“Yeah, she’s fuckable, I’ll give you that.” Gun’s voice chills me, especially when the fourth man who’s just entered gives me an assessing leer. “Think we should have something pretty to look at while you and I are getting reacquainted.” His next instruction is to me. “Take off your clothes.”
What?
Gun steps away from me, and folds his arms, leaning against the door through which we’ve just entered. “You heard me. Get naked.”
“I will not.” I feel my eyes flash and my spine straightens.
He shrugs. “Either you do it yourself or my men will.”
“Why?” I ask, but my most dire thoughts don’t want him to put it into words. My clothes afford me some protection, little enough, but some. Without them, he and his men could do anything.
Again my eyes go to Finn, but he’s only watching with mild interest as though he really doesn’t care.
Gun swings me around to face him. Once again, his fingers bite into my arms so hard they’ll leave bruises. The suddenness of his action makes me squeak.
“I said get naked,” he snarls. “As for why, because you’re covered in vomit and you fuckin’ stink. Because it’s cold up here in the mountains, and you’ll be less likely to escape. There are animals out there. Barbed wire, brambles. You wouldn’t get far. And because, while I’m talking to Finn, I’d like something pleasant to look at.”
If I get the opportunity, I’d prefer to take my chances with four-legged animals rather than the two-legged version in here.
As I still don’t obey him, he beckons one of the men standing with Finn forward. “You haven’t got a choice, darlin’. Either you take your clothes off or he’ll do it for you. Can’t say which I mind—a striptease or a stripping—but I doubt he’ll be gentle.”
My mind works fast. If I have a chance to escape, I might be able to find my clothes. The man who’s approaching with a gleam in his eyes holds a knife in his hand. If they’re cut off, they’ll be no use.
I can’t argue, I know that. Four armed men against one woman doesn’t give me a chance.
I’ve been naked in front of only a few men. I don’t wear skimpy clothes, and even in my own home, feel better when I’m totally covered. I feel audacious when I dispense with a bra under my top. To expose my body to these men? I’d do anything to avoid that.
Looking toward Finn, I seek a message, a sign of some sort. Has he loosened his bindings? Will he suddenly leap forward like the big bad SEAL that he was and stop me? But his expression is closed off. He’s still staring at me, but as if only half-interested in whether I’m going to obey.
Another step taken by the man approaching me is the encouragement I need, I don’t want him to touch me.
With shaking hands, I start to undo the buttons of my blouse, trying to convince myself I’ll feel better once I’m no longer covered in puke.
It doesn’t work.
24
Stormy…
I didn’t come around until I woke up tied in this fucking chair. That blow to my head must have been hard, maybe cracked my skull from the way my head’s pounding. The pain in my heart takes precedence though. Cat. Where is she? Is she hurt?
The thought that she might already be dead has me struggling against the ties that they’ve bound me with, but Gun knows what he’s doing, of course he fucking does. I’m not going anywhere.
Why was he at the house? As if reviewing security footage, I think back, going over what he said. He hadn’t expected to find me there. No, I was a bonus. So, what the fuck does he want with Cat?
It’s got to be something to do with the connection I’d found between his half-brother and Saul Kincaid. If he was looking for Weston, his search might have led him to Cat. But why the fuck was a former SEAL who, unlike myself, retained his Trident, delving into a plot where Swift was kidnapped as a way to get to Pip?
Damn. Why did they hit my head so fucking hard? My eyes are finding it hard to focus, as is my brain, and I’m sure I’ve got a concussion. Something’s niggling at me, but I can’t quite hold onto it.
Saul Kincaid kidnapped Swift with the intention of Pip giving himself up. Pip had killed his twin brother, and his motive had been revenge. Or, so we had thought.
Pip. Who is he? He’s a disavowed spy by his own account. He took over the Satan’s Devils MC Utah chapter so he could continue to save at least some of the world his way. Admiral Hillier had known him, or at least of him, and had pointed me his way. Pip had his own methods of recruitment. I owe a debt to the man who’d given me back a reason to live.
Was there more to Kincaid’s revenge than just killing the man who took out his brother?
Pip had buried his old identity, had had plastic surgery to change his looks. He’d been safe with the Satan’s Devils for ten years or more, but was his past rearing its ugly head? Was Kincaid not the mastermind, was there someone else behind him pulling his strings? He’d had access to a computer expert to formulate the background that had fooled Dengra. Perhaps that’s the lead we should have investigated.
Could Pip be a danger to someone, someone from his past who was still seeking retribution?
Just where the fuck does Gun fit in?
Fuck this headache. The pounding in my temples is making it hard for me to think. My brain normally works faster, but today the dots are just smudges on a piece of paper.
What does this mean for me, and for Cat? Sure, she’s got a link between her and Tiny, but that’s all there is. Does Gun know what I’ve been doing for the last few years? If he knows I’m a link to Pip and that’s who he’s after, I could be in trouble.
Whatever, I need more brains on it, more than the damaged ones now residing in my battered skull. I’ve got to get out of here and get back to the club. If I could land this problem in the lap of Swift, Honor or Duty, even Bolt or Piston, maybe they could find out more.
I tug at my bindings again, they’re tight, but I’m a SEAL and they can’t keep me trapped. I could get loose, should I get out of here now? But what happens to Cat? Is she here, or is she dead back at the house? Gun wouldn’t have taken me and left her alive, he’s far too careful for that. If she’s here, why, and what are they going to do with her?
I think back to what I remember of Gun.
You get all sorts on a SEAL team, but what you can trust is that they’ve gone through the same training, and are willing to give their lives for the country they serve. I’d been closer to Tailor and Pooh. Gun had always been a little reserved. Like myself, he didn’t talk much about his family. I never knew he had a half-brother. But who was I to criticise? I’d told no one about the way I’d grown up. It hadn’t seemed important.
Unlike myself, Gun didn’t openly criticise our lieutenant commander’s orders. That didn’t stop him being called to see Smythe a number of times, returning with a chip on his shoulder about being singled out. At the time I’d just thought I’d been cleverer, keeping my most traitorous thoughts to myself, or only voicing them to Pooh and Tailor.
Why had Gun left the SEAL team? Was it suspicious that if he hadn’t, he’d have been dead? Just what kind of security had he been providing once he left?