Taken and Tamed (12 page)

“I said shut up!” Katherine’s voice was ragged. She shifted and slammed the butt of the gun against Cass’s head. Nico heard the low moan, saw Cass’s knees buckle.

“Get out here. Now. Or I swear I’ll kill her.”

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to hurt her. I’m taking off my clothes. See? Here’s my shirt.”

The navy blue t-shirt he’d been wearing sailed into the clearing.

“Now my pants.” A pair of wadded-up jeans followed. “I’m going commando today, Katherine. So unless you want my shoes and socks too, that’s all you get.”

He stepped out from behind the woodpile, hands behind his head, stark naked except for a heavy pair of hunting boots with thick white socks sticking out the tops.

“Looking fine, Zander.” Cass gave him a little smile, despite a trail of blood trickling from the bruise on the side of her head. Thank heaven she’d had the presence of mind to use the name Katherine knew him by. He didn’t want to blow his cover yet.

He smiled back. “I’m thinking of trying out for the next Magic Mike installment. Maybe as a hot lumberjack. What do you think, Katherine?” He swiveled his hips, did a couple of pelvic thrusts.

Cass winked at him, then let out another moan and collapsed, knocking Katherine off balance as she fell. The gun went flying. Nico pulled the Glock he’d taken from Katherine in Atlanta out of the back of his boot and ran forward.

“Grab her gun, Cass, and then get the hell away from there.”

Before the words had left his mouth, Katherine was already on her knees scrabbling through the briars for the gun. She and Cass both reached for it at the same time. Katherine won but before she could pick it up to aim it, Nico’s boot slammed down, pinning both the gun and Katherine’s wrist under his foot.

She let out a scream.

“I’ve got a pair of handcuffs in the cabin. They’re upstairs, under the pile of clothes I wore that first day. Can you run up and get them for me?” Nico bent down to pull Katherine’s other wrist behind her back, cursing when a thorn-filled branch whipped across his bare thighs. “I swear I’m gonna buy Dave a five-gallon can of Round-Up for this damn yard of his.”

By the time Cass came back, Nico was crouched over Katherine’s body as she lay on her stomach, both hands trapped behind her back. She cussed and threatened him as she struggled on the ground.

“You dog! I’m not gone five minutes and you’re already playing dom with some other woman.”

He looked down at his naked body, cock poised right over Katherine’s wiggling ass, and gave Cass a wicked grin. Despite all she’d been through, she was doing her best to act brave. “This is one of those times when you have to believe what I say, babe, not what’s right in front of your eyes. Besides, she isn’t my type. A true submissive doesn’t try to shoot her dom as foreplay.”

He took the cuffs and locked them tight around Katherine’s wrists before hauling her to her feet and shoving her ahead of him. “Let’s get inside so I can put some clothes on. I’m getting a little tired of being ripped to shreds out here. I like being an exhibitionist as well as the next guy but it’s time to protect my boys from Mother Nature.”

Cass’s laughter was drowned out by a shot from the woods behind her car. Nico’s grin faded and he sank to his knees, blood welling up from a hole in his chest. She screamed and rushed toward him.

“Stop right there.” Agent Smith stepped out from behind the rear bumper of her car. “I’m afraid Mr. Coleman won’t be available to play house with you any longer. He’s late for a previous appointment—in hell. Katherine, are you all right?”

She turned and delivered a swift kick to Nico’s groin. He groaned and toppled over sideways.

“I am now,” she announced. “But I think the son of a bitch broke my wrist when he stomped on it. It hurts like hell and it’s swelling up with these tight cuffs on.”

Smith waved his gun at Cass. “Where’s the key?”

“I don’t know.”

Katherine’s foot shot out and she kicked Nico again, this time aiming at his gunshot wound. He grunted and curled into a fetal position, both hand crossed over his chest.

“Stop it! I’m telling you, I don’t know where he keeps the key.”

Smith came over and grabbed Cass by her ponytail, yanking her toward the cabin. “We’re going inside to find it,” he announced. “Katherine, can you keep an eye on our friend here?”

“With pleasure,” she replied, delivering another of those powerful soccer kicks, this time to Nico’s stomach. His groan was drowned out by Katherine’s nasty laugh.

* * *

Smith dragged her toward the door by her hair, his gun firmly planted in her ribs. Cass fought down a rising tide of panic. She didn’t know how badly Nico had been injured. He looked barely conscious. The bullet had penetrated his back and gone clear through his body, leaving a small exit hole in his upper chest. In her line of work, she’d seen autopsy photos of victims with wounds that looked less serious than that, but she was no medical expert.

Her mind raced, coming up with scenarios and rejecting them just as fast. Fortunately Smith never bothered to pat her down. He’d have found the knife Nico gave her to cut flowers, tucked into her back pocket. Maybe she’d get a chance to use it, put him out of commission somehow, at least long enough to summon help.

She stalled for time, falling back on what she did best. She decided to treat Smith as though he was about to star in her latest true crime book. She’d become skilled at her craft over the years, learning how to put her subjects at ease and get them talking. One thing they all seemed to have in common was the need to explain to her just how smart they were. She started talking. Her gut told her that he’d have to jump in and correct her as soon as she got something wrong.

“So you’re both on Big Tony’s payroll, huh? Katherine is obviously the inside man. She finds out where the marshal’s service is stashing the witnesses. I’m guessing you go out and get rid of them. Smart. They’ve been looking at U.S. Marshals. I’ll bet Katherine has had an iron-clad alibi every time. And as part of the FBI task force, you can show up afterwards, wave your badge around, and make sure if you’ve screwed up and left any trace evidence behind, it will be explained by the fact that you were there at the crime scene.”

“Miss big shot true-crime writer. I read your last one. It made me sick the way you got people to feel sorry for that serial killer. You know, you could have gotten a great book out of this one. Too bad someone else will have to write it.”

Cass forced a laugh. “Yeah, but I’ll get to be the heroine for a change. Killed by a couple of rogue government agents who sold out.”

“You don’t know anything about us.” Smith poked her with the barrel of the gun. “We’re doing our country a service. Over the years the program has changed from being a safe haven for innocent people who witnessed brutal crimes to a corrupt system where thieves and killers can bargain their way to freedom by ratting on someone who is no worse than they are.”

“So you and Katherine, you’re really the heroes here?”

“Damn right.”

“I can see how you’d feel that way about killing Zander. He works for the mob. But what about me? I’m a witness—and I’m obviously not going to live long enough to make it into any program. That makes me the innocent victim. How does killing me make you a hero?”

“No matter how just the cause, every war has civilian casualties. Your death may save dozens of lives if we get rid of more vicious criminals who would otherwise be free.” As he spoke, Smith held the gun on her with one hand while digging through drawers and cabinets with the other.

“You seem like a decent guy, a man who wants to do what is right.” The words nearly stuck in Cass’s throat but she’d played this role before. The sympathetic listener, no matter how twisted and psychotic a rationale she heard. “There had to be a trigger—
something
that led you to look at your life’s work differently.” She let the words hang, trusting that he’d be compelled to make her understand his point of view.

By now they’d moved upstairs, Smith rifling through the clothes Nico had worn in Atlanta. With a smile, Smith fished a key out of the pocket of Nico’s suit jacket. Success seemed to take the edge off his hostility. He perched on the edge of one of the beds and began explaining, waving the gun around for emphasis as he did.

“It was Kyle. Our son. A long time ago, while we were both in college, Katherine and I—well, we were in love. But we both had big plans for the future and when Katherine got pregnant, we made the choice to have her carry the baby and then give it up for adoption. Things changed between us afterwards. I think the grief over what she’d lost weighed so heavily on Katherine that it got in the way of any feelings she had for me. We split up and I didn’t see her for years. But I never really stopped loving her.”

Cass stifled a cry, turning it into a sympathetic “Oooh.” Out of the corner of her eye, she’d caught a glimpse of a familiar figure making his way soundlessly up the stairs. Naked, bleeding, but back on his feet. Relieved, Cass let go of the knife she’d been sliding out of her pocket. She’d been steeling herself to use it on Smith, all the while terrified at the prospect of plunging it into another human being.

From where he sat, Smith didn’t have the same vantage point she did. Cass shifted a little to block his view even more and kept him talking.

“How long have the two of you been back together?”

“We aren’t together. Not like we once were. Katherine sought me out a couple of years ago. She’d kept in touch with Kyle’s adoptive parents, staying on the sidelines. He thought she was just an old friend of the family.”

Lost in his story, Smith choked back tears as he went on. “I think that’s what was the hardest for Katherine—the fact that her boy died never knowing she was his mother. A small-time criminal in the program, one of the witnesses Katherine had sworn to protect, was granted immunity in exchange for testifying against a bigger fish. After the trial, he walked away a free man. But once a scumbag, always a scumbag. He robbed a convenience store two months later, killed the clerk and a college kid who had the bad luck to be in the store at the time. Kyle. Katherine came to me, begging me to help her get justice for our dead son. I couldn’t refuse her.”

Cass stayed frozen in place, hardly daring to breathe. She could feel Nico coming up behind her and she was terrified that Smith would snap out of his reverie too soon.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Katherine must have been grief-stricken. Losing a child not once but twice.”

Smith shook his head. “Something broke inside her. We tracked that piece of shit down together, got to him before the cops did. They found his body, shot once in the chest and once in the head, just like our boy. After that, she’d come to me from time to time. Bring me case files. Criminals the program was protecting. Rapists, wife-beaters, even a guy involved with kiddy porn. There wasn’t enough evidence to bring that asshole to trial but he agreed to turn on his partners. They got locked up. A few months after his testimony, thanks to us, he just… disappeared.

“Don’t you see? We’ve been doing good work. Important work. The kind of work our system was supposed to do before it got fucked up by all those bleeding hearts who value the lives of murderers and thieves more than the rights of honest law-abiding citizens.”

Smith looked up in time to see Nico looming over him, covered in blood like an avenging zombie. That split second of shock was all the time Nico needed. He wrestled the gun from Smith’s grasp.

The man crumbled. He buried his face in his hands, sobs wracking his body. Nico dug his cell phone out of the jumble of clothes on the bed and tossed it to Cass, before collapsing onto the bed.

“Better call 911,” he managed to gasp. “Tell them to send a chopper. That narrow road up here is gonna get pretty crowded.”

Three weeks later

Cass pulled up in front of the cabin and stared around in amazement. The yard had been mowed, the front porch swept bare of leaves and twigs. Windows sparkled.

“What do you think?” Nico’s grin lit up his face.

“Did you hire an army of little elves?”

“Nah. Just got in touch with a local couple who get the place ready for Dave before he comes up. They start the generator, make sure the plumbing still works—that kind of thing. I offered to pick up the tab for cleaning it and doing some yardwork. It was the least I could do when Dave offered me the use of the place for as long as I want while I’m on leave of absence.”

She hopped out of the car and grabbed an armload of grocery bags.

“Let me get some of those.”

“The doctor said not to lift anything heavy. Your left side sustained some pretty heavy damage.”

“He’s trying to turn me into a pussy.” Nico grabbed two bags with his right hand and followed Cass up the steps of the porch.

“Yeah, well, with the way you whined when I cleaned up a few scratches from those thorns last time we were here, I was beginning to think you already were one.”

“I may have been laying it on a bit thick for sympathy. Didn’t coming to your rescue despite the fact that I was bleeding profusely from life-threatening wounds restore my tough-guy image?”

She laughed and got up on tiptoe, fumbling for the key. Nico stepped behind her, dropped the groceries on the porch, and reached up, trapping her body against the door with his. She felt the unmistakable bulge pressing up against her ass from behind. Cass’s knees went weak.

They’d spent almost all of their time together over the last few weeks, but none of it in bed. First at the hospital, where Cass refused to leave his room for the first few days. He’d been Medivac’d to Asheville and taken straight in to surgery. Only when she was certain he’d be all right would she consent to going back to FBI headquarters in Atlanta for several days of extensive interviews.

By the time she walked back into his hospital room, a week after he’d been shot, he was his usual cocky self. Flirting outrageously with his sixty-three-year-old nurse, refusing to take his pain meds, hobbling up and down the halls for hours while dragging his IV bag as he pushed himself to get back in shape.