Betrayals of the Heart (14 page)

He shuddered at the next gust of wind as it slipped beneath the collar of his shirt, replacing the eerie thoughts with chills the size of marbles. That’s when the faint sound of a motor registered off in the distance. Too loud to be a car, but definitely heading his way.

A motorcycle.

“Michael?” Ryan pointed the binoculars toward the hill just beyond the warehouse. Sure enough. The dust billowing up like a cloud of smoke from the dirt road told him his worst fears were on the verge of coming true.

“Crazy kid,” he mumbled under his breath, pulling his cell phone back out of its holster and dialing Agent Harrington.

“Hello. This is Harrington.”

“I need to speak to Makayla. Quick.” Beads of sweat trailed down his cheek to his jaw. He had to know if Michael told her what he planned to do.

“Sure. Let me get her.”

Silence penetrated the line like a heavy fog as he watched the motorcycle slow and stop at the top of the hill, just shy of the paved road.

“Ryan, what’s wrong?” He could hear the panic in her sweet voice and tried to keep his tone steady.

“I’ve found Michael.”

“Please don’t tell me he’s…”

“Makayla, he’s fine for the moment. But I can’t say he’ll stay that way. What did he tell you before he sped off?”

“He’s not himself, Ryan. He…he plans to kill his father.”

Ryan cursed heavily under his breath. “How? Does he have a gun?”

The stillness on the other end of the phone sparked the tiny hairs on the back of his neck and gave him his answer. “Makayla, where’d he get a gun? And how did he find out where Steven’s holding up?”

More silence. He cleared his throat and asked again, “Where?”

“I took the gun from your drawer. I wanted to be prepared if things went wrong when I met Steven face to face. When I put it into the saddlebag of the motorcycle, I had no idea Michael would take off on the bike. He must have overheard Agent Harrington talking about the warehouse earlier, because that’s when he took off and gave them the slip.”

“Shit.” Ryan ran his hand through his hair now moist with perspiration. If Michael had found the gun and decided to pull it on Steven, things would escalate real quickly.

“Makayla, I’m going to try and intercept Michael before he makes this terrible mistake.”

“Ryan, wait!”

“I love you, Makayla.”

He could hear her frantic pleas of despair as he ended the call and his insides felt like shards of glass, twisting and scraping against his flesh. He needed a miracle.

Contacting the surveillance team, he explained how he planned to head off trouble and had them stand on full alert ready to protect his back if needed. Then he moved quickly to get into position.

He heard Michael revive the engine and knew only a matter of seconds would pass before the noise had Steven’s entire entourage standing outside ready to open fire.

Picking up his pace, he darted between the vacant buildings, making his way to the old gas station where he planned to cut Michael off. Every step felt like heavy bricks were tied to his shoes and he prayed he wouldn’t be spotted. Steven’s men had walked inside the warehouse minutes before he’d noticed Michael’s approach. But that didn’t mean they weren’t watching.

Steven probably sat at the window himself. Gun primed to shoot. This game he played had so many different rules. A scary-as- hell set of rules known only to its creator.

***

Makayla’s chest felt like a heavy rock, reinforced with concrete, rested against her ribs. Each heartbeat felt as if the force would cause permanent damage. Ryan found Michael. Thank, God. But what about Nicholas? And what did he mean Michael was fine for the moment? Why did he always have to talk in circles?

Growing up, Michael had always been headstrong, did most things without thinking through the consequences first. But this time it could cost him a lot more than his spot on the football team. This time it would cost him his life.

Agent Harrington walked into the kitchen, surveying her mood. “You all right, Mrs. Carter?”

She nodded unable to steady her voice. “Ryan’s found Michael.”

She fought back the despair working its way up her throat. Both her sons were in danger and she felt helpless, destined to sit back and pray the outcome turned out better than the picture torturing her imagination.

“Makayla, try not to panic. Steven hasn’t called back with his demands. I know this sounds bad, but trust me, it’s a good thing.”

She blinked in disbelief. How could not hearing from the maniac be a good thing? She wanted to hear from him. Wanted him to tell her what she needed to do to rescue her baby. Nicholas had to be frightened out of his mind by now.

Harrington moved closer. “The fact Steven hasn’t made further contact proves Ryan’s suspicions. Something’s put a kink in Steven’s plan.”

“What are you talking about?” She stood quickly, unable to control her arms as they waved in the air. “Those are my sons out there. Not yours. So don’t go expecting me to just turn off every emotion I have and trust a bunch of men who have no ties to our family, no agenda except to catch their bad guy.”

“Our first priority is to get Nicholas back, Mrs. Carter.” Agent Harrington held his ground. He was waiting for her to break down, start crying. But she refused to give him the satisfaction. She’d been weak for too long. Let her past influence how she dealt with and looked at her future. But no more.

“Then what suspicions are you talking about, Agent Harrington? I’m sick and tired of feeling like you are all hiding something from me. I’m a big girl. I’ve been through my own private hell. I assure you, I can handle whatever it is.”

Her sudden transformation startled him. His face softened to one of surprise and she’d almost swear a hint of admiration. “The phone call earlier. Ryan said Steven cut it short. He heard voices in the background. Could tell Steven wasn’t happy and ended the call before he’d intended to.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Okay. So what does that tell you, Agent Harrington?”

Agent Harrington raised a brow at her sarcastic tone. She was probably being a bit out of line, but at this point, she didn’t care. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, Steven isn’t one to back away from a challenge, now is he, Ms. Prichard. And he did just that. He had Ryan right where he wanted. But didn’t proceed.” He paused, his eyes drilling into her. “So now, you tell me. What does that mean?”

She swallowed hard at the mention of her old name. Was it a slip of the tongue? Why else would he call her that except to put her in her place? Let her know he wasn’t fully sure he could trust her. An uneasy feeling raced down her spine. “I don’t know.”

His hands eased to his hips. “Something’s gone wrong, hasn’t it? You of all people should know that. Steven’s not one to stick around and drag these things out. Too risky.”

The minute the words registered, fear spread like a wildfire. What if Nicholas had made Steven mad? What if he’d done something terrible and accidentally killed him before he’d meant to? The vivid, horrid thoughts swirled in her brain, wanting to magnify the panic. She shoved them back. Locked them tightly away. Nicholas was fine. He had to be.

Agent Harrington nodded his acknowledgement of her understanding and then left the room without another word. Makayla stood stunned, hands gripping the top of the table like a vise. There was no way he could think she had something to do with Nicholas’ disappearance. That she was somehow working with Steven on this. What would she possibly have to gain? He was her son, for Heaven’s sake.

Her head throbbed with that annoying ping that usually signaled a powerful headache just over the horizon. She needed a couple of Advil and somewhere quiet to think. They were missing something, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

Agent Harrington was right. When Steven’s plans fell apart, he didn’t stick around to watch them crumble. No freaking way. The coward took off and ran like a dog with his tail between his legs, leaving his men to clean up the mess.

So what was different this time? If something had gone wrong, why was Steven still in town? And if not, why hadn’t he called back with instructions about where to meet and make the trade? Did he think he was still in control, that his sick resolution still lingered close?

Then a thought hit her. She released her grip on the table and let her back rest against the wall. Nicholas was a master at hide-and-seek.

Could the setback be that Steven lost Nicholas?

She closed her eyes, placing her fingers on her temples to relieve the pressure and shook her head. If it was true and Nicholas had managed to escape, she knew exactly where to find him.

Steven Prichard paced back and forth across the dirty warehouse floor, anger burning the back of his throat and ears. He couldn’t believe his rotten luck. The boy couldn’t have gone far
. F—ing five. He was only five!

“Did you check the entire area?”

“Yes, sir. We turned over every trashcan, searched every nook hole. We even backtracked to his house on foot. But there ain’t no sign of’em. Lots of Feds, but not the boy.”

“You’re telling me a five-year-old boy outsmarted you?” Steven’s tone dangled on the verge of outrage.

“Sir. It’s the girl who lost the boy. She took him to the restroom against my wishes. They was out of the car before I turned around.”

Steven’s eye sockets throbbed from the pressure. “And she’s been taking care of, hasn’t she? Paid the price for her mistake. But what about you, Ricky?”

He heard the man gulp as he swallowed. “I’ll find him! I’ll find him, boss.” With the words spilling from his lips so fast they ran together in an inaudible gibberish, the large blubbering idiot backed his way out the door.

“You do that!” Steven kicked the door closed with his foot and spun around to eye the others left in the room with him.

What the hell was going on? This never happened. Not to him. He always won. Something in the universe tilted the day Makayla deserted him. His life turned upside down, had been anything but the victorious adventure he deserved. Now his days were filled with disruption and disorder.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his mind off of her. Even his mother’s threats to disown him hadn’t been enough to change his mind about bringing her into the family. Now he was forced to come to grips with the fact that in his own strange way, he really did love the horrid tramp. If it hadn’t been for the boy, well, things would have been different.

Everything had been perfect, run smoother before Michael was born. He couldn’t stand the fact she had to spend so much damn time with the boy. That’s not what he signed on for. She was supposed to be there for him. No matter what. No matter where. No matter when.

But the boy.

Oh, the boy changed all that in a heartbeat. He’d seen it the first day in the hospital. The look in her big brown eyes. All that love lingering in those beautiful depths and none of it directed where it should have been—at him.

Beads of sweat dared to edge down his forehead. He clenched his fists. Gritted his teeth and demanded the thoughts retreat. She made her decision the day she left. That choice chose her fate. Not him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a swift movement, so quick he questioned himself. He leaned in closer and peered through one of the dirt streaked windows facing the parking lot.

“What the hell?” His sixth sense skipped and bounced inside his body like a stray bullet.

So, this is what she’d reduced him to. A paranoid psychopath. He couldn’t think straight. He’d lost his edge. Made careless mistakes. Like the girl. Every bone in his body ached at his poor judgment over that one. Now what? The faint sound of a motorcycle filtered through the walls.

“Tony, get your ass out there and see what’s going on!” His teeth throbbed in his gums as he locked his jaw tight.

Tony stood from the card game he and the other three had been engrossed in, throwing his straight flush to the table. “Looks like I got lucky.”

Tony clearly missed his boss’s agitation. Otherwise, the jolly response would never have left his lips.

Steven turned the gun on him and before Tony could mutter a word of regret, the blast echoed off the walls. The man fell forward to his knees, his gaze locked on Steven in confusion.

“Anyone else want to get lucky?” Steven leveled the gun on them.

The three men looked at each other horrified. “No. No, boss.”

“Check out the area. Report back in five minutes or you’ll join Tony in hell.” Steven felt a huge tidal wave of feral emotion rising within him. If he didn’t come to grips with it soon, he’d have no one left to watch his back. Killing his men wasn’t part of the plan.

Damn that woman!
She’d woven some kind of spell over him.

As his men filed out the heavy warehouse door, Steven inched over to the window again, his gun ready, his back against the wall in case there was a sniper waiting for the perfect shot. He scanned the vacant gas station across the street. Whatever he’d seen was long gone now. Probably a stray cat or dog, but the hairs on the back of his neck prickled with trepidation.