Chapter Fifteen

Still reeling over everything Keith said about her mom and his dad’s sordid love affair and trying to digest it all, Joanna fought to keep her angry words in check. The last thing she wanted was to fuel the fire. Clearly, Keith had lost touch with reality. And from what she could gather, his slip had happened a long time ago.

She gazed down at the unconscious man in her lap. So many emotions expanded and swirled within her chest. And the more she let her mind go back to that wild and crazy college night, the more memories surfaced. The details of the make out session in his bedroom where he’d turned her down cold. Laughing with him over a late-night pizza and even enjoying a cup of coffee sometime in the wee hours of the morning.

They’d talked, too. A lot. About things she’d never told anyone before. About her dad and how controlling he was. About her mom and how she’d left without so much as an explanation. About how she had no desire to be a lawyer. And he’d told her how he’d kept tabs on her back at home in Bram. Wanted to talk to her, ask her out, but knew his background and run-ins with the law wouldn’t work in his favor.

Why the hell had he been so easy to talk to? It had to be the tequila. That’s why it had been so easy to push it all from her mind. It wasn’t real.

The vehicle slowed, turning into a darkened driveway. Rows and rows of warehouses lined the horizon, lit by the eerie glow of the moonlight.

“Where are we, Keith?”

He didn’t answer. The driver’s side door opened, and he exited without a word. She watched him walk up to the warehouse in front of them and put a key into a lock. Then the door lifted and light illuminated the area, revealing a large room filled with boxes, barrels, and lots of miscellaneous furniture.

Keith slid back behind the wheel and steered the SUV inside, coming to a stop in the middle of the warehouse then closing the door behind them. “We’re here,” he said, in a voice eerily similar to the little girl in the blockbuster ghost movie that scared the shit out of her as a teenager.

“Where is here?” Joanna’s skin crawled beneath her scalp.

“Here is where we start our new life together. Where we end the past for good.” He exited the truck and slammed the door, making it crystal clear he had no desire to hear her deny his proclamation.

Her heart raced. Did he really believe she would go along with his craziness? Then it hit her. The reason he’d let Ryker live. He meant to use him as a bargaining chip, a surefire way to get her to do exactly as he asked.

No. She gazed down at him.

Blinked back tears. And knew she’d do anything to save his life.

When she looked up, Keith stood inches outside her door, watching her through the window. She straightened uneasily in her seat. So much for keeping her feelings hidden.

His mouth twisted in disapproval but he said nothing. Opening the door, he motioned for her to get out.

“What about—”

“He stays.” His eyes drilled into her soul.

She started to say more, but he shook his head, pointing to the door at the top of the stairs across the room. Bright lights filtered through the blinds on the window. “We have a few details to work out. He’ll be fine here. Looks like you did a really nice job of bandaging him up.”

Without another word, she eased Ryker’s head from her lap, resting it on the seat. Refusing to take the hand Keith offered, she used the car door for support instead and lifted herself out of the vehicle. Once her feet hit the dirty concrete floor, she braced herself for what would follow.

“You really shouldn’t be so easy. You’re a master at playing hard to get. What the shit does he have that I don’t?” He urged her forward with the palm of his hand. “Wait. Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter.”

“I wish you’d be reasonable. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” He laughed. “You’ve never hurt me. Frustrated the hell out of me, yes. But hurt me, no. We’ve been through a lot together, and I know how difficult it is to let someone in. Especially after suffering like we have. That’s what makes us so perfect for each other.”

Perfect for each other? God, she was going to be ill.

He talked about their future plans, and she kept looking for a way out. A weapon she could use. Something to turn the tables on him.

There were many different items crammed in the stuffy warehouse. It smelled somewhat like a furniture store except for the sour odor she got a whiff of every now and then. From mismatched furniture that looked expensive, to boxes filled with books, files, and electronics, the entire room screamed stolen goods and leftovers from businesses gone under. But it was the strange-looking barrels in the corner under the stairwell that worried her most. They looked like those found on a warehouse dock, all marked with a hazardous waste symbol.

She put a hand to her mouth to stifle the sound of her fears over the possibility Keith’s plans might be to hurt more innocent people on a larger scale. This isn’t happening.

“Don’t do this,” she said softly, completely mortified by the ideas running through her head.

He started up the first two steps and then turned back, a matter-of-fact expression on his face. “The outcome depends on you.”

His nonchalant attitude made her want to scream. This was no freaking game.

“You, my dear, have the power to make this all disappear with one simple word.”

She studied his face. Whatever wicked plans circulated in that demented head of his, she didn’t care to know. How many innocent people had to die? Keeping his focus off Ryker remained her top priority. “Is my father here?”

He looked her up and down. “I’m offering you the world. Anything your little heart desires. And you’re still worried about your father. The man who never once showed you an ounce of love or cared about what you wanted from life. Why the hell is that?”

Whether Keith liked it or not, she loved her father, even after all the heartache he’d put her through growing up. “He’s my father. I just want to make sure he’s okay. I know all about Denise and your petty schemes remember?”

“Let me get one thing straight. Denise messed this shit up with her impatience and greed. I’d been watching her at these fancy parties for months. Figured out her game. So I decided to use it to benefit us. Blackmailing her was a means to an end, that’s all. She met your father at some charity event over the summer, and I told her to be real friendly, make sure they hit it off. I wanted her to get close to him for the formula, but she decided to take him on as her next mark without my knowledge.”

“Why should I believe you?” Her heart broke as she thought about the innocent men who’d died at Denise’s hand.

“Because I’ve never lied to you.” His gaze drilled into hers. “I’ve always been there for you. Supporting you. Listening to your dreams. Loving you in secret.” His throat caught on the words, and he turned around, gripping the metal railing so tightly the sound of his ring scraping against the surface made her teeth ache. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Never lied to her. Was he serious? She knew of at least one time and bet there’d been plenty more. Her chest pinched.

“Your father’s waiting. And I need that code to open those files. He’ll give it to you.”

Tears misted her eyes. Her dad was here. Probably in bad shape, if they needed her to make him reveal the security code, but at least he was still alive. Relief rushed her weary body. Keeping her emotions in check, she followed him up the staircase without another word. Her thoughts swarmed with unanswered questions.

Had Keith been watching her every move, stalking her all these years? The times he’d ended up at the right place at the right time, were they more than just coincidence? Good grief, this was messed up. Maybe Keith had an evil twin she knew nothing about. That would be more plausible.

Keith opened the door at the top of the stairs, stepping to the side of the platform to let her enter first. She didn’t hesitate. She wanted to see her father.

The dusty, dingy room held one large desk in the center, a ratty-looking leather sofa on the wall across from it. Several empty boxes littered the floor on the opposite wall, those little white packing peanuts scattered about as if the contents were removed in haste. She blinked through the murky light, hoping it was just her mind playing tricks on her.

“Where is he?” She turned to look over her shoulder, catching the surprise on Keith’s face.

“Denise?” Keith moved past her, taking stock of the room. “Damn it. If that bitch went against my orders again, I’ll kill her with my bare hands.”

Joanna fought to stay calm. Her chest ached. Her heart pounded in her ears.

“I swear. They were supposed to bring him here. Stubborn old fool wouldn’t give it up, but he’ll talk to protect you.”

“What made you believe you could trust her in the first place? I’ve known her for six months, and it was clear she had ulterior motives. I just didn’t know her motives would prove deadly.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he jerked his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing a number and placing the phone to his ear, avoiding eye contact. “Come on… Come on.” A few breathless seconds passed and then, “Where the hell are you, Denise?”

Anger grew on his features. “You know what this means don’t you?”

Another bout of excruciating silence followed as he listened. “What hospital?”

Oh, dear God. No. It took all the strength she had to keep standing. “What’s wrong?”

He ended the call with a growl. Then lifted his gaze to hers. “I’m so sorry.”

…

Ryker woke with one killer headache. Not to mention the pain jolting through his shoulder with every beat of his heart. Shit. He needed drugs. Lifting his head off the leather seat, he tried to pinpoint his location. As he searched the vehicle’s interior, clarity hit.

“Jo Jo?” God, his mouth felt dry. Where was she? How long had he been out? Was he too late?

His heart rate accelerated, giving him the energy to force his body up to a sitting position. That’s when he noticed the first aid kit on the floor.

Got to be painkillers in there, right?

He reached for the white box with his left hand, immediately regretting the move as a new thunderbolt of pain shot through his body. Son of a bitch. He rocked back and forth in the seat, willing the brutal attack to stop. When it subsided enough for him to move again, he twisted at the waist, reaching down for the box with his right hand and pulled it to his lap. One quick glance out the windows to make sure the coast was clear, and he had the kit opened as well as the bottle of liquid gel capsules that would give him the relief he so desperately needed. He swallowed two. Waited. Then two more. As the pills eased down his throat, he tried to put the pieces of the past few hours together.

Shot at least twice. That sucked. But it had to be a small caliber, due to the minimal damage. He’d heard Jo Jo say “through and through.” The idea the bullet wasn’t still lodged inside his shoulder gave him some peace of mind. And it felt low enough to have only hit muscle. Another good sign.

He’d be sore as hell but live to tell about it. Unless infection set in. He surveyed the bandages on his shoulder and leg. Looked like the bleeding had stopped. And by the blood-soiled rags on the floorboard, it appeared his wounds had been cleaned before they were dressed.

At that moment, he realized what the metallic smell was filling his nostrils. His blood. He clenched both fists to fight off the jolts of pain and nausea racking his body. There was a lethal injection with Keith Coleman’s name on it. He’d take him down and see to it he got the needle he deserved if it was the last thing he did.

Ryker shifted his weight slowly toward the door. First off, he needed to hide. Find a way to radio in for backup.

The latch clicked as he pulled the handle, and the door eased open just enough for him to slip out onto the cement. The minute he put weight on his feet, he grimaced at the agony shooting up his left leg. Taking a deep breath, he leaned his back against the door, closing it just enough for it to latch so the interior lights would go off. Once back in control, he limped across the room to a row of boxes stacked against the wall where he’d have enough room to maneuver behind them.

Voices floated above him. He immediately recognized Jo Jo’s distressed tone.

The boxes gave him the perfect cover as he leaned around the edge, his attention riveted on the office at the top of the metal staircase.

Through the blinds, two shadowy figures stood inches apart. One bigger than the other. Odd. The smaller of the two didn’t appear restrained in any way. Was it Jo Jo or someone else?

He listened closer, trying to decipher their words. But he only managed to comprehend the last one.

“No!”

His entire body stiffened at the sound of Jo Jo’s scream. He suppressed the urge to rush up the stairs and crush Keith to the ground. In his current state, all he could rationally hope to do was buy her time.

He had no clue where the bastard had taken them. Had they left Houston? Damn it. He needed to find a phone—Keith had taken his. Not much hope of locating a working one in this dump. Looking around at the broken windowpanes, rusty beams, and filth-covered floor, he was surprised the old warehouse had electricity.

Moonlight filtered in through the dirty glass of the windows at least fifteen feet above his head. Even with a way to reach them from the inside, it would be suicide to jump to the ground from that height. He looked down at his tattered, blood-covered shirt and one-legged jeans. Who was he kidding? He’d be lucky to make it out the first floor.

The door above opened. “He’s stable, Joanna. I’m sure the doctors will take good care of him.”

Ryker tried to melt into the wall.

“I want to see him, Keith.”

“That’s not happening.”

The metal stairs creaked beneath the weight as the pair descended.

“I’m not going anywhere with you until I know my father is okay.”

Ryker heard the swing before contact was made, and his entire body tensed. The sound of Jo Jo’s whimper had acid eating at the lining of his stomach as fury burned. Shit. Shit. Shit. The SOB struck her. Forget the lethal injection. He’d kill the piece of shit way before that.

“Aw…hell. Now look what you made me do, Joanna. God, I’m sorry. I never meant to hit you. This has all gotten out of hand. Forgive me. You will, won’t you? Say you forgive me.”

Well, that was weird as hell. Keith sounded all of four years old. And it wasn’t an act.

“Yes, I forgive you,” Jo Jo said in a low whispered voice. “I promise to do exactly what you want. Go wherever you say. I have two requests. Let me see my father. And let Ryker go.”

Keith huffed down his next breath. “Sounds easy enough, doesn’t it? If you only knew how difficult that last one was, believe me, you’d ask for a pony instead.”

Damn. What would Keith do when he found Ryker gone? Clearly, the man’s brain worked on few marbles. Out of fear for Jo Jo, he searched for a better hiding place, a place to give him a better vantage point.

As if fate decided to change sides, he saw the huge air vent mere inches from where he sat scrunched on the floor. Quietly, he made his move.

“Keith, I know you think—”

“Shh… Did you hear that?”

Shit.