Bound to the Bounty Hunter (23 page)

“No.”

She leaned her full weight in to the door. “Who
are
you, and why did you have me kidnapped?” Her teeth chattered. She ignored the bats trying to escape out of her chest.

“I didn’t kidnap you.” His anger was palpable.

A memory floated through her brain. Just before the man stabbed her with a hypodermic needle, he’d said another woman’s name.

The doorknob turned. She pushed back.

“Who are you?” she said, trying to resist the twist of the metal.

“Come out, we need to talk.”

Dug had never scared her, but she didn’t know him. Her internal radar hadn’t picked up any threat from him, and he had saved Annie.

She gnawed the inside of her cheek.

“I’d never hurt you.”

With nowhere to go, she released the handle, and the door opened with a smack.

He dragged his hand through his hair, exactly the way Harlan did, and Sophie’s world tilted dangerously. Dug grabbed her cold hand and walked her into what would have been a living room, but a small, round table and two plain wooden chairs filled the space. An Allen wrench sat on the table.

She looked for her bag.

Nothing.

The room didn’t offer much on its occupant. Two pillows and a blanket lay on the floor. No TV, no sofa, no pictures. She craned her neck to see into the small kitchen. No toaster, no kettle, no plates. Seemed Dug went for minimalistic decor. Thick curtains hung from every window.

“Do you have my bag? I need to phone Harlan, Titus, and my friends.” Her heart hitched. People must be going out of their minds wondering what had happened to her.

“I don’t have your bag or your phone. It was fucking luck that I got
you
.”

She jolted at his tone.

“Sit, we need to talk.” It wasn’t an invitation but a command.

“I need to phone my friends.” A slight note of hysteria crept into her voice.

She sifted through her head trying to remember any actual phone numbers, cursing herself and her useless, sluggish brain.

“Sophie. I’ll take you back to your place. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

Wait.

She gripped the back of the chair.

“I was in a Jeep. How did I end up here?”

“I followed you from the mall and waited for a quiet intersection. It took longer than I anticipated.”

Her fingers dug in to the wood. “Why didn’t you take me to a hospital or call the police?”

He simply stared at her. She could read nothing on his face. She rounded the chair and perched on the edge.

“What were you doing at the mall alone?” Dug sat across from her, seemingly loose and relaxed, but his sharp eyes rested on her. “Why did Franco send you to the mall alone?”

She opened her mouth then snapped it closed.

“We can sit here all night.” Dug leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee, arms across his chest.

“All night?” She shot out of her chair, pulled back a curtain, and stared into the darkness. “How long have I been here? Wait. Where am I exactly?”

Dug’s hand tugged the curtain back into place. “You’ve been out for hours. The safest place is here, and where this is, is on a need-to-know basis.”

Her head snapped back.

Oh no. Oh, hell no
.

“Do
not
tell me, I don’t need to know,” she said, unable to stop the anger creeping into her tone.

“You don’t need to know.” Dug’s unwavering gaze never left her.

Her blood started to steam.

Why was it that nobody kept her in the loop?

“What’s Franco running?”

She sat but pressed her lips together.

The neutral mask Dug always wore slipped, and she sucked in her breath at the fear that rolled across his face.

“You could have been killed or used as a toy.”

“He isn’t running anything. I was there to make a deal so none of the people I care about get hurt,” she said, unable to catch the tremor in her voice. She took a deep breath. “I’m sick of people not telling me why people I care about are getting hurt. My life. My play.”

Dug listened intently, his total focus seemingly on her.

She met his gaze. “It’s all a misunderstanding. Before I was punched with a hypodermic, the man said another woman’s name. It isn’t me he wanted, which I don’t get. Why are people I know getting hurt when it’s another woman they want?”

“You need to talk to Franco.” Dug’s mouth dropped to a thin line.

“No, I don’t. This is my mess, care of good old Dad, which I have to clean up.” Hysteria had started to raise her voice, but she didn’t care. “I can do this on my own.”

Dug leaned forward suddenly, catching one of her hands. “If I hadn’t needed groceries and seen you the moment you stepped from the cab, I’m thinking this would have had a whole different ending.” Dug squeezed her now-trembling hand. “You have to talk to Harlan and trust him.”

His words seeped into her brain.

Trust him
.

Maybe she’d been a fool thinking she could do this on her own. Maybe she couldn’t. If Dug spoke the truth, and it had been only luck that he’d spotted her, she could have been far, far away with the man from the Jeep using her as his play toy.

The words
too stupid to live
flittered across her brain.

She swallowed.

“Why didn’t you take me back to my place?”

“Because if Franco had left you out in the open and exposed, you wouldn’t be going anywhere near him.” Dug gentled his voice. “You’re going to have to decide if you trust Franco enough to talk to him. You two are playing a dangerous cat-and-mouse game. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

She sucked in a breath through her teeth.

This meant standing in front of the man, emotionally naked, and exposing the part of her heart she’d kept guarded all her life.

“What if I can’t?” she whispered, raw emotion scraping her throat and tears spilling down her face.

He wiped a tear with his thumb. “Then I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“Who are you?”

Dug swiped his thumb again across her face, regret soaking his words, a wistful look on his face. “Someone you’ll never know.”

She stared at him until her eyes burned.

“Soph, it’s time to make your choice.”

Chapter Eighteen

Harlan had gone back to the control room to check in, which he could have done via a text, but he wanted to make sure his team was doing okay. They all felt the loss of Sophie at a personal level. After the check-in, he’d be heading back to her place, where he figured she’d turn up.

If she turned up.

Fuck
.

He could not run that scenario.

“Twelve hours since she disappeared, and we have nothing.” Zeb dropped into a chair and swore.

Edgy tension gripped the room. Arabella had taken up residence, refusing to leave. Coffee was delivered from the café on the corner every hour. Iz and his other comms man, Quade hadn’t moved from their chairs since Sophie had disappeared. Every CCTV camera in Denver continued to be hacked in the search for the Jeep.

The walls started pushing in.

His phone pinged. Another text from Annie.

Gemma and Annie had promised to stay at Annie’s, and he’d give them hourly updates. Zeb and Iz checked in with them every twenty minutes. Harlan had put outside security on them as well as Titus and Sally.

“I’m out. You know where I’ll be.”

Chairs swiveled in his direction. He got slight nods from all.

Half an hour later he threw his keys on Sophie’s kitchen counter, inhaled the scent of raspberries, and froze. Each passing hour reminded him with a silent punch to the heart. There was a reason he didn’t get close to anyone. Emotions fucked with your decisions, made you weak.

Made you vulnerable.

He hated the feeling eating his gut, making him hyper-aware, when he shouldn’t be feeling
anything
. Especially now, when he needed to be focused, but images of Sophie assaulted his brain at completely random and unpredictable moments.

The terrible, cold pressure in his body that he’d never see her again tore through his skull. He’d take the pulsing ache in his head over the empty blackness in his heart.

He hadn’t felt like this since he’d been a kid and he’d watched cancer eating his mother alive. The vulnerability, the fear, the helplessness, all came crowding back. He’d vowed that day that he’d never let those out-of-control feelings bombard him again. He’d gone through life shut down, which had worked brilliantly until Sophie had inched her way under his skin.

His phone rang. “Have you found her?” Annie asked.

Harlan closed his eyes, willing patience. “Not yet.”

“What about if we do a missing persons on TV?”

“We’ll find her.”

“Promise?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll get her back.”

“She’s in deep with you,” she whispered.

He flinched at the stab of pain, unable to deflect it, then stuffed his phone into his pocket.

The front door opened at the same moment his phone signaled an incoming text.

His hand automatically reaching for the gun tucked into the back of his jeans, his heart exploding out of his chest.

Sophie took two steps inside, saw him, and jerked to a halt.

He stalked across the room and pulled her against his body, her rapid heartbeat barely keeping up with his. He inhaled her sweet raspberry scent, and the tension started to bleed from his body.

“Harlan, I can’t breathe,” she said and only then did he hold her by her shoulders, not letting her go.

Never letting her go.

She stared at him, her face terrifyingly blank. Her dog threw himself off the sofa and lumbered over to her. She spun out of his hold, sank to the ground, and buried her face in her dog’s neck.

He planted his legs wide and folded his arms across his chest. He sucked in an audible breath. “Did anyone hurt you?” he ground out.

“What?” She kept her face buried in her dog’s neck.

“Did anyone
hurt
you?”

“No.” She stood, and her fingers went to the angry welt on her neck.

He glanced at the welt, then back to her, rage building in his body. “Somebody did hurt you.”

Punching walls wouldn’t help right now; instead he pulled the tie from her hair, buried his face in her neck, breathed deeply, and touched his lips to her skin, inhaling her. His eyes unfocused, feeling only…her.

“Fuck, Sophie. I lost you. I had no angle to run. Nothing. You put yourself out there, made yourself vulnerable, then you were gone.” He dragged his hand through his hair, acid in his mouth. He tucked her stiff body under his chin. “Gone.”

Her body started to loosen, her head nestled into his neck.

He closed his eyes.

Fear, relief, anger, and frustration wrapped together in a complicated ball and squeezed against his skull.

“I need to go phone Titus, Annie, and Gemma.”

She moved out of his arms, and he missed her heat.

“Titus doesn’t know. Too much stress after the fall. I’ll call Annie. I’ve been giving her and Gemma updates.” The text had come from Iz. An unmarked car with no plates had dropped her at the end of the driveway then sped off.

Sophie walked toward her bedroom while he phoned Annie.

“Tell me you have her,” Annie breathed.

“She’s home.”

“Tell her we’ll be around with margaritas, girly snacks, and male appendages.” Annie’s voice smiled into the phone. “You can stay if you want, Harlan, and Thor if he’s around.”

“Not tonight, babe. She’s going to be plastered to my side. As for the other stuff, I don’t drink margaritas, I don’t know what girly snacks are but I’m thinking ‘no,’ and I won’t ever look at another dick, real or otherwise. I can’t speak for Iz but I’m guessing he’s of the same opinion.”

“So critiquing bad porn’s out, too?”

“Always,” he chuckled. “Sophie will phone you.”

He turned to find Sophie staring at him. Sweatshirt hanging from her body, wearing black leggings, biting her lip, but her gaze was strong.

She took his hand and led him to the sofa. Sophie sat, and Harlan sat beside her. She pulled her hand from his and folded both her hands in her lap. Cold fingers gripped his heart at the determination on her pale face.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice strong.

Harlan looked down into her heartbreakingly beautiful face and braced. He didn’t know where they were headed, but he’d deal with it, and they’d move on.

Pongo lay on his bed, one eye on her. Sophie’s eyes rested briefly on her snow globe collection, she swallowed repeatedly, then faced him.

“I loved my daddy. Loved him so much I thought my heart would burst. I was his little girl.” Pain rippled across her face. “I thought we were doing the world a service. Helping people when they needed a prayer the most, but it turns out he wasn’t who I thought he was.” She paused. “When he died I found a journal with the names of the people who’d paid him to bring rains, cure the sick, and find love.” Her voice was whisper quiet. “And I never knew. The charismatic preacher with the plain daughter.”

He closed his eyes briefly.

Oh shit, I should have told her earlier.

If he could dig up O’Connor, he’d do it so he could kill the fucker all over again.

“Your dad wasn’t the preacher who ripped off my mom.”

Relief briefly washed over her face.

“That’s why we had to leave in the middle of the night.” Her teeth indented her lip. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it when I was younger, but I didn’t.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I’ve been paying back the people he stole from. Each name gets an envelope with the amount he swindled and a card signed by one Josiah O’Connor.”

Oh Jesus
.

She paused. He went to grab her hand, but she shook her head. It took everything in his power to keep still.

“He also had a detailed journal on Vladimir Petrov. Newspaper articles, dates and times of where he’d gone. It goes back years. That’s why I went to the mall, alone, so no one else would get hurt. I thought my father had pulled a massive con against Petrov. The plan was to fix my father’s mess, negotiate the terms of the payback, and work out a solution.”

O’Connor had been a total fuckup, but her determination at righting her dad’s wrongs moved him deeply. He leaned in and rested his forehead against hers. “You’re a good woman.”

He’d do anything to take away her pain, absorb it into his body. She needed to know that this wasn’t about some con her father had pulled, but the truth would only hurt her more.

Her forehead still rested on his. “I can’t do this on my own. It’s too big, and I realized today this is about more than just me. The man in the Jeep said another woman’s name. Sarah. Dug told me to talk to you,” she said in a quiet voice.

Harlan’s head snapped back, breaking the connection.

“Dug?”

What the fuck?

“He saw me being followed, rescued me, and took me back to his place until the tranquilizer wore off.”

His fingers flexed.

She stood and paced, her hands on her hips, her voice strong. “I don’t understand what’s happening or why, and I have no idea who this Sarah is.”

His heart pounded, and a thin layer of cold sweat coated his body, but he stayed silent.

She stared out the window, wringing her hands. The only sound in the room was the contented sound of the fridge and the sound of his heart beating out the words “tell her.”

“I’ve had three lovers.” Her voice was strong.

He rubbed at the permanent ache on the back of his neck. “Jesus, Sophie, I don’t care how—”

“Please,” she whispered.

He gave a sharp nod. If she started going into detail he’d have to walk away.

Her eyes flickered closed. “You asked what went wrong in Vegas.”

“Yeah.” He drew a quick breath. She’d gone from being totally into him to refusing to look at him. Her body language had screamed “stay away.”

“The night we had. I would have done anything you’d asked me.
Anything,
and that scared me. A lot. Was I doing it because at a subconscious level I wanted to please you, or was I doing it because I loved it?” She turned her head away. “Then when Ms. F Cup kissed your cheek in the bar, jealousy shot through me. I wanted to walk over and sink to the ground and be your submissive. Be who you wanted me to be.”

Harlan blinked and froze.

“God, it’s so embarrassing.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “It’s what I do. A desperate woman wanting a connection so badly that I lose myself. I won’t do that again, get so caught up in a man, I no longer know what I want or who I am.”

He stared at her tortured face.

A brittle laugh escaped her. “Pathetic, right?”

He wanted everything about her, all she had to give, but not if she wasn’t true to herself.

“The only woman I want is the woman standing in front of me now.”

Her breath hitched.

He walked to where she stood, vulnerable and breathtakingly beautiful. He wrapped her hand in his. “
You
held the power in Vegas. Until then I thought I had the power in our relationship, but you did.” Her fingers spasmed around his. “You wanting me instead of a vibrator made this personal. Made
us
personal, which makes us equal.” He twisted a piece of her hair, bringing her closer until he tasted her sweet breath. Her dark eyes were hesitant and glassy.

He smiled. “Yeah, baby, hurts me to give it up, but it’s the truth.” He leaned in and, brushing his mouth against hers, he felt her shiver. He smiled against her lips. “FYI, I love this Sophie without her guard up, but don’t change, Soph, for me or anyone. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love you doing what I tell you to do, soft and compliant, but we’re going into this without bullshit. Besides…” He brushed the hair from her forehead. “I like you fighting me at every turn.” He paused and stared her straight in the eye, meaning every word. “I’d skin myself rather than hurt you.”

He’d do anything to keep her safe.

Anything but tell her the truth
.

A small stab to the gut.

He angled his head down and kissed her, tasting her sweet lips, her tongue dueling with his, her arms wrapping around his neck.

He broke the kiss. “And I think you liked what we did in Vegas. Your scent filling the room, your skin on fire, so wet I nearly exploded looking at you.”

He kissed her like he’d never be full of her.

That unanswered, unstoppable thread—stronger than steel—bound them, pulled them closer.

If he could, he’d gift wrap the moon and hand it to her with a bow.

He stilled.

The moon with a bow?

If he asked himself if he’d ever think those words, he’d have taken out his gun and shot himself. But this was Sophie, who moved him in ways he couldn’t define and didn’t know if he wanted to.

He nuzzled her neck, the adrenaline leaking from his exhausted body. He needed sleep and Sophie next to him. He dug his hand through his hair. A lot had come out tonight. A lot he had to process, but one thing he did know, Sophie wouldn’t be going anywhere without him for a long time.

She made him
feel
.

He smiled against her neck.

And it felt fucking awesome.

“We’re going to bed. I can sleep now that you’re here with me.”

“Don’t you want to debrief?”

He stood, took her hand, and walked toward the bedroom. “There are some answers that aren’t mine to give, but I promise that tomorrow you will have them. Tonight can you promise me you’ll stay in bed?”

Sophie nodded before stripping to her plain underwear and crawling into bed. He joined her and pulled her into his arms, waiting until her breath evened out, he then walked into her family room leaving her bedroom door open so he could see her.

He checked his email. Petrov was back in the country. He sent an update, including the fact that O’Connor had kept detailed information about Petrov’s movements and that Sophie believed it was Petrov trying to hurt her. He hadn’t come clean about her abduction for the moment. She was safe, and he’d deliver the news to him in person.

Meanwhile, the Jeep had been found abandoned in an alley. Only Sophie’s fingerprints were on the dashboard where she’d clutched the hard plastic. He sucked in a barbed breath, aware how close he’d come to losing her. He’d called in favors and had close to fifty people looking for her, and he hadn’t been able to find her.