The Devil's Own (Hellraisers 2)

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“But I don’t understand.”

“You’ve got that right, lady, you don’t understand.”

“Why are you snapping at me? I was only trying to thank you.” By now, Kerry, too, was angry. There was just no understanding this man. He wouldn’t let someone be nice to him. He was an unfeeling barbarian.

“So you’ve thanked me. Now drop it.”

“Gladly.” She started to scoot away, but noticed the fresh drops of blood oozing down his chest. “You made your shoulder bleed again.”

Indifferently, he looked down at it. “It’s all right.”

She took a square of gauze from the first-aid kit. “Here, let me—”

He caught her wrist before her hand made contact with his injured shoulder. “I said it’s all right. Just leave me alone, will you? As you’ve been so quick to remind me, we have a business arrangement only. That doesn’t include tending my wounds.” He lowered his voice. “Or kissing. Why’d you let me kiss you back there?” He moved his face closer to hers. “Why’d you kiss me back? Baby, your tongue was just as busy as mine. Don’t think I didn’t notice. Well, you could have spared yourself the trouble. I would have run just as hard, shot off just as many rounds of ammo, if you hadn’t.”

Kerry’s cheeks were hot with indignation. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“Maybe. But not as horrible as making sexual promises you don’t intend to keep.” His lip curled with contempt. “We’re even now, Sister Kerry. I hired out to do you a service. As soon as you pay me, I’m gone. Finis. I’ll click off a few shots of the kids getting off the airplane for their first sight of U.S. soil, then I’ll split. This whole goddamn mess will be history, and frankly, it can’t happen soon enough for me.”

Kerry snatched her hand out of his grip, glaring at him with patent dislike. Never in her life had she known anyone so hard and insensitive. “Goddamn mess.” That summed up what he thought of the orphans, their ordeal, and her. The disillusionment was cruel, but she had suffered disillusionment before. It was painful, but not fatal. One could survive and live to tell about it.

She put as much distance as possible between herself and Mr. Lincoln O’Neal, found as comfortable a space as the crowded fuselage afforded, and settled down to sleep for the remainder of the flight.

Cage nudged her awake. “We’re about fifteen minutes out, Kerry. I thought you might want to rouse the children.”

/> “How’s Joe?” The boy was moaning. His eyes were still closed, but he was fitfully rolling his head from side to side.

“Unfortunately he’s coming around. But I’m not going to give him anything else. I’ll let the doctor take it from here.”

“Cage,” she said, catching his sleeve when he moved toward the cockpit again. “I don’t want to face a crowd of reporters right now. The children will be frightened enough already. We’re all so dirty and tired. Can you arrange it?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re big news, Kerry, because of—”

“I know,” she interrupted quickly, aware that Linc could overhear everything they were saying. “But I’m sure you understand why I prefer privacy. For me and the children, not to mention the couples who are going to adopt them.”

“I understand, but I’m not sure the media will. Reporters have been camped out in La Bota for days, waiting for your arrival.” He saw her distress and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “But if you don’t want to be interviewed or have the children exposed to that kind of mayhem, that’s the way it’ll be. I’ll radio the sheriff now and tell him to cordon off the airport.”

“Thank you.”

The children, who were all wide awake now, were chattering excitedly as they peered out the windows. Kerry laughed at their bewildered comments about the flat West Texas landscape, which was so different from the jungle terrain they were accustomed to.

The experienced pilot made another perfect landing. When the plane taxied to a stop, the first priority was to get Joe to the waiting ambulance, which would rush him directly to the hospital. Cage jumped to the ground and conferred briefly with the doctor.

Linc swung down and looked for a pregnant lady with a camera. She wasn’t difficult to spot. Kerry was right. Jenny Hendren spelled lady from the top of her glossy brown hair to the toes of her shoes. “Mrs. Hendren?”

“Mr. O’Neal?”

They smiled at each other and she passed him the camera he had ordered. “A Nikon F3 with Tri-X film. I sent Gary to Amarillo to pick it up. We had to call around before finally locating one there.”

“Sorry for putting you to so much trouble.”

“I just hope it’s all right,” she said anxiously. “I barely know which end of a camera to point.”

Linc didn’t know who Gary was, but he was damned glad to have a camera in his hands again. “It’s perfect, thanks. I’ll settle up with you later.”