DONOVAN (Gray Wolf Security, #1)(166)

“We have our reasons.”

“You have a reason for torturing your own brother?”

She stiffened, all movement ceasing. But then she just started cleaning again.

“Rachel, I know it’s you. And if I know, I’m sure Lucien is figuring it out right now. Lucien and Jacob.”

“Not necessarily.”

“You followed us to San Antonio. You followed us on the Riverwalk. You were even on the elevator with us, weren’t you?”

Again she stiffened, but she didn’t stop working. She cleaned those cans until the labels were moist and beginning to flake off.

“Do you really think Lucien won’t think back on every moment of time we spent there and realize that was you? If he hadn’t been so focused on me, he probably would have realized it at the time.”

“He doesn’t know.”

“But he will. What will you do then?”

“By then, we’ll have what we want.”

“You’re his sister. Do you think he’ll understand?”

She turned and looked at me, slowly tugging the mask off of her face. Her eyes were wide and red, as though she’d been crying.

“He did this. We asked him over and over…”

“Asked him what?”

She shook her head. “I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

“Then let me go. Let me call Lucien. We can work something out.”

She shook her head. “It’s too late for that. He’s got your father involved.”

“I can handle my dad.”

She just shook her head again even as tears began to spill over her cheeks. “Things were supposed to be so simple. We send a couple of emails, shake him up a little. And then he would do what we wanted. But it wasn’t that simple. And now—”

“Let me go, Rachel. Let me fix this.”

“How are you going to fix it?”

That was a good question. I didn’t know.

“I can talk to Lucien.”

“We’ve talked and talked. He’s not talking back.” She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t understand what he’s done.”

“Then tell me.”

She studied my face for a long minute; then she just shook her head. “There’s no point in talking anymore. We all understand that now. You should, too.”

“Maybe if I knew what was going on,” I said, dipping my head in what I hoped was a defeated look. But I wasn’t defeated. Another pull and—

“I should go,” Rachel said. “I’m not supposed to be in here.”

She turned just as my wrist came free of the cable tie holding it in place. I jumped to my feet, kicking at the chair until it fell over and my ankles came free from the bottom of the chair legs. I rushed Rachel, grabbing her shirt just as she was about to slip out the door.

Rachel cried out as she fell back. I moved around her and slipped out the door, pulling it shut. It locked automatically, just as I’d suspected, and she was trapped inside. She immediately began banging against the door, screaming for me to open it, but I wouldn’t have known how even if I’d wanted to.

I was standing in a well-outfitted kitchen that I knew almost instantly. Stupid girl had brought me to her parents’ beach house. That’s how I’d known it was her. I’d recognized it when she brought me inside.

I went to the sink and ran cool water over my raw wrists. It burned, forcing me to close my eyes and whisper a few unkind words. I was bleeding pretty good from where the cable ties had bitten into my flesh. Nothing so bad that I would need stitches, but it would be pretty sore for a couple of days. I found a couple of towels in a nearby drawer and wrapped them around my wrists. Then I searched the cabinets for some sort of bandage, but couldn’t find anything.

I walked cautiously through the kitchen into the long, open living room. I didn’t think there was anyone else here, but thought I’d be better off safe than sorry. I pulled the blinds in the living room, blocking the dim moonlight coming in through the French doors and long, beautiful windows on either side of the room. Then down the hall, peeking inside each of the four bedrooms. Then the master.

Nothing.

I slipped into the room I’d shared with Lucien on our visit here this past weekend. He had a first aid kit in a drawer there. I fixed my wrists and removed the cable ties on my ankles with a pair of scissors in another drawer. Then, down the hall to the master bedroom, I searched through a few dresser drawers and found a pair of jeans that weren’t too terribly large for me. A belt could do wonders.

A pair of shoes and a light jacket, and I felt more like myself.

Now…what the hell was going on? And who the f*ck was ‘we’?





Chapter 33


Lucien

“What? Who do you think it is?”

“We need to get to Katy,” Jacob said. “The meeting place.”

“But what about San Antonio? What did the hotel tell you?”

Jacob looked at me, his expression unreadable. “When you hired Ruben and his goons, did you have any idea what was behind all this?”

I started to shake my head, but he interrupted me.

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“It was a reporter. Some reporter called and asked specifically about the artificial pancreas. There are only a handful of people who know—”