Targeted (26 page)

OSINT: open-source intelligence; information derived from publicly available sources.

Hannah sagged against the steel door after the guard slammed it shut. The sound of the heavy lock sliding into place made her jump. At least she wasn’t in front of that monster Vargas anymore. Just looking into his eyes had made her skin crawl.

“You okay?” Holly was stretched out on the bed, but sat up, her face worried.

“Yeah. That guy Vargas wanted to ask me questions.” Hannah just hoped he’d believed her lies.

“About what?”

“He wanted to know more about Sophie. . . . Has he asked you questions too?”

Holly shook her head. “No. He kidnapped me to use as leverage against my dad. I only have one purpose for him.”

“Leverage?” Sophie hadn’t told Hannah much and she was more than a little curious.

“My dad works with different flight companies to get into some really hard-to-reach places. His company has been around so long that they’re basically above reproach, and I think Vargas capitalized on his reputation. . . . Do you think Sophie was working with Vargas or something?”

“Hell no! Whatever’s going on, Sophie was trying to keep me safe. There’s no way she’d ever do business with some drug runner.” That much Hannah knew. Sophie had been her best friend since college. More like a sister actually. If she got too much change at a restaurant, she gave it back to the waitress. No way was Sophie involved in any of this—whatever
this
was. For a moment she felt bad for what she’d just said because it was obvious Holly’s dad
was
working with a drug runner or whatever, but that was the least of her worries right now.

Hannah glanced around the room, eyeing the ceiling, which looked like all slab concrete. Just like the walls. The entire room was concrete. No doubt to stop people from escaping through the ceiling. “Have you tried the window?”

Again, Holly shook her head and placed a finger over her mouth, then pointed toward the sink.

Frowning, Hannah crouched down by the sink and peered underneath it. There was a tiny black rectangular device that was blinking red. When Hannah stood, Holly continued.

“Trying to escape is pointless. They’ll just catch us.” Holly stood near the sink and turned the water on. She nodded toward the window, then motioned with her hands for Hannah to lean closer. “One of the guys must have just put this in while you were gone. They let me out for a walk and when I came back, I found it.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

They were both silent for a moment until Holly turned off the water.

“How were you kidnapped?” Hannah asked since this wasn’t the kind of information that could be used against either of them.

“I was in South America on a backpacking trip when two men took me. I’d planned to stay there for a month, then head to Europe for a couple months. They must have been tracking my family’s movements and honestly, my trip wasn’t a secret. I posted about it on Facebook, so for all I know, that’s how they found out about me coming here. Now I wish I’d just gone straight to Europe. I wanted to take some time off . . .”

As they continued making idle conversation, Holly stood by the window, crouched down, and motioned for Hannah to get on her shoulders. Hannah shimmied up her back until she was sitting on her shoulders. Holly tottered for a second, but quickly gained her balance. Hannah barely weighed a hundred pounds, but Holly was probably only twenty more than her. Still, she was taller than Hannah, so that gave them a little more height.

Placing her hands against the glass, she tried to push. There was no give, but it wasn’t double paned. Hannah was certain she could break it. Unfortunately it would make noise. Somehow they’d have to cover it—

The door flew open with a bang. Holly swiveled and when she did, Hannah toppled onto the bed. A dark-haired man—not the one who’d taken her to see Vargas—stood in the doorway.
Oh, shit.
There was no denying what they’d been trying to do. Unable to move, she felt like that proverbial deer in headlights.

The man glanced back and forth between them, then spoke quietly to Holly.

Thanks to Sophie, Hannah knew a few Spanish phrases. She picked out a couple of words, and the guy’s tone wasn’t threatening, so maybe he wasn’t going to hurt them after all. After he shut and locked the door, she was almost afraid to ask.

“What did he say?” she whispered.

“He’s the one listening to us. He said his shift ends in twenty minutes and the next guy won’t be so forgiving. If we want to stay in the same room, and if we want to remain
unharmed
, we need to be quiet. He also said if we had managed to get through the window, there are a dozen men with guns canvassing the area. They’ll shoot us on sight.” She bit her bottom lip and a few tears spilled over her cheeks. “I just want to go home. I miss my mom and dad,” she whispered.

Sighing, Hannah lay on the lumpy mattress and turned on her side. “Me too. I’ll sleep with my head at this end. If you want to sleep in the other direction, I think we’ll both fit.”

“Okay.” Holly dimmed the overhead light and lay down next to her.

Moonlight streamed in from the small window, giving them a little light. A lead ball congealed in Hannah’s stomach. They were stuck and there was nothing she could do about it. And according to that asshole Vargas, he was going to kill her best friend. She’d never felt so helpless in her life.

•   •   •

After checking the lock on the small window—which was pathetic—Jack stripped down to his boxers, laid his weapon on the dresser, then slid under the covers. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until his back hit the cool, cotton sheet. If he was exhausted, he could only imagine how beat Sophie must be.

He closed his eyes, though he wasn’t anywhere near ready to sleep. He couldn’t until Sophie was in the room with him. Safe and close enough for him to touch. The shower had shut off a few minutes ago, so he knew she’d be coming out soon. He’d decided to put off his shower until the morning because the thought of stripping down completely naked with Sophie only feet away from him . . . yeah, he wasn’t even going there right now.

The sound of the door opening forced his eyes open. He ordered himself to keep them shut, but his gaze was drawn to her like a magnet. Sophie walked out wearing skimpy shorts and a tight tank top that molded to every curve. It was one of the outfits he’d grabbed for her. Imagining her wearing it and actually
seeing
her in it were two different beasts. He’d turned off the light, but his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. With the light from the bathroom streaming in, he got a perfect view of her toned, sleek body and he wanted to slowly peel her clothes off. Or frantically tear them off. It didn’t matter. As long as he got to see her naked. To taste every inch of her.

“You awake?” Sophie whispered as she took a few tentative steps toward the bed.

“Yeah,” he managed to rasp out. He shifted uncomfortably, cursing his erection.

She set the bag on the floor next to the bed, then slipped under the covers next to him. She smelled fresh. Like vanilla and something exotic. Something that was all her. The familiarity of that scent wrapped around him, threatening to choke him. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m just tired, I guess.”

He rolled over to face her, hating that he had no fucking control over his cock. At least the darkness was covering his condition. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m so angry right now and you’re the only one I can take it out on.”

“Your boss is an asshole.” Jack guessed that was probably bothering her more than being almost killed. With both of them lying sideways on the pillows, they were only a foot apart from each other. He could see the bright sheen of unshed tears in her eyes and it killed him.

“That’s just it. He’s not. He was doing what he thought was best . . . I guess.”

Yeah, well, her boss could have found another way to deal with his problem. He could have gone to the feds. Instead his stupidity had upended Sophie’s life and gotten her almost killed. That put Ronald Weller at the top of Jack’s shit list. “Anyone willing to sacrifice someone like you is an asshole.”

A few tears spilled over her cheeks, and something inside him cracked wide open. Crying women had never bothered him before, but tears from Sophie were too much. “Damn it, Soph, don’t cry.” He reached out and cupped her cheek, only intending to wipe away her tears, comfort her as he’d done so many times when they were younger. He swiped his thumb across her delicate cheekbone, but couldn’t tear his hand away from her soft skin. Touching her was addictive and something he could get used to very easily if he allowed it. Hell, she’d been his addiction years ago. One he’d never wanted to walk away from.

Sophie didn’t seem to want him to stop either. The tears abruptly dried and her breathing grew ragged, unsteady. Her pink lips parted as she stared at him with those intoxicating dark eyes. When her gaze dropped to his mouth in a hooded sensual way, he knew he’d lost whatever control he had on himself. Which by this point wasn’t much. She moistened her lips and he wondered if she’d done it intentionally to drive him crazy. Either way, he didn’t care.

Not
kissing her was not an option. Not when he already knew how she tasted. She met him halfway and before he could think about stopping—like that was ever a choice—their lips were dancing with a raw, pent-up need. She tasted sweet, minty, and perfect.

Over the years he’d thought about Sophie a lot, but he’d always tried to tamp down the sexual memories. Buried them deep in his mind because he knew nothing would ever happen between them again. Would be kinda hard considering he’d never planned to see her again. Some days he’d even convinced himself that it was just teenage love that he’d built up in his mind, but he knew better. What he’d felt for her back then just wouldn’t die, and the longer he was around her now, the stronger it grew.

She moaned into his mouth and though they were both still lying on their sides, his hips bucked toward her until their entire bodies meshed together. When she hooked one leg around his waist and ground against him, a shudder rolled through him. He slid his hands under her shirt, savoring the feel of her soft skin. Making quick work of it, he peeled her top off.

Blindly, he tossed it onto the floor as he stared. For a moment he couldn’t do anything else other than just look at her. He’d tried to tell himself that his memories were faulty, that she wasn’t as beautiful as he remembered, but damn. She was better than he remembered. Her nipples were small and brown and perfect for his mouth. Faint triangle-shaped tan lines covered her bare breasts, which brought up a dozen different memories of them together at the beach. They’d made love in the ocean on more than one occasion.

Before she gained her sanity back, he bent down and sucked one of her nipples between his teeth. He lightly bit down and tugged, loving the erotic moaning sounds she made. She’d always been so damn reactive to his touch.

When her back arched, giving him better access, he allowed himself to relax. She wasn’t going to change her mind. She wanted this as much as he did. When she let out another whimpering sound of pleasure, he circled the hardened nub with his tongue, flicking and teasing it. He pulled his head back a fraction and blew across the moistened skin.

She jerked underneath him, her hips rolling upward in such a purely sexual way it made him feel a little crazy. “Tell me now if you want to stop,” he managed to rasp out.

“Stop and I’ll kill you.” Her voice came out as ragged as his own.