Lace Underground: The Complete Trilogy Page 30

  "Can I just shut him up?" Oscar gets his fist ready.

  "No, as much as I'd like to see it, boss said to leave him alone."

  I sit back just as glad not to be hit in the face or gut again. I'm already feeling like shit from the whole damn thing, including being slipped a sedative in the drink. I'm not thinking straight and have to gain my bearings more to keep one step ahead. Which, considering Freestone always seems to be two steps ahead, isn't going to help much. Even if I find an opportunity to escape or avoid what seems to be my imminent death, I won't go without Ten. I can't leave her with Freestone another day. He's a fucking drug dealer and control freak. She needs to be free of him and soon.

  A trip through town makes it easy to see we are in the Caribbean Islands. Tourists and locals are going about their day, riding bicycles, tasting fruits at the market and carrying towels and surfboards to the beach. We seem be getting closer to the azure blue sea.

  "Don't tell me"—I break the fun silence in the van—"We're heading to the boss's yacht."

  "You're not as stupid as you look," Jason mutters.

  "Just one more question." I toss it out before either can stop me. "Is she at the yacht?"

  Oscar is still peering out the window as he speaks. "Mr. Freestone left with her hours ago. We got stuck waiting for you to wake up from your beauty nap."

  "That's sweet of you two, really."

  The van pulls into a parking lot in front of a nice yacht club. A sprawling marina filled with expensive pleasure boats stretches out into turquoise blue water. It's a piece of tropical paradise for the rich. I can't help thinking it's also the last place I'll see unless I figure a way out . . . with Ten.

  I lift my cuffed hands. "Don't you think these are going to look a little out of style at a posh yacht club?"

  Oscar picks up his coat from the seat next to him and drops it over my hands to hide them.

  I shrug. "Simple solution. Maybe you're actually smarter than you look too."

  For the first time since my captivity, Oscar pulls out a hand gun from the back of his belt.

  "Well shit, big O, didn't know you were packing heat."

  "Then you might not have had such a smart mouth, eh?"

  I pause to consider his suggestion. "Nah, that probably wouldn't have made a difference."

  Jason opens the door. "Shouldn't we tip the driver?" I ask as I scoot out behind him with Oscar's gun planted firmly in my kidney.

  We walk pretty fucking conspicuously, three big guys who don't look like your typical yacht club members, along the docks. Some of the other boaters lift their expensive sunglasses and peer over their highball glasses to check us out before returning to their get togethers and suntan sessions.

  Freestone's yacht is impressive, but then I was expecting it. I can see the asshole sitting on deck looking at something on his phone. He's switched out his shirt and pants for shorts and a polo shirt. I hate every damn thing about the guy, the set of his jaw, the way he talks, even the way he combs his fucking hair.

  My pace slows for no other reason except I'm disappointed in not seeing Ten out on deck. What has he done with her? My lagging steps earn me a revolver barrel in my back. "Move faster. We don't want to attract any attention," Oscar mumbles.

  I laugh loud enough to grab Freestone's attention from his phone. He lifts his glasses as if he needs to see clearer to know that the three, big overdressed men lumbering down the dock are his three visitors and not some other trio of out of place looking guys.

  I'm led to the gangplank leading onto the deck. I search frantically around the boat as I climb on board.

  "Where is she?" I say before my feet are even settled on deck. The sedative has cleared my system completely. It's being quickly replaced by adrenaline. I should have never let myself succumb to the drug. I should have never accepted his drink offer. At the time, I thought it might take off the edge. It definitely did that.

  Freestone doesn't get up. "Detective, welcome aboard. Can I get you a drink?"

  An angry laugh shoots from my mouth. "Yeah, not falling for that twice. Where is Angie?"

  "I'm here," Ten's voice comes from behind. I can see instantly from her eyes that he's pumped her full of his damn drug again. She is wearing a skimpy sundress, a dress she never would have picked for herself. The controlling maniac is even telling her what to wear. I'm relieved to see she's not wearing the leather cuffs. As she steps into the sunlight, I can see her lips are swollen. He's been kissing her. She's been kissing him. I try and shake that idea loose. She's under his spell with that stupid drug. She never would have kissed him otherwise. It's the wrong time to be trying to make myself feel better but I can't stop. I hate that he touches her. I hate his fucking plane and his yacht. I hate his two goons. I fucking hate him.

  Ten walks up to me and scowls down at the gun jammed in my back. Surprisingly, Oscar pulls it away and pushes it into his belt.

  "Oscar, show him below so he can take a shower. But leave the handcuffs on," Freestone adds. "After he gets cleaned up bring him on deck for some lunch." Freestone walks over and takes hold of Ten's hand. Rage makes the breath stick in my chest as he leads her to the stern to sit down. Ten's face is averted, but she lifts her brown eyes for a brief second to lock gazes with me before Oscar drags me away for my shower. I can usually read her face, her expression, but she's dosed up with Freestone's poison.

  36

  Angie

  The tray of sandwiches looks tempting. I take one and stand up to lean against the railing, purposefully avoiding sitting next to Kane. So much has passed between us in a short amount of time but he's even more of a stranger to me than when we first met. All this time, he knew who I was, he knew I'd come to the Lace Underground to bring him down. It explains some things, like the ominous prediction that I would cause his downfall. But I still have a million questions.

  "I'm glad to see you eating again." Kane puts his phone down.

  "Me too. You told me you were giving me an injection of the appetite stimulant, but I know the feel of the nectar in my bloodstream. You snuck some in after I told you I didn't want any."

  "I did it for your own good. You've had a stressful day, and the nectar was wearing off. I figured I'd save you the pain and grief. Besides, the withdrawals would counter any of the effects of the appetite drug."

  "Great. So thanks to you I'm one big pharmaceutical mess."

  His eyes are less cold. There is some true regret in his expression. It helps draw me across the deck to sit near him at the bow.

  "Just so you know," I say. "I might have come in here on a ruse but the moments when we were—" I swallow, unable to say it without it stirring up desire. "I felt a deep connection with you. I just wanted to say that."

  He sits back. "It was the nectar."

  "No, it wasn't. I mean, yes, part of it. The physical part. Shit, it's potent stuff. But there were times when my head was clear and the ache between my legs would cool, and I'd still think about you walking through the bedroom door. You see yourself as someone incapable of being loved, but I think you're selling yourself short."

  His blue eyes narrow. "Guess you'll say anything to keep that man in there from harm."

  I sit up straighter as if slapped. "I pour out my heart and you answer snidely. Fuck you. Maybe I'm wrong then. And yes, I'll do anything to keep Maddox from harm because that's what people do for people they love."

  His cement expression finally cracks. "So you do love him?"

  "That's the part that sticks in your craw? Yes. I do. We've been partners for years, watching each other's backs, finishing each other's thoughts. That's what people do when they form connections to other humans. You should try it sometime." I hop up. He takes hold of my wrist before I can walk away. The perfect row of scars on his arm stands out under the bright sun.

  "I envy him."

  I'm surprised by his words. I turn back to him.

  "I have money to buy anything, but James Maddox has the one thing I want."

&nb
sp; I shake my head and pull my hand away. "You don't want me. You want the submissive little angel who is willing to spread her legs at the slightest touch. It's been a nice few months of fantasy, Kane. You've helped me see sides of myself that I never knew existed, but I don't want to feel this way anymore. I want to think straight again. I want all of me back. I want that girl back who first looked at you through that one way mirror. That's the real me."

  He releases my hand just as footsteps come up from below deck. Maddox's long hair is wet and dripping down on a new clean shirt. His hands are still cuffed together. His green eyes flinch when he sees how close I'm standing to Kane. I step discretely back from him.

  "Mr. Maddox, here are a few sandwiches. Come eat some lunch."

  Maddox walks over and stares down suspiciously but also hungrily at the food.

  "It's fine. No more sedatives," Kane says. "Eat. Afterward, I'm going to let you two have some time to talk. Alone."

  I look at Kane. He nods to let me know he's serious.

  Maddox grabs two sandwiches and sits down to eat.

  37

  Maddox

  "No cameras in here." Oscar shuts the door. Ten and I are standing in a small bedroom, plainly furnished with a bed, a dresser and one porthole for natural light

  Finally free of the handcuffs, I crack and circle my shoulders. I do a quick sweep of the room for hidden cameras or bugs. The room is so sparsely decorated, the search is easy. I find nothing.

  I stop and crack my shoulders again. "Why do I feel like I've just been fed my last meal?"

  Ten smiles sadly at my morbid attempt at humor.

  "Nice dress, by the way." I look pointedly at the sundress. "I've only seen you in a dress a few times. One of those was at Lieutenant Barton's funeral so that doesn't really count because I couldn't see more than your knees."

  She sighs with aggravation. "Yeah, well I do occasionally wear dresses and I can look pretty damn good in them. You just don't know that because you only think of me as your partner in jeans and sweatshirts."

  "Not true, Ten."

  She crosses her arms, seemingly feeling self-conscious after my totally unnecessary comment about the dress. I know damn well that Ten doesn't fall for stupid flattery. It's another thing I love about her. I don't even know why I said it except maybe to avoid the more serious stuff that needs to be discussed.

  Ten walks to the porthole. "You shouldn't have come, Maddox. Now we're both screwed. I was handling this on my own just fine." She spins back around to face me. Her pupils are dilated from the drug.

  "Were you? Because I'm looking at someone who is going to have to go through a hell of a lot of detox when she gets out of Freestone's clutches. Or maybe you don't want out. I mean planes, yachts and all the other perks he offers."

  Ten marches back toward me in her flouncy dress and nails me across the face with a stinging slap.

  There is no way I expected the conversation to head so quickly south, but I can't let go of the idea that she's been with him in his underground sex den for months.

  She rubs the sting out of her palm. "You couldn't stand that your partner was on something big and you weren't going to be a part of it."

  I stare wide eyed at her, speechless for a second. "Really? That's why you think I did all this? You don't fucking know me at all then."

  "I can't think of any other reason. All I know is now you've put us both in danger. Your pretty fiancée must be going crazy without you there to help pick china patterns."

  I scratch the beard that's sprouting on my chin as I try to figure out how to respond. "Yeah, well, that didn't really work out. Tiffany broke up with me. It finally dawned on her that she could do a lot better."

  "She's a fool. But yeah, she could probably do a lot better." She smiles weakly. "I'm sorry, Maddox. I'm sure you were broken up about it just like I was—" She stops and seals her lips in a tight grin. "Anyhow, what's going to happen next?"

  Maddox tilts a brow. "Shit, this isn't promising. I was just going to ask you that. Figured you had some insight into the man's psyche."

  Ten sits on the side of the bed. She is too skinny. The muscles in her arms and legs have all but vanished. She's a frail shadow of her former self, but there's still Tennyson spunk under the surface. It's in her eyes.

  She crosses her arms against the cool ocean air in the room. "He's the most complicated man in the world. Must be the genius thing. I think there's something major in his past that shaped who he is, and whatever it is, it's not good and wholesome. There are times when I despise him, and other times when I look forward to seeing him."

  "That's the drug," I say quickly, more to appease my own jealous feelings than to explain her affinity for the man.

  "No, I don't think so."

  I'm not sure how to interpret her statement and decide to leave it alone for now.

  "Why do you think he brought us both to his yacht?" I ask. "Seems strange."

  She nods. "I agree. Especially after the last time he brought me here."

  I sit down next to her. Her arm touches lightly against mine, but I resist throwing my arm around her shoulder. Everything seems tangled between us at the moment. I can no longer read her and predict her next words like I could for so long.

  "So you've been on the yacht before? I'm almost afraid to ask, and if it has anything to do with passion or desire, please do your old friend a favor and spare the details."

  "Old friend," she sighs. "How sexy that sounds."

  "See, there's that Tennyson sarcasm I miss. Just not the same having Silvana in the passenger seat."

  She turns to me. It seems we've both temporarily forgotten how close we are sitting. We stop to exchange a long gaze, a long and impossible to interpret gaze.

  "Silvana?" she asks after the moment passes. "They paired you with Silvana?"

  "Yeah, I know. Poor me."

  "No," she laughs. "Poor Silvana. Silvana's like a big, soft huggable pillow. He's the perfect partner when you're feeling down. You, on the other hand, are a complete asshole."

  "Thanks. Guess I have to agree. And turns out Silvana is an O.K. guy just as long as he doesn't eat burritos at lunch." I comb my hair back with my hands. It's tangled from lack of a hair brush. "Seems like you're avoiding talking about the last yacht trip. Maybe it will give us some insight into what this guy has planned for us."

  "It's a little embarrassing because I did something kind of stupid." She takes in a deep breath and seems to be thinking back to that day. "I haven't really thought about it again until you brought it up." The pink in her cheeks fades some.

  "Ten? What happened?"

  She rubs her arms once for heat and then lowers them to her lap. She stares down at her fingers, as they fiddle with the hem of the dress. "I ran. My head had cleared up because I had skipped my injection. Blake, the guy who was sort of my personal assistant was busy flirting with Jason—"

  "Jason? Huh, never would have guessed. Go ahead."

  "Anyhow, it was the first time I was above ground and on a boat, no less. Kane had some business with a realtor. He's buying an island or something," she adds quickly. "Anyhow, I talked Blake, Oscar and Jason into letting me go on shore for an excursion through the market. I was nervous as hell and feeling like shit because the drug was wearing off, but when the opportunity presented itself, I ran. And let me just say, this skinny, buzzed version of Angie Tennyson is not nearly as fast as the old one. Oscar and Jason had nearly caught up to me when I asked a guy standing next to a truck for directions to the police station. He offered to take me there. I climbed inside with him and his buddy just happy to be able to lose the big guys. I thought luck was finally with me. Only it wasn't. At all."

  "Fuck. They were creeps?"

  "The worst kind. They drove me out to some random, remote building. I tried to fight them off. Even hit one in the head real good with a bottle of booze. But so much of my strength had been zapped, I was basically helpless."

  A hard knot forms in my chest. "Ch
rist, Ten, did they—?"

  She shakes her head slowly and looks up at me. "The next thing I knew, the guy I'd clobbered was crumpled in a heap on the floor and the other guy was struggling to breathe." She stares back at her hands again and rubs the line around her wrist, a mark left behind by the leather cuffs. "Kane was strangling him. I begged him to let him live so he could have his day in court, but Kane told Oscar to get me out of the building. I passed out after that." Her bottom lip wavers as she continues. "I'm sure he killed him. The look in Kane's eyes—He wasn't going to let the guy live."

  "Well, there's one point in Freestone's box," I say wryly.

  She hops up with a moan of disgust. "No, the guy was scum, but he should have been arrested. Not murdered. And I'm telling you this humiliating story just to make a point. Kane is capable of murder. He's capable of killing someone with his bare hands. Which is why I wish you had never stuck your big head into any of this. I would have found a way out on my own."

  "Yeah, clearly the last story proves that."

  "Grrr and on top of it you're being an asshole." She comes at me with her fists. I grab hold of her wrists and easily stop the pummeling she's about to give me. My fingers wrap all the way around her thin wrists. One squeeze and I could break them. I lift one hand to my face and press my mouth against her palm.

  I lower my voice in case one of the giants or Kane is listening in at the door.

  "Ten, I'm just glad you're alive. Whatever happens to me, I see the way this guy looks at you. I don't think he'll do anything to hurt you. I can almost like him for it." I release her wrists and lower my voice. "Which brings me to my next plan. Turn against me. Tell him you don't want anything to do with me and that he should do whatever he needs to. Tell him you are going to stay with him." I lower my voice even more. "Clark is getting closer. It's pretty hard to hide your comings and goings if you're tooting around in a private plane. Airports keep tight logs."