Sweet Revenge (9 page)

Dylan turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Whether he liked the job or not, he had to do it. If Jamie was withholding valuable information, it was irresponsible and selfish of her. And since she’d made it clear yesterday that her plans hadn’t changed, it could also get her killed.

The thought of something happening to her was enough to shut out those whispers from his conscience. He refused to question why he had such a strong need to protect her. No use denying something he had known from the moment he’d carried her out of that house. Jamie was special, and he’d do anything he had to, including lying and abusing her trust, to protect her.

He tugged on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and, with barely a glance at the mirror for his still wet, tousled hair, headed to the kitchen. Spending any more time on his dread and regrets would get him nowhere. Now he had to concentrate on feeding Jamie the line of bullshit she would need to hear to trust him with her secrets.

For the first time in a long time, Dylan wondered if he wasn’t more like his trashy, low-life family than he wanted to admit.

six

Breathless but triumphant, Jamie stood in front of the mirror and watched herself go through the motions Dylan had shown her yesterday. Though not as smooth and graceful as she wanted it to be, nonetheless, the sequence looked so much better than yesterday’s effort.

“Lower your right arm a little.”

She jerked around to find Dylan standing only a few feet from her. Dammit, the man
did
move like a cat.

“How long have you been watching?”

“Not long. Your movements are better, more certain.”

A compliment from Dylan? A glow glimmered through her body.

“Come eat breakfast and then we’ll work on another move you can combine with that one.”

Almost afraid that there was a trick involved, Jamie eyed him suspiciously as she went up the stairs. She was used to Dylan being surly, condescending, and occasionally hateful. And though his attitude might not be called nice by most people’s standards, considering his previous behavior, for Dylan, this was downright friendly.

Jamie washed up and headed to the kitchen, from which delicious fragrances were emanating. Her stomach rumbled as she sat at the table and admired the mini feast he’d prepared. Scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits, and orange juice.

“Looks delicious.”

“Figured you’d be hungry. Working out before breakfast always increases my appetite.”

Jamie knew she was gawking and did nothing to hide it. “Okay, what’s going on?”

She caught him with his mouth open to take a bite of biscuit; he shoved half the biscuit into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and said, “What?”

“You haven’t been this nice to me since you rescued me.”

Though his face was in its usual shutdown mode, his mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Figured we’d get a lot more accomplished if I stopped being an ass.”

She didn’t bother to point out that behaving this way from the beginning would have been helpful. She was just grateful for the change of heart.

Digging into her breakfast, Jamie continued to be surprised as Dylan continued to talk.

“The weather’s supposed to warm up by the end of the week. We should be able to use one of the obstacle courses.”

Jamie gulped, her appetite suddenly diminished. When she’d first arrived, he’d showed her those courses. As much as she wanted to meet all the challenges he put before her, she couldn’t deny the dread. Climbing over walls, crawling through tunnels, swinging on ropes—those things were completely out of her realm of understanding and knowledge.

“Don’t look so worried. I won’t time your first couple of tries.”

Had he thought that information would reassure her? The dread only increased. Of course timing would be involved. From what she could tell, there was little in her training that didn’t include doing it either as fast or as quietly as possible.

She took a breath and lifted her chin. Fear wasn’t going to stop her. “I look forward to the challenge.”

Though that damn eyebrow he was so fond of raising shot up, he didn’t comment on what sounded, even to her own ears, like thin bravado.

Moving her attention back to her meal, Jamie took several more bites. The silence wasn’t the one she’d gotten used to over the last couple of weeks. This was the kind of silence that was bound to be broken. And once again, Dylan didn’t disappoint.

“What do you know about Reddington you’re not telling us?”

The question so surprised her, she swallowed a bite of biscuit too soon. Grabbing her orange juice before she choked, she drank half the glass to unclog her throat and then shook her head. “I’ve told Noah everything I know about his operation.”

“Everything?”

She’d never realized how penetrating a green-eyed stare could be. Didn’t matter. She had told the truth. All the information she’d gleaned about Reddington and his horrific slave trading had been given to Noah McCall the day after her rescue.

“Tell me again, then.”

“What?”

“Humor me … tell me again.”

Her lips trembled with the need to say something sarcastic. But this was the most Dylan had talked with her since she’d been here. Creating goodwill by reviewing what she’d learned wasn’t a big deal. She was hiding nothing useful about Reddington. At least, nothing useful for LCR.

“The first time I heard him, he was discussing a business transaction about a young woman he’d purchased in Seville. He said he wanted her included on the next market day.”

“And how was it that you heard this?”

Jamie forced herself to view her memories objectively. Those dark days had been some of the scariest and most humiliating of her life. If she didn’t allow herself to get drawn into the emotions, it was much easier to recall what she’d heard.

“As you know … since you were the one to find me … I was locked in a room on the third floor. I was handcuffed to the bed most of the time, but when my meals were delivered, I was free to eat, go to the bathroom … whatever. Sometimes hours would go by before they’d remember to come back and lock the cuffs. They weren’t really afraid that I’d try to escape. The only way out was through the door, which was always locked, or through the window. Since I was about thirty feet from the ground, I’m sure they figured I wouldn’t jump.”

Little had they known that’d she’d contemplated that very thing. The jump would have killed her, but at her lowest point, she had been desperate. But then blessed anger had returned and, with it, the determination that the bastards would not win. If she had jumped out that window, no one would have blinked an eye. She would probably have been thrown into a hole in the woods, and that would have been that.

Realizing she had gone where she had promised herself she wouldn’t, Jamie took a breath and made herself continue: “One day when I was free and looking for a way out, I found a heating vent on the floor. I managed to pry it open. There was no way I could escape through it, but I could hear voices. That’s when I realized my room was right above Reddington’s office. I heard numerous phone conversations—all one-sided—but he had no regard for what he said. He conducted a lot of business in that office.”

“And that’s how you learned that he’s into slave trading and human trafficking?”

“Yes.”

“Did he ever suspect that you knew anything?”

“No. I only saw him a couple of times, and that was in the beginning.”

“Did he say names, locations, dates?”

“No names, other than a man’s name—Armando—who I think works for him. He was very open in his conversations with both his son and Armando. The people he sold were discussed as if they were cattle. Sometimes he’d refer to them by number or hair color. I remember he referred to one as ‘the old hag.’ ”

Dylan nodded. “That’s consistent with what McCall’s sources uncovered. He’s not just into slave trading for sex. He sells humans for every possible market out there for human beings.”

“I heard him say something about a promising young man he had his eyes on. That was the only time I heard Reddington and his son argue.”

“What did they argue about?”

“About this promising young man. His father said he thought the young man had potential. The son was resistant.”

“You tell McCall about this?”

“Of course.”

“What else did you hear?”

“Market day is every other Tuesday. He told his son Lance how …” Her breakfast lurched up her throat. How could she have forgotten the one conversation that’d made her throw up the small amount of food she’d ingested the day she’d heard it?

“What?”

Though his eyes were as hard as ever, Dylan’s voice had softened noticeably. He knew how hard this was for her. That one kindness helped her to say, “He said that one of the ways Lance could become a prime judge of …” She grimaced. “Sorry, I won’t repeat the word he used.”

“You don’t have to. Just give me the gist.”

“Reddington said that once Lance had experimented with me in all the ways he could, he’d have a good idea what to look for.”

“That didn’t happen, though.”

Dylan’s words were a statement of fact. And something for which she was exceedingly grateful. No one, other than her therapist, knew what had happened. Having anyone else know the truth would benefit no one.

She acknowledged his statement with a slight nod, saying, “Thanks to you.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

Jamie nodded hesitantly—the fact that he’d asked permission worrisome. She had thought the questions he’d already asked were personal and could have sworn that not by the slightest flicker had she revealed that she wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“You’ve recovered incredibly well in a short period of time. How did you do that?”

She knew he didn’t mean physically. The bruises and surface injuries she’d received at the hands of Damon Hughes had healed within a couple of weeks of his attack. No, she knew he meant,
How did you recover from the terror and fear that accompany a brutal assault?

“I don’t think I have an easy answer to that. I thank God every day that I can’t remember Hughes’s attack. The doctors called it selective amnesia. Said I might never remember anything about it, which is exactly what I want. I remember being held in his house and how terrified I was, but the actual attack is a complete blank.” She shrugged and added, “And maybe the fact that he’s dead helped in some way.”

“Thanks to Lucas Kane.”

She smiled and nodded. “Thanks to Lucas.”

“But your experiences with Reddington. You remember all of that?”

“Yes, those memories are, unfortunately, all intact. After I was rescued, I had nightmares for the first few weeks … still do occasionally.”

“As anyone would.”

She could explain it away by saying that concentrating on going after Reddington had helped, but that was only partially true. Jamie knew there were extenuating circumstances that had helped her heal faster than she might have.

“After my rescue, I had two options: be bitter and full of fear or realize what I’d been given. My sister, the one person I’d thought I’d never see again, was returned to me. And not only that, I got to see what a remarkable person she is. McKenna went through so much more than I did, but instead of allowing it to destroy her, she used her pain as an impetus to help others.

“Having McKenna to talk with was a blessing. She knew exactly what I was feeling. Then, when I went through counseling, getting everything out in the open—all of my pain, fear, anger, resentment—was a tremendous help.” She shrugged helplessly, realizing she’d basically been rambling. “Does any of that make sense?”

He gave a quick nod in acknowledgment of her question and, as if she hadn’t just bared her soul, continued his interrogation: “What else did you hear while you were there?”

She blew out a sigh, suddenly exhausted. “He talked to his wife on a daily basis. Actually seems to be a very devoted family man. Once I heard him defending his son … saying that she shouldn’t worry … that Lance was a perfectly normal young man.” Something Jamie knew wasn’t true.

“And he gave no indication of where his family lived?”

“No. I never heard him discuss any kind of location. All I remember is that once I heard him talking to Armando. I think a customer wanted some information about one of their purchases. Reddington said that the man would have to wait until he went to his family’s home to get that information, since that’s where all his sales records were kept.”

His stare was harder and more direct than she’d ever seen it. She knew what he was trying to do. He thought she was hiding valuable information. She wasn’t … not really. The only information she hadn’t shared wouldn’t be helpful to LCR at all. The organization could do nothing with it. For Jamie, it was the most important piece of knowledge she had on Reddington. Information that was not only going to get her into the man’s private life but give her access to his secrets.

When Jamie was through with him, Stanford Reddington would never see freedom again. She’d love to have that punishment extended to his perverted excuse for a son, but when she’d decided upon this course of action, she had known that might not be possible. However, she would take what she could get, and that would have to be enough.

Either Jamie was getting better at lying or she really didn’t have more information to share.

Dylan stood on the porch, waiting. Jamie was changing into warmer clothes so they could go over the obstacle course once more before she tried it out tomorrow.

Her answers to his blunt questions had been clear-cut and direct. He’d seen no deception or hesitancy. Could McCall be wrong? No, he didn’t think so. Jamie might not be withholding vital information, but it was clear she thought she had a way inside to Reddington. That was the information she was hiding. And that was the information he needed to get. It might not help them get to Reddington, but knowing her plan would give him an opportunity to make her realize how dangerous and ridiculous it would be for her to try to infiltrate the man’s organization.

Learning to kick the shit out of someone did not qualify a person to go undercover.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Dylan turned and had to work like hell to keep from smiling. Covered from head to foot, she looked like she’d barely be able to breathe, much less move. The only visible parts of her body were her eyes and the tip of her nose. Everything else was covered in layers.

“We’re not in subzero temps, you know.”

“Yesterday I almost froze, and I was only outside for a few minutes. I figured if we’re going to be walking a distance, I needed to stay warm.”

“Warm, yes. Smothered, no.”

Before she could respond, Dylan reached out and began to unwrap the scarf around her head and neck. As he worked to uncover her, an unexpected surge of arousal hit him hard. The thought of being able to fully undress her and reveal all the delicacy and beauty beneath the clothes caused an unwelcome reaction. He had done so well for the first two weeks by not talking to her or being close to her. Yesterday had broken that routine. Problem was, he could do nothing about it. He wanted her … he couldn’t have her. There was no leeway, no solution.