Assassin Treasure (Assassins Book 4) (9 page)

Snuffling, Candy moved away from Dirk and raggedly swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. He smiled at her, then remembering her goose bumps he handed her the sweatshirt he had placed on the counter earlier when carrying her in. She accepted it with a look of gratitude. He stood watching her while she familiarized herself with his kitchen. It was immediately apparent to him she knew what she was doing, and soon the activity seemed to calm her. He accepted the steaming mug of black coffee she handed him, refusing cream and sugar.

“Do you like to cook?” he asked her.

“I had to learn to cook at a young age. Both my parents worked, leaving me alone a lot. I had to fend for myself. I’m comfortable in a kitchen. I learned how to adapt to situations; I learned how to take care of myself.”

He wasn’t certain, but her last sentences sounded strangely like a threat, or a warning. He recalled how Damien traipsed after her through the woods and remembered she eluded him. Granted, Damien was no expert tracker, but she showed perseverance and willfulness. He could see her chance a quick glance out the window.

“I’m going to say this once, Candy, and you need to listen to me.” His tone was direct. She stilled her movement and gave him her undivided attention. “This entire cabin is locked, no one can come in or out without an alarm sounding. If you do manage to escape, although unlikely, we are surrounded by swamp. Deadly snakes and alligators are everywhere, not to mention quicksand and poisonous spiders to name a few. You wouldn’t last two minutes alone. I have this home for a reason; no one leaves here without my say so. I guarantee no one would ever find your body. Do you understand?”

He watched her swallow hard. She nodded, defeat darkened her eyes. Dirk left with his coffee and went to talk with Damien. From his chair, he watched as Candy made her way around the kitchen, her actions stiff. He felt satisfied she would remain where he put her.

* * * *

Damien sat chewing his food with a content expression on his face.

“This is good. It sure beats the soggy wieners Dirk would have ended up making, after he burnt the lasagna,” Damien said and laughed at Dirk’s scowl.

“I bet you’re happy to be eating, instead of being ate,” Dirk replied with a smug look at his brother’s returned scowl.

Candy picked at her food. It was impossible to eat with two huge armed men flanking her. She wanted to go home. She wanted to shut out Dirk’s warning of snakes and alligators and quicksand, better to think of anything than that. Escape into the swamp was impossible. Every chance she had, her gaze fled to the bay window searching for a path. From a different view she saw a hovercraft at a dock and realized unless she could find the keys to the craft—if it had keys—and steal it there was nowhere for her to run. For the hundredth time, she wondered where in the world they’d taken her. She gazed toward the window. Outside had grown black as pitch and looked unwelcoming.

Unobtrusively, she wondered how hard it would be to yank a gun from a holster. No doubt the second she tried she’d be shot between the eyes by the other brother. Tyler’s sightless eyes flashed into her mind, and she tried not to gag. If they shot her out here, she would be lunch for the gators. No sightless expression would last long if her face was crunched to bits and swallowed. Candy shuddered.

“Eat something, Candy. I imagine it’s been a while since you’ve had anything solid,” Dirk said.

“It has been. But I’m not very hungry.”

Occasionally, her quick glance settled onto Dirk then Damien. How was she supposed to eat past the lump forming in her throat? She was sitting at a table with assassins, surrounded by hostile wildlife. She was afraid her thoughts would take her into an even darker place. Candy tucked one of her legs up under her onto the cold wooden chair she was seated on. Her mind began to wander, and she absently twirled a fork around her plate. Thoughts of her cottage began forming to take her away.

* * * *

“How’s Carrie holding up?” Damien asked between mouthfuls of food. He scooped a generous proportion of lasagna onto his plate for a third time.

“She’s fine. Anxious, worried, it’s normal,” Dirk replied.

“She must have been happy when you told her you’d see her tomorrow,” Damien said.

Damien cast a quick glance at Candy. She was drinking the glass of juice Dirk had given her. She sipped at her coffee that was more a cup of cream and sugar; he had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t fond of the beverage. The hand holding her fork was shaking. After he and Dirk argued, Damien decided their home was the best place for her after all. The embarrassment his brother made him feel after suggesting he might have violated his own niece if he’d visited Seth’s made Damien feel like the world’s biggest slug. Carrie’s petite form and her sweet face flashed into his thoughts. Damien would kill anyone who touched her. He promised Dirk he’d never go to another slaver’s home unless the organization sent him for information. Then promised never to touch another slave again.

Damien heard Dirk’s threat of the surrounding area. Dirk needed to make certain Candy wouldn’t try and escape. He’d seen her check the area out. The swamp was more brutal than either he or his brother. If she were to understand they weren’t just hired assassins but had other lives, she might calm down a bit.

Damien almost laughed remembering his friend’s analogy of this profession when they got to know one another. His friend, Mike, needed his special kind of help. After Damien took care of the problem, Mike and he became closer. Mike told him once he thought assassins only surfaced when they had a job to do. Never realized they ate, slept, made love and even cared for other people. Mike knew better now. It never occurred to him assassins played baseball with their buddies, or football like Damien did. Mike was astounded some assassins had families and took their daughters to ballet. A deadly assassin fussing with a tutu? Mike had given his head a shake while Damien laughed.

“I think Carrie’s always a bit apprehensive when I need to be away,” Dirk said. “But this time she was worried about you. You know how much she loves her uncle.”

“Why wouldn’t she? I’m an outstanding guy,” Damien replied smugly, sitting a little taller.

“You stand out all right, with all those red blotches and bug bites, leech boy,” Dirk snorted.

Candy laughed suddenly; she had of course been listening to their conversation. Then turned bright red and quieted just as fast. She reached for the juice she’d set down and hid behind her glass, gulping noisily at its contents to obviously hide her embarrassment.

“Why aren’t you bug bit?” Damien asked her with annoyance.

While Candy slept, her upper body only clothed in her camisole, Damien studied her closer. Her creamy skin was flawless. Try as he might he could see no red angry bumps on her flesh, while he was covered in them. He was amazed; she’d run the same area as him and remained unscathed by the poison ivy, unscratched by prickly burrs.

“They’re used to my blood. Maybe they wanted to try something different,” she said shrugging her shoulders.

“Foreign food?” Damien grouched, making a face at her. “I was an all-you-can-eat buffet.” Candy chuckled again.

Dirk yawned loudly and stretched. “Damn, I’m looking forward to my own bed.”

“Dirk?” Candy asked. Her expression was pensive.

“Yes.”

Candy squirmed for a moment. “What’s going to happen to me when I get to your father’s home? Where will you put me? Are you going to lock me up somewhere?”

“There aren’t any dungeons,” Dirk said. “The house is well-guarded and the men are armed to the teeth. You’ll be allowed free roam, as long as you stay out of the rooms I tell you to avoid. My father will demand I keep a close eye on you. I will, Candy. You better believe you’ll be watched every single second. My grandchild will be arriving in a few days, or sooner. If I even thought for a moment you were a threat, I wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you coming into contact with her or my daughter Carrie.”

Candy’s eyes widened. She dropped her fork. Damien was surprised to see the heat blaze from her as she narrowed her gaze.

“I’m no assassin. You and Damien are the killers and kidnappers. You’re the one with all the threats. The baby would have more to fear from you,” she snapped in sudden outrage.

Dirk abruptly stood up, toppling his chair behind him; it clattered to the floor. He pulled her from her chair by the material of her sweatshirt and yanked her roughly to his chest. Dirk hiked her high enough she stood tiptoe before him. Her arms dangled at her sides, eyes still blazing.

“Be very careful,” he snarled down at her, his eyes narrowing.

Damien knew Candy had no idea she was treading on such a touchy, painful subject. As Dirk’s face reddened, Damien rose, ready to intervene. He gave his brother some time to control the situation; after all, Candy shouldn’t be talking back, and he was surprised she even dared. He could see the anger simmering behind bright eyes. Perhaps because neither man had hurt her, she was feeling secure. Or she was feeling trapped, she was after all, about to be taken into another equally unfamiliar environment with deadly men to deal with.

“What if I do come into contact with your daughter? What will she have to say about you kidnapping me? Does she condone what you do? Does she even know what you do?” Candy demanded.

“Carrie will do as she’s told,” Dirk said, his face grim.

Damien relaxed. He sensed Dirk reined in his temper, as his grasp on her loosened, and she settled back onto the balls of her feet. He hoped Candy was finished. She had to realize Dirk was too big for her to piss off. Before he could instruct her to sit, she foolishly began again.

“Is she a prisoner? Your
own
daughter? Carrie must be so frightened of you for herself and her child,” she said horrified. “How can you do that to your own child? It’s disgusting. What kind of hideous monster are you? I bet she hates being near you. I bet she hates you. I bet she’d like nothing more than to run as fast and as far away from you as she can.”

“
Damn you.
My daughter loves me. Carrie wants to be with me,” Dirk bellowed, obviously furious at her insinuation.

Damien groaned, he knew nothing else but the highly volatile subject of his daughter would make his big brother explode. Candy couldn’t have chosen a worse subject or more damning words. Dirk grabbed Candy’s arms and shook her. His balled fists tangled within the fabric of her clothing. Her head snapped back and forth with his intensity.

“You’ve been lucky so far, but damn you, you’ve tried my patience for the last time,” Dirk raged.

Candy grabbed at his gun but Dirk snatched her hand and squeezed. Candy screamed in terror and agony, Damien didn’t blame her. When his brother got
that
look on his face someone normally had to die. Reaching for his gun would be death. It looked as though Candy was thinking the murder victim was about to be her. She struggled and wiggled wildly backward so hard from Dirk’s grasp, her sweatshirt slipped over her head in her haste to be away from him. She yanked her hand, slipped and fled. Damien was shoved back into his chair when she collided against him in her effort to escape. She bolted in terror and almost made it to the back door when Dirk’s arms shot out and he gripped her upper arms viciously. He had her yanked so roughly against his chest she was up off her feet. Dirk had completely lost his temper. His eyes flashed with sizzling rage.

“My gun? Not fucking smart to touch
my weapon
. I should bust your fucking hand. You want out the back door? Do you? Maybe I shouldn’t expose my daughter or grandchild to you. I should open the damned door and let the gators and snakes take care of you for me. They’d rip you to pieces in minutes, long painful minutes. I told you no one would ever find your body. Or maybe I should drop you off at the compound Damien suggested where they’ll screw the shit out of you every damned day of your life. I bet he’d be more than anxious to visit often and help out with your
extensive
training. Maybe he’ll even invite a few friends to join the fun. Hell, maybe even I’ll come visit regularly. That is, if they don’t beat you to death, and allow you to live at all,” Dirk raged cruelly.

Fuck he’s lost it.

Candy was crying harder as Dirk’s fingers dug deeper into her arms with his heated words. His angered insinuations had her eyes widen in appalled horror. Damien was watching with concern. Dirk looked like he was ready to hit her. One powerful heated blow would kill the girl. Damien knew no matter how angry Dirk was, he would be disgusted with himself if he were to beat her to death.

“
Dirk, enough,
” Damien yelled sharply, ready to grab Candy away from his brother. “I know you’re pissed. She doesn’t get it or why. You need to stop.”

* * * *

Dirk looked at Damien who was now standing inches away from him. Dirk could feel his face burning with his rage. He glanced down at Candy’s terrified expression; the blood had drained from her face. Her eyes were blinking with a rapid intensity. Her breath was coming in short ragged gasps, struggling to breathe. He could tell she was trying to plead for her life, but was unable to take in enough air to breathe let alone speak. Her mouth opened and closed around words that made no sense to him, her breath but a puff of air. Her small hands were clasped on his arms. Dirk tried to calm himself, breathing deeply, trying to regain control. He loosened his agonizing hold on Candy’s arms. He felt the slickness of her blood where his fingernails had dug into her.

“Home, home, I want my home,” Candy sobbed.

“Damn it,” Dirk muttered.

* * * *

Candy whimpered up at Dirk. She felt the icy cold finger of fear slide down her spine. Her tears flowed down her face, falling from her chin like the fast current of a river. Her knees buckled when Dirk allowed her to settle back onto her feet, and she would’ve fallen if he hadn’t held her up. She felt wetness trickle from her upper arms down to her elbows before dripping to the ground; each drop resounding within her brain. Her jaw quivered. Fearfully she realized this temperamental man would be her jailer until he decided what to do with her. If he cared nothing about terrorizing and hurting her, who would he hand her over to?