The fiery sting was turning to ice now, dripping into her veins like snow melt. What was in that needle? She could feel the rush of it in her veins, which were going as silvery as the ore in the mines.Poor little sparrow.She drew in a labored breath.The floor is slippery.
Rael pushed her at Cal, who wrapped his arms around her.
This is bad, she thought, stating it like a fact. But the words just sat there like letter blocks she didn’t know what to do with. She gave a weak attempt at a struggle that Cal didn’t even bother to acknowledge. She could feel his breathing at her back, quick and light from the chase.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she said.
Cal didn’t respond, and she sagged against him as her heart tried—and failed—to jumpstart itself with fear. Instead, she was forced to remain there, loosely imprisoned, as Gideon picked up her dropped purse and began placing the things in it on his desk, shoving aside the frames to make room. “Jesus,” he said appreciatively. “Little Miss Nancy Drew had you by the balls, son.”
“Cal,” said Nadine, in an effortful voice. “Please.”
“You flew too high, darling,” Cal said, running a thumb along one of her trapped wrists. “Now it’s time to clip your wings.”
Terror flared through her, as hot as a branding iron. She tried to hold onto it, to keep herself from falling, but not even that was enough to keep her from the darkness that was pulling her down: it was a darkness as black and as absolute as the tarnished soul of the man who held her.
C H A P T E R
F I F T E E N
? all roads lead to me ?
She dropped like a bird from the sky.
Even now, she was already drooping in his arms. Curling in on herself, like a moth in a cyanide-filled jar. When her eyes slipped closed and she finally went slack, something pulled taut in his chest. He tightened his grip on her body and was uneasy when she did not resist.
(Please don’t hurt me)
“What did you inject her with?” he demanded.
The sheriff tossed the used needle in the trash. Improper disposal of medical waste, not that anyone around here would care. “Just a little anesthetic we keep on hand to pacify the crazies. She’ll wake up soon enough. If you want her to, that is. If you don’t, I can take care of that easily enough.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Gideon scoffed. “It’d be a hell of a lot simpler than whatever you’ve got planned.”
Cal allowed some of his distaste for the man to show through when he said, “She’s mine.”
“Fond of her, are you? I thought she was just another one of your little wood-games.” Gideon began straightening the frames again, arranging his little family around him. “Does your father know about this?”
Cal glanced at the silent woman in his arms. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re making a mistake.” Abandoning his arrangement of the frames, Gideon walked around and propped a hip against his desk, arms folded. “The girl’s wound up so tight that she ticks. At least her sister was a looker. What you’ve got there is a walking liability.”
“This is just a setback,” Cal said. “He allowed Ben far more leeway.”
“Yeah? And now he’s a widower. Is that what you want to be?”
“I’ll take care of this. Don’t tell my father.”
Gideon shrugged like it made little difference to him. It probably didn’t. Fucking terrified she-deer in the woods and enjoying the financial kickbacks were probably the only motivators a man as simple-minded as Gideon Crocker needed to continue existing.
“You’ll want to take care of her phone. She took pictures of everything.”
Cal grimaced. “Did she send anything to anyone?”
“Not that I could see. Would have told your father if I had. He’s the one I’m loyal to.”
Loyalty. Cal’s mouth twitched into a humorless smile as he began stuffing the various papers back into Nadine’s purse. There were only two things he knew of that bought loyalty: money and blood—and not even those were certainties.
