No Control
Page 35

“No. I’m keeping the key.”
“It’s not yours to keep.”
“Maybe not, but when you start screaming tonight, I’l be able to get in without breaking your door down again.”
The idea of him holding her, making her forget her dreams, was potent. Blood surged through her body, making her tremble at the memory. “If I start screaming tonight, I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“Tough shit. I can’t just stand by and let you suffer. Not ever again.”
“I’ve been doing fine without you for a long time. I don’t need or want your help.”
“Yes, you do. Eventualy you’l figure that out, but until then, I’m not going to let you suffer.”
Too late, she thought. Her suffering was just getting started. Once she was on her own, that’s al she’d have left.
Denny’s head was pounding. There wasn’t enough beer in Germany to make it stop. He knew because he figured he’d been through half that much today without relief.
He could stil smel the gasoline clinging to his hands no matter how many times he washed them. He could stil feel the heat of the flames on his face. This was one job he’d never forget. Or repeat.
His phone rang, and it took his shaking hands three tries to hit the talk button. “What?” he barked into the phone, then instantly regretted it when the loud noise spiked through his head.
“I have another job for you.”
Denny had come to hate that robot voice. “No. I’m done.”
“Not until I say you are. Unless you’d like me to have a chat with Bruce.”
“I’ve got enough money to make him back off for a few days. I’l get the rest some other way.”
“How?” asked the metalic voice. “With your keen inteligence and charming personality? I’m sure there is a line of employers at your door waiting for the privilege of hiring you.”
He was right. God knew Denny didn’t have a lot going for him, but he’d find a way to make money that didn’t hurt so many people.
He’d watched the news and seen Madeline Hancock sobbing, clinging to her husband. She didn’t look anything like Denny’s mother, but there was something about Madeline that reminded him of her al the same—some mannerism, or maybe that deep, sorrowful look he’d seen his mother wear every day until the day she died.
Denny wasn’t sure he was ever going to get that image out of his head. Not enough beer in Germany.
“We’re done,” he insisted, though his voice wavered.
Silence filed the line for a moment. “You know, Dennis, Bruce is not the only one who knows how to use his hands. If you don’t want my money, I’m sure I can find someone who does.”
Denny got the underlying threat. His boss would use that money to tutor Denny in the most basic way—by beating the shit out of him.
Denny’s head pounded harder, and he struggled to clear it. He didn’t want anything more to do with this nut job, but he’d backed himself into a corner. He could either play nice or take his punishment. Just like old times with Dad.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, knowing he had no choice.
“There’s a package on your front porch. Open it. Take everything out and lay it on your kitchen table.”
Denny waited for more instructions, but none came. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” confirmed the voice.
“Why?”
“Just do what you’re told and be a good boy.”
Denny hung up and got the box off his front porch. He shoved everything off his kitchen table into the trash, making beer bottles clang and pummel his aching head. He slit the tape open with a steak knife and puled out everything inside, placing it al carefuly on the table.
Denny had never been the brightest lightbulb in the box, but he was smart enough to know the makings of a bomb when he saw them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Caleb wanted to break something out of sheer frustration. For nearly a week, Lana did little more than acknowledge his existence. She’d even wedged a chair under the door to her apartment to keep him out. Caleb could have blasted through it, but that wouldn’t have helped his efforts toward getting her to trust him. Besides, he knew that part of him only wanted to get in hoping that she’d beg him to make her forget her nightmares again. Just the thought of a repeat of that night was enough to have him sweating and shaking with unsated lust.
She’d been polite to his men, thanking them for helping with the fundraiser, but other than that, she’d kept her distance from everyone.
Except Grant.
Every evening after the youth center closed, Grant had been training with Lana, teaching her the brutal, deadly moves they’d al learned in unarmed-combat training. From the bruises on Grant’s body, Caleb was pretty sure she was learning quickly. If it hadn’t been for that raw gnawing of jealousy in his gut, Caleb would have been comforted to know she was learning how to protect herself.
Grant spun a chair around backward and straddled it. They’d turned Lana’s office into a war room of sorts so that they could have a place to coordinate their efforts. Lana had taken to using the tiny storage room at the back of the office for her own work space, likely to keep from having to see Caleb more than necessary.
The thought pissed him off, and his mood wasn’t improved by Grant’s smug smile.
“How is she?’ asked Caleb. His only source of information about Lana was Grant, and as jealous as he was of the time they were spending together, he knew better than to cut the man off.
“Same as yesterday and the day before. Working herself ragged al day making the auction happen, and working out the frustration of doing that on my poor abused body.
”
“Yeah, it must suck to have a beautiful woman roling around on the floor with you like that. You poor bastard.”
Grant gave a laughing grunt. “She’s got one hel of a punch. Check this out.” Grant puled up the front of his shirt and showed Caleb a new bruise along his ribs.
The purple mark made Caleb smile.
“I told her not to hold back, but damn. She’s stronger than she looks.”
Thank God for that. Caleb wasn’t sure how wel she was holding up, but he knew she wasn’t a wimp or a quitter. Once this fundraiser was over, she wouldn’t have anything to distract her from him, and he’d move in for the kil, so to speak.
Assuming Grant didn’t beat him to it.
“Did you sleep with her last night?” asked Caleb. He hadn’t been able to stick around after Grant had been invited inside. Instead, he’d gone to an al-night gym and beat his frustration out on the heavy bag. His knuckles were sore today, but that’s al he’d managed to accomplish.
“No, I didn’t sleep with her last night. Or any other night. Relax. She may be giving you the ice-queen treatment, but under al that frost, the woman’s stil got the hots for you.”
Caleb tried not to get too excited by Grant’s statement, even though he wanted to lurch out and grab on to that hope with both hands. “Is that so? Guess it’s that way she has of looking right through me like I’m the Invisible Man that had me fooled.”
Grant ran a hand through his blond hair in frustration. “God damn, you can be an idiot. I swear, you act like you’ve never been around a woman before.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re a jackass if you just sit there and let her do this. You think she and I are al buddy-buddy, but you’re wrong. She’s a freaking zombie. No emotion. Not even when she’s fighting. She’s holding al of that in for some reason.”
“Why?”
“Hel if I know. Al I know is that every time I bring up your name, I see a little crack in the ice. She’s got it bad for you, man, and if you don’t do whatever you can to fight for her, you don’t deserve her.”
Grant walked off leaving Caleb reeling. Was he right? Had Caleb done the wrong thing when he’d given her space? He’d done it out of respect. He’d been raised to respect a lady’s wishes, and it was just second nature to him. Maybe that was where he’d gone wrong. Maybe this was one of those rare times when the rules had to be bent if not completely broken in order to obtain the goal. And Caleb definitely had a goal. He wanted Lana untangled from whatever mess she was in so that she’d be able to take back her life. He wanted more than just casual sex with her, and she wasn’t going to be in a position to make those kinds of decisions if she was stil constantly looking over her shoulder, praying her life wouldn’t spiral out of control.
He had to find a way to give her back control. He wasn’t sure how, but he had to try. He loved her too much not to.
Caleb knew it was bad news when he saw the private number on his caler ID. That was the way it always showed up when Monroe caled.
He stepped away from the other men before answering the cal. “Helo.”
“This is taking entirely too long,” said Monroe without preamble.
Caleb didn’t ask him what he meant. He already knew he’d been here too long. “It takes as long as it takes, sir.”
“From what I hear, you aren’t even trying anymore. I didn’t send you out there to lounge about and play with kids al day.”
Caleb wasn’t sure just how Monroe knew he’d been spending most of his time at the youth center, teaching the kids general safety precautions, but he had a good idea.
He was going to have to kick Grant’s ass for this prank. “She’s too worried about her fundraiser to focus on anything else.”
“You’ve got enough men to pul off ten fundraisers and you know it. This is child’s play—literaly—and I’m not letting you use it as an excuse. Finish the job, or I’l send someone who can.”
“I thought there wasn’t anyone else, sir.”
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
“No, sir.”
“So you can piss me off without even trying, but you can’t gain the confidence of one woman with an entire team to back you up while you do? What the hel are we paying you for?”
Caleb focused on breathing and not saying how he realy felt about Monroe’s opinion. “I need more time, sir.”
“You’ve got three days. Get it done or move aside for someone who can.”
“The fundraiser is in two days,” explained Caleb.
“Then that gives you a whole day after the damn thing to get the girl to talk.”
“Yes, sir,” grated out Caleb. Had he tried to say anything else, it would have been the end to his career. Then again, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
“Good. Check back in every twenty-four and give me a progress report.” With that, Monroe hung up.
Caleb stood there for several minutes, trying to get his frustration under control. It wasn’t going to help anyone if he couldn’t pul himself together and focus.
Three days. It might not be enough, but there was only one way to find out. Caleb was done being nice. Lady or not, Lana was about to meet the side of Caleb that had earned him his career in Special Forces. He didn’t like playing dirty, but it was for her own good.