Hold Me (23 page)

Katie and Némes searched for about an hour with no sign of Luc. Between the main gaming floor and all of the smaller side rooms and alcoves that fed off it, there were too many people, too many lights, too many nooks and crannies where a person could hide. Discrete questioning of the casino employees turned up no leads. Katie was beginning to see why Némes had tried to discourage her from coming here.

“Are we wasting our time?” she asked finally. Némes didn’t answer as they weaved through the throngs of people.

“Let’s check the showrooms,” he said instead.

“He could be anywhere. Be anyone.”

“Where’s my little Amazon?”

“Back in the car with Spot.”

“Don’t tell me you’re giving up so soon.” Némes stopped and turned to face her, his well-formed mouth drawn up in a sneer. “I thought you said you loved him.”

“I do love him.” She said it quietly because she sensed an undercurrent in his voice that she didn’t quite understand. “I’m not giving up.”

Némes looked over her head and froze. His hands gripped her shoulders, fingers digging into her muscles.

“Hey!” Katie squeaked and tried to wriggle free. “You’re hurting me.”

“Shut up.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her after him. She followed because she didn’t have a choice.

“What’s going on?” she demanded, although it was a little hard to talk and wheeze for breath at the same time.

“Frankie Silvano,” he said shortly. “Back by the elevators.”

“Oh.” Katie discovered she could move faster after all. “Did he see me?”

Némes turned to stare down at her. “Why do you care if he sees you?”

“Well, hello! He’s trying to kill me. It would probably be good if he didn’t know I was here.”

“Frankie Silvano?” Némes sputtered and he swung her forcibly into an alcove. “Frankie fucking Silvano is the person you’re hiding from?”

“Yes.” She studied him in the dim light. “Luc didn’t tell you that either?”

“Fuck no! Do you think I would have fucking let you come to the fucking Silvano family’s fucking casino if anyone had told me that Frankie fucking Silvano was trying to kill you?”

“Keep your voice down.” Katie shoved at him. “He’ll see us. If you didn’t know he was after me, why are we running?”

Némes was breathing hard and his face had turned a dull red. It couldn’t be good for him. “Because Frankie Silvano is a sociopathic whack-job, and I thought it would be a good idea to stay out of his way, that’s why!”

“Oh.”

Némes cursed, took her arm again and dragged her to a dark hallway. He pressed her into a corner.

“I think he’s working with Liza,” Katie offered, trying to see around him.

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking about it, and it’s the only thing that makes sense. If Liza’s the one who told the Silvano family that Luc was working undercover on their estate, then she’s probably the one who told Frankie I was hiding out at Luc’s house. So they’re working together. That must be why she came down here today. She knew Frankie would be here.”

“Oh my fucking God.” Némes ran a hand through his hair. “I’m going to kill Vasco the next time I see him. I am going to fucking kill him.”

“If you don’t shut up, you’re not going to get the chance.” Katie elbowed Némes until he gave her a little space and she could look out onto the gaming floor. There was a bank of elevators across the room. Frankie Silvano stood in front of them, looking worse for wear and even more dangerous because of it. He had turned and seemed to be staring over at them, as if he was trying to see them.

Even though she knew they were protected by the relative darkness of the hallway, she shrank back.

“Why is he staring at us?” Katie whispered.

“Well, if he’s trying to kill you, maybe he recognized you,” Némes said dryly.

“Maybe,” she admitted, but it didn’t seem right. If he’d recognized her, he wouldn’t still be standing at the elevators.

“You,” she said suddenly, looking up at Némes. “He recognized you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“No, listen. Frankie saw me for what, five seconds? And I had my back to him. With this wig, there’s no way he could have known who I was. He must know you.”

“He doesn’t. I never went anywhere near the Silvano’s when I was with the Bureau. I only know what he looks like from mug shots.”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Shit.” He looked around. “Okay, maybe you’re right. Jesus Christ, I am so going to kill Vasco for getting me into this.” Grabbing her hand again, he pulled her further back into the labyrinth of service corridors that fed the casino’s maze of showrooms and restaurants.

And Katie worried about Luc. And her mother.

Frankie Silvano had been standing near the elevators, waiting impatiently for Liza to show. Since she’d only just gotten out of the shower when he’d gone to her room, he’d known it could take a while. So he’d been waiting for her on the main casino floor, muttering and pacing with restless energy, absently cataloging the faces, people. Then he’d focused on one guy, tall in the shadows, talking to a short, dark-haired woman, and everything inside him had gone still.

Justin Némes. Former FBI agent. The guy Carlos hated. What the fuck?

Frankie had known he’d been made because Némes had grabbed the arm of the woman he’d been with and hustled her away. Which had been pretty damned interesting. The guy’d had no good reason to run.

Sure, Frankie had followed the former Feeb around for a while a year or two ago. Carlos had asked him to set Némes up as part of some kind of a revenge deal. He’d rather have just killed him, but Carlos had insisted so he’d had to settle for getting him kicked out of the Bureau instead. He’d even gotten Liza to fuck him, used her to add a final layer of suspicion.

But Némes didn’t know they’d even seen each other before. Frankie had been practically fucking invisible.

Pondering that, he’d turned his attention to the woman Némes was propelling through the crowd. She was short, wore glasses and there was something off about her hair. Something not quite right. Well, something other than the fact that it was cut like a freaking Egyptian princess. It looked almost lopsided. She tugged at it, and he thought it shifted.

Was she wearing a wig?

While he’d watched, Némes pulled her into an alcove, then, a few minutes later, into one of the dark service corridors.

A wig. Frankie had contemplated that for a moment.

Then the most ludicrous, most improbable thought slammed into him.

Her.

The woman. Katie McCabe. Here in the casino. No. Couldn’t be. But…

Short. Glasses. Wig. With Némes. Némes who’d been partnered off and on with Vasco for years. Vasco, who’d gotten away from him—twice—with the help of a woman.

This woman.

It had to be her.

As realization struck, Frankie cursed violently and started to follow them.

Just then the elevator door behind him opened and Liza stepped out. She took one look at him and raised her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

She could help him, he thought. She knew what Némes looked like, so she’d be able to help track him, find him. And the woman.

Katie McCabe.

“Némes is in the casino,” he told her shortly, grabbing her arm.

Liza looked at his hand with surprise. “Justin? So? I thought we were going to talk to some woman you’re holding in the basement.”

“He’s not here alone. He’s with the bitch.”

Liza let him drag her a few steps before she dug in her heels and pulled them both to a stop. He practically howled with impatience and rage.

“The bitch? What bitch? What the hell are you talking about?”

“The bitch who humiliated me.”

“I repeat. So?”

Frankie dragged in a deep breath, then another. He reminded himself that Liza was useful to him, that he trusted her, needed her. And he knew exactly which buttons to push to make her do what he wanted her to do.

He smiled up into her mocking brown eyes. “The woman is also the whore who’s been shacking up with Vasco, Liza baby,” he purred. “The slut he’s been fucking for the last couple of days. The one he’s protecting. He’s probably told her all about you. Would have made an amusing story.”

Liza’s eyes darkened, chilled. Her pretty face went hard and sharp. “Luc? She’s the woman Luc’s been hiding at his house?”

“The same,” Frankie said, still smiling.

Yeah, he knew her. Knew all of her obsessions and desires. Knew exactly how she felt about Vasco. Still felt about him, even after all of these months, even after he’d dumped her. Maybe because he’d dumped her. He knew her better than she knew herself.

Liza was staring blankly down at him.

“I want her,” he said. “She’s mine.”

Slowly, Liza nodded. “Yes,” she agreed, her voice like ice. “She’s yours.”

“We’ll split up,” Frankie ordered, quickly now. “They’re somewhere in the service corridors. Maybe they’ll try to get to one of the emergency exits or duck into a showroom. Send word if you catch anyone.”

Liza nodded again and strode off on her long, long legs. One of the guys who’d been hovering on the outskirts of the room followed her. Frankie jerked his head at the remaining men and went to the right, toward the hallway where Némes and the woman had disappeared.

The bitch was his. He could almost taste it.

In the end, Luc had done something he’d sworn he’d never do.

He’d run.

He’d been dancing, actually getting into it a little bit, until he couldn’t delay stripping off his pants any longer. He’d ripped them away, the velcro fastenings giving easily on the breakaway pants, and stood before God and man clad only in black jockeys. If he’d ever been more embarrassed in his life, he couldn’t remember it.

Actually, the jockey shorts were a step up from what Carter had wanted him to wear, but the man had relented after Luc had practically stuffed the black sequined thong down his throat.

When he’d ripped off his pants, the women had gone even more ballistic, which was kind of gratifying. But then, as he’d stared out into the screaming faces, watched the waving money, heard the pounding rhythm of the music, he’d…frozen. He hadn’t been able to move, couldn’t even wiggle a little bit. He’d just stood there in black jockeys while hundreds of women looked at him. Then he’d thought “the hell with this,” turned, and walked off the stage.

Back in the dancer’s dressing room, he quickly shrugged into his real non-breakaway pants, a T-shirt and his running shoes. He was checking his gun when John Carter, the bastard, burst into the room. His light brown hair stood out from his head in tufts, as if he’d been pulling at it. He was wearing a tuxedo because he acted as the host of the ‘show,’ but his bowtie was undone and the cummerbund askew. He looked like he’d been mugged.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Carter barked. “Get the fuck back out there! Jesus, can’t you hear them yelling?”

Luc holstered his gun, stepped forward and smashed his fist into the other man’s face. It hurt like hell, but watching the shithead go down on his ass was so worth it.

Carter sat up, shaking his head, his hair hanging in his eyes. “What the hell was that for?”

“That was for actually making me strip, you asshole.”

“Sorry. But Vasco, listen to those women!”

“Go to hell, Carter. And if this was because of Susan? You got your payback.”

“Luc, please. I’m begging you. Just swivel those hips for five more minutes—”

“I told you to go to hell. Or better yet, go out there yourself. Wear the damned thong.”

Luc dodged when Carter tried to grab his ankle and headed for the exit.

“Bastard,” Carter spat, lurching to his feet.

Luc nodded. “Back at you.” He opened the door, scanned the corridor, then turned. “Thanks for the cover.”

Carter was still cursing him when he slipped out into the service hallway.

Luc moved quickly, anxious to continue his search for Mrs. McCabe or whoever the hell Frankie Silvano had captured at Katie’s apartment. And, he had to admit, just as anxious to get away from the screaming, cheering, chanting women.

He edged toward the main gambling area, moving quickly and quietly while he tried to come up with a plan of action. Frankie could have stashed a person anywhere. He should probably check out Joey’s penthouse and Frankie’s office first, but getting into either place was going to be a bitch. There were way too many people who knew what he looked like, and both Silvanos were well guarded.

He was frowning over the problem when he took a turn and saw two people ahead of him, a man and a woman. They were arguing. He stopped, faded back into the shadows, and waited for them to move on.

Then the man turned his head, and Luc saw his face clearly in the dim light. All of the breath left his body, like he’d been punched in the gut.

Némes. Justin Némes. Here. And that meant…

Luc looked at the woman, took in the fact that her hair was dark and shaped like a pyramid. She was short. She was gracefully rounded. Her hands moved when she tried to make a point. He knew she’d be beautifully freckled and that her real hair was wild and free and auburn.

And he was going to kill her. He was going to fucking kill them both.

Pushing away from the wall, he stalked over to them.

Katie wanted to punch Justin Némes right in his cold, handsome face. If she could have reached it, she would have.

“No,” she said for the thousandth time. “No, I am not going back to the car.” She tried to keep her voice down, but it was difficult.

“If you think I’m…” Némes trailed off, looked over her head. “Oh, fuck me,” he muttered.

“What in the HELL are you doing here?”

The voice was deep, familiar, and very, very pissed.

Katie whirled around. “Luc?”

He was standing about two feet away, a little sweaty, a lot angry, and looking absolutely wonderful. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, except from the way he was glaring at her, she thought he’d sidestep her and she’d end up on her butt.

“I’ll just go see what I can see,” Némes said and slipped away. Coward.

“What the hell.” Luc’s entire attention was focused on Katie. He kept his voice low, but it rolled over her with the force of his anger. “What the hell. Do you want to explain yourself?”

“Listen, Luc—”

“Be quiet! Why don’t you tell me why in the hell you are here in Atlantic City when I specifically told you not to come?”

“I’m here to help you, you jerk. What do you think I’m doing?”

“Shit, shit, shit.” Luc ran his hands through his hair and tugged hard as he paced in a tight circle.

“Oh, well put. You can’t keep me out of this, Vasco. I want to help you, and I’m going to. First of all, Liza is the leak you’ve been looking for.”

“Liza?” He sounded astonished and stopped pacing to stare at her as his arms fell to his sides.

“Yeah.” Katie tried to keep the satisfaction out of her voice, but she felt vindicated by his reaction. “Liza is the leak, and she’s here in the casino now.”

Luc’s face grew tighter. “Are you telling me you figured out Liza was involved and she was here, and you came here anyway? Are you completely insane?”

“Hey!” Now her anger rose to match his. “If I hadn’t come here, you wouldn’t know. You’d be a sitting duck.”

“Katie, I’m HIDING! Liza doesn’t know I’m here.” He was pacing again, back and forth in front of her. “I can’t believe I trusted Némes, and I can’t believe that I trusted you. I should have known better.”

The hurt in his voice calmed her as nothing else could.

“I couldn’t sit back in the hotel, Luc.” Katie reached out for him. She caught his arm, felt the warm skin and the rigid muscles beneath it as she pulled him to a halt. “I had to do what I thought was right.”

Luc stared down at her, obviously struggling for control before he spoke. “I understand that, and I respect it, but you didn’t think, Katie. You didn’t think about what your showing up here might do to your mother.”

“My mother?” She was stung by the accusation. “Of course I thought about her. I’m going to help you find her.”

“Katie,” Luc grasped her shoulders and shook her slightly, but his touch was more or less gentle. “Think, okay? If they find out you’re here, what reason do they have to keep your mother alive? They were using her to get to you, remember?”

Katie stared at him as his words penetrated. As she understood what they meant. And she knew that Frankie Silvano had seen them. If he’d figured out who she was…

Her mother.

Her heart really did stop beating this time.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered with dawning horror.

“Katie…” Luc hesitated, then grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

“Némes—”

“Will find us.”

He tugged her after him. Eventually they ended up back at the main gaming floor. It seemed like it was a different part of the room from where she and Némes had exited, but she couldn’t be sure.

Abruptly Luc pressed her up against a wall, shielding her with his body. “Frankie Silvano,” he whispered.

Katie looked around his shoulder, through the maze of slot machines. Frankie was leaning on a cane near the cashier’s booth looking both angry and annoyed. He was talking to some other men, ranting, gesturing wildly.

“I don’t think he’s seen us,” Luc said.

“He saw us before.” Katie was having a hard time thinking. Her mind was numb. “At least I…I think so. I think he might have seen Némes.”

“Are you telling me Frankie Silvano might already know you’re here?”

“I…he might.”

“Christ.” Luc growled. “I can’t believe this.”

“I’m sorry,” she choked, the tears very near the surface now. She forced them back ruthlessly, knowing she didn’t have time to fall apart.

Luc looked down at her with something other than anger in his beautiful dark eyes. It might have been tenderness. It might have been pity.

He caressed her cheek with long, gentle fingers. “Katie,” he whispered.

“I’m so sorry, Luc. I do trust you. I do. And I didn’t mean to let you down. I just wanted to warn you. To help you. I couldn’t stand back and watch you die or get hurt without trying to do something. I just wanted to be with you, but I didn’t think. I never do. I’m so stupid.”

“Hey.” He tapped his forefinger against her lips. “Stop that.”

“I’m such an idiot. I’m such a stupid, fucking idiot.”

“Katie.” He paused, then leaned down and kissed her softly on her mouth. “Come on, Hornet. We need to get you out of here. There’s an employee exit nearby. No alarms.”

“Frankie—?”

“We’ll be careful. He won’t see us.”

Not giving her the chance to argue, he took her hand. He pulled her across the casino floor, sticking close to the wall where the darkness was deeper. His free hand was under his shirt, probably holding a weapon he had tucked in his waistband. Or else he was injured and hadn’t bothered to tell her. But he didn’t seem to be in pain. He was urging her along at a pace that was brisk without obviously rushing, expertly maneuvering her through the crowd.

Then he pulled her around a corner in the thick forest of slot machines, cut it a little too close, and ran smack into an old woman. She bounced off his chest like a shriveled rubber ball and dropped her bucket of quarters with a resounding crash. The coins rolled and skittered across the floor while she cursed Luc with the fluency of a sailor.

Until she saw the gun in his hand. Katie figured he’d probably drawn it reflexively, without conscious thought. Maybe he didn’t even know he’d done it. The old lady stared at it, stared at them.

And screamed.

She sure had a set of lungs on her. Her screech had the piercing quality of a smoke alarm. It sliced through the dense noise of the casino, attracting the attention of everyone within a hundred feet. Beside Katie, Luc did some creative cursing of his own.

Katie turned, had a clear view of Frankie Silvano still standing next to the cashier’s booth. She saw the astonishment, the recognition flash across his face, saw him shout and point. Saw men running in their direction.

“Come on!” Luc shouted. He yanked Katie’s hand and they sprinted through the web of tables and machines. He pushed people out of the way or simply mowed them down, dragging her after him. Katie could hear the men behind them. Luc still had his gun up and ready, but she knew he wouldn’t use it and take the chance that he’d hit an innocent bystander. She hoped Frankie and his men had the same opinion.

They rounded another corner, and someone grabbed Luc’s shoulder. He lashed out. Katie heard a thick thud when his fist connected.

“Shit,” a familiar voice said. Justin Némes stepped forward, rubbing the side of his face, his own gun dangling at his side. “Christ, Vasco. I’ve been trying to catch up to you two.”

“Yeah?” Luc punched him again and the other man staggered. “That’s for bringing her down here.”

“Hey, if I’d known what the hell was going on, maybe I wouldn’t have. But you didn’t tell me, did you?”

“Uh, boys?” Katie could hear the sound of running footsteps getting closer. “We don’t have time for this.”

The men glared at each other.

“We’re going to have to split up,” Luc said.

Katie gripped his hand tighter. “I don’t—”

“It’s our only chance. They’ll follow me. You get her out of here.” Luc’s face was fierce as he looked at Némes. “I’m trusting you again.”

“Got it.”

The sounds of the pursuit were very near now.

Luc freed himself and flicked a finger down Katie’s cheek. “Be careful.” He slid away. Then she heard shouts and knew the men were chasing him.

“Come on.” Némes grabbed her arm and before she knew what was happening, Katie found herself dragged off in the opposite direction. He towed her into a narrow hallway with a door at the far end. She thought it was probably either the employee exit Luc had mentioned or a fire exit. It didn’t matter. The end result was that she was leaving Luc.

They were leaving him. Alone.

Then somebody grabbed Katie’s free arm from behind. Her shoulder wrenched in its socket when Némes, unaware, kept running, pulling her. She screamed in pain. At the sound Némes whipped around, eyes widening as he looked past her.

“What the fuck?”

He started to lift his gun, but a man holding something that looked like a board stepped out from the shadows and slammed it across the back of his head. There was a loud cracking noise. Némes went down in a heap on the floor.

Katie fought the hold on her arm, struggling to pull away. A tall, blonde woman with dark brown eyes and a thin face stepped around her, tightening her grip so that her long red nails pierced the skin.

In one smooth motion, she held up a small gun and pointed it at Katie’s forehead. “Just give me a reason,” she whispered.

Katie stopped moving. The man who’d hit Némes ripped her purse away from her. She grabbed for it, but he jumped back out of reach.

Panting, Katie studied the woman who held her. “You must be Liza,” she guessed.

“And you’re the bitch. The one with Luc,” Liza said. She stared down at Katie, then used two fingers of the hand holding the gun to yank off the black wig. Katie couldn’t control her gasp of pain when it pulled and ripped at her hair. Liza continued to stare.

“He’s with you?” she asked, incredulous. “He could have me and he’s with you?”

Well, now Katie might be upset and terrified, but she really couldn’t let that one go. “I guess I’m better in bed,” she said.

For a moment, unexpected pain flashed in Liza’s exotic dark eyes. Her body went rigid.