Blake cut Kyle a damning look. “I thought we had the exterior of the building covered. How did someone get to her?”
“They came out from behind a dumpster,” Kyle explained. “We never caught them on camera before that.”
Blood rushed in his ears and he flexed his fingers, fighting the urge to shake Kyle for letting this happen. “How the fuck did we not see them? And why did she leave in the first place?”
“You want to see this,” Kyle said, punching a keyboard. Another smaller screen lit up with an image of Kara. Blake squatted by Kyle, watching Kara take a call, and he saw the panic in her face, the calculation and fear in her eyes.
“Whatever they said to her, she felt like she couldn’t communicate with us,” Luke said.
“Thanks for pointing out the goddamn fucking obvious,” Blake spat. “Why don’t you point out how fucking stupid I was to let her come here today too, while you’re at it?”
“Blake—”
“Shut up, Luke. Just shut the fuck up.” Blake ran a hand through his hair and held it there. His scalp was splintering with pain. His chest was tight. Kara couldn’t die. Why the hell had he let her come today? Why? Why? Why? He was coming unglued at the seams. He leaned on the wall, fighting the adrenaline of fear and failing. He punched the wall and welcome pain radiated up his arm. Luke shouted something at him but he tuned it out. He was already throwing another fist. His knuckles hit steel and there was more pain, but it wasn’t enough to stop the image of Whitney bleeding out from the throat, or how her faced morphed into Kara’s. Kara. He was going to lose Kara, too. He reared back to hit the wall again and Luke grabbed his arm. Blake whirled on him and shoved him but Luke grabbed handfuls of his shirt.
“Blake, damn it,” Luke ground out. “Stop. Stop now.”
“If it were your wife, would you stop? Would you fucking stop, Luke?”
“You can’t save her if your hand is broken and you’re climbing out of your own skin. Get a grip, Blake. Get a fucking grip now.”
Blake sucked in a deep breath and let it out, and he suddenly became aware of his shaking. Jesus. He was shaking all over. He was out of control. He inhaled, and slowly, somehow, pulled himself back from the edge. Luke seemed to realize it, loosening his hold on Blake’s shirt and letting it fall away.
Blake turned away from his brother and lifted the lid to a locker sitting beside the tech setup, pulling out a shoulder holster and two Glocks. The cold steel didn’t come close to matching the ice in his veins. He should have killed Alvarez when he had the chance. He was taking Kara back and making sure that bastard never took another breath.
***
Kara blinked awake to the sound of soft music playing and intense throbbing in her head. For a moment, she couldn’t remember what had happened, but a rush of memories filled her mind. She sat up and blinked and then blinked again. She had to be dreaming, because not only did she appear to be in a sitting area of an office with a fireplace crackling in a full orange glow to her right, but her sister was sitting across from her. And, impossibly, Myla didn’t look bruised and beaten. She looked perfectly fine. She was also sitting next to Alvarez, smiling up at him, her hand resting on his leg.
“Myla?” Kara whispered.
Myla turned, her green eyes lighting with excitement. “You’re awake.” She jumped up from her seat and rushed past the shiny mahogany coffee table separating them to throw her arms around Kara’s neck. “I’ve missed you.”
Kara hugged her sister and whispered, “What’s going on?”
Myla leaned back, her green eyes aglow, her long, silky brunette hair groomed to perfection. “I found out you were looking for me and I wanted you to know I’m okay. Kara, I’m in love. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”
“In love? With who? Ignacio?”
Myla laughed, and Kara noted the dress her sister had on was a clearly very expensive silver sheath no waitress could afford. “Ignacio?” Myla asked. “Oh God, no.” She motioned to Alvarez.
Kara looked at Alvarez and gaped. He arched a brow. “Is there a problem, Kara?”
“Yes,” Kara said. “Yes, there is.” She turned to Myla. “We need to talk alone.”
“Michael is with me, Kara. I’m with him.”
“Michael?” Kara asked. “You call him by his first name?”
Myla took Kara’s hand. “I want you to come back with me. Spend some time with me and Michael and see what life can be like for us.”
“Back with you? Back where?”
“She can’t tell you that,” Alvarez said. “Not until we know you’re with us.”
“I’m not with you. I’ll never be with you.” Kara’s hands went to her sister’s face. “Listen to me. Whatever he threatened you with—”
“I love him, Kara. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”
Kara shook her head. “No.” Myla’s words didn’t ring true. Not in her tone. Not from her sister. Myla hated crime. She hated everything associated with its poison. “No, I don’t believe you. Our parents—”
“Michael would kill anyone who tried to hurt us.”
There was a coldness to her tone that Kara barely recognized from her sister. “Do you know who and what he is?”
“You don’t know all there is to know about him.” She took Kara’s hand again. “I need you in my life.”
“I can’t be in your life if you’re with him. I won’t.”
Tears suddenly pooled in Myla’s eyes. “I don’t want to say goodbye to you.” She wrapped her arms around Kara, holding her as if she was clinging for life.
“Please don’t stay with him,’ Kara whispered.
“I have to,” Myla whispered. “You have to see that.”
Was there torment in her words? Kara leaned back to try to read her sister, but Myla pushed away and stood up. “Goodbye, Kara,” she said, and the tears were gone.
Alvarez stepped beside Myla, taking her hand in his. “You will be escorted back to your hotel, Kara.”
Hotel? He’d said hotel, not apartment. He knew where she’d been staying? The door to the office opened and a man with a well-equipped shoulder holster stepped inside. Myla and Alvarez turned away and Kara’s heart lurched. “Myla, wait!”
Myla turned. “You’ll come?”
“No. Don’t go.”
“I have to go.” She walked toward the man with the gun and he held the door open.
Kara took a step forward, but the man stepped in front of Myla and Alvarez and placed his hand on his weapon. Law Enforcement 101 replayed in her mind. Bullets didn’t believe in second chances. All Kara could do was watch the door shut and feel helpless.
Seconds turned into minutes and she didn’t move. She just stood there, staring at the man with the gun, him staring back at her. Suddenly, a roaring sound filled the room, radiating through the ceiling. A helicopter. Myla was leaving on a helicopter. Panic rushed over Kara. She could never track Myla if she left by sky. Her mind raced, seeking a solution, but before she could come up with one, the door behind her burst open. The man guarding her whirled around and pulled his gun. A second later he was on the ground and Blake was holding the gun that had put him there.
“Myla!” Kara screamed, running towards him. “The chopper!”
Blake handed her a gun and Kara gladly accepted it, and in the process he grabbed her and kissed her. “Don’t ever fucking scare me like this again.”
“I’ll try,” she promised. “My sister, Blake. She’s with Alvarez on that chopper.” She took off for the hallway of what appeared to be an office building, with Blake on her heels.
“Here!” he shouted, pointing at a stairwell entry.
The charge up the four flights of steps was eternal, and they cleared the door and made their way to the roof too late. The chopper was lifting off. Kara slumped in defeat. “No. No. No.” She turned to Blake and shouted. “Alvarez is with her. He has her. He—” A blast sounded and Kara and Blake both turned to watch the chopper go up in flames.
br /> Shock surged through Kara and the gun fell from her hand. She began to shake, and she couldn’t catch her breath. “No. No. Nononononono.” And then her knees gave way and she was falling. Blake caught her to him and she grabbed his shirt, tears streaming down her cheeks, a waterfall she couldn’t control. “Save her. Please. I…Please. Help her, Blake. You have to help her.”
He pulled her tight against him and hugged her, and she clung to him, the only strength she had left. “I’m here, Kara. I’m here.”
But Myla was gone.
Chapter Seven
After hours of officials swarming the secluded office building off the San Francisco shoreline, feeling hollow and stunned, Kara sat in the back seat of a van. Blake was beside her, practically attached to her side, acting like he’d never let her go again. And she needed that. She needed him. Without Blake, she wouldn’t even be sitting upright, trying to survive.
“Send it to my phone,” Kyle said and ended a call, punching a button on his cell and watching something on the screen.
“You okay?” Blake asked.
Kara teased a strand of his hair, wishing she could wash the torment from his eyes. It had killed him to think she might be dead. Like losing Myla was killing her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Because of you.”
“You need to see something,” Kyle said, moving to squat in front of them.
“When you say that it’s never good,” Blake said grumpily. “Not now.”
“This time it’s good,” Kyle insisted.
“Nothing can be good right now, Kyle,” Kara said, and when she thought she was done crying, her eyes burned all over again.
“Watch this,” Kyle insisted, shoving his phone at her and Blake.
“Kyle…” Blake started.
“Just watch,” Kyle repeated.
Blake grimaced and punched the “play” button. An image of Alvarez climbing into a car had Kara sitting up straighter, her heart racing as Myla appeared behind him and paused to glance up at the flame-filled sky. She whispered something Kara couldn’t make out and disappeared into the car. “Oh my God,” Kara murmured as the screen went blank, her gaze lifting to Kyle’s. “She’s alive? Myla’s alive?”
“She’s alive,” Kyle assured her. “The explosion was a setup to make us think she and Alvarez were dead.”
“How’d you get this?” Kara asked.
“As soon as we arrived,” he explained, “I set up surveillance and one of the cameras wouldn’t download. Luke just got it to roll.”
Kara looked at Blake, a new kind of pain filling her. “What is it?” he asked, stroking her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s not a prisoner.” It hurt her heart to say it out loud. “Myla’s with Alvarez by choice. She told me she loves him. She’s alive, but I’ve still lost her.”
“No,” he said. “He’s brainwashed her. We’ll get her back.” He slid a hand to her neck and rested his forehead against hers. “You and me, sweetheart. We’ll find a way.”
***
The ringing of a cell phone pierced the silence of the dark hotel room and beside her, Blake groaned and reached for it on the nightstand. Two days had passed since she last saw Myla, and every clue to finding her again had come up empty. It was as if her sister and Alvarez had really died in that crash.
Kara sat up as Blake murmured, “Yeah,” into the phone and climbed out of bed. Now that she was awake, the image of the helicopter blowing up played in her mind again, as it had a million times over. It didn’t matter that Myla hadn’t been in the explosion. Kara kept reliving the moment she thought she was, the moment she was sure her sister was dead.
In nothing but Blake’s shirt, Kara stepped onto the chilly balcony and rested her hands on the rail, staring out at the twinkling lights of the Golden Gate Bridge without really seeing them. How could Myla put her through so much hell? Did her sister really love Alvarez that much and her so little?
The door opened behind her and Blake slipped a robe over her shoulders. “You’re going to freeze. What are you doing out here?”
Kara slipped her arms into the giant terry garment and turned to let him tie it, noting he’d thrown on nothing but a t-shirt with his boxers. “You’re going to freeze, too.”
“I’m not worried about me,” he said, wrapping her in his arms. “I’m worried about you. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Who called at whatever ungodly hour this is?”
“Two o’clock,” he supplied, “and it was Royce. The Coast Guard picked up Ignacio off the coast of Mexico on a boat full of drugged women. He’s singing like a bird. The feds are raiding Mendez’s operation tomorrow and closing down the entire restaurant chain.”
“And Alvarez won’t be anywhere near here when it happens.” Which meant neither would her sister. “I don’t know how I’m going to find Myla, and do I keep trying? She doesn’t want to be saved.”
“You save her anyway. That’s what siblings are for. They look out for you, when you don’t look out for yourself. And I would know, since mine live in the same building with me and never let me forget it.”
“You live in the same building as your brothers?”
“Separate units, but the same building. Walker Security is on the bottom floor.” He stroked a hand down her hair. “Kara, I want you to come to New York with me and consider working for Walker Security.”
“Work for you?”
“Work with me. Live with me.” His eyes softened. “Marry me.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Marry you?”
“I know we haven’t known each other long, but I know all I need to know about you, Kara. But if you need time, you have it. I’ll ask you every day until you say yes, starting with today.” He went down on one knee. “Marry me, Kara.”
She smiled. “That sounded like an order.”
He smiled, a devastatingly sexy smile, and stood up, pulling her hard against him. “To hell with asking. I’m going to make you my wife.”
Kara wrapped her arms around his neck. “You know I don’t take orders well.”
“Take this one, Kara.” His voice was husky, roughened with emotion.
And once again a Walker brother made her eyes burn. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’ll—” He kissed her and Kara melted into this man who’d changed her life. This man who would never let her be alone again. This man who would be her husband.
***
Kyle had promised Kara he’d find her sister, and he’d meant it. Now, after two days of trying to decipher the audio on Myla’s video, he’d given up and called on his buddy, Jason, a twenty-seven-year-old tech genius who worked at the FBI lab, for help. Now, only a few hours after he’d handed over the tape to Jason, he was standing in Jason’s Virginia apartment, waiting for the playback.
“I’ve got visual and audio,” Jason explained. “I zoomed in on the woman’s face so you can get a better look at her eyes when she says the words. You know, the eyes are the windows to the soul.”
“Just punch the damn button,” Kyle ordered.
Jason hit a button and Myla’s image appeared on screen, zoomed in on her face, as promised. There was a look of complete anguish Kyle hadn’t been able to make out on the fuzzy video before this any more than he could her words. But this time he not only saw the pain in her face, he heard her words as she whispered, I’m so sorry, Kara.
“I’ll be damned,” Kyle muttered, scrubbing the light blond stubble he’d let sprout on his jaw. Could Myla be protecting Kara from Alvarez? Was she a victim in survival mode? Was this how she’d kept from being one of the women sold off to the highest bidder?
He glanced at Jason. “Replay it.” He watched it again. And again. After a half dozen views, with the tape in hand, he headed to his rental car. Once he was inside, he sat behind the wheel and stared ahead before he turned on the engine. “Hang in there, Myla. I’m coming for you.”
Kyle and Myla’s story coming soon. And want more Blake? He’s featured in BEING ME and REVEALING US. br />
And now a look at IF I WERE YOU….
Book 1 of THE INSIDE OUT SERIES
OPTIONED TO STARZ for cable TV with
Suzanne Todd(Alice in Wonderland w/Johnny Depp)
producing
One day I was a high school teacher on summer break, leading a relatively uneventful but happy life. Or so I told myself. Later, I’d question that, as I would question pretty much everything I knew about me, my relationships, and my desires. It all began when my neighbor thrust a key to a storage unit at me. She’d bought it to make extra money after watching some storage auction show. Now she was on her way to the airport to elope with a man she barely knew, and she needed me to clear out the unit before the lease expired.
Soon, I was standing inside a small room that held the intimate details of another woman’s life, feeling uncomfortable, as if I was invading her privacy. Why had she let these items so neatly packed, possessions that she clearly cared about deeply, be lost at an auction? Driven to find out by some unnamed force, I began to dig, to discover this woman’s life, and yes, read her journals—-dark, erotic journals that I had no business reading. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I read on obsessively, living out fantasies through her words that I’d never dare experience on my own, compelled by the three men in her life, none of whom had names. I read onward until the last terrifying dark entry left me certain that something had happened to this woman. I had to find her and be sure she was okay.
Before long, I was taking her job for the summer at the art gallery, living her life, and she was nowhere to be found. I was becoming someone I didn’t know. I was becoming her.
The dark, passion it becomes…
Now, I am working at a prestigious gallery, where I have always dreamed of being, and I’ve been delivered to the doorstep of several men, all of which I envision as one I’ve read about in the journal. But there is one man that will call to me, that will awaken me in ways I never believed possible. That man is the ruggedly sexy artist, Chris Merit, who wants to paint me. He is rich and famous, and dark in ways I shouldn’t find intriguing, but I do. I so do. I don’t understand why his dark side appeals to me, but the attraction between us is rich with velvety promises of satisfaction. Chris is dark, and so are his desires, but I cannot turn away. He is damaged beneath his confident good looks and need for control, and in some way, I feel he needs me. I need him.