Dark Summer

Walt was right, Marrok thought. His nerves were stretched to the breaking point, and he wanted to reach out and crush something, anything. He glanced at his watch again.

Bridget, dammit, call me.

SHE'D HAVE TO CALL MARROK soon, Bridget thought, as she drove around to the other side of the vineyard. He'd be on edge at not hearing from her that she had Devon settled safely. He'd only wait so long before he'd explode. Marrok was a dangerous proposition at any time, but this situation was too volatile to take risks.

But the call would have to wait. She couldn't trust Lincoln not to try to betray her, and she couldn't predict how he'd do it. She parked the car, got out, and crawled up the slope of the vineyard toward the house.

She had a clear view of the winery from this vantage point and lifted her binoculars to her eyes. The windows were long and wide, and she could see the bedroom door through which Lincoln had taken Devon. But where was Lincoln now?

In the kitchen. She caught a glimpse of him standing in front of one of the counters.

She had taken the time to scout the surrounding buildings after she'd left the house and had not run across anyone else on the property. That didn't mean that Lincoln might not be expecting company. He might be playing straight with her, but she wouldn't count on it.

She pulled out her computer and equipment and pulled up the program and made adjustments. Then she settled down to wait.

Fifteen minutes passed.

Thirty minutes.

Forty-five.

Then the digital number came up on the screen.

Yes.

BRIDGET CLOSED THE COMPUTER AND tucked it into her bag.

Okay, time to make a move. Lincoln had ended the call and was dialing another number. Marrok. She knew what that call would be about. He would tell Marrok he had Devon and Bridget's part in it. Probably not much more. It would only be a teaser, with the hook coming later.

She needed to get to the winery. Lincoln's last call hadn't really surprised her, but it meant everything was escalated. She had to-

No!

Devon bleeding, her eyes glazing over.

Devon falling.

Bridget buried her face in her arms as chill after chill shook her body.

'No,' she whimpered. 'No. No.'

Pull yourself together. It's not as if it hasn't happened before.

But the picture had never been as clear, the details so precise.

Was that because it was Bridget's fault that Devon would die?

She wanted to throw up.

She drew a deep, shaky breath and forced herself to straighten. She'd call Jordan and talk to him. She needed him.

She stopped as she reached for her phone.

No, there was nothing that Jordan could do, and if he sensed she was panicking, he might tell her to drop everything and come back to him. He had done it before.

Not this time, Jordan. I have to work it out for myself.

Maybe it wasn't going to happen yet. Block out that picture of Devon, falling, dying. Ignore the cold that was beginning to freeze her blood.

She began to struggle to her feet, then stopped, her gaze on the house.

A tan car was parked before the front door, and a tall, powerfully built man was getting out of the driver's seat.

'WAKE UP, bitch.'

Stinging pain as a hand cracked against Devon's left cheek. Her lids flew open.

'That's it,' Lester said. 'I want you wide-awake and feeling everything I do to you.' He slapped her again. 'Whore.'

'May I suggest if you continue in that vein that you'll knock her unconscious again, and she won't feel anything.' Lincoln was standing in the doorway. 'I don't mean to interfere, but I've been taught to-'

'Lester?' Devon scrambled to sit up and lifted her hand to her head as it swam dizzily.

Chad Lincoln… Lester. It had to be a nightmare.

No, Lester was too real, standing before her with eyes shining and his lips curved with malicious plea sure. She had seen him like that too many times through the years.

'Don't hurry. Give her a chance to get her breath, Enright,' Lincoln said. 'She's not going anywhere.'

'Shut up. This is my business.'

'True.' His glance shifted to Devon. 'I really wouldn't argue with anything he wants to do with you. He appears to be very angry.'

Lester was always angry, always brutal. 'What's he-doing here?'

'Danner sent him. It seems he was dealing with both of us to get what he wanted. When I came through with the prize, he called a few hours ago and told me he was sending Enright down to get you to cooperate in persuading Marrok to step into the trap. He doesn't think trading you for the dogs is too good a bet. He wants Marrok, and he believes Marrok is impulsive enough to come after you.'

Keep talking. Her head was clearing now, and she had to gain strength before she could face Lester. 'You're double-crossing Bridget. She thinks you want the dogs for yourself.'

'Oh, I do. But I don't have the money and power that Danner does. I can be satisfied with a partnership.' He smiled at Enright. 'And I understand Danner is paying you a pretty penny, too. Something about Nigeria?'

Lester had never taken his gaze from Devon's face. 'Get out, Lincoln.'

Lincoln straightened. 'It seems I'm de trop. Though I really think I could do the job better. You have little finesse, Enright.' He glanced at Devon. 'Give in. Tell him you'll do what Danner wants, and you may survive.' He was closing the door. 'But then again, you may not.'

'You'll survive.' Lester took a step closer to her. 'You'll survive for a long, long time. I've got it all planned.' He jerked open her shirt, and his big hand encircled her left breast. 'Danner understands whores like you.'

'Danner doesn't even know me.' Don't move. Her strength was beginning to return, and she had to have that strength. 'You don't know me.'

'I know how weak you are.' His hand clenched on her breast with agonizing force, and his face lit up as he saw her arch in pain. 'I know how afraid you are of me.'

'I was afraid of you.' She was panting as she fought through the waves of agony. Not yet. 'I was only seventeen, and it's easy to scare a kid. But I got over it.'

'No, you didn't. I made you run.'

'Not because I was afraid you'd hurt me again. I wasn't afraid for myself.'

'Look at you,' he said softly. 'You're hurting so bad you want to scream.'

'Yes.' It was almost time. Her head was clear, and strength was flowing back to her. Just endure it for a little longer. 'Did I tell you that the first thing I did when I started to run was to learn how to protect myself from you? There are all kinds of ways to handle bullies. I was never going to have to face this kind of punishment again.'

His lip curled. 'But you are, aren't you? And I'm going to hurt you until you call that half-breed and tell him what I'm doing to you. Then I may stop for a while.'

'I'm not calling Marrok.' She stared him in the eye. 'And I'm done with talking to you.'

'The hell you're-'

He screamed as she jabbed her two forefingers into his eyes. His hand loosened, and she rolled away from him and off the bed.

'Bitch!' He was flailing wildly, trying to see her. 'I'll kill you.'

She grabbed the bedside lamp and jerked the cord out of the socket. 'No, you won't.' She swung the lamp like a mace and it connected with the side of his face. 'No more killing, no more pain, no more running.'