Chapter 45
LAUREL
It wasn’t like the movies, where all my memories came flooding back in a giant rush. I only had the one, the moment where this man whispered that he might love me.
It was a flash, and that was it, but I could hear, and taste, and feel everything in that memory. I could even smell the dusty scent of the thick, red curtains draped around us. The love I felt for him came flooding back, and for the first time since I’d awoken out on the balcony, I felt warm.
Plavko struck the man again, this time in the face, causing the man to turn his head and spit blood. I couldn’t draw air into my lungs. My shoes were made of concrete.
“I asked you to leave.” Ryan appeared concerned I hadn’t departed, hadn’t obeyed.
I swallowed hard. “I want to stay.”
It was impossible to tell which bothered him more, that I’d defied him, or the way his hulking bodyguard shifted, uneasy.
Another piece came into focus. Plavko hadn’t said “It’s done” earlier. He’d said, “It’s Dunn.” As in Deputy U.S. Marshal Jason Dunn.
Here now in Croatia to find me, because that was what he was so good at.
“You want to stay? Fine. Come here,” Ryan commanded, “Laurel.”
The force of the word was crushing and unrelenting, and trying to resist only made it worse. The pain was similar to when I tried to recall memories.
No, not similar—it was exactly the same.
But I had no choice, utterly powerless.
One new memory was all I had, so I clung to it as the only thing I knew was true and let it unlock another while I marched forward. My rain-soaked body was huddled together with Jason’s under a blanket, the fire crackling in the fireplace and the heat between us burning much hotter.
“This man wants to take you away from me.” Ryan turned me in his arms to face Jason, wrapping me so tightly I couldn’t move. “Tell him you want to stay.”
The muscles running along Jason’s jaw tensed. He spit another mouthful of blood on the floor and his face turned to steel. “She won’t do that.”
“Really? Maybe I should convince you how in love we are.”
My heart galloped, and since Ryan couldn’t see my face, I let my terror show through for a fraction of a second.
Then he had me turned to him, his mouth covering mine, muting everything but the loud voice in my head. The one I now recognized as Dr. Vorbusch’s and not my own. I collapsed under his power, unable to fight back, hating every second of it.
When the torturous kiss ended, he gauged my reaction and looked satisfied he still had control.
“I love you.” His voice was devoid of any warmth.
“I love you,” I parroted back without emotion or meaning. A programmed response. But I could feel the damage it was doing to Jason, and I died a little inside. Fuck, I had to do something.
The gun Ryan had brought with him was meant to be used on the man I loved.
He believed I knew nothing of this man handcuffed to a chair. Could I use that to my advantage? Jason was defenseless, and Plavko loomed over him, threatening more violence.
I’d have to get rid of them both before I made my move.
And I could only hope that Jason could forgive me for what I was about to say.
“I’m tired, Ryan, and it’s our wedding night.
” It was a struggle to make it sound seductive, to dangle the thing he seemed to most want from me.
“Let’s go to bed, and you can deal with this tomorrow.
Maybe Plavko can find somewhere to put him until then. ”
Could I actually hear Jason’s heart breaking?
No, it was the chair he was sitting in. His fury was so intense, it was nearly palpable. Plavko drew his gun and hooked his other hand under Jason’s arm so he could yank him to his feet.
My heart stopped as the gun was wedged beneath Jason’s chin, and he went utterly still. Beside me, Ryan chuckled. His mouth curled into a smile like this was one of the best ideas he’d ever heard.
“Put him in the studio,” he said, waving Plavko off. The tall man nodded and shoved Jason through the doorway.
His tortured voice came from the hall. “You don’t have to do this, L!”
I played my part the best I could, not letting any amount of the massive emotion I felt show in any way.
Not even when Ryan took my hand and led me to the bedroom.
It was so hard to focus because worry crowded so much of my mind. I tried not to tremble as I stood beside the bed and pretended this was what I wanted. Ryan was oblivious, almost giddy with excitement as he pulled his gun from his waistband and set it on the nightstand.
“If we’re going to do this,” I said, “I have a . . . condition.”
He sauntered toward me and kissed the side of my neck, and I had to pretend my skin didn’t want to crawl away. His lips brushed against the shell of my ear. “Yeah? What is it?”
“I need to be in control.”
He pulled back to deliver a confused smile. “I’m your husband. You don’t trust me?”
“The first time I got into bed with you, you strangled me.”
That gave him pause. “All right. I can let you be in control.”
“That’s not enough.” My hands hung at my sides, and I clenched my fingers tightly. “I have to be sure.”
“Hmm.” He was distracted by what he thought was going to happen, and his fingertips traced patterns down my bare arms. “How would we do that?”
I nervously pulled at the undone tie at his neck, sliding it free. I coiled it in my hand, making it apparent.
“You want to tie me up?” His skeptical look made my breath catch. I nodded, my lips pressed together. He considered it, and to my relief, his mouth curved into a playful smile. “We can do that.”
I practically ran to his closet and grabbed a handful of ties, him laughing.
“You in a hurry, darling?”
The memory hit me hard. The hotel hallway where he’d kissed me, but he’d looked different then. Didn’t he have piercing blue eyes? The same ones I’d seen in my nightmares in the parking garage?
I came out with the ties dangling from my grip and forced myself to keep it together. To hold on because this might be my only chance, and I had to save Jason.
Ryan had already shed his tuxedo jacket. He worked to unbutton his dress shirt, and I watched as he pulled it off and cast it aside. There was a hungry look in his eyes, and I had to squash my revulsion when he approached and filled my mouth with his probing tongue.
Do not gag. You can do this.
The faster I got him on the bed, the faster this could be over, so I reached for his belt. I fumbled with the latch, clumsy and hurried, and he seized my hands to slow me down, giving me a questioning look.
That was when I saw the faint ridge of the contacts in his eyes. The other night when I’d come into his bed it had been too dark, but the following morning after he’d pulled me from the balcony, I’d seen his true eye color.
I’d just been too terrified at that time to realize it.
“Are you nervous?” he whispered. “Don’t be.”
And then he took over, undoing his belt and his pants, letting them fall to the floor so he could step out of them. My eyes squeezed shut when he set his greedy hands on my body, caressing and touching and searching for the zipper at my back.
I eased back from him and shook my head. “I want to leave it on a little longer.”
A displeased line formed between his eyebrows but vanished as a new emotion took hold. “You want me to fuck you in your wedding dress?” His expression became pure sin. “We can do that too.”
I swallowed my disgust, put my hands on his shoulders, and shoved him back to take a seat on the side of the bed. I probably used too much force, but he didn’t seem to mind. A chuckle rumbled from his chest. He liked the aggression.
His gaze fell to the ribbons of silk clenched in my fist. “Not too tight,” he said. “Those ties are expensive.”
I nodded. Satisfied, Ryan moved, sliding up the bed until his back was against the headboard.
He was calm, comfortable as he offered one of his wrists to me, while my heart chugged along like a runaway train.
I knotted one end of a tie around his wrist, then looped the other around the bedpost, jerking it closed with the most secure knot I could manage.
“Where are you going?” he asked, half teasing, half serious when I began to move. I didn’t answer. I marched around the end of the bed and to the other side, reaching for his unbound wrist.
“No.” He pulled his free hand away and suspicion clouded his eyes. “One is enough.”
It took every ounce of control I possessed to continue the performance, especially since this would be the hardest part. I gathered my skirt into my hands, lifting it out of my way so I could climb into his lap.
His eyes widened then hooded with lust at this action. His unbound hand grasped my waist, pulling me down and pressing us together. With only our underwear in the way, I could feel every fucking inch of him, and the shudder that rolled through me was unstoppable.
Thankfully, he thought it was pleasure.
As I recovered, I took in air through small sips and willed my heart to slow down. “Please?” I begged. “I want this.”
There was absolutely no lie in the words, and he could sense it, but I had to make sure. Had to convince him this was a good idea, and he wasn’t stupid if he allowed it.
I placed a hand delicately on his bare chest, leaned in, and pressed my mouth to his. It was the first time I’d kissed him by choice, and—oh, how he liked that.
His lips moved against mine, patient at first, and then eager to be in charge.
He kissed me like he might actually love me, and for one fleeting moment, I almost felt sorry for him.
But then the intensity of the kiss grew, driving his hand up my side.
It slid over my chest, and he gripped me through my dress.
I inhaled sharply through my nose but didn’t dare break the kiss.
I used the power of it to curl my fingers around his wrist and pin it to the bedpost.
“All right,” he whispered against my lips.
Thank fuck. He continued to mouth irritating kisses against the side of my neck as I focused on getting his wrist secured with another tie. I slipped the knot closed so tightly, he grunted with discomfort, and the sound was deeply satisfying.
I sat upright on him, staring down at the man who had taken so much from me.
“Do you feel in control?” he asked.
“Yes.” I pulled the gun from the nightstand, warming the cold metal with the palm of my hand.
There wasn’t a hint of danger in his voice. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making myself feel safe.”
“I’m tied up, I can’t do anything to you.”
“No. You can’t.” The bed didn’t make a sound as I climbed off him and doublechecked the knots, pulling them tighter. “There’s that word you don’t like, Frey. No.”
He jolted with surprise, then his expression turned dark. “I don’t need my hands to be in control, Lau—”
“Shut up.” I grabbed more ties, wadded one up, and shoved it in his mouth, taking more satisfaction from the gagging noise he made. I looped another over his mouth and secured it behind his head to keep the gag in place.
My heart pounded, making blood whoosh loudly in my ears as I stepped back and raised the gun.
I didn’t know anything about them, which I’d proved that night I’d been in the van.
This was why I’d wanted to tie him up first. If I’d reached for his gun before then, I was sure something would go wrong.
He’d overpower me, or disarm me, or I wouldn’t be able to get it to fire in time.
Plus, as much as I hated him and he deserved it, I wasn’t sure I was ready to become a murderer.
I stared down the barrel at the man tethered to the bed, who didn’t scream or move. His eyes mocked me, silently daring me to do it.
But I couldn’t. I physically couldn’t.
The gun was a million pounds in my hands. Was it more of Dr. Vorbusch’s work?
“Stay,” I uttered, even though I’d done everything to make sure he had no other choice. I had to get to Jason.
I burst out into the hallway, only to find I wasn’t alone. Plavko was there, running toward me, and I acted on instinct. The gun in my hand came up, no longer weighing more than it should.
“Take me to Dunn,” I demanded, pointing the gun as menacingly as I could.
My feelings for him were conflicted. He’d helped me so many times, but then I remembered the times he’d punched Jason. Plavko pulled up short at the sight of my gun but said nothing.
He disarmed me in one precise move that was so swift it left me breathless. I stumbled backward, horrified.
“Stop,” he said, extending the gun back to me, his hand wrapped around the barrel. “I’ll help you, but I need to know where Juric is first.”
The gesture was wildly disorienting, but not half as much as his voice. Not Croatian. Distinctly American.
I hesitantly took the gun back, my mind struggling. “I . . . tied him to the bed.”
He stepped around me, peered into the room, and issued a half-laugh at the sight of a nearly naked Frey struggling against his ties.
“Well, good for you.” But then he scowled. “The marshal made this a real mess for me, you know that?”
How could I answer him? I had no idea what was going on.
“No.” He softened a little. “Of course you don’t. Look, I need to salvage what intel I can out of Juric, so do me a favor. Keep Dunn away until I’m finished. He owes me that.” He turned to face me and put a hand on the edge of the door. “He’s waiting for you in the studio.”
The door clicked shut, and I took off, bolting down the hall.