Keep (Command #2) (22 page)

“
Nein
,” she said, “
Nein
.” Her wounded body forced the door open and she was out in the overcast, gloomy day again, alone.

Giving up the card had been difficult, but it wasn’t anywhere near as difficult or risky as what she was about to do. The men in that shop would call Shawn. It had been too bizarre for them not to. If she somehow managed to get away, this would only prolong the inevitable. Juric would come after them again. There was no way she’d let him get away with what he’d done.

No, Shawn would tell Jason and he’d devise a plan to save her and get the man hunting his wife. He would be able to strike offensively, and without a CIA agent standing in his way.

She wandered back the direction she’d come as the rain began to fall, putting distance between the butcher shop and herself, back to the broken stone wall. When Juric caught her, hopefully he wouldn’t realize she’d made it that far and doubled-back. Because what sane person would do that? He’d never know about the card in the butcher shop and continue to believe his captive’s location was a secret. Shit, this was the worst idea she’d ever had, and she was literally gambling with her life.

The cold rain numbed her aching body as she followed the wall away from the road. There was no evidence of civilization here in the forest, except for the stacked stones that someone had put there long ago. Only the quiet raindrops and earthy smell of damp leaves.

A large evergreen provided shelter from the worst of the rain. She curled up beneath it, the lumpy roots uncomfortable and making it impossible to lie down. So she leaned her back against the trunk and gave in to the exhaustion.

The ride back to Munich was a blur for Shawn. When had it become day? He’d phoned his CIO at home and woken him, asking for the number of his best person in networking. Since the email came into an Osterhägen server, they’d start there. He’d also sent the email to Ethan, who gave a vague statement about forwarding it to their technology department. The struggle against the irrational, possessive desire to not share the image of Kara in her underwear with a bunch of strangers was something he crushed immediately.

When they neared the gate to the brewery, Ethan asked to get out. “There’s going to be press.” He unbuckled his seat belt and pushed the door open. “I’ll be in touch.”

It left Shawn alone with his brother to face the blackened building and scorched lawn. His eyes assessed the brewery as Jason navigated the car through the throng of reporters shooting segments, using his damaged brewery as their backdrop. The wreckage of the semi trucks had been hauled away, so at least that was good.

“She’s still alive,” Jason said, his voice quiet. “Focus on that. You know she’s tough. She puts up with you.”

He couldn’t even manage a smile. “I’ll shower and get changed, and meet you at the safe house,” Shawn said when they pulled alongside his Audi.

“Be careful.”

“You, too.”

Security escorted him from the brewery to his home, and into the building. They’d remain in the lobby for him; he’d told them he’d only be a few minutes. It wasn’t until Shawn was alone in the elevator that he allowed the panic to consume him.
Kara.
He should be thinking about his company, but all he could do was think about her, and the man who’d undoubtedly put that bruise on her cheek. He’d fucking kill him if he got the chance.

He swore out loud when the key in the front door gave him trouble. And once again when he saw what waited for him, propped up against a box in his empty living space.

A large, elegant frame wrapped around a stunning black and white picture. The only color was the blue bow draped on a corner of the frame, signifying this was a gift. A birthday present for him that she’d intended Shawn to see after the party. Artwork for his bare walls.

He put a hand on the counter to steady himself as he gazed at the photograph that captured it so perfectly.

His brewery.

It made him ache. When he got her back, he was never going to let her go.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed, but it was growing dark outside. The rain had stopped when the pair of hands seized Kara’s shoulders, startling her awake. His blue eyes were only an inch away from her face, and she was too disoriented to comprehend what was happening. Juric looked different. Panicked. Was she delirious?

“Can you stand up for me?” he asked.

She tried but her body was as stiff as the tree she leaned against. A voice that sounded like hers spoke, but it was odd and detached. “I’m thirsty.”

“I’ve got water in the car.” He straightened and peered over his shoulder. Then, words that sounded like nonsense from him. No, Italian. Who was he talking to?

The other man, who she couldn’t see, responded and Juric’s gaze snapped back to her. Branches crunched underfoot as the man Juric had been talking to went, leaving her alone with the pair of unflinching eyes she hated. He put a hand under each arm and drew her forward, up into his embrace, causing her to moan with pain. He pulled a hand away and, seeing it wet with her blood, seemed to kick him into high gear.

Once again, she clung to him as he lifted her into his arms, sloshing through the forest. She struggled to stay conscious and lucid, but every blink of her eyes made her surroundings change.

“It’s not that much further,” he said.

When she blinked again, they were beside the Mercedes. He set her on her feet and leaned her against the car, but as he reached for the door handle her knees gave out and her body crumbled. Rough hands captured her and kept her from collapsing. She didn’t care that he was holding her. She was too weak to waste the energy trying to fight him. She simply had to survive until rescue could get to her.

Juric set her in the passenger seat. His hands shook when he unscrewed the cap to the water bottle and handed it to her. She drank and drank, until it was gone. He started the car and cranked the heat up on high, and then all he did was stare at the steering wheel, looking puzzled. She expected him to produce handcuffs or another needle, but he remained unmoving. What the hell was going on? She closed her arms around her body —

Everything went black.

She came to on a rug. The tile floor beneath it was hard and cold, but she didn’t mind. She was warm and it didn’t hurt anymore. She felt… good. Happy. There was a noise that took a moment to identify: a shower running. Her hands pushed her up, so she could sit and take in her surroundings.

This wasn’t the tiny bathroom in the basement — it was large and open. The all-glass shower had a seat in it. Where had he taken her? He leaned against the counter, watching her intently, his face filled with something that might pass as concern.

“Are you in any pain?”

She ignored him and put a dirt-caked foot underneath her body, pulling herself up with a hand on the counter. Which was not a good idea and he was ready when everything blurred from moving too quickly.

“Where am I?” She recovered and tried to back out of the arms that encased her.

“Where we were before.”

Hopefully the relief that swept through her didn’t show. He could have moved her while she was passed out, derailing her plan —

“What are you doing?” she said. He unbuttoned her dirt-encrusted pants and peeled them down to her ankles. Where he knelt and urged her to step out of them by pushing her leg. Was this real? What the hell was happening? Independent of her brain, her body complied, eager to get out of the wet, muddy pants.

“Can you take off your shirt, please?” His voice was hushed. It was so confusing; it would have made her dizzy if she weren’t already. When she didn’t move, his hands went to the hem of her shirt and dragged the damp fabric up, which clung to her. Her body didn’t fight him, like her brain was no longer online. She stood before him again in just her undergarments. She’d been so focused on what was happening, she hadn’t realized there was a large mirror behind him.

“Don’t look,” he said, but it was too late. The side of her body streaked with blood. Bruises, mud… the purple-yellow swollen cheek. She didn’t care right now. She knew she should, but her thoughts were fuzzy.

He brushed a piece of wet, clumped hair off of her forehead. Like he cared about her. Her hand pushed his away, and she had to brace herself against the counter right after. She had to get away from him.

“Stop it.” She was emotionally seasick.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

This was a ploy, right? He didn’t leave her much time to consider it because he pulled his own shirt off, the one with her blood smeared on it. And then he shed his pants too, so he was only in a pair of boxers.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was loud this time. The blood rushed in her ears and her head pounded.

“We’re both covered in mud and you can barely stand. You’ll collapse in the shower.”

He trapped her in his arms, herding her towards the glass door. When she resisted, he simply lifted her off the floor and stepped into the shower where the warm water soaked them both. He eased her down onto the seat, which made her avert her eyes. He had to have on white boxers, so they were entirely see-through when wet.

Juric stood under the water and set about rinsing the mud away from his body. “You can look,” he said. “I am.”

Her head turned away and she folded her arms over her chest. Shouldn’t she be upset with this? All she could think about was the tingling in her skin and the bizarre smile on her face. He finished cleaning and knelt before her on the tile floor, his piercing eyes wandering down her body. He took her leg in his hands and ran the soap over it. Mud swirled down the drain.

“Stop,” she said. This was horrifying.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Kara.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” He finished with that leg and did the other. The shower was warm, but she wasn’t under the water like he was, so her skin pebbled beneath his touch. That was the cause of this. Not his touch alone, she told herself. Her eyes closed and her head fell back against the tile wall.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“You haven’t figured that out yet?”

She had. It had been lurking in her subconscious but she refused to believe. When she opened her eyes in alarm, he leaned over her, a hand on the wall on either side of her head. Her breath caught. He dropped his head to hers and kissed her.

-14-

Juric’s kiss was so much worse than the knife. Worse than all the other damage he’d inflicted upon her. Kara tried to fight, to break it off, but she was unable. He was warm and her skin sang with every touch and her brain could not get control of her body. She just sat there, her back against the cold tile wall, surrounded by steam and the monster above her.

It dawned on her why she had no pain and no control. “You
drugged
me,” she said. “The water bottle.”

“I’m drugging you now,” he murmured, his lips returning to hers. That wasn’t a confession or a denial. His tongue was invasive but she had no resistance. What the hell had he dosed her with?

“Do you want to kiss me?” he asked.

“No.”

His mouth left hers and traveled downwards to the hollow at the base of her throat. “Come on, don’t just sit there.”

“I have no desire to kiss you.”