Skin Deep (Station Seventeen #1)(103)
That second one didn’t seem likely, seeing as his hands were zip tied in front of him and he’d taken enough of a beating after he’d regained consciousness to be seeing double and spitting blood.
Oh hell. Isabella was going to walk right into this. DuPree was going to do the same to her, and it would only get worse.
Kellan had to get out of these restraints and take that gun.
“Get up, pretty boy. The boss wants you.” Rampage grabbed him by the back of the neck and hauled him to his feet. Kellan forced his body to remain lax, allowing his head to loll deeply even though the move sent stars sparking across his field of vision. Better to let them think he was still off-kilter to keep their guards lower.
Rampage kicked at Kellan’s heels, shoving him from behind. He stumbled his way out of the penthouse’s main room—nineteen steps—down a back hallway—twelve steps—and into a wood-paneled room that looked as if it had been horked out by Masterpiece Theater. DuPree sat behind a huge mahogany desk, looking as smarmy as ever in a navy blue suit and a repulsive smile.
“Ah, Mr. Walker. So nice of you to join us.” He gestured to the spot in front of his desk, and Rampage gave Kellan an extra shove for his trouble.
“Sorry.” Kellan slurred on purpose, slipping one thumb around the zip tie at his wrists to test their thickness. Damn, this was going to take some doing. “I didn’t realize I had a choice.”
DuPree’s expression read good point. “Yes. Well, I have to say it was quite the happy coincidence that you left Detective Moreno’s apartment after she and I set up our engagement. The truth is, I’ve been waiting for the two of you to separate all week. Divide and conquer, you know. I thought the plan to use those cock-sucking whores to goad her here was rather clever, but you…” He wagged a finger, and Christ, Kellan was tempted to bite the digit clean off. “When I saw you walk out of her apartment building a few hours ago, you made things all too perfect.”
“You saw me?” Kellan blanked his expression to keep his emotions hidden, but DuPree’s were on full display, the pride practically pouring out of him.
“Don’t you know by now, I see everything? Accessing the security feeds for her building was all too easy, and now I have her where it hurts the most. She’s a dirty little slut, letting her brazen impulses lead her into my party, trying to outsmart me, to make me look weak. She needs to be punished.”
Kellan’s stomach pitched, his heart beating faster in his chest. This guy had gone around the bend. “So you’re going to punish her?”
DuPree smiled, pure evil in his soulless eyes. “And you’re going to watch.”
Kellan felt his lunge forward only after his body had decided to go. Pain detonated across his already-injured temple, stunning him into place, and the sticky warmth of fresh blood trickled over his jaw and into the neck of his T-shirt. Anger sizzled like a living, breathing thing under his skin, stealing his focus and snatching at his composure.
Breathe. In, two, three, four, five. Out, two, three. Breathe.
Kellan buckled down, bracing to take the next blow. Only what came instead was a tense voice through the intercom speaker on the cherry-paneled wall by the door.
“Uh, boss. I hate to interrupt, but it looks like your girl is early.”
Kellan’s heart tripped against his sternum. Isabella.
Rampage paused, his hand still raised in an upswing, and DuPree’s expression turned to granite. “I’m sorry,” DuPree hissed. “How is that possible?”
“None of the feeds at her apartment show her leaving the place at all, but she just popped up in the lobby downstairs. She’s solo, and no phone calls went in or out on her cell, the firefighter’s cell, or her landline. I have no idea how she slipped the surveillance, but if she contacted anybody, it was either by smoke signals or fucking semaphore,” said Intercom Boy.
“Of course.” The muscles along DuPree’s clean-shaven jawline jumped, and yeah, Kellan thought as he covertly angled the locking mechanism of the zip tie between both wrists. He was running out of time.
“She’s trying to throw me off by changing the rules. Insolent bitch. Charles, watch him,” DuPree said, jerking his head toward Kellan. “Franco, go escort the detective in. It looks as if we’re starting this party early.”
* * *
Isabella slid her finger beneath the thin silver chain around her neck, focusing on her breathing even though her lungs were filled with far more adrenaline than air. But her plan was in place—was already in motion—and she was one hundred percent certain it would work.
She’d done the right thing. She had Kellan’s back.
Now she was going to get him back.
The thought steadied her hands along with her nerves as the elevator whispered up on a nonstop route to the penthouse, and she tacked on her poker face when the doors opened to reveal Franco, aka Scarface from the party.
Here we go. “I’m here to see your boss.”
“You’re early,” Franco said with a sneer.
“He’ll see me anyway,” Isabella flipped back, and Franco’s face split into a crooked-toothed grin.
“He’s gonna love making you pay for that.” Franco proceeded to frisk her, his grabby hands lingering in all the places she’d expected them to before he led her past the front door.