Page 63 of Broken Surrender
Maybe I could even help him do it. Somehow. In my own way. If that meant being a sacrifice to the Marked Blooms Syndicate again, then so be it. I wanted to help him.
“I’m going to go,” I shouted over the machines to Gina, “but I’ll come back soon. Visit more!”
“You better!” she yelled. “Text me next time. I’ll take my lunch!”
Once Gina wandered into the back room, I dug through my purse and stuffed hundred-dollar bills into the tip jar. I quickly exited the store. I scanned the parking lot, ready to go home, back to Desmond. But my car wasn’t there. The parking space was empty.
Had I forgotten where I had parked?
Three men stepped forward, coming into my peripherals. I gripped my hand firmly around my keys, ready to strike.
“Mrs. Dalton,” a mellow voice said. The grayish hair, the angular chin. Floyd Vaughn. The shadow of a lamppost crossed over his eyes. I recognized him.
He was the man who had broken into my bedroom.
“Vaughn,” I said, stepping backward. “What are you doing?” I frantically glanced around, but the men cornered me in every direction. “Where’s my car?”
“Your husband will be declared dead soon, and you know what he left in his will?” Vaughn stepped closer to me. “You, his darling Lena, belong to Shin & Co Inc now. And we’ve been waiting to retest you on the newest batch of Eros.”
My heart raced. I stabbed my keys forward, but the men grabbed me, gripping my arms so tight that I screamed. They bound my wrists in cuffs, throwing me into the back of the van. I twisted around, hoping I could click that button in my pocket.
CHAPTER 22
Desmond
In my bedroom, I tossed clothes into the suitcase, not bothering to fold anything. I wanted to move on. To get the hell out of here. The arm of a shirt hung limply over the edge, a pair of socks lying next to it. I shoveled it all inside, then zipped it up, heading to the bathroom for toiletries.
A throat cleared. I should have said something to Corinne about getting too confident, but since we had doubled security after Lena was attacked, I didn’t say a word. I wasn’t going to engage in a petty conversation like that right now.
“Des?” Corinne finally asked. I ignored her, swiping my toothbrush and razor from the top of the counter, chucking them into my bag. “Desmond Patrick Callen, would you stop for a second?”
I swung around. I blinked, my eyes bloodshot. What did she want this time?
“Whoa there. Calm down, buddy,” Corinne said, backing away, lifting her hands. “It’s just me. Your little sister.”
“What do you want?”
She forced a smile, her teeth smacking together. “All right.” She straightened, then tilted her head. “Are yousureyou don’t want to invite Lena to our impromptu beach trip?”
I went back to the drawers. Mouthwash. Floss. Deodorant. Aftershave.
“She told me she’d love to visit a tropical island as much as I did,” Corinne rambled. “She hasn’t been to one either.”
That was her problem, not ours. “She made her choice,” I said.
“Did she though?”
I scowled, letting out a deep breath. “She said not to follow her.”
“And you think she meant that?” Corinne laughed. “Come on, Des. She probably just wanted some space to think about your ‘diabolical plan.’” She bent her fingers in air quotes. “Everyone needs space sometimes.”
“And she got her space,” I muttered.
“But she was good for you, and you know it.”
My hand lingered on the countertop, my eyes glued to a toy cleaner. She wasn’t good for me, but she was my beautiful distraction, and she was by my side, even when I made her do horrible things. Even when I didn’t deserve her.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. I carried the suitcase past Corinne to the entryway. My driver loaded the luggage. I gestured to Corinne. “Where’s your bag?”
