Yield to Me (13 page)

His chuckle was sarcastic and the
next thing Sophie knew he was pulling her out of the closet. He tossed some
clothes at her. “What, you can’t picture me with bleached blonde hair, a beard,
and earrings in my nose and eyebrows?” He glanced past her, and Sophie followed
his gaze to the open window. The sun was setting. By the time they left
darkness would be on Brent’s side.

“Get dressed. And make it quick or
I’ll dress you myself.”

Sophie’s brows shot up at that but
she wisely kept quiet. She wanted to ask Brent to turn around while she
dressed, but sensed he wasn’t in the mood for chivalry. Under his watchful gaze
she forced herself to relax, and slipped into the clothes. “I remember hearing
that seventy-year-old Eunice had been treated kindly by her kidnappers.” She
slipped her feet into the flip-flops he provided.

He moved forward with a hat in his
hands and a smile in his eyes that took her breath away. “She wasn’t a young,
spirited troublemaker. Pull your hair up under this.”

His gaze moved over her as she did
as he asked, his mouth twisting with humor when he stood back to observe the finished
product. “Even in clothes three sizes too big and your hair hidden beneath a
cap, you still manage to stand there looking every bit as unapproachable as you
did attired in that black evening gown the other night.”

Sophie wasn’t about to apologize for
her privileged upbringing. One of the first things she learned was that it
wasn’t the clothes that made a person. It was how they carried themselves. She
followed Brent quietly to the door.

He paused before opening it,
glancing down at her. “I trust you won’t make any scenes?” Without waiting for
her reply, Sophie watched him take out the gun he kept tucked in the back of
his pants. A cold chill traveled down her spine, as she focused on the black
revolver. He reached forward, putting a finger beneath her chin. He forced her
to meet his eyes. “Ever seen anyone shot before?”

It wasn’t the first time Sophie
realized just how dangerous Brent was. He held her gaze for a long moment
before she guessed he was satisfied with what he saw. She had no choice but to
wait behind him when he swung the door open. He checked the hallway to make sure
the coast was clear, before tugging her to the stairwell door. Once again,
Sophie found herself rushing down the stairs. It didn’t take them long to reach
the parking garage. She automatically looked for the security cameras as he
pulled her along, realizing no one would recognize her. She had to do something
to draw attention to them, and reached up with the intention of whipping off
her hat.

“Keep your head down so they can’t
see your face!” Brent ordered, heading toward a big truck with darkly tinted windows.

Sophie did as she was told, her gaze
falling on the various sheets of paper she’d flung out the window earlier.
A lot of good that had done, if he’d been the only one curious
enough to pick one up.

He opened the door on the driver’s
side, glancing around to make sure no one was observing them. “Get in.”

She was practically pushed into the
vehicle. As she scooted to the passenger side his hand was there to keep her
from going too close to the door. With a flick of his wrist the engine roared
to life. Then they were squealing into traffic, just as a barrage of police
cars, with sirens blaring, raced up the circular drive to the front of the
building.

Darn, that had been close! Sophie
turned back to look, wishing she had the courage to throw herself from a moving
vehicle, but Brent was driving like a maniac. The cruisers came to a screeching
halt and doors opened simultaneously, as several police officers exited with
haste. They rushed into the lobby of the building.

“A little too late,” Brent remarked,
gaining her attention. “Buckle up.”

Too tired to argue, Sophie leaned
back and did as instructed, watching the scenery go by as they raced down the
coastal highway. It was past dinnertime and she was hungry, but more than that,
she was scared. Being held prisoner in the apartment two doors down from hers
had made her feel safe and comfortable, as ridiculous as that sounded.

Now they were on the run.

She cast a glance at Brent out of
the corner of her eye. He appeared intent on watching the highway, a muscle in
his lean jaw twitching with his thoughts. Her mind raced at where he was taking
her.

There was only one place on earth
that frightened her more than being kidnapped, and that was being on the water.
Sighing, she laid her head back and closed her eyes.

What were the odds of that
happening?

Chapter 11

“Come on, princess, wake up. We’re
here.”

Brent’s voice seemed to come from
far away, gradually penetrating Sophie’s unconsciousness until she roused
enough to open her eyes. Stretching as much as the confines of the truck
allowed she yawned behind her hand, barely sparing him a glance before taking
in her surroundings. Wherever they were, it was pitch-dark, except for a smattering
of twinkling lights directly in front of them. Beyond them appeared to be a
wood fence. Eyes narrowing, she tried to determine what the lights were. Her
mind burned with a memory that remained just out of reach, yet something told
her she’d seen them before.

“Where are we?” Her stomach picked
up the aroma of food, growling loudly, but she ignored it, more interested on
what the blinking lights were in the distance. They made her think of fireflies
dancing in the midnight sky.

Sophie glanced around, able to make
out the dark shadows of other vehicles parked along either side of them. The
faint sound of music and laughter drew her attention to the outline of a large
square building off to the right. The lights filtering through the windows
appeared very dim.

“Home,” Brent replied, sliding out
of the truck. “Come on.”

As soon as her feet hit the ground,
Sophie knew they were parked on gravel. Then the familiar screams of seagulls
and the sound of water registered, turning her blood to ice. She glanced again
at the lights, a cold shiver spreading over her when she finally recognized
what they were.

They were at the marina. Boats
anchored further out in the harbor looked like monsters rising from the deep;
their lights reflecting off the black, mirrored surface of the water.
Didn’t I tell Brent I’m afraid of the water?
She couldn’t remember. Fear held her rooted as haunting memories came rushing
back, locking the breath in her throat.

God, how long had it been since that
summer? When a family vacation had ended tragically,
forever
changing
her life. The day when a nine-year-old girl witnessed the
violent end to an older brother who’d meant the world to her. How and when was
a child ever supposed to get over something like that?

She started to pull back when the
horror of that day rushed to the surface, threatening to overwhelm her. It was
the one thing in her life she’d never been able to come to terms with:
surviving when Paul hadn’t. The shrinks hadn’t been able to help her and
finally her father had stopped forcing her to go to them. She hadn’t curled up
inside herself as they’d predicted, but she’d never gotten over the incident
either.

“No…” Brent’s head snapped her way,
his gaze narrowing on her. The little bit of light from the restaurant allowed
her to see his hardened expression. “I can’t go out there. The water…” Biting
her lip, Sophie looked away, unable to finish.

“You live on the beach,” Brent
pointed out in a suspicious tone. “What are you trying to pull now?”

“It’s a love-hate relationship,”
Sophie clarified, staring at the water. It looked like a black demon, getting ready
to rear up its ugly head and
swallow
her whole. “I
like living near the ocean, but I never go into the water.”

“You expect me to believe that
bull?” His tone bordered with disbelief. He was obviously convinced it was all
an act. “You’ll have to come up with a better one than that.”

Sophie shook her head negatively.
“It’s the truth, Brent. I’ll do anything you want, go with you anywhere you
want. But please don’t make me go out there.”

“You sound sincere, but what you’re
telling me doesn’t make any sense.” Sophie followed his gaze, as he looked at
something at the very end of the dock. With a sinking feeling, she sensed it
was his boat. There was grit in his voice when he said, “Sorry princess, you’ll
just have to get over it, whatever it is. You’ll like The Lazy Jay. And if it
helps any, we’re not leaving the dockside.”

For a moment, they stood there in
the darkness, facing each other like adversaries, neither one backing down. Instincts
told Sophie that Brent wasn’t going to change his mind, and she was too
stubborn to try and appeal to his softer side, if he had one. After all, he was
the kidnapper and he called the shots. She steeled herself as he slowly made
his way around the truck toward her.

“You’re not going to sway me from my
one and only plan, so save that frightened, round-eyed little girl act,” he
said firmly. He grasped Sophie by the shoulders; she gasped, his closeness
causing the oddest sensation in the lower region of her belly. Before she could
tell her mind to ignore it he turned her until she faced the dock. “All you
have to do is put one foot before the other.”

“No!” Sophie held back, straining
against his hands. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest as panic set in.

“Yes!” he said sharply in her ear,
uncaring of her fears. He gave her a little shove.

Sophie spun around. “You’re a bas—”
She cut herself off when it dawned on her she’d been about to go too far. No
telling what a man like him would do if he were insulted.

He surprised her by chuckling. She
wasn’t fooled by his humor. Sophie bet if she made one wrong move, he’d spring
into action. She straightened her back and squared her shoulders, refusing to
budge.
There’s no way I’m going willingly.
He’ll have to carry me.

“Well?” His sharp tone caused her to
jump a little. The unexpected glare of a car’s headlight approaching the boat
landing drew their attention. Brent put his hands on her, turned her, and gave
her another little nudge. “Stop stalling and move it,” he warned in a low
growl. It was obvious he didn’t want anyone to see them.

The dock appeared to jet out into
the shimmering, black water for miles but Sophie knew it was just an illusion;
a mean trick playing upon the fear bottled up inside her. She forced herself to
breathe in slowly and deeply, working up the nerve to take the first step.
Hating that Brent was witnessing a weakness she shared with no one. As her foot
touched down on the first wood plank, feelings of terror every bit as sharp and
vivid as it had been twenty years before cloaked her. Overwhelming anxiety threatened
to weigh her down like a heavy blanket, stealing the breath from her body. Her
very life if she let it.

Her heart began to pound like a
drumbeat in her chest, so loud it blocked out any other noise. Time had done
little in healing the pain or remembrance of that summer day. Of losing Paul in
a frenzied shark attack that had gone on for what felt like forever. Tears
welled in her eyes until she couldn’t see. She bit down on her lip until the
taste of blood filled her mouth. She was frustrated she couldn’t control this
one tiny memory of her life and keep it from crippling her.

She took one more step and then
another, barely breathing, her unfocused vision glued to the wooden planks at
her feet, trying to ignore the row of boats docked on either side of her.
Occasionally she could see the glimmer of water through the split in the wood,
catching her breath. Brent finally lost patience at her snail’s pace.

“Come on, princess, at this rate it
will be daylight by the time we reach my boat.”

Holding back a sharp retort about
his insensitivity, she glanced up long enough to take in the boat nearest to
her, wondering which one belonged to him. That one small move turned out to be
her downfall because either the wharf was swaying slightly with the current or
she was dizzy.

Releasing a small gasp, her hands
automatically sought the wood rail for support but it was already too late. She
felt herself falling, as blackness quickly engulfed her.

Chapter 12

The bed was moving; Sophie was sure
of it. She could feel it swaying gently beneath her but was unable to comprehend
the reason why. As her eyelids gradually lifted, she found herself looking at
her own reflection. A small sound of shock escaped her and her eyes widened.
She was definitely lying on a bed; stripped down to the white shirt that barely
covered her decently; her hair spread out around her as though she was posing
for a picture for one of those girlie magazines. Reaching for the hem, she made
a half-hearted effort to pull the material further down her naked thighs.