Ruthless Peril_Military Romantic Suspense Page 4

  Her eyes gradually adjusted to the dark, and Tessa looked for the trunk release. She had one of the glow-in-the dark tabs in her own car, and it had always seemed silly. Who got locked in a trunk, anyway?

  No release tab. Tessa gritted her teeth and kicked at the spare tire that her legs were folded around. The car hit what could only have been a curb, and she bounced, striking her head on the trunk lid.

  “Ouch!” Trunks weren’t made for comfort. She lifted her hands toward her face so she could see what she was dealing with. A white plastic cable tie…amateur hour. She flexed her wrists, testing its strength. The guy in the hoodie had zipped it tighter than necessary to secure her hands, and her fingers tingled painfully. With an annoyed grunt, Tessa maneuvered her hands into a position that allowed her to hook a finger around her necklace.

  Cable ties were simple to escape, if you knew the right trick. She put the flat end of her necklace between her teeth and used it to press down on the tie’s locking mechanism. With a quick motion, she pulled her wrists free and flung the defeated plastic tie aside. She spat out the necklace and pulled the hair from her mouth. Her face felt crusty, so she explored her hairline carefully with her fingers, wincing as she found a cut from when she had hit the pavement.

  Tessa stopped moving and held her breath. There was shouting. “I can’t do that!”

  Over the noise of the road and the car, she strained to hear what else the man said. She moved closer to the front of the trunk and pressed her ear against the rough fabric that covered it.

  “I have to do this. I have to.” The driver was talking to someone on speakerphone, and she had no doubt the argument was about her. “It’s personal, so it’s not any of your business. You aren’t involved in this, Boss.”

  “You don’t know what you’re up against,” came a deeper male voice.

  “I can handle anything Hewitt throws at me. I’ve been watching them. Besides, I have this,” the driver of the car said.

  Tessa’s heart beat faster. He had what? A weapon? A gun?

  “We’re almost there. I just have to get the bitch inside, without anyone seeing anything or calling the cops.”

  “You’re going to fuck it up. You always fuck it up. And you’d better not drag me into your mess.”

  “Shut up! I won’t. You never think I can do anything on my own.”

  Tessa pulled away from the front of the trunk, her mind spinning with scenarios. There were two guys talking about her, but only one was in the car, so she wasn’t outnumbered. Maybe she could flirt with this idiot and distract him. Stranger things had happened.

  But what if flirtation led to rape? Kidnapping was one thing, but tying her up was sinister. Duct tape wouldn’t have been as alarming, since it was more practical and available. Using cable ties was purposeful, malicious. She rubbed her wrists to regain circulation. The marks from the plastic tie were dented into her flesh; the numbness in her fingers was just beginning to wear off.

  In the cramped space, Tessa tried to get into a more comfortable position, but it was impossible. The spare tire took up too much space, and her heels kept getting caught on other random things that took up trunk space. She kicked the tire again in frustration, and pushed against the trunk lid. Maybe the latch was broken, or weak, and she could pop it open.

  On impulse, Tessa drove her knee into the metal of the trunk. It hurt, and made a loud noise, but confirmed that the trunk was secure. Shoving it open wasn’t an option. A second later, Tessa was thrown toward the front of the trunk, against the carpeted wall separating the trunk from the interior of the car. The driver must have slammed on the brakes.

  Tessa muttered through gritted teeth, “I don’t know who you are. But when I get out of here, I’m going to kick your ass, buddy.”

  Since the car had stopped, that meant one of two things was about to happen. Either she was going to die, or she was going to be dragged somewhere and… Shut up, brain. She didn’t want to think about it. Whatever happened, that trunk lid was going to open. Tessa had to make a decision on whether she was going to kick the guy in the face and make a run for it, or go with her captor and figure out an escape plan later.

  The car door slammed and Tessa’s mouth went dry. She put her wrists together and tried to hide the fact that her hands were free. But she also angled herself so that she would be ready to lash out with her feet when the trunk opened. If she could stun him, or at least knock him away, she would have a chance to run.

  The man would likely be expecting her to be knocked out, or groggy and trapped by the cable tie. But despite her headache, Tessa was clear-eyed and pissed off. The car keys rasped against the metal of the trunk and she held her breath, then braced herself, prepared to lash out.

  The trunk creaked open and Tessa closed her eyes. She wanted her ruse to lure the man a little closer, maybe to check her pulse or the wound on her head. His cheap cologne filled her nostrils, and she gritted her teeth, trying to keep still. Fingers brushed over the wound on her forehead, and she flinched away from his touch.

  “Awake, huh? Guess you’re tougher than you loo— Fuck!”

  Tessa’s knee caught him in the elbow, and she cursed inwardly at the poorly aimed blow. But it had knocked him off balance and closer to her. Tessa balled her right hand into a fist, then whipped it out and slammed her knuckles into the man’s face, sending him stumbling backward. In the few sparring lessons Travis had given her, her boss had always praised her backhand.

  Her hand stung, and she was sure that it was cut. But she had gained an edge. The man stepped back from the car, his nose bleeding. Tessa swung her leg over the edge of the trunk and tried to pull herself out. But cramped muscles slowed her down, and jittering, adrenaline-filled nerves made her move awkwardly. The heel of her shoe caught in the spare tire, and she swore as she pulled it free.

  “Stop right fucking there!”

  Tessa heard the familiar chunky click of a loaded gun. This wasn’t a movie, and the safety was off. The man’s face was a mask of anger, and Tessa congratulated herself grimly on the trail of blood that snaked from his nostrils over his mouth and chin. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the street before wiping at his face with his sleeve. A handgun was pointed directly at her chest, and Tessa shrank back into the trunk, her hands extended in front of her.

  “Get out. Slowly. No more fucking around.” The man kept his voice quiet, but his tone was thick with rage. Tessa complied, and climbed out of the trunk. “Stay low; I don’t want anyone seeing you.”

  Tessa crouched and then gasped. The man stepped forward in a swift motion and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, crushing her against his side. The gun was pressed painfully into her ribs, and all of Tessa’s brave thoughts about running away faded into the background.

  “What are you going to do?” Tessa’s voice was shaky, and she looked around for help. But she couldn’t see anyone else on the darkened street. One thing was certain: she wasn’t downtown anymore. This was residential, and deathly quiet. There were no nearby streetlights, but the light from the porch behind her illuminated just enough for her to get a sense of the neighborhood.

  “You’re going to shut the fuck up. Now, move quietly.” The man pulled Tessa along with him, and she stumbled on her heels, wishing for the millionth time that she had chosen something a little more practical, and less cute, for the date she should have been on with Hunter.

  Where was Hunter, anyway? This was all his fault for being late. If he had been on time, this wouldn’t be happening. Tessa suppressed a cry of pain when she tripped over the tall curb, scraping her ankle on the concrete sidewalk. The man pulled her along with an angry grunt, and Tessa struggled against his grip, until the gun pressed into her ribs.

  “I don’t want to have to shoot you in the street, Mrs. Hewitt, but I will if you don’t do what I say. Your SEAL isn’t here to save you.”

  Panic rose in Tessa’s throat, and came out as a choked laugh. This guy had no idea who she was; it was all a horrible mistak
e. She turned and looked desperately into the quiet street, hoping to see the twitch of a curtain that indicated that a curious neighbor was watching, or someone was coming home late from work. But they were alone.

  “I’m not— Ow!” The gun jabbed into her ribs again, and Tessa shut her mouth. The man dragged her around the porch, pushed his shoulder into a door that opened with a high-pitched creak, then pulled her inside. Tessa narrowed her eyes, trying to make out the details of the poorly lit room.

  The galley-style kitchen was dingy, and even in the dim glow cast by the porch light, she could see that the linoleum was worn and peeling. The small refrigerator hummed loudly. Bags of garbage were piled in one corner, and Tessa wrinkled her nose at the smell.

  Her captor tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans, then yanked open a drawer and pulled out a roll of duct tape, tossing it on the dish-covered countertop. He pulled out a damaged chair from underneath a small kitchen table that looked like it hadn’t been used for a proper meal in a long time. The chair scraped and bumped over the linoleum. Tessa squirmed in her kidnapper’s grip, and she tried to twist away from him. But his fingers dug painfully into her wrist.

  Tessa stared at him incredulously. “You’re going to duct-tape me to a chair?”

  The man gritted his teeth, then prepared to do just that. He pulled the gun from his jeans and pointed it at her, gesturing toward the chair with the weapon. His grip was painfully tight on her wrist, and with nervous eyes on the gun, Tessa allowed herself to be pulled into the chair. She chewed her lip, with her eyes on the door.

  The sound of tape being ripped from the roll made her jump. Her capture had stuffed his gun into his waistband. Without the threat of the gun being held on her, the guy would have a hard time keeping her still. Tessa saw the opportunity, and made a split-second decision.

  “Don’t move,” the man said, and kneeled to secure her hand to the side of the chair.

  “Fat chance!” Tessa brought her knee up hard, aiming for her kidnapper’s head. Unlike her earlier attempt, this time her knee slammed into the man’s face, and Tessa heard his nose break with a satisfying crunch.

  The man fell to the side, and Tessa leapt up from the chair then made a beeline for the open door. Her high heels slipped on the linoleum and threw off her balance. Her hip glanced off the counter. When a strong hand wrapped around her ankle and jerked her backward, she emitted a frustrated cry. “No!”

  Tessa tried to shake off the man’s grip, but he pulled hard on her ankle and Tessa crashed to the floor, striking her head on the dirty linoleum. She looked up to see the man’s furious face as he pulled her toward him.

  Tessa kicked out at him but missed, and he grabbed her other ankle. She tried to roll away, but he held her ankles together then turned her onto her stomach. He was faster than she was, so before she could strike at him again, he had pinned her to the floor with his knee between her shoulder blades.

  With rough motions, Tessa’s attacker pulled her arms behind her back and taped her wrists tightly behind her. He pushed his full weight into her back and taped her feet, undeterred by her struggles. Tessa winced with pain.

  When the pressure on her back eased, Tessa took a gasping breath and struggled against her bonds, testing the tension of the tape. Yet her movements were curtailed. The man hooked his hand under her armpit and pulled her up from the floor. He deposited her in the chair that awaited her.

  Tessa lurched, swore, and struggled as the man duct-taped her securely to the chair. “This is bullshit…do you know how ridiculous this is? You’re the most pathetic kidnapper ever. Throw me in a trunk, and then duct-tape me to a chair? Do you even know who you’re dealing with?”

  The man stood back, admiring his handiwork, and Tessa rocked the chair angrily. With her arms taped behind her back, and more loops of tape across her chest to just below her knees, she was fastened to the chair. Despite her struggles, the tape was tighter than she had hoped it would be.

  Tessa exhaled through her nose, and stared at the man who had taken her hostage. He tossed the roll of duct tape at the pile of garbage in the corner. Three fat flies rose from the pile to sketch lazy patterns in the air above their feeding ground. She wrinkled her nose at the waft of sour air that floated toward her.

  The man rubbed his temple with the muzzle of the gun, before pointing it at her again. He swiped at the blood that dripped from his nose, spreading it across his cheek. “I know who I’m dealing with, Melanie. And I know Hewitt is going to come running to save you. And that’s exactly what I want.”

  Chapter 6

  Adrenaline had surged in Hunter’s veins, when the man at the rear of the sedan had pointed a gun into the trunk. At least the abductor’s nose had been bleeding. He pitied the man who had taken Tessa. The imbecile had no idea what he was in for. The man disappeared behind the trunk lid.

  Hunter had fought the urge to launch himself from the SUV and run headlong at the guy to tackle him to the ground and grind his face into the blacktop. Heroics like that could get Tessa shot. He had opened his door carefully, and winced as the door’s cheerful ding echoed loudly in his ears and the interior light blinked. Hunter had flung his torso across the console and flicked off the dome light, swearing.

  He’d waited for a few beats, then peeked over the dash as he heard the trunk of the sedan slam shut. The man had managed to pull Tessa from the trunk and drag her toward a run-down bungalow with white shutters that seemed to glow in the darkness.

  When the man had thrown his arm over Tessa’s shoulders, making it look like they were on a date instead of in the middle of a kidnapping, Hunter had bristled. The metallic glint of the gun pressed into Tessa’s ribs made him furious. This guy had no idea what he had gotten himself into. If he hurt Tessa…

  While Hunter considered his next move, his phone rattled on the dash, and he thought about not answering it. He squinted in the darkness to see where the man had taken Tessa. He’d pulled her around the side of the house, until they were hidden behind a poorly trimmed stand of hedge.

  The phone buzzed angrily, and with a frustrated grunt, he grabbed for it. It was Rip. “Tell me something good.”

  “Ordinarily, I’d tell you to chill out, but this is a little more serious. I’ve seen the security footage, so I know Tessa has been taken.”

  Hunter bit down hard on his tongue, hot with rage. Every nerve in his body was pulling him toward that house and Tessa.

  “I ran the plate you gave me, and it’s more than a simple kidnapping. Travis wants to talk to you.”

  Hunter gave his full attention to the call. If Travis was involved, it was serious. He knew that his boss cared about Tessa, but this was something Hunter could handle on his own. Didn’t Travis trust him to take care of it?

  “Davis, listen carefully. This guy isn’t just some nobody trying to get into the papers. Caleb Vincent is a blast from the past, and not in a good way. He’s the younger brother of Jared Vincent. Years ago, I was on a job that turned messy. Jared was stalking my client, and he got violent. So we ended up taking him down.” Travis paused, and Hunter glanced impatiently at his watch. Tessa’s time was running out.

  “I shot the guy, and he died on scene,” Travis said.

  Hunter regretted his impatience. “Shit. I’m sorry…”

  “It’s fine. It was either him or the client, and I couldn’t let that happen. The case is old, and Tessa wouldn’t know anything about it. She won’t know how to deal with him. I can only guess that this guy is out for revenge, and he’s trying to get back at Stealth through Tessa. Rip says you’re in Encino. We can be there in forty—”

  “No…that’s too much time. Tessa’s in danger. This guy has a gun, and if what you’re saying is true, then I need to get in there and get her out, sooner rather than later. You can’t expect me to wait out here in the street while she’s in there with a potential killer.” Travis was silent, and Hunter knew that his boss agreed with him.

  “You’re there on the ground, so
I can’t tell you not to try. Tessa’s counting on you, even if she doesn’t know you’re there. Rip just showed me the security camera footage; she might be hurt.”

  Hunter smiled grimly as he remembered the kidnapper’s bloody nose; Tessa had a few tricks up her sleeve too. “I think Tessa has already given him a run for his money.”

  “I hope you have a plan.”

  “I’m not sure yet, boss. But I’ll figure it out.” Travis was silent, and Hunter fidgeted, anxious to end the call and get to Tessa. “Is there anything else I should know about this guy?”

  “No, I don’t think so, but he’s got a police record a mile long.”

  “Well, this will definitely put him on the map. If you don’t hear from me in ten minutes, send in the cavalry.” Hunter ended the call and tossed the phone onto the driver’s seat before closing the door. The last thing he needed was a poorly timed call giving away his position. As it was, he would need to tread carefully.

  The street was quiet, but Hunter stayed low, hugging the shadows to make his way to the house. It was an average home on a typical suburban street. But as he drew closer, Hunter could see that the grass hadn’t been mowed recently, and the paint was peeling in several places. The glow of the porch light had attracted large moths, fluttering weakly around the naked bulb.

  The bushes and palms around the side of the house were overgrown, and Hunter could see no other way around than to take the same path as Tessa and her captor. Movement stirred from inside the house, so he crouched down against the stairs that led to the front door.

  Hunter heard swearing, then a crash. He crept onto the porch and pressed his back against the sun-warmed wall. The faint but distinctive sound of duct tape being peeled from a roll reached his ears, and Hunter gritted his teeth. Staying low, he crept below the window to the corner of the house. A white door with faded, peeling paint stood ajar, and he heard voices inside.