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“She’s alive,” Zeke stated. “That’s all that matters. ”
He was aware of the looks the other men were giving each other.
“If she were dead, the house would be in flames. ” He nodded to the silent shadows ahead. There was no sign of light, no glow of a fire. “Jonesy wouldn’t leave any evidence. He’s been too careful so far; he would continue to be. ”
“Unless he took her out of the house,” Cranston suggested.
Zeke ignored him.
“He wouldn’t take her out of the house,” Gene said. “Jonesy would make it look like a suicide or he’d set fire to the place. Dad told me once that the League had a silent exterminator. He never said who it was, but my money’s on Danny Jones. ”
So was Zeke’s.
“Let’s move. ”
They exited the vehicle silently and moved quickly along the graveled road with the night-vision devices in place. The murky green visual displayed in front of his eyes gave Zeke a moment’s pause. He rarely used night vision. But now, with the fog from the lake thickening around the mountains and hampering regular sight, Zeke thanked God for them.
With Alex, Dawg, and Gene at his back he set a fast pace toward the house. He could feel the prickling of danger now, the awareness that time was running out.
He had to get to her. God help him, he couldn’t let her be hurt, or worse, taken from him forever. At that moment, nothing mattered but Rogue. Thoughts of her twisted through his head, rage and regret and blinding pain twisted and tangled together until rage bloomed from his inability to change the danger she was in.
He shouldn’t have left her. He shouldn’t have hurt her. He should have taken more time, explained more, made things clear. He should have assured her he was coming back for her, and that they would deal with the future then. He should have told her he loved her.
Rogue could feel the danger, it washed over her skin with an oily sensation and left her shuddering to the point that she had to lock her teeth together to keep them from chattering and giving her away.
She couldn’t hear Jonesy anymore. How could a man so big move so quietly? Or was he moving? He could be doing as she was, waiting, watching.
Her muscles were cramping with her efforts to remain completely still. A tear spilled from her eyes, tickled her chin, but she refused to wipe it away.
Where was Zeke? He had to be coming. He had to be close. He wouldn’t let her be hurt.
She was only going to be able to do so much to save herself here. It wasn’t as though she carried a gun or had even borrowed one of his. And she sure as hell wasn’t strong enough for a fight against Jonesy.
Damn him. She hoped he knew he was fired now. The bastard had burned her bar?
Blown it up? How could he blow up her bar?
Son of a bitch.
God, she was scared.
She clenched her teeth tighter and hoped she was out of sight. Of course in this fog, he could be standing beside her and she wouldn’t know it.
A shudder worked over her as the dew began to seep into her thin T-shirt. The cool moisture became freezing after a while, and she didn’t like the cold.
She wanted to be in Zeke’s arms. She wanted him to hold her, wanted to be warm again against his naked flesh. She wanted a chance to kick him for using her.
She couldn’t believe he had played her so easily. Rogue wasn’t easy to play. At least, she hadn’t thought she was.
She bit her lip as she heard a shuffle of sound. Was it wind or was it death coming closer? She was dead if Jonesy found her, and she knew it.
Another shift, it could be the breeze or the sound of a footfall against the grass.
She fought the need to run, to scream.
“Bitch! There you are!”
She screamed as cruel fingers gripped her hair and jerked her up, then over the railing.
