Captive, Mine Read online

  The channel went dead a moment, then the officer was back on. “Water main break about ten blocks north. Christ.”

  Lake hated these wrinkles, these little challenges fate and random chance always threw in the way on missions. He didn’t like fate or chance — both could get you killed just as dead.

  “How long?” He knew the answer before the radio crackled in his ear.

  “Hours. Traffic’s a mess on the whole upper west side. We’ll get you out another route.”

  “What’s going on?” she murmured as the officers flipped on their lights and strobes, their sirens blaring their staccato warning tones as the cruisers picked their way through the slowly moving cars.

  “Stay on my ass,” the patrolman said in Lake’s ear.

  “Looks like we’re going on a little detour.” Lake kept his tone light. “It’s nothing.”

  Her gaze moved from the cruisers, then back to him, the quick movement of her eyes betraying her fear.

  It was an absurd time to think it, but he rather liked that look in her eyes.

  Not now, Lake. Just get this over with.

  As their little convoy snaked through the traffic-snarled streets of New York, he ran over the plan for the next few hours in his mind once again. So much could still go wrong, so much should go wrong — but he knew it wouldn’t.

  Hit the marks, Lake. Timing. Timing. Timing.

  His employer knew what he was doing hiring the company. Lake would perform this last mission, this last task, and he’d do it well — no matter how unpleasant, even wrong, it might be. Right and wrong weren’t part of this equation. Only the mission, the job, mattered now.

  He’d fulfill his contract, and then he’d be done. For good.

  Chapter 2

  I stared out the window at New York City traffic as our motorcade made its way around the mess.

  Every time I’d glance over at Lake¸ he would meet my gaze so I determined to stop looking at him. I’d just sit quietly. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going and I guess that was part of his job. Part of his “keeping me safe.” That made me fume.

  I could still feel where he’d touched me when he had strapped me in and as much as I wanted to push the button and unlock the seat belt, instinct told me not to do it, not to test him. I wasn’t used to being told what to do. Hell, I was the one who did the telling most of the time. Daddy’s business, I wasn’t a part of that. He made sure to keep me far from it. But I wasn’t stupid either. Drug money paid for my apartment, my clothes, my car.

  My car…I missed it already. It was a little black BMW M6 Convertible. I tugged at the too tight seat belt, giving him the meanest look I could muster. Screw him. Who was he anyway? A bodyguard. I called the shots, not him.

  * * *

  “How much longer?” I checked my watch. Almost four hours had passed since we’d left the city.

  He glanced at me as if only now realizing I was still sitting there.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Time? How much longer until we get to where we’re going?” I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable but failing.

  “We’ll stop for the night in a few more hours.”

  “Hours?”

  He nodded. He was deep in thought and obviously didn’t feel like answering my questions.

  “I need to pee,” I said, smiling when he glanced at me. I didn’t really but he didn’t need to know that. Why make this ride pleasant for him when it was anything but for me?

  “We just passed a rest stop. You couldn’t have mentioned it earlier?”

  “You can take this next exit. There’s a Starbucks a few blocks off the highway. I could use a cup of coffee too.”

  “We’re not taking another detour.” He didn’t even bother looking at me when he said it. “We’ll stop at the next rest area.”

  “I have to go now,” I said, wiggling a little. “You don’t want me to have an accident in your truck, do you?” As I said it, I looked in the backseat. It was immaculate; he obviously took care of it. The only thing there was a toolbox on the floor. “I’d feel terrible if I messed up your truck,” I added when he met my gaze, my tone as flat as possible.

  “Try to be a big girl and hold it, Lily. We’re not stopping.”

  “You’re being a jerk.”

  He said nothing to me, but kept his eyes on the road, passing the exit, mumbling some words into his mouthpiece.

  “Where is my new home going to be anyway?”

  “I only know the details for tonight’s stop. We’ll know more about the final destination tomorrow.”

  “Ok, then how about tonight? Where are we stopping?”

  He turned to me and forced his lips to form a smile. “Holiday Inn.”

  “Why are you being so mean? I’m the one whose life is over.”

  He looked at me when I said it and there was one brief moment of emotion in his eyes. Something about that made me take notice, especially when in the next instant, it was gone.

  He exhaled. “We’ll spend the night near Columbus, Ohio. From there, I really don’t know. I won’t until tomorrow morning when we head out again. It’s another few hours at least to get to our destination. Why don’t you close your eyes and get some rest?” he asked, sounding almost nice for a second.

  I shook my head and looked forward. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. I had a life, friends. I had everything. I looked out the passenger window to hide the tears that filled my eyes. I was not going to cry. Not in front of him.

  At least our escort had lost the marked cars with their blaring sirens. Now three dark sedans followed us while another led the way up ahead.

  * * *

  “Ms. Cross.”

  Someone shook my shoulder.

  “Wake up, Ms. Cross. We’re here.”

  I opened my eyes and sat up, my body stiff from the awkward position I’d apparently fallen asleep in.

  “Get off me.” I shrugged off his touch, feeling disoriented and at an even greater disadvantage. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

  He chuckled, opened his door and stepped out. I unbuckled my seatbelt and flipped the visor down, quickly checking my face in the mirror. My hair was tangled where I’d slept on it and my eyes were red. I pushed the visor closed and looked around. We were parked outside a Holiday Inn that looked like it hadn’t been renovated since the seventies. The lot was dark and as I watched, Lake picked up a rock and threw it at the lamp closest to the truck, effectively blacking out this part of the parking lot.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, climbing out. And I mean climbing. The truck was higher off the ground than I’d expected. He walked over to me as I looked around. “Where are the other cars?” Our motorcade was absent.

  When he came close enough that I could see his face, something made me take a step back as a shiver ran through me. A familiar shiver. “Where is everyone?”

  One of the sedans came around the corner as I asked the question. I exhaled, feeling, for some reason, relieved. Lake was still watching me when I looked back at him. He smiled but something wasn’t right. I could feel it.

  “Here they are,” he said, stepping to the side and gesturing for me to go ahead of him.

  I took a step, taking care not to touch him as I passed between him and the car door. He slammed it shut. One of the officers approached him and handed over a key.

  “You have adjoining rooms. 206 and 208, Mr. Freeman,” he said to Lake.

  “We won’t need adjoining rooms,” I argued, shivering in the cool night. “Where’s my coat?”

  The officer opened his mouth to say something but Lake stopped him and turned to me, taking my arms, squeezing once as if he were trying really hard to be patient. “We’re here for a few hours to get some sleep. We’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning, likely before daybreak. You will take the room you’ve been assigned and thank the officer for it. You’ll also leave the door between our rooms open for the night. Unless of course you prefer I just sleep in your bed.”


  The officer gave him one look and walked away. I would have slapped him if I hadn’t been caught so off guard. “How dare you?” Shaking myself free from his grip, I snatched one of the two keys from his hand before he could stop me. I then straightened up and looked him right in the eye. “You work for me, Lake Freeman. Remember it.”

  Rage like a fire brightened his eyes. His mouth tightened into a thin line and he fisted and un-fisted his hands. My heart raced but I somehow managed not to take a step back.

  “No, Ms. Cross,” he said, taking my wrist and squeezing hard enough that I had to let him have the key. “I work for your father. I do not work for you. Remember it.”

  He twisted my arm upward, keeping hold of my wrist. I tried to yank it away but couldn’t.

  “You’re going to need to check your attitude here and now. You do not want to piss me off.”

  “What? What are you going to do to me? Everything I have is gone. Nothing you can do can make my situation worse!”

  He squeezed so hard I couldn’t help but let out a small squeal.

  “Mr. Freeman?” the officer said from a few feet away.

  Lake glared at me and it took him a moment before he finally let me go. “Move.”

  I did. I rubbed my wrist which I knew would be bruised tomorrow, but I moved. I’d met some of Daddy’s “associates”. They were not a bunch to be fucked with. But in all these years, no one scared me like Lake Freeman scared me now.

  The motel was much as I expected: old and gross. Lake let me into my room and told me to stay put. He then took the key and shut the door. I set my bag on the desk and walked over to the window. The curtains had been drawn shut and the window overlooked the highway so I left them as they were. I pulled the covers back from the bed touching as little as possible, wrinkling my face. I didn’t stay in hotels like this. This was disgusting.

  The bathroom at least looked somewhat clean. The fan went on along with the light. The bright fluorescent light. It didn’t do anything for my overall appearance at the moment but at least they did have thick, newer-looking towels. I switched on the shower, letting it steam up the bathroom as I stripped off my dress and underwear, and made sure to lock the door before stepping under the hot stream.

  I stayed there for a long time not doing anything at all. The water poured over me and I let myself cry, trying to make as little sound as possible. For the first time in my life, I had no control over what was happening to me. I didn’t even know where we were going or what time we’d be leaving.

  I did have one thing they didn’t know about though: cash and the key to a safe deposit box to access a passport and more funds from a bank in the city were kept in a secret pocket sewn into my purse. No one would know about those things; my dad had arranged it all when I’d moved out on my own once I’d turned eighteen. I’d thought then that he was being overprotective, but now I was grateful that he’d planned so far ahead. That gave me pause to think though. Lake Freeman would not be an easy man to lose. I wondered for a moment why my dad had hired him. It wasn’t like him to do something like that without letting me know. Unless he wasn’t able to let me know. Could the situation be even more dangerous than I realized?

  If I could get back to the city, I could maybe disappear on my own. At least for a while, until Randall was put away for good. I could go to Europe, spend a few years in the South of France.

  The thought of my dad all alone somewhere surrounded by much the same as what I was surrounded with here crowded my mind. I knew at once that I couldn’t do anything for him. He too had known what was coming but hadn’t had much choice in things. Maybe after Randall’s trial though. Maybe once it was all over, we could see each other again.

  I didn’t like what my dad did. I didn’t like who he was in this world. Maybe because of his life though, I had stayed clean all of mine. I’d never even smoked a single cigarette. I missed him and as much as I didn’t like how he made his money, I also depended on it, knew it provided for everything and then some. I knew the cost, but had always managed to look the other way. Was I as guilty as him for that?

  The water began to cool and I switched off the shower.

  My father had hired Lake Freeman to protect me, which meant he didn’t trust the feds to do it. No big surprise there, I was probably better off dead to them anyway. One less thing to keep my dad from testifying. But Lake was my bigger problem. I didn’t trust him; something was off with him. It was just a feeling. I had no concrete evidence of anything. But over the years, I’d learned to trust my intuition. I would try to sneak out tonight when everyone was asleep. Surely they all had to sleep sometime. I’d just have to figure out how to get the keys to Lake’s truck.

  I squeezed the moisture from my hair and wrapped a towel around myself before opening the bathroom door and stepping into the bedroom, gasping when I did.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked, holding my towel up with one hand while yanking my purse out of Lake’s hands with the other.

  He let me have it and remained seated while taking the battery out of my phone. “They should have taken this already. Can’t take a chance on anyone tracking you,” he said, standing and slipping phone and battery into the back pocket of his jeans. “Good shower?” he asked, looking me over.

  “You can’t just come in here when you damn well please and you can’t go through my purse and take my things!” I looked inside, checking to see if he’d found the secret pocket, but it didn’t look like he had. “And give me back my phone. I have my life stored in there.”

  “You won’t be needing it anymore. Remember, you’re getting a brand new life now.”

  I stared at him. He had zero compassion. There wasn’t even a hint of emotion in his eyes. I hadn’t done anything to deserve what was happening. None of this was my fault. I didn’t want this. I hadn’t asked for it. And he was treating me like a criminal.

  I did the only thing I could do. I lunged at him, surprising him long enough to push him onto the bed. “Give me back my things!”

  I fell on top of him. One of my hands curled into a fist and, without a thought, I went to punch him. I’d never hit someone before and I’d certainly never punched anyone, but all it took from him was the slightest shift of his body and my fist landed on his shoulder instead of his face. In the next instant, he had me by my wrists and somehow, flipped me over so I lay on the bed on my back pushing against him. But I was no match for his strength. My knee traveled upward but he trapped my leg easily between his thighs and held my arms out on either side of me, his body closer than I liked, his face much closer than I liked.

  “Let me go,” I spat, trying once more to get free of him but failing. He put more pressure on my wrists until they hurt. “You’re hurting me!”

  “Then stop fighting and I won’t have to!”

  “I hate you!” I hissed, feeling my face crumple. “I hate you so much!” I turned away when I started to cry. I hated myself for that.

  He shifted his weight and released my wrists. I didn’t look at him but rolled over onto my side, tucking my knees up to my chest and hiding my face in my arms.

  “Get some sleep,” he said, his voice quiet. He switched off the lamp by the bed. I heard the door between our rooms open but didn’t hear it close. I stayed as I was, hoping to push every tear that was left out. Hoping to be finished with crying. Knowing I was far from it.

  Chapter 3

  The cold of the early morning bit the exposed skin of his face, his breath fogging before him in the chill air. His mind was elsewhere though, on the woman still inside the motel. Lake checked his watch. 5:10. Still over an hour until dawn. Still enough time to change his mind about this insanity.

  But he knew he wouldn’t.

  The glass doors of the lobby entrance opened haltingly, one of the rollers screeching in its carriage. The hulking form of the state patrol sergeant emerged, his tan Stetson with the purple band perched straight atop his high-and-tight haircut.

  “Sleep well, Serg
eant?”

  The man gave Lake a faint smile utterly devoid of warmth, then sipped from the white lid of his paper coffee cup. “She up yet?”

  “Any minute.” Lake pointed to the Crown Victoria in the side parking lot, its white exhaust rendering the glare of the headlights into ghostly beams. “She’s been briefed on the hand-off. Out the side entrance, 5:15.”

  “Why the side? Why didn’t you bring her out?” The sergeant put a huge fist over his mouth, stifling a cough.

  “All that matters is that we got her here. Delivered, safe and sound. But the marshals take things from here.” Lake shrugged, feeling the first chill of the air through his heavy coat. “They made it a condition of Cross’s deal. Don’t really have much leverage to argue with them.”

  The trooper fixed Lake with a cold stare. “I’d have never let you come this far, if it were up to me.”

  He gave the trooper a grim smile. “Why did you then?”

  “What the DA wants, the DA gets. Like you said — not much leverage to argue with.”

  Lake looked around. “Where’d your back-up go?”

  “Sent ‘em home last night.” The trooper’s flinty gaze looked him up and down. “I’ve got things handled.”

  A shadow crossed the beams of the car’s lights, the mist of the exhaust swirling. Lily’s form paused in front of the vehicle. She was bundled in a dark mid-length coat, the hood lined with ash-colored fur. Her luminous eyes looked back, catching the gleam of the lights.

  Lake gave her a nod.

  Almost there, bad girl.

  The driver’s side door opened, a tall, slender man walking around the front, buttoning up his brown jacket. Lily moved back a step, watching the man closely, then glancing back toward Lake. The man said something to Lily, opening his coat and showing her something in his hand. She nodded. The man touched her gently on the upper arm, then ambled over to Lake and the trooper.

  “Deputy United States Marshal DeSalvo. WITSEC.” The man showed his identification, the distinctive gold star next to the photo and credentials. He gave the trooper a wide, amiable smile, a well-trimmed beard darkening his jawline. “Sergeant Foster?”