Page 51 of Evening Shadows

Full of fear for Sam, he stood at the door. Even with the warmth from inside the eight-by-ten space of his prison, the steel bars felt like ice in his hands. His gut twisted with worry and how her meeting progressed. She’d asked him to trust her and, in their predicament, he had no choice but to do so, even when his heart lurched at the way she’d greeted Beverly.

He didn’t trust Beverly. If she’d convinced Sam of the validity of that damn intel report, would the crazy woman believe Sam still believed it and stood with her?

Calling himself all kinds of stupid, he should’ve been smarter and more stubborn about their sleeping arrangements. Anyone could’ve looked in on them and fed Beverly their cuddling position which Sam would’ve had to talk fast to justify.

Concern on whether Beverly would go nuts—more than when they’d left her—and hurt Sam had him shaking with a terror that emanated from deep within his heart. Although not wanting to admit it, a pang of outright fright tried to bubble up within him that Beverly might bring Sam around to wanting him and Jesse dead. The passing of their husbands had strengthened the bond between them, surely.

Closing his weary eyes, he leaned his forehead against the inescapable cell door and wanted to slap himself for thinking such thoughts about Sam. She’d admitted how she’d fallen for Bev’s faulty info and couldn’t get aboard the crazy train. She may’ve had a moment or two of weakness, losing her focus, but it’d only been a few days that she’d been fooled. He believed her, heart and soul.

In the months since she’d moved to Baltimore and they worked together, they’d tightened up their friendship and become closer day after day. That growing bond helped soothe his bruised heart, as he knew the woman she was. The Sam he’d fallen in love with. The woman who’d smiled and a glow of happiness and contentment surrounded her. This is the woman he’d given his heart to, even though she hadn’t been aware of his love. Until now.

As for her heart, she may not love him—and he’d been prepared for that—but she did deeply care for him. In fact, he’d seen a raw, true desire in her gorgeous blue eyes—as well as he could see in the near dark. The small window, sitting up high with square bars, allowed very little light to spill into the room. She wouldn’t’ve been able to kiss him with so much passion or relax in his arms if he hadn’t stirred something deep within her. And he would continue to stir up her emotions until she either made him the happiest man on earth or finally crushed his heart.

No matter her ultimate decision, he’d never stop loving her.

When HIS hired her, his body had hummed at the thought of being close to her on a daily basis, and he enjoyed every minute of it. Granted, seeing her in danger still didn’t sit well with him, but even though he worried, they worked well together, and it only strengthened what was between them. He just needed to get them out of here so they could go home and crawl into bed—together.

Lifting his head from the bars, he stopped himself from turning and pacing. He’d already figured out the mistake in trying that. Walking was fine, twisting not so fine.

Although Sam had searched the barren room, he’d checked every nook and cranny and came to the same conclusion. The room and sparse contents offered nothing useful. Any type of metal springs on the uncomfortable cot would’ve been a bonus, but instead, it’d been made of wood and bolted to the floor with concrete screws he expected to be embedded very deep.

Even at full strength, he wouldn’t have been able to break the legs from the floor or the wooden base of the cot apart. Then the other object—a disgusting bucket and with the aroma of past use, it’d been their bathroom. Not having a handle for an easy hold or any weight to make a difference, only the smell or actual contents would aid them momentarily.

A small chuckle slipped out and he cursed himself for not remembering the pain in his chest when he did that. At least he felt certain the ribs weren’t broken. Maybe a couple might have small fractures, but mostly bruising. Although not having heavy damage hadn’t been for lack of their trying.

Painful breathing would follow him on escape, but he’d suffer through it like a champion. The leg though….

Where had his thoughts been? Oh yeah, the bathroom bucket. At first, Sam had refused to use it, but she’d caved after a full bladder. But not before making sure he not only turned his back, but he’d covered his ears.

After she’d left with Beverly and Jose—he really hated that man and hoped to get his revenge—he removed the small earpiece from the hiding space. More than ever he realized, that’d been the right idea to keep it out of both their ears. He didn’t know what Beverly would’ve done if she’d found it. Alejandro and Beverly’s goons hadn’t used the microphones yet, and he hoped they didn’t figure out the frustration they could cause the team’s members monitoring the station in case Ken or Sam broadcast. Not that the team would be fooled with mindless chatter from their captors, but it’d clog up the airway.

“Velma.” Ken closed his eyes in relief. Franks had come up with a plan. Based on the few code words used, three men—as he’d suspected—were watching. One at each gate and Doc in the middle to play his role of Shaggy. Instead of leading the tangos to a trap, Doc would protect his and Sam’s six and lead the hired guns astray. That was assuming that he and Sam could escape. What he really wanted to hear, although he doubted he would today, was “Freddie.” That meant he could expect the cavalry.

His hackles rose and his heart leapt into his throat when he heard Sam’s distressed voice calling out for help. What the hell had happened? He’d figured that Sam would stay with Beverly and hopefully get him released. Instead one of his fears had come true. It appeared Beverly had gone off the deep end—deeper than before—and since she couldn’t bring Sam around to her way of thinking, she’d kept her as a prisoner.

“No,” Sam shouted, “I won’t go back in there.” Then louder, she screamed, “Bev, you can’t do this. I thought you were my friend.”

Shaking the bars in an effort to push his way through and effectively throttle the man holding Sam against her will, a deep-down rage exploded within him. His entire body shook with the effort to keep himself from snapping and hurtling over the edge and attacking the guard, which could make matters worse for them. Being utterly helpless behind the bars, he held it all back. And being damn helpless hurt not only his chance of survival, but Sam’s too.

He’d promised Lance he’d take care of Sam. Yet he found himself in a situation where he had no ability to meet that promise, and it cut him deep.

He blocked the despair that tried to push its way forward in his mind and heart. “Never give up” was a well-known motto for military special operators, and he wouldn’t. There had to be a way. Had to.

Since it appeared Beverly didn’t plan to use Sam to follow through on whatever lunacy she’d planned, he hoped Sam had been able to extract something that would aid them. Even if Beverly hadn’t told her specifically, Sam would’ve uncovered something. He believed in her abilities.

With his limited vision since the bars held him back, he couldn’t see Sam, but he could tell by the shuffling and grunting noises, she struggled with her captor. Her pleading calls to Beverly went unanswered.

As a gentleman and man of honor, he’d never struck a woman. He’d taken some down and had to use some strength. But if Beverly harmed Sam, he’d rethink his honor that held to not harming women. She’d messed with Sam, who held his heart, that meant she’d messed with him.

Somehow, Beverly would pay. HIS would ensure it. If only they could take care of it now, he’d appreciate it.

Coming into sight from his left, Jose, with a tight hold on Sam’s forearm, propelled her forward. She fought every step of the way, digging in her heels, attempting to wrench her arm away, and stumbling into the man….

A smile broke across Ken’s face and he ignored the pain of the stretching of his skin on the bruises, burns, swelling, and abrasions.Good woman.He hoped she could make it to the cell now with the blade she’d just lifted from Jose. She flipped it, and with the handle in her free hand, hid the blade inside her shirtsleeve so it wouldn’t be detected. In fact, she’d liftedherknife. She’d been upset at being parted from it, and that brought a smile to his heart.

In one of his weaker moments, he’d gifted her that knife. The three of them—he, Lance, and Sam—had browsed a weapons’ store. He and Lance were always on the lookout for something new and lethal. Sam admired a knife. Not just any knife, but a smaller one that would’ve been perfect for her. When they’d departed the store, the boot-size blade, remained in the locked glass case. She hadn’t said a thing, but he’d seen her longing look.

Since he had no say in her choice of career, all he could think of was how to help keep her safe—on and off duty. For her birthday that year, he’d presented her the knife as a gift. Lance hadn’t been too happy, but in the end he’d relented. The way Sam’s face had lit up with joy, he’d have happily pissed off his friend all the way around the world.

---