Deadly Sins (35 page)

If she had, would she have still been alive?

“This is crazy,” Logan muttered as he started up a back road onto Crowe’s property, lights off and the four-wheel traction tearing into the dirt of the incline. “God, Skye, if something happened to you—”

“Stop; don’t borrow trouble,” she warned him as she held Bella close now, rather than the gun. “We’re in this together, and I wouldn’t be anywhere else right now.”

He could hear the truth in her voice, hear the determination and the love of life, the love of him, that echoed in the declaration.

But it didn’t change what they were facing, and it didn’t change the fact that without her, he doubted he’d even want to fight any longer.

She was the reason he hadn’t taken the suicide assignments in the small unit he’d been a part of. She was the reason he’d fought, daily, to find a reason to fight for an inheritance that had brought nothing but blood and death. She was the reason he lived; it was that simple.

“We’re heading into Crowe’s now,” Logan told her long minutes later as the truck bounced onto a smoother, though no less narrow path leading to the top of the mountain. “We cut these paths onto the mountain ourselves; to make sure we had access other than the main road.”

Their lives were such a daily fight for survival in this county that they couldn’t even trust using the main road to enter or leave one of their homes.

The thought of the lives they’d lived since they were no more than babies, before and after their parents’ deaths, broke her heart.

Logan had had no one, and now she knew he was second-guessing the decision to allow her into his life.
Not that he’d had much choice,
she thought smugly.

But perhaps they’d both lost themselves to such an extent that they had made the same mistake his parents had.

She pressed her hand unobtrusively to her stomach, knowing the chances that she’d conceived were high. Neither of them had enough control once they touched to even think about protection or the danger their lives would bring to a child.

All Skye could think about when she thought about a baby was whether it would look more like Logan or her. A boy or a girl? And seeing Logan’s joy in the pup Skye had seen forced into his life, she wondered how much more joy he would find in a baby.

The Callahans hadn’t known a lot of happiness in their lives. It had been one battle after another, one fierce fight to survive after another. Adapting to a measure of peace would be a pleasant change for them.

“We’re going to beat this.” She turned to him as she glimpsed the lights of Crowe’s house through the trees in the distance. “You watch, Logan. We’ll beat this. And when it’s over, we’ll have all the things we’ve both lost out on in our lives.”

He reached over, his hand gripping hers, before he turned and placed a gentle kiss against her palm. The warmth of his lips, the feel of them, sent a wave of heat that wasn’t entirely sexual rushing through her.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he warned her.

“You do that.” She smiled back at him despite the tightening in her stomach, the instinctive primal warning that it wasn’t over yet. “You’ll see. We’re going to make it.”

Pulling into Crowe’s drive, Logan slammed the truck into park before turning to her. “Leave Bella in here until we see if that wolf bitch has made an appearance again. Crowe’s been expecting her any day to return to have her pups. Bella would make a nice little snack.”

The pup was silent, unusually so. Perhaps she could feel the presence of the wolf, probably just waiting and licking her chops at the thought of a nice little Bella treat, Skye thought in amusement.

Tucking a faded blanket Logan had folded and lain along the back of the seat against the pup, Skye opened the door and hurriedly jumped out.

She tucked the Glock in the back of her jeans, pulling her shirt out over it before meeting Logan at the front of the truck and moving quickly to the opened door.

They moved too quickly.

Perhaps if they had walked slower, if they’d paid more attention—

Regret slammed into Logan as he and Skye stepped inside and they both came to a resounding stop.

“Close the door, please.” The voice was rough, guttural; was obviously disguising it, but it didn’t matter. If the gun pointing at them was any indication, then they might not need to worry about his identity.

He wasn’t very tall, barely six feet, if that tall. He was broad, though, a little on the heavy side. And there was something vaguely familiar about the set of his shoulders.

She couldn’t see his eyes; a mask covered his face and dark sunglasses covered his eyes.
Most attackers with the intent to kill didn’t bother hiding their identities,
she thought as she felt herself slipping automatically into the skin she’d been trained to use when facing danger.

At his feet, Crowe was sprawled, unconscious, his hands secured behind his back with heavy nylon restraints and again at his feet. The back of his head was wet, and blood had dripped to the floor.

For one horrified second Skye thanked God she and Logan had left Bella in the truck.

“Logan, don’t make me shoot you.” The gun suddenly snapped in Logan’s direction as he moved to stand in front of her. “Now, we can do this easy, or we can do this the hard way. The hard way means all of you die. The easy way means you live.”

“What do you want?” Logan’s voice was pure death. The rasp, the utterly controlled, even sound, of it sent a shiver down Skye’s back.

“Just a few things.” The gunman gestured to the computer still running at Crowe’s desk. “I won’t be much longer.”

Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he pulled more restraints free before tossing a pair at Skye’s feet. “Put those on your boyfriend’s wrists, Miss O’Brien. They should be fairly easy to figure out.”

Thank God her cover in the bureau was buried so deep, because she knew how to put the restraints on and make them appear to be tightened correctly when they would actually be easier to work loose.

Skye picked up the restraints carefully.

“First.” The gunman stopped her. “Logan, your weapons please.”

Logan’s face tightened savagely. “I didn’t bring anything in. I wasn’t expecting Crowe to be taken so easily, and there was no time to grab my holster or backup.”

The gunman tilted his head to the side as though weighing the chances that Logan was lying. “Why did you leave in such a hurry?” he asked curiously.

“Because your shooter nearly took our fucking heads off,” Logan snapped.

Skye thought she could see the movement of brows lifting in surprise beneath the black mask. “How interesting,” the gunman mused. “But he’s not my shooter. He’s an inconvenience to me, if you want the truth.”

“That makes two of us then, doesn’t it?” Logan mocked.

The gunman chuckled. “You know, Logan, it’s a shame, because I actually like you.”

The tone of his voice, the familiarity, yes, he knew Logan, but Skye guessed she knew the gunman as well.

She was positive of it.

“Lift your shirt and turn around,” he ordered. “Let’s be certain you’re not lying.”

Lifting the shirt high enough to reveal the band of his jeans as well as the area under his arms, Logan turned slowly.

“Pant legs.” The gun waved toward his ankles.

Logan bent, lifted each pant leg, and revealed only the white socks he wore.

“Very good.” The gunman nodded then, smiling again before turning to Skye. “You can take care of it now.”

Moving behind Logan, she had to draw in a hard, deep breath as she noticed the tension in his large body. He was like a volcano ready to blow. Because he sensed what she suspected as well, that this man wasn’t at Crowe’s just to play with his computer.

He was there for something more.

“You’re not the shooter?” Logan asked as Skye slid the double-loop nylon restraints over his wrists and at the same time pulled the Glock from beneath her shirt and slid it in the waistband of his jeans, then tightened the notched closures of the restraints.

There were no locks, no keys, no way to get out of them without being completely obvious without the aid of a damned sharp knife or sturdy cutters.

Or so the gunman thought.

Her fingers gripped Logan’s for a moment before she released him, then moved to return to where she had been standing.

“You’re not done,” the gunman told her before turning to Logan and pointing to the wood table chair behind him. “Have a seat.”

Carefully, Logan sat down, always keeping his eyes on the gun and the man who held it.

“His ankles.” The gunman nodded to Skye.

Skye slid the restraints around Logan’s ankles, though she could almost guess the gunman wouldn’t check them, at least not closely.

“Put a pair on yourself. I’ll tighten them.” He smiled.

There, the slightest overbite to his teeth, barely noticeable, as well as a nick in the right corner of his front tooth that looked fairly new.

Skye fought to notice as many distinguishable traits as possible, because if she and Logan managed to get out of this alive, then she was going to kill the gunman herself.

If Logan and Crowe didn’t get to him first.

Sliding her hands into the first loop, she tucked the notched strap into position, then she stood still and silent as he moved to her.

Tucking his weapon behind his back, he gripped the strap closer and pulled it snugly before stepping back from her.

The smile that shaped his lips was terrifying.

Yes, there were definitely monsters in the dark.

“I knew the shooter would be there tonight, though,” he said as he moved back to the computer desk, laid the gun on top of it, then crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at them.

Skye could feel her heart beginning to beat hard and sluggishly, instinct slamming in her head, warning her, urging her to run.

“You’re his partner?” Logan asked, obviously trying to buy time and praying Crowe would wake up or something else would happen to give him the slightest advantage.

“No, I’m not his fucking partner,” the gunman snapped, clearly sensitive to the subject of the shooter. “That bastard. Let’s say our boss didn’t like the fact that I couldn’t find Cami or get to your little girlfriend here. He hired someone who could. Of course, if he had let me use a rifle, the job might have been done by now.”

The thick beat of her heart was about to strangle her.

“Your boss?” Logan asked, his tone darker.

“The Slasher,” the gunman answered. “Though he didn’t know I’d be here tonight, so your pretty girlfriend won’t have the pleasure of being raped by him.” He smiled at her, a slow curve of his lips before he licked them wetly. “But she still has me. As much fun as Ms. Tyme was, she was rather a dead fuck after we drugged her. I’m betting your girlfriend here is livelier.”

Skye felt the oxygen expand, then ooze from her chest, leaving nothing for her to breathe for precious seconds. The room seemed to dim, to darken, and for one horrifying second she thought she would scream.

“I’ll kill you,” Logan promised him. “I promise you, I’ll find you and I’ll kill you.”

The gunman shook his head as he grinned again. “No, you won’t. You haven’t yet. And by the time you have it all figured out, it will be too late.”

“We’ll never leave this county if she’s hurt,” Logan snarled then. “Whatever you’re after you’ll never get it.”

He laughed at that. “Of course you will. Once Rafer sees the tortured, dead body of your girlfriend, then he’ll make certain Cami never returns. And he’ll ensure nothing hurts her. Oh yes.” He lifted a gloved finger and waved it at Logan. “Do tell Rafer to ensure she isn’t knocked up until the conditions of the trust are completely broken. If there’s an heir, I promise you, I don’t have a problem killing a child as my partner did. And I’ll actually enjoy it.”

Skye stayed perfectly still. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare react, or she knew she would shatter.

She twisted her wrists in the restraints, bending them, working at the only weakness she’d been able to provide herself in the discreet way she’d twisted them.

“I’ll enjoy killing you either way,” Logan swore as the other man began moving toward her. “Don’t fucking touch her!”

He laughed as Skye began backing away, searching desperately now for a way out, for an escape route or anything before he touched her.

When he did, she stilled.

His hands gripped her shoulders, holding her still as she stared over his, forcing herself to weigh her options, to consider her line of attack.

“How pretty,” he sighed as he brushed back a long curl that had slid over her face. “I’m going to enjoy fucking you, Skye.”

He was wearing cologne and deodorant, both scents distinctive. She had smelled them before.

“You know, I really like you too,” he told her conversationally. “I think I’ll just do it slow and easy, enjoy it. There’s no one here to tell me to hurry so they can take another turn on you. At least, not yet. Right?”

She continued to stare over his shoulder, refusing to act or to react until she knew exactly what to do. Not until she figured it out.

One second she was trying to make sense of her own thoughts as well, then she saw a glimpse of movement in the computer monitor across the room.

“You going to be a good girl and suck my dick first?” His fingers tightened in her hair and jerked her head back to stare into her eyes. “Look at me, bitch,” he sneered. “Ask nicely to suck my dick. It might keep you alive long enough for Logan to figure out he can’t get free.”

Her lips curled in a sneer. “I rather doubt you have a dick worth sucking.”

A second later her head was exploding in pain. A surprised cry fell from her lips as she flew several feet across the room, hitting the floor with jarring force.

“You bastard!” Logan screamed, the thump of the chair indicating his fury and his attempt to free himself.

“Get on your knees, whore.” Gripping her hair again he jerked her to her knees. “You can suck my dick if you want to live for a few minutes.”

It wasn’t going to happen.

He would have to kill her first.

But she had no intention of dying.