Page 26 of Passion's Wicked Torment

“You’re crazy!” she declared.

“Probably.” He had not intended to kiss her, she could see that in his eyes. The urge had simply come over him, irresistibly.

“This is what you came to tell me? That you . . . love me?”

“Babe,” he said, holding her tighter, “I do still love you. But it’s not what I came here for tonight. I came to tell you this: You’ve got to get away from Ironman. Your life is in danger by staying with him.”

“Why? From what?”

He looked as if he wanted to tell her more but was unable to do so. He frowned and pressed his lips together. There was no time to lose, for the band was winding down the dance tune, and couples were beginning to leave the floor. He held his silence.

The song ended. Hunter began escorting her back toward Ironman, who was visible now, watching them. Hunter’s last words to her, before they came within hearing distance, were in a low, commanding voice. “Just do as I say. Get away from him. You’re in danger.”

Then they were near Ironman and his crowd. Hunter released her arm, and she moved to Ironman’s side. Hunter grinned at Ironman and joked, “It was just like old times. She still can’t stand me.”

The others around Ironman laughed, but Ironman’s face remained impassive. His eyes were smoldering. Kristin hooked her arm under his in a gesture meant to show him that she was still loyal, that there was no need for jealousy. The gesture failed.

When Hunter started to leave, Ironman said in a gruff voice that was straining to remain under control, “Dallas, Riggio can’t collect the numbers bags tonight. He’s sick with the flu. You know the lakefront area. How’s about you picking them up?”

“Sure,” said Hunter, shrugging amiably. Then he left.

When the next dance began, Ironman took Kristin onto the floor and began dancing with her, bullishly, with no grace whatever. This was a sharp contrast to Hunter’s stylish smoothness. Ironman held her right hand in a vicelike grip, hurting her. She knew he was aware of it. And he had no intention of stopping.

“What did he say to you?” he demanded.

“Nothing important.”

“What was it!” His tone was murderous.

She winced at the pain. His powerful grip tightened on her right hand as he held her in a dance stance that,to everyone around, seemed perfectly natural and proper.

“He said he’s glad he has nothing to do with me any more. I’m not his type.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Ironman, you’re so jealous! That’s why you don’t believe me. Why can’t you see the truth when it’s right in front of your eyes?”

“In front of my eyes, huh? What truth is that?”

“That I don’t care about Dallas Hunter at all.” “Good. Then you won’t care about me telling Teal to knock him off, will you?”

Her breath caught, and she felt her heart skip a beat. When she spoke, it was slowly, hesitantly. “You told him to kill Dallas?”

His face was mocking. “That’s right. Why should you care?”

“Ironman, I don’t care a whit about him. But I . . . don’t like the idea of you killing him. It’s just that I . . . well, I don’t have anything against him. Don’t kill him, Ironman.”

“What’s done is done. I already gave the order while you and Hunter were having such a grand time dancing. When he’s at the third bookie joint out on the wharf tonight, collecting the bookie takes like I told him to do, that’s when he’ll get it.” Ironman tried to make her look less sullen, to put a brighter aspect to it. “Don’t you see, doll? It’ll be much better for us this way. For you and me.” She lowered her eyes, but he raised her chin with his finger and made her look at him. He smiled. “I know I’m too damn jealous. Well, this will solve it. You see?”

She wanted to try further to talk him out of it, but she saw that it would be no use. He would only become more suspicious about whether she still had deep feelings for Hunter. She said nothing for the remainder of the dance, and she made certain not to let her feelings show. When they returned to their table, where the party among Ironman’s cronies and hangers-on continued, she tried to excuse herself. Ironman held her arm tightly, though, telling her he enjoyed her company.

She did finally manage to excuse herself later, to go to the powder room, but Ironman turned to Teal’s blowzy wife as Kristin was about to leave and asked, “You going to let my girl go off by herself? I thought dolls always liked powdering their noses in pairs?”

“Sure, Ironman honey,” muttered Evelyn Teal, smiling. She had been drunkenly blowing into her husband’s ear. She rose to her feet, unsteadily, and took Kristin’s hand. Then she swung it back and forth as she led the way to the powder room, like two schoolgirls holding hands and skipping.

Even if Evelyn Teal hadn’t accompanied her, Kristin did not know for sure what she could do. There was no way to contact Dallas before he reached the lakefront wharf. Her mind was in turmoil. What could she do?

The turmoil intensified once they returned to the penthouse after the party. Ironman fell asleep almost the instant he hit the bed due to the massive amount of whiskey he had drunk. Kristin knew from experience that he would not awaken by himself after falling into such a drunken stupor, at least not until late in the morning. But did she dare leave him? Did she dare to go the wharf to try to warn Dallas?

She was beside herself with anxiety and anguish. If she went and Ironman found out, it would probably mean her life. If she didn’t go, Dallas would die. And to make matters even worse, there was the question of Chad’s life too. She was so close to finding out where he was being held! The day after tomorrow Ironman planned to go to the place and to take her with him. Oh, he wouldn’t take her into the very room where Chad was held, but she would at least know where the building was so she could notify the federal authorities. But if she went to warn Dallas now, and if Ironman learned of it, she’d never be able to save Chad!

Was it fair to risk Chad’s life in an attempt to warn Dallas, which might not even succeed? And she was so close, so close! Only another two days!

She went out onto the veranda and looked down at the city below, muted and almost still under the cloak of chilly night. Her brow was knitted in a frown. What could she do?

CHAPTER 15

Dallas Hunter walked along the fogbound waterfront bordering Lake Michigan on his way to his third and final numbers pickup of the night. The numbers bags he was collecting held the receipts from the day’s betting. The air was so thick with fog that it seemed wet, and the planks of the walkway were soaked. They squeaked under his shoes. Streetlights glowed along the wharf, and when Hunter looked at them, he saw a misty blue halo enveloping the lights.

His mind was not on his task, and because of this, he was not as cautious as he would usually be. He was preoccupied thinking about his meeting with Kristin earlier, at the ball. It had been so good seeing her again. And so hurtful to see her with Ironman, knowing what she allowed him to do to her each night.

He had gone to the ball to warn her that she was in danger. Unfortunately, though, he didn’t think he had succeeded in convincing her. He couldn’t tell her the source of the danger or how he knew about it. That would blow his cover ... for she was still, after all, Ironman’s moll.

She was in danger because the government anticrime people were getting ready to try a new tactic against Ironman, something that had never been done before. It involved bringing the tax authorities into the picture and trying to nail him on a federal tax evasion warrant. This was something totally untried. No hood had ever been sent to prison on tax evasion charges. Once the warrant was issued, though, Ironman would go crazy trying to protect himself against it. He would become surly, extremely suspicious, and vicious.

Hunter knew from experience: When Ironman was facing a crisis, his most animalistic instincts took over, and he became dangerous to be around.

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