Bent (The Gifted Series) (25 page)

              That minute was a ticking time bomb; the final seconds before the end of Marnie's career.  Her entire life was on the line over a lusty reaction to male hotness.

              Once he was out, Reagan dove in. “This guy’s a strong reader, I’ll give him that.” A few minutes passed before Reagan finally broke her hold and turned to Casey, insinuating nothing toward Marnie.  “He’s telling the truth.  He knew nothing about the kidnapping, and his initial claim is correct: there is no summer cabin.  Stephan’s waiting for Joss to make contact.  Which she probably has by now.”

              “And this Joss woman?  How does she expect to trade herself for Jessie?  Once she’s within Patrice’s hypnotics they’ll control her again and my daughter will be lost to us.”

              Reagan said nothing, pondering a plan, then her eyes darted to Sam.  “What if one of Patrice’s most trusted right-hand men manages to escape our capture and makes contact?”

              Casey frowned at Sam’s still body, considering the idea.  She then backed away toward the door, giving a resolved nod.  “Fine, but he’d better be convincing because if my daughter isn’t returned to me mentally and physically whole, I’m taking it out of his hide before I take off his head.”  With that she spun and left. 

              Camille was on her heels but paused at the door.  “I just spoke to Carter. They’re awaiting your word.”

              Reagan nodded, offering nothing else.

              Camille’s tense posturing exuded her frustration as she continued, “Look, I know there’s something between my brother and Joss.  It’s blindingly obvious that he cares about her, and he’s currently losing his mind with worry.  We need a plan and we need one now.”

              Reagan offered a hard yet sympathetic smile; one that implied she understood Camille’s emotional state but that she wouldn’t be forced. “We’re working on that, hon.  Sam should be stirring in the next ten minutes and we’ll devise a plan.”

              With a nod and a sigh, Camille headed out the door.  Once the locking mechanism clicked, Reagan spun, rounding on Marnie.  “And you have some serious explaining to do.  Making out with a
captive
, Marnie?  That was the last thing I expected to see.  What the hell were you thinking?”

              Marnie’s eyes bulged. 
She saw it all!
  Her hands thrust through her hair, her expression pure remorse, yet in her heart of heart’s she knew she felt zero regret about kissing him.  Yes, she regretted that he was a Landon associate and that the Landon’s were harming and kidnapping during her very brief make out session, but she didn’t regret her lips touching his.  They shared an unexplainable connection; she felt the rightness in that kiss and she was certain Sam did too. 

              She offered a sheepish shrug. “So you saw that, did ya?”

              “Hard to miss.  Apparently, it’s all
your
man can think about.  It was the first image that fluttered through.”

              “Shit!”

              “Yeah, ditto there, Miss Hot and Horny.  What the hell were you thinking, Marn?  And was that the only moment you two shared?”

              “Yes!  Reagan, I swear to you.  I’ll admit I’ve been ogling him.  I mean how could you not.” Her hand waved up and down his body.

              Reagan glanced his way and shrugged.  “So physically he’s a romance cover model;
mentally
he’s connected to Patrice, performing her dirty deeds.  Has lust superseded smarts, Marn?  Do you have any idea what Brett will say about this?”

              “Please, I know my actions were foolish. I ... I can’t justify .... I can’t explain why.  I just acted ... I felt—”

              Reagan cut her off. “Let me read you?”

              Without hesitation Marnie nodded, and within seconds Reagan filtered through Marnie’s thoughts.  She made no movement and said not a single word, just studied Marnie’s face judiciously. Once the connection was broken Marnie chanced a glance, dying to know how Reagan would interpret her crackpot attraction to Sam.

              “Dang it,” Reagan muttered low her shoulders relaxing a bit.

              “What?” Marnie’s tone was at panic levels.

              “You have strong feelings for this guy?”  Reagan’s head shook with disbelief, and when Marnie opened her mouth to defend—even though she had no idea where to begin—Reagan cut her off.  “Save your defense; there’s no explanation for sexual chemistry.  And you’ve both got a case of it.” A pause.  “Besides, I read your dedication to your job and friends as well as the anxiety that’s coursing your veins over all of this.” Reagan inhaled deeply while readjusting the pony tail at her nape.  Marnie noticed this to be a habit of Reagan’s, often when she was consumed with thought.  Finally, Reagan spoke, “I’ll keep it a secret.”

              Marnie released a sigh of relief as Reagan continued, “But you’ve got to stay clear of him.  I mean, we have no clue what Yarmen plans to do with him when all the current drama blows over, but I can guarantee he won’t be walking into an idyllic sunset any time soon. My suggestion to you: drop
Hotness
and run.”

              “I understand, and I have every intention of keeping my hands to myself.”

              “Might I suggest your mouth, too,” Reagan cracked; her lip twitching just as Sam’s body began to on the bed.             

Chapter 16

“It’s Samuel; put Patrice on.” Sam’s deadened tone held no humor as he spoke into the cell phone lying on the desk in Mattis’ office.  Directly next to it was another cell connected to Carter and the crew who anxiously awaited in Whitefish.

              “Ah, the prodigal son is alive and kicking.” Stephan mocked. “Let us all rejoice.”

              “Put her the fuck on, Stephan, and spare me your derision.  Why isn’t she answering anyway?  This is her cell?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest before eyeing Reagan, Marnie, and Mattis, who had just returned from the hospital where Carter Sr was recovering.

              Stephan spoke, “Well, I see your disposition hasn’t altered over the last couple of weeks.  You disappear without a trace—leaving Patrice furious by the way—and then call making demands.  Tread lightly, Mr. Harding.  Now, what do you want? Patrice is occupied for the time being.”

              “Occupied?”

              “Yes, something with her sister.  Who the hell knows or cares; Xandra, the family idiot, always needs guidance through the simplest of tasks.  So all you’ve got is me, Samuel.
 
Again
, where are you, and what are your needs?”

              Sam’s jaw tightened as he gazed upon the phone with pure loathing.  “For your information, I was captured by the SAA.”

              Hardy laughter shot through the receiver.  “Well, well, well, it appears your powder habit has finally caught up to you.  Getting sloppy, Sam.”  More snickering. “So they nabbed you when they seized our assassins.  Oh, Patrice will be so pleased.”

              “Save it, Stephan.  I’ve been held up in a
shit-box
motel for weeks, enduring
shit
withdrawals.  I just slipped their hold and need a rendezvous point.  Where should I head?” He then added in a grumbly tone, “Preferably back into the life of the living.”

              “Life of the living?” Stephan trilled, sounding skeptical.  “Seems to me you haven’t been living for quite some time.”

              At that comment, Sam’s eyes darted to Marnie’s.  The contact was brief but it was clear Sam felt self-conscious about Stephan’s comments.  And was there any truth to Sam’s remark?  I mean, why was it necessary to even make a comment like that. Doubt filled Marnie, but Sam’s response snapped her back from her scrutiny.

              “Time’s change,” he countered flatly. “And watch yourself, Stephan.  I’m clean now which means I give a shit what others say, so if I may paraphrase: tread lightly.” A silent pause. “Now, give me a locale, Stephan.”

              “Fine.  I’m held up in Seattle.  You know the location.”

              “Why Seattle? And what’s the
hold up
?” Sam feigned curiosity.

              “Retribution time.  They took one of ours, so we reciprocated and are now waiting to exchange packages.”

              Sam kept his tone blase. “Who’d they take?”

              A snort. “All of them actually, but Patrice wants her prized puppy returned.  Jocelyn in exchange for a sister of one of the agents.”

              “Hmm, sounds like I missed some excitement, but it doesn’t sound like I’m needed. So give me a number for Patrice, I’m sure my service can be utilized elsewhere.”

              “She’ll want you here.” His vexation at the notion rang clear. 

              Marnie noted the venom between the two; there was certainly no love loss going on.  Stephan continued, “And she should be en-route.” In another mocking tone, “Are you capable of making your way, or should I head to Western Union?”

              “Fuck off, Stephan.  When have I ever needed your assistance?  Just give me her number.”

              Another low laugh. “As much as I’m enjoying jerking your chain, I don’t have a contact number.”

              Sam scowled at this, but Stephan continued, “I suppose even the lady bitch needs to detach herself from the chaos every now and again. And it has been chaotic; that fucking agency has ripped their claws into multiple holdings, causing strife at every corner. No doubt they pulled information from your
weakened
brain.”

              “Careful,” Sam warned.

              Marnie’s eyes shot to his, watching as he barely maintained his composure; his facial expression could not be more lethal.

              Stephan continued in bored fashion, “I’ll give you additional details when you arrive.”

              “Fine,” Sam grumbled tightly, “I’ll be in contact.  If Patrice sees fit to make contact, pass that along.”  He disconnected the phone and glanced about the room.

              “Do you know the location?” Mattis asked.

              Sam nodded.  “Patrice owns a building of condominiums in a downtown location.  The first six floors are occupied, but the remaining six floors sit empty, except for the top floor which holds Patrice’s unit along with three others.”

              “You’re certain this is the location that he speaks of?” Marnie asked, stepping closer.

              Sam looked her straight in the eye and nodded again. “Yes.  I wouldn’t lie to you, Marnie.”  He then turned back to a scrutinizing Mattis; his eyes flicked between the two.

             
Way to be subtle
, Sam, Marnie thought, fighting an eye roll.

              Sam continued, “Jessie is more than likely being kept on the floor directly below.  If she’s there at all,” He tacked on; his eyes burrowed into the desktop before him.

              “Uh, come again,” Reagan said uneasily. “Do you believe Patrice has no intentions of honoring her word?  And if not, then where might she be.”

              A dry chuckle escaped. “This is a Landon we’re talking about.  Their interpretation of honor doesn’t match Webster’s version.” He zeroed in on Reagan.  “Like I should have to explain this to you.  Marcus would have left you mind warped for the rest of your life, and Patrice is just as ruthless.”  A snort. “They have no honor.  They have pride—self-adulation in abundant doses.”

              “Jesus, poor Jessie ... She must be out of her mind with worry,” Marnie added, her fingers shooting through her short locks.

              Sam cut in, “The only small reassurance I can offer is that Patrice went to see Xandra. That’s what got me questioning whether Jessie is actually there.  Patrice has left captives with Xandra before, and Patrice never visits Xan unless it suites her needs.”

              Marnie’s eyes narrowed at the
Xan
usage.  Good enough buddies to use nicknames ...hmm.

              “And how is this reassuring?” Carter barked through the phone, giving Marnie a start.  She’d spaced that they were on the other line.

              Sam answered, “Xandra hates this life as much as I do.
 
She’ll follow Patrice’s instructions, but she won’t behave cruelly toward anyone in her care; it’s not in her makeup.”
              “Care you call it?” Reagan snickered.  “You’re certain of this?  Have you two had past
pow-wows
about the trials of being in the Landon keep?”

              Sam’s eyes rolled. “Look, I’ve been around her enough to know that she’s trapped in the life she leads.  Staying in the Landon family circle offers security and protection.  With all the enemies the Landons have made through the decades, do you think any family member with half a brain is going to cut ties and risk life on their own?” He gave a snort. “Trust me, the only thing she and Patrice do have in common is intelligence.  She knows she’d be an instant target if she left.” 

              “Like you?” Reagan sneered.

              “Yes. Exactly like me.” Sam's strong gaze gave a resolute nod of acceptance.

              Mattis’ cursed. “Okay. Your theory makes sense.  So let’s assume the worst—that Jessie is now with Xandra.”

              Sam cut in, “Honestly, this is a best case scenario.  Again, Xandra won’t harm her; she’ll sympathize and take good care of her.”

              “He’s right,” Bowen piped in through the phone.  “Patrice and Marcus used me in Europe, so I spent time around Xandra; she cowers to her sister, but she won’t harm the girl.” 

              Carter’s curses could be heard in the background along with a graphic oath about destruction to anyone who harmed Jessie.

              “Let’s hope you’re right,” Mattis gravely replied then addressed all the agents. “So here’s the score, Casey and Carter Sr can’t know any of this until we confirm the validity of Sam’s speculation. As far as they’re concerned we maintain the belief that Jessie is in Seattle.” He turned to the phone.  “Carter, do you agree.”

              “Yes,” Carter gritted, anxiety obvious. “And I’m the one to tell my folks once we have confirmation.”  A reluctant hesitation. “Any word from Joss?”