Untamed (A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance) (103 page)

“Left,” I say to Duncan, my voice an urgent whisper. I listen to Pierce on the phone. “Then right at Fitzroy Street. Blow through the lights, he says traffic is slow there and it’s not a patrol route.”

Duncan obeys, takes the left. We come to a set of lights, he accelerates, pushes us through the intersection onto the far left. We cut across traffic, but it’s slow enough for Duncan to weave us neatly through.

“We’re going to Geelong,” she says. “That’s a city north-west of Melbourne, a bit of a drive, but he says if we take the back roads we can lose our tail. It’ll take longer, though.”

“Okay,” Duncan says, his voice a rumble. “But this shitty car is not going to outrun that one.”

I turn around, see the Mercedes right on us.
Damn it
.

“What do we do?” I ask him.

“How many people in the car?”

I turn around again. “I think it’s just one. I can’t really see.”

He reaches behind him, pulls out the gun.

“What?” I cry. “No! We’re not going to fucking shoot him! We don’t even know who he is.”

Duncan just emits a low growl. He jerks the car over, pulls us into a multi-story parking garage. We take the u-turns hard, and I’m thrown against the side.

“Careful,” I shout, holding onto my belly. “The baby, Duncan!”

He stops the car, looks over at me. “Get out, run, hide somewhere. I’ll get him.”

I exit the vehicle, run as fast as my feet will take me down the parking lot, sticking to the shadows.

I hear the roar of the Mercedes’ engine, and I duck down behind a parked truck, look through the windows to where Duncan is.

The parking garage is mostly empty, and there are only a few cars dotted about, occupying spaces.

Duncan is still parked, and I can see his silhouette sitting in the car. The Mercedes stops behind him, perpendicular to his car so he can’t reverse out, and stays put with the engine chugging.

What the fuck is he doing?

I hear a door open, and from the Mercedes a huge man steps out. He’s easily taller than Duncan, wide as a mountain, and the suit jacket he’s wearing can’t be closed around his barrel-chest.

Another car door opens, Duncan steps out, gun drawn.

“Uh-uh, big guy,” he says. His voice echoes down to me. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”

The big man doesn’t move. I look around wildly, see nobody else, and then come out from my hiding spot, start walking toward Duncan. A crack of thunder jolts me, and outside I hear it begin to rain.

“Who are you?” Duncan asks.

The man doesn’t respond.

“Why are you following us? Who sent you?”

I approach Duncan, and he guides me behind him. He’s gripping the gun tight, and his finger is on the trigger.

“Duncan,” I say, touching his shoulder. He’s angry, I know he is, but he can’t squeeze that trigger by accident.

I don’t even know if he can squeeze the trigger at all. We can’t become fugitives here!

The sound of tires turning pulls all our eyes toward the entrance ramp to this floor. The front end of a limousine appears, makes the tight turn. Duncan puts his gun down by his side, glares at the huge man.

We all wait for the limousine to slowly roll by around the corner, before Duncan raises the gun again.

“Is Johnny Marino here?” he asks. “Did he send you?”

The big man still doesn’t speak, but he’s starting to look uncomfortable. His hand veers toward his waist, but Duncan steps forward, shouts, “Don’t!”

The big man stops his hand.

“Do you understand me?” Duncan asks. “Can you understand me?”

Finally, the big man gives us a response: He nods his head.

“Is Johnny Marino here in Melbourne?” Duncan barks, stepping forward again, pushing the gun out farther.

“Maybe he can’t speak English,” I say to Duncan. “Or maybe he can’t say. Maybe Dad’s holding something over him.” He looks, to me anyway, like he’s stuck. “He could be afraid.”

“Afraid?” Duncan spits. “I’ve got a fucking gun pointed at him, Dee.”

“You!” I call to the man, get his attention. “Is my father forcing you to do this?”

His expression changes for an instant, and his brows furrow quickly before flattening out.

“He didn’t tell you I was his daughter? He’s trying to take my baby.” I pat my stomach. “He wants to steal my baby.”

Now the big man speaks. I can barely understand him through his thick accent – he’s from somewhere in Eastern Europe. He says, “I have family.”

I turn to Duncan, meet his eyes for a moment, realization like a wind blowing away a fog of confusion.

“He’s got your family, doesn’t he?” I ask him. “He’s holding them hostage somehow.”

The man doesn’t respond.

“What is it? Money? Do you owe him? Are you doing this because my father threatened your family?”

He doesn’t move an inch, but his eyes flick to me for an instant.

“I’m trying to protect
my
family,” I say. “My baby.”

I hear the sound of a car engine, turn around. Down the empty parking space behind me, I see the same limousine, headlights off.

“Duncan,” I whisper as it dawns on me. Why the hell didn’t I look twice at a fucking
limousine
? It’s totally Dad’s style.

“What?”

I try to tell him, but a big hand wraps around my mouth, jerks me back. The limousine screeches forward.

Duncan turns, sees it, jumps out of the way but the front bumper catches his legs, sends him spinning head-over-foot in the air, and he lands with a sickening thud against a concrete pillar, before falling down toward the floor.

I struggle against my captor, throw an elbow behind me, hear a grunt, feel a heavy body. But the hand doesn’t leave my mouth, and he wraps an arm above my belly, lifts me up off the ground.

I slap at his hand, horrified that he’s hurting the baby. Teeth clamped around his finger, I bite down hard, taste bitter metal, and then his hand is free of me, and I scream, “Not so hard! I’m pregnant!”

The man drops me, I turn around and see Frank.

“Frank, you asshole!” I shout, trying to slap him, but he grabs my wrist, spins me around so that my arm is wrapped around my front, and then pulls me back toward him. He grips onto my hair, and when I open my mouth to scream he shoves something inside it, a cloth.

I try to breathe, but in my panicked state barely can.

“Calm down, honey,” he says into my ear. “Breathe through your nose, and stop struggling. Don’t hurt yourself. Don’t hurt your baby.”

You fucking asshole!

The limousine door opens, the driver’s door, and I see a bald dome. Dad steps out, looks angrily at the huge man who gets back into his car.

Those angry eyes swivel straight to me, and he shakes his head as he approaches me.

“You thought you could get away from me?” he asks, slapping his chest. He tilts his head to the side. “You’re family, Deidre. Family don’t abandon family. I would have hunted you down to the end of the Earth.”

Hunted
.

I throw a heel at his shin, but he just steps backward, deceptively light on his feet. His old instincts never vanished.

He touches my face, and I try to recoil, retreat from his hands, but I can’t.

“I’ve missed you, Deidre. My own daughter ran away from me.” He shakes his head. “I’ve obviously done a bad job raising you.”

You’re damn right you have!

“You never did understand,” he says, now turning around and walking toward Duncan.

My eyes go to his body, limp on the floor, chest rising and falling quickly.

“Good, you’re still alive,” Dad says. “I’ve got something special planned for you. Put her in the car, Frank.”

I try to push back against the huge bulk urging me forward, but I can’t. A hand shoves my head down, forces me into the back of the limousine.

“Take her to the school,” Dad shouts.

Frank gets in the limousine, starts the engine, takes us carefully around the u-turns down the exit ramps until we reach the ground floor.

Pellets of rain pelt the windows as he drives us into the night.

The last image I have of Duncan is Dad leaning over his body, grinning, his gold teeth flashing.

Chapter Forty Two