs. She eased to the floor, shaking her hands and squeezing her throbbing fists until the pain subsided.

Footsteps
thunk-
ed across the floor over her head, and she quickly looked around. The basement was indeed empty, so hopefully no one would have reason to come down here. She stepped quietly around the perimeter of the room to the wooden staircase, then crept up to settle at the top, next to the door. She couldn’t distinguish the voices on the other side. She reached for the handle, about to risk cracking the door, but snatched her hand back when someone paused right outside.

“We have time. Skav says the new chick confirmed she’ll be here tomorrow night.”

“Hope she’s hotter than the last one,” came another voice. “That one had hairy legs, man.”

“It don’t show on screen. Besides, that’s what the trick wanted.”

A third voice chimed in, this one fainter. “Don’t call ’em tricks. Big K don’t like it. Call ’em clients. Or producers.” He sniggered.

Big K
. The pleasure of having a name, even a stupid nickname, to call her enemy almost made Reese tune out of the conversation.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyway, this new babe is supposed to be tall and
stacked
, man. We should all be able to get off on her.”

“Right, Dob, like you’ll even get a chance. You’re so far down the totem pole, you’ll be lucky to have a go at her corpse. Besides, we got a mooovie to make, first.” They both snickered.

Reese sat frozen as they moved out of the room above, shocked to the core by what she’d heard. Had they meant it, or been making a joke? If it wasn’t a joke, they were talking about prostitution, and worse. Her stomach rolled at the images the words inspired. This wasn’t what Brian had been involved in. It
couldn’t
be. She’d assumed a Mexican destination had to mean drugs, even though Brian insisted it wasn’t anything like that. Still, he was picking up
packages
, not people.
God
, she hoped he hadn’t been picking up people. She could rationalize that he was dragged into it without realizing what he was doing at first, then feeling locked in, or even enticed by the money. But if he’d been part of feeding this sick, twisted venture…she didn’t know him at all.

The thought was too much to entertain, and she might never know. She chose to believe this was a different racket from the one Brian had been involved in. A smart criminal mastermind—and she had no reason to believe Big K wasn’t smart—would have abandoned the old one after bringing down their plane. Cut his losses.

She forced her brain to the other things she’d heard. None of the voices had been the man’s from the festival. Was he Big K? Or was Big K his boss, too? He wasn’t Skav, because he’d been talking to him on the phone. She still thought the guy at the fest was only senior management and not her actual quarry. Why would someone who called himself “Big K” do grunt work, after all?

More footsteps passed the door and continued up another set of stairs somewhere in the distance. She was dying to search the house, find a real name, but couldn’t with these guys here. A plan began to form in her head. Something a lot more subtle than breaking and entering. Definitely more dangerous, probably even stupid, but she wasn’t sure she cared. The reasons for finding and stopping Big K had expanded, and become about more than just her and Brian.

She made her way silently back down the stairs and over to the unlocked window, then stood with her hands on her hips, glaring up at it overhead. Closed, the window had no ledge, and there was nothing down here to stand on or prop the window open with.
Shit
. She’d have to go upstairs, after all.

There was no sound on the other side of the door, no movement or talking. She waited, straining to hear, but still nothing. The door eased open on well-oiled hinges, and she peered through the half-inch crack into the kitchen. Though the room was dark, light shone from another room to her left. She inched the door open some more. Still silent, still no sign of anyone. She heard a
thud
overhead, then a screeching noise, like they’d moved something across the floor.

She closed her eyes, trying to visualize her orientation with regard to the window she’d entered in the back. She should be looking at the front of the house, but if they were bringing things in the front door, she didn’t want to head that way. The back was too far from the front gate, so she’d try to go out a side window.

“Déjà vu,” she whispered, tiptoeing through the kitchen and into a windowless dining room.

“Hey!”

The shout hit her like a shot and she ran through the dining room and into the next room, a den, before she realized the shout hadn’t come from behind her, but from the front door that had banged open at the same time.

“What the hell, Dob?” someone called from upstairs.

“It’s Ripper! I couldn’t find him, so I went looking around. He was locked in the guardhouse at the front gate!”

This wasn’t good. Luckily, her panic hadn’t propelled her into their sight. They didn’t know anyone was in here.
Yet
. She thought fast. Try to get out or go back to the basement? Either way, she could be screwed.

Out, she decided. Outside, she had a chance to get away. She was safe hiding in the empty basement when they didn’t know anything was wrong, but now that they’d found D—Ripper? Yikes—they could trap her down there. She was outnumbered and they probably had guns. From what she overheard, they might not be above killing her. Even if they didn’t, all they had to do was call the police and it was all over for her.

She dashed to the dark drapes along the den’s outside wall and peered around one. It was too dark outside to tell if anyone was out there. But the others were coming downstairs, and she couldn’t stay here. She unlocked and lifted the window, then the screen, and stuck her leg out, swiveling around and dropping to the ground without pausing to hang.

That spared her bruised fingers, but her newly healed knee sang in protest and she fell, landing on her butt. She sat, waiting for a reaction, but the still night air was filled only with crickets and katydids and the faint sound of an engine on the road out front.

She climbed to her feet with the intent to sneak into the neighbor’s yard, but then voices came from the back of the house. They were circling it, maybe looking for evidence of break-in or trespass. Desperation and her half-formed plan spurred her into the front yard and up the steps, where she hastened to brush grass off her backside. She ripped the ponytail holder out and yanked off the headband, then unzipped her sweatshirt. A moment later the three guys came around, one bent over, patting D—Ripper—on his side.

“I swear, someone put him in there!”

“He probably went in himself and the wind blew the door shut.”

“What about the branches? They were stuck through the windows!”

“Wind, I tell ya. It blows fierce up here sometimes.”

“But I—”

They all stopped when they saw her.

“Who are you?” the one she thought was Dob asked.

“I’m the new girl.” Her voice rasped with nervousness but she didn’t clear it, hoping it sounded sexy. This was a huge gamble. She might not be “tall and stacked” enough to pass herself off as tomorrow’s chick, and she didn’t know how they recruited. She prayed “the new chick confirmed she’ll be here” meant she’d chosen to come here, not dragged against her will.

The guy in the back stepped forward. He looked her up and down. Reese held her breath, hoping that if this was Skav, he hadn’t met the new girl himself. “You don’t look like your picture.”

She shrugged. “It was an old picture.”

“You musta been working out.” He shoved the other two ahead of him and followed them up the steps. D panted at her, but apparently with the guys around, he wasn’t in guard mode. She hoped he didn’t act too friendly and make them suspicious.

“You’re early,” Skav said. “We don’t start filming until tomorrow.”

Reese followed him inside, aware of the leers and high fives of the two behind her. She heard one of them whisper that she was much hotter than her picture. She had to stop herself from folding her arms across her chest.

“I thought maybe I could see the setup,” she explained, “so I’d be more comfortable. For the filming.”

“Whatever. Dob, take her up and show her around. Bark, check the basement. I gotta call Big K. Check on the, uh, other talent.”

“Yep.”

“You got it.”

Dob motioned her up to the second floor. Reese half expected her ass to burst into flames, she could feel how intensely he stared at it. When he motioned toward the end of the long hallway she stepped aside, making him go ahead of her. She glanced into some of the rooms they passed. Two were empty. One’s door was shut. She quietly tested the handle on the way by—locked. Two more rooms held beds surrounded by film equipment like lights and cameras and a boom microphone. The last one on the right looked like a dressing room. She saw a mirror and a rack of clothes before Dob hauled her into the last room on the left.

“Here’s where we’ll be doin’ you.”