Hell or High Water (18 page)

“The city has changed since I lived here. While I cook, familiarize yourself with each of Walsh’s addresses. Eliminate Hank’s apartment and the old man’s home. We can search them if we need to. First, we’ll drive by the warehouses and through the area where you escaped. If we’re lucky, something will trigger a memory.”

Nate cracked four eggs into a bowl before rummaging around for a fork. Suddenly, the scene was so domestic his feet itched. It was his custom to run from the idea of having an apron hanging from his neck, yet here he was, like a lovesick clown, making fucking breakfast. While the eggs cooked, he toasted and buttered four slices of bread. He fixed their plates, draped a kitchen towel across one arm, and served her with a bow.

“Eat up.” He sat next to her and dug in to his breakfast.

“Thanks. This looks great.” Her words belied her actions as she pushed her food around on her plate with her fork.

She shifted in her chair and glanced in his direction every few minutes. The silence while they ate prompted Nate to inhale his food and finish dressing.
 

He’d pulled on his boots when she stood and walked over to him. “What’s on your mind?” He studied her face and body language, unable to read her emotions.
 

“You did the right thing last night.” She drew in a breath. “Sex would’ve just complicated matters.”

“Sweetheart, sometimes sex is just sex and doesn’t have to complicate anything.”
 

“I’m sure you could explain it away as nothing. Still, I appreciate you not taking advantage of my emotional state.”

“That’s me, chivalrous to a fault. I wouldn’t want the word to get out I’d slept with the boss.” He waited for a blink or reaction.

She didn’t flinch. “Right. I’m ready to hit the cleaners if you are.”

She slipped on a long-sleeve shirt, covering the pistol on her hip, and strolled down the hall as if she thought the subject was closed. It wasn’t. Last night he’d voiced, in explicit detail, exactly what he wanted to do to her body. Maybe neither of them wanted permanent, but both were fighting a fire only sex would extinguish.
 

****

Johnny broke the news to Mr. A that as of the last conversation with the Taylor woman, she was still insisting she didn’t have Hank’s ring. “We’ve had the hostage over twenty-four hours. Seems kind of odd she’s not willing to give it up.”

Mr. A’s eyes turned steely hard, causing Johnny’s heart to jackhammer against his ribs.
 

“If Hank is wrong ...” The boss stopped outside the holding room. “The friend is in here?”

“Yes, sir. You sure you want to go in?” Johnny’s hand hovered over the lock.
 

“Because she’ll get a look at me?” The boss’s eyebrow rose. “Dead witnesses don’t testify.”

Johnny blew out the breath he’d been holding and swiped his key card. His caution was an act. He wanted nothing more than to show the boss Hank’s handiwork because the woman called Holly looked even worse this morning. With one eye purple and swollen almost shut, her lip and face the color of grapes, she looked pathetic. Surely, this time the boss would sanction action on Hank.

“Johnny. Was this necessary?” Mr. A moved closer to the small bundle of bruises.
 

Johnny’s brain hiccupped. He opened his mouth to defend himself but couldn’t. His code of honor kept him from throwing Hank under the bus.
 

“That man Hank beat me.” Holly ground out the words over a busted lip.

“I should’ve known,” Mr. A said, returning to stand over her. “My apologies. He gets rambunctious sometimes.”

“Rambunctious?” She threw the blanket back and slid her torn shirt to the side, revealing teeth marks on her breast. “He almost raped me.” Her gaze burned with hate. “He’s disgusting.”

Johnny could taste the need to gut Hank. The woman and the boss glared at each other for a long minute. Jesus, she had balls of steel. And Mr. A’s tolerance level for insubordination was low.

“Be done with this.” The boss exhaled a long sigh. “Kill this creature, the Taylor woman, and Hank.”

Chapter 18

While Nate drove, Kay lined up their stops on the GPS. She turned her head away from him and tried to figure out how she’d managed to screw up thanking him. He’d exercised kindness and good judgment last night. Somehow she’d come across rigid and uptight.

Deep inside, part of her wanted to believe she’d given him a taste of being rejected, although that wasn’t the truth. Her body craved his, flushed when he brushed past, her breasts ached for his touch.
 

She trusted him in all things except with her heart. He’d proved his thrill-seeker adventures and need to fight the good fight meant more to him than she ever had.
 

Could she have a “sex is just sex” relationship? Why not? She was an adult with needs. People had sex without emotional ties all the time. Right?
 

One thought nagged at her confidence. Last night, she’d all but climbed over him, and he’d said no thanks. Regardless of all the sexy things he’d claimed he wanted to do, if he’d truly wanted to make love to her last night, they’d have been naked, in bed and smiling by now.
 

 
The car stopped. She glanced up to find them parked in front of her dry cleaners. Nate’s hand was thrust out with a claim check.
 

“We didn’t have to do this now,” she said, remembering his non-reaction to her appearance in the living room.
 

“You’re the one who tried to knock down the coffee table with the receipt. I’m following the boss’s orders.” His tone carried a razor-sharp edge.

His blue eyes reflected nothing. He’d put a mental wall between them. On the other hand, maybe she’d built an insurmountable one by refusing to talk about her relationship with her dad.

Stewing like a boiling pot, she slammed the door a little too hard and then stormed into the store.
 

The owner’s wife rushed to the counter.
 

“Ms. Taylor, I almost called but knew you’d be in soon.”

“You lost my favorite slacks?”

“No.” The woman chuckled as she opened the cash register. “We found your ring.”

She dumped the contents of a small envelope into Kay’s hand. In that surreal moment, Kay’s hearing failed. The only sound was the swish of blood pumping to her brain. The world spun, forcing her to lean against the counter for support.
 

“Was in your jacket pocket.”

Kay realized the clerk was speaking. “Thanks.” She forced the word out.

“I’ll get your cleaning.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Nate, who had his cell to his ear. Their gazes locked for a split second. He dropped the phone, erupted out of the car, and raced to her. He burst through the door and gathered her in his arms. Her heart twisted, swelling painfully inside her chest.

 
God, it felt good to be forgiven. It felt good to lean into his chest and listen to his heart pound. It felt good to know she held the key to Holly’s freedom in her hand.

“I’m here.” Strong arms wrapped around her and guided her to the lone chair. He knelt before her. “What happened?”

She unfurled her fingers. His gaze dropped to her hand.
 

“You have got to be kidding.” He tapped the ring, rolling it around on her palm.

Lost in a haze of confusion, she said, “Leann had to have dropped it in my pocket during one of my visits with her.”

“Why pass it off to you?”

“She must have been afraid Hank knew she had it. Look at the initial.” She turned the W up where he could see.
 

“This changes everything. Can you walk?”

“I’m fine. My legs got rubbery for a second.”

“No doubt. We’ve got work to do.”

Kay paid the bill, thanking the owner for returning the ring. The woman’s wide eyes indicated her curiosity as to what had just happened, but Kay didn’t try to explain.
 

He loaded her along with her cleaning into the car and then drove toward her apartment.
 

“I’m hitting redial. I have to tell him I have the damn ring.”

“Not until we have a plan.” He was using his don’t-fuck-with-me voice. “I won’t risk losing you both.”

“We’re running out of time. Maybe I can stall him by telling him I’ll swap the ring for Holly. It will give us a chance to figure out a plan.”
 

“First I need to talk to Tyrell. He and Marcus were about to knock on Hank’s door when you almost collapsed. They need to know about the ring. Will you at least call him first? Let him know what’s happened. Tell him we’ll meet back at your place later.”
 

Kay’s heart did a flip. Hope filled her chest for the first time since they discovered Holly missing. “You’re right. We’ll want to be together to plan the swap. If the kidnapper picks a drop location, I need to deliver the ring.”
 

Nate held a hand up, supposedly to stop her arguing, which she ignored.

“No. It’s me he’s been talking with. He won’t allow it. Besides, you and the boys will protect me.”

“You do understand Hank’s people aren’t planning on trading. Two more dead females mean nothing to them.”
 

“I know. And we won’t let that happen.” Coffee backed up into her throat.

Her call with Tyrell lasted only a few minutes. He passed the phone to Marcus who wanted assurance he wouldn’t be left out when it came time to go after Holly.
 

Kay dug the throwaway from her pocket. She couldn’t wait any longer.
 

Nate’s hand gripped her knee. “Try it. With the number being blocked, it may not go through. If it does, tease the bastard, let him know you have it, but don’t promise anything. You want to talk to Holly.”

****

Johnny pressed his palms against his head and squeezed. Surely, the searing hot pain would boil his brain. The intensity jumbled his thoughts, blurring his vision.
 

The sudden vibration in his pocket startled the shit out of him.
 

Should he care the Taylor woman was calling? Hell, yes. If she really had it, Mr. A would want the damn thing returned. Wouldn’t change the outcome, just delay it.
 

The memory of the bite marks on Holly’s breast flicked through Johnny’s memory. How many more had she not shown?

Clenching his teeth against the headache, he brought the phone to his mouth. “I’m glad you called. You can listen while I kill your friend.”
 

“I found it.”

Johnny raked a hand through his hair, closed his eyes, and took a moment before speaking. Hank had been right all along. Christ, this meant the boss would forgive that fucking slime-ball again.

“Too late.”
 

“Hurt her and kiss your chances of getting this ring back goodbye.”

Johnny laughed at the woman’s bravado. “You’re as mouthy as Holly.”
 

“Thanks. We’re a lot alike.”

A male voice drifted through the receiver. Johnny barely heard the man tell the Taylor woman to hang up. She shushed whoever was with her. Trouble in the ranks benefited Johnny’s purpose because he had to separate her from her bodyguards.

“You won’t be alike when she’s dead.”
 

Johnny decided to let the two women speak to each other. He strode into the hall and opened the door to the holding room.

Holly was bent over the small sink, splashing her face. She’d draped the blanket he’d given her around her shoulders. She yelped and scrambled backward, slinging a trail of water across the floor.
 

Christ, how had he not noticed her size? She couldn’t be more than five-four.
 

She stopped when her legs bumped into the cot. Tears welled. “What now?”

“Your friend’s ready to trade.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder, instantly regretting the feel of gold silk against his fingers. He thrust the cell in front of her, leaving it tilted so he could hear what was said. “Say hello.”

“Kay?”
 

“Holly?” The Taylor woman’s voice shot up two octaves. “Thank God.”

“Don’t-give-him-shit-he’s-going-to-kill—”

In the middle of her run-on sentence, Johnny ended the call and glared down at Holly. “Do you ever do what you’re told?”

“Why should I?” She tilted her head back, never flinching. Her defiance made him crazy.

“Because Hank will be here later today. You’ll need a friend then.”

The low cry that burst from her sounded like a lost kitten. She climbed further back on the bed and scrunched into a ball.
 

“Please don’t let him ...” Her bottom lip quivered.

“He won’t hurt you again. I’ll kill him first.”

Big blue eyes, full of doubt and confusion, lifted and studied him. “Why? What do you care?”