Betrayals of the Heart (21 page)

“Huh?” Nicholas said cocking his head to the side and staring up into the large man’s face.

“Never mind. Let’s get going then.”

Makayla watched the exchange as her son walked off with Ricky and gulped back the bile at the sight of his small form so close to the man she’d watched end lives as easily as he breathed. A million thoughts flooded her at once. None of which were good.

“Myka. This boy,” Steven said lifting his head in Nicholas’ direction as the pair passed through the glass door, Ricky right behind her son. “He yours and that filthy cop’s?”

The sound of her tormenter’s voice sent electrical shockwaves through her system. “Yes, but he’s not a cop.”

“Sure, he’s not.” Steven nodded, an eerie look in his eyes. He slid into the backseat without another word, his cell phone in one hand as if he were expecting a call, his other hand fishing out the cigarettes she hated so much. Closing her eyes, she forced the memories back of the pain always accompanied by those cancer sticks. Those physical scars would never heal.

Worry bit at her insides. Steven was so cruel. He didn’t differentiate between child and adult. How much did Steven know about Ryan? Did he have any idea he was the man who’d helped her escape that night at the airport?

The most burning question—had revealing this truth about Nicholas just signed her son’s death warrant?

Ryan’s head pounded in his skull. The thought of Steven laying a hand on either Makayla or Nicholas made his gut roll, not to mention his rage flare. If Michael wasn’t sitting next to him in the truck, he’d have let loose with a string of very inappropriate curses. For the boy’s sake, he kept his frustrations in check. The last thing he wanted was to react like Steven. He needed Michael to trust him now more than ever.

“What do you know about your father, Michael?” Ryan didn’t take his eyes off the road, couldn’t relax his fingers on the steering wheel as dread swirled the air. Steven held Ryan’s future, his treasures in life, tightly intertwined between his lethal fingers.

“Only that he’s the spawn of Satan. And I’m his son.” Michael cleared the knot from his throat and stiffened up, shifting his gaze to his lap.

Ryan’s breath caught. Michael’s pain filled words ricocheted off every nerve ending and pierced his heart.

“Michael, you’re nothing like your father. You haven’t a mean bone in your body.”

Michael hung his head lower. “But if you hadn’t stopped me back at the warehouse, I-I’d have killed him. I’d have shot my father in cold blood.” His tone cracked at the agonizing realization. “I wouldn’t have any regrets about it now either.”

The honesty of Michael’s words chilled Ryan to the bone. He peeled his left hand from the steering wheel, rubbing the back of his neck where the tension gathered.

“Sometimes we let our anger get in the way of our common sense. That doesn’t make us bad. You’re only fifteen. Have so much more to learn about life, about how to deal with people and problems.”

Ryan wanted to convince him the only thing he and Steven shared was a few genetics. Not behavior, not morals or spiritual beliefs, not the things that mattered in life. But he knew if Michael met Steven face to face, these facts would be hard to believe. Michael looked so damned much like Steven, Ryan often wondered how Makayla could look at her son without feeling resentment. A mother’s love for her child really did overshadow even the worst life had to offer.

“You have your entire life ahead of you. And your mom and brother will be there through it all.” His gut twisted. Making promises he wasn’t sure would be kept didn’t sit well with him.

Michael glanced in his direction, but Ryan couldn’t read his expression. The young man was fighting one hell of a battle—a battle against good and evil.

“Let’s focus our efforts on getting them back safely. Then we’ll deal with Steven.”

Michael nodded. But his face remained unreadable.

“Keep checking with Agent Harrington for the signal.”

“Signal? What kind of signal?”

“Don’t worry. We’ll know it when it comes.”

This was so not what Ricky signed up for all those years ago. Only a few weeks passed after he accepted Steven’s job offer before he realized his mistake. The large salary should have been his first clue that Steven’s business wasn’t on the up and up. But damn, he was young, needed cash fast to pay off a few not so lucky gambling debts. He was still paying for his greed.

Quitting or not showing up for work was not an option. Not after Steven made him his right hand man, let him in on horrifying secrets. Ricky knew all too well what Steven did to those who betrayed him and the family. Their little set-up was as close to a mob ring as you could get without actually being one.

Nicholas followed Ricky into the store and headed to the small restroom in the back corner under the sign labeled, RESTROOM. Ricky was glad the kid could read.

“You have to come,” a little voice said when Ricky stopped to look at the snack aisle.

“What?”

“You have to come.” Nicholas waved him toward him.

“Why?” Ricky growled.

“Because I’m only five, silly.”

“Are you kidding me?” Nope, this was not what he signed on for.

“No, I’m not kidding. You have to come too,” Nicholas said. Then the boy’s eyes raked over Ricky’s heavyset form as if he were assessing his strength or searching for something and Ricky didn’t like it. Not at all. Surely the kid wasn’t thinking about trying to take him on, or slip away? That last thought he hadn’t considered. With quick steps, he made his way over to Nicholas, scanning the store for exits just in case.

“Hurry up,” Ricky grunted, leaning against the wall where his phone made a loud whack.

Nicholas smiled.

“I’ll be right back.” The boy closed the door and Ricky had a bad feeling something weird was going on. When Nicholas emerged again, he was whistling. The sound grated on Ricky’s nerves like no tomorrow. He needed to make the nonsense stop before they went back to the car. Steven would blow a gasket for sure. “That good, huh?”

“No, silly. It stinks in there.” Nicholas held his nose and spun in a circle. On the second go around, the boy grabbed Ricky’s hand and pulled him with him. Then with a boyish giggle, he actually wrapped both chubby arms around Ricky’s waistline.

“Oh, no you don’t. No hugging. Ever. Now stop that!” Ricky huffed. “Pull yourself together, man. We don’t hug. Steven won’t put up with that stuff and neither will I.”

“Okay,” Nicholas said with a pout. “No fun. You’re no fun.” And with that said, the little rugrat took off skipping out of the small hallway and back into the main lobby of the store. Ricky stared after him in bewilderment, having to sprint out of the store without his snack to keep up.
Not happy. Not happy at all.

“Kids.” He mumbled under his breath. “Nothing but stinkin trouble.”

***

Makayla’s heart lurched the moment Nicholas skipped through the glass door. A huge grin spread over his face as he saw her and he bolted toward the car. Anxiety hung heavy in the air. She could barely breathe. Thankfully, the car helped her keep her balance. Her knees felt like jelly.

Where the heck was Ricky? What had Nicholas done?

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Myka?” Steven now stood on the outside of the car, looking over the door and trying to gather information from her profile.

She swallowed back the knot rising in her throat.
Pull it together. Don’t risk sparking Steven’s suspicions.

“You tell me, Steven. You’re the one in charge, right?” She lifted a defiant chin, goading him, and praying her attempt to shift his attention back on her wouldn’t set him off right then and there.

Steven’s brow twitched. A clear sign she’d overstepped a boundary. The tension stilled the air. She’d pay for this defiance in droves later. No doubt about it. But right now, his eagerness to gain control along with the mysterious grin easing over his lips worried her more. This was an expression she’d never seen before. One that sent sparks of uncertainty igniting a new attack of panic.

Steven tossed his cigarette to the ground and turned his back on her, stepping around the rear of the car to place himself between her and Nicholas.

Nicholas slowed his progress a few seconds, but didn’t stop completely. Makayla stood stiff and watched horrified as the man who’d tortured her for years bent down and embraced her youngest son. Her soul lurched within her body.

The rope on her wrists pinched and tore deeper gouges in her skin as she struggled to free herself. She needed to rescue Nicholas and get him as far away from Steven as possible. These feelings of helplessness and despair she’d felt way too many times before.

“Steven, please. Let him go.” The sound of her frightened voice brought back a flurry of memories. How many times had she made that plea only to have her faced slapped for the effort?

Steven picked Nicholas up, lifting him high above his head and holding him there as he turned around to face her. Her throat squeezed shut.

“What Myka? You want me to let him go? Now?” A deadly glint burned deep in Steven’s eyes. Testing him further would prove lethal. For Nicholas. She bit her bottom lip and held her tongue as Steven tickled Nicholas under the arms. Her son twitched and giggled. Each and every jerk was pure torture. He’d drop him with no second thought. Steven never made threats he wouldn’t keep.

She drew in a deep breath to steady her voice. “No, Steven. Please, don’t.” The risks were too great. She bowed her head in defeat. This is what Steven loved, what he lived for, the ability to manipulate others as essential to his existence as the air he breathed. The only way he planned to let Nicholas go would lead to devastating consequences.

“Smart move, beautiful. I’d really like to get to know this little guy better.” He turned his attention back to Nicholas, who now remained ramrod stiff high above Steven’s head. The look engraved on her sweet little boy’s face tore her apart. He was so afraid.

“Whatcha say, Nick ol’ buddy. Shall we hit the road?”

Makayla met Nicholas’ gaze only long enough to watch the fear and alarm on his tiny facial features spread like wildfire to the rest of his body. She couldn’t help him. The fact tore deep gouges in her gut like sharp blades of glass. The best thing for her son right now would be her silence and their complete cooperation with Steven’s wishes.

If she could do this all over again, she would have stayed put. Or at least had McCoy tag along with her. Ryan trusted his friend. He wasn’t a part of the FBI’s investigation. She shouldn’t have gone off on her own. Another stupid mistake.

She dared a glance at Steven, trying her best to keep not only the tears back but her anger as well.

“Get in the car,” Steven growled. He brought Nicholas down and carried him under his arm like a football.

Swallowing down a thick knot at the base of her throat, she eased her numb body down onto the seat and sat quietly. Cruel laughter echoed through her skull as she listened to the sounds of Steven placing Nicholas in the back seat with him.

Turning just enough to see Nicholas, she watched him. He was beyond scared now. His eyes, usually filled with that mischievous glint, were very close to tears as he scurried to the opposite side of the car the minute Steven released him.
Hold it together, little man. Just for a few more hours.
They’d stop again. Steven needed time to reorganize and make sure the passage back to his estate would go exactly as he planned. She knew from experience, he wouldn’t waltz into the hands of the enemy without having the upper hand.

Ricky arrived at the car several minutes later, looking pretty frazzled. At first Makayla thought he was just hungry. Again. But his puzzled expression, along with the sweat on his brow, told her he hadn’t found what he was looking for on his quick trip back into the store. And whatever “it” was, was extremely important.

He walked past her door and shoved it closed, a curse on the tip of his tongue. Then he made his way around the front of the car to the driver’s side where he plunked his heavy body behind the wheel and gripped the steering wheel so tightly she thought he’d crack the plastic.

Very interesting,
she thought
.
What on earth was wrong with him? She studied his actions as his gaze swept the interior of the car, before he leaned over and popped open the glove compartment. When he slammed the door closed, she jumped. Then he proceeded to feel around under the seat. Not finding what he was searching for, his eyes took a slow determined track over her entire frame. She wanted nothing more than to slap him at that moment. Sleazebag.

“Need to tell me something?” He locked her in a death gaze.

Whatever disgusting thoughts usually hovered in his pea-sized brain were not there now. His brow rose in an accusing fashion. Did this idiot think she had what he was looking for or was this just a new form of intimidation?

“What?” She sat up straighter, her throat dry.