Captive, Mine (25 page)

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Authors: Natasha Knight,Trent Evans

Tags: #Contempory BDSM Erotic Romance, #Romantic Suspense

BOOK: Captive, Mine
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“Rally point, Lily. Go!”

Lake shot his gun, three quick, terrifyingly loud pops, and I ran. I ran like I’d never run in my life. Gunfire lit up the night behind me like fireworks, but I only had to look back once to know not to look back again.

When he’d shown me the rally point, it had been full day. Now, in the dark, I was completely disoriented and freaked out with the war going on around me. He was one man against how many? Too many shots firing for me to know. I heard a man’s voice calling to find me, and I turned to look back, seeing the light of two flashlights coming in my direction. Shit! I had to find the rally point! I had to get the shotgun, or I was finished. I turned and tripped over a rock, landing hard but scrambling to my feet quickly. My knee hurt, but this was life or death, and I had to keep going.

“She’s here!”

Fuck!

I heard the truck roar to life then. Lake had made it to the truck! I had to get close enough to the clearing that he could pick me up, but how, with these men chasing me? I tripped again, screaming as bullets flew over my head, just missing me.

“We need the girl alive!” someone called out.

Lake turned the headlights of the truck on the men who were chasing me, grabbing their attention. They aimed their guns but Lake was faster, taking one man down while another got a shot that ricocheted off the hood of the truck.

“Lily, in!”

I ran toward the truck, my heart racing, my breath coming too short. Gunfire again as I yanked the back door open and jumped in. I’d barely closed it before Lake began to drive, getting one more bullet off, hitting the man who’d been so close to me. I watched his body jerk and then drop.

“Down, Lily. Christ, do you ever fucking listen?”

I’d forgotten. I dropped to the floor of the backseat as the truck bounced this way and that, driving over fallen logs and debris. I heard men cursing and more bullets and then Lake laughing. He was
laughing
.

“Lake?” I was frantic, my entire body shaking.

“Rally point, Lily. I thought you said you knew where it was.”

“Is it over?”

“Stay down there, in case there’s more men, but I shot their tires out so it should give us enough of a head start to disappear.”

“Oh God. Okay. Okay, that’s good.”

“You hurt?”

“No. You?”

“Just nicked my shoulder. Fuckers can’t even aim properly.”

I peeked up over the seat to see the bloodstain on his shirt. “Lake, you’re bleeding!”

“Stay down! Do as you’re fucking told for once in your life, will you? Fuck!”

I dropped back down to the floor. “Does it hurt?”

“Flesh wound. It’s fine. Rally point, what happened? You went in the completely wrong direction!”

“I was disoriented and had people shooting at me! You try to find a rally point in the middle of the woods in the night with people shooting at you!”

“Women have a shitty sense of direction, in general. I don’t know why I thought you’d make it there.”

“I don’t have a shitty sense of direction. We’re in the middle of the fucking woods, asshole!”

“All right, princess, calm down,” he said, laughing.

“I told you, I am
not
a princess!”

After a few twists and turns, the ground became less bumpy, making me think we were on a paved road now.

“Can I come up?”

“Yes.”

“Shouldn’t you put the lights on?”

“Only if we want them to find us. There might be more out here.” He looked over at me, scanning my body as I strapped my seatbelt, remembering that first day. “You okay?”

I nodded. “I think so.”

“Good news is, we’re ahead of schedule.”

I looked at the clock. It was twenty minutes past 3:00 a.m. I smiled back at him, realizing he was trying to set me at ease.

“Thanks.”

He nodded, his attention back to the road. “Let’s hope for an uneventful drive.”

* * *

 

W
e drove for almost two full days to get back into the city, stopping at rest stops along the way to freshen up but not taking a chance on an overnight stay at a hotel and surviving on coffee. He told me to sleep more than once, but I couldn’t. I needed to stay awake with him, I felt like we were in this together now.

Lake circled the bank too many times to count before deciding it was safe enough and that we hadn’t been followed. He was acting weird, quiet, but I decided it was because we were both tired.

“You ready?” he asked when he finally settled on a parking spot.

I nodded. “We can leave the car here,” I said. “Leave everything behind and get a flight out to wherever.”

He smiled and squeezed my hand, walking me to the bank. “We’ll see. Let’s get your passport and the money, first.”

I nodded, but something was wrong. Off. I felt it. “Lake?” I asked, stopping in the middle of the busy street. It was late afternoon and sunny, so maybe not the smartest thing to do.

“Keep walking, Lily.”

I walked, and to any passerby, we probably looked like a regular couple out on a regular day. But I could feel the hard metal of the gun Lake carried beneath his jacket. We were anything but normal.

At the bank, he opened the door, and I walked in ahead of him. Taking out my ID and the key to the box, I approached a woman who took the identification and told me to wait. Lake stood beside me, seeming anxious.

“I’ll wait here for you. We don’t want any surprises.” His eyes were red rimmed.

“What’s going on?” I asked when he wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“Nothing.”

“Are you angry? Did I do something?”

“Ma’am?” the woman called to me.

“Just a minute,” I snapped, not meaning to. “Lake?” I hesitated. “You’re going to be here when I come out, right?” My heart beat fast, and I opened my eyes wide to prevent the collecting tears from spilling.

His answer was written on his face, in his eyes. He took my face in his hands, and a tear rolled down my cheek.

“Shh. Don’t cry, Lily,” he said, wiping that tear and the one that followed away with his thumb. “You’ll have a better chance without me now. You get yourself on a flight out of the country and take a vacation. God knows you’ve earned it. Keep a low profile until this is over.”

“No,” I managed, shaking my head, embarrassing myself as I came apart. “Please, Lake, you can’t leave me to do this alone. I can’t…”

“You can and you will. You have to,” he said.

“No. Not anymore, not after…what happened.”

He looked over my head, his fingers pressing on my face as he battled something inside himself. I watched the demons shadow his eyes, saw his lips tighten with resolve, and when he brought his mouth to my forehead and held there for the longest kiss, I knew this was goodbye.

“Ma’am, we’re ready for you.”

Lake looked at me, his eyes redder too. He reached down to hug me one more time, the scruff on his face scratching my cheek as his lips touched my ear. “Goodbye, Lily. Be safe.”

I didn’t say a word. Instead, when he pulled back, I stood in the middle of the bank, wiping my face with the backs of my hands, sniffling loudly while I watched him go. He didn’t look back, not once, and I knew why. I knew it had taken all he had to walk out that door.

I turned to the woman, who politely ignored the state I was in, and, once I was alone, I broke down and wept fully at this sudden and unexpected loss of him, loss of the man who’d kidnapped me to save my life, who’d punished me and loved me mercilessly. And I knew he did love me. He had to. It was there in his eyes, and I’d never forget that look for as long as I lived. I’d never forget Lake Freeman.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

F
or some reason, he’d expected waves. The teal-blue water of the Gulf of California was as calm and warm as bathwater.

Lake brought the cold bottle to his lips, the bitter, cool liquid of his beer washing over his tongue. The resort didn’t really live up to the title, being more a huddle of modest homes, condos, and a couple restaurants crowded around the edge of a small cove. He didn’t care that he was being “that guy,” the
gabacho
lying on the blindingly bright white beach, beer in hand, hiding from the ghosts of his homeland.

Sure Mexico was a risk, but it would be the last thing Randall would expect — Lake hiding in the belly of the beast. The resort was almost exclusively North American expats, with a smattering of Europeans. The rest were rich tourists. That it was the largest concentration of Americans in the entire country made hiding there easier than he’d ever have believed.

There was one problem though, a big one.

Lily.

She’d opened a door to a part of him he thought had died with his wife. But it hadn’t.

Lily had likely spilled everything to the feds. With luck, she’d forgotten him, buried it down deep, purged the memory of what they’d done, what they’d
been
.

But he’d never be able to forget her.

Why had he done it? He’d saved her… and taken from her in every way a man could take from a woman. From his captive. What did it mean that she’d responded to him?

It means Stockholm syndrome, you prick.

She’d simply been trying to survive.

Despite the shimmering heat of the afternoon, Lake shivered.

You became what you’d saved her from. So, did you really save her, Lake?

“Cerveza, señor?”

The waiter was so young, teens maybe. Fresh faced. Clean. Unsullied by corrupting desire, unburdened by the consequences of a life of bad and worse decisions.

“No, thanks,” Lake said, pressing a bill into the boy’s hand.

He grinned at Lake and stepped away, the white linen of his apron flapping about his legs.

There was a place in the Queen Charlottes he’d looked at last year, a place Lake thought might be perfect. He liked the rain, and it didn’t get any rainier than off the coast of British Columbia.

Even though Randall had somehow sniffed out the house in Vancouver, this would still be far enough away it was unlikely to raise any attention. Besides, for the moment, anyway, Randall had a lot more on his plate. Lake hadn’t killed all the men who’d found the cabin — not by a long shot — so it was a certainty now that Randall knew he and Lily had slipped away.

Lake picked up the paper — the resort somehow, miraculously, had access to several US newspapers — the story just below the fold something he was particularly interested in.

Terrence Randall Facing Trial on Numerous Federal Charges

“Burn, you sonofabitch.”

Maybe when he finally saw the murderer hauled away in cuffs, it would finally feel over, even though he knew it wouldn’t be.

Maybe the rain, and quiet, and solitude of the Queen Charlottes would help wash it all away. Someday the ache would ease, assuming he lived that long. At least seeing Randall in the clink would let Lake let her go. Finally.

A gust of wind galloped in off the water with an angry snapping sound as it caught the faded fabric of the umbrella shading Lake’s table.

He raised the bottle, tipping it toward the water. “I hear ya’, honey.”

With Randall gone, the pain of Sara’s passing would finally fade, if not at rest, at least avenged. It would have to be enough.

Lake waited until almost sunset to walk back to his room, his thoughts returning to Lily as he opened his door. He sat at the sliding glass doors as day slowly gave way to night, as memories of the past gave way to regrets about the present, dread of the future.

Without Lily there with him, perhaps his penance for what he’d done, for the choices he’d made. Life had a way of settling accounts. The knowledge that she surely must hate him by now did make it easier, or at least took away that illusion of choice, or options. Sometimes what we want lies behind a door our actions have locked tight.

The question was, what did she really want? And what was Lake prepared to do to give it to her?

It was idiocy, but how many nights had Lake laid awake in the sweltering dark, the AC off, the fan blowing the hot, weighted air over his skin? How many nights had he wished it were Lily there with him, in his arms, the choices, the decisions, the consequences no longer mattering?

All that mattered was that she’d be there with him. Confronting a future neither had chosen, a future neither wanted to face alone.

Lake was hiding from it, from the unavoidable, awful, terrifying truth of it.

And it wasn’t just from the long reach of Terrence Randall.

You have to tell her, Lake.

Lake turned away from the muted cries of the seabirds, the inebriated, chattering expats stumbling along the beach outside.

As fatigue weighed heavily upon him, deep in the sweltering night, sleep finally found him, the vision of Lily’s beautiful, luminous eyes the last thing he saw before the dark swallowed him up.

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