Wicked Secrets, page 14
She quickly typed in the passcode then hit the contact she needed. It rang three times. Three excruciating rings, and all the while Lexi prayed that she hadn’t made the wrong decision, that the emergency number would still work for her.
“Lexi, what’s wrong?”
She let out the breath she was holding. “Adam, hi, bad news. I’m going to be late for my next appointment.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sam wasn’t quite sure where things had gone wrong. He didn’t know if he’d walked into a trap or if he’d said something to trigger one, but either way he was nursing a headache that felt like a thousand baseball bats were pounding his skull, and he was fairly confident that he was riding in the trunk of a car. He couldn’t see anything because of the burlap-like bag over his head, but he could smell a faint scent of gasoline. His arms were tied behind his back. He’d awoken completely discombobulated and in pain, with no memory of how he’d actually gotten where he was. Strangely, he wasn’t scared, though. Maybe that was because of his head injury—or maybe it was because he was damn stupid.
If he was in a car, it wasn’t moving. He couldn’t hear shit either, so he had no clues as to where they’d taken him or how long he’d been unconscious for.
The last thing he remembered was leaving Lexi to meet his buddy who was going to wire him up for his meeting with the Highwaymen and the Riders. He had no idea what had happened after that. Had he made it to the meeting? Had he even gotten in the front door? He hoped like hell that Lexi had made it off the yacht and to the airport. Their chartered flight would take off at four a.m. That was what he’d told the pilot Teddy, another buddy of his, to do, regardless of if he made it or not. Teddy would be on the lookout for Lexi at the airport and would make sure she boarded safely. Getting her out of there was his only concern, even though he’d told Lexi that the plane wouldn’t leave until they were both on board. His head hurt too much to think hard about it all, though. He wished he could remember what the last few hours had involved.
Sam tried to move, to test the limits of his confinement, but every twitch of his muscles sent shooting pain through his entire body. Was that what Lexi felt on a daily basis? Sam would kill for a few of her pain meds right about now. He breathed through the pain and let his body relax as much as possible, which wasn’t a lot, considering he was crammed into someone’s trunk and could end up dead at any moment.
“Get him out.”
Sam heard the muffled command seconds before the trunk popped open. The bag over his head was removed swiftly, taking some of his hair with it. He wasn’t blinded by light, but his eyes hurt all the same. Wherever they were, it was still dark out. He didn’t recognize the guys wrenching him out of the trunk either, but that wasn’t saying much, considering the size of Dax’s and Vince’s gangs.
“You cause any trouble, Mr. Henderson, and I’ll wallop you again,” the bigger of the two men said, his voice eerily calm. Sam looked at the dude’s meaty hands and realized that if he’d been the one to hit Sam the first time, well, it was no wonder he couldn’t remember shit.
Mr. Henderson. The realization dawned slowly that the guy had called him by his alias. Ohhhhh, shit. Jolts of memory filtered into his scattered brain. He’d made it to the meeting, but things had been all wrong right from the start. He’d called Lexi…
Sam’s stomach pitched. Lexi was in trouble.
The guys dragged him out, not caring in the least that he couldn’t balance himself at all. When he pitched forward, almost smashing his face into the ground, he realized where they were—back at the boat. His suspicions were confirmed a minute later as they dragged Sam between them up the walkway and onto Devon’s yacht.
He tried to get his feet under him, but he couldn’t coordinate himself. The guys dragging him kept moving, ignoring Sam’s efforts to gain control. Where was Lexi? What had happened to her? He didn’t dare ask for fear that he’d find out the worst.
“Samuel…or should I just call you Sam?” Dax was seated on the leather wrap-around couch with his feet up and his arms behind his head, looking relaxed and completely unfazed.
Devon was seated at the other end, his head lolling forward, blood dripping slowly from a wound Sam couldn’t see. He was propped up by the armrest, his hands tied behind his back.
“What happened?” Sam was genuinely confused. Obviously, his plan had backfired somehow, but how had Devon gone from partner to victim in this situation?
“What happened?” Dax laughed as he planted his feet on the wood floor and sat upright, steepling his hands in front of him. “Well, let’s see… You forgot who you were dealing with, Sam Henderson, award-winning investigative reporter.” His voice rose slightly. “You forgot that I have access to more information than you can imagine and that I’ve seen it all. I’ll give you props for the database—that was clever—but even a fool like Devon figured out it was a fake. Maybe not as quickly as I would have, but he proved his loyalty in the end.”
“What did you do to him? If he’s so loyal, why does he look like he’s been pummeled?”
“Because he let your girl slip away.” Vince stepped into the room with two guys behind him, who were carrying something. “And I’ve got a temper.”
“Let me go!” Lexi’s muffled yell sent a chill straight to Sam’s gut. Her head was covered, just as his had been, and she was struggling in her captor’s arms.
The guys dumped her to the ground, and she landed with a thud. She was quiet for a few seconds, likely collecting herself, because Sam knew that fall had to have jarred her back and sent screaming pain through her entire body. It didn’t keep her down, though. No, she pushed herself up to her knees and started yelling again.
“Take this thing off my head! I can’t breathe in here.”
Dax nodded at one of the guys, who moved forward and whipped the bag off her head.
Her hair flew up then landed in a mess on her face. Her arms were tied behind her back so she couldn’t clear her vision. The guy who’d ripped the bag off moved forward and brushed her hair from her face. Seeing that thug’s fingers on Lexi had Sam’s hackles rising. He wanted to tell him to get his hands off her, but Lexi handled it with much more grace…and balls.
“I would appreciate you not touching me. You have to pay for that privilege.”
Dax barked a laugh, his face showing what looked like appreciation for her gall.
Sam admired her courage. Here she was, taking in the scene before her—Devon’s bloody face, Sam tied up, and yet she returned her gaze to Dax’s and met him head-on.
“Why have you kidnapped me?”
Dax snorted another laugh. “You have access to something I want.”
She shifted a look toward Sam and he saw, for a split second, fear flash in her eyes.
“I was just saying to your friend, Sam, that your fake database bought you some time, but sadly, not enough. Good effort, though.” Dax stood and crossed the room. “Now you’re going to access Sabine’s real database right here, right now.”
“I won’t.” Lexi straightened her back and glared at Dax.
Vince moved forward in a flash then smacked the back of her head hard enough to send her flying forward. With no hands to brace her fall, she landed hard, the side of her face taking the brunt of it.
“Don’t fucking touch her!” Sam roared. Fuck, he wanted to kill these assholes with his bare hands.
“You be quiet, you lying sack of shit.” Dax brought a laptop over to the coffee table. “Help her up.”
Lexi’s nose was bleeding and her cheek was red. One of Vince’s men hauled her to her knees. Somehow, Lexi stifled the yelp of pain Sam could see clearly on her face.
Dax crowded her, so close that Sam could see spit hitting her cheek as he spoke. “You’ll access the database right fucking now.”
“And if I don’t?”
Dax flicked his eyes to one of Vince’s guys, who in turn pulled a gun from the back of his pants then shot Devon in the head. No hesitation.
Lexi screamed. Sam’s entire understanding of the situation shift as he watched his friend’s brains slide down the cushion of the couch.
“Get rid of him,” Vince ordered.
Lexi was whimpering quietly as the men removed Devon’s body. She turned her head and mouthed, I’m sorry, to Sam.
He shook his head. Not your fault.
“If you don’t access the database within the next twenty seconds, I’ll shoot your boyfriend in the head too. So, what’d you say, Lexi? Ready to cooperate?”
Lexi sniffled, then snapped her gaze to Dax. “Yes.”
“Untie her.” Dax moved the computer closer to Lexi before turning his attention to Sam. “And you. What will I do with you, Sam Henderson?”
Lexi snapped her head up. “You can call his father and demand a meeting.”
“His father?” Dax snorted. “Mr. Henderson? This guy has been lying to you too, princess.”
Lexi opened her mouth, but Dax cut her off before she could speak.
“He was impersonating Samuel Dove, and I’ve got to say, the resemblance is close. Really close. No way would Fredrick Dove allow his son to become a soul-sucking reporter, not with the number of bodies he has buried in his backyard.”
“Allegedly,” Sam said.
Dax laughed. “Right. The man is so smooth that nothing has ever been proven. A fucking reporter like you would know that, right? The Dove family must be the holy fucking grail to a lowlife like you.” Dax shook his head. “I should have known that Devon would fuck this up. when he was bragging about knowing Samuel Dove, about getting us a connection to his father. Devon was full of shit and stupid as fuck, but he had more money than he knew what to do with, sooo…yeah.” Dax shrugged as if it was no big deal that he’d murdered a guy over being stupid and trusting. “You probably shouldn’t have worn a wire to our meeting.” Dax put his hand out and one of his men gave him a gun. He checked that it was loaded. “That was a stupid move for such a seasoned reporter.” He pulled the slide back and chambered a round. “At first I thought DEA, maybe FBI, but no, you’re just a lying piece of shit reporter who stuck his nose in the wrong place.” He pointed the gun at Sam’s head. “Access the fucking database now, Lexi!”
Lexi flinched, but she put her hands on the laptop. She typed quickly. “Here, here. I did it. You’re in.”
Dax smiled. “Turn the computer toward me.”
Lexi did as she was told.
“Good girl.” He lowered the gun then sat down on the couch. “See? Everything works out when you cooperate.” He put the gun on the table then pulled the laptop toward him and started typing, a slow smile creeping on his face. “It would have made things way easier to have access to Fredrick Dove for our plan, but without a proper introduction, well, we’ll have to use plan B.”
“You want to destroy Sabine?” Lexi asked, her voice a little shaky. One of the men behind her raised his hand as if to strike her, but Dax motioned for him to stop without taking his eyes off the screen.
“No, I’ll answer that.” Dax’s smile grew. “Yes, I plan to destroy Sabine Cowan. I plan to steal her money. I plan to create enemies for her by selling all this information she’s gathered. She’ll be dead before the end of the week if I play this right—and my hands will be clean.”
“Then what?” Sam asked. “You fund another charity with the proceeds? Buy yourself an island? Traffic some women there?” Because as much as Dax wanted people to believe that he was all Robin Hood with the money he stole, Sam had uncovered quite a few dark and disgusting uses of the funds he’d taken over the years.
Dax snapped his eyes up to Sam’s. “See? This is why I fucking hate reporters. You assholes never know when to shut up.” He raised the gun again, pointing it at Sam. “I will use the money to grease some of the people I associate with. Keeping my people happy ensures my success and, as you know, I’m not leading the biggest gang in existence, so I must do what I must do.” He shrugged. “But after you’re dead, the threat of anyone finding that out will be gone.”
He stood up and put the gun to Sam’s head, pushing hard into his temple. Sam kept his eyes on Lexi. They weren’t getting out of this alive, and he wanted her to know how fucking sorry he was for that.
“Say goodbye to Sam, Lexi.”
“She has nothing to do with this,” Sam growled. “She’s good at keeping secrets.”
Dax nodded. “So?”
“So, kill me but let her go.”
Dax snorted. “I don’t think so. She knows too much at this point. You know that.” He jammed the gun harder against Sam’s head. “I admire your balls though, Sam. For a reporter, you’re probably a stand-up guy.” He pulled the gun back then leaned forward so he was right in Sam’s face. “I’ll make sure it’s painless for her, okay? Mostly painless, anyway.” Then he winked.
Sam roared. He reeled back and rammed his head against Dax’s, sending the man stumbling backward.
A gun went off, so loud that Sam was deafened by the noise. He fell to the side, landing hard on his shoulder. Am I dead? Dying? He couldn’t tell.
More guns went off. There was screaming. Moaning. People were running—or trying to.
Sam tried to see Lexi in all the commotion, but she wasn’t where he’d last seen her. He pushed himself up, only to feel the muzzle of a gun press to his temple once again.
“You’re coming with me.” Dax was bleeding from somewhere, his shirt soaking through with the red stuff, but all the same, he hauled Sam up, using him as a shield as they moved through the carnage to the door.
Sam couldn’t see Lexi anywhere. She wasn’t on the floor. She wasn’t bleeding out. He fucking hoped she’d managed to escape somehow.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but—”
“You’ll kindly take your hands off my son.” Fredrick Dove loomed in the doorway, a gun in his hand, flanked by more of his men.
“Y-y-your son?” Dax was shaking. “But…he’s…a…”
“Reporter, yes. Disappointing, I know, but you’ve got to let them sow their oats however they see fit.” Sam’s father motioned to Dax with his gun. “Release him now.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” Dax let Sam go and took a step away. “It was a misunderstanding. If I had known—” Another shot rang out and Dax’s words stopped. His body hit the floor seconds after that.
“Father,” Sam said, wondering how in the world his father had found him.
“Son.” Sam’s father moved into the room. “We have your girl safely in the hands of her people.”
“Her people?” Sam turned so that his father could untie him.
“Adam Lancaster reached out and filled me in on what was going down. We coordinated a rescue.”
Adam Lancaster? Sabine’s head of security? How? Then he realized… Lexi had betrayed his secret to Adam. She’d broken her promise to Sam and had told Adam who he really was, who his father was. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but she had. Despite how irrational it was for him to be angry given the circumstances, he was.
“I know you value your privacy, but she saved your life, son.” His father patted him on the back and Sam was mortified that his father could read him that easily. “Let’s go get you checked out. Your eyes look a little glassy.”
“What about all this?” Sam took in the carnage, the blood, the brains, the dead bodies.
“Adam’s team will take care of this mess.” Sam’s father took his arm, not in a forceful way, but Sam knew he really didn’t have a choice. “Come with me, son. We’ll get you sorted out. It’s time to come home.”
And just like that, Sam knew he’d been sucked right back into his father’s world—and he had Lexi to thank for it.
Chapter Eighteen
Weeks later
Lexi was still having nightmares, but for a change, they weren’t about her gymnastics accident. She kept alternating between watching Devon’s brains splatter against the leather couch and the chaos of the gunfight that had happened shortly after that. She could still feel the burning sensation of a bullet skidding past her cheek, a fraction of an inch away from obliterating her life. It had completely healed and hadn’t left a scar, but still, even in the dark, Lexi could trace the path it had taken. Those dreams were worse than her accident dreams. She woke up screaming and crying, dread flooding all her senses as she remembered the horrific scene that had been her reality all those weeks ago.
She knew that if Sam were with her, she wouldn’t have any nightmares—or at least, she’d have someone there to comfort her if she did. For the two nights she’d spent with him, she’d slept blissfully after he’d satiated her darkest needs, and she could only fantasize over how he’d take care of her in the aftermath of what they’d experienced together. But she couldn’t have him, now or ever. She’d betrayed his trust and had broken a promise to keep his identity a secret from Sabine, and now Sam Henderson-Dove had his very own file in the Cowan database, she was sure. Sabine wasn’t one to waste valuable information.
When Lexi had been detained at the airport and granted one call, she had known that whatever she said to Adam had to mean something so that she would put him on the right track. The fact that she’d called the emergency number had been enough to alert him that something was wrong, but when she’d told him that she was going to miss an appointment with Samuel Dove, she’d hoped like hell he’d picked up on the clue and figured out who she meant.
Of course, Adam being Adam, he had. He’d also tracked her down right at the very moment that all hell had broken loose on the yacht. She’d known Adam was good, but she hadn’t realized how good he was until his right-hand man Brett had wrapped his strong arms around her while she’d trembled on the floor, certain she was about to get hit by another bullet. Brett had pulled her out of that situation like it was the most natural thing in the world and had taken her to a Cowan medic within minutes. Adam had shown up a few hours later and she’d been whisked away on Sabine’s private jet shortly after that. Of course, both Brett and Adam had assured her that Sam was alive and unhurt and that his father had coordinated with Adam’s team to deal with the situation. She knew what that meant for Sam. Now that his father was back in his life, he’d never let Sam go.
