Circle of Deception (30 page)

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Authors: Carla Swafford

BOOK: Circle of Deception
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“You won’t miss one or two.”

“You might.” His lascivious grin looked even more evil with the added pull of the scar and easily told what he was thinking.

She rolled her eyes and sliced through the rope, being careful not to damage his talented fingers. Handing off the knife to Rex, she stepped back.

As if he did it daily, he bent at the waist and caught the back of his leg with one hand while the other used the knife to cut the tied rope. His feet dropped but he caught the large hook with his free hand. His legs probably needed the circulation to return before he landed on his feet.

No way could she hold back the sigh. Right-side up, he was even more gorgeous. Muscles and tendons stretched and moved in ways that were nothing short of sensual.

Mouth dry, she turned away and swallowed. Seeing the clothes on the floor, she thought it best to cover up. No underwear. Go figure. But the black pants were soft and stretchy like the type worn to exercise in, and the plain gray T-shirt was a little small as it molded to her breasts and torso.

A thud next to her warned Rex had landed on his feet.

“Check his tag and see what size pants he wears.”

“No way. I’ve touched him enough. Anyway, his clothes won’t fit you.”

Rex shoved her out of the way. “I can’t go around naked.”

“You won’t hurt my feelings.” She knew she had a mischievous grin.

With a sideways glance at her, he brought a blush to her face. She lost the grin. He actually embarrassed her with a look so hot she trembled. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t gotten embarrassed last time he was naked and hanging from a hook. Of course, last time she’d had only faded memories. But now new vivid memories rose to the surface and heated her face. She bit the side of her mouth as she tried to regain control of her body.

He said, “Yeah. I can tell. Your nipples are hard. And if I stay naked any longer, I’ll be in you, pumping.”

Unable to resist any longer from the last time she looked—what, two minutes ago?—she realized he’d become . . . firmer. She quickly looked away. When had she become a wimp about looking at what interested her? She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Damn, quit.” Abby shook her head.

He chuckled and stripped the poor guard of his black pants and shirt and then tossed the boots to the side. They were too small.

While Rex dressed, she picked up the boots and pulled out the laces, using the string to tie the man’s hands and ankles—she knew better than to underestimate him. Taking the rope from the floor and one of his socks, she gagged him and slipped his watch off before checking outside the door.

The hallway, more like a small antechamber, had a table and chairs arranged to the side with the guard’s cell phone vibrating on top.

“Are you about dressed? His cell phone is ringing.” She looked down at the guard. The man was still out cold.

“He could be a little taller.” Rex’s disgust brought her head around. “And wider.”

Snug around his hips, the black jeans teased the top of his ankles. She covered her mouth and bit her bottom lip to stop the giggles from escaping. He wouldn’t appreciate the humor. But the memory of watching clips of Michael Jackson in the eighties with his white socks showing below high-water pants came to mind. Only MJ never filled out a pair of jeans like Rex. When he turned around, she barely caught the sigh released by the sight. The man was seriously taut in the cheek department.

“You ready?” Rex tore the guard’s white T-shirt and pressed a swatch to the wound on his hip and then slipped into the shirt. The material pulled across his chest and shoulders, but the shirt fit a little better than the pants.

“Huh, yeah. From what I can tell, there are four doors. Two are open and show rooms like this one. So that leaves us to decide between the one straight on and one to the left.”

“Go straight and I’ll check the left one.” Rex motioned to the door with the guard’s Glock.

They padded over to the doors. The guard hadn’t brought shoes, and the boots that were too little for Rex were too big for her, especially without laces.

As soon as she reached her door, Rex entered his. She eased it open and peeked inside. A man hung limply from chains bolted to a wall, his clothes shredded and bloody. His hair, dark with what appeared to be sweat and blood, fell over his eyes.

“Edward?”

 

Chapter Thirty

A
BBY RUSHED OVER
and lifted the man’s head. Ty Roman. She tamped down the disappointment that he wasn’t her brother.

“Ty.” His eyes were closed and his mouth open, and blood dribbled from the corner of his lips. Time wasn’t on their side, and she needed a way to break him out of the chains, quick.

She checked the locks and then swept the place with her gaze, hoping something would pop out that she could use. Nothing. “We’ll come back for you. I don’t have anything that’ll unlock the chains. Sorry.”

He groaned as he lifted his head and one brown eye stared at her. The other, swollen shut, matched the purple and black side of his face.

“Don’t worry about me, darlin’. You just watch yourself. Nothing is what it appears to be.” He grimaced and closed his eye, going limp.

“Abby?” Rex stood at the door. “We don’t have time to help him.”

“I know.” She glanced at the man one last time before moving away. The vague warning Ty gave could mean so many things. Rex grabbed her hand and they darted through the other door Rex had checked out. Suddenly they were in a warehouse with stacks of boxes that stood above their heads to nearly the ceiling. Lights overhead lit their way every so many feet. As they ran, she realized how much space the warehouse covered.

A chuckle broke the silence along with the scrape of a boot moving across the cement floor.

Abby and Rex squeezed between a few crates. The man walked by with head down, looking at a cell phone as his thumbs traveled over the virtual toggle. Strapped across his chest was an M4, useless with his hands occupied.

Keeping it simple, Abby stuck her leg out, tripping the man as Rex slammed a fist into his face. Rex clasped the man’s arms, stopping him from hitting the floor, while she swooped up the phone before the clatter alerted others.

They slipped behind another stack after they tied the guard and relieved him of the M4 and cell phone. For a few seconds they stood still, waiting to see if the shit hit the fan. How much longer before someone found the guard or missed the other one?

Listening for fast-approaching footsteps, she turned her back to Rex. Then she heard the sound of a zipper being raised. Or lowered. Had he lost his mind?

She looked over her shoulder as Rex pulled off the pants from the taller guard. In seconds, he was tucking in his cock and carefully zipping up. A much better fit. He lined up a foot next to one of the man’s boots, and in no time, his feet were covered with socks and leather as he yanked the ties into a double knot.

“Let’s go.” He led the way with the machine gun clasped in his hand and threw Abby the Glock he’d taken from the first guard.

The lit exit sign helped to point their way out, and Abby took a deep breath of fresh air as they ducked behind a huge white delivery truck. Security lights brightened the parking lot, glistening on the wet asphalt and the chain-link fence surrounding it.

“From what I could tell earlier, they have a guard walking the perimeter. We need to time him and see how long we’ll have to climb that fence.” Rex pointed ahead.

She looked at the razor wire and back at Rex.

“All we need to do is cut the hog rings.” He lifted his brows as he looked into her face.

“If you say so.”

“I got these when you were still in there.” He nodded toward the warehouse as he lifted a dangerous-looking pair of clippers with long handles. “Bolt cutters. They were sitting on a crate outside the door. Lucky, huh? It’ll cut the rings that hold the wire. A few snips and the fence will fall open like a Slinky.”

“Whatever.” She wiggled her toes. “You didn’t see any shoes while you were looking for bolt cutters, did you?”

“No. You know, I’ve decided I hate fucking warehouses,” Rex said under his breath as he watched for the guard.

“You do have a problem waking up naked.”

“Don’t go there again.”

She grinned up at him as he stood behind her, looking down with that sexy sneer-for-a-smile look.

“You never told me the story about that scar.” She wasn’t sure why she asked, but maybe with all they’d been through recently, he would answer this time.

“It’s important for you to know?” His fingers lightly touched her cheek as his thumb caressed her lips.

When she remained quiet, his smile eased.

“Okay. Jack and I were arguing over the last bag of chips and he hit me with a beer bottle.”

“Beer bottle?” Not sure if she was astounded by the simple yet savage aspect of the story or that brothers could be so mean to each other, she traced the scar. He flinched but didn’t move away as he always had before. “How old were you?”

“Thirteen.” He looked away.

“Where did your brother get a beer bottle?” Sure they needed to stay alert and find a way out of the fence, but the chance to learn more was too tempting.

“Dad.” His gaze flicked down to her face.

“What do you mean by ‘Dad’?” From the way he grimaced, she knew she didn’t want to hear. She pressed the palm of her hand to his chest, over his rapidly beating heart. “Never mind.”

“No. You need to understand what’s between me and my brother. Dad wanted us to fight. He constantly encouraged our fighting. That day he’d bought us a case of beer and told us to party. Jack was already upset about his football team losing. I smarted off about the chips, and in a flash we were rolling on the living room floor beating the shit out of each other. I got Jack pinned. Dad didn’t like it. He tossed me off. I don’t remember much after that, but Jack was pissed and he threw one of the bottles at me. The way it hit my face, it laid it open. I remember Mom screaming and Dad slapping her to shut her the fuck up. He refused to take me to the hospital. Child Services had already warned him if I showed up in the emergency room again that they would take me away. I never understood why he didn’t let them. Maybe it was pride. To have someone take one of his sons away from him would’ve been hard.”

Abby caught that he said “me” and not “us.” Even as an adult, his certainty of being the one taken away, and not his brother, lingered. She understood so much of what he wasn’t saying. An overgrown child with a soft heart had to learn to be tough or otherwise be thought of as less than a man, and in turn, he had a hard time accepting a brother’s apology for sleeping with the woman he loved. And then to find out that woman had hidden the news of losing his child . . . it would top the long list of life giving him the finger.

“Rex, I—”

“Wait, someone’s coming this way,” he whispered, and lifted his chin in the direction of the gate.

Bent over and moving at a fast clip, two dark shapes worked their way toward where they hid behind the truck. Had the cavalry come to the rescue? No need for guards to move like that. Better safe than dead, Abby aimed the “borrowed” gun.

“Abby, dammit! Don’t shoot!” Jack held up his hands while keeping low. Behind him was Liam.

“Where’s Ryker?” Rex asked, squinting in the darkness beyond the fence.

“He’s not coming.” Jack eyed her. “I see you’re still in one piece. Rex taking care of you?”

His comment surprised her. He’d always treated female operatives equally, expecting them to shake off the pain of wounds or broken bones and take care of themselves.

“I’m fine. Brody sure as hell didn’t have anything to do with me being in one piece. The asshole has not only my brother but Ty too.”

“Dammit, that man has the worst luck.” Jack glanced back a couple times at Liam and Rex.

She wasn’t sure if he meant her brother or Ty. Both appeared to be unlucky.

“What’s going on? Why are you here without backup? And why isn’t Ryker coming?” Rex crossed his arms. Fury deepened his voice.

Jack looked away, not meeting her eyes. “He said that he couldn’t afford to lose any more operatives. Losing two more was nothing compared to the ten that it would take to get you out.”

“That’s a bald-faced lie. Ryker wouldn’t do that,” she snarled.

“Have you ever known me to lie to you?” One pierced eyebrow lifted.

She wanted to argue, but to what purpose? He was right.

“What about Collin and Olivia? What did they say?” she asked.

“We have no idea where they’re at. Besides, what would it matter? Collin gave the OS to Ryker—he’d never interfere.”

The sadness in Jack’s eyes gave her pause. What else had he not told them?

R
EX WATCHED HIS
brother. He looked different. Still the same tattooed, pierced psycho as before, but he appeared subdued, nowhere as animated.

“What are you doing here?” Rex asked.

“I have nothing to lose,” was all he said as he walked toward the warehouse.

“Where’re you going?”

“Taking care of business.” Never looking back, Jack ducked inside the warehouse.

“What is going on, Liam?” He felt every drop of frustration boiling inside, wanting to blow. Abby obviously sensed it as she touched his arm, drawing his attention, and then she shook her head.

“Jack has it in his mind that he needs to save you and Rex,” Liam said to Abby.

“We don’t need his fucking help.” When was the last time Jack ever thought of anyone but himself? His brother didn’t care if he lived or died. Rex doubted he’d changed. There had to be something in it for Jack. “Why did you come with him?” Rex stared hard at the Irishman and former Circle security officer. The latter was enough of a reason to distrust him, but being around his brother added to his skepticism.

Liam leaned against the truck, unclipped the magazine in his gun, and shoved it back in. Then he looked up at Rex. “They can’t suspend me, seeing as I’m already under suspension and I have no idea how much longer, maybe a week or ten years. And it’s my nature to rebel. I’ve survived worse than Room 999, so they might as well eliminate me.” He shrugged. “Of course, they know I be wanting death for some time now. And we be knowing they don’t like giving us what we want.”

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