Hot for His Hostage (25 page)

Brynn stomped back in, oven mitts on the hands she braced to her hips. “Damn straight
it has.
Shane Burnett
? The world’s last chunk of chivalry from the airport?”

“Shit.” Ellie gasped. “The one with the supersized fries in his crotch?”

Ryder straightened. “You didn’t tell me about the big fries.”

Brynn stomped closer. “You didn’t tell
me
that you spent any more time with him after we got back to the hotel.”

“And there was time to do that…when?” Zoe shot back. “Remember the hangover you boarded
the plane with?”

“The plane.” Ryder repeated it like the words brought new revelation. “Oh,
hell
. Shane is Shay. And he was with you during the shit at A-fifty-one. So does that
mean that Dom-alicious was also one of the dickwads who hijacked your plane?”

“Dom-alicious?” Brynn and El were once more an echoing chorus, complete with their
own accusing gapes.

Colton came to her rescue in the nick of time. Rising with a sweep of his impressive
height, the man silenced the three of them with a single glower.

“As much as I’d love to hear that story and have a sweet piece of blackmail material
to hold over my friend’s head, there’s a larger cow pile to shovel here.” He paced
to the patio door so forcefully, Brynn flattened to the wall to let him by. “I officially
don’t know where they’ve taken Shay. And I’m freaked as a virgin in a whorehouse about
it. Now none of my calls are being returned, my secure email address is no longer
accessible, and my key card doesn’t work at the office.”

So much for the rescue. Zoe surged to her feet. “What does that all mean? ‘They’ who?”

Before she could interpret anything from his cryptic glare of a reply, her cell vibrated
on the dining room table. The window didn’t identify a caller. She showed it to Colton,
who nodded at her to answer but keep the device tilted so he could listen. She wiped
her clammy palms on her thighs before clicking open the line with a wobbly finger.

“H-Hello?”

Several sickening beats of silence went by.

“It’s Ghid.”

“Uh, hi.”
Hi? Really? Think you can handle things a little better than reverting to the age
of fifteen, Zo
? “How’d you get my number?” she charged. “Why are you calling?”

“It’s a good thing the I-man has an excellent memory chip. Remarkably, he was able
to dig your digits out of his ass, even in this condition.”

Zoe scowled, baffled. “What?”

“Hey…dancer.”

In the same instant, his voice lit up her soul and broke her heart. He sounded parched,
exhausted, weak…and alive.

 “Shay?” It was a combination of sigh and sob. “
Ay Dios mio
. Where are you?”

Another unnerving silence. Ghid’s burlap tone filled the line again. “Has Colton found
you yet?”

She looked over to the agent, unsure how to answer in light of the way his eyes had
gone Hulk green with rage. “Yeah,” he seethed, “I’m right here, ass munch.”

“Thank fuck.” Shay mumbled it that time, sounding more pained. Zoe winced before exchanging
a confused glance with Colton, who spoke up on behalf of them both.

“What the hell is going on?” Colton charged. “Who are you and what do you want with
Bommer?”

Shay came on again, replacing his strain with wrath. “Goddamnit, Colton. Stop being
Cowboy Bob. He’s not the bad guy.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?” Colton flung. “You’ve been MIA for four days,
Bommer.”

“I’m well aware of that, you ass.” He sifted the anger from it to add, “And pretty
sure today would’ve been my last one alive, if it weren’t for Ghid.”

“Nah.” A horn sounded in the background to help punctuate it, clarifying the two of
them were in a car somewhere together. “They wouldn’t have killed you, kid. Not before
dicing you up a bit more.”

“
Dios
.” Zoe couldn’t help emitting another sob. “Then thank heaven for you, Ghid.”

Colton didn’t look anywhere near ready to join in her gratitude. “‘They’ who?” he
challenged.

Ghid paused before answering—long enough to let a strange, foreboding lump form at
the base of Zoe’s throat. “The same ‘they’ I’m not going to talk about over the phone,
even if we’re using a burner.” The traffic noises behind him grew a little louder,
as if they’d gotten onto the freeway. “And the same ‘they’ who are likely on their
way to scoop you both up now.”

“Both of us?” Zoe questioned. “You mean Agent Colton and me?”

“What the hell?” Colton charged. “Why?”

Zoe couldn’t interpret the snorts Ghid and Shay emitted, roughening the line. Wait.
Maybe she could.

Were they
chuckling
about this?

“Let’s just say that your big brothers don’t like it when someone comes and takes
their toys, Colton.”

The agent frowned. “I don’t have any brothers.”

“Yeah, you do. The big, happy Langley, Virginia family, remember?”

Zoe found herself the lone witness to Colton’s stunned glare. She was pretty certain
she shared the expression.

Had the
CIA
been holding Shay for the last four days?

“Ghid…that’s a big gap of belief to jump,” she finally said. “And if it were the case,
why wouldn’t the feds just call Colton in, instead of ‘scooping him up’?”

“Don’t bother answering that, man.” The astonishing interjection belonged to Colton,
who had his cell pulled out—with an expression that blew from fury to alarm in two
seconds. “I’m already looking at the explanation. You’re not shitting about this.”

“Wish I was,” Ghid muttered.

Brynn, pressed up behind Colton’s other shoulder, also frowned. “What are all those
red dots on the screen?” she asked. “And why are they all bunching up in the parking
lot at the grocery store up the street?”

“It’s not for a fucking sale on Bugles and beer,” Colton muttered.

Ghid grunted. “You’re able to track the other agents in the city?”

“For safety and security purposes,” Colton supplied. “In this case, mine.”

“Yeah, we’ll see how long they let that last.”

As Ghid declared it, all the dots vanished from the screen.

“Oh, no!” Brynn grabbed Colton’s wrist and shook it, along with the phone. To Zoe’s
surprise, the agent reacted with what looked like enchantment instead of anger.

“It’s not an Etch A Sketch, red.”

Brynn was too stressed to latch onto the humor. With panic in her eyes, she looked
across the room. “Ellie!”

The hail was redundant. El was already halfway across the room, one hand extended.
“Give,” she commanded Colton. The agent, too nonplussed to argue, complied. By the
time El had tapped the device a dozen times and completed her technical magic, the
trace dots were so globbed together at the grocery store, it appeared like a blood
splotch on the screen.

“Shit,” Brynn rasped. “I liked it better when it was an Etch A Sketch.”

“Zoe.” Shay’s voice, though still craggy, now reverberated with his Dominant’s baritone.
“You’re in danger, too, dancer. A shit-ton of it.”

“M-me?” She hated herself for getting tremulous. The last thing Shay needed right
now was a woman going soggy on him. Still, her confusion was legit. “Wh-why?”

“You know about me now.”

“Know
what
about you?”
That you have the strongest arms that have ever held me, know the fastest paths into
my soul, give kisses I’d sacrifice a kidney for?

“I’ll explain soon, I promise. You just both need to get out of there. Now.”

“We can go to my place.” Ryder pulled out his keys. “As long as you all promise to
take off your shoes. I had the carpets done last week.”

“El and I are closer,” Brynn countered.

“None of that works,” Ghid ordered. “I guarantee these guys will be pounding on all
your
doors next.”

“I’ve got something that’ll work.”

Colton’s assertion was quiet but strong, enough to still everyone in the room. Still,
Ghid countered, “Fine and dandy, spook man, but you can’t spill it on this party line.”

Colton smirked. “Sure I can.” After a second, he called out, “Yo, I-Man?”

“Yeah?” Shay’s reply had weakened again, turning Zoe’s gut into a pretzel.

“Listen up.”

There was a rustling on the other end, as if the phone were being picked up. Sure
enough, Shay’s next words were louder, right into the phone but just as tired. “Go
ahead.”

“I want you to subtract eleven from thirteen, then go south but shoot north.”

“Huh?” Zoe stammered.

“What the hell?” El and Brynn chorused.

“Got it,” Shay confirmed.

“
Huh
?” Zoe bugged her eyes but Colton maintained his focus.

“I won’t repeat for obvious reasons, but it’s in the decoder,” Shay stated.

“The decoder?” That one came from Ghid. “
What
decoder?”

“The one between my ears. What’s after that, Dan?’

“Double your age,” the agent replied. “When you’ve gotten to the target, ask for Oz.”

“As in the Wizard of?” Ry sneered. “Oh, this should be fun.”

Ellie drummed a finger at Colton’s phone. “No time for fun. The red dots are on the
move.”

“Which means we are, too,” Colton ordered. “Leave your phones, grab your purses, and
let’s bug. I’m driving.”

“Ry always carries the purses.” Brynn stated it as they hung their bags along one
of Ryder’s long, lean arms. “In the mall, that leaves us free to shop. In a situation
like this, I suggest replacing shoes with booze.”

Despite the stress lining every inch of his face, one side of Colton’s mouth yanked
up. “Zoe, I must commend you on your taste in friends.” He didn’t veer his gaze from
Brynn. “They’re beautiful
and
smart.”

“Awww. Thank you, cutie.” Ryder beat Brynn to the punch on a response, though he had
an unfair advantage. It was tough for Brynn to speak around the giggle she shared
with Ellie as Ry gave an appreciative squeeze to Colton’s ass on his way out the door.

* * * * *

An hour later, Zoe tried to remember the metaphor she’d conceived while gazing at
the stars back home. Something about life and somersaults…

Well, the comparison needed a serious upgrade now. Something along the lines of a
couple of
loco
backflips.

She could only see a few stars now, though the light pollution from The Strip was
a full fifty-four floors down. That didn’t matter when one was competing with a nighttime
playground so iconic, some say it could be seen from space. From this picture window
in the Vdara’s penthouse, all the icons looked like sleek postcards—the gold bastions
of the Wynn and Encore, the Bellagio fountains, the Paris’s Eiffel Tower and hot air
balloon—increasing the sensation that this was somehow all the craziest dream she’d
ever had. In a second, she’d surely wake up in her room at the Hilton back in LA,
rocking the hangover from hell along with the realization she
had
joined the gang on those margaritas—and that Shay Bommer had been nothing but a perfect
man in a magical dream.

“Miss? The food has arrived.”

The statement, though soft, was issued in a voice so deep that she felt it to her
toes. Just like Dorothy Gale, her dream had its own wizard, though hers wore tailored
black leathers instead of a carpetbagger look, rocked two full sleeves of exotic tattoos,
and had a face so beautiful, one barely noticed the severe skull cut of his jet black
hair.

“Thanks, Oz,” she replied, just as subdued, “but I’m not very hungry.”

Furrows appeared in the man’s silk-smooth forehead. “Are you unhappy with the accommodations?”

She almost burst out laughing. How could anyone be dissatisfied with this place? The
two-bedroom suite, with its modern lines, gray and purple furnishings, and state of
the art
everything
for amenities, was fit for rock stars and moguls, not a bunch of backup dancers from
a show up the street. When Colton told them he “knew a guy here” who’d promised he’d
always have a place to stay, she wondered if that man was the damn owner, and exactly
what kind of favor he owed Colton.

“No, Oz,” she protested. “Everything’s wonderful. Really.”

I’m just agonizing every minute Shay still isn’t here. Wondering if that pained quaver
in his voice has gotten worse. Beyond stressed about the completely cryptic directions
that Colton gave them, and trying not to think about them ending up in the middle
of the Mojave, instead
.

With the telepathy only possible from a best friend, Ryder translated her stress into
the most perfect words possible. “Colton, sweetie? While it goes without saying that
we all couldn’t be happier with your secret hideout, can you enlighten us how the
hell Shay and his friend will find us, too?”

Colton finished his bite from the flatbread pizza Oz had brought, then flashed what
had to be his eighth complimentary smile at Brynn for the wine choice. “I-Man and
I are a couple of action movie geeks. I banked on him remembering the films that were
shot in Vegas.”