Page 66 of The Survivor
Rick shook his head unhappily. “Dead in an alley off the Loop. Wearing nothing but his underwear. Fantana’s put an ABP out on Benson’s missing cruiser.”
Rather than respond, Blake clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw ached from the pressure. Swallowing back his rage, he put the car into gear and sped away from the station. With the sirens on, he figured they could make the forty-five-minute drive in half the time.
“You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?”
Rick’s voice was quiet, but his words were so startling Blake’s foot jerked on the gas pedal, pushing it down harder and causing the car to shoot forward.
“That isn’t any of your business,” he ground out, steadying the car’s speed.
“It is if you plan on going all Rambo to save the swimsuit model in your bed.” Rick released a heavy breath. “Jesus, Blake. What were you thinking? You know better than to get involved with a witness. No, avictim.”
His eyes flashed. “She’s not a victim. She’s awoman. And she’s stronger than the both of us, you son of a bitch, so talk about her with respect.”
Rick blanched. “Hey, hold up, man. I have nothing but the utmost respect for Samantha Dawson. Don’t go twisting my words around.”
He changed lanes without signaling, whizzing onto the highway ramp while avoiding his partner’s shocked—and hurt—gaze. He didn’t give a damn if Rick’s feelings were hurt.Samwas the one hurting at the moment.
“I’m sorry,” Rick finally burst out. “I’m sorry it sounded like I was lecturing or reprimanding you. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page so we can rescue Samantha without any screwups, okay?”
Blake drew in a calming breath. Difficult, seeing as he was feeling anything but calm. Frantic, was more like it. And scared. So goddamn scared he couldn’t even focus on the road in front of him.
“We’re on the same page,” he finally squeezed out. “I won’t screw this up. I won’t let what happened to Kate happen to Sam, all right?”
Rick looked shocked. “That wasn’t what I was implying.” He sighed. “What happened to Kate wasn’t your fault. I was hoping you’d figured that out by now.”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t do this right now. Couldn’t think about Kate and what took place in that warehouse a year ago. If he did, he would lose the last shred of control he had left, and at the moment, that control was barely a thread and it was ready to snap.
His silence ended the conversation and fortunately Rick didn’t push it. The drive took them thirty minutes. The greenhouse was located north of the city, in an isolated area flanked by forest on one side, and near a stretch of farmland and a handful of industrial buildings, including a lumber mill that had been closed for years.
They left the SUV half a mile from their destination and entered the woods from the road. It couldn’t have been five minutes before the trees cleared and the greenhouse came into view.
Though old and isolated, it was an amazing structure. The afternoon sun bounced off the enormous windows, the layer ofdirt covering the glass sparkling under the light. The scent of flowers carried in the wind and wafted toward them, making Blake’s nostrils burn. Sam was being held prisoner in there, at the mercy of a man whose reason and sanity had gone missing years ago.
His hand rested on his .38 and he slowly slid the weapon from its holster.
“I’ll take the front,” he said in a low voice. “You go around the back.”
Rick nodded. His boots scarcely made a sound as he moved across the twigs and snow to the edge of the greenhouse.
Blake inhaled the chilly air. He found himself saying a silent prayer, something he hadn’t done since he was a child.
Then he crept toward the glass structure, his fingers curled around the gun in his hand.
Sam gulped for air, desperately trying to swallow the debilitating horror glued to her throat. With a chuckle, the monster moved closer and closer, until he was kneeling down beside the cot.
“I’m sorry, Annie, but I have to make you pay.” Regret flashed across his face. “I hate to do this.”
“Thendon’t.”
She batted at him with her bound hands but he easily avoided the useless blows and pushed her fists against her stomach with one hand. “Don’t make this difficult,” he hissed, his regret morphing into fury.
The red eyes. Oh, dear God, those red eyes.
She cried out as his other hand, the hand holding that gleaming knife, dipped lower and lower until it hovered inches from her collarbone. “Ilovedyou.” He dragged the blade over the collar of her cotton T-shirt. “But you betrayed me. They all betrayed me—the army said I wasn’t needed anymore, cops keptme from being one of them—but your betrayal, Anne, yours was the worst, and now you’ll have pay.”
He sliced the top of her shirt with the tip of the knife. The seams hissed as they tore apart. He placed the cold steel against her trembling skin.
“So I have a present for you,” he continued, those wild red eyes searing her. “Last time I tried to be generous. I only gave you one rose, in honor of the tattoo—you know how much I hated that tattoo, Annie?” His voice hardened. “This time I’m going to give you twenty-four roses, just like your lover did. But my roses will be the ones that last forever.”
