Run to Me (13 page)

Ethan ground his teeth as every ounce of his willpower was tested. Everything within him wanted to pull her to him, wrap his arms around her, and ignite the fire that had so often come close to consuming them. That look of furious passion was such a Shea look.

Rigid determination kept his feet rooted to the floor. “You’ve got someone out there who wants to either abduct you or kill you. That’s why.”

“So I’m just supposed to stay here forever?”

“No, just until we can get Rosemount.”

“What if you never get him? Am I going to be held prisoner forever?”

“You’re not a prisoner.”

She twisted around to stare out the window.

“I’ll get him, Shea. I promise.”

She whirled around, her eyes wide with something like fear. Was she worried for him? “Why you?”

“Because I can get the job done.”

“Others can’t?”

“Not to my specifications.”

“You want to kill him.”

“Yes … and I will.” Ethan turned and stalked out of the room, the need to hold her an increasing compulsion. She looked so lost and dispirited. Her confinement had only just started and it was already wearing on her. Shea’s independent nature was quickly making itself known. It was one of the many facets of her personality he’d always admired.

He forced another regret away. Until Rosemount was caught, this was the safest place for her. No one could find her here.

The two young men lay clumped together on the floorboard of the taxi. They had been easy to handle. Inebriated and unstable, neither was able to put up any kind of fight. When they’d staggered out of the bar toward the waiting cab, singing an off-key duet, he’d come up behind them, grabbed them by their necks, and knocked their heads together. The taxi door had been open, and he’d tossed them inside. The entire deed had taken less than a minute.

The master would be pleased.

A slight movement, then a moan, came from one of them. He pressed fingers against the man’s neck. Not too hard. The master didn’t want these men damaged. Just taken and then released. He had performed this particular function many times.

The car door opened. Henry, the master’s employee said, “We’re at the warehouse. I’ll help you carry them in, then I’ll hide the car.”

Grabbing one of the men under his armpits, he hauled him up and threw him over his shoulder. Henry followed, dragging the other man.

“Be sure to keep your head down,” Henry said.

He knew to do this, but it was something he was always reminded about. Keeping his face hidden was a priority to the master. His enemies would torture him if he was ever captured. He didn’t know who his enemies were or why they would want to hurt him, but he understood the pain from torture. From time to time, the master tortured him, but only to reinforce a lesson or to make an important point. That was his right. The people who sought to capture and torture him for their pleasure he wanted to avoid at all cost.

He lowered the young man to the concrete warehouse floor. Henry dropped the other man next to his friend.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” Henry said.

He stood next to the unconscious bodies. They didn’t move, but he wouldn’t take his eyes from them. This was his one and only purpose, and the master depended on him to carry out his orders exactly as he commanded.

A gasping, breathless Henry ran into the building. “We gotta get out of here.”

“But the master said—”

“All that’s changed. We’ve been found. The master said we have to leave.”

His pulse pounded as uncertainty hammered. “The master says it’s okay?”

“Yes. He said your enemies have found you. They’ll capture and punish you.”

That sounded like the master, always looking out for him. Without a backward glance at the men on the floor, he ran out of the warehouse, behind Henry. The taxi, within a few yards, was a welcome sight.

The whirl of helicopter rotors sounded overhead. He looked up at the sky to see bright, flashing lights from a low-flying helicopter.

“Keep going!” Henry yelled.

He dashed toward the taxi and threw himself in the passenger side. Henry jumped in the driver’s side and took off. Gravel spun from the vehicle’s wheels. Dust, created by the helicopter, blew around them, turning the dark night to pitch-black nothingness.

As they zoomed down the road, he looked back to see if the helicopter followed them.

“Keep your head down!”

Though Henry wasn’t the master, he knew the words were from the master. Turning back around, he bent forward till his face touched his knees.

Henry’s cellphone rang. “Damn, I’ve got to get off this road. I can’t talk on the phone and drive, too. You’ll have to talk to him.” Henry threw the phone at him. With his head down, it thudded to the floorboard.

Uncertainty grabbed him again. Talking on a cellphone was a foreign and unusual activity. He picked up the phone, held it to his ear. “Master?”

“Yes, it’s me. What’s going on?”

“We’re being chased by a helicopter.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“No. I kept my head down.”

“Good. Tell Henry if anyone sees your face, he is to shoot you in the head and throw your body in the woods. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Tell him to call me as soon as he ditches the tail. Understand?”

“Yes.”

He waited for several seconds for the master’s next command. The master blew out a long sigh. “Close the phone.”

He closed the phone and twisted his head to look up at Henry. “The master says that if anyone sees my face, you are to shoot me in the head and throw my body in the woods. And you are to call him as soon as you ditch the tail.”

“You poor stupid idiot. You’d stand there and let me shoot you, wouldn’t you?”

He didn’t understand Henry’s words or the compassion that flashed in the man’s eyes. He understood only one thing. “I have to obey the master.”

Henry shook his head and glanced in the rearview mirror. “Looks like the chopper went back. Let’s go home.”

Home. Yes, that sounded like a good plan. And the people chasing them had not seen him, so Henry wouldn’t have to shoot him in the head. The master would be pleased.

Donald stood at his desk, unable to sit … his fury so immense, he could barely speak. “You failed me.”

Though the connection was filled with static, he heard the cocky young man blow out an exaggerated puff of air. “Hey, man, I told you about the kids. Gave you the information to make the grab. I did my job. Your people screwed up, not me.”

“My people were almost captured. There were helicopters and cars swarming only minutes after my men arrived. How did that happen?”

The man’s condescending chuckle had Donald envisioning cramming the phone down the bastard’s throat. No one laughed at Donald Rosemount and lived to talk about it.

“Like I said, man, your people screwed up. All I was supposed to do was supply you with the names and location. Maybe the kids have some sort of GPS tracking system on them or something. I can’t be responsible for what happens after I deliver the information.”

“How did LCR know about the operation, if not from you?”

“They’ve got eyes and ears everywhere. Like I said, bro, your people fucked it up … not me. I did my job.”

He was being played. Donald had known all along that this brazen young man would pit him against LCR, and that once someone came out on top, that’s where his questionable loyalties would lie. The lack of morals and character in the man worked to Donald’s advantage, so he couldn’t really be too angry. After all, the man had provided what he sought most. Plans were well under way to retrieve his little cat.

A long, impatient sigh came through the phone line, as if this man had more important things to do than talk with Donald Rosemount. The sound solidified Donald’s decision. Once he had his kitten back and LCR was destroyed, this arrogant young prick would pay a high price for his greed and insolence. Until then, Donald would play along.

Though his entire body ached with the effort to speak the words, he said, “You may be right.” He could envision the young man’s smug smile at his admission.

“By the way, you haven’t delivered the payment for the other job. I gave you the location of the woman, didn’t I?”

The phone tightened in Donald’s hand. The blatant disrespect for his power and wealth was almost intolerable. “Your payment will be deposited tonight. If, however, the information you provided doesn’t secure her, you’ll be expected to make other arrangements.”

“Hey man, that wasn’t our agreement.”

“You’re the one who contacted me. Don’t you dare try to back out now. Either provide what I ask for, when I ask for it, or our relationship will end.”

The silence on the other end told Donald he’d scored a powerful point. Satisfaction lifted his mouth in a grin. Two could play this game. No one outwitted Donald Rosemount.

As expected, the man immediately began to backtrack. “Wait a minute, I didn’t say I wouldn’t. I just—”

“Good. After the woman is secured, we’ll discuss future projects.” Content that he’d made his position clear, Donald hung up the phone. Outmanipulate a master manipulator? He didn’t think so.

Ethan raced down the hallway. He’d been headed to Shea’s room to see if she would have dinner with him in the dining room. Not the restaurant she wanted, but it was better than the four walls of her room. The screams echoing through the hallways told him something dire had happened. Another nightmare?

He shoved the door open. The scene facing him would have been comical if it wasn’t so sad. Shea stood on a small table in the corner of the room. Jolene, one of the clinic’s volunteers, was in the opposite corner, drenched with some kind of liquid. It was hard to tell which woman was screaming louder.

Ethan stepped in front of Jolene and barked, “What the hell happened?”

Her eyes still on Shea, the woman continued her screams.

“Jolene, shut up and tell me what happened.”

Jolene’s screams stopped abruptly. Milk drops flew in a white spray at the rapid shake of her head. “I just came in to give Miss Monroe her meal. When I handed her a straw for her milk, she picked up the glass, threw it at me, and started screaming.”

“And you thought it would help to scream back?”

Her eyes flashed. “She scared me.”

“Of all the stupid—”

“Jolene, why don’t you go on back to your station?” Dr. Norton’s calm voice interrupted Ethan’s scathing words.

Wiping her face with her sleeve, Jolene scooted toward the door. “I’m sorry, she just scared me.”

More concerned with Shea than Jolene’s milk-drenched face, Ethan turned to her and his heart wrenched. She was now crouched on the table. Wild fear gleamed in her eyes as her breath came in desperate gasps and tiny sobs. Reaching out a tentative hand, he touched her knee. “Shea, come down from there. You’re fine.”

A deep breath shuddered through her as she collected herself. Then green eyes glared, as if she despised him. “Get out.”

“Not until you come down and tell me what set you off.”

“She tried to inject me with something. You said I was safe. That he couldn’t get me here.”

“She tried to give you dinner, nothing more,” Ethan said.

She shook her head. “No, I saw her … she had a needle … she pulled it out of her pocket.”

Dr. Norton stayed a nonthreatening distance away and spoke soothingly, “She had straws in her pocket. She was handing you a straw for your milk.”

Another emphatic head shake. “No, I saw her … she …” Covering her face with her hands, she shuddered. “At least I think it was a needle.”

Ethan held out his hand again. “Come down here. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Ignoring his hand, she stepped from the table to the floor. Her face averted, she darted around him and headed to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from you. This may be my prison, but I can and will lock my bathroom door for privacy.”

“I can knock a bathroom door down just as well as any other door.”

Eyes flashing, she snarled, “Try it and see just how far you get.”

“Don’t push me, babe.”

“Children,” Dr. Norton chided, “while this is vastly entertaining, it’s not getting us anywhere.” He pointed to a chair. “Shea, unless you’re in dire need of the bathroom, would you humor me a moment and have a seat? I need to know why you think Jolene was trying to harm you.”

Furious eyes raked over Ethan. “Only if he leaves.”

“Come over here and make me.”

“Ethan, either stop your childish taunts or get out,” Dr. Norton said.

Ethan knew a quick moment of shame. The doctor was right. Sparring with Shea was getting them nowhere. Though seeing her eyes flashing brought back some good memories, he needed to remember that her anger was caused by fear, not temper.

“I’m sorry, Shea. If I promise to behave, can I stay?”

When she didn’t answer, he assumed her answer was no. As she seated herself in a chair, Ethan headed toward the door.

“Stay.” She softened her tone. “Please, stay.”

Nodding, Ethan leaned against the wall and watched as Dr. Norton questioned her.

“When Jolene came in, what did she say?”

“Nothing. She just put the food down and took something out of her pocket.” Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “It was long and white … it looked like a needle.”

“Have you had any more flashbacks like that?”

She jerked, obviously startled at the news. “You think it was a flashback?”

Dr. Norton lifted a shoulder. “You were injected with a drug daily. And you indicated that it was usually at the end of the day, before your evening meal. Most likely, seeing the straw triggered a memory. Have you had any other feelings as though someone was going to hurt you?”

“I thought someone was in my room early this morning. I woke up … saw a flash of something going out the door. I got up and looked out. No one was there.”

“What time was this?” Ethan asked.

“Around five or so.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit this, he couldn’t have Shea thinking people were entering her room to harm her. “It was me.”