Angels & Sinners: The Motor City Edition (39 page)

He thought himself safe because the van blocked his back.

Quietly climbing from the cargo hold, Marcy bent and picked up the wicked blade. Wiping her hands on her jeans, she gripped it firmly and moved up behind him without a sound.

The men in combat gear yelled at her in Arabic but she ignored them. They kept their eyes on the man holding the hostage to keep him from turning and seeing her.

“I don’t understand you fucking animals! Speak English!” The murderer pushed the gun harder into the temple of the woman. She was crying. “I’m walking away from this shit! I’m walking away or I’ll kill this cunt!”

Marcy was inches from his back when she simultaneously hooked one arm around his elbow, pulling the gun away from the hostage’s head, and used her other hand to slash her kidnapper across the back of his thigh with the knife.

The blade went through his pants easily and she felt when it hit bone. The effect was immediate. His screams as the woman broke from his grasp were nothing to her.

Twisting the gun out of his hand as he dropped to the ground, Marcy watched him thrash as he bled profusely onto the cobblestone street. Checking the ammunition in the magazine, she shoved it back in place and stared into his eyes.

“Who sent you?”

He started to laugh. “You stupid little bitch. You’ll
never
be safe.”

Glancing down his body, she extended her arm and put a bullet in his knee. “Who
hired
you?”

His fresh screams were accompanied by her being surrounded, guarded by a full dozen men standing shoulder to shoulder. Half of them faced out to watch the street. Those facing toward her had their guns pointed at the kidnapper’s head and she knew they’d shoot if they believed her to be in danger.

Past them, she noted emergency personnel arriving to contain the scene. Medics worked on the injured a dozen feet away. Among them were Near and Far. They were covered in blood, their wounds likely delivered from the same knife she held in her hand.

Straddling the redhead’s torso, trapping his shoulders with her knees, she slid the gun away and switched the knife to her other hand. “I may never be safe but I will always be safe from
you
. You have one more chance to tell me who hired you.”

“Fuck you, rich girl.”

In her life, she’d had no real friends other than the staff who took care of her. To know that this man had hurt people she cared about and could have killed her first friends for
money
made her mind cloud with rage.

Looking down at a man who was delirious with pain but still able to spit hatred at her, she said clearly, “No. Fuck
you
.”

Then she sank the blade into his chest with both hands. She watched as he gurgled his last breath and then the world rushed back, like an explosion in her brain, and she lost consciousness.

Her rescuers returned her to the heavily fortified mansion of her father’s friend, Salid bin Qasim. He’d guarded her personally until Pritchard and Victoria arrived. Marcy was beaten but it was the terror in her own mind that made her feel as if she was bleeding out.

Her first memory upon waking was Victoria shrieking, “It’s the fucking Middle East, what do you
expect
, Pritchard?”

“The leader was American, the driver and the passenger were Russian, and the woman may have been French,” she managed to whisper. “None of them were Middle Eastern.”

Her mother turned on her. “How would
you
know? You don’t know anything! You traipse around as if you don’t have a care in the fucking world—given far too much freedom by your father. If you’d been taken, do you know what it would have taken, what we would have had to
pay
to get you back?”

A deep voice boomed across the room and made her head hurt. “That is
enough
! You dare to speak to your
daughter
, in this way? She could have been killed. Can you not pretend to be a mother for one moment? Get out of this room at once.”

“Don’t you talk to me like that . . . ”

“Get out of here, Victoria,” her father said sharply.

“Pritchard . . . ”

“You have zero emotion. Leave the presence of those who do.” Marcy remembered it as the one time her father had stood up to Victoria in such a way that put fear on her mother’s face.

Salid sat in the chair beside the bed and said, “You are a strong young woman. My grandsons said you are a fierce warrior.”

She didn’t know she’d started to cry until he reached out with a piece of soft cloth to wipe her face.

“You must rest. Let the world circle the sun and heal your mind and body. It will be better in a day, better still in a month, and in a decade, you will have forgotten much of what happened today.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“For
her
.” She swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me. Sleep now, little one.”

Marcy had and it seemed, looking back, that she’d slept away the majority of several months. When she woke up, she stepped back into her life and put the entire ordeal out of her mind.

***

In the middle of a high-end club in New York City, Marcy allowed everything to click into place. “I never thanked you.”

Nuri brushed a strand of her hair over her shoulder. “After you left, we spoke to dozens of witnesses who talked about your clear thinking and refusal to put anyone else in danger.”

“You are something of an urban legend to our people, Marcy,” Fahad told her with a smile.

She stared between them. “How long are you in New York?”

“We have a house outside the city. A friend mentioned your name in regards to the club and we hoped to see you for the first time in a less severe environment.”

“You
live
in the States?” The thought made her heart slam almost painfully in her chest.

“We do.” Nuri winked. “You are in the middle of a corporate restructuring and you will be working seven days a week for months. When you take breaks, we wish to see you.”

“Entirely at your convenience, Marcy. There is no pressure to change your schedule to fit us into it.” Fahad glanced at his watch. “It is almost two in the morning. Allow us to take you home. We can meet for lunch or drinks tomorrow if you have time.”

They stood and held out their hands. She placed hers in them and they lifted her to her feet. The three of them stood very close. She didn’t understand the smiles they gave her.

Escorting her back to the group, Marcy made introductions. The men stood, shook hands, and sat back down.

All of them with exception to Hudson Winters. Taller and thicker than the cousins, he held their hands for slightly longer than propriety decreed.

Fahad said, “It is an honor to meet a man we have known only by reputation.”

Nuri added, “A reputation that is well-deserved and respected in our circles.”

Marcy moved to step around him and Hudson put his arm across her shoulders. “Miss Canfield is a personal friend.” He allowed the words to hang between them and there was no misunderstanding the message. “Should you remove her from this club and anything was to happen to her, it would distress me.” His smile was tight. “In fact, I would go so far as to say it would enrage me.”

The cousins nodded. “She will always be safe with us, Mr. Winters.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Glancing down at Marcy, he said, “You will call tomorrow.” It wasn’t a request and his will was something Marcy had always respected and understood. She nodded with a small smile. “Excellent. It was wonderful to see you. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He released her and the Ghonims positioned her between them. She waved at the men and women she hoped to see again and allowed the cousins to lead her away. On the way to the exit, they paused to collect their suit jackets.

It was a necessity that made her smile.

CHAPTER FIVE

Natalia’s eyes were wide as she passed the podium in the lobby with the cousins on either side. Hurriedly saying goodbye, Marcy didn’t stop to explain.

Hudson would fill her in.

Just inside the front door, Fahad took a cell phone from his pocket and spoke in rapid Arabic. She took her own from her jacket and her security team picked up instantly.

“Fahad and Nuri Ghonim are escorting me home.” Glancing at the men, she added, “Their family has been connected to mine for many years. They have my trust but I know that won’t be enough. ”

“We’ll follow and call for final check. Your apartment is being secured now.” There was a pause. “You’ll have a security profile on your desk tomorrow morning, Miss Canfield.”

“Thank you.” She disconnected and followed Fahad and Nuri through the exit.

A heavy Mercedes limousine stood at the curb and she knew it was fortified against bullets as high as .50 caliber, ground to air missiles, and explosives detonated from underneath.

They walked through the exit and she nodded to Stav who grinned in response.

Four men met them at the top of the stairs and escorted them to the door that was held by their driver. There was no doubt that he was as highly trained as the other members of the team.

Once inside, the silence was heavy as she was settled snugly between the warm men.

Marcy had the uncontrollable urge to laugh. The cousins joined her. “Presidents have no concept. They are grown when this sort of security becomes second nature. I was five the first time I was taught to aid in my rescue.”

“It was the first of many lessons that you retained with remarkable clarity.”

Meeting Fahad’s eyes, she nodded. “Thank you.” Turning to Nuri, she asked, “Did you ever read the
Incarnations of Mortality
that we discussed?”

“All of them.” He chuckled. “We had never seen anyone read so much. You carried a book with you everywhere.”

“There are so many, I’ll run out of time before I can read all the ones I want to.” She glanced down at her folded hands. “I’ve had less time to read in the last few years.”

“Once the current project is complete, perhaps you will find a bit more time to breathe.” Fahad lifted her hand and held it in both of his. “You know this stage is the worst of it.”

“Removing the infighting and counter-purposes will help me speed the process along.”

Turning his body more toward her, Nuri asked, “Will you tell us what has happened since we last saw you? We follow any news of you we can find but it does not provide the entire picture.”

For the twenty-minute drive, Marcy answered their questions about school, work, and her personal life. As they pulled to the curb in front of her building, she said, “I’d love to hear about your lives the next time we meet.”

“A story we will be glad to tell.” The cousins’ security team assembled on the other side of the glass and she moved to get out. They held her in place long enough to lift her hands and kiss the backs. “Until we see you again, may your dreams be filled with light and beauty.”

On impulse, a sensation that
never
affected her, she kissed their cheeks in turn. The skin beneath her lips was warm and firm. She thought they inhaled deeply before she pulled back.

“Goodnight and thank you for seeing me home.”

Fahad tapped on the glass and the door was opened. When she was standing on the pavement in the midst of their security, she glanced back and gave them a smile.

“Goodnight, Marcy.”

***

December 2014

Over the next two months, Fahad and Nuri managed to find ways to spend time with her. She began to suspect that they were in league with her personal assistant, a woman who’d been assigned to her full time upon high school graduation.

Finally, she had to know. When the woman with delicate features and ash-blonde hair entered her office to get signatures, she asked, “Daria, are you feeding my schedule to the Ghonims?”

“Absolutely.” The bluntness of the answer shocked her. “You’re so much more relaxed after taking a bit of time to enjoy a meal with them. You smile more. You’re so young, Marcy. It’s good for you to be able to smile and laugh with people your age.”

“I spend time with you and Adam every day.”

“Pet, we are almost double your age, as is most of the board. Outside of the support staff, I think the youngest person you’ve seen in weeks is Mr. Winters.”

Walking to the window that looked out over Manhattan, she thought about the quick trips for coffee, the lunches at nearby restaurants, and the dinner she’d had to rush through to make her flight to San Francisco. Though she had limited time, the cousins didn’t pressure her for more or make her feel bad about her responsibilities.

They were the first men in her personal life that didn’t and she appreciated their ease with her. She hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in years.

Glancing over her shoulder at Daria, she smiled. “Thank you. Please continue to let them know when I’m available.”

“That’s the spirit.” With a wink, she left Marcy alone.

An hour later, she was deep in the financial summary for one of their subsidiaries when a splitting headache slammed into the back of her head. Making her way to the couch, she lowered herself to it.