Last Chance (34 page)

door. She couldn't hear what was being said or who it was. They sounded as

if they were standing in front of the door.

She waited for several more breath-holding seconds. The talking

continued. Cursing silently, McKenna reached up and pulled the laptop

down on the floor with her. If they were going to stand there and block her

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only exit, she might as well take advantage of what time she had left.

Each file she clicked on was no help. She found nothing more than

entries showing the amazing amounts of money he had made and spent. She

went back to the file of names showing women being sold, hoping she had

somehow missed Jamie's name. No, there was no mention of her.

Another sound. The men were moving away. Sighing because she'd

gotten nothing helpful, McKenna stood and replaced the laptop back on the

desk. Her next option was to explore the grounds. The estate was large

enough for small guesthouses, perhaps a place he had hidden her. She

couldn't give up. Her last option was to confront Damon and force him to

talk. Which meant she would have to get him alone, away from the

mountainous men who protected him.

Her feet soundless on the carpeted floor, she went to the door and

listened. Heard nothing. Taking a breath, McKenna opened the door. And

there stood Damon, apparently waiting for her. His eyes gleamed with evil;

the expression on his face was that of a predator on the verge of taking down

its prey.

The pretense was over.

The mother of all headaches pounded at Lucas's skull. Willing his

body to absorb and then deny the agony, he took several deep, even breaths.

Deciding the slight lessening of pain was the best he was going to get, he

pushed himself up to look around. Several thoughts hit him at once. He

wasn't restrained, meaning they thought he wasn't a threat. The room was

dark, but he had good night vision, so he could see that he was in a bedroom.

Not much of a bedroom, since all it had was one bed and nothing else. The

room was stripped clean. Not a weapon to be found anywhere. Not that that

was a problem; he'd come prepared.

The men who'd nabbed him had checked his pockets and nothing else.

They had most definitely been hired for their brawn, for which Lucas was

immensely grateful.

Taking his belt from his pants, he stripped the leather away from the

buckle and pulled out a five-inch Peacemaker knife. Tearing further into the

leather, he slid out thirty inches of piano wire. Removing his left boot, he

slid his Kel-Tec.380 from the small holster that held it in place. Pulling off

the other boot, he took out the extra cartridge of bullets.

The dark navy shirt hanging loose covered the gun he slid into one

pocket, and the knife was hidden in the other, along with the cartridge. He

slipped the piano wire into his waistband, within easy reach.

Feeling reasonably ready to face Damon and his men, Lucas stood and

perused the room for an escape. They might be coming for him soon, but

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he'd just as soon get out on his own if he could.

Ears and eyes alert, Lucas walked the perimeter of the room and

finally allowed himself to think of why McKenna was here. Two options

came to mind. One, Damon had kidnapped her again. Or two, she had finally

decided to confront him and for some reason decided to take a swim first.

He was going with the first theory. Damon had kidnapped her again

and she hadn't been able to escape. The thought of how and when that had

happened pounded in his skull. What had the bastard done to her while she

was here?

McKenna's being here upped the danger quotient a hell of a lot more

than he would have liked. Though he knew she could handle herself about as

well as anyone, he didn't want her endangered if he could prevent it. Killing

Damon needed to be done as quickly and efficiently as possible. Then he'd

deal with the explanation she was sure to demand of just how and why he

was here.

Her mind racing, McKenna faced Damon, more than aware she was in

deep shit. Yesterday he'd let her get away with being in the office with

almost no questions. At this time of night she had no answers, lame or

otherwise.

"Have you been a bad girl, McKenna?"

His taunt surprised her. Years ago he would have just knocked the hell

out of her and asked questions later. Now he almost looked amused. Maybe

it was time for Damon to take her seriously...to show him just how bad she

could be. Arching a brow arrogantly, she said, "I was looking for

information."

"Information on what?"

"On where Jamie Kendrick is."

"I returned her, McKenna. I know you're lacking in intelligence,

darling, but don't tell me you've forgotten."

"You returned a female. She wasn't Jamie."

He shrugged. "So? One's as good as another."

And for him that was so true. This man had no conscience, morals, or

ethics. Setting up an exchange for Jamie had not only been pointless, it had

been stupid. Damon Hughes did what was expedient and convenient for him.

Expecting him to keep his word, act with any kind of honesty, had been

incredibly naive of them.

"Tell me where she is."

"McKenna, I like neither your tone nor the fact that you're asking

questions of me."

"I don't think you get the picture, Damon. I'm not asking, I'm

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demanding. And guess what? I don't give a flying fuck what you like or

don't like."

A fist flew toward her face; McKenna caught it with her hand and

gave it a quick, hard twist. Damon grunted. Using all of his weight, he

pushed her hard. McKenna landed on her butt, sprang back to her feet, and

slammed her fist into his jaw.

Holding his hand against his face, he snarled, "You little bitch, you've

been holding back on me."

She snorted her disgust. "Stupid fool, you have no idea just how

much. Now, either tell me where Jamie is or I'll just beat it out of you. Your

choice."

Though his face went harder at her insult, he said mildly, "Did you not

find the information you were looking for on my computer?"

"I found plenty of information about your drug and arms smuggling,

as well as gambling and prostitution."

Damon grimaced. "My downfall, I fear, is that I keep excellent

records. And I hate paper waste. The clutter appalls me, not to mention the

damage to the environment."

"Yeah, you're a real humanitarian."

"Sarcasm is such an unattractive trait in you."

"Tell me where Jamie is."

"No. And since I'm the only one who knows, I guess it will have to

stay a secret. But tell me, what would you do if I told you? Call the

authorities, who don't even believe I'm alive? Tell them I've kidnapped a

woman whose abduction everyone else believes was arranged by her exhusband?" He shook his head. "Poor, stupid McKenna. They'd probably

actually lock you up this time."

"Fine, I'll just beat it out of you." Swinging her arm back, she put

everything she had into the punch as she belted him in the gut. Damon

grunted. His fist swung at her again; she dodged it and came back at him

with another jab. Before she could deliver it, a giant hand grabbed her from

behind. Out of instinct, McKenna whirled and punched. Agony vibrated

through her arm as her fist slammed into a rock-hard chest. Simon, the one

who'd grabbed her from the helicopter. Close to seven feet tall and built like

a tank. Not a man she could take down with just one slug.

Simon didn't even flinch. Before she could try another punch in a

more vulnerable area, he spun her around to face Damon and then picked her

up as if she were a doll.

"Thank you, Simon," Damon said. "I was beginning to wonder if

anyone was going to come along and take care of my troublesome fiancee

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for me."

McKenna felt like the girl in the
King Kong
movie. Simon held her at

least two feet above the floor. Making use of her dangling legs, she focused

on the one area of Damon's body that would cause him the most pain, the

most embarrassment. Wishing for steel-toed boots, she made do with her

bare foot and kicked him deep in the balls.

The earsplitting shriek almost made up for the suffocating agony of

Simon's crushing arms. Before she could deliver another kick, Simon

wrapped one of his long legs around both her legs, stopping her.

Holding his hand over his crotch, Damon was bent over, gagging.

Years ago this had been one of her dreams, and she had finally made it a

reality. McKenna knew she would pay dearly for what she had done, but in

that one brief moment she had never felt prouder.

As Damon tried to recover, McKenna allowed herself to spew the

words she'd longed to say for years. "You're a pathetic piece of shit, Damon

Hughes. You think I or any other woman could love someone like you?

You're nothing but vermin, garbage. You--"

Damon straightened and delivered a hard, backhanded slap to

McKenna's face. She ignored her throbbing jaw as fury continued to fuel

her. "You think you can do anything to anybody, but you're nothing but a

lowlife, a good-for-nothing piece--"

The next blow caused stars to appear. Stunned into silence, McKenna

blinked rapidly, fighting to gather her wits.

Damon's face was purple with rage. Tears of pain poured from his

eyes. The kick had definitely done some damage. The bastard would try to

punish her more, but at least he wouldn't try raping her for a while.

Once again, McKenna used the only weapon she had left. "You're

nothing but an ugly-as-sin, tiny-dicked moron."

Snarling, Damon lunged forward, wrapped his hands around her

throat, and squeezed. The roaring in her ears battled with the thundering of

her heart. His face blurred before her...she was losing consciousness. She

twisted, squirmed, tried to kick, to get away. The roaring in her ears

deafened Damon's words as he screamed at her. His red, furious face was the

last thing she saw....

With extreme effort, Damon removed his hands from McKenna's

neck. She was slumped over. Unconscious or dead? Checking her pulse, he

was only slightly relieved that he hadn't killed her. Pain speared through his

groin and nausea clawed inside him. She deserved death, but what McKenna

didn't seem to understand was that his love was forever. Just because she

chose to hurt him didn't mean he stopped loving her. She had hurt him years

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ago and it hadn't killed his love.

But now her punishment would be more severe than he had originally

planned. Before, he had been prepared to spend only a day or two on

disciplining her. Now that had changed. McKenna would know weeks,

perhaps months of agony. When she emerged from her punishment, there

would be no defiance, no anger inside her. Even if he had to burn, beat, and

fuck her to within an inch of her life, she would be a changed person. The

McKenna of today would never exist again.

Still, he had already made plans, and everything would go forward.

McKenna would just be a little more silent than usual. "Take her back to her

room. Tie her down. I'll be there soon."

Simon threw her slender body over his shoulder as if he were carrying

a feather. Not for the first time, Damon was happy to have found the ox. He

might be low on brains, but he more than made up for it by his amazing

strength.

Their marriage would take place tomorrow, but there would be one

additional bit of entertainment to add to the festivities. He had thought to

present Lucas Kane's dead, bloodied body as a wedding gift. Instead, it

would be a performance of spectacular proportions. He'd rarely had an

audience when he killed; tomorrow he would make an exception.

He had hired a photographer to come in after the ceremony. Damon

only hoped the man wasn't too squeamish. Pictures of Lucas Kane's blooddrenched carcass would be a perfect addition to the wedding album.

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Twenty-one

McKenna woke slowly, painfully, aware that something was very

wrong. Moving her head slightly, she moaned at the excruciating pain

coming from her neck and throat. Tears sprang to her eyes as she tried to

swallow. Agony! Was it strep or something worse? Her throat hadn't hurt

this bad even when she had the flu. Her mind was blurred, felt dim and slow.

She moved to touch her throat and realized she couldn't. Her arms

were tied to the side of the bed. Her legs were bound, too. Memory slammed

into her like a sledgehammer. She'd challenged Damon, hurt his pride and

his manhood; he'd almost choked her to death. And now she could barely

move.

Great going, McKenna
.

Lying back on the pillow, she tried to ignore the pain in her throat as

she reviewed her options. As satisfying as it had been to hurt him, she knew

she was lucky he hadn't killed her. Even though his insane delusions told

him he loved her, he could have easily lost control. The selfishness of her act

wasn't lost on her. If he had killed her, Jamie Kendrick might never be