The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)(43)

“Don’t tell me you’re impatient,” Barinov whispered harshly in her ear. He pulled her down the steps and into the alleyway then over to the black sedan that was parked in the middle.

“Never,” Morgan said between gritted teeth.

The Russian yanked open the back door of the car and looked at Gregg.

“You will join us, Mr. Kincaid,” he commanded.

“W-why?” Gregg asked.

“Because I told you to.”

The satisfaction Morgan felt at seeing her brother’s face drain of color was short-lived. She had a terrible feeling she knew why they both were getting into the car.

And, based on the terrified look on Gregg’s face, so did he.

He tossed Morgan in after Gregg. She had barely righted herself before she felt the hard round barrel of a gun being pressed hard into her side as the man sat down next to her.

So much for escape.

Barinov must have read her mind. “Just in case you had plans of leaving us early.”

His lips quirked up again and chills ran clear down to the base of Morgan’s spine.

Another one of the suits slid into the driver’s seat and they pulled onto Fillmore Street. The sun had risen just high enough to shine off the windows of the distant high-rises.

On any other day, she’d still be asleep—just like she should have been today. She should still be wrapped up warm and safe in Ty’s arms, not quite ready to open her eyes, groggily pleading for a few more minutes of sleep.

But that wasn’t how things were going to work out.

Instead, she was taking what was most probably her last trip down the city streets with a handgun digging into her kidneys.

Morgan should have spent the time reflecting on her life, all her mistakes and regrets. But only two stood out in her mind, the only ones that seemed to matter.

She would never see Ty again, and she didn’t get the chance to tell him goodbye.





Chapter Fifteen




Ty yanked on the brakes of the Ducati hard enough that the bike swerved hard on its wheels. He regained control easily enough and tilted over to the side of the street, wedging between two parked cars and out of view.

He was only half a block away from Kincaid’s but he might as well been halfway around the world.

He was too late.

A pristine black sedan was pulling out from between the buildings and into the street. It was difficult to see faces through the tinted windows. Not that Ty needed a visual. The sinking feeling in the pit of his belly was enough.

Morgan was in that car.

He kept his eyes on them as they took off down the street, but hung back for a count of five before he pulled into traffic. The last thing he wanted was for the Bratva to notice they were being followed.

That wasn’t exactly true. The last thing that he wanted was for Morgan to be in that car at all.

He’d tried to muster up some anger on the ride over, but all he’d been able to manage was fear—a terrible fear that he was already too late.

There would be time enough for anger later. After he was holding Morgan safe in his arms.

Ty laid off the throttle as he rolled down the street. It wasn’t as if he needed to worry about losing the car in traffic. He had a little help this time.

“She’s moving fast down Fillmore Street headed south,” Michael’s voice sounded in Ty’s ear. “It looks like she’s in a car.”

“Affirmative,” Ty said. “Unfortunately, she’s not alone.”

There was a long pause on the other end.

“Gregg?” Michael asked.

“Among others.”

“Shit,” Michael muttered.

Ty’s sentiment exactly.

“I’m going to fall back a little in traffic and keep hidden,” Ty said, pulling behind a long MUNI bus. “So, I’m going to need you to keep your eye on where they’re taking her.”

“Of course,” Michael said. “See, it’s a good thing I didn’t trust you after all.”

Ty had gone to Michael first thing after finding Morgan missing, hoping more than believing he would find the two hanging out. But luckily the trip hadn’t been a waste of time. Michael didn’t know where she was, but he said he could find out.

It turned out that the man wasn’t feeling suddenly chummy at the end of their conversation. That pat on the back had really been Michael planting a tracking device under the collar of Ty’s jacket.

Under any other circumstances, Ty would have been furious, but as it was he’d never been so happy that someone had so little faith in his abilities.

Now, Michael was busy tracking Morgan and Ty was able to maintain the element of surprise. He had a feeling it was the only real advantage that he held.

“They’re turning east on Dubois,” Michael said. “It looks like they’re heading down toward the freeway.”

Now Ty was the one that felt like cursing as he followed them onto the onramp to 101 South. There was only one possible reason for wanting to take Morgan out of the city.

Ty followed Michael’s directions, getting off in South San Francisco and winding his way toward the waterfront. Eventually, Ty pulled up to a long chain link fence that surrounded an old junkyard.

The place was perfect for Barinov to bring a victim—large, isolated, and flush against the bay for easy disposal. Not to mention plenty of room to hide the full force of Bratva security.