Flashing his badge again, Troy stated, “Ms. Wallace, we’re looking for a young woman we believe might be in trouble. I promise you, we’re here only to ensure her welfare.”
“Her name is Sandie, and this is hers.” Zach handed Hope the sketchpad and saw immediate recognition in her eyes as she took it.
“Where’d you get this,” she demanded.
“She left it with me last week. The sketch of this shelter is what led us here. Ms. Wallace, I don’t know Sandie well, but I do know she was afraid of something, or someone. I just want to be sure she is okay, that’s all.” Liar. Damn, nagging voice, Zach cursed in silence. Somehow, someway, during those few days alone on the Atlantic with her, Sandie had wormed her way past his defenses and had come to mean more to him than any other woman he’d had a relationship with. How much more and how far he wanted to take them remained to be figured out, but for now, he’d settle for discovering she was safe.
“You’re Zachary?”
“Yes,” he answered, surprised Sandie had spoken of him. “Is she here?”
Handing him back the pad, her eyes flickered toward Miles then away again before she replied. “I’m sorry, no. She stayed one overnight last weekend then took a bus to Pensacola. I haven’t heard from her since.”
“And who is responsible for your recent injuries?” Troy asked, nodding to her wrist.
Her face paled and those wide eyes shifted back to Miles again in uncomfortable awareness of the deep rumble from his throat and steady, black-eyed gaze. “Shit, Cavenaough, tone it down, would you?” Zach hissed under his breath as Troy cut him a sharp, rebuking glance.
Indecision warred on Hope’s face as she took a moment to size them up again. Their patience paid off because her tense shoulders relaxed and she released a pent-up breath on a soft sigh. “Two men cornered me at my car two nights ago, as I was leaving, asking the same questions. They didn’t like my answer, which was I’d never seen anyone with that description or had anyone in the shelter who went by that name. They really didn’t like it when I refused to allow them admittance to check for themselves. Security sent them on their way.”
“Not soon enough. Fire them.”
Troy rolled his eyes at Miles’ blunt rebuke. “Fill out a report. Are these the men?” He took the pad from Zach and flipped to the page of the two men in front.
“Yes, that’s them. She’s got talent.” Handing the sketches back to Zach, she looked at just him for one of those brief moments, as if sizing him up, then nodded her head. “I think you’ll be good for her. She could use someone in her corner if you can get her to open up. I suggest you check shelters in Pensacola and further north, and that’s all I have for you, gentlemen. Good luck.”
Before she could turn to leave, Miles handed her a card. “Anytime,” was all he said before pivoting and walking out the door.
“Now where?” Zach asked Troy as soon as they joined Miles by his car, impatience shimmering inside him.
“Let me and Trevor drive home and make a few calls then we’ll contact you. It’d be futile to just take off to another city and barge in on more shelters. People seek them out as safe havens for good reasons, and not all the managers will be as accommodating, regardless of my badge. It was obvious Ms. Wallace had bonded with your Sandie and wanted to help.”
Zach didn’t like it, but Troy had a point. And if they hit one shelter, and she wasn’t there, there wasn’t any way to stop the head of that place from calling around with a warning that might send her fleeing again, if she hadn’t already done so. Damn stubborn woman. He swore when he did find her, he’d make sure sitting would be uncomfortable for a good long while for all the grief she’d caused him.
By the time they returned to his apartment, Jackson had just left after receiving an emergency veterinary call. Troy and Trevor promised to get back to him that evening before they followed Miles and also took off. Sean stood staring at Zach’s array of photos lining the fireplace mantle, turning when he entered then gazing with that quiet speculation that grated on his nerves.
“What?” he demanded, hoping he wasn’t in for a psychobabble lecture. Okay, he admitted the unfairness of that thought. Sean may toss out a suggestion here and there or offer unsolicited advice once in a while, but he never lectured or probed too intimately unless one of them asked him for advice.
Walking toward him, Sean said, “Do yourself a favor. Take a good look at your mother’s face in those pictures then quit beating yourself up because you weren’t perfect. Who knows? Maybe someday, you’ll have a son who gives you grief as a teenager and she’ll have her payback.”
“Bite your tongue.”
Sean’s laugh echoed down the hall as he strode toward the elevator, waving without turning around. An image of a green-eyed, sandy-haired boy popped into Zach’s head. Shutting his door, he groused, “Hell maybe I do need a shrink.”
Sandie huddled on the narrow cot and gazed with unseeing eyes at the other people in the shelter, wondering what their story was, how they’d ended up in such dire circumstances. The despair and loneliness she’d lived with since fleeing Alabama had only increased since sneaking off Zachary’s boat in the early morning hours. Fearing she would beg him to turn around and take her back out to the freedom of the open ocean, safe and far away from Jacques’ henchmen, she’d slipped off before he awoke and had missed him every second since. She didn’t know if it was the man she craved as she struggled to get a few hours’ sleep each night in strange surroundings, the awesome sex he’d shown she’d been missing out on or the safety he and his extravagant floating home represented. Considering her circumstances, it was doubtful she’d ever find out.
Heaving a sigh, she picked up her backpack and slid off the cot, knowing it was time to move on again, but reluctant to do so. After spending one more night at Hope’s Crossing, her temporary home in Miami, fear of discovery prompted her to ask Hope for the names of shelters she could bunk in while traveling north. Ignoring her friend’s plea for her to stay, she’d hopped on a bus and hadn’t looked back. But as she’d soon learned, she didn’t need to glance behind her to think of Zachary, to remember those few days of sun and sex and fun.
Why his surly attitude hadn’t put her off, she couldn’t understand, but one intense look out of those cobalt-blue eyes and the urge to melt into a puddle at his feet took over. Then he’d touched her. She’d never given alternative sexual practices a thought, never wondered if she’d enjoy bondage or get off on light pain, but now that she knew how much she did, it would be impossible to go back to vanilla. Not that she’d be doing either for the foreseeable future. She couldn’t hold back a sigh of despondency as she maneuvered between the narrow beds and left the communal sleeping quarters to let the office know she wouldn’t be returning.
Her chest tightened with each step she took toward the door. She didn’t want to stay, there was nothing here in Pensacola for her, but she was so tired of always being on the move, of the stress of trying to stay one step ahead of men who would most likely kill her if they found her. Neither of her stepfather’s goons had been around when she’d kept to the shadows a week ago, sneaking away from the Gold Star Marina with as much stealth as she’d left Zachary’s boat, and she hadn’t caught a glimpse of them anywhere else. Maybe she could return, she contemplated as she exited the shelter through a back door and stepped out to a side street. The piercing ache to do so, to see Zachary scowl at her, hear the irritation in his voice, feel the electric touch of his hands and mouth, nearly brought her to her knees. God, I must be more tired than I thought. That’s what happened when you went days on catnaps; you wished for the impossible.
Out of habit, she cast a quick look up and down the quiet street, noted a few parked cars and one van, but no one on the sidewalk before hiking toward the intersection and bus stop. The bright, early afternoon sun drew perspiration on her neck, the humidity turning the air stifling and her breathing labored. With her head down and her mind wandering to afternoons on a bobbing
boat deck with the cool ocean mist spraying her naked, burning flesh and Zachary’s hard hand tormenting her butt, she didn’t notice the side door on the van sliding open as she neared. The sudden appearance of a man jumping in front of her startled her into awareness. Heart in her throat, she took a hasty step back as she came face to face with the man who’d held a gun to another man’s temple, and she realized her inattention and daydreaming might’ve just cost her her life.
Chapter 11
Zach grabbed the front door of the third shelter in Pensacola they’d tried today then stopped cold when a startled scream rent the air before being cut off with such abruptness, his heart stopped for a split second of terror. Without waiting to see if Troy, Trevor or Miles were following, he dashed around the corner of the building in time to see Sandie struggling against a large man who had one hand clamped over her mouth and his other arm locked around her waist as he tried shoving her into the back of an idling van.
His blood running ice-cold, he ran forward and snaked an arm around her assailant’s neck. Surprise aided his chokehold, and the man loosened his arms enough for her to break free. Before the guys could reach them, the fucking bastard took him off guard with a twist and a painful, backward kick against his shin. Before he could catch his breath, the son-of-a-bitch jerked away and dove into the van, yelling, “Go!” while still struggling to slam the side door shut. His breathing labored, Zach watched the two thugs speed away, Miles barely missing getting clipped when forced to jump out of the way before he could snatch the driver’s door handle.
“Oh, my God, oh my God, what have you done? They saw you!”
Sandie’s terrified whisper broke through the red haze clouding his vision and Zach stormed over to her. Clasping her shoulders, he fought between the desire to haul her against him and hold tight and the urge to toss her over his lap and whip her ass for scaring ten years off his life and putting herself in jeopardy. “Are you all right?” he demanded, his voice a rough whisper of concern he didn’t flinch from.
“I… I think so, but… what are you doing here?” Those wide green eyes clung to his face as she all but devoured him with a look of frightened disbelief. It dawned on him her fear appeared more for him than herself.
“Someone has to save you from yourself. Now, the real question is, what’re you doing here and who were those men?” he growled. A bruise was already forming on her cheek and the urge to beat on her assailant wouldn’t let up.
“Maybe we can save the interrogation until we get someplace where we’re not drawing a crowd.” Trevor’s amused tone drew his head around to see his three friends who’d given up their morning to help him search for Sandie, standing in a semi-circle behind him, small, identical grins tugging at the brothers’ mouths. Miles stood with arms folded across his chest, one sardonic brow lifted in silent speculation as he looked from Zach to Sandie.
Nodding, he shifted his hands down her arms, took her backpack in one and her hand with the other then tugged her toward his car. “Come on. You can explain in the car.”
“I can explain?” Yanking on her hand, she worked to swallow back the bile churning in her stomach from the close call and fear for Zachary and his friends now that the men after her had seen their faces. Much to her frustration, he ignored her attempt to pull away from his hold and remained silent as he led her around the corner and to a sporty, dark blue BMW. “I can’t go with you, Zachary,” she protested when he opened the door for her. “You don’t understand. They’ll come after me again, and now you.” Casting a desperate look at the other three men, she searched for an ally and found the same stoic resolve reflected on their faces as on Zachary’s. “Really?” She glared up at him in disbelief, annoyance and a touch of pleased awe. He picked a heck of a time to show concern over her welfare. “What happened to you wanting to get rid of me as soon as possible?”
“Yeah, Zach, what happened?” The tall man sporting a sexy beard smirked, and she detected a twinkle in his dark brown eyes.
“Okay, enough.” Showing her a police badge, the one who had to be related to him said, “I’m Detective Troy Carlson with Pensacola PD. If you’re in some kind of trouble…”
Waving her free hand, shaking from fear-induced adrenaline overload, the throbbing covering one side of her face and overwhelming pleasure at seeing Zachary again despite the danger he’d put himself in, she cut the detective off. No way would she endanger them further. “No, thank you, all of you,” she added, switching her eyes back up to Zachary who still refused to relinquish his hold on her hand. “It was nothing, a misunderstanding. I…” Her voice caught, and she had to swallow down the lump wedged in her throat before continuing under his laser-intent gaze. “I need to…”
“Come with me until I know you’re safe. No more discussion. Get in the car, Sandie. Unless you want my friend to take you to the station to fill out an incident report?”
She knew him well enough to know the implacable determination etched on his dark face meant he wouldn’t be swayed, at least not without a lot of conniving teasing like she’d done on the boat to get her way. Her face grew warm and tingles started in her sheath at the thought of coming onto him in front of his three hot friends, and the consequences if she pushed him too far. God, she really had it bad for this man, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Nodding, she thanked the brothers before they slid into the car parked in front of Zachary’s. Releasing her hand, she ignored his indication she should get in the front seat and opted for the back instead. Settling on the soft, supple leather, she breathed a sigh of relief when the man with piercing midnight eyes took her place up front.
She watched Zachary walk around to the driver’s side, slide behind the wheel then met his eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Sandie, this is a good friend of mine, Miles Cavenaugh. Troy introduced himself, but not his brother, Trevor, who’s a district attorney.”
“Nice to meet you, Miles. Thank you for your timely intervention.”
“You’re welcome, but the bastards got away.” Miles’ broad, tense shoulders accompanied the anger in his deep voice.
“I’m the one who actually rescued you,” Zachary complained as he pulled away from the curb.
“Yes, but I don’t know if I want to thank you yet—where are we going?”
“Back to Miami, and my place where you’ll be safe.”
“But for how long?” she muttered under her breath, switching her gaze out the window. A part of Sandie was thrilled to be with Zachary again, and she relished the sense of security and spark of optimistic hope his unexpected arrival brought about. But what if Jacques’ henchmen suspected the only two cars parked in front of the shelter belonged to the men who’d thwarted their kidnapping attempt? They had sped right by them, and one could have made note of the plate numbers. The thought of them coming after Zachary sent a cold slither down her spine, the nausea she’d fought back returning to settle in her throat. As soon as they got to his place, she had to convince him to let her go, for his own sake. She couldn’t bear it if she were responsible for harm coming to him, or one of his friends. She recalled how close he’d mentioned they were. Worrying about her mother and Billy’s welfare was all she could handle right now.
The low murmurs from the front seat combined with the smooth ride and soft seat played on Sandie’s exhaustion and soon lulled her into nodding off. Her last thought being she’d just shut her eyes for a few minutes.
Zach opened the back door and noticed the dark smudges under Sandie’s eyes as she lay slumped against the seat, her light snores the only sound in the car now. Shaking his head, he reached in and shook her awake. She could sleep later. “Come on, baby, wake up. I’m not about to carry you up.”
With slow blinks, she lifted her lids and looked at him in confusion for a moment before her brain cleared. Scooting out, she glared up at him, trembling from either exhaustion, fear, anger or a combination of all three. “I have to go, Zachary.”
Ignoring her and the anger her swolle
n cheek stirred, he grabbed her bag and hand and led her to the elevators. She kept up the tirade as the doors swooshed closed and the elevator began its smooth ascension.
“I mean it. You can’t just haul me around, force me to stay here. It’s not safe, for either of us. I don’t know what they know, but it’s not worth the risk.”
The doors opened on the penthouse floor and he tugged her out. “Since you won’t tell me anything, I can’t answer any of your concerns.” Slipping his key card in the lock, he waited for the click then ushered her in, dropping her bag and flipping on the lights as she continued.
“I can’t tell you, I told you that on the boat—holy crap, I forgot how freakin’ rich you are.”
Her wide-eyed sweep of his luxury suite would’ve been comical if her statement didn’t remind him about how she’d never asked him for anything except a few days of pleasure to forget her troubles. Dropping her hand, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Exactly. So, why didn’t you ask me for help instead of sneaking off my yacht with as much stealth as you snuck on?”
Surprise colored her voice as she replied, “I’d never endanger you, or anyone else with my problem.”
Then she began pacing around the great room, reiterating he had to let her leave, but all he heard was her selfless reply. Impotent anger churned in his gut and grew to combustible rage when she picked up a picture on the mantle of him and his mother, the only other woman who had asked nothing of him and whom he hadn’t been able to help.
“Who’s this? She’s pretty. Is she your mom?”
“Was. Now quit pushing me, Sandie. You and that juicy cunt of yours are in enough trouble.” She winced at the deliberate crudeness, but damn it, he couldn’t help it, he still shook from the close call of almost losing her. The only other time his emotions had been in such a volatile turmoil was when he’d heard his mother’s diagnosis. Under the anger, fear lurked he would fail to help Sandie the way he had his mother, because she was right, he couldn’t force her to stay with him. But as he stalked toward her and he caught the familiar spark of lust in her eyes, he realized he didn’t need to use threats. All he had to do was play on how much she liked his control.