Keep (Command #2) (18 page)

“Wait —” Her voice cracked with stress but the man didn’t hesitate. He shoved it over her head, making everything black. She was panting for breath, the fabric clinging to her mouth and nose, and when she went to adjust it, rough hands grasped her arms and thrust her to turn. Pulled her in a new direction. She was already disoriented from the bag, but she tried to keep ahold of herself.

The heat was noticeably stronger.
What if they push you into the fire,
her irrational brain screamed. She continued along, stumbling and half-carried by the men until the crackling flames were behind her. Her feet weren’t on the ground anymore as the hands lifted and then threw her forward. Her elbows and knees took the worst of the impact as she landed on a hard, uneven surface, but something cut across her bicep. One of them laughed when she swore with pain. Hands drove her head down, forced her to lie awkwardly in the cramped space.

It was the trunk of a car.

“Take off your hood and I’ll put a bullet in each eye.” He slammed the trunk closed and her stomach flipped when the car lurched forward, peeling out.

Left, left… a bridge, then right. She tried to keep her mind focused on this and not the horrified scream she wanted to unleash. Another right turn. Or was it more of a gentle merge? Don’t think about that blond woman that was murdered. Don’t think about whether or not you’ll see the people you care about again. Where they driving in circles? No. Her heart sank further. It was a roundabout. After what felt like thirty minutes she gave up on the turns and focused on what else she could do. This might be her only time alone.

Besides being gorgeous, this dress had a pocket hidden in the folds of the skirt. Not big enough for her phone, which was in her purse somewhere back on the lawn, but it had room for her slim wallet. Which had her ID in it. She shifted uncomfortably, twisting to extract the wallet, which was a challenge with her hands bound together. She hurried, not knowing how much longer she had before they’d arrive wherever they were taking her.

Her fingers fumbled over the plastic cards, trying to find the one without raised numbers. Her fingers closed over something she wasn’t expecting. Soft paper with raised ink.

Shawn’s business card. She shoved it in her bra.

And then she found the ID and stuck it inside her shoe so she’d be standing on it when she was upright.

The hood was hot and she was sweating under it, but she left it intact. At one point she ran her hands around the space but it was nothing but smooth metal. They’d stripped it of carpet and a latch release. It was forever before the car finally stopped, but once it did it was too soon. She wasn’t ready for whatever was waiting on the other side of that trunk. Whoever was waiting for her.

The cool night air chilled her skin when the trunk opened. Hands lifted her out and dragged her across grass. Up steps and onto a hard surface. And again, the hands lifted and shoved her. She skidded to a stop across what felt like a bare mattress, and scrambled to sit upright. Audible footsteps approached, and the hood was yanked off, the static from the fabric made her hair fly around, wild.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the light, but it wasn’t terribly bright in the large room. She sat on a grimy, bare mattress, in what looked like a barn that hadn’t been in use in years. In front of her a man stood, the black hood in one hand and a gun in the other.

There wasn’t a shred of doubt in her mind, even though he looked different from Jason’s picture. Now his hair was sandy blond. The man before her in a suit with no tie was Juric. He was as attractive as he was terrifying. The same age as Kara, maybe a year or two older. His disturbing and piercing blue eyes accessed her clinically.

He turned to the two men waiting, his face giving nothing away. He leveled the gun at the leader, the one who had bound her wrists, and a sharp crack ripped from Juric’s gun, followed by another. She hadn’t seen him move; he’d been that fast. Both men left smears of red on the wall as they fell.

The strangled cry died in her throat.
Do not show fear to this man.
Satisfied that they were dead, Juric lowered the gun and set his focus back on her.

His voice was soft and seductive, disorienting given his actions. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Kara.”

Blank. No thought, no breathing, nothing. Then, slowly her shock faded. He sounded American, and that made her more uneasy. The piercing gaze didn’t seem disappointed, or angry.
Oh, shit.
He seemed almost excited.

Kara scrambled to find something to say. “She couldn’t make it. You’ll have to settle for me.” The words sounded much stronger than she felt.

“Settle for you?” The blue of his irises was like that of a violent sea. “No, I’m not doing that.”

She drew a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, keeping herself calm. She was desperate not to choke on her panic. There was something in his face that was haunting and horrifying.

“Stand up, please.”

She moved slowly but obeyed, rising to her feet from the mattress. With the heels on, she was taller than him and that caused him to take a hesitant step back. She was too tall and he wasn’t prepared for that.

“Take off your shoes.”

She stepped out of them. It didn’t matter if he found her ID card, he already knew who she was.

The gaze worked its way over her skin, making her feel naked. His voice was low and appreciative, and her stomach rolled. “I like this dress.”

How could she respond to that, other than to shudder? Her eyes were glued to the gun at his side, and he noticed. Juric brushed a hand over his short, perfectly kept hair. He moved with an elegance that was off-putting, as if everything was calculated, and then the gun disappeared into his suit coat.

“Does that make you feel safer?” he asked.

“No. It doesn’t.”

He gave her a pleasant smile. “Why do you think that is?”

Maybe she could stall him. Maybe Jason or the police weren’t far behind and any moment they’d burst through the barn door.

“I’m not naïve,” she said, for her benefit more than his. “Plus, I know what kind of man you are.”

“Really?” He looked, for lack of a better word, delighted. “What kind of man am I?”

“You’ll do anything to get what you want.”

“How do you know that?” His tone mocked her.

“I used to be married to a man like you.”

He gave her a look with his pure eyes shining, one that said he highly doubted Paul was anything like him. That he was so, so much worse than her ex-husband.

“We’re going to have fun together, you and me.” A chill ran down her spine. “Are you okay? Did the men hurt you?”

She clenched her teeth together so hard it hurt. “Your men weren’t exactly gentle.”

His eyes dipped down to the gash in her arm that had stopped bleeding, but blood was smeared and crusted there. “I’m sorry about that,” he said. “In case you didn’t notice, I took care of it.” He gestured to the bodies, but she swept her gaze quickly away. “They were told not to harm you.”

Her lungs refused to work when he came close enough that she could hear his steady breathing, as if mocking her with his ease. Casual. Relaxed. She recoiled when he reached a hand out to slip it behind her neck.

“Don’t touch me.”

He stared at her, evaluating. “Lie down on the mattress.”

The way he commanded it and the dark look that overtook him scared her so much she whimpered. “I’d prefer to stand.”

“This isn’t about what you want.”

He shoved her backwards, and because her hands were bound in front of her, she went down with nothing to break the fall, except for his arms. He collapsed her back onto the mattress, laying her down gently. While she tried to recover, he stepped and put a foot on either side of her hips, then dropped on top of her, trapping her under his full weight.

She swung at him, but he grabbed the plastic tie and wrenched her hands above her head. It was easy for him.

“Don’t do this. If you fight, I’m going to win.”

It didn’t matter; she’d fight anyway. All the way until the end. “You’ve already lost,” she spat out. “Your men brought me to you, instead of Laurel.”

At the sound of her sister’s name, one hand tightened painfully on her neck and his nostrils flared. Juric was furious. He glared down at her, the center of his pupils like black holes sucking her in. He wanted to murder her.

But instead, he took a deep breath. Then, another. Calm washed over him, a few seconds at a time, until a slow, evil smile tugged across his lips. The room went cold when he let go of her and sat upright, keeping her pinned to the mattress.

“Kara.” His voice scolded like she should know better. “My men weren’t supposed to bring me anyone else. They came for you.”

Shawn’s muscles refused to respond. They’d solidified into stone when the bag descended over Kara’s head. His brewery was burning. At least one of his employees was dead. He had nothing, no control. He was fucking powerless as the men dragged Kara stumbling away.

The nothingness receded. Blinding anger and fury flooded into the empty space where he welcomed it. The fire raging deep inside him warmed his body back into action. He bolted to Jason, who’d already drawn the Glock pistol usually concealed inside his suit. His hardened eyes didn’t change when they focused on Shawn. The years of law enforcement training must have kicked in and Jason came to his feet, his gaze sweeping the lawn for any potential threat.

“Are you going to just stand there?” Shawn lashed out in German. Every second Kara was out of his sight…

His brother’s gaze found Markus. “Take L and get out of the city,” he ordered the bodyguard, and then Jason slammed his mouth against his wife’s in a hurried kiss.

“
Ich liebe dich
,” she said. “Go!”

And finally his brother moved toward the hole between the burning trucks that Kara had been taken through. Jason didn’t say a damn thing when Shawn kept up with him step for step. There wasn’t time for it, anyway —

A rough, strong hand grabbed at the center of his shirt and yanked Shawn to a stop. “This could be a fucking trap,” Jason said urgently. “Stay behind me.”

When he released the fistful of shirt, he shoved Shawn backward so hard that it almost sent him down into the grass. Because it was dangerous going through that opening. Jason leveled his gun at the center and stalked towards it, vanishing in the smoke. No gunfire sounded. Shawn hurried after him.

It was blisteringly hot and the smell of burning rubber choked him. The air was so thick he felt like he had to fight against it to move forward. There was no point keeping his eyes open; they were burning and it was pitch black in the fog. He covered his mouth with a hand to quiet the desperate urge to cough, ducked his head down, and barreled through. He came out the other side, his eyes watering and searching wildly for his brother.

There was a blur of movement heading for the parking lot. His brother’s plan was to get to his BMW as fast as possible, and Shawn was going to have to fucking hurry or else he was going to be left behind. Pavement gritted under his shoes as he skidded to a stop at the passenger door and jumped in. Tires squealed as they flew backward out of the space and then launched forward, tearing for the main gate.

Up in the distance, two pairs of taillights streaked right past the security booth. No one stopped them. The gate was wide open. One pair of lights swung right, quickly followed by the other as the gunmen left the brewery and sped off.

“Fucking drive!” Shawn yelled over the roaring engine. The SUV wasn’t anywhere near as fast as his Audi. He wanted to lean over and slam his foot on top of Jason’s, but he was fairly certain the pedal was already down as far as it would go. The taillights grew smaller as Jason neared the gate, preparing to turn.

There was blood splattered on the open door to the small security station and a leg sticking out, as if the employee manning it had fallen down. Shawn’s gaze snapped back out the windshield, needing to focus on the pair of cars ahead. One of them had Kara in it.

The two cars hit the main road and turned left, speeding off and disappearing behind the line of trees.

“Shit!
Shit!”
Jason abruptly yelled, reverting to English as he slammed on the brakes.