Deep Under (Tall, Dark and Deadly #4)(66)

It’s on the treadmill, with Kyle by my side, that the photo session starts bothering me again and I’m not sure why. These are the kinds of control games Michael plays with me to prove he owns me. About ten minutes in, I decide I’m worried because I know this is going to upset Kyle, despite the fact that there is nothing dangerous about pictures. I can’t even call them demoralizing, considering the things Michael’s made me do or done to me. Twenty minutes into the run, I don’t think that’s what’s bothering me at all, but I don’t know what is. Thirty minutes in, I still can’t figure out what the heck is grinding at my nerve endings.

At the forty-minute mark, I have an epiphany that hits me like a heart attack and I punch the stop button on my machine, grab my towel, and force myself not to visibly show how freaked out I am right now. Kyle does the same and glances at me. “Are we done?”

“Yes. And I just remembered something I need to tell you back at the suite.”

“How important is this something?”

“I think you’d rate it as a “Why the f*ck didn’t you tell me?” moment.”

“Okay then,” he says, wiping the back of his neck. “We’ll talk in the room where I can react accordingly.”

And we stick to that decision, enduring the ride upstairs and the walk down the hall to the room, in silence. Once we’re in our private space, Kyle flips the locks, points to the bedroom, and follows me inside. “Tell me,” he says, the instant he joins me.

“Don’t we need to…?” I motion to the room for a scan.

“We cancelled housekeeping and set up an alarm on the door today to let our team know when someone enters,” he says. “We’re clear. Tell me.”

“Michael-”

“Alvarez,” he bites out. “Call the f*ckhead Alvarez.”

“Alvarez,” I say, thinking Kyle really isn’t going to be reasonable about those photos. “He told me that if he couldn’t come to me this weekend, he’d have me go to him.”

“And you said?”

“That I really didn’t want to leave before the store opening and I really wanted him to come see my work.”

“And?”

“He said he’d try but then he wanted to have photos taken of me today, but the photographer he was arranging didn’t show up.”

“What photos?”

“The photos aren’t important,” I say, going back to my point. “What’s important is that the photographer didn’t show up. Maybe he didn’t set it up because he’s coming here after all. And if he comes here now, there’s no way the FBI is ready. Royce was just calling them today.”

“He did call them and they’re actively involved,” he says. “We’ll be ready for him.”

“He could show up tonight for all we know.”

“Everyone is on standby for that possibility and if he’s flying in here tonight, Blake and I will find him.” He sits down at the desk and keys his computer to life.

“I want to help, then,” I say, joining him. “Tell me what to do.”

“Order us some food,” he says. “I’m starving.”

“That’s not helping.”

“I’m pretty f*cking starving, sweetheart,”

“Okay, aside from the food. What can I do?”

“Start making a list of every detail you can remember from this past year. Any name, place, person, or company Alvarez ever associated with. Even favorite foods and restaurants are noteworthy. These things help more than you know.”

I key the other computer to life and pull up a Word document. He turns my chair around and faces me, his hands on the arms of my seat. “Food first, sweetheart.”

“I just want to do something to make a difference.”

“You have and we are. We’re going to be ready. I promise.”

“What if he insists I go to him this weekend?”

“Then we get those women out and we get out.”

“If we don’t get him, he’ll come after me and Kara, which means everyone in our circle, your circle, Kyle.”

“Not if he thinks you’re dead.”

“Yes well, about that plan,” I say, logic hitting me where hope had blinded me before. “Why do we believe he’ll think me dead any more than you did? If he wants me to go to him this weekend, I have to go.”

“You’re not going,” he says, his tone absolute. “We’ll find him.” He cups my face and kisses me. “I’ve got you now, sweetheart. You aren’t getting away.”





***





Kyle and Blake don’t find Alvarez, any more than the FBI does. For three mornings in a row, I wake up in Kyle’s arms with the knowledge that every effort we’ve made the day before to find him and be ready for what he does next, has failed. In fact, Michael is not only missing, but completely silent, zero communication with me at all. The possibilities are night and day: He’s either in hiding, something he does when he’s under an imminent threat, or planning to surprise me by showing up here this weekend.

With this in mind, come Friday morning, we are all up at the crack of dawn, preparing for what could be the day Michael shows up to see me, or sends someone to take me to him. I retreat to my bedroom to shower, and Kyle lets me, mostly I think because he’s talking back and forth with Royce and struggling to get in the shower. Alone for the first time in days, I remind myself that this is all bigger than me. I am not what’s important. Michael Alvarez is dangerous and even if we save those girls he’s kidnapped, there will be others if he escapes. The idea that I can stop him is a powerful drug, one I’ve lived on for a long time, and it fuels me now.