Take the Key and Lock Her Up (24 page)

“You’re
not
calling the police or going downtown.
We
are leaving; both of us, together, right now. My car is parked down the street, too
far away if our friend with the gun is waiting for us to step outside. So we’re taking
yours. It’s our best option to make it out of here alive. Where are the keys?”

She gritted her teeth and stepped around him to a hook on the wall. “Fine,” she said,
tossing him her car keys. “Go on. Get out of here. Since you saved my life, I’ll even
give you a few minutes before I put a BOLO out on my car.” She grabbed the phone again.

The phone jerked. The line went dead. She held it away from her ear, her mouth dropping
open when she saw the cord, sliced cleanly in two, dangling from the receiver. She
blinked up at Devlin, her eyes widening as he slid a rather large knife into a holder
on his belt.

“What are you—
oof
!” Her breath left her in a rush and her world tilted as he hoisted her onto his shoulder.
She gasped at the feel of his warm fingers on her thighs, dangerously close to her
bottom, reminding her that she was still wearing only panties and a T-shirt. She squirmed
and tried to push herself off him.

He tightened his hold and strode with her through the living room.

“Let me go,” she demanded.

He didn’t even slow down. Gone was the grinning, sexy man she’d kissed in the diner.
In his place was the deathly quiet, dangerous stranger she’d questioned in the interrogation
room.

“At least let me get my clothes on.” She tried to flip off his shoulder.

His fingers squeezed her thighs in a painfully tight grasp.

She gasped and stopped her struggles.

His grip immediately eased.

As he carried her into the garage, Emily lifted her head, frantically looking around
for some kind of weapon.

Devlin opened the rear door on the driver’s side of her car and dumped her onto the
backseat. She scrambled up on her knees and dove toward the other side. He grabbed
her ankles and yanked, hard. She fell onto her stomach, knocking the breath right
out of her. Devlin released her ankles and slammed the door shut. Opening and closing
her mouth like a fish on dry land, Emily struggled to breathe, but nothing was getting
in. Her vision began to go dark.

Finally, air rushed back into her lungs. Her vision cleared. Scrambling to her knees
again, she lunged for the door handle and popped it open. Devlin stood in the opening,
a roll of duct tape in one hand, two pairs of handcuffs dangling from the other.

She held her hands out in a placating gesture. “That’s not necessary. I’ll cooperate.
Really. I will. What do you want me to do?”

Click, click.
Too fast for her to react, he’d snapped the cuffs around her wrists and shoved her
backward onto the seat. She raised her feet to kick him.
Click, click
, a second set of cuffs went around her ankles. The metal grazed against her existing
cuts, shooting fire up her legs. She glared up at him and let forth with a string
of curses that would have made her brothers blush.

Ignoring her outraged struggles, he put his hands beneath her arms and heaved her
into a sitting position. He snapped her seat belt in place, then looped duct tape
from the handcuff chain to the belt, locking her hands at her waist.

“You’re kidnapping a police officer,” she accused. “Every officer in the state of
Georgia will be searching for me. You won’t get away with this.”

He shook his head, as if he was about to lecture a small child who didn’t understand
the complexities of the English language.

“No one is going to look for you, Emily. They won’t even know you’re missing. You’re
going to take a leave of absence, or a previously unplanned vacation. I don’t know
what kind of story Cyprian will spin, but he’ll spin one. And it will work. I tried
to convince him you weren’t a threat, but obviously I failed. He sent two assassins
after you tonight. They might have screwed up, but the mission remains. Which means
the guy who got away—Ace, one of the meanest, most lethal sons of bitches at EXIT—will
be back. He’ll try to kill you again, and again, and again, until I kill him or he
kills you. And in the meantime, Cyprian will ensure there’s a cover in place so none
of what happened tonight can point to him or EXIT.”

He swept his hand to encompass her house. “This mess will be cleaned and covered within
the hour. Don’t kid yourself that your buddy Tuck will come looking for you. He won’t.
He won’t have a reason to look. He’ll be convinced you left of your own free will.”

She shivered beneath the certainty in his tone. “You’re insane. No one could cover
this up. What about the damage those bullets made in the door frame of my bedroom?
Or the dead man on my bedroom floor?” She looked down at her hands, her stomach tightening
at the dried blood on her fingers, beneath her nails, from when she’d tried to save
Steve, or Cougar, or whatever his name was. “What about the blood on the carpet? Or
the scratches on my bedposts from the handcuffs?”

He gave a soft puff of laughter. “EXIT isn’t exactly inexperienced with this sort
of thing. Anything—or anyone—can be erased. Covering up a scene like this quickly
would be a problem for one man. But I guarantee Ace already called for a team of cleaners.
They’ll be here within minutes. Which is why we have to get out of here. Now.”

His impassioned speech and the word “cleaners” sent chills straight to her belly.

“What’s going to happen to me?” she whispered, unable to hide the fear that had crept
into her tone.

His hard expression softened with regret. “I’m sorry you got mixed up in this, Emily.”

He reached his hand toward her face. She jerked back before he could touch her.

His jaw tightened again. “Looks like you and I are in this together now.” His voice
was a harsh rasp. “Where I go, you go.”

“Which means?” she prodded.

“Which means . . .” He ripped a piece of duct tape off the roll in his hand. “You
and I are about to be erased.”

Before she could react, he slapped the piece of duct tape over her mouth.

Chapter Fourteen

E
MILY’S
F
ORD
F
USION
bumped through the collection of potholes that could barely be called a road, its
springs squeaking in protest. She tensed, trying to get her bearings. Where was Devlin
taking her? There weren’t any streetlights this far out, no way for her to see where
they were going. Trees blotted out the stars overhead, leaving nothing but pitch-black
windows and a vast expanse of nothingness.

A bead of sweat broke out on her forehead when Devlin pulled the car to a stop a few
minutes later. He cut the engine and headed to the back of the car. Emily craned her
neck, trying to see what he was doing, but it was like staring into a dark abyss.

Until he opened the trunk. Light seeped from around the edges, but she couldn’t see
what he was doing. After he’d handcuffed her in the car in her garage, he’d gone back
inside for a full minute. When he’d returned, he’d popped the trunk and put something
inside. Whatever it was, he was getting it now.

Something scraped against the opening. Shivers sent goose bumps across her skin. Her
fingers dugs into her palms. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. The passenger door
popped open, startling her, making her cry out against the duct tape.

Like an unfeeling robot, Devlin leaned in, knife in hand—the same ugly six-inch blade
he’d used to cut the phone cord.

Oh God. No!
She jerked back violently and fell sideways, banging her head on the opposite door.

His brows rose in surprise. He looked down at the knife he was holding and flushed
a dull red. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to cut the duct tape binding
your wrists to the seat belt. I need you to hold still. Okay? Can you do that?”

The soft reassurance of his tone broke through her panic. She wanted to believe that
he wouldn’t hurt her. After all, he had saved her life. But any kind of trust she’d
had in him had died a quick death the moment he cut the phone cord and threw her over
his shoulder. Still, if she was going to survive, she had to obey him, at least until
she could figure out a way to escape.

Nodding behind her gag, she braced herself to fight him if he was lying and made any
sudden moves with the knife. If he was going to hurt her, she wasn’t going to make
it easy.

One quick slash and her hands were no longer taped to the seat belt. She let out a
shaky, relieved breath. But her wrists were still cuffed, like her ankles. Even if
she managed to knock him silly with her closed fists, she’d only be able to hobble
and would never get away before he came after her.

He slid his knife into its sheath and leaned toward her again. She tensed and shrank
back, but it didn’t matter. He released the seat belt, scooped her into his arms and
lifted her out of the car in one smooth motion. When he turned, the interior lights
and the open trunk light illuminated what lay on the road. One of her rolling suitcases:
the biggest one, the one she used on those rare occasions when she went on a real
vacation.

The significance of that open,
empty
suitcase sent a fresh rush of panic through her. How many times had she heard of
a victim’s body being found in a suitcase, tossed in a ditch like garbage? She violently
renewed her struggles. He squeezed her against him, painfully tight, but this time
she didn’t give in. Panic unlike anything she’d ever felt before had her writhing
and twisting in desperation. He squatted down, depositing her into the suitcase. She
immediately raised her knees, lashing out with her legs as hard as she could, catching
him full in the chest.

He grunted and wobbled back on his heels but didn’t fall.

Emily desperately tried to heave herself over the side of the suitcase, but Devlin
grabbed her, relentlessly forcing her back down. His overwhelming strength immobilized
her with terrifying ease.

Tears pricked her eyes, shaming her. She was so. Damned. Scared. She couldn’t think
of any reason for him to put her in a suitcase unless he was going to kill her. She
shook her head back and forth, whimpering against the gag, pleading with her eyes,
begging him not to hurt her.

He frowned down at her. “Stop looking at me like that. I told you I’m not going to
hurt you. I have to transfer you to another vehicle without anyone seeing you. That’s
why I have to put you in the suitcase. You’ll be in it only fifteen, twenty minutes
tops.”

He was saying something. She could make out some of the words. But the haze of panic
that engulfed her garbled everything. She bucked against his hands, trying to break
free.

He pushed her back down.

No!
She fought to get away, but his hold was impossible to break. She collapsed back
into the suitcase, exhausted from her struggles, her breaths wheezing against the
gag.

His jaw tightened. “I know you must hate me.
I’d
hate me if I were in your position.” He leaned down, as if to make sure he had her
absolute attention. “I am everything you believed me to be when you interviewed me
at the station and worse. Which means if I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.
I wouldn’t have risked my neck fighting those two men at your house if I wanted to
hurt you. Do you understand what I’m saying? The man who got away, the one who tried
to shoot you, is scouring the city right now, using every resource he has to find
you. He’ll be looking for your car. For you. I’m going to switch cars again at the
airport, where I’ve got another car sitting in long-term parking. I need you to be
quiet, and calm, and lie in the suitcase so if anyone sees me, they’ll see only a
lone man getting into his vehicle. They won’t remember a man and a woman. Nod if you
understand.”

He was everything she’d believed him to be and worse.
Assassin. Killer. Murderer. Her blood rushed in her ears. She couldn’t catch her
breath, couldn’t draw enough oxygen through her nose. She moaned against the gag.
Her airway was blocked.
Help me, help me!
Her chest ached. Her vision blurred. Oh God, she was going to die.

“Emily? Emily?”

The words sounded tinny, like they were coming from far away. Her world went dim.
Suddenly she was home again, lying in bed. A strange peace fell over her.

Strong, gentle hands slid beneath her and lifted her up. She was surrounded by warmth.
A brief sting of pain tugged against her mouth. Warm air suddenly rushed into her
starving lungs. She drew in deep, gulping breaths, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Where was she? The peace she’d felt before began to fade.

“It’s okay,” someone whispered against her hair. “It’s okay.” A gentle hand stroked
her back, up and down, up and down, cradling her against a hard chest, like a lover,
rocking her slowly back and forth. She snuggled more deeply into his embrace, breathed
in his comforting scent. He’d saved her. This man, whoever he was, had saved her.

“No one’s going to hurt you, Em,” he whispered. “I promise.”

That voice. That familiar scent, subtle, spicy, like expensive aftershave. Calling
her Em as if she were special to him. The voice reminded her of something, someone,
holding her close, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss that warmed her all the
way to her toes. A forbidden kiss, because the one who’d been kissing her was all
wrong for her, on the wrong side of everything she believed in.

Devlin!

Her eyes flew open. She was in Devlin’s arms. No, no, no. This was all wrong. He was
going to kill her. He was going to put her in a suitcase and throw her away. She shoved
against his chest and screamed. A cloth clamped down over her nose and mouth, its
sickeningly sweet scent setting off alarm bells in her mind.

He was drugging her, killing her. No! A curious weakness flowed through her veins.
Her hands fluttered against his chest like a bird against the bars of its cage. She
twisted her head to the side and gulped a deep breath of clean air.