CHAPTER ELEVEN #2
Sam breathed hard, watching him go. He was really good at cover-ups, she decided, and this was another one.
He was on edge, no doubt about it, and she didn’t blame him.
She didn’t care what he said, she was not letting him go up against one of his captors alone.
So when it came to the page, they were rivals, but when it came to the monk and Hemmer, they were allies.
If he didn’t think so, it was tough luck.
And if he intended to sell the page and walk away, that was okay, too.
She’d take down the bad guys by herself.
He was almost at the elevators. She glanced at the media room. She couldn’t leave that video in Hemmer’s hands. She didn’t want him using it against Ian, not in any way.
She didn’t want Ian to know about it, either.
He suddenly halted and faced her. “I’m not leaving you here. Let’s go,” he ordered.
To hide her concern, she mocked, “But you don’t care about my welfare.”
His eyes blazed. “Let’s go, Sam.”
She somehow smiled. “I have some unfinished work to do. I’ll catch up with you in a few hours. Maybe I’ll even jump into the sack with you…lucky guy.”
His gaze narrowed.
She blocked her thoughts, even though she was beginning to think he wasn’t all that good at mind reading. “I work at night, remember?”
His gaze veered behind her, at the media room. “What are ye up to?”
She wet her lips. “Hemmer has a collection of sex tapes. He’s got the one you saw and he might have others, featuring yours truly.”
Ian’s eyes widened. She felt his interest change.
“Like hell,” she said softly. “Take a hike. This is my business, and I’ll catch up with you later. Promise.”
Instead of going out the door, he approached. “You’re lying. I can feel it. While ye might be mad that Hemmer has seen ye with yer other lovers, ye wouldn’t stay here, in jeopardy, to get the tapes. What’s in the room?”
A terribly graphic image of the swinging cage assailed her before she could stop the recollection. It was followed by that male hand with the gold signet ring, reaching for the padlocked door.
Clearly, the image was so powerful that Ian saw it, too. He blanched another time. Briefly, he was speechless. He choked, “Ye saw a boy in a cage?”
“No, I didn’t see any cage! What are you talking about?”
He seized her. “What did ye see?”
“It was Hemmer,” she cried. “I’m sorry! It was just an old, grainy video, maybe from the sixties or seventies. It was just a cage, swinging in the night. Ian, it’s okay!”
He was almost green as he released her.
Sam seized him. “Are you going to faint?”
He looked at her with horror. “He has a video…of me in the cage.”
Sam kept a tight grip on him. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen someone as shocked. “Ian, it was really out of focus and it was only a cage and—”
He shook her off and cut her off. “What did ye see?” he roared.
She cringed inwardly. “Just a boy!”
“Ye saw me!”
She wanted to cry. She thought her eyes felt moist. She slowly nodded. “No one would ever be able to tell that it was you,” she tried.
“You could tell!”
Sam took his hand. He flung her off. “C’mon! You have a really rotten past. I know it—you know it. Damn it, no one else should know it—I agree with you. But this is real life. Life isn’t fair. Others know it, too. Hemmer showed me the one clip. I’m sorry.”
Ian stormed past her, into the media room. “How many tapes of me does he have?”
She followed. “I have no idea. Did you know they were taping…you?”
He paused when he was inches from the big screen. He was trembling wildly now. “I can’t do this,” he suddenly said, not turning.
She did not like the sound of that.
He did not look at her. “I’m going to sell the page today.”
Her stomach churned with dread. She sensed where he was going. “Ian.”
“No. I don’t have yer courage. I never have.”
She wet her lips. “That’s so unfair. What you’ve been through—”
He cut her off. “Let it be, Sam. I’m taking the money and leaving.”
She breathed hard. He was running away. Even though she’d never run from a fight in her life, she understood with her heart and her soul why his instinct was to run. Now was not the time to argue or point out the many instances of bravery she’d witnessed. She kept silent.
He ejected the DVD and faced her, his eyes blazing with hatred and fear now. “So this is goodbye.” His mouth curled. “Unless ye want to come home with me because ye owe me a thank you. In which case, I expect sex. Not talking, not questions an’ not pity. Just fucking.”
It was hard to be flip now. “Wow, you have a way with words. I can’t wait to go home with you.”
He pushed past her.
It was probably one of the worst instincts she’d ever had, but she did not want him to go back to that Park Avenue mansion alone, especially not with that video in his hand.
Sam fought herself. She wasn’t Tabby. She didn’t know how to nurture or comfort.
She knew how to fight; she knew how to get a guy laid.
But maybe it was time to learn how to comfort. Because Ian Maclean was in pain.
Sam followed him out.
AS THEY ENTERED Maclean’s Park Avenue home, the silence instantly disturbed Sam. Even though he lived alone with the butler, the house should have felt different. But it felt dark and empty, vacant—like a gaping hole in the universe.
Ian had been brooding darkly the entire drive uptown. He’d driven his Escalade recklessly, as if he didn’t care if they crashed into another vehicle. Maybe the silence and his distress were just getting to her.
He’d used the key code to get in. The huge door closed behind them. Sam felt her gut churn with unease. “It’s too quiet. Something’s wrong,” she said. “The vibe here has changed.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he snapped. He gave her a cool look. “Ye know where my bedroom is. Why don’t ye go up and get comfortable?”
If she didn’t know how upset he was about the video, she’d have called him on that unbelievable remark. “You need a drink. So do I. And Maclean? You might want to be nice for about a second, because I didn’t come back here to do you. The jury’s still out.”
He strode down the hall, leaving her standing alone by the front door.
He was in a helluva mood, she thought. She probably didn’t have to worry about whether to go to bed with him or not. That video had dampened his desire, and his reaction to it had certainly dampened hers.
She did not want to know what else was on that tape.
There were three floors in the town house. Maclean was going up the stairs, forgoing the elevator. Now that she knew he was claustrophobic, she was not surprised. She slowly followed. “Maybe we can ask Gerard to bring us something to eat,” she said on the stairs.
He vanished at the second landing.
Sam glanced around, wondering where the butler was. Unease was slithering down her spine now. She saw an intercom by the top of the stairs on the landing, and she quickly pressed the starred button. “Gerard?”
When there was no answer, she tried the rest of the buttons, indicating other rooms, but Gerard did not answer. Her unease escalated. Maybe Ian had given him the night off.
She went down the dark, barely lit hall and found Maclean in a large theatre, the DVD in his hand.
She paused on the threshold of the burgundy room. “You don’t need to watch that.”
He faced her. “Wait for me upstairs.”
“We’re not doing the deed. We’re going to have a drink, eat something, and think about how to confront Hemmer and the monk,” she said firmly. Then she heard herself. She sounded like her sister!
“I invited ye here fer sex. If ye don’t want to go upstairs, then get out.” He marched to the entertainment center and jammed his hand on the DVD player. The tray opened.
“Why are you doing this?” Sam cried.
“Fuck off,” he snarled. “Ye saw it, didn’t ye?” He jammed the DVD into the tray.
He was out of control. Did he want to inflict more pain on himself? She was determined to stop him.
The screen brightened.
Sam cursed. She strode forward and wrenched the remote from his hand. His eyes widened in shock.
“What will revisiting your past accomplish? Two very evil and powerful beings are out there, and we’ve both been threatened. Sitting here and wallowing in what they did to you won’t help us fight back. We need to prepare, and we need to call in backup.”
He seized her wrist, so brutally Sam was shocked. For one moment, she thought he’d snap her bones.
But he didn’t. “Get out,” he said fiercely. “Get out now. There is no ‘we,’ Sam. There is no ‘us.’ So just get out and leave me alone.”
Sam breathed hard, almost blinded by the pain of his grasp—or was it the pain she suddenly saw in his eyes? She nodded. He released her. She didn’t hesitate. She handed him the remote.
“You’re right. There is no ‘us.’ I’ve been feeling sorry for you, and I’ve lost sight of the fact that you’re a selfish jerk.
Because even though you came back to Hemmer’s to help me out today, none of this would be happening if you weren’t one greedy bastard.
If you gave Nick the page, it would be over.
The demon monk and Hemmer would have to attack CDA and the entire United States government to get it, and we’d be out of the picture. ”
He pressed Play.
“So go ahead, self-flagellate.”
He ignored her.
She almost stayed to watch him, as he watched himself being tortured in the past. But what would that accomplish?
She wasn’t Tabby. And he didn’t want comfort anyway.
He seemed to want to suffer. He was a wounded tiger in a cage, and right now, he was dangerous.
Her wrist still hurt from the way he’d manhandled her.
She didn’t know whether he was going to implode or explode, but a cataclysm felt imminent.
She hurried from the room as the clawing sounds began. In the hallway she halted, so tense she was ill. She hated what he was doing to himself now.
Hemmer might be human, but he was evil, and he had to go. That probably wouldn’t be a problem. The monk, on the other hand, was worrisome.