Page 35 of The Captive
Lana jumped as the wheels connected with the runway, causing the plane to bounce and shudder until it finally came to a complete stop.On the other side of the lavish cabin, Deacon sat next to Tango, and she noticed that both men wore the same serious expression.They didn’t look happy about this latest development.
Neither was she.
And she certainly wasn’t happy with what had happened last night in the cabin.When she’d nearlyseducedDeacon.
What had she been thinking?
Nothing at all.
No, she hadn’t been thinking last night.Rick Garrison’s senseless death had sent her reeling, placed her in a severe state of shock that left her numb and unable to conjure up a single rational thought.Even now, the memory of Garrison’s lifeless body caused her pulse to race.Le Clair had murdered that poor man in cold blood, and no matter what Deacon said, she knew she’d be saddled with Garrison’s death on her conscience for the rest of her life.
Her hands went cold as the ominous knowledge settled over her like a thick patch of fog.A man had died because of her.
No, because of herfather.The one person she’d always stood by, given her unconditional love to, no matter how badly he screwed things up with her mother and siblings.Why hadn’t her father found a way to rescue her already?
The anger coursing through her came as a total shock.As a child, she’d idolized her dad.As an adult, she’d rationalized his mistakes, tried to see the best in him despite his many flaws.
Maybe she’d been wrong to do that.It was definitely getting harder to ignore everything Hank Kelley had done, especially now.Her father had cheated on her mother.He’d selfishly hurt his wife and Lana’s older brothers.And he’d hurt her, too, over the years, no matter how much she tried to deny it.He hadn’t even shown up for her college graduation, for Pete’s sake.But she’d forgiven him, of course.
She always forgave him, she realized bitterly.Always gave him the benefit of the doubt, even when her older brothers laughed at her for doing it, teasing her for being an idealistic fool.
But this…could she forgive her father forthis?She’d been a prisoner for more than a month, and what was her dad doing?Sitting at home drinking his favorite bourbon while he continually refused to pay her ransom?
Why wasn’t hedoingsomething, damn it?
Lana resisted the urge to cradle her belly.She’d been doing that too often lately, and was fearful that Deacon would start to pick up on the shielding gesture.
So what if he does?
The thought made her hesitate.Maybe it was time to tell Deacon the truth about the baby.She’d been dragging her feet for weeks, but now that the situation seemed to be escalating into something that sent a chill to her bones, she might need to be completely honest with Deacon.
Another SUV greeted them at the airstrip, and Lana was shoved into the backseat.Still not blindfolded, though, which was a relief.She stared glumly out the tinted window as the familiar scenery whizzed by.The car cruised right by Capitol Hill then veered north, finally coming to a stop on a narrow street near Stanton Park.Low-rise apartment buildings lined each side of the sidewalk.Echo, who was in the driver’s seat, drove into an underground parking lot beneath one of the buildings.
The sheer nerve of it amazed her.They were hiding her in plain sight.No isolated cabin this time, but in the heart of the U.S.capital.These men were either very foolish or very smart.
Le Clair hadn’t come with them this time.He’d slid into another SUV with Oscar at the airstrip, saying he had a few things to take care of.Lana hoped that meant he was contacting her father again, setting up some kind of exchange, but the nagging twisting of her insides told her she might be hoping for too much.
The four remaining men—Deacon, Echo, Kilo and Tango—clustered around her as they walked into the elevator in the underground.The car dinged and stopped on the third floor, and then she was being led into a spacious apartment with cream-colored walls, modern furnishings and thick white carpeting.
“Who lives here?”she couldn’t help but ask.
None of the men replied.Deacon had her suitcase tucked under one strong arm.He gestured for her to follow him, taking her down the brightly lit hallway toward a bedroom in the back.The master bedroom, judging by the size, and a refreshing change from her previous accommodations.This room was large and airy, with a huge four-poster bed and bright turquoise comforter, a cozy living area with a couch and love seat, and an enormous bathroom off to the left.
“You’ll be more comfortable now,” he said.
She fixed him with a cool stare.“I’m still a prisoner.A fancy room isn’t going to change that.”
What looked like remorse flickered in his hazel eyes.“I’m sorry.”
She got the feeling he was apologizing for a lot more than simply her current state of captivity.
“How much longer is this going to last, Deacon?”Shespoke in a dull voice, not even able to muster up anger anymore.
“I don’t know.”
“Another week?Another month?”
“I don’t know.”
