Love & Deception (Agents in Love - Book 1) (41 page)

Terrance shrugged. “She has a point, boss.
Why should she trust us?”

For some reason, that calmed her a bit.
Terrance seemed like a shady, untrustworthy sort, but at least he
could admit it. “Go outside,” she said. “If I hear that door open
before I come to get you, I’m shooting first and asking questions
later.”

Carlie gripped Nick’s black address book in
her hands and checked the number again. It didn’t change. No matter
how hard she wanted it to be different, the messages on Paul’s
phone had, in fact, come from Nick’s new cell number.

And the things he said...

Carlie buried her face in her hands, trying
to stifle the sobs. She thought he loved her. She thought he was
different from Ryan. Turns out, another man fooled her into
believing his lies when all he really wanted was to screw her
before tossing her away. In this case, permanently.

She wanted to call Nick and tell him off,
but that wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t change the fact that
he was a secret agent fighting terrorism. One who decided his boss
didn’t know what he was talking about and wanted to kill the
target, despite repeated orders against that plan.

It was all there, plain for her to read.
Nick was going to kill her. Soon. The last few messages said he
didn’t think Carlie would give up her secrets, and the time had
come to do away with her.

“Lies! Everything he ever said!” She chucked
the address book across the office, tears rolling down her cheeks.
She felt empty inside. He said he loved her.

Carlie walked across the house to the
downstairs bathroom, splashing water on her face and blowing her
nose. What would she do now? No money, a burnt down restaurant in a
town where assassins searched for her, and no way to contact her
parents without her enemies finding her. She blinked back a fresh
spat of tears. Maybe Shelley would help her, or Bradley or
Muhammad. She wasn’t entirely without friends.

Just without the man she loved.

Feeling lethargic and drained, Carlie walked
to the front of the house. She pulled the door open. Paul and
Terrance sat on the steps.

“I’m sorry,” Paul said. “I hated showing you
that, but we have to get you to safety. I don’t know where Nick is,
but we can’t assume he’ll stay gone.”

Nodding, she gestured to the house,
indicating they should come inside. The men hopped up to follow
her.

“Make yourselves comfortable.” She handed
Paul his phone. “You probably need drinks or the bathroom or
whatever.” She didn’t know what to say to them. Everything hurt.
All she wanted was to fall asleep and then wake up, discovering
this was a horrible nightmare. “I need to get dressed and gather my
things.”

“Make sure you get everything, Carlie.” Paul
looked around the house. “You won’t be coming back here.”

She nodded, thinking about her dish
detergent ‘safe’ hidden beneath the kitchen sink. It was all she
had left to start a new life. At least Nick gave her expensive
jewelry. Maybe she could sell it to help rebuild her funds.

Once upstairs, Carlie pulled on some jeans
and a sweater. Nick bought her a suitcase for the trip to Africa
next month, and she pulled it out of the bottom of the closet,
filling it with the clothing he gave her over the last couple of
months.

Though for some reason the existence of the
clothes and suitcase nagged at her, begging her to think about them
further, Carlie pushed it away. It hurt too bad to question Nick’s
motives. Obviously, he was unstable, just like Paul said.

And she still loved him. What if they could
make him better somehow, get him the help he needed? They could
still be together.

She shook her head and zipped the suitcase
closed, hurrying to the bathroom to pack her toiletries and hair
care products in the separate bag made for that. After she grabbed
everything, there was enough room to put in the thin detergent box.
She looped the strap of the case over her shoulder, walking into
the bedroom and extending the handle of the suitcase so she could
roll it from the room.

At the top of the stairs, she called down,
“Can someone help me? I don’t think my hands will handle pulling
this down there.”

Paul emerged from the living room area.
“I’ll get that.”

“Thanks.” Carlie left the bag and hurried
down the stairs. “There’s a few things I need from the kitchen, and
I’ll be ready.”

He started up the stairway as soon as she
passed him, and Carlie tried to ignore the unease in her stomach.
Bile rose in her throat, causing a sour taste in her mouth.
Something about Paul set her on edge.

She crossed to the sink and grabbed out the
detergent box, stuffing it into her bag. Why couldn’t she make
herself truly believe Nick was out to harm her? Despite the
evidence, despite her hurt, the thought of leaving this house with
Paul made her feel more sick than the thought of Nick killing
her.

That’s when it clicked. She didn’t know what
was going on, but Nick couldn’t really want to kill her. Maybe he
lied in those messages to throw Paul off their trail or maybe the
messages were faked somehow. No matter what happened, Nick couldn’t
mean what they said.

Why buy her summer clothes and luggage for
their trip to Africa next month? If he planned to kill her, he
could have made promises with no intention of keeping them. He
didn’t need to spend money, yet they actively shopped for the
trip—clothes, luggage. They even planned their safari schedule and
bought plane tickets.

Calm descended on her, swiftly cooling her
previous hurt, though fear rushed to take its place. Paul and
Terrance were the bad guys, not Nick. She’d left the gun in the
office on the desk. She didn’t know how to get it without alerting
the men she was on to them, but she had to try.

Carlie strolled from the kitchen as calmly
as possible, though her knees shook with each step. The men stood
in the foyer, her suitcase next to them.

“Ready?” Paul asked.

Shaking her head, Carlie strode toward the
office. “Nick ditched my phone in Sayle. The phone numbers I need
are in the office. Once I grab them I’ll be ready.”

After only a few more steps, the sound of a
gun cocking stopped her cold.

“Don’t take another step.” The jovial,
conciliatory tone had left Paul’s voice. He sounded like the
hardened man he truly was. “What gave our game away?”

She turned slowly and met his steely gaze.
“What gave mine away?”

He shrugged. “Something different in your
walk now from when you went into the kitchen. I’m trained to notice
these things.”

She closed her eyes, wondering how this
worked. At least she could die knowing Nick never betrayed her.
Hopefully he’d never know that, for the briefest of time, she had
thought the worst of him. “Do you just shoot me now, or is there
something you need first?”

He laughed and jerked his head toward
Terrance. “You’d better do what you do, Terrance. This one knows
karate and practiced self-defense.”

Carlie wondered how he knew about the
self-defense, but didn’t have time to worry about that.

Terrance pulled a sandwich bag from his
pocket, a white rag inside. “This can be easy and you live, or you
can fight me and die.” He flashed brilliantly white teeth. “Either
way is fine with me, but the person paying for this job would like
you alive. He wants to talk to you.”

She shifted her gaze between the two men.
“Paying for the job? I thought you worked for the government.”

Paul glared at Terrance before returning his
attention to her. “The government pays us and sometimes we have
special assignments. Now, be a good girl and let Terrance put that
over your mouth. If I have to shoot you first, things could get
messy.”

“What’s on the cloth?”

Terrance took another step forward. “My own
special creation. Kind of a chloroform-type chemical, but much
better. People react differently to it, but I think you’ll wake
up...eventually.”

Indecision trapped her as Terrance
approached. If she let him knock her out, maybe she’d be in a
situation later with a better chance of getting away. If she fought
him here, Paul would shoot her. The house was so isolated from
other homes along the lake, Carlie had no hope of finding help
before bleeding out, even if she escaped both men.

Before she could decide, Terrance thrust the
cloth toward her. It didn’t even touch her face before the fumes
hit her. Carlie’s vision blurred and she was already crashing to
the floor before he clapped the rag over her mouth.

Nick tried to control his overwhelming panic
as he floored the sedan to seventy miles per hour on the narrow
lakefront road. Even if Carlie went shopping in the morning and
missed his call then, there was no way she would still be gone.
Something was terribly wrong.

He careened into the driveway. Perhaps
taking her to such an isolated spot was a bad idea. Nick never even
spoke to his neighbors, who lived several acres away. There was no
one to call and ask for help in checking on her.

What if she reached for something on the top
shelf and fell? Or she could have drowned in the bathtub. Worse and
worse scenarios played through his mind, all to distract him from
his real fear. What if someone found her? He was near frantic by
the time he jumped out of the car and bounded up the porch
steps.

Though he pulled his key out, the front door
was unlatched and swung open at his touch.

“Carlie?” His voice shook and he cleared his
throat to try again. “Carlie!”

The foyer looked like a tornado hit it.
Someone smashed the expensive vases flanking either side of the
door. Papers were scattered everywhere, and broken pieces of
furniture and glass littered the ground.

Carlie’s suitcase lay open beyond the
entryway, clothing scattered haphazardly around it. Unable to make
sense of the chaos, Nick picked his way through the house,
searching room by room.

Whoever did this destroyed each area,
tearing apart and overturning items in every room. The one small
consolation was no blood splattered the floors or walls, though
Carlie was missing. All he could hope was that whoever took
her—either Paul or the assassins—kept her alive.

Nick went to the office, searching for his
address book. He’d call Paul before doing anything else. It was a
safe bet his unstable boss did this; assassins would have killed
Carlie and left her body, not ransack the house in search of
something. Paul tracing the call and discovering where Nick hid out
no longer mattered. Nothing mattered, except that he find
Carlie.

The address book wasn’t in his desk. Nothing
was in his desk. Just as panic set in, Nick finally spotted it
across the room, pages splayed open and wrinkled. He snatched it up
and returned to his chair, pulling his cell phone from his pocket.
With a great tech team, Paul would instantly know Nick’s position
when the call connected, but the risk was worth it. If Paul did
take Carlie, he already knew about the lake house anyway.

As he searched for Paul’s number, his phone
buzzed in his hand. Startled, Nick glanced at it. It wasn’t a
number he had programmed. He swiped to answer. “Hello?”

“Where the hell is it?”

Nick would recognize that menacing voice
anywhere. “Hi, Paul. I was just about to call you. I see you
already have my number.” It was a struggle to keep his tone light,
but he needed to get the upper hand in this conversation. “As far
as where it is, tell me
what
it is. Maybe we can make a
trade.”

“You must have made it back to the lake,
traitor. Missing someone?”

Nick forced a laugh. “You ordered me to kill
an innocent woman, and I’m the traitor?”

“Where’s the bracelet, Nick?”

That damn bracelet. He couldn’t believe that
was still Paul’s hang up. “You did all this for the bracelet?
There’s nothing special about it, except what it means to Carlie.
Maybe those types of dangerous microchips exist, but she doesn’t
have any.”

“You’re such an idiot.” Paul’s irritated
huff sounded in Nick’s ear. “This is bigger than terrorist plots
and microchips. I need that bracelet.”

“And I need Carlie. Where is she?” He hoped
the fear he felt came across as anger. If Paul killed her, the only
thing left for Nick would be revenge.

“She had a dose of MG-37.”

Nick’s fingers turned frigid and his hands
shook. He’d heard of the experimental drug and the side effects.
Some test subjects never woke up. Why would the government sanction
Paul using that? Nick knew the President occasionally gave orders
to kill a particular target when there was no other option, but
MG-37 was dangerous and unpredictable.

“Nothing to say?” Paul asked. “I guess by
your silence, you’ve heard of it.”

“Did she wake up?”

“She’s coming around now, but if I don’t
have that bracelet soon, I’ll make sure the next dose is
lethal.”

It was time for Nick to be smarter. He had
to maneuver negotiations to a point where he had some chance of
getting Carlie out alive. “And if I give it to you, what happens to
me and Carlie?”

“You ride off into the sunset and live
happily ever after.”

Somehow, Nick doubted that. “Where are
you?”

“Back in the States and far from you. You
won’t find us, Nick. You need to cooperate if you ever want to see
her again.”

Though he wondered how they got across the
border with Carlie drugged in their vehicle, that was the least of
his worries. Once in the US, they could have hopped onto Paul’s
private plane and be almost anywhere by now. It had been seventeen
hours since he last spoke with Carlie.

“I’ll cooperate. What’s your plan?”

“Where’s the bracelet and can you get
it?”

Nick looked at the corner of the room,
pleased to note the undisturbed carpet. It seemed the hidden floor
safe was a good investment. It was even better he hadn’t left the
bracelet where it could be found. He didn’t tell Carlie, but when
they first arrived at the lake he took it out of the detergent box,
along with the jewelry he bought her, knowing those were the most
important to her.