Seek and Destroy (45 page)

    Okay, so that comment scared the hell out of her.
Really
scared the hell out of her.
Again
? They'd never been together. Even though she still felt livid enough to beat David Snyder with her bare hands, she turned to him for comfort, support.

    He must have recognized the fear in her eyes. Lacing his fingers with hers, he lifted her hand in his and gave it a slight squeeze. "You plan to come after me? Why?"

    David looked stunned. At first. Then his featured hardened into stone, his usually mirthful brown eyes no longer danced. They filled with lethal rage, full of determination. The pressure on her hand increased. She pulled away before he broke her fingers. "Like hell he will."

    "I heard that," Surreal droned in her ear. With a laugh, he continued. "He thinks he can stop me? My love, I know you are trying to escape from that monster. I saw the way he treated you today."

    Not surprising. She already knew he'd tapped into Image Techno-Gadgets system. She overrode his feed with her own. She knew he'd be pissed. And, now that he'd risked a trace just to talk to her, she knew he'd taken it personal.

    The fear gripping her heart squeezed painfully.

    "And how do you plan to save me?" Why not humor him while they traced the call back to his location? Deep down, she knew it would be a futile attempt. More than likely he skipped the call from tower to tower. David tried to grab the phone again. She smacked him in the knuckles with it before bringing it back to her ear.

    He rubbed his knuckles and gave her a cross look.

    "Serves you right," she whispered, her hand over the receiver.

    "Charis, do not insult me by talking to
him
while on the phone with me. You know how I hate not having your undivided attention."

    "What do you want?"

    He laughed again. The sound made her skin crawl. "What do I want? What do
I
want?" The volume of his voice rose, as did his temper. "Jesus Christ, Charis. How can you ask me that knowing me as well as you do?"

    "Know you? I don't know you. You, Surreal, are a stranger to me."

    The pause on the line made her wonder if he'd hung up. But then she heard him breathing. Hard.

    "You never called me Surreal. Not once. Having you call me that now seems so impersonal. And you, Charis my love, are so far from impersonal to me. You've earned the right to call me by my other name."

    Other name? "You mean your real name?"

    "No!" he bit at her. "You don't understand. Surreal
is
my real name. But the way you say my other name... The way it rolls from your lips..." He started breathing harder.

    Oh God. She closed her eyes against the vision forming in her mind. Swallowing down the bile floating at the back of her throat, she said, "Please tell me you aren't doing what it sounds like you're doing."

    "Don't you like it when we make love?"

    Oh gross. From the way he breathed, he was close. She brought her eyes over to David.
Do they have him?
She mouthed.

    "Hang up," he told her. "It's been three minutes. I'm sure they've got a trace."

    Oh thank God.

    "You know just how I like it. Keep talking." He breathed hard. "To." Breathe. "Me." Breathe.

    This was too much. Ignoring David as he ordered her to hang up again, she snapped back. "Do you have any idea how sick and twisted this is, Surreal? Not to mention demented. Touching yourself-"

    "You," he groaned.

    David tried to pull the receiver away. She punched him in the solar plexus. His face made a slight wince. Pushing him away, she spoke into the phone, pissed this maniac masturbated while on the phone with her. "What about me?"

    "
You
are touching me," he moaned. "Oh. Oh, yes. Charis! I love you!" he cried out.

    With that, the line went dead.

    

    

    David held his finger on the button to disconnect until she acknowledged him by placing the receiver in the palm of his other hand. He clicked it into place and sat back just as the private jet touched down on the tarmac. Shaking with anger, his chest tight as he attempted to control his temper, he glared at her.

    They taxied over to the hanger as he started in on her. "Why don't you listen to me?"

    "I think I'm going to be sick."

    "If you would have just listened to me-"

    "I was just trying to get something out of him."

    He unbuckled as the plane came to a stop. He needed to step away from her before he wrapped his hands around that delicious little neck. "From the sound of it, you did."

    He exited the plane, Charis close on his heels. "For your information, he told me his next move," she defended as soon as they jumped into the back of the sedan taking them to HQ. The Neely brothers stayed behind to unload the equipment, leaving them alone in the back seat while the driver took off.

    "And as soon as I listen to the conversation, I'll know, too." He looked at her. "We record all transmissions incoming and outgoing on the satcom. It's protocol."

    The vibrant color hit her cheeks. Her nostrils flared which, damn it, was attractive as hell. Her dark curls stood up all over the place thanks to the wig. After she ripped it off on the plane and threw it on the seat behind her, she'd run her fingers through her natural hair and allowed her curls free.

    He faced forward before he wouldn't be able to stop himself from running his hands through that mane and pulling her lips to his. If he knew he'd get away with it, he'd lower her down on the seat. He would then kiss her, explore the recesses of her mouth, run his tongue along her jaw line. After they'd both had their fill, he would then-

    "Where do you see this going?"

    Her question caught him off guard. He wasn't quite prepared to have 'the talk' with her. Now wasn't exactly the most appropriate time. "Can we talk about this later?"

    "No." She turned in her seat to face him. "There may not be a later. I need to know. What am I to you? A girlfriend? A plaything? What?"

    He stared into her eyes. Those pretty blue eyes widened with wonder. He knew her, and knew she didn't scare easily. But fear, clear and vivid, shined in her eyes.

    Okaaay. Maybe the time had come after all. "How about when this is all over we go away for a while? No ICE. No NASSD. Just you and me."

    Narrow-eyed, she looked at him skeptically. "As what?"

    With heartfelt relief the time had finally come for him to tell her how he felt, he smiled. "I love you, Charis McKoy, love you more than you could possibly know."

    He saw the emotions flooding her eyes. She wanted to believe him, needed to believe him. But something held her back. He watched her trying to work her throat. The pulse at the base of her neck jumped sporadically. "That isn't an answer, it's an admission."

    "But-"

    "It isn't enough, David."

    What? He'd just poured his heart out to her. Was she rejecting him? Stunned, numb, he just stared at her. What did she want from him?

    "I want you, all of you, forever." She drew in a shaky breath. "I want to be married, have a zillion kids. I grew up in a big family and couldn't imagine not having one of my own."

    Ah, Christ. The 'M' word. Why couldn't she be happy with what they had, with what they had together? Why throw something like a marriage into the mix to really screw it up? They'd still have it all, everything she wanted, without adding that into the situation.

    "Listen, Charis-"

    She withdrew, physically and emotionally. Her gaze wouldn't meet his. "I don't want your
Pretty Woman
solution. I don't want to be put up in an apartment waiting for you to stop by for a bootie call. I want a husband, a family. If you can't offer me the entire package, then let me go."

    "Let you go?" Not just no way, but no fucking way. "Why rush into this? We've known each other a week."

    "If you never want to get married, I mean
ever
, then I need to know now. It doesn't make any sense for me to invest my time in us if I know it is never going to be more than a fling."

    "Don't you ever do anything for fun?"

    The look she threw him should have melted him into the leather seats. "Fun? That's what I am?"

    "No. Yes." He let out a growl. "I've already told you how I feel. I don't know what else you want."

    "I think you do."

    "I-" He did know. And it was something he wouldn't, and
couldn't
, give her. "Baby, it isn't-"

    Without warning the driver's side window shattered, spraying glass everywhere.

    "Shit! Get down!" He threw himself on top of her, covering her with his body. "Get us out of here!"

    "I'm on it," the driver stated and gunned it, whipping them off the road and down a gravel road. A driveway, maybe? No way was he going to lift his head to find out.

    They veered left. He held her as they slid on the leather seat, slamming into the door with their heads and shoulders. Then they veered right. They slid across the seat and slammed into the other side. Hard.

    The next shot broke the window above them and showered them with little squares of glass. She screamed and covered her head, fighting against his hands, which already covered her. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and pushed her head down.

    Another shot sounded and the car took a sudden jump. He stole a glance at the driver, who slumped over the steering wheel, a gaping whole in the back of his head. Damn it. They just took out the driver. The car accelerated and swerved down a steep embankment.

    Don't roll. Don't roll. Don't roll.

    The car lifted, the weightlessness causing his heart to slam in his chest. Charis screamed again. He pulled her tighter against him, bracing them both for the impact.

    The car went airborne. They rose up off the floor, suspended in the air as the car seemed to float. And then they descended. Fast.

    "Hold on!" He held her tight, braced for the impact. When the car slammed back down to the ground, it landed with such bone-shattering force it sent them flying inside, bouncing off the doors, the floor, the ceiling.

    And then it rolled. It rolled. And rolled. And rolled.

    They were like pinballs against the rubber bumpers. Only they didn't hit anything as soft as rubber. This hurt like hell and beat the shit out of them. When he smacked his shoulder into the door, he hollered out.

    Charis screamed over and over. Oh man. He reached for her, almost had her when they twisted in the air. His head smacked the ceiling, displaying stars in his already blurred vision.

    As much as he tried to protect her, she received her fair share of the beating. The car rolled over and over down the embankment, spinning them around like clothes in a dryer, knocking them for a real loop. He felt the crack, even heard it in his ears when his ribs smacked into something hard. He grunted against the pain but didn't loosen his hold on her.

    
Slam
! His shoulder hit the ceiling, or it may have been the floor. It didn't matter. He roared and involuntarily loosened his hold. Realizing what he'd done, he pulled her close to him again.

    That was when he realized she no longer screamed. In fact, she no longer did much of anything. During the commotion she'd been knocked unconscious.

    Please God let her only be unconscious.

    An eerie silence settled in as the car finally slammed them down one last time. Little black dots blurred his vision as he blinked and looked out the window. They'd landed upside down.

    Fighting against the blackness, he pushed himself up off Charis, immediately checked for a pulse. He felt a strong THUMP-thump. THUMP-thump. Oh thank God.

    His strength faltered. The black spots grew with intensity. The throbbing at the base of his skull caused his heart to slam in his ears. His stomach stirred. His saliva glands activated. He had maybe a few minutes before he passed out.

    At best.

    "Charis, sweetheart." It hurt to talk, to breathe. Looking down at his midsection, he spotted the bloodstain growing steadily where he'd cracked a rib when something penetrated his flesh. Christ, that hurt. Pushing against the pain as he applied pressure so not to bleed out, he tried to wake her up by brushing her hair out of her face, the glass out of her curls.

    "Charis, baby?"

    Nothing. Probably for the best. The knot on the back of her head would definitely give her a headache.

    Quickly he scanned her for any other injuries. Aside from the enormous lump on her head and a hell of a lot of cuts and bruises, she came through unscathed. He dropped his head to hers and drew in several steadying breaths to ward off the wave of nausea and blackness fighting to pull him under.

    The sound of twigs snapping broke through the deafening silence. The car didn't move, which only left one other cause for the noise.

    They weren't alone.

    He reached for his weapon and clenched his teeth. Shit. His shoulder had been dislocated. Too bad. He reached again, ignoring the overwhelming pain it caused, pushing him that much closer to passing out.

    His weapon wasn't in its holster. Shit. He visually searched the vehicle but came up empty. It must have flown out the window during the crash.

    Crash? Hell, that wasn't just a crash. The inside of the vehicle looked it had gone through the masher. He could only imagine what the outside looked like.

    More twigs snapped, followed by deep voices. Male. About fifty yards out. Closing in fast.