“Let me talk to him. Please!”
He hung up.
She stared at her phone. What was she going to do?
There was a knock on her door and she stifled a scream. “Come in,” she called.
Jack walked in. “Everything all right?”
“Yes,” she lied. Could he tell something was wrong? She almost laughed at the absurdity of that thought. Wrong? Everything was wrong and had been for days. No one would know why. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Okay.” He paused, looked around the room, and left.
Her phone beeped and she opened it.
She retrieved it.
“Oh, dear God, why are you doing this to me?”
Dillon was handcuffed to his bed, blood on his lip and streaked over his shirt. The message read:
THIRTY-FOUR
QUINN STARED AT KATE across the table of the task force office that had been set up four days ago when the FBI had first learned that Trask had kidnapped Lucy Kincaid.
“Earth to Kate.”
“Sorry. Daydreaming.”
“About?”
“Dillon.”
“Why didn’t you go to his house with him?”
She sighed. “I made a mistake. You have enough people here to go over these records. You don’t need me, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
She gave him a mock frown. “I should be hurt by that.”
“Go see Dillon. It’ll make you feel better. I’ll call you if we learn anything about Scott.”
“Thanks.” She paused.
“What?”
“Can I borrow a car?”
Dillon tore a wide strip off his shirt and, using his free hand and teeth, tied a tourniquet around the knife wound in his thigh. He assessed the damage. Not deep, but it still hurt like hell.
Scott had left as soon as he sent Lucy a picture of Dillon. Dillon wished he could have communicated something to Lucy to keep her safe, but he feared she would walk right over out of guilt. All he could hope for was Jack keeping her under lock and key. He wouldn’t let her just leave the house alone.
Scott came back into the bedroom.
“Leave Lucy out of this,” Dillon told Adam Scott.
“She only has ten more minutes. She didn’t send anyone over. No patrols out front. No one lurking in the bushes. Smart kid. But nowhere near as smart as me.”
“What do you really want?” Dillon asked. It wasn’t money. While money was vitally important to Scott, he wouldn’t risk being caught for it. He had lost a lot to the FBI, but he still had millions squirreled away. Enough to buy a new identity and disappear.
This wasn’t about money. It wasn’t just about the humiliation he’d suffered by having his sick webcam shut down, or even about his father disowning him. In fact, Dillon didn’t think it was about Lucy.
It was about Monique-bringing her back from the dead-and it was about Kate. Lucy was a tool. A trap.
“You really do want Kate.”
Scott stared at him, his hard face unmoving. Shrugged.
“You don’t need Lucy.”
“I need to give Kate proper incentive. And I like Lucy. She’ll be properly submissive once I train her.”
“We’ll never stop looking for her. You know that.”
“Makes it more of a challenge. Of course, I could just kill you all, then no one would be looking for her. In fact, she wouldn’t even try to escape.” Scott seemed to seriously ponder this option.
“Lucy won’t come.”
But Dillon knew she would. The guilt over Patrick’s condition would compel her to make sure the same thing didn’t happen to him. Dillon wished he could have talked to her, but Scott had left the room while making the call, after taking his picture as proof of his words.
“Yes, she will. I’ve been watching your family for the last twenty-four hours. I know she spent hours at the hospital with your younger brother. With your commando brother around her all the time, I couldn’t get her out of the house on my own. I used to have plenty of men who would have stormed the house and taken her for me, but Kate killed them all.” He smiled oddly at Dillon. “You killed one of them, too, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You shot an unarmed man. How does that make you feel, Doctor?”
“I have no feelings on the matter. He was raping my sister.” He did have feelings, strong feelings. He would have done anything, killed anyone, to spare Lucy.
Scott just nodded thoughtfully. “How did you hook up with Kate Donovan in the first place?”
“Mutual friend,” Dillon answered cryptically.
Scott didn’t like that answer. “How does it feel to have sent your brothers into a trap?”
“Trap?”
Scott was jumping around, trying to keep Dillon off-guard.
“In Baja California. They walked right into it. Boom. Noble of you, to let them take the lead. Poor Patrick.”
Dillon didn’t fall for the bait. “This is between you and Kate. Leave Lucy out of it.”
“You don’t get it. Monique and I will disappear as soon as I kill Kate.” Scott frowned rubbed his eyes. “Lucy and I will disappear.”
“How did Monique die? Were you having sex and just got carried away?”
“It was an accident.”
“You couldn’t get hard, could you? So you had to play games.”
“Shut up.”
“You were soft. Maybe she teased you. You hit her. Saw her scared. Scared of you. That turned you on, didn’t it?”
“Women like it rough. Monique loved our games.”
“You got turned on when she was scared, were able to finally get it up and into her, then what happened? Your dick grow limp again? Couldn’t climax?”
“I said to shut up.” Scott was pacing.
Dillon knew he had him. He kept pushing, biding time. Jack would begin to get suspicious when Dillon didn’t show up with the food he’d promised to bring for dinner. Jack would come check on him, see the blood and disarray in the kitchen.
Dillon just had to keep Adam Scott focused on him, not Lucy.
“So you put your hands around her neck. Squeezed. She was terrified. She would have begged you to stop, but she couldn’t talk. You loved that. Finally you could have an orgasm. You achieved what seems so effortless for normal men. Victory, right? You were in charge, on top of the world. But you held on too long. Squeezed too tight. Monique was dead.
“How did you feel? Knowing you killed her for your own short-lived sexual pleasure?”
Scott backhanded him. “You know
