Sweet Revenge (27 page)

Holding the towel at his bleeding side, Dylan went through the cage doors. He dropped down to the floor and made his way over to Jamie, who’d yet to move.

“Let’s go.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah … fine. I’ve got some bandages in my room.”

She stood and, to his surprise, put her arm around him. “Lean on me.”

A burst of laughter exploded behind him.
Reddington
. Apparently the man believed he was a real-life matchmaker.

“Let’s go before we have unwanted company.”

Since it was after midnight, they made it inside the mansion and to his room without anyone stopping them. They were inside the room, the door closed behind them, when he realized Jamie’s face was wet, as silent tears fell from her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“This is all my fault.”

Dylan shook his head. “If it wasn’t you, it’d be someone else. Reddington wanted his fight. Any woman on the island would be vulnerable to something like this.”

She sniffed delicately and wiped her sleeve against her face. “I can’t wait to leave here.”

“Just a few more hours.”

Pulling gauze, antibacterial spray, and bandages from a small bag he got from the closet, Dylan dropped them onto the bed. Tending his wounds by himself was something he was used to doing, so when Jamie disappeared into the bathroom, he thought little of it. Dabbing the wound on his side with the gauze, he was about to douse it with the antibacterial spray when a soft, warm cloth appeared; Dylan held his breath as Jamie gently cleaned his wound. His heart thudded against his chest … he had the thought that his pulse hadn’t pounded this fast even when he was fighting Bruno. Jamie was the only one who could create this kind of reaction.

In silence, he stood still while she finished cleaning the cut, gritted his teeth as she applied the icy-cool, antibacterial spray, and then held his breath when she used butterfly bandages to close his wound.

She finished, then stepped back with a small, slightly self-conscious smile. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“I have a cut on my thigh.” His hands went to his zipper, and then, feeling almost awkward, he said, “I need to take my pants off.”

Instead of sharing his awkwardness or stepping away from him, Jamie surprised the hell out of him again. “Let me help you.”

Sex should be the last thing on his mind. Hell, he ached all over, was bone tired, and in a couple of hours, he was going to have to steal a boat and escape from a madman and his goons. The hardening flesh between his legs couldn’t care less about those kinds of details. Anytime Jamie was close, it behaved this way.

Hoping the sight of his erection wouldn’t scare her off, Dylan unbuttoned his pants and eased the zipper down over his erection. His best bet was to get the antibacterial spray on his cut as soon as possible. If pain didn’t diminish his arousal, nothing would. Well, one thing would, but that was something he definitely couldn’t do.

As if treating men with gashes in their legs and sporting massive erections was an everyday occurrence, Jamie helped Dylan lower his pants to the floor. So what if he was aroused. That didn’t mean anything. The adrenaline rush from the fight had probably caused it. She’d read somewhere that some men became sexually aroused after a fight or a near-death experience.

“Step out of them and lie down.” Her cheeks heated at what sounded like an invitation. “I’ll go get another wet cloth.” She turned away before she could be caught salivating. Of all the times to fantasize about the sexy, almost naked man lying on the bed waiting for her, now wasn’t one of them.

She returned to see Dylan dabbing at the wound with the gauze. “Is it still bleeding?”

“No. It stopped.” He took the washcloth from her hand and put it over the cut.

Jamie went to her knees beside the bed. Using another cloth she’d dampened, she dabbed gently at his nose. When he flinched, she pulled back slightly. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really. Just a little sore.”

Taking that as a sign that she could proceed, she wiped the blood from his face. He had a gash at the bridge of his nose, but she didn’t think it was broken. He closed his eyes as if what she was doing gave him pleasure. Jamie folded the cloth to find a clean area and then bathed his entire face.

His eyes opened, the green depths swirling with some kind of emotion she couldn’t place. Her gaze locked with his, Jamie held her breath, wanting, needing, but so afraid she’d make a mistake.

A soft sound outside the door caught their attention. Jamie went to her feet, alarmed.

Dylan stood, and though she knew his leg must be hurting, she barely saw him limp as he went to the door. With a sudden wrench of the knob, he jerked the door open.

Mrs. Reddington stood at the entrance, apparently getting ready to knock. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” she whispered. “May I come in?”

Dylan nodded and closed the door behind her. Apparently realizing he was standing almost nude in front of a woman he barely knew, he grabbed a pair pants from the bureau and slid into them.

Mrs. Reddington didn’t seem to notice anyone’s discomfort. She turned to Jamie. “Is he …” She swallowed and made a gesture toward Dylan. “Is he with you?”

Jamie shot a glance at Dylan, waiting for his approval. When he nodded, she looked back at the woman and said, “Yes.”

“You’re leaving tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we are.”

“I thought you might, since you have what you came for.” She withdrew a piece of paper from the pocket of her skirt and held it out to Jamie. “I know you can’t take his physical files without him knowing they’re gone, but when you can take them, you’ll need the combination to his safe. It’s a twelve-number sequence; then you turn the key, once to the left, twice to the right. He keeps the key on his key chain. You have to be careful, though. If you make a mistake and enter the numbers the wrong way or in the wrong sequence, a built-in system will destroy the contents.”

Jamie knew Dylan still had his doubts, so she asked, “How do you know this?”

A small, wry smile broke the solemn sadness of her face. “I’ve lived with Stanford for more than half my life. I’ve gotten good at being invisible. Following him around for years, watching him, is finally paying off.”

Jamie smiled her gratitude. “This will be very helpful.”

“Also, about the boat. I wanted to warn you that it will have only enough petrol to get you to La Rosa. That’s Stanford’s safeguard if anyone tries to leave here. That’s the only place anyone can reach with that amount of fuel. He has friends on the island and can alert them immediately.”

Before Jamie could thank her again, Dylan spoke: “Why are you telling us this?”

Instead of answering him, she turned back to Jamie. “You asked me why I stayed. When he first brought me here, I tried to escape, several times.” Her mouth twisted. “As you can see, I wasn’t successful. I’m the reason he keeps the boat only partially fueled. When I became pregnant, I stayed for a different reason. Stanford knew I wouldn’t put my children in jeopardy.”

“What’s changed?” Jamie asked softly.

“You came.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what he did to you, but instead of accepting it, you came after him. You reminded me that I once had that kind of courage.”

A lump in her throat kept Jamie from responding, so she nodded her head in appreciation and smiled.

“You and your children can come with us.”

Jamie whirled around to stare at Dylan in wonder. Offering to take Reddington’s family upped the risk quotient dramatically. He had nothing to gain by doing this, other than to be the man he was—a hero and a rescuer.

Mrs. Reddington smiled with appreciation. “Thank you, but no. We’ll stay here and ride out the storm.”

She turned to go toward the door, but Jamie called to her, stopping her. “Tell Amelia that she’s a bright, talented girl and is going to have wonderful adventures one day.”

“I will.” She turned back to the door, and Dylan opened it for her. He looked out into the hallway and then back at the older woman. “All clear.”

With the dignity and regal bearing that Jamie had been impressed with at their first meeting, Mrs. Reddington went through the doorway.

Dylan closed the door behind her and looked at Jamie. “Let’s get my leg bandaged and get the hell out of here.”

twenty-four

Their steps were so silent on the walkway that Dylan checked behind just to be sure Jamie was still there. She was so quiet, he couldn’t even hear her breathe. Outfitted in black pants, shirt, and sneakers, she’d also pulled a black skullcap over her head; the only color she presented was her pale, still face. He expected her to look frightened, maybe even excited. Instead, she had that chin cocked at an angle he knew all too well. Determination.

He wanted to tell her he was proud of her for what she had accomplished; he wanted to yell at her for being so damn stubborn as to risk her life. He wanted to—holy hell, he wanted to kiss her deep, hard, and forever.

“You okay?” His voice was barely a shadow of a whisper.

She nodded and gave him a thumbs-up sign.

Dylan turned around and moved down the path that led to the pool house. Jamie had explained how it worked. When Giselle had been taken to the hospital, she had been there and watched. She said that Joseph had opened a small compartment in the wall of the building, pressed a button, and the floor had opened, revealing the speedboat. When he’d pressed another button, the boat had been lifted and then he’d pushed it into the water.

Sounded damn easy. He only hoped there weren’t any hidden alarms attached to alert Reddington that the boat was being taken out. They’d waited until four
A.M
. to leave. With the men getting into bed later than normal because of the fight, Dylan had wanted to make sure they’d be deeply asleep.

The pool house was bathed in darkness, like the rest of the buildings on the island. Reddington wasted no energy on unnecessary lights since no one was supposed to be about this time of night.

If all went as planned, they’d be miles from the island before anyone noticed they were missing. It was frustrating, but he was damn glad to know about the shortage of gas in the boat. Mrs. Reddington had been of monumental assistance in helping bring her husband to justice. He just hoped to hell the man never found out, at least until he was behind bars. Dylan hated to think what he would do to her.

Bringing her and the children along with them would have slowed them down and increased their risks, but he’d had to make the offer. Leaving vulnerable people behind didn’t sit right with him. He hoped she had made the right decision.

A whisper of a sound caught his attention. Dylan stopped abruptly, and Jamie, only a couple of feet behind him, stopped, too. Neither of them breathed as he listened intently. Yes, there it was—a shuffling of some sort. A small animal rooting around for food? Or something more ominous?

Dylan took Jamie’s arm and pulled her down to the ground with him. With his mouth over her ear, he whispered, “You hear it?”

Her skullcap rubbed against his mouth as she nodded.

“Can you tell where it’s coming from?”

She shook her head.

Dylan pulled away and tried to do a 360-degree search around them. Clouds obscured the moon, and the only lights were a spattering of sparkling stars in the northeast corner of the sky. The entire island was in inky darkness. If anyone was wandering around, wouldn’t they, at the very least, have a flashlight?

Since time was running out and he saw nothing, Dylan made the decision to move on. They had to get out of here before the sun started brightening the sky.

Putting his hand on Jamie’s arm, he brought her up with him. Flush against her body, he spoke into her ear again: “I don’t see anyone … probably a small animal foraging for food. I want you plastered to my ass, just in case. Understand?”

She nodded.

Dylan turned and started down the steps again, feeling Jamie’s softness pressed up against him. With his ears alert for any more suspicious sounds, he speeded up his steps. A few feet from the pool house, he stopped and turned. “Stay close to me. As soon as I pull the boat up, you jump in and I’ll follow.”

Dylan strode toward the doorway. Wrapping his hand around the doorknob, he twisted, pleased that it turned easily. Having to pick a lock wouldn’t have delayed them for that long, but every second counted. He eased the door open and then heard a sound that didn’t belong to either of them. He jerked to a stop, and Jamie bumped into him.

“Going somewhere?” Armando’s slurred voice growled from the shadows.

Shit, just what he didn’t need—a jealous psycho who was also, apparently, drunk.

Pulling Jamie behind him, Dylan turned to see the hulking dark shadow swaying in front of him. “Thought I’d take my new lady friend for a boat ride and a swim.”

“Cold to be swimming.”

“We were planning on keeping each other warm, if you know what I mean.”

“You fucked up my life.”

“Hate to tell you, but your life was fucked up long before you met me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we—”

Armando growled and moved closer. The moon made a quick appearance as a cloud moved past, revealing a glint in Armando’s right hand.
Shit, a gun
.

The moonlight disappeared, shrouding everything in darkness again. Dylan could feel Jamie beside him. Knowing Armando couldn’t see them any better than they could see him, Dylan grabbed Jamie’s arm behind him and pushed her into the pool house.

He heard her almost soundless whispered “No” but ignored it. Getting the man closer so he could disarm him was a must. Dylan’s gun had been taken away from him the instant he’d stepped onto the plane with Reddington. The man had assured him that the procedure was routine and that all weapons were taken from everyone.
Yeah, right
.

Dylan moved forward, his hands at his sides. He knew he was quick enough to kick the gun out of Armando’s hand. Problem was, he couldn’t see shit.

“What’s your beef with me, Armando? I thought we were friends.”

“Beef?” The man sounded confused. “I don’t know what a beef is … I only know that you owe me for bringing you to Stanford’s attention, and what do I get in return? A fucking demotion. He wants to make you his right-hand man, instead of me.”

“You can have the job. I was only doing it for the money.”

“The only way for me to get back into his good graces is for you not to be around.”

“Fine, I’ll quit. Whatever. I just want to spend some time alone with the lady. Get my meaning?”

“No, he won’t let you quit. The only way is for you to disappear.”

Dylan refrained from telling the idiot that disappearing was exactly what he was trying to do.

“I’ll have to make sure they won’t find your body.”

Shit
.

Dylan was tired of trying to reason with the man. They had to get out of here or they were going to have to scrap their plans and wait for another day. Damned if this creep would delay them any longer. He glanced up at the sky. The clouds were moving again, and the moon would soon make another brief appearance. He had to be ready.

Just as the darkness began to lighten, an instant before Dylan lunged, he saw a movement barely a foot away from Armando. Everything within him went still.
Jamie
.

She had gone through the pool house and come out another door. If Armando turned around and saw her, he’d shoot her at point-blank range and she could be dead in an instant.

Dylan was on his toes, ready to spring forward and take the man down, when Jamie did something totally unexpected. She stooped behind the man and grabbed his leg.

Startled, Armando looked behind him, which gave Dylan the opportunity he needed. He leaped, knocking the gun out of the man’s hand. Armando fell backward, and, as if she had been doing this all her life, Jamie dropped to her knees and bowed her head. Armando fell over her and landed on the other side.

Dylan was on the prostrate man in a flash. Though he looked close to passing out already, Dylan couldn’t take the chance that he’d make it back to the mansion and warn the others. He slammed his fist into Armando’s jaw. The drunken man huffed out a gasp of pain and closed his eyes into unconsciousness.

Getting to his feet, Dylan glanced around for the gun and found Jamie standing behind him, holding it in her hand. The moonlight bright on her face, her eyes gleamed with excitement as she said, “We make a good team.”

Once again, he fought the urge to shake her and kiss her at the same time. Refusing to get into an argument about following orders, he looked back down at Armando. “We need to find something to tie him up with, to keep him out of the way for a few hours.”

She nodded and ran back to the pool house. “There’s some rope on the wall.”

Dylan grabbed Armando’s feet and pulled him through the door. While he secured the man, Jamie opened the panel she’d described and pressed a button. The floor beside him shifted. He finished his task and stood, watching as the floor divided and a black speedboat appeared.

With Armando’s bound feet in his hands, he dragged him inside a small storage room and shut the door. Once it was discovered he was missing, the search would be on. Armando’s yelling would bring him rescue as soon as he was heard.

He turned to see Jamie stepping down into the boat. Dylan untied the line and pushed the boat backward, into the water. The instant the boat was floating, he jumped in, landing beside her.

Though they needed to get away as soon as possible, he was leery of starting the engine so close to land. Reddington’s men might not be able to chase them in the yacht, but bullets would have no problem reaching them.

He grabbed emergency oars, handed one to Jamie, and they began to paddle from the shore. It would take longer than he’d like, but if anyone heard the motor, shots would be fired before questions were asked. When, at last, they’d gotten a couple of hundred yards from the island, deeming the distance safe enough, Dylan cranked the engine and putted farther out. A full ten minutes later, he gunned the engine and they were off.

Anger burned through him like a furnace. Glaring down at a barely conscious Armando, Stanford didn’t know if he’d ever been this furious in his life. The urge to alleviate his anger by splitting the weasel’s neck and severing his head from his body was great. If it would make the situation any better, he wouldn’t hesitate.

He’d risen at dawn; anticipation strumming through him had kept him from his sleep. A new project always affected him like this. The eagerness to get started pumping excitement through his blood would keep him going for hours without needing rest.

He had just taken in his first mouthful of coffee for the day when Joseph had pounded on his door, startling him so much that he’d spewed coffee everywhere. Sarah was standing behind him at the time, and if he didn’t know her better, he could have sworn she snickered. Before answering the knock, he’d glanced at her, but she’d looked serene and lovely as always.

The news that Armando had been found tied up and barely conscious in the pool house had been shocking; learning that Wheeler and the Jennings bitch had stolen his boat and left the island had trumped everything. Why the hell had they done it?

“I’m sure they’ll be back,” Armando mumbled. “He said he just wanted to take her for a little ride … be alone with her.”

He ignored the man. The stench of alcohol permeated the air around him. Whatever Armando said meant nothing. Bottom line: Wheeler and the woman were gone. Armando knew that there were no excuses for allowing such an event and that punishment would be forthcoming.

Stanford stood on the pier, looked out into the vast ocean, and tried to comprehend why Wheeler would risk his fury. Had he fallen so hard for the teacher that they’d decided to run away together? A romantic at heart, Stanford knew that this was possible. Hadn’t he fallen for Sarah that quickly? The moment he’d seen her, he had known she had to be his. But no, that didn’t happen often, and John Wheeler didn’t have that type of personality.

Which meant they’d left the island with no intention of returning. But why? In the back of his mind, he had a niggling suspicion, but he refused to give it credence. There was no way these people had hoodwinked him. No way Wheeler could have infiltrated his tight-knit organization. And it was laughable to even consider that the dowdy Karen Jennings had come to the island for any other reason than to teach his daughter.

Whatever their reasons, they would be captured soon. For years, he’d had an agreement with several of the employees at the La Rosa marinas. Unless notified beforehand, by either him or Joseph, that someone was coming to La Rosa, the men were to take immediate action if his boat was spotted.

Wheeler and the Jennings woman would be bloody when they returned to the island, but that was fine with him. Once he got an explanation for their departure, he’d give the bitch two options: continue to teach his daughter or die. It made no difference to him.

He’d spare Wheeler’s life for as long as the man fulfilled the promise he had made. He’d gone to a lot of bother for Lance to come here for training. He refused to be denied.

Armando said they’d left just before dawn. Any minute now, his two wayward employees would be receiving an unexpected greeting from his friends on La Rosa.

Jamie sat on the bench seat of the boat, behind Dylan. Arms crossed over her body, she clenched her teeth to keep them from rattling. Though the night was chilly and the wind cut through her clothing, the cold wasn’t making her shake. Adrenaline from their escape had overloaded her bloodstream.

She inhaled slowly, evenly, hoping to calm her breathing and the surge of nervous energy rushing through her body. It was over. Thank you, God, it was over. Now all they had to do was get on dry land and call Noah. With the information they had, Stanford Reddington might be in jail by this weekend.

And then what? She had been working toward this goal for so long, she honestly couldn’t answer that question. A quiet, calm vacation in the West Virginia mountains sounded like heaven. Autumn would be coming soon, and the leaves in that area of the country were said to be spectacular. Going alone would be calming but so very lonely.

An ache developed in her chest as she gazed longingly at the man in the driver’s seat of the boat. There was only one person she wanted to be with, but she didn’t know if that would ever be possible.