Circle of Danger (22 page)

 

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
S
IX

“Y
ou really think we didn't expect your people to try to rescue you?” Mulcahy's pleasure in recapturing the leader of The Circle was obvious from his sneer.

Strapped to a straight-back chair in the middle of the dingy one-room shack, Ryker wiggled his fingers and toes to bring back some feeling. The plastic ties bit into his wrists and ankles without mercy.

If Marie stayed in the tree until daylight, she would be safe. By then he would be free and his fist pummeling Mulcahy's face. Or dead and the asshole satisfied that they had split up.

“So where did you put the locator?” He'd suspected as much when the Jet Skis showed up. From the toothy grin Mulcahy gave him, he knew for sure. No way in the large vastness of the Gulf could they have found them without help.

“Does it really matter?” Mulcahy stopped in front of his chair. With one arm across his chest, holding the elbow of the other, he tapped a finger against his thin lips. Then he tilted his head and stared hard at Ryker. “Why would you leave Marie to fend for herself? You obviously love her. Her feelings appear to be mutual. She tries to hide it, but you should've seen her face as you fought in the arena. I had a hard time holding back the laughter. She's a terrible actress and lousy operative. You should find her another job. Wait. You already have one for her, don't you? Warming your bed.“

Ryker's whole body shuddered inside. The need to smash the man's face almost caused him to lose control. The bastard thought he'd won. For now. An opportunity would come and when it did, Ryker would make sure only one of them walked away alive.

One of the men lit a kerosene lamp sitting in the middle of a rough-hewn table positioned against a wall. The dirty windows above it no longer glowed from the late evening sun. Just a few more hours and maybe Marie would be safe. From the way Mulcahy eyed him with such hatred, Ryker felt certain he either planned to kill him and dump his body in the marsh or take him back to the island to be killed.

“A job you would love to take over.” Ryker lifted a shoulder to swipe off the blood from his busted lip. He glanced over at two of Mulcahy's men. At least their faces looked as if someone had used them for batting practice. Damn. It stung like hell to smile.

“Ha! So right.” Mulcahy's bitter laugh filled the room. Then his gaze lifted above Ryker's head. Someone caught his attention. “What's your problem?” He snapped.

“I heard something outside.” The man cleared his throat. “Maybe I better go see.”

“Do you think?” Mulcahy glared and jerked his head toward the door. “Stevens, go with him.”

“Top of the food chain you got there, Mulcahy.” Whatever he did, he needed to keep his gaze anywhere but on the window. Hell, he prayed Marie remained in the tree and that the noise had come from an alligator. Chances were slim that one of his operatives had tracked him down.

The man sneered. “I had expected to find Ice or Jack with you. They disappeared about the same time as you. Doesn't matter. If I ever see either of them again, they're dead. I'm tired of messing around. You and your organization wouldn't stay out of my business. What's a dead woman or a handful to you? You've probably killed more than that in a week. Maybe that's where I went wrong. I should've paid you to stay out of it or hired you to kidnap the women. Money is what motivates people like you.” He pulled another chair from the table and sat with his legs crossed at the knees.

“Some things money can't buy.”

Mulcahy leaned to one side to pull out a knife from his pants pocket and flipped it open. “I wonder how well you'd fight in the arena without your remaining eye.” He ran his finger lightly up and down the blade.

If he'd hoped for a reaction, the idiot was mistaken. Ryker ignored the screaming horror inside of becoming blind. He didn't want to give Mulcahy the satisfaction of seeing him scared. Even if he survived, his usefulness to The Circle would come to an end. So losing his sight wasn't an option. Compared to his brother, Ryker possessed more brawn than brains. He'd come to that realization soon after taking over The Circle. But after the first several missions failed, he'd quickly learned to listen to others. He was teachable.

“Where's Letitia? Have you already killed her?” Ryker asked.

“Kill Letitia? The woman is like a cat. She has nine lives. Considering how reckless she is, she's probably on number six, the vindictive, licentious bitch. But no, she's too valuable. So be happy she remained behind on the island. She would love nothing better than to geld you.” He chuckled and threw the knife between Ryker's feet. The thin blade quivered as it pierced the wood floor. “Her ‘test subjects' destroyed her lab. So it will be a few months before she can make up new batches of Morning Glory and Blossom Flower. Then we'll start selling it. We've already sent out samples to several countries. I'm surprised by the number of people in the U.S. who want to test it. Supply and demand. That's what rules the world. Much can be learned from OPEC.”

Mulcahy nodded toward the man looking out the window. “Jones, go see what's taking them so long. No, you stay here, Santiago. Enough people will be tramping around outside.” The remaining guard leaned against the wall with his arms folded. Despite the man's relaxed pose, Ryker could tell his lanky frame hid toned muscles brought about by extreme training. Not the average guard.

“What? Are you afraid to stay here with me alone?” He doubted any amount of taunting would see Mulcahy letting him go and would most likely get him another beating, but he couldn't resist smarting off. Now only if he could find a way to grab the knife and cut his ties. Then before the asshole knew what was coming, the handle would be sticking out of his chest.

As soon as the door behind Ryker closed, a scream ripped through the air outside the window, followed by several shots.

Mulcahy picked up the knife and headed for the door.

Fingers clasping the chair's arms, Ryker threw his body to one side, falling into Mulcahy's path, knocking him off his feet. Assured by the sound of the knife skittering across the floor, Ryker waited¯little else he could do while on the floor like a turtle on its back¯for what would happen next.

“You son of a bitch! I should've killed you and let Letitia be dammed!” As Mulcahy regained his feet, the door burst open.

Unable to twist around, Ryker watched Mulcahy's face for some idea of what was happening. The man's eyes widened in bemusement, and he remained still.

What happened? Were they hauling in Marie? Had they hurt her? Ryker shifted back and forth, trying to get the chair to move. He stopped when he heard the voice he dreaded.

“Y
ou've been watching too many movies, Mulcahy. You'll be on the floor dead or bleeding out before you even reach the knife. So do you really want to take a chance?”

Desperate to hide her nervousness, Marie held the pistol with both hands. Jack told her often enough that whenever she entered a hostile environment, the situation needed to be controlled within the first two minutes or all hell would break loose. She hadn't expected the rawboned, dark-haired man in the corner eyeing her with such interest. And Mulcahy's confused look irritated her to no end. What was his problem? Did he believe she wouldn't shoot?

With her attention split between the stranger and Mulcahy, she hated ignoring Ryker tied to a chair and helpless. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as the chair began to rock. Ryker's struggling relieved her worries about whether or not she'd arrived too late.

“Marie, my men will return any minute.” Mulcahy stepped a little closer. “If you want you and your lover to live a little longer, you'll put that gun down.”

“Stay right there.” Deep inside, she wanted him to keep moving. Nothing would make her feel better than to shoot the man and throw his body outside for the alligators and snakes.

She got her wish. He dove for the knife. As she squeezed the trigger, the other man leaped toward her. All hell broke loose as Ice and Jack charged in shooting. Explosions fired off over her head as she landed on her side with a limp body resting on top. Her head slammed into the floor. Men shouted and footsteps rushed out of the room. The other guard had escaped.

Her vision blurred from the blow. She looked a couple feet away at Mulcahy. His unseeing eyes stared wide in surprise. She'd killed him. He deserved it, but she'd never killed anyone before. The nausea nearly engulfed her. She felt like she was floating in another dimension, as she watched the blood pool near his body and slip in between the wooden planks.

“Fucking hell! Get these ties off me!” Ryker's voice echoed. “Marie!”

The room dimmed. She closed her eyes and smiled as she drifted into the darkness. He was alive.

M
arie opened her eyes. Ryker's beautifully scarred face leaned over hers. A new black patch covered his right eye. She was in his lap, her cheek pressed to a hard bicep and his arms wrapped tight around her.

The whoop-whoop of helicopter blades caught her attention.

“How did you get Spirit into the marsh?” She craned her neck. Out the window, miles and miles of waving grass and cypress trees moved beneath the travelling helicopter.

“We didn't. I carried you back to the beach and we loaded up there.” He swept a few strands of hair from her face. “You've lost a lot of weight. When we get back to Sector, I'm going to feed you pancakes and ice cream every day.”

“With maple and chocolate syrup?” The ends of her lips tilted up though she tried not to smile. From the concerned look on his face, she wanted to keep a straight face.

“Both, on it all, if you want.” He grinned back.

She licked her swollen lips and blinked to clear her eyes. Everything came back to her. When Mulcahy had scrambled for his knife and in the split second she'd squeezed the trigger, she'd had an epiphany. She'd never told Ryker her true feelings, and if they died in the middle of the Everglades without her having a chance to express them, her life would be wasted. Taking a chance with her heart was worth finding out the truth.

“I have something important to tell you.”

“Shh. Doc flew down from Sector and is waiting for us in Orlando. As soon as he gives the okay, we'll head home.” His thumb rubbed across her chapped lips.

She cupped the side of his scarred face. “I have more than a crush. I love you, Arthur. Surely you've realized that by now.”

Not since she was a kid had she called him by his given name.

His thumb stopped moving and he stared at her. She swore he stopped breathing. Was he trying to find a kind way of letting her down?

He released a sigh and said gruffly, “By God, you better. You took twenty years off my life when you burst into that shack. If Ice and Jack hadn't been seconds behind you, I . . . I . . . ah, hell! I love you more than life.”

Warmth and strong arms surrounded her as he lifted her to meet his mouth. The gentle kiss brought tears to her eyes. All the pain and suffering this man had endured, and he still knew how to be tender and loving. She grabbed two handfuls of hair and tugged hard as she opened her mouth wider, wanting more of his taste and to swallow his groan of arousal.

He clasped her wrists and moved her hands to her waist. “Wait until we have some privacy. Otherwise, the fellows here will get more of a show than they've already had.”

She looked over her shoulder. Ice, slouched in the opposite seat, appeared to be asleep. Skin bruised and his light eyes shining with fever, Jack, stretched out across two places, glanced at her for a second and winked.

Blushing, she smiled and closed her eyes, burrowing into Ryker's embrace.

“I can wait.”

He squeezed her and grunted. The thick, hard cock pressing against her buttocks warned she wouldn't have long to wait.

In an effort to take her mind off sex, she asked, “Did I really kill Mulcahy?” She cringed. Not exactly the direction she wanted to go, but she needed to know.

“I doubt those girls' parents care who killed the man partly responsible for their daughters' deaths. Just know you did what was needed. You've proven you have what it takes to be a Circle operative.” He squeezed her and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

Despite being drawn and pale, he looked wonderful to her. Her fingertips glided over his beard-roughened chin and cheeks. She never remembered seeing him as anything but clean-shaven. This gave him a more dangerous image than usual. She liked it. Maybe she could talk him into keeping a moustache and goatee. No matter, he would look good to her.

An old saying came to her mind.
Pretty is as pretty does.

Mulcahy had been a handsome man, but so ugly inside. Shooting Blossom Flower into those girls so they would do his bidding and make him rich, he had no compassion for the many lives he destroyed. What type of childhood would create a monster like him?

“What are you going to do with his body? Does he have family?”

Without looking at her, Ryker said, “Family? I have no idea. We don't have to worry about it anyway. No body.”

When he didn't say anything more, she tugged on his hair. He opened his eye and glared at her.

Ignoring his feigned irritation, she asked, “What happened to the body?” Did she really want to know? Yeah. Otherwise, she would have nightmares, believing he was still alive.

“Let's say the alligators were well fed today.”

Her stomach churned. Well, she had asked.

“What of Letitia? We need to make sure she can't make any more of those drugs.” Marie's finger carefully traced the bruises and cuts along Ryker's collarbone. She remembered the night in the tent. Even in the dark, she'd seen the painful wounds left from fighting in the arena. He would most likely have many more scars.