Lethal Consequences (4 page)

“Things aren’t always what they seem . . .”

“Don’t worry about your little friend. I’m sure she’s fine. Or will be.”

Every muscle in his body tensed. She was a decoy. For what and why he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to get to Olivia.

Before it was too late.

O
livia’s whole body was shaking by the time she made it to the street.

She turned right out of the hotel, not knowing where she was heading, just needing to put space between her and the building. Lights shone down from above on the wide Barcelona street, and tall, old-world architecture rose to the dark sky. At this hour, close to ten p.m., there weren’t that many people out. A smattering of cars whizzed by, and dim storefront windows blurred as she moved.

She’d been so totally stupid to just show up like that, unannounced. So completely pathetic to build up this stupid romance in her head these last few months. And for what reason? Because he’d saved her life? She had a seriously messed up case of hero worship. Or was it Stockholm syndrome? She wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear. As if making up fantasies in her head wasn’t bad enough, she’d made it a hundred times worse by kissing him.

Mortification burned hot in her gut as she passed an alley between the hotel and another building. He must think her the biggest fool on the planet. He and that woman were probably getting quite a laugh about it all right this minute.

“Olivia!”

She turned before she could stop herself. Landon stood on the sidewalk in front of the hotel, scanning the area.

No.
No, no, no.
Her heart rate shot up, and her skin grew cold and clammy. She didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Her stomach jumped into her throat, and she whipped back around, walking faster to get away.

“Olivia, wait!”

She was almost to the corner. The light was red. If she hustled, she could get across before traffic picked up, and then he’d be trapped on this side.

Her pace quickened. She stepped off the sidewalk. A van screeched to a halt right in front of her, and the side door flew open.

Olivia gasped and jerked back. Two masked men, dressed all in black, jumped out of the van. Behind her, Landon screamed, “Olivia!”

Things happened so fast, she didn’t have time to react. One man slapped a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. The other grabbed her feet, jerking her body away from the sidewalk. She struggled and tried to wiggle away, but they held her too tightly. Panic spread through every inch of her body, and her muffled screams rang in her ears.

Some kind of commotion echoed behind her. She recognized the sound of fist hitting bone, of grunts and a fight. And she knew Landon’s voice. Telling them to let her go. That he’d cooperate. That they wanted him, not her. But she couldn’t focus enough to figure out what was going on.

They pulled her into the van. She kicked out and nailed the guy holding her feet in the ribs. He grunted, then released her leg with one hand and pulled his arm back. The flat of his hand connected with her jaw. Pain spiraled across her face, and she screamed.

“Stupide imbécile,”
the man behind her snapped.
“Ne pas lui faire du mal. Il nous faudra peut-être elle.”

A roar echoed near the door of the van, and then the sound of a struggle amplified, followed by Landon’s panicked voice.

“Olivia. Don’t fight. Stop struggling.”

Don’t fight?
She had to. She had to get free. Her muscles burned as she twisted and tried to break away, but they held her too tightly.

A chuckle sounded near her feet. Her body landed with a thud against the floor of the van. Before Olivia could find her balance and lash out again, a black sack was dropped over her face, blocking out all light.

“Good advice,” the man said in a thick French accent. “You should listen, mademoiselle.”

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Flashes of three months ago, when she’d been trapped in that metal box, ricocheted behind her eyes. Her pulse rate soared. Panic spread to new heights. The door to the van slammed shut. The engine revved, and the van began to move. Someone pushed her onto her stomach, and she cried out as her face hit the floor, pain spiraling across her cheek all over again.

A loud thud sounded through the van, coming from somewhere near her feet. She couldn’t see what was happening, was too focused on her own pain to pay close attention, but she heard the heavy breaths of a struggle, followed by a grunt.

“If you hurt her again,” Landon growled in a menacing tone, one she’d never heard from him before, “I swear to God I’ll snap your neck so fast you’ll never see me coming.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” another man asked in that same thick French accent. “When you aren’t even able to move?”

Olivia’s hands were wrenched behind her and tied together with something plastic. A sharp stab pricked the skin of her inner arm. She winced. The van made a right turn, then a left. And though it went against every instinct she had, she stopped struggling and tried to focus on which direction they were heading.

“That’s it. Good girl. See? You are nice to us, we are nice to you.”

Another grunt echoed from the back of the van. Another thwack of fist hitting bone. Even though she couldn’t see, Olivia closed her eyes tight and tried to block out the sounds so she couldn’t imagine what was happening to Landon. Hot tears burned her eyelids, but she held them back, breathing deeply through her nose to keep from losing it.

Her limbs grew heavy, her head light. A
clack, clack, clack
echoed through the van, as if they were going over something bumpy, and she realized the pain in her arm had to have been from a needle. They’d given her some kind of drug. The edges of her consciousness were already darkening.

A fresh surge of fear rushed through her, but her body didn’t have time to react. Sound dimmed. She couldn’t hear Landon anymore, didn’t know where he was or what they were doing to him, but she knew one thing for certain.

She’d survived being taken once before. She could survive this too. She might not know what these people wanted or why they’d grabbed her, but staying alive was the only play she had. And she wasn’t about to give up without a fight, no matter what Landon told her to do.

Marley Addison reached for her cell phone and frowned down at the empty screen. Miller hadn’t responded to her last three texts, which she’d sent over five hours ago, and that wasn’t normal for him.

She set her phone down and looked back at the computer screen, trying not to let paranoia get the best of her. Something in her gut screamed things weren’t right, though. Miller always responded or called back right away. The guy was anal about checking in so Ryder didn’t send someone to track him down.

She chewed on her lip and flipped screens. The GPS in Miller’s phone showed he was still at his hotel. Probably sound asleep. Barcelona was six hours ahead of Louisville, Kentucky. It was well after midnight there, and he’d just come off a three-week op. His very last for Aegis.

“It’s seven thirty, Marley.” Jake Ryder strolled into her office and reached for the report she’d drawn up earlier from the corner of her desk, the one detailing the activities of each of his operatives currently on assignment across the globe. “If you don’t head home soon, I’m going to think you don’t have a life.”

Marley bit her tongue as she peered over her glasses toward her boss. In typical Jake fashion, his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, he’d tugged off his tie hours ago, and his thick, dark hair was tousled, as if he’d run his fingers through it numerous times, which, knowing him, he probably had.

A frown tugged at her mouth as she switched screens again, pulling up a satellite picture of Landon’s hotel. She didn’t have a life. She was in the office from sunup to sundown. And he was only just now figuring that out? She’d worked here for three freakin’ years.

“Have you heard from Miller?” she asked, working for calm when sometimes she just wanted to smack Jake upside the head and say, “
Seriousl
y
?”

Jake flipped through pages in her daily report, not bothering to look at her. Another MO for Jake. It was all business to him. Even her. “Was I supposed to?”

“No.” A tiny part of her felt stupid for being so worried. But Jake paid her well
because
she stayed on top of all parts of an op, even when it was over, and she’d learned long ago not to discount a feeling about any one of “her” guys. “He’s not responding to my messages or phone calls.”

Jake turned to the back of her report. “He’s done with us, Marley. By now he’s probably sleeping. Or maybe he hooked up with a woman to celebrate.”
His dark eyes flicked to hers. “Just because he went offline doesn’t mean anything.”

Marley’s heart did that stupid little flutter thing it’d been doing the past few months whenever Jake looked right at her, which only ticked her off more. She was not interested in Jake Ryder. He was too controlling and way too domineering and, even on a good day, aggravating as hell. What she needed was an agreeable and pleasant man in her life, one she could unwind with after a long-ass day, like today. Not someone she wanted to slap upside the head every fifteen minutes.

“Normally, an operative not responding to my messages after completing an op wouldn’t concern me, but this is Miller. He is in no way normal by any definition.” And though Jake might have his head stuck in the sand where his guys’ personal lives were concerned, Marley didn’t. The only woman Landon Miller was interested in was thousands of miles away, probably kicked back on the couch in her small ranch-style house, watching reruns of
Scandal
, which was exactly where Marley wanted to be.

Jake lowered the report, tipped his head, and narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying?”

What was she saying? “Nothing. Yet,” she added. “But if he doesn’t make that flight in the morning, I’m going to have plenty to say.”

Jake frowned and headed for his open office door. “I’m sure you will. Miller’s fine. Go home and forget about work for a few hours. The world isn’t going to fall apart without you.”

Marley tapped her toe against the floor as she watched Jake go, more irritated by his blasé attitude than she liked. No, Ryder’s world might not fall apart if she ignored this feeling, but Landon Miller’s was another matter entirely.

The cold slap of water against his face jerked Landon awake.

He gasped, shook his head, and tried to move, only to realize he was hanging by his arms. A dull throb echoed through his skull, but it didn’t even begin to compare to the ache spreading through his shoulders and limbs as he blinked several times against the blinding light.

“It’s nice to see you’re finally awake,” a heavily accented male voice said somewhere to his right. “I was beginning to think my associates gave you too much happy juice.”

Landon scanned the room through hazy vision. The edges were dark. No windows. No natural light. The only illumination came from a naked bulb hanging from the center of the room over a metal table and single chair. Ductwork ran along the ceiling, and one look up confirmed his hands were cuffed to a chain slung over a four-inch pipe, his feet dangling a foot from the floor. They had to be in a basement or warehouse of some kind, but since they’d drugged him, he didn’t know where. And common sense told him odds were good they weren’t still in Barcelona.