Chapter 1 #2
The mere act of moving her eyeballs to view her surroundings hurt like hell, but her vision was beginning to clear. Concrete floors, walls, and a ceiling low enough to give the room a suffocating vibe. Great, a torture chamber.
She glimpsed her brown wig on the floor by her bare feet. Her hockey mask lay upside down next to it.
She stared in a daze at the pink color on her toenails. Pink toenails seemed glaringly out of place in a room where she was about to be tortured and killed.
A paw of a hand grabbed hold of her chin, forcing her to look up. His other hand yanked at her blonde hair, pulling the pins free to allow her locks to fall.
The sound of a round being chambered in a firearm had her eying another man to her left. On her right, a guy held a camera.
“Let her go.” A deep voice boomed from somewhere in the room. The words bounced off the walls like a dark, terrifying echo.
Her body tensed. A shudder of fear blanketed her at the sound of that deep, husky tone.
It was him, wasn’t it?
The voice belonged to the owner of the estate, Carter Dominick. Ex-spook. Former Delta guy who’d gone rogue. He was also an all-around asshole and criminal from what she’d heard.
Footsteps neared, and the men around her fell back.
Dark shoes appeared, but the dangling light hanging just in front of her obscured her view of his face.
Black dress pants encased long legs. A white dress shirt was tucked into his pants. Sleeves rolled to the elbows to expose ink she couldn’t try and analyze at the moment. And why would it matter?
“I had contemplated waiting a bit longer to grab you and see how good you really are firsthand. I got impatient, though.” He stepped closer, the light from the single bulb now behind him, revealing his face. His identity. “And it was me that brought you here.”
“What?” Had she been set up? No, her partner would never.
Maybe the guy who provided the details of the location?
But she’d gone through a middleman, and no one would know it was her who’d been hunting for this property since it was off-the-grid, or why she’d been seeking it.
“I don’t understand.” She deepened the tone of her voice to hide any hints of her Southern accent to prevent him from discovering anything personal about her.
No names in her work. No real names ever. Not even for her partner.
She did whatever she could to protect her family from this life.
Carter brought a hand to his black beard, which was closely trimmed to his angular jaw.
Late thirties. His eyes hardened from years in the service, probably long before he went astray from the CIA.
His broad shoulders pinned back as he stood tall before her.
“My men weren’t supposed to be so rough. I apologize.”
“Apologize?” she asked in disbelief.
“I’ve been waiting to come face-to-face with you. You’re worth a fortune, you know.” His voice was cold and deep. Commanding. “Especially to one man in particular.”
Rory froze at Carter’s statement, and a slice of panic cut through her as she kept her attention riveted to his dark eyes.
Was this it? Was this how it ended?
In a surprising move that had her swallowing hard, he came closer and knelt before her. His dark hair was a touch spiky. His skin golden from living near the beach, no doubt. When he placed a hand on her knee, she followed his touch but reined in her fear and kept her breathing slow and even.
“Why do you want me? Are you delivering me to him?” She forgot to hide her Southern accent this time.
“Doesn’t seem like your style from what I’ve heard about you, but I never thought you’d get in league with a man like him, either.
” She was showing some of her cards. Letting him know she knew who he worked for, but what did it matter anymore?
If Carter had made the effort to lure her to his home, surely he planned to offer her to his boss, the man pulling the strings for so many.
“I highly doubt you know much about me.” His statement slid under her skin and struck her in the heart. The words imbued with sadness, but why?
She dragged her gaze back up to his dark eyes and found emptiness—loneliness in his irises.
Not the eerie, lust-filled look other assholes had given her, and this wasn’t her first time being tied up, either.
Although maybe it ought to be her last. Her family and friends were right. It was time to settle down.
No one back home had the slightest clue what Rory did when she was off traveling the globe.
But she’d need to survive the night if she intended to heed Savanna’s advice and become a tree.
Or maybe she’d said Rory needed to plant roots.
They’d both been tipsy on champagne at the time, and Rory was too out of it at the moment to remember exactly.
“But no, I don’t work for that man. It was simply how I lured you here. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist that tasty morsel.” A smile on his lips faded fast. “I don’t work for anyone.”
Could she believe him? Probably not. “Why?” She kept her head high, hoping to stamp out any fear in her tone.
“I doubt you came alone, am I right?” he asked, ignoring her. “Should I go look for your friend? The person whom you entrusted with your life to prevent you from falling to an ugly death?”
“I came alone,” she lied, flinching as his free hand went to her ear. He removed her comm and tightened his fist around the little device.
Carter pushed back upright and handed it to one of the men in the room who materialized as if on cue before disappearing back into the shadows.
“Why am I here?” Rory repeated, this time with more oomph and through gritted teeth.
“Because I need your help,” he tossed back casually.
“I would never help you,” she rushed out.
“You think I would just let you go?” His body was ramrod straight, but his arms remained casual and relaxed at his sides. “Many would offer up their firstborn to get their hands on you, especially to turn you over to the one man that—”
“I’m not that—” she interrupted, only to have him quickly cut her off.
“You are that . . .” Carter let his words trail, and his chest lifted and fell with a deep breath. His Texas roots clung to his tone, and he made no attempt to hide his accent as she had.
“Then what do you want from me?” she whispered, hating the touch of weakness that now seeped through her tone.
“You should quit before you die.” His words were blunt and still rang with a hint of coldness despite his odd request. “If he, or anyone for that matter, discovered your identity, you and your entire family would be killed as retribution. You must know this.” His hands dipped into his pockets.
“Someone will find out who you are. They will get to you as I have done tonight.”
“Why do you care? You’re a criminal.”
“Life is all about perception.” He tipped his head to the side, his expressive eyes softening. “But we can help each other.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.” Carter paused. “Before he gets to you, you’d be wise to quit. Do something different. Something no one would suspect of you. Because he will find you. Come for you. And kill everyone you love. That is a promise.”
And like the crack of a whip to her back, which she’d also experienced before, his words cut into her, brandishing a mark. “So, you brought me here to save me?” she asked, not buying this for one minute. “You trying to earn your way into heaven? Reclaim your soul?”
“No one can save my soul, and no, I’m not that nice.” He let go of a deep breath, his chest falling with the exhale. “If you choose to continue this dangerous life, that’s your death wish. I can only offer my suggestion. But I do need your help.”
“And if I don’t help you?” Her chin lifted in challenge.
“Then perhaps I’ll give you to the man who wants you even more than I do.” Carter was a dangerous, shadowy criminal, but looking into his eyes, part of her believed he wouldn’t kill her.
She gulped, digesting her reality. Analyzing the situation. The truth of the here and now. Chills dashed up her spine, which was damp with sweat beneath her hoodie.
She squeezed her eyes closed, the memory of Chris, a man she barely knew, springing back to mind for some reason.
She could use that former special operator for a save right about now.
I’m not ready to die. But if she made it out of this alive, would she be able to turn her back on everything she’d worked so hard to achieve?
How many times had she tried to walk away only to come back?
Her mission whispered to her at night.
It pulled.
It pleaded.
It urged her back when she had tried to walk away out of fear.
Rory’s heart beat wildly, and she slowly opened her eyes and lifted her chin to peer at Carter towering before her like an impenetrable wall she’d need to scale to get to her freedom.
One more swallow, and then she asked in as confident a voice as possible, “What is it that you want me to do?”