A Margin of Lust (The Seven Deadly Sins #1)(66)

He dragged her toward the side of the house where Lance had placed the lockbox. He'd put there instead of on the front door so agents would have to call to find out its location, adding another layer of security. She wondered if all their efforts would backfire on her now. They'd made the house a fort.

She and Mo passed the trash area. There was no odor. Even the garbage cans had been abandoned. That she was truly alone with him became a solid reality. This wasn't a bad dream or the last minutes of a television crime drama where the heroine is rescued by a brilliant detective.

A sob built in her chest, but she caught her breath and wouldn't give it voice. She had to play along, befriend him if she could. She prayed a silent prayer he wouldn't kill her as soon as she gave him her code.

She toyed with the idea of giving him the wrong number, then pleading ignorance when it didn't work. No. Then he'd have no need for her. He'd probably slit her throat right here by the garbage cans.

He pulled the electronic key from his pocket. "What's the code?" he said.

It was the month and day of Emily's birthday. Her throat ached as she repeated it. A fissure of longing for her children, for Art, opened in her chest. It was suddenly clear, whatever she'd seen in the alley alongside Enzo's, it wasn't betrayal. In the deep places of her being she knew her husband. He loved her, and he was a man of integrity.

Mo turned toward her with the house key in his hand. Gwen braced herself for an attack. Maybe she deserved it. Her stupidity had put her here, in this dangerous place. But she didn't want to die without explaining things to Art, without telling him she hadn't slept with Lance whatever it looked like. Without asking his forgiveness.

"Let's go in, shall we?" Mo said.

She exhaled in relief. He must not realize using the key would send a notice to the security company. The hope she'd felt earlier began to revive. If someone was looking for her, surely they'd check her e-key records. But the hope quickly wilted. Why would anyone look for her?

Art and the kids were gone for the weekend. Even Maricela wouldn't notice her absence until Monday. Gwen had thrown up smoke screens between herself and all the people who cared about her to hide her rendezvous with Lance. Regret and shame billowed over her.

She followed Mo to the front door. A jolt of excitement hit her—the alarm system. It didn't deactivate until 5:00 AM. She looked at the sun and tried to remember what time sunrise was this time of year. It could be before five—maybe just.

Mo inserted the key in the lock. Gwen held her breath. He turned it and pushed open the door. Silence reigned. Her pulse slowed from a gallop to a heavy plod. It was after five.

The fresh coat of paint in the entryway surprised her. For a moment she'd forgotten the time she and Lance had spent here. She'd expected to see the house the way it had been before they'd dressed it up.

The primping seemed so pointless now. The house was damaged. There was cancer in its walls. It was a painted prostitute, promising pleasure but delivering disease. How had Gwen not seen it before?

Mo pulled her down the short hallway to the left of the staircase and opened the door. At first, she could see nothing. He pawed at the wall for a moment, and an overhead lamp switched on. A sickly, yellow light illuminated a steep, wooden staircase descending into blackness. Fear lived at the bottom.

Gwen was transported to a time long past. She was on a road trip with her parents. She was ten. She heard the crunch of gravel under tires. Felt the scorching heat of the summer sun. Smelled hot sagebrush and tar. Saw the green and white sign of Carlsbad Caverns.

"It'll be fun, honey," her mother said. Her voice was cheerful, but her eyes worried.

"The caverns are well lit and perfectly safe," her father said. "I've always believed the best way to get over your fears is to face them. You'll be glad you did it."

They purchased tickets. Gwen was promised an ice cream afterward if she would only be a brave girl. But as soon as the cave walls closed around her and the daylight disappeared, she turned and ran.

That same panic welled up from a cold place deep in her stomach. Just as she had at ten, she bolted toward the comfort of daylight. Mo caught her before she'd gone three steps.

"Where do you think you're going?" he said. "I want to show you something. Downstairs."

"No, no please." Her words came in gasps.

"Don't be stupid. There's nothing to be afraid of." He muscled her toward the doorway.

"If you're going to kill me, don't do it down there." The stairway terrorized her more than anything else had in this terrible night. It was even worse than the closeness of the car. At least in the trunk, she'd known she was above ground. Air and light were seeping in through the metal seams.

"I'm not going to kill you. I told you that. Not if you do what I ask." His voice grew angry.

"I will. I will. But don't take me down there. Please," she said, claustrophobia reducing her to a sniveling mess.

He grabbed Gwen by the hair and yanked hard. "I will pull all this pretty auburn hair out of your head if you don't stop being so difficult."

He led her by her hair to the top of the steps and down. She tripped several times, missing one riser, then two. She fell into him twice before they reached the bottom.

Ahead yawned a hallway, dotted every five feet with murky puddles of light. He dragged her forward. They passed doors on either side as they tunneled deeper into the airless place.