Chapter 17 #2
I’ll make sure it’s their last mistake.
The first thing Lena became aware of was the pain in her neck. The second was the pounding in her head.
Her eyes opened slowly, and for several seconds, she couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. Everything was blurry, and a dull ache throbbed incessantly behind her eyes. She tried to move and immediately discovered . . . she couldn’t.
Lena glanced down to find her wrists were secured behind her to the back of a metal folding chair. Her ankles were bound in place to each of the chair’s legs.
She tested each restraint carefully, not wanting whoever had tied her up to know she was awake. The plastic ties at her wrists bit into her skin, and she took a moment to think.
Her throat worked against the dryness as she forced herself to take in every detail she could. The room was small. Windowless. Concrete walls had long ago been painted a dull gray.
One long, fluorescent overhead light buzzed above her, and there was a metal door directly in front of where she sat. That was it. Just her in the middle of the room, tied to a chair.
Her head throbbed harder when she tried to remember what had happened.
I was at the coffee shop with the girls. Alice, Evie, Nicki, Alex, and Avery had all been there.
Alice.
She’d been calling for Lena. No, she’d been screaming her name. A flash of a memory came back with a painful throb.
The SUV.
Two men had jumped out of it. They’d attacked her, and she’d fought back. But then—
The needle.
Lena remembered being dragged into the SUV. She’d been hit and drugged as Alice had run frantically toward her. And then another memory struck. This one bringing with it a massive, heartbreaking blow.
Roger.
Her former boss and mentor. A trusted friend. He was the one who’d been driving the van.
Lena had only seen his eyes, but she knew them almost as well as she knew her own. When it came to her job, the man had taught her everything she knew.
It didn’t make sense that he’d be involved in anything like this. Roger was a good, decent man.
Everyone has a price, Price.
Her heart sank as she accepted that to be true. It was an unfortunate reality, not just in her world but all over. And for whatever reason, Roger had decided to switch teams.
Lena’s thoughts turned to another man, and her heart ached for a different reason. Rafe must be out of his mind with worry. Alice would have called him immediately to let him know what had happened.
She would have turned to him and the team for help.
Her eyes fell shut for a moment as she thought about what the man she loved was going through. He’d be furious. Probably find some way to blame himself. But then, he’d start to plan.
Rafe would come for her. There wasn’t a doubt in Lena’s mind. He’d go to the ends of the earth to save her if he could.
The thought should have brought comfort. Instead, it terrified her. Because she knew Rafe would walk straight into hell if it meant saving her from whatever this was.
But if these people—whoever they were—knew anything about the kind of man Rafe Owens was, they’d know that, too. And they’d most likely be ready.
Her breaths quickened with fear for her man.
Lena forced herself to slow it down. Panicking was useless. A complete waste of time and energy. She needed to think.
There had to be a way out, but her status didn’t bode well for much hope. Perhaps the person who’d ordered her kidnapping could be useful.
If he wanted information, maybe there was something she knew. If he wanted money, she could easily find a way to get it. But this didn’t feel like any of those things.
The door she was facing opened, and Lena immediately grew still. One of the men from the SUV was just outside, standing guard.
She could only see his profile, but it was enough. Black clothes. No mask. The guy was mid-thirties with broad shoulders and hard eyes.
He remained in the hallway while another man slowly walked into the room. Lena studied him closely. He, too, appeared to be in his mid-thirties. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Clean-cut. Nice clothes.
At first glance, he looked like the kind of man who belonged in a neighborhood barbecue, not a windowless room after kidnapping the CIA’s Director of Special Crimes and Operations.
There was something familiar about him, but Lena couldn’t quite place it. He stopped several feet from where she sat.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
The man’s lips curled into a low smile. “I’m Henry Stanton. It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Agent Price.”
“It’s Director.” She glared, but then her head tilted slightly to the side. “Stanton.” Her throbbing mind reached back to why she knew that name. “As in former Senator Michael Stanton?”
Henry nodded. “My father.”
Lena’s blood ran cold.
Ah, hell.
The pieces slammed together. Most of them, anyway. Enough to make her understand how much trouble she was in. And Rafe—
Oh, God!
This was all about him. And Amanda, Rafe’s first wife. The woman Henry’s father had killed.
“Your father is a murderer,” she spat. “He shot Amanda Owens in the head because she found out he was dirty.”
And poor six-year-old Alice had been asleep just down the hall.