Chapter 39
The first thing Lark noticed was the headache. The second was the chair. She opened her eyes slowly and stared at the stained concrete floor beneath her.
Well, this was cliché. Tied to a chair in a creepy garage. Apparently, her life had officially become a bad thriller.
She tested her wrists. Zip ties. Again. Her stomach dropped.
Her hands were secured behind the chair, and another restraint held her ankles together. The plastic bit into the skin still tender from the island.
She swallowed against the dryness in her throat and forced herself to look around.
The room was large and dim, lit by a single fluorescent fixture that flickered overhead. A workbench stretched along one wall, cluttered with tools, grease-stained rags, and several metal containers. Shelves held boxes of unknown contents. An old refrigerator hummed in the corner.
There were two garage doors. One was closed. The other had been partially blocked by stacked crates.
Crates. Her stomach twisted. She recognized the style immediately. Not the exact ones from the island, but similar enough to make her pulse jump.
A faint chemical smell hung in the air beneath the heavier scents of gasoline, oil, and damp concrete.
Wren was beside her. Still unconscious. “Wren?” Nothing.
Lark twisted as much as the restraints allowed. “Wren.” The other woman groaned. “Wren?”
Her eyelids fluttered. “Lark?”
“I’m here.”
Wren’s eyes opened wider. For several seconds she looked confused. Then she saw the restraints. Her breathing became rapid. “Oh, my God.”
“Hey.” Lark kept her voice as calm as she could. “Look at me.”
“What happened?”
“We were taken from the bathroom.”
Wren’s face crumpled. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” That was a lie. Lark had a pretty good idea. She just didn’t know how much she could safely say.
Wren started crying. “I don’t understand.”
“I know.”
“We’re going to get out of here, right?”
Lark forced herself to nod. “That’s the plan.” It wasn’t much of a plan. But it was something.
Footsteps sounded outside the garage. Lark’s entire body went rigid.
The door opened. The two men entered. The one she’d recognized from the island walked in first. Her blood ran cold.
He looked at her and smiled. Then slapped her, hard, across the face.
Her head whipped to the side, and she tasted blood in her mouth.
“You,” he spat.
Lark stared back. “You again.”
His smile vanished. “You have no idea how much trouble you’ve caused me.”
“Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.”
He stepped closer. “You cost me good men.”
Lark’s stomach tightened. “What?”
“Four men dead.” His expression hardened. “Because of you.”
Lark stared at him. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“You didn’t have to.” Wren whimpered beside her. The man ignored her. “You just had to be there.”
Lark pulled against the restraints. “What do you want?”
“Unfortunately, that’s not my decision.”
“Then whose is it?”
His eyes narrowed. “The bosses.”
Before Lark could ask who the bosses were, the garage door opened again. Two men walked inside. Bradley Whitmore. And Grant Calloway.
Wren’s entire expression changed. Hope flooded her face. “Bradley!” He looked at her. “Please.” Wren’s voice cracked. “You have to help us.”
Bradley stopped. Lark watched him carefully. Wren didn’t know. She didn’t know what Lark had learned. She didn’t know the connections that had been forming piece by piece until it had become impossible to ignore.
“Bradley,” Wren pleaded again. “Please untie us.”
Bradley looked at her for a long moment. Then he glanced toward Lark. Something in his expression made Lark’s blood turn colder. Not concern. Not surprise. Resignation. As though he’d been expecting her to figure things out eventually and he’d be responsible for tying up loose ends.
“I’m afraid,” he said quietly, “it’s not that simple.”
Wren stared at him. “What do you mean?”
Calloway moved farther into the room, removing his jacket with irritating calm. “Your sister has made things considerably more complicated than it needs to be for us.”
Lark’s heart pounded. She looked from Calloway to Bradley. “You’re involved this deeply.”
Bradley didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
Wren shook her head. “No.” She looked at Bradley again. “You wouldn’t do this.”
His expression softened almost imperceptibly. “Wren—”
“You’re going to help us. We’re supposed to get married.” Lark almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
Calloway glanced at Bradley. “You want to tell her?”
Bradley’s jaw tightened. “Not yet.”
Lark’s stomach dropped. Not yet. Not no. Not you’re wrong. Not this is a mistake. Not I’m getting you out.
Just two words that confirmed everything. Wren stared at him, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Bradley?”
He finally looked at her. “I’m sorry.”
Lark felt something inside her go very still. Whatever she’d once thought about Bradley Whitmore was dead. There was no misunderstanding. No elaborate explanation waiting around the corner. He knew. He was part of it.
Calloway smiled when he saw the confusion on Lark's face.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised, Lark. Surely you didn’t think Bradley wandered into this mess by accident.”
Bradley stiffened. “Calloway.”
“What?” Calloway’s smile turned mocking. “These lovely ladies deserved to know.”
Wren looked at Bradley. “What is he talking about?”
Bradley said nothing. Calloway gave a soft laugh. “Your fiancé didn’t have much of a choice in the beginning. His family had debts. Business problems. A few questionable decisions that could have become very inconvenient if the right people started asking questions.”
“That’s not—”
“Isn’t it?” Bradley fell silent. Calloway stepped closer to Lark. “By the time he realized exactly who he’d gotten into bed with, it was far too late. Money had changed hands. Contracts had been signed. Favors had been called in.”
Lark’s stomach twisted. “So he was working for you?”
“Initially? He was trying to protect his family.” Calloway glanced at Bradley. “Then he became useful.”
Bradley’s face hardened. “You don’t have to say any more.”
“Oh, I absolutely do.” Calloway’s smile disappeared. “You helped move the shipments. You approved the paperwork. You introduced me to people inside Whitmore Global Holdings who could make certain problems disappear.”
Lark stared at her ex. “Bradley…”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Calloway continued. “Now, he’s too deeply involved to walk away.” He crouched in front of Lark. “That’s the thing about this business. You don’t get to simply decide you’re finished.”
Lark felt sick. “You’re blackmailing him.”
“Blackmail is such an ugly word.” Calloway smiled. “I prefer leverage.” He stood and looked toward Bradley. “He knows exactly what happens if he stops cooperating.”
Bradley finally looked at Wren. For the first time, she saw something beneath his polished exterior. Fear. Real fear. And not just for himself. For Wren. Clearly, Calloway had been using her sister as some sort of motivator for Bradley.
And somehow, that made everything worse.
Calloway turned toward the other two men. “Leave us.”
The man from the island hesitated. “Sir?”
“You heard me.” He nodded and disappeared through the door.
The garage fell quiet. Calloway walked toward them. Lark fought the urge to shrink backward. He stopped directly in front of her. “You’ve been remarkably difficult to contain, Lark.”
She met his gaze. “I’ve caused worse problems.” All those mishaps she’d had where she blamed Murphy’s Law came to mind. But this side of it was seriously fucked.
His mouth curved. “I imagine you have.” He crouched again until they were at eye level. “You’ve uncovered things you were never supposed to see.”
Lark’s heart hammered. “What’s your point?”
His expression didn’t change. But Bradley’s did. Just slightly. Enough that Lark noticed.
Calloway noticed her noticing. “You really are observant.” Lark said nothing. Calloway stood. “Which is precisely why we have a problem.” He looked toward Bradley. “And problems, unfortunately, have to be solved.”
Wren began crying again. Lark forced herself to breathe. She had to stay calm. Had to think. Had to survive.
Because somewhere outside this garage, Cormac was looking for her. And she had to believe he would find her. She just couldn’t let these men know how much she believed it.