Take Me Deeper (24 page)

Zane ignored that. “Doesn't matter. Even the general area will narrow down a search on the plates. So where are they?”

Rush gave him the details, a featureless suburb that contained mostly business parks and storage units, then Rose adjusted her search.

Zane tried to ignore the desperation curling tight as a fist in his chest. This could be wrong. Rush might have been given bad intel, the car could have been swapped. They could be searching for Iris in completely the wrong place. God, what if they'd taken her to the airport? What if she was even now being taken out of state?

No, shit, all this flailing around wasn't like him. One thing at a time, that's how he usually dealt with a problem. No point trying to second-guess variables that he might not have to.

He could feel someone watching him, which didn't help either. The last thing he wanted was someone else to notice he was having problems locking it down, especially—God forbid—one of the Duchess team.

Something popped up on Rose's screen. Another grainy security camera image of an empty parking lot outside a featureless building. There was a car parked outside. A familiar car.

“Holy shit,” Rose said. “There they are.”

Someone said his name, but Zane had already turned from the computer and was heading for the door.

“Zane. Wait.” It was Quinn.

But Zane ignored him, reaching for the door, flinging it open, and stepping through.

Nothing was going to stop him from getting Iris.

Nothing.

Iris came to, feeling like absolute shit. She was sitting in a chair, her arms behind her back and her wrists tied together with what felt like plastic ties. The same ties were around her ankles, lashing them to the legs of the chair.

Her head throbbed unmercifully.

When she'd gotten into the car outside the hotel, the guy who'd taken her hostage had suddenly leaned over and hit her over the head with something hard—probably the butt of his gun—and she'd gone out like a light.

She had no idea why, since it hadn't been like she was escaping or anything. Then again, perhaps it had been so she wouldn't see where they were going. Not that she was going to be alive long enough to tell anyone in all probability.

She blinked, trying to pull herself together and figure out where she was.

Looked like some kind of small warehouse, with a concrete floor, an iron roof, and lots of big metal shelves, some empty, some stacked high with boxes. There was no one else in her immediate vicinity, though she could hear male voices down one end of the warehouse, whoever they were hidden by the shelves.

Fear pulsed inside her, slow and steady as a giant heartbeat, and she had to force herself to take some deep breaths to keep the panic at bay. Because that definitely wasn't going to help.

So…the pros of the situation were that she wasn't dead. Which meant they wanted something. The guy who'd taken her had said that Shaw wanted to talk to her and that was a pretty massive con, since he probably wanted to know if she'd told the police anything. He'd get that information out of her one way or another and then, well, they wouldn't need her anymore, and she was more useful to them dead than she was alive.

Oh yes, and not forgetting the other
huge
con: the threat of armed men outside Jamie's school.

The panic rose, a thick choking wave of it, rising up in her throat, threatening to cut off her airway.

Deep breaths. Just take some fucking deep breaths.

Yeah, well, all the deep breathing she was doing was only making her dizzy, so that wasn't going to work. Luckily what she did have was the throbbing in her head, so she concentrated on that instead. Pain proved to be an excellent distraction from her panic and soon her heartbeat had slowed a little.

Okay, she had to think this through. They wouldn't kill her until she told them what they wanted, and if that was whether she'd talked to the police or not, she could tell them pretty quickly that she hadn't. It was more than likely they wouldn't believe her, in which case they might try other tactics.

The panic twisted again, her gut churning. She felt sick, because she knew what those tactics were. Torture she could probably handle. But if they used her sister? Not so much.

You're stupid, Callahan. You thought you were going to be better than Mom for her.

Iris fought down the snide voice. Okay, so she'd made a monumentally stupid decision in trusting Dylan. But at least she'd never walked away from Jamie. Not like their mother had walked away from them. At least she was still here, still fighting for her. That had to count for something, didn't it?

“Sounds to me like you pretty much raised your sister on your own. And the fact that both of you are alive and well, given that, is pretty goddamn amazing
.
”

Zane's voice echoed in her head, a reminder. And another feeling shifted inside her, a stronger feeling. More intense than even her panic.

The feeling moved outward, filling up the spaces that the panic hadn't reached like water in a jar full of pebbles, surrounding her, making her feel strong. Determined.

Yes. She
had
raised her little sister all by herself. And that
was
pretty goddamn amazing. Jamie was happy and healthy and most important of all, she knew she was loved. That was more than Iris had ever gotten from her own mother.

Besides, if she hadn't trusted Dylan, if she hadn't run those packages for him, she'd never have met Zane, and she was so very, very glad she had. They hadn't been together very long, it was true, but in that time, she'd learned what it felt like to have someone protect her, care about her. She'd learned what it felt like to belong to someone. To trust someone.

Even if the cartel hurt her, even if they killed her, they could never take that from her. She could never regret the decision she'd made that had brought her to him.

Not in a million years.

“You're awake?” The voice was male and horribly familiar.

Iris snapped her head up in time to see a man come around one of the metal shelves. He was of medium height, with dark hair and a kind of bland handsomeness she'd once found moderately attractive. He wore a rumpled-looking suit and was smiling at her as if this were a bar and he was coming over to chat her up.

Shaw. Dylan's contact.

She said nothing, watching him as he approached, a couple of thugs trailing at his heels.

“Iris,” Shaw said. “Long time no see. You've caused us quite a bit of worry, did you know that?”

She had two choices. Tell Shaw everything now and pray he took mercy on her and let her go, or stall him as much as she could in the hope that Zane was on his way to find her.

Letting out a silent breath, Iris leaned back in her chair as if she were at home on the couch in the trailer park. “Sorry.” Her voice, thank God, was steady, not a trace of fear in it. “It was either leave town or testify. I thought you'd prefer it if I left town.”

Shaw grinned. It wasn't friendly. “Perhaps a better tactic would have been to not get arrested in the first place.”

She could feel heat creeping into her cheeks. “I don't know what happened. Dylan must have—”

“That's kind of not my problem, sweetheart, you know that. It's one of the risks you take when you work for us.”

With a conscious effort, Iris relaxed her muscles, trying to make herself less tense. “So why am I here? I guess it's not because I did such a great job, you can't bear to let me go.”

Shaw wandered over to where she sat and stood in front of her chair, folding his arms. The look in his brown eyes made her uncomfortable because she knew what it meant. He wanted something from her and she didn't need to be a genius to figure out what that was.

“No,” he said after a moment. “There are plenty of people more hungry and desperate than you who can do drop-offs for us. We don't need you.”

“Then why? Obviously you don't want me to testify, so why keep me alive?” Perhaps getting in his face was stupid. Then again, she had nothing to lose, and if there was one thing she did know about Shaw, it was that he did like to talk. Especially about himself.

“A couple of reasons. First, my orders are to see if you told the police anything. And second…” His smile was white. “Well, second is to make sure you stay quiet. Permanently.”

Iris kept her face blank. This wasn't news. She knew the cartel wanted her silenced. But there was something that Shaw wasn't telling her, she could see it in the slightly smug cast of his smile. “That's obvious,” she said, like she didn't give a shit. “So what are you waiting for?”

He cocked his head, looking down at her, his gaze traveling down her body before rising to her face again. It was a blatantly appreciative look that made her feel vaguely dirty.

You're Zane's. Not anyone else's. He chose you.

That feeling again, warm and strong inside her. Comforting. Reassuring.

“Smart cookie, aren't you?” Shaw shifted closer to her. “As it happens, I want to know about the guy who took you. The bounty hunter. Zane Redmond.”

A small shock traveled through her at the sound of Zane's name, her mind momentarily blanking. She hadn't expected the question, though in retrospect, she should have, and now she had no idea what to say. “W-why do you want to know that?”

Shaw's gaze flickered and she knew he'd caught the slight stutter. And that it had pleased him. “You're not the one asking the questions, sweetheart,” he said almost gently. “I am. Tell me about Redmond.”

No, she wouldn't panic. This was good, another way for her to stall him. She wouldn't be escaping any time soon sadly, not given how she was tied, but Zane would be coming for her. All she had to do was keep Shaw talking until that happened.

“I like your determination…”

Zane's voice in her head, not cold in the slightest, but hot, his arms around her so strong. Okay, time to show Shaw exactly how much determination she had.

Iris lifted her chin. “You leave my sister out of this and I'll tell you everything you want to know.”

Shaw laughed. “I don't think you're in any position to make any deals.”

“Maybe not.” She paused, letting him see the ferocity in her eyes. “Or maybe you don't want any heat with the police should they pick up an armed man going into a schoolyard.”

He stared at her silently for a beat. “Well, I guess we can afford a gesture of good faith.” Taking out his phone, he hit a button and, without taking his eyes off Iris, said, “Leave the girl. We've got what we need right here.” Then he disconnected the call. “There. It's done.”

“I want proof,” she demanded. Probably another stupid thing to do, but what the hell. She had nothing to lose.

“Too fucking bad,” Shaw snapped. “You'll just have to take my word for it.”

She didn't want to take his word, but he clearly wasn't going to give her anything more. That would have to be enough.

“Zane picked me up after one of your douchebags tried to kill me at the bar a couple of days ago,” she said.

“Clive,” Shaw muttered. “Not one of our best. So what happened? Where did Redmond take you?”

There wasn't any reason to lie, so she didn't. “He took me back to the Lone Star Bounty office. Like he would with any bail-skipper, I assume.”

Something gleamed in Shaw's eyes. “What's with the five-star hotel? Or does he do that with every bail-skipper?”

Again came the creep of heat in her cheeks. But she didn't look away. “No, of course not.”

The gleam in his eyes intensified. “So what was the deal? A blow job for a couple of nights in luxury? Sex in return for not turning you in?”

She decided not to deny it. What she and Zane had shared wasn't any of his business and was so far from what he assumed, there wouldn't be any point anyway. “Something like that.” She lifted a shoulder. “A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.”

He laughed softly. “Sure, sweetheart. The Lone Star brothers stick together though, that's a well-known fact. You give them a party too?”

She didn't bother getting offended since that wouldn't help matters. Besides, she didn't give a shit what he thought about her. Instead, she studied him, trying to figure out what response would buy her the most time. Might be a good plan to make it look like Zane was on his own, then if—
when
—he came for her, they'd think he was acting alone.

But what if he is? What if he doesn't tell Quinn what's going on?

He was so angry at his family, she knew, she'd seen it in his eyes as he'd told her about his dad. So there was a chance he wouldn't. A chance he'd want to solve this one on his own.

God, she hoped he wouldn't. Hoped that somehow what she'd told him about his father's drinking not being his fault would have gotten through to him, lessened the anger and bitterness she knew he was carrying around with him.

Made him see that he didn't have to do this alone.

“No,” she said at last, lying through her teeth. “They weren't into it. In fact, they were pretty pissed that Zane was.”

Interest flickered in Shaw's gaze. “What? So he took you to the hotel so he could have you all to himself?”

“Partly. His brothers didn't want me at Lone Star.”

“Because they knew we'd be coming for you?”

“Yeah.” She made a show of slumping her shoulders and looking defeated. “I told him he could do what he wanted with me as long as he protected me and then, once the danger had passed, let me go.” Fixing her gaze on the floor, she added, “Guess that was a mistake.”

Shaw said nothing, and when she glanced up again, she saw he'd taken a couple of steps away, was holding his phone again and in the process of calling someone. He didn't look in her direction as he began speaking and she couldn't quite hear what he was talking about, but she caught the sound of Zane's name.

What the hell was that about? Were the Redmond brothers wanted by the cartel? Or just Zane in particular? And if so, why?

She kept very still, trying to listen in, to catch anything that might be of use, but he'd moved a few more steps away and she heard nothing.

A chill curled up suddenly inside her.

Shaw hadn't cared what she'd told the police. No, he'd only looked interested once she'd mentioned Zane. That, coupled with the long, uncomfortable survey he'd given her body, had made her suspect he wanted from her what she'd given Zane, but now…Now she wasn't so certain.

He wouldn't need to make a call just so he could screw her.

Which meant that he wanted her for something else.

Maybe that something else was Zane.

Zane pulled open the door of his borrowed truck, only to have a large hand descend on his shoulder, jerking him back. He spun around, raising his fist in preparation to let it fly on the first asshole who dared to stop him from getting to Iris.

It was Rush, who ducked the punch. “Stop, you fucking tool,” his brother said breathlessly, still holding onto him. “This is something I would do, and I'm pretty sure you don't want to be that stupid.”

In a small part of his brain, Zane knew Rush was talking sense, but he couldn't seem to hear it over the roaring in his head. The desperation that was pulling at him, that was screaming at him to get in that truck and get the fuck out of there, find Iris. Save her.