No Turning Back (35 page)

As nonchalantly as my racing pulse and sweaty palms would allow, I pushed the cart closer to him, keeping my head down. I hadn't seen any cameras but I was sure at least one was around. My heart rate picked up even more when I saw he was sitting in front of a windowless door. I prayed that Blane was behind it.

When I was a few feet away, the man stood and I had to gulp. He towered over me, at least six feet tall and built like a linebacker. I closed my hands in fists to stop them from shaking.

"What are you doing here?" the man asked gruffly. I bent over my cart, picking up a random can and a cloth.

"Ah wuz told ta clean the bathrooms down heah," I said, nodding towards the door behind him and laying the hick accent on thick. I was careful not to meet his eyes.

"Well this isn't the bathroom," he retorted. "It's at the end of the hall, so get moving." I nodded like I was listening to him and turned away. Suddenly, I clutched my stomach and bent over, moaning in pain.

"Hey, what's going on? What are you doing?" he said anxiously, bending toward where I was hunched over. Spinning around, I aimed the can in his face and pressed the nozzle. A white foam hit him right in the eyes and he yelled in pain, clapping his hands to his face. Grabbing the plunger off my cart, I wielded the long wooden handle like it was a baseball bat and swung as hard as I could. It bounced off his ribs like it was a toy and he reached one hand blindly inside his jacket.

Terrified that he was reaching for a gun, I swung again but before it could make contact, he grabbed it, ripping it out of my hands. Grabbing the front of my overalls, he threw me hard against the wall, my head cracking painfully against the stone and I slid to the floor. Shaking my head to try and clear my now blurry vision, I saw him move to grab me. Scrabbling on the floor away from him, I grabbed the cart for leverage and watched in horror as it tipped over on its side. The bucket of soapy water spilled across the floor and I rolled to avoid it.

The man stepped toward me and I watched as his foot slipped in the water, sending him crashing to the ground. His head knocked hard on the floor and he was still.

Gasping for air, I lay there for a moment, shaking uncontrollably. Crawling over to him, I felt for a pulse, relief flooding me when I felt it. I certainly hadn't wanted to kill him; unconscious was good enough. Reaching inside his jacket, I found his gun and took it. I pushed my hands into his pants pockets, wrinkling my nose in distaste, and found the keys I was hoping he would have.

Leaping to my feet, I tried to unlock the door. It took a couple of tries but I finally heard the lock tumble. Pushing open the door, a scream caught in my throat as I was unceremoniously dragged inside and shoved against the wall. The hat was knocked off my head.

"Kathleen?" The shock on Blane's face might've been amusing if our situation weren't so dire. Then all thought was driven out of my head when his mouth landed hard on mine. It wasn't a sensual kiss or even tender. It was desperation and hunger poured from him into me. When he finally pulled away, I was gasping for air. His bound hands cupped my face.

"They told me you were dead," he said hoarsely, his eyes intent on mine. I struggled to keep my wits about me when really I just wanted to fall into his arms and kiss him back with equal urgency.

"Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated," I quoted, still a bit breathless. Blane's lips tipped up like he was thinking about smiling. "I'm here to bust you out," I continued. "Let me go now?" He abruptly released me and I could almost see him regaining his usual mask of detachment.

"How did you get in here?" he asked. I tugged at the knots on the cords tying his hands together, impressed that he'd still managed to grab me even with that handicap.

"I'm temping here today and saw you on the security cameras," I said, unwinding the cord from his arms. Once it was loosened, he pulled the rest of it off himself. His shirt was hanging open and I saw what had caused the blood stain now. A shallow cut ran across his chest, dried blood crusting it. My fingers reached out to touch him, but stopped when he grabbed my wrist.

"Are you all right?" I said anxiously, inspecting the marks on his face and relieved to find they were mostly superficial.

"I'm fine," he answered curtly. "Though I have a serious problem with you being within a mile of this place." His jaw clenched in anger and I pressed my lips together in a stubborn line.

"I don't recall asking your permission," I said evenly. How typical! Here I was, saving him, and he was going to argue with me about it! Before I could say anything further, Blane had plucked the gun out of my hand.

"Hey!" I protested but he interrupted.

"Stay behind me," he ordered, opening the door into the hallway. A quick check revealed we were still alone. Blane took in the guard lying motionless on the floor.

"Is he dead?" he asked.

"Of course not!" I retorted, stung that he'd think I'd just decide to kill someone willy-nilly. "I wasn't trying to kill him. Just knock him out."

"And how did you manage that?" Blane asked, tugging the body into the room as I held the door open.

"I hit him with a plunger."

He froze, his eyes meeting mine in disbelief. I shrugged. "Then he slipped and hit his head. I got lucky."

Blane raised an eyebrow before shaking his head. "Let's hope your luck holds," he muttered as he removed the man's jacket and threw it on over his ruined shirt. It fit well enough. "Let's go."

I grabbed my purse from where it had fallen off the cart and we headed back down the hall to the elevator, Blane leading the way. My heart was in my throat but we didn't meet anyone else. It had to be past five now. People would be leaving for the day. I hoped we could blend in with the rest of the crowd and walk out the front door.

Not seeing any cameras in the freight elevator, I hurriedly took off my overalls, tugging down my skirt that had bunched around my waist. A little wrinkly but overall not too bad. I tried to repair my French twist but it had completely fallen out so made do by smoothing my hair as much as possible and finger combing it. Blane's eyes were on me but I ignored him, my cheeks flushing under his watchful gaze.

Reaching the basement, we headed down the hallway toward the other elevator. I was beginning to breathe easier now. Freedom was very close. I should have known better.

"What are you doing down here?" A man called from behind us. I reflexively looked behind us, gasping when I saw the man pull out a gun.

"Stop right there!" he called out, breaking into a jog. Blane's hand wrapped around my upper arm in an iron grip and he pulled me into a run. The sound of a gunshot made me cry out in surprise as it ricocheted off the concrete wall. I tried to keep up with Blane but my skirt and shoes slowed me down.

We reached the elevator and Blane slammed his hand on the call button. Hooking an arm around my waist, he dragged me in front of him to press between the closed elevator door and his body. I heard another gunshot and cringed into him. His body jerked slightly and he grunted. Turning but still shielding me, he aimed and fired off a shot. I heard a thud and clatter and hoped he'd hit the guy.

The elevator doors opened and we fell inside. Hurriedly, I pressed the button for the lobby and repeatedly jabbed at the switch to close the doors, melting against the wall in relief when they slid closed.

Turning toward Blane, my breath caught in my throat. I grabbed his jacket and pulled it aside to see a red stain spreading on his shirt as he leaned against the back wall.

"Oh my God, Blane! You were hit!" I felt lightheaded as I took in the angry, pulsing wound in his shoulder.

"I'll be fine," he said, grimacing. "It looks worse than it feels." I remembered saying the same thing to him about my black eye.

"Good, because it looks horrible," I retorted past the lump in my throat. It didn't escape my notice that what had hit him in the shoulder would have hit me in the head if he hadn't been shielding me.

The doors opened and I struggled to look calm and normal. We exited the elevator and I focused on the doors ahead of us. They were only fifty feet away.

A few people were leaving and we walked behind them as they talked and laughed with one another. A few glances came our way but I deliberately avoided eye contact. Instinctively, I reached for Blane's hand, drawing comfort from his large, warm grip. Thirty feet.

Motion caught the corner of my eye and I saw two men rushing toward the elevator we had just exited. Fear iced the blood in my veins and I clutched Blane's hand.

"It's all right," he murmured quietly to me. "Keep moving." I tried to stay calm and keep it together. Twenty feet. Fifteen. It was all I could do to keep my pace even with Blane's measured steps when every fiber of my body wanted to run. Ten feet. Five.

Then we were outside and I wanted simultaneously to laugh and weep from relief. Blane gave in to my tugging and we walked faster. Glancing up, I saw his lips were pressed tightly together and his face was pale under his tan. A grimace of pain was carved into his mouth. Taking his arm, I pulled it over my shoulder as I slid an arm beneath his jacket behind his back. He didn't say anything but he leaned on me.

Rounding the corner of the building, I was grateful night had almost fallen. We'd only taken a few steps when Kade materialized in front of us.

"What the fuck did you do?" he bit out at me, taking in Blane's wound.

"Not her fault," Blane said, wincing as Kade took over helping Blane walk to his car. I rushed to open the passenger door and Blane got inside, leaning back against the seat and closing his eyes.

"Is he going to be okay?" I asked Kade, biting my lip nervously. Blane had said it wasn't bad but it looked like a lot of blood. Guilt and worry ate at me. If only I'd been faster running down the hallway, Blane wouldn't have gotten hit.

"He will be. As soon as I get him to a hospital," Kade said. "You coming?" I shook my head.

"No. I have to be at the airport by seven." Blane's eyes flew open and his gaze narrowed on me.

"Why?" he asked.

"They're going to Chicago tonight," I quickly explained. "I'm working for one of the vice-presidents, Stephen Avery. I'm hoping I'll be able to find the right server on site." Blane and Kade exchanged a meaningful look.

"What?" I asked, watching them communicate silently.

"Grab her," Blane said, and before I could even react, Kade had wrapped an arm around me, pinning my arms to my sides. Pulling me toward the car, he opened the back door.

"What the hell are you doing?" I cried out, furious. "Let me go! Blane! Why are you doing this?" I felt humiliated and betrayed. Kade pulled me in such a way that I couldn't regain my footing and my shoes scrabbled uselessly against the concrete.

"Knock it off, Kathleen," Kade ordered, "I've got to get Blane to the hospital and I don't have time to deal with your tantrum."

"Then go!" I said. "Just leave me alone!"

"Forget it," he said, manhandling me into the back seat. "You have no business going to Chicago. You'll only get yourself killed. And, for some reason that's utterly beyond me, Blane wants you alive."

"Please, Kade," I begged, "I've come this far. They murdered my friend. I can't let them get away with doing that. I have to finish this." Something I said or in the way I said it must have penetrated. He paused in shoving me in the car and I stopped fighting too. Our eyes caught and held.

"Please," I whispered. His lips pressed together.

"What can you do, Kathleen?" he asked. "You're one woman. You can't take them down alone."

I knew it was the truth even as he said it and yet, "I have to try," I said simply. There was a pregnant pause while I held my breath, waiting to see what he'd do. Finally, he slid his eyes to Blane in the front seat. I looked as well and saw Blane had passed out.

"Get him to the hospital, Kade," I said urgently, "forget about me."

"That's probably the smartest thing I've heard you say yet," he muttered grimly, and to my relief, he released me. Kade wasted no time climbing into the driver's seat and driving away. He didn't look back.

Reaching my car in TecSol's lot, I drove home as quickly as I dared. I grabbed a small suitcase and started throwing things in it. It was nearly six and I knew it would take me forty-five minutes or more to get to the airport. My stomach was complaining about the fact that I hadn't really eaten anything since breakfast, but I didn't have time.

Running into the bathroom to grab my curling iron and makeup, I glanced in the mirror. My blouse was stained with Blane's blood. I froze, staring at the reflection. I was having a hard time processing what he had done. Guilt weighed heavily on me. I could only be grateful he hadn't been fatally injured.

Forcing myself into motion again, I took off my blouse and skirt, opting instead for a pair of warm wool slacks and a matching ivory cowl-necked sweater that was soft to the touch. I wasn't a big fan of white since it tended to wash me out, but the ivory shade of this outfit was flattering on me. With no time to redo my hair, I just brushed it out and let it fall over my shoulders. I'd learned my lesson with the heels and found a pair of flats in my closet that matched. I shrugged into the black coat Blane had given me and grabbed my purse and suitcase.

Fifteen minutes after I arrived home, I was back in the car. I had wanted to knock on CJ's door but had resisted the urge. She might try to talk me out of going, and given how afraid I was, it wouldn't take much urging. Pointing my car towards the airport, I tried to breathe and be calm even though it felt like I was jumping from the frying pan into the fire. Kade's words echoed in my head and I tried not to let the overwhelming fear and despair drown me. I would do what I could and the rest was in the hands of Fate, the fickle bitch.

I arrived at the airport with only a few minutes to spare, hurriedly parking my car in the lot for the hangar and wheeling my luggage inside. Remembering my fake name at the last second, I gave it to the man waiting inside, who checked a list and took my luggage.