Page 4 of Assassin's Heart
Fuck polite. Fuck complying with him—I went as crazy as I could with my hands in an unbreakable grip. Remi didn’t take it lying down, but he didn’t hurt me. Nor did he release my hands.
“Look,” he barked, getting right in my face. “I don’t know where Brooke is. I didn’t take her. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here—but I can’t help you figure it out if you don’t stop.”
“It doesn’t matter how many times you say it,” I barked right back. “I don’t believe you!”
Dragging me hard against him, he leaned in until his lips brushed mine and his golden-brown eyes were the only thing I could see. “I couldn’t have done this because I wasn’t here—I was following you home.”
Following… “What?”
He released me, practically throwing my hands away. “I was following you from work. I came into the house after you. I couldn’t have done this.”
But my adrenaline-saturated brain wasn’t getting it. “You followed me. From work?” I realized I was rubbing my aching wrists and forced myself to stop.No sign of weakness.“Why? How?” I shook my head hard. “How long have you been following me?”
“Long enough to know your daughter’s name is Brooke. To know everything there is to know about her and you. What I don’t know is who took her. At least not yet.”
My stomach lurched, probably for a number of reasons—adrenaline, fear, confusion, and the sick certainty that my daughter was out there somewhere with someone who didn’t care about her, someone who might hurt her. Someone who could disappear with her, and I would never see her again.
I barely made it to the hall bathroom before I threw up.
“Leah—”
“Out!” I shrieked. Surprisingly Remi retreated to the hall, giving me a few moments of semi-privacy to clean up the mess I’d made.
It wasn’t until I began a quiet search of the cabinet for anything I could use as a weapon that he reappeared. “Not a good idea.”
I allowed myself a moment to slump against the counter before straightening. “You’re not going to convince me that you’re a good guy, Remi. I’ve met your family, remember? They kidnapped me. You are fully capable of kidnapping a child. Just tell me where Brooke is and I’ll do whatever you want.”
A tick in his jaw was the only sign that what I’d just said might make him feel something, anything. Whatever it was, he fought it back. “I’m not going to waste time arguing with you anymore. You need to pack a bag.”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t stay here.”
I threw up my hands. “And where do you suggest I go?” Not that I was going anywhere, especially with him. Brooke had been taken from here. I needed to be here in case her kidnappers came back. “I need to call the police, get them looking for her. I need to find her.”
Remi grabbed the doorjamb on either side, the position both blocking my path and emphasizing the obscene size of his biceps and pecs. I forced my eyes to stay on his face, to stare him down no matter how much my insides felt like Jell-O.
“You already know what’s happened to her, don’t you?” he mused.
“I don’t.” And I didn’t, not specifics anyway. That didn’t mean I had no clue who was behind it. Hadn’t feared something like this for years. I’d gotten complacent, though, allowed my guard down. Too soon, it seemed.
“You do,” he said again, eyes narrowing when I tightened my lips. “You don’t have to stay here, Leah. Whoever this is, they know how to get in touch with you. They will, when they’re ready. Won’t they?”
“And in the meantime?” I asked, ignoring his question. What was happening to my baby while they decided when they’d “be ready”?
“In the meantime—”
The ring of a phone cut Remi off, the sound originating from his pocket. Glancing from me to it, he fished the cell from his jeans and lifted it so I could see the white UNKNOWN flashing on the black screen. I reached for the phone.
“I don’t think so,” Remi said, pulling back just in time for my fingers to barely brush the edge. Turning the phone to himself, he clicked to answer the call, then clicked Speaker.
And waited.
“Leah?”
My heart slammed into my ribs. I staggered back to sit on the closed toilet seat, gripping the edges like they could keep me upright and sane—except I didn’t think that was possible. Not anymore.
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