Traceless. HelenKay DimonЧитать онлайн книгу.
a shaking hand, Connor hit the end button and fought off the mix of panic and fury whipping through him. “The man who kidnapped my wife.”
Chapter Two
The noises in Jana’s head roared, growing louder with each second until she woke with a start. She tried to move her arms and something pinched her stomach. She tugged again and bindings dug into her skin.
She bit back a scream as she opened her eyes. Blinking, she adjusted to the pale light and tried not to draw any attention or move her head as she glanced at the area right in front of her and just off to the sides. She couldn’t turn around and see behind her, but she picked up enough clues to know she’d been moved.
A small room with a few windows. No furniture except the rickety, hard chair under her. A wood floor thick with dust. And two bruisers dressed in black, standing on either side of a window next to what she assumed was the front door to this cabin. Without facing her, they looked like the same ones who burst through the door back at the office.
The pieces didn’t add up to anything good.
She searched her memory for a building that fit what she saw and remembered an abandoned shack about two miles from the charity. She’d found it while out walking one day, trying to clear her head and work through the pain of not being near Connor.
Connor... Because of her he would walk into a trap. She closed her eyes on the wave of pain that crashed over her.
“The princess is awake.”
At the sound of the male voice her eyes popped open again. Her captor, the one who had hovered over her earlier while he threatened Connor over the phone, stood right over her again. There still was nothing hiding his identity, which confirmed they did not plan for her to survive whatever they were plotting.
He or one of these guys must have knocked her out. Some way she’d ended up here with only these three. She had no idea how many hours had passed but could see from the area outside the window that it was dark outside. The sky took on an eerie gray and tall trees blocked her view of anything more than a few feet away from the building.
Hoping to stall, do anything to get her bearings again, she said the first thing that came into her head. “How is Connor supposed to find me here?”
The man she thought of as the leader shrugged. “He’s resourceful.”
“He’s not superhuman.” But he was close. He’d saved her from an impossible situation once before and she had to believe he would somehow do it again. But at what cost?
When he received the call he’d sat hours away in Maryland. There was no way he could catch a commercial flight at that hour. But he was ingenious. He knew people. He never spoke about his time before starting the Corcoran Team or whatever he did years ago in black ops, but it conditioned him for situations like this. She knew that much.
The leader crouched down and met her at eye level. “I am well familiar with your husband.”
“How?” Because if he knew Connor from the old days, this guy might have the same skills and then... She couldn’t think about the “then” part.
“You don’t need to worry about that now.”
“He won’t get here in time.” Even if he did land in Utah by the deadline, she had no idea how he would know where to look for her.
Shifting her shoulders, she tried to move her hands but they stayed locked behind her. There was a little give in the ropes binding her ankles, but too much shifting and the chair would tip over. She didn’t see how that would help her.
She concentrated, trying to figure out if she still had her phone, but the ties lay flat and tight against her body and she didn’t see any signs of bulging from the cell. That was really bad news since her phone had a chip in it and could provide Connor with a beacon to find her.
The idea had been for Connor to know her location at all times. He insisted it was a matter of safety, not trust. Before she left home she viewed it as further evidence of his overzealous need to wrap her up and store her away.
All that had changed now. The chip, the constant analysis, his insistence she run recovery drills with the team struck her as sound planning. The ability to commandeer a flight in record time might turn out to be the perfect trait in a husband.
“For your sake, let’s hope you’re wrong about your husband’s tardiness.” The leader stood up but stayed bent over her. His mouth loomed close to her ear. “And stop fidgeting.”
“You think I’m going to sit here for hours and wait to die?”
He balanced his hands on his thighs and continued to lean in close. “Would you rather be unconscious? Because I could arrange that. Again.”
Footsteps clomped against the hardwood right before a second man appeared at the leader’s side. This was one of the guys who chased her through the charity building. “Or I can keep you occupied.”
Her stomach flipped as bile rushed up her throat. This one, taller and bulkier, wore a feral grin. His gaze never stopped roaming and the heat in his eyes promised pain.
The leader chuckled as he stood up and slapped the other man on the back. “Looks like my associate here is eager to step in and keep you company as you wait.”
“Yeah, I am. She ran last time. She won’t this time.” The guy reached out and the tips of his fingers touched her hair.
She flinched and threw her body in the opposite direction. “Don’t touch me.”
The chair rocked and teetered. She would have crashed to the floor, unable to brace for the impact, if the leader hadn’t clamped a hand down on her shoulder and steadied her.
He smiled at his friend. “It would appear she’s not interested.”
Fear pumped through her. Every bone shook and she fought to keep the tremor out of her voice. Panic and revulsion mixed until her head pounded. “No.”
“Are you sure?” This time the oversized attacker grabbed her hair. Balled it in his fist and pulled. “You must be lonely if you and your husband are really separated.”
The leader’s eyebrow lifted. “Well, Jana? Is he right? Are you looking for someone to keep you busy and your mind off your husband?”
Tears came to her eyes as the man ripped strands of hair from her head. She stopped moving—anything to keep him from getting a tighter grip. From pulling her closer to him or his hot breath blowing cross her cheek.
She inhaled through her nose, desperate to calm the nerves jumping around inside her. Tried to remember all of Connor’s instructions and the directions he called out during his impromptu safety drills. The most basic was to keep the attackers talking. Make them deal with her as a human being and not a product to be traded. “Tell me why you want Connor.”
The leader shrugged. “Tell me why you don’t.”
“He will kill you both when he gets here.”
The men looked at each other and laughed. The one with the death grip on her hair spoke up. “I doubt that.”
“Let me go.”
“That’s enough.” The leader pushed his friend back and crowded her.
She could smell the sweat on his skin and the heat pouring off him through his clothes. She fought to keep the dizziness from knocking her over as terror ran wild through her. “What are you—”
“Quiet or I will put one in your mouth, too.” A black slip of material dropped out of the leader’s hand and he waved it in front of her face. He came at her with his hands out. His thigh touched against hers as he practically stood on top of her.
“No.” She shook her head, swiveled and turned.
He grabbed her