He looks smug. “Why would I trust you with that information?”
“You want me to work for you, right? That means I’ll have to know who you are. Besides the fact that if you don’t like what I say, you can put a bullet between my eyes.”
“You can call me the senator.”
“Is that supposed to be ironic? Like you’re actually in the House of Representatives, so we call you the senator to throw them off the scent?”
The senator straightens his jacket, frowning down at me. He looks fucking terrifying. Like a man possessed. I’m not sure if I can feel appropriate levels of fear, except when it comes to Holly. I shouldn’t be afraid of this guy at all, but there’s a glint in his eyes I don’t like. “This woman,” he says. “She can be yours. Tied up in a penthouse suite whenever you get back from a mission. Whatever you want. You were underpaid before. Underappreciated. That changes now.”
“I prefer to do my own kidnapping, but thanks.”
“Women. Money. Anything you want can be yours if you work for me.”
“I think you might be getting ahead of yourself.” I flex my fingers so they don’t fall off from being restrained behind my back. “People are going to look into the colonel’s business now that he’s dead. People will find out that the two of you were connected. Maybe they’ll ask questions. I could probably help them connect a few dots.”
He grits his teeth, and for the first time since he entered the room I’ve gotten under his skin. I rotate my wrists around in the bonds to see if the rope loosens up.
It doesn’t.
The senator is openly scowling. Openly hating the fact that I remember things from a time other than now. He strides toward me, eating up the distance between us in four long steps. But he doesn’t stop when it would be normal. He stops right in front of me and reaches down to the front of my pants.
“What the fuck—”
The sentence dies mid-thought because he squeezes. The senator is crushing the life out of my balls. They feel flattened. Irredeemable. I’m never going to be able to repair the damage he’s done. This is for Holly. All of this is for Holly. Remember that.
He twists, and pain explodes across my belly. It’s punctuated by the senator laughing. “If I get my hands on your girl,” he says. “I’m going to fuck her until she bleeds from her pussy.”
I focus on breathing through my gritted teeth. Fuck, I’m angry. I’m so angry, and it hurts to be here. There’s one way to make it hurt less.
I let my eyes close, then murmur something unintelligible.
The senator leans in closer. “What was that?”
“Fuck you,” I tell him.
“Remember.” His forehead is inches from mine. “Remember what just came out of your mouth, asshole. Remember that when I’m reaming your pretty little girlfriend in the ass.”
I mumble again, and the senator can’t resist. He just can’t. He leans in even closer, struggling to understand me and probably hoping to have me shot right now.
That’s when I snap my head forward and slam my forehead into the senator’s head. He reels back, sitting down hard on the floor and sucking in deep breath after deep breath.
My own head hurts.
It hurts like a bitch.
Like a cracked skull. A dying star.
He’s still down there when I maneuver the rope around my wrists into a position where I can leverage my own body weight to get it off. By the time I’m freed from the goddamn steel chair, the senator is coming around to regular consciousness. He gets his feet under him, eyes searching for the door, but I haul him up higher.
It gives me the perfect positioning for an effective choke hold.
The senator, it turns out, doesn’t have a lot of experience being in a choke hold. He doesn’t struggle nearly enough. A few halfhearted swipes at my arms and face and he’s already going limp in my arms. When his head falls to the side I drop him to the floor.
There’s nothing to do but run.
Airport hangers are built with several exits, so I take the one the Army men didn’t use.
The cold air slams into me like a living god that’s pissed at me. Being outside is a shock to the system. A blistering return to reality. I’m out here anyway.
With no shoes and no shirt and a deep constellation of bruises all over my body. I’m covered in blood. I must look like a nightmare.
But even nightmares have places to be.
It’s at least twenty miles to New York City. The light pollution acts as a beacon. Icy cold seeps in through the soles of my feet. It’s only going to get worse when I leave the concrete pad that supports the airport hanger. One step into the snow proves me right. It’s goddamn freezing.
I’m never going to make it.
Two steps and I know I’m going to lose some toes.
I’ll make it, but maybe not in one piece.
Ten steps and the pain is like knives. Moving hurts. Stepping in the snow hurts. Keeping my eyes open hurts.
I keep them open anyway.
I’m going to find her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Holly
Adam stares out the window of London’s apartment for a long time.
Then he rubs both hands over his face and lets out a long, tortured breath. “It’s traitors all the way down, Holly. The colonel had a chain of command, too. Someone was giving him orders.”
“Fine. Who’s above him?” Something important inside me has snapped. London has Adam here, for god’s sake. That’s at least as dangerous as being around Elijah, so I don’t buy this bullshit that I should stay away for my own safety. “Give me a name.”
“It’s not so simple.” Adam’s eyes flicker over to London, who is still standing by her bedroom with a towel around her hair.
She looks from Adam to me and back again. “I’m going to get dressed.”
“Good idea.” It’s an asshole tone to take with her but I am at the end of my rope. Later I’ll have to deal with the fact that I am pissed at her for not telling me about Adam the moment he showed up in her apartment. It’s clear from the way he answered the door that he didn’t arrive ten minutes ago. He’s been here. London disappears into her bedroom and closes the door.
“Give me a name.” My spine feels like steel on fire. If there’s one thing I’m not going to do, it’s walk out of this apartment without getting anything out of Adam. He owes me this. Sorry about kidnapping you isn’t going to cut it. “Or I swear to god, Adam.”
Before he put me in that first white van, it might have been an empty threat. Back then I didn’t know how to shoot a gun and wouldn’t have had the balls to get one and use it. Now I’m willing to do anything. Anything. Up to and including threaten my former kidnapper.
He doesn’t laugh. My face must be proof of my new take-no-prisoners attitude.
The light in the room changes. We’re heading toward late afternoon and fast. It’ll be full dark by six. I don’t care if it gets dark. All I care about is taking another step forward. I won’t know the shape of the game until I can feel the walls caging us in.
“There’s a fundraiser tonight.”
I want to strangle him for this until I realize he’s not telling me that he has another engagement or that we should attend for altruistic reasons. Of course he isn’t. This is Adam. Adrenaline injects itself into my veins and makes the tips of my fingers throb.