Claude had initially started toward Dean, but seeing how efficiently Dean had dealt with his partner, he’d reconsidered and started backing off toward the stairs.
Dean was on him in a few seconds and quieted him as well with a couple of well-placed blows, but unfortunately not before Claude had called out a warning.
Dean doubted Jean Paul had heard him, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Pulling a multitool from his jeans, he sliced Annie’s ties with the knife while pocketing the gun that had come to rest not far from her feet. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.
He could feel her eyes on him. When he finally met her gaze, he wasn’t surprised to see her expression. It was shock tinged with a bit of awe and fear. Unfortunately he didn’t have time to reassure her.
Machine.He didn’t know why he remembered that now.
“Get some of those ties from the bag and secure them.They should be out for a while, but I don’t want to take any chances.” He looked at her again, holding her gaze. “Annie, do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Good, and do a better job than your boyfriend over there. Make sure they are on right.”
That snapped her back to attention. Her eyes flashed angrily. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Dean smiled. “Good.”
He was almost to the door when she stopped him. “Be careful.”
He nodded. “Get them tied up, all right?”
He was halfway down the stairs when the lights went out.
He swore. Although it was still daylight, with the storm brewing the skies weren’t giving off much light. It wasn’t pitch-black, but it was dark belowdecks.
One of two things had just happened. If he was lucky, Jean Paul had crossed a couple of wires, interfering with the electrical system. If he was unlucky, Jean Paul had heard Claude’s warning.
Dean wasn’t going to count on luck. Retracing his steps, he returned to the deck. Seeing Annie still in the midst of tying them up, he put his finger over his mouth to warn her and continued around to the forward stairs that led directly into the engine room.
Retrieving a couple of flares from one of the seats that held safety equipment, he poised himself over the entrance and tossed them down.
Now he had some light, and from the gasp of shock, he knew where to look before he jumped down. He was ready. Jean Paul had found a piece of wood and attempted to level it at his head, but Dean ducked and retaliated with a hard punch to the kidneys.
The other man crumpled but didn’t fall, managing to swing the wood against Dean’s jaw. The blow both surprised him and pissed him off.
He tackled Jean Paul to the floor. He was a slippery bastard and almost managed to roll away, but Dean got his arm aroundhis neck in a choke hold first. A few seconds later Jean Paul went slack.
Carrying him up in a fireman’s hold, Dean deposited him—none too gently (his jaw was stinging, damn it)—next to his future cell mates and helped Annie tie him up.
Seeing his face, she gasped and unconsciously reached over to cradle the side of his face in her incredibly soft hand. “You’re hurt.”
He shook his head. It must be as bad as it felt if she could see it through the beard. “I’m fine,” he said, shaking her off, his voice gruff from the strange knot in his chest. “Let’s get out of here.”
With the men incapacitated, there was really no reason to take her with him, but he could see how traumatized she was by what had just happened, and he couldn’t stomach trying to leave her behind again. Yep, the guy who didn’t shrink from anything was pussying out. But he’d get rid of her as soon as he could.
Ten
Colt knew the number by heart, though he’d never dialed it.
It rang three times before someone answered. The voice at the other end was not the one Colt expected.
It belonged to a man. “Hello.”
Colt knew the name that went with the voice but didn’t use it. “Put Kate on the phone.”
There was a puzzled pause on the other end. “Who is this?”
