Kane’s Prey (Skeleton Crew #2)

Chapter 1

Lovelyn

Of all the ways I could be hurtling towards death, unsatisfied wasn’t the one I’d expected.

Mere minutes ago, I’d been grabbed off the street and thrown into the back of a van.

And while I should be focusing on escape, the perfectly illogical thought wrapped around my mind.

I was going to die, and I’d never had great sex.

Never figured out what I liked. Never had someone who cared enough to help me learn.

Now, I never would.

Damn it. Focus.

The engine growled beneath me, the road’s hum changing as we turned corners.

Locked somewhere between terror and disbelief, I catalogued what I knew.

A dark-coloured vehicle, no windows, rough floorboards under my palms, a bag tied tight over my head.

Whoever had taken me was strong enough to lift me without a struggle. Definitely a man.

If I could slow my panic, maybe I could work out who.

My father’s job in the police came with enemies, enough to fill a spreadsheet. The number of people I could call on for help? Far smaller. Irrationally, my mind latched on to a face.

Kane. The towering wall of tattooed muscle I’d played fake girlfriend to earlier today.

A gangster, technically. I’d escorted him into a police safe house so he could rescue a colleague, and the heat of his hand on my arm had fried my brain.

He’d leaned close, his voice a gravelled whisper against my ear, promising he wanted to talk to me later.

So tantalising. I’d hurried away through town, my nose in the chatter on a police message group and not on my surroundings. My ancestors had survived plagues and wars. Distraction by notifications was my downfall.

I’d been grabbed in seconds flat.

Worse, it had come shortly after my father had passed on a warning he’d received about me. A threat with the instruction not to go out at night.

I’d been nabbed in broad daylight, thanks very much.

I’d been obsessing over Kane in the couple of hours since. What had he wanted to say? Would I ever get to hear it? How did he somehow now represent safety in my mind?

Another turn. Tyres rattled over cobbles. My pulse quickened. Whoever had taken me was choosing a quiet place to stop.

Maybe this was it. I’d find out what kind of man thought I was worth stealing.

Fresh fear rinsed me cold, and I felt around my surroundings, my fingers ghosting over the boards then cool interior walls. No handle to wrench. The knot on the bag wouldn’t give.

What didn’t make sense was why my hands or legs weren’t constrained. It suggested that whoever took me didn’t see me as a threat.

Reasonable. I wasn’t short, but I was definitely on the wobbly side of curvy. No danger to any man.

Still, I’d fight. Or negotiate for my life. I was a resourceful woman with links to the police force, but also connections into Deadwater’s underworld. I’d been happily spanning both, perhaps to my downfall.

One thing was certain, I wasn’t going to be an easy captive.

The van slowed, the engine idled, then it cut out.

I held my breath. We’d been on the road only around twenty minutes. On a mental map, that could’ve got us from Leith to the outskirts of Edinburgh. A residential estate, an industrial park, or a country lane where I’d end up a footnote in a missing person report.

Inches from my head, the latch clicked, and I jumped and tucked in on myself. The door glided open, light filtering around the edges of the bag. Sure fingers grasped the tie at my neck.

Panic seized hold of me. I kicked out, hard, connecting with a soft part of my kidnapper’s body. He released a surprised oof. Good. If I died tonight, at least someone else was going to limp tomorrow.

I scrambled towards the light and half fell out of the van.

“Help!” I screamed into the material of my hood, stumbling away. Swinging around, I put my hands out and yelled again.

With frightening ease, my attacker collected my wrists behind my back with one hand and pinned me against him, using his free hand to tackle the knot.

Thick arms. Something familiar in the feel of him. It couldn’t bypass my terror to resolve into a clue.

The knot gave, and the string around my neck loosened. I jerked my knee at the man’s crotch area and fought to get away.

He growled in annoyance but kept a tight hold. Then with almost slow arrogance, plucked the bag from my head.

Revealing a face I knew.

Kane.

The man of my fantasies, and now my nightmares.

I stared in shock then yanked at his hold. “Let go of me.”

He raised an easy shoulder and released my wrists. “I only held on because ye were thrashing like a wildcat. Keep it up and I’ll start to think you enjoy being in my arms.”

Emotion rocked me, but I contained it and took in our surroundings and my chances of escape.

We were inside an industrial building with a high metal rafter ceiling and little else, the van parked next to a black car, and no other people in sight.

The open bay faced wasteland where drizzle blurred the view.

There had to be other buildings with workers around. Kane had taken my phone, or I’d dropped it. I had to find another.

If I could get away.

He was massive, all muscle and coiled stillness. Close-cropped hair, plain black clothes. A bulge at his waist and another at his ankle. Armed. Of course he was.

I knew nothing about him. Nothing I could use to bargain with or talk my way out of this.

Wait, that wasn’t quite true.

“Does your sister know you did this?” I lifted my chin. “Mila might have thoughts about you kidnapping her friends.”

Mila had told me about her attempts to get close to her brother. Efforts he’d hopefully shared. It was her boyfriend we’d rescued today.

Kane regarded me, his features neutral. “Did what?”

“Grabbed me off the street.”

“I staged a kidnapping.”

“Same difference.”

“No. The difference is you’re still breathing.

” He filled his lungs as if to illustrate the point.

“In the planning for Convict’s rescue, Arran said you needed plausible deniability to help us.

I worked out the rest. Your da uses you as a go-between with the skeleton crew.

I’m guessing he doesn’t know that you also supply Arran with information?

That means you need to walk that line carefully. ”

I tried and failed to start my sentence. “So you threw me into the back of your van?”

“I placed ye. Rather I’d picked you up outside the safe house in full view of every watching cop? We risked your father seeing me once today. It’s only a matter of time before he associates me with the crew, whether I’m still working with them or not.”

The matter-of-fact way he spoke finally allowed anger to replace my fear. I balled my hands into fists. Except I couldn’t manage the words to tell him off. I was too upset. Too rattled by what he’d done.

Instead, I turned and stalked away.

Kane was on me before I’d got three paces, rounding to obstruct my path. I sidestepped him and broke into a run. He caught my trailing wrist and hauled me back against his body.

“Don’t run from me, Lovelyn. I might like it.”

God help me, a dark part of me wondered if I’d like it, too. I shoved him away, confused by the rush of lust that had no place in this strange scene. “You’re a psychopath.”

My voice shook but with fury, not fear. Mostly.

“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t have done this without very good reason. Try asking me what that is.”

“Try taking a long walk off a short cliff.”

Kane held my gaze, something in his eyes compelling me to listen. “You’re friends with Dixie, correct?”

I hesitated. Dixie worked at the skeleton crew’s warehouse. She’d been a sex worker before someone took a knife to her throat, and now had the job of researching bad men in the city so her employer could take them out. I hadn’t seen her in a while.

“What about her?”

“She’s missing, and I think she’s in danger. Already someone made an attempt on her life. I want to stop them being successful a second time.”

Settling my hands on my hips, I let a tiny amount of my panic recede. My worry for Dixie had already been big. Now, it billowed like a thundercloud. “Why do you care?”

“For reasons I don’t have time to explain.”

“Right,” I drawled. “Though you had plenty of time to stage a kidnapping. What makes you think I’d help after that?”

“Because you’re friends. You know where she lives. You told Mila.”

Something wasn’t adding up. Not the way he’d snatched me from the streets, nor the fact it was me he’d come to for this. “There’s probably a dozen people who know Dixie better than me. Why not ask around in the warehouse? Why go to all this trouble?”

“I don’t think she’d want that. You’re discreet, and time is of the essence.”

“If you think I won’t tell people about this, you’re insane.”

He raised a bulky shoulder, apparently untroubled. “So long as I get what I want, I don’t give a fuck what ye do.”

That weird attraction shimmered once more, and with it came a problem. My sense of regret in the back of the van about never having had good sex. A strange and desperate response to expecting to be murdered.

In both cases, those sentiments had been generated by him.

It had been thrilling to be on his arm. The shape of him broke my brain. His bulk, the powerful way he moved, the don’t-give-a-fuck attitude he wore like armour.

That was the only justification for the relief that filtered into my other emotions. I had every reason to get as far away from him as possible.

I glared at my kidnapper. Took a step.

The bastard smiled. “You’re not going anywhere, Lovelyn. Not until I’ve got what I came for.”

And the terrifying part? A dark, traitorous part of me wanted to ask what, exactly, that was.