Anything He Wants: The Betrayal(15)



“What happened in Kosovo?” the voice asked conversationally.

“An informant betrayed us,” Ethan replied, voice neutral. “We didn’t realize until after the fact that our target had kidnapped the man’s wife and family, so he gave us up to save them.”




“Did they all survive?”

“No,” came the clipped reply.

“Pity, although perhaps a fitting end for his crimes. Betrayal really is the nastiest of sins, wouldn’t you say?”

Ethan’s knuckles on the steering wheel were white from the strain of his grip, but he didn’t reply to the obvious taunt. “What are you going to do with the girl?” Ethan asked after a short pause.

“Kill her, then kill your friend when he comes to save her.”

I moaned and squeezed my eyes shut, tears leaking from the edge of my lashes. When I opened them again, I saw Ethan staring at me in the rearview mirror. “And if I don’t bring her to you?”

“I kill your precious wife. Hmm, eventually. She really is a pretty little thing, if you like redheads that is.”

Ethan’s hands twisted on the steering wheel. “You son of a bitch…”

There was a commotion on the other end of the line, then a woman screamed in pain. Celeste. Ethan swerved the car at the sound, bellowing, “Stop it!”

The screaming stopped but the soft sobbing in the background was almost as gut-wrenching. “If you don’t want any more marks on your precious wife,” the voice stated, no longer amused, “you won’t call me any more names. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Ethan growled, but his profile was a bleak hopelessness.

My heart was pounding, threatening to leap from my chest. My breaths came shaky and fast. “Ethan, please,” I whispered, throat constricting at the thought of what was coming. I don’t want to die!

“Shut her up,” the assassin said.

I squirmed, desperate to get free, as Ethan grabbed a white rag from the passenger seat and reached back toward me. His long arms found my face easily but I fought, holding my breath and twisting everywhere I could against the seatbelts to get away. Ethan had the patience of Job, however, and spots danced along my vision as I quickly exhausted my oxygen supply. I sobbed out a breath, the sickly sweet aroma of the drug trickling down into my lungs, and seconds later I fell back into unconsciousness.

This time, there were no dreams.





4

I didn’t know how long I was out this time, but the increased rocking and bouncing of the car was what initially pulled me out of my drug-induced slumber. It wasn’t until we stopped, however, that I became fully conscious, the sudden lack of movement jarring me awake. There was the sound of a car door and clunk of a seat, then my legs were grabbed. Involuntarily I fought but my struggles were weak and ineffectual as I was pulled from the vehicle and slung over a shoulder. Chill air circulated off the water and I immediately began to shiver, the thin clothing I wore no match for the wet winter gust.

“Can you stand?” Ethan’s voice rumbled nearby.

My stomach roiled, nausea threatening to overwhelm me, but I managed a weak, “Yes.” The world spun again but Ethan was gentle, setting me on my feet beside the car. I staggered, placing a hand on the glossy sports car for support, and forced myself to look around. Seagulls screeched above, plaintive cries slicing through the air. The ocean surf lapped rhythmically nearby but I wasn’t able to see the opposing shoreline with the fog over the water. Factory buildings lined the seaside road, blocking us in. The waterfront road was narrow and hazy, tendrils of fog snaking in over the bumpy asphalt, but I saw another car a few hundred yards away pointed ominously toward us. “Is that…?”

I noticed something from the corner of my eye and glanced back to see a gun in Ethan’s hand. My breath quickened but he caught my gaze and shook his head ever so slightly, keeping the weapon pointed to the ground and hidden behind my body. “Where’s my wife?” he called out to the assassin who was still obviously listening from the car.

The door to the car nearby opened, confirming my fears. A slim figure with very red hair staggered out of the vehicle as the door was shut behind her. “Ethan?” Celeste called, her voice tinny over the distance.

“I’m here, Celeste,” he called back, and I could feel the tension leak out of his body as Celeste’s head snapped in our direction. She staggered toward us, and I could see she was both blindfolded and had her hands cuffed behind her.

Sara Fawkes's Books