Badlands (20 page)

The hiding place he found was just a dip in the ground, like a natural fort. Unfortunately, there was a murky orange puddle on the other side. Scientists said the color of the water reflected algae, not chemical pollution or human waste, but it looked nasty. He lowered himself into the lukewarm cesspool, watched the picnic table and waited.

His thoughts turned to Penny, to the night they’d shared. After his painful confession and humiliating crying jag, he’d felt pretty low. He’d wanted to stay strong for her, to protect her and comfort her. He’d let his guard down instead, sobbing like a baby, and she hadn’t seemed fazed. Upset and saddened, but not disgusted.

She’d still found him attractive. She’d kissed him and rubbed against him and begged him to touch her.

He’d studied her for signs of sincerity, wondering if she was throwing him a pity bone. The desire in her eyes seemed genuine, and her physical responses...God. She couldn’t fake being wet. He didn’t think she’d exaggerated the moans and gasps of pleasure. If anything, she’d been trying to stay quiet. Owen couldn’t believe how easy it had been to get her off, or how satisfied he’d felt after pleasing her. Twice.

He’d brought her to climax
twice
.

The fact that he’d come all over her from less than a minute of stimulation was a little embarrassing, but she hadn’t seemed to mind that, either. Maybe next time—if there was a next time—he could do her right. He wanted to kiss her for hours and get inside her, with his fingers and tongue and cock.

The stirrings of arousal made it difficult for him to concentrate on surveillance, so he focused on the present. This was no place for sexual fantasies. He was lying on his belly in a puddle of foul-smelling muck.

He’d be lucky to get out of this situation alive. There would be a media shit storm no matter what happened. Penny might not want to continue their relationship. He could face criminal charges.

Taking shallow breaths, he stared at the powerboat in the distance. It was docked and ready to go. The sun beat down with relentless heat, burning the back of his neck, his hairline, the tips of his ears.

Finally Jorge Sandoval arrived in his modified SUV. The windows were tinted, the body bulletproof. There could be six FBI agents crouched in the back.

“He’s here,” Owen said into the radio.

“Is he alone?”

Owen couldn’t tell. Sandoval got out of the driver’s seat, hefting a large duffel bag. “Looks like it.”

With cautious steps, Sandoval approached the picnic table. He found the walkie-talkie Shane had left there and lifted it. “Hello?”

“Do you have the money?” Shane asked.

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Two million, unmarked. Just like you said.”

“Take off your clothes and put them on the table. Leave everything there. Your keys, wallet, phone, clothes.”

Even from far away, Owen could read Sandoval’s reluctance. He was a former governor, for Christ’s sake. He didn’t want to strip naked in public. But he mumbled an affirmation and set the radio aside. With efficient motions, he kicked off his shiny shoes, unbuttoned his shirt and removed his expensive trousers. When he was standing in socks and boxer shorts, he picked up the radio again. “Now what?”

“Did he do it?” Shane asked Owen.

“Yes.”

“Get in the boat and go south. Bring the money and the radio. I’ll give you the exact coordinates in a minute.”

Sandoval climbed into the powerboat with the duffel bag. The keys were in the ignition. He started it and drove away from the launch area, as instructed. Owen stared at the SUV on the shore, detecting no movement. Maybe Sandoval really
had
come alone. Maybe he hadn’t contacted the authorities at all.

It seemed impossible. More likely, there was an entire task force nearby, and they were a lot better at hiding than he was.

Owen got up and started running, heedless of being followed. If police officers or members of Sandoval’s security team were in the SUV, they might see him, but they couldn’t catch him. He was fast.

Shane was waiting for him with Penny at the ruins of the yacht club, where he’d hidden their dad’s boat. They’d ducked behind the crumbling concrete wall. Penny’s mouth was tense, her face pinched with fear.

“Did you see any cops?” Shane asked.

“No,” Owen said. “Where’s the Jeep?”

Shane ignored the question. “Help me with the trailer.”

Together, they pushed it into the water. Then Shane pulled the gun from his waistband. Not pointing it at him, just holding it. “Give me the walkie-talkie.”

Owen gave it to him.

He tossed it into the boat. “Now cuff yourself to the trailer.”

Owen glanced down, noting that one of the handcuffs was already attached to the front end. The other hung loose, ready for him to snap it on his wrist. Shane wanted to make him stay here on the shore. “No.”

Shane grabbed Penny by the crook of the arm and jammed the barrel against her ribs. “Do it.”

“You’re not going to shoot her before the exchange.”

“I won’t kill her,” Shane countered.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt her.”

“No, I said you could kill me if I did. I’d rather not, but the choice is yours. Do you want to fight me now and risk her safety? Or do you want to shut the fuck up and wait here while I deliver her to her father?”

Clenching his jaw, Owen put the cuff on.

“That’s what I thought,” Shane said.

Penny tried to jerk her arm from Shane’s grasp. When he held tight, she cursed him in Spanish.

“Speak English,” he reminded her.

“Fuck you.”

He laughed in approval and let her go. With a strangled sob, she threw her arms around Owen’s neck and pressed her lips to his, kissing him desperately. Not caring that Shane had orchestrated this scene, Owen kissed her back with the same fervor, dipping his tongue into her mouth.

“Break it up,” Shane said, clearing his throat. “Jesus, you two are like a couple of teenagers.”

Penny released Owen with reluctance, returning to Shane’s side. He holstered the gun and secured her arms behind her back with duct tape. Then he lifted her into the boat, climbed inside, and pushed away from the shore. The ignition started the first try.

“Do me a favor,” he shouted above the roar of the engine. “Say goodbye to Mom and Jamie for me. Tell them...tell them I love them.”

Owen sank to a sitting position on the shore, devastated.

“Will you do it?”

“No,” he yelled back in a hoarse voice, but it was a lie. He held Penny’s gaze until she disappeared into the blue.

CHAPTER TWENTY

J
ANELLE
WOKE
WITH
A
START
.

She lifted her head, disoriented. Her wrists were still bound, her right shoulder stiff from leaning on it. Sometime during the long, terrifying night, she’d fallen asleep in the passenger seat of the stranger’s pickup. He’d given her a balled-up sweatshirt to use as a pillow. The fabric smelled of motor oil, Marlboros and male deodorant. She straightened, glancing around. The stranger wasn’t in the cab.

Janelle reached for the door handle with numb fingers. When it didn’t work, she remembered the door was locked. She scooted across the seat and tried the driver’s side door, her mind sluggish from sleep. It swung open, and she tumbled out, falling on her hands and knees in the dusty gravel.

“Going somewhere?”

The stranger was standing nearby, facing a concrete wall. Before turning toward her, he made a shaking motion and zipped up his pants.

Heart racing, she searched for an escape route. It was early morning. They were in Bombay Beach, a local ghost town. Other than the run-down motel and a bunch of condemned buildings, there was nothing out here.

She had nowhere to run. And she couldn’t actually get up. “I’ll scream,” she said in a tremulous voice.

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tears welled in her eyes, and blood trickled down her shin. She didn’t make a sound. When he stepped forward to help her to her feet, she said, “I have to pee.”

“Go ahead.”

She unbuttoned her shorts with trembling hands. He averted his gaze, as if he hadn’t already seen the goods, while she squatted down. After she was done, she stood, pulling her shorts and panties up.

He lifted her back into the cab and pushed her across the seat. Climbing behind the wheel, he slammed the door and shook two cigarettes out of the pack, giving her one. She put the end in her mouth and leaned toward the flame of his lighter to spark it.

The stranger didn’t want sex. That much was clear. He’d made no attempt to touch her, harm her, or humiliate her. Maybe he would keep her as his domestic slave, or get her hooked on drugs and turn her into a prostitute.

Whatever his intentions, he was a sick fuck. She could tell by the way he just sat there, smoking. And by the way he twisted off the cap from a bottle of water before offering her a sip. Only a deeply disturbed individual could remain so calm and polite, as if he wasn’t planning to hack her up with a chain saw.

He stared at the Jeep in the parking lot, saying nothing.

It occurred to her, somewhat belatedly, that he knew the person inside the motel room. The stranger might have stolen her to fulfill another man’s perverse appetites. What were they waiting for? Why didn’t he hand over the goods?

She watched the motel door with increasing anxiety. Finally, a man came out. “Shane,” she breathed, recognizing him on sight. He had the same bad-boy swagger, with bigger muscles and longer hair.

This was all about Shane, she realized. The stranger was after him, not her.

Leaving the door open, Shane grabbed a bag from the back of the Jeep. Then he walked back inside the motel room.

“Does he owe you money?” she asked.

The stranger didn’t answer.

“If you think you can get revenge on him by hurting me, you’re wrong. He doesn’t care about me.”

“Is there someone else he cares about?”

Her stomach dropped. Did he mean Jamie? “No.”

“I know where your son is,” he said. “I followed you Saturday night, too. You went to your mother’s house.”

“Don’t you dare touch my son,” she growled, ready to claw his eyes out. “I will rip your goddamned face off.”

He smiled at this warning, a bit sadly.

The fact that he hadn’t kidnapped her for deviant sexual purposes didn’t ease her fears. Shane wouldn’t bail her out. He wasn’t capable of unselfish actions. She could have endured another rape, or survived years locked in a dungeon. But counting on
Shane
to save her? That was laughable.

“You want something from Shane,” she said, “and you’re holding me hostage until you get it.”

“Yes.”

“Does he know what you want?”

“Of course.”

“Are you sure he has it?”

“He doesn’t have it yet. That’s why we’re waiting.”

“What if he can’t get it?”

“Then he’d better hope the police find him before I do.”

“What if he gets it but doesn’t give it to you?”

“He dies.”

A chill traveled up her spine, because she believed him. She was afraid to ask what he’d do to her in that case. If this man was going to kill her, he wouldn’t tell her about it. And she wouldn’t believe him if he said otherwise.

Janelle wasn’t interested in the details of whatever deal Shane had made with this devil. She only knew that her ex wasn’t dependable. He was cocky and charming, fairly good in bed, but useless in all other things. He wouldn’t hold up his end of the bargain. So she had to negotiate a release on her own terms.

Or at least give herself some...wiggle room.

She studied the stranger once again. He was attractive in a rough-edged way, his skin coarsely tanned. She pegged him as a former drug user as well as an ex-con, though he looked strong and clear-eyed now. He’d probably grown up poor in this area or a similar community. Janelle knew a desert rat when she saw one.

Beneath the harsh exterior, he seemed hollow. But he hadn’t been disrespectful in the VIP room, and he hadn’t forced himself on her. She was almost certain he’d declined her offer for a blow job because he didn’t believe she
wanted to.

Maybe if she was more convincing, he’d weaken. She had no other tools at her disposal, no weapons but sex.

“Why did you come into the club?” she asked.

“Why not?”

“You already knew who I was.”

“I wanted to make sure.”

“And you needed a lap dance to identify me?”

“No,” he said. “I identified you while we were discussing your...price. Then it seemed rude to walk away.”

She shook her head, feigning insult. “Wow.”

“What?”

“I’ve never had a pity customer.”

“I didn’t feel sorry for you, honey. You’re hot, and I was curious. Pity doesn’t make a man’s dick hard.”

Biting her lower lip, she let her gaze slide down to his crotch.

He looked from her mouth to the motel room door and back again. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“Just spare me the stripper bullshit. You’re a lot more appealing as yourself.”

She’d been too obvious. Cheeks heating with shame, she looked away. Fake-horny was the only card she knew how to play, and now she was out of ideas. She should have asked him about himself, warmed him up a little. It wasn’t like she’d never worked a mark before. Fear had made her clumsy.

He
wasn’t
stupid.

After a tense silence, the motel room door opened again. A dark-haired young woman Janelle recognized as Penny Sandoval stepped out. Owen followed, his hands cuffed in front. Shane didn’t seem to catch sight of the black truck in the distance. It was disguised among palm trees and piles of rubble.

“Who’s that, his brother?”

Janelle didn’t answer.

“Doesn’t look like he’s in on it.”

In on what? she wondered. “He wouldn’t be involved in anything illegal.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. I know him.”

He squinted at her. “How well?”

“Well enough.”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

She gave him a dirty look. “He’s my son’s uncle.”

“He’s not
your
uncle.”

“I’m not sleeping with him.”

“And he’s a straight arrow, you say?”

“Yes.”

He made a noncommittal sound.

“What?”

“Looks like you picked the wrong brother to have a kid with.”

True or not, the observation stung. She regretted getting mixed up with a loser and becoming a teen mother, but she loved Jamie to pieces. Her son was perfect and innocent. Without Shane, she wouldn’t have Jamie. “Don’t talk about my son.”

The stranger followed Shane’s vehicle away from the motel, keeping several deserted city blocks between them. They entered the Salton Sea State Recreation Area. Shane left Owen there and headed back to Bombay Beach, parking the Jeep among the ruins of an old playground. He got out and walked across the bone-scattered beach with Penny, a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

“She’s his prisoner,” Janelle guessed. She’d never met Penny Sandoval, but she’d watched the recent television interview with interest. Penny was beautiful and smart and rich. She wouldn’t go anywhere with Shane by choice. “He’s ransoming her to her father.”

“Do you know her?”

“No.”

The stranger parked behind a ripped canvas billboard, close enough to keep an eye on the Jeep without being noticed.

“Now what?” Janelle asked.

“We wait.”

* * *

P
ENNY
SAT
ON
the aluminum bench in the middle of the boat, her heart pounding.

Owen knelt in the crushed bones on the beach and watched them speed away. She held his gaze as long as possible, terrified she’d never see him again.

Shane puttered around the Salton Sea until he found the right spot to do the money exchange. Then he looked up the coordinates on his GPS radio and gave them to her father. They settled in, waiting for him to arrive.

Penny felt Shane watching her. She didn’t want to look at him or speak to him. She wanted to close her eyes and think of Owen, to touch her fingertips to her lips and replay their goodbye kiss.

Last night, she’d been so full of unfamiliar feelings. The intimate contact had caused something to shift inside her, revealing a hidden bud she hadn’t known was there. This morning, it had blossomed, spreading throughout her chest.

She was in love with Owen.

She was in love with him.

She loved him.

Penny wasn’t sure if she’d felt this way all along, and their frantic groping had broken down her inhibitions, or if the connection they’d always shared had deepened little by little, growing exponentially in the past few days.

How unfair it was to realize this now, after they’d parted. She should have known earlier, whispered it to him in the shower. She hoped that Shane wouldn’t cause some terrible tragedy before she had the chance to tell Owen.

Tears blurred her vision as she studied their surroundings. The Salton Sea wasn’t ugly up close, and it only smelled bad on the shore. Out in the middle, its surface was like a blue mirror, shimmering with hidden depths.

“My brother’s in love with you,” Shane said.

She turned her gaze to him, surprised. “Did he tell you that?”

“He didn’t have to.”

Her pulse jumped, and she glanced away, uncomfortable. Shane bore an uncanny resemblance to Owen, only his good looks hid a black interior. She assumed his reason for starting this conversation was to needle her, and she resented being pushed around by him, physically and emotionally.

“Are you toying with him?” Shane asked.

“No.”

“Some rich girls like to go slumming.”

“I’m not slumming.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Then we disagree on the definition. Slumming is hanging out with someone from a lower social class just for kicks.”

“I think it means dating a guy you wouldn’t introduce to daddy.”

“My father already knows Owen.”

“Does he know you’re fucking him?”

She fell silent, refusing to answer. Then she said, “You’re breaking his heart, you know. He can’t help but love you.”

Shane paused for a moment, weighing her words. “He might love me, but he doesn’t expect anything from me. I’m a worthless bastard. You’re his dream girl. He got a taste of you, and now he’s done for. He’s so whipped on you, he thinks your pussy’s the pathway to heaven. You’ll crush him.”

She flushed at his crude language. “He doesn’t believe he’s good enough for me.”

“He’s wrong,” Shane said, staring across the sea. “I got all the bad in the family. He’s as good as gold, always has been.”

Penny didn’t like Shane, but she could appreciate his sincerity. “Let’s make a deal. I won’t hurt him if you won’t.”

He studied her face, seeming to be conflicted. Although he didn’t agree to uphold his end of the bargain, she got the impression that he wanted to. Maybe he didn’t trust himself to follow through on any promises.