Page 39 of Collateral Damage

How could she escape? How many people were here? Where was Alexandrov? Sky shivered as she slowly sat down on the bed, looking around the room for anything she could use as a weapon. What time was it? Lightning flashed outside and she winced, her eyes sensitive to the sudden, bright light.

Chewing on her lower lip, Sky stared at the only entrance/exit point in the room. Was there a guard outside it? Armed? What was going to happen to her? Why had she been kidnapped? Was it really Alexandrov or her wild imagination? Sky didn’t know for sure. Thunder shook the villa, the sound like cannons being fired from nearby. The wide tropical leaves slapped against the one window, the wind gusting.

Sky was scared. And alone. Cal would try and find her; she knew that with every cell in her body. But how would he locate her? She didn’t even know where she was! Laying down on the bed, drawing her knees up against her chest, she felt suddenly chilled. Reality rolled over Sky, crushing her, destroying her hope, and she began to softly cry, the hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Pressing her face into the pillow, she rocked herself, needing help, needing some sense of safety, but there was none. What was going to happen tomorrow morning? Would she die? Would they rape her? Torture her? She wasn’t even sure who had kidnapped her. But something told her it was Alexandrov. And she knew the Russians were cruel and sadistic. Living with Vlad had taught her that.

Sky cried herself to sleep, arms tight around her body, knees drawn upward into a fetal position. She could die tomorrow. All she could do as she cried was picture Cal, his hard face, feel his rock-solid confidence, that feral look in his eyes when he had his game face on. Somehow, just visualizing him gave her a sense of safety. She clung to that tiny piece of solace. Sky knew Cal would turn heaven and hell over to find her. She knew he would.

Cal halted at the closet where Sky’s wedding gown hung. It was two a.m. in the morning, and he was exhausted in every possible way. Lauren had driven him back to the condo and dropped him off. He ached for Sky. Walking through the condo, the deathly silence only reminding him that she was somewhere unknown, probably feeling the same way he did. Lonely. Torn in half. Not whole anymore. She was his life. His mouth twisted as he stood at the door. He remembered Sky telling him not to look at her wedding gown before they got married; that it was bad luck. His hand moved to the handle. He was superstitious more than he’d ever admit, and he allowed his fingers to drop away from the handle.

Turning, he walked out of the room and closed the door. Looking around, Cal knew he was in shock. Two nights ago, this condo had rung with laughter, joking, and good times. Now… He ran his hand across the granite island, remembering their breakfast together in the morning, what they talked about, the way Sky looked shortly after taking her shower, how clean she smelled, the scent of almonds in her blond hair. He had to get a hold of himself, but it was impossible. At 0800 tomorrow morning, Butch had ordered the team back to the briefing room. By then, more intel would be available, he hoped. Lauren had worked with him until one thirty a.m. and finally pushed him out of the briefing room. They left everything there, the laptops, the notebooks, and pens, not to mention a pile of empty paper coffee cups.

Cal halted at the bathroom door, hands on the door jamb, staring numbly into it. Sky and he had made love in the shower the morning before their wedding day. It had been nothing short of mind blowing. Her cries had echoed sweetly around in the huge, steamy glass enclosure. She had clung to him, her face buried against his neck and shoulder, sobbing as he brought her to orgasms so many times that they’d both lost count. And then, when he came into her sweet, wet body, he nearly lost his footing, the power of the ejaculation tearing through him with raw, scalding pleasure. She brought out the best in him in every way, even when having sex. Cal corrected himself: when making love to Sky. She had been right, as he recalled their conversation with bittersweetness. Their last together, just before she got on top of him and rode him into more mindless pleasure, she’d said it wasn’t just sex they shared. It was love. He loved her more than life. Cal didn’t give a shit about living if he couldn’t have Sky in his life.

He pushed away from the door jamb, cursing richly. Turning, he walked into the bedroom. The bed was still unmade. Standing at the foot of it, he could still see the small indent in the sheet where Sky had slept. This was so damned painful. He rubbed his chest, his heart hurting so much that he was beyond tears, beyond screaming out his terror and frustration. Cal walked to the bed and sat down on his side of it. He saw Sky’s silky golden nightgown nearby. Picking it up, Cal pressed the silk to his face, inhaling deeply, smelling her scent on the material. Desperately, he wanted to hold her. He knew Sky was still alive, and she had to be so damned frightened. He wanted to enfold her into his arms, against his body, protect her as she deserved. How had this happened? HOW?

Cal pulled the material away from his face and held her gown between his large hands, staring down at it. Some of the material caught on the rough callouses across his fingers. Sky was like the silk, so smooth, soft, and beautiful. Cal hung his head, feeling the hot prick of tears at the back of his eyes. He crushed the silk between his hands, drawing it against his chest, over his heart. He felt an earthquake-like spasm roll up through his chest. A terrible, raw sound tore out of his mouth. He couldn’t stop it, it overtook him like the mindless, crazed animal he felt running wild inside of him.

Sky…

Cal swore he could feel her, that invisible connection they had with one another. He could sense her moods every time. And now, he felt such fear deep within him, he knew it was her fear that he was somehow experiencing. The only fear Cal had was of losing Sky. He swore, as the tears flowed unchecked down his cheeks, he would find her. He wouldn’t stop looking until he died. He’d hunted for her for two years trying to locate her, and he’d finally persevered and did the impossible: he’d discovered Sky in Cusco, Peru. And against the odds, he’d been able to track her down in that remote Indian village Vlad had carried her away to and rescued her. He would do it again.

Lifting his head, Cal stared at the top of their dresser. The blue diamond earrings he’d gifted her with were sitting there. She’d been so excited about them, so eager to wear them with her ring on their wedding day. His fingers plunged into the silk nightgown, and he shook with grief and terror. Tears dropped upon the fabric, soaking into it. This was his only physical connection with Sky. She’d worn this last night until he’d taken it off her. His mind violently rejected it would be the last time he’d ever touch Sky, love her.

“Señorita Sky?”

Sky jerked awake, sitting up. She blinked, her heart thundering. A petite woman, Caucasian, with long blond hair and wearing what she thought was a designer dress of bright red, stood by her bed. She was very young, she realized, maybe eighteen. Her face was artfully made up, her full lips painted a glossy red. She was beautiful. Sky gulped, looking down to see the dress barely covered half her thighs. She was wearing bright red designer shoes to go with the dress. Looking up into her soft blue eyes heavily made up with mascara and highlighted with charcoal above her eyes, Sky could smell the faint scent of spicy perfume around her. The woman looked like a fashion model who had walked out of the pages of Vogue Magazine. Sky quickly looked at the only door leading out of the bedroom. It was closed.

“I’m Catarina,” the young woman said, offering her a smile. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Gulping, Sky realized she was still in the clothes she’d taken from the dressers the night before.

“Are you hungry? I have a lovely breakfast ready for you. If you’d like it, I’ll have them bring it to you?”

Wiping her face, Sky felt groggy. “I’m thirsty,” she croaked. But she knew she had to eat to keep up her strength. “Who are you? And where am I?”

Catarina smiled and walked over to the wall phone. “I’m Don Alejandro Tobar’s favorite,” she murmured proudly. She picked up the receiver, speaking to someone in a foreign language.

Sky sat there, trying to reorient. Sunlight slanted by the opened window and into the dark green jungle nearby. There were still raindrops clinging to the glass. There had been a thunderstorm sometime last night. She remembered falling into an exhausted sleep while hearing the sounds rolling across the house. Vaguely listening, the woman was speaking in what could only be Russian. Living with Vlad for a year and hearing him using Russian often when he talked to himself, her sluggish brain finally recognized the language.

Sky looked toward the door. It opened. Kesera entered with a smile of hello. The Latino woman in her early forties, overweight and wearing her white cap, white dress with a green apron today, bringing in a tray filled with food. She nodded to Sky and placed the food on the rolling tray table and eased it over toward her. Thanking her, Sky saw plates of fresh fruit, croissants, jam in small jars, a carafe of coffee, cream, and sugar. Her stomach growled. She picked up the tall glass of guava juice, drinking it down in thirsty gulps.

The door closed.

Catarina floated by, the epitome of feminine grace. “That was Kesera, she is a nurse and will be your maid. I’ll be back shortly, Señorita Sky. I will return with your clothes…”

Frowning, Sky saw two guards, men in cammo’s with military rifles, standing outside the door as Catarina opened it and walked out. Where the hell was she? This morning, Sky felt more like her old self. The drug given her had made her feel like an emotional wet rag and she had felt out of control. This morning, Sky felt more solid, even confident. Food was fuel. If she was going to escape, she had to eat. Her appetite was non-existent, but Sky forced herself to eat all three croissants, spreading the unknown pink jam that was sweet and flavorful on the warm, fragrant bread. She drank the other glass of orange juice and then drank three cups of coffee, finally feeling sated, no longer violently thirsty.

Sky had barely wiped her mouth with the white linen napkin provided when the door opened again. It was beautiful Catarina, and this time, she had clothes folded neatly over her left arm and a pair of sensible brown leather shoes in her right hand. The door was shut by the men with the weapons.

Sky frowned, wondering about the timing of the girl’s entrance. Looking around for a camera, she found them discreetly hidden up in each corner of the room. Fear worked through her. They were recording her every move. Shutting her eyes for a moment, Sky wondered if there was a video in the bathroom where she’d showered and then walked naked out into the surrounding area to dry off and dress. She felt violated.

“Don Tobar is arriving shortly,” Catarina said in her sweet voice. She laid the clothes next to Sky. “He always likes us to dress beautifully when he graces us with his presence. I hope you don’t mind. I saw your beautiful blue eyes and so I chose a pale lavender blouse with dark blue linen slacks and a thin leather belt.” She held the belt up in her long, graceful hand, her nails matching the color of her lipstick. “Isn’t the buckle gorgeous? Look, it is eighteen carat gold set with tiny turquoise gemstones set in it. The gemstones perfectly match your eyes. I think Don Tobar will be very pleased with the clothes I’ve chosen for you.”

“Where am I?” Sky demanded, her fingers digging into the mattress where she sat, her legs hanging over the bed. She saw Catarina’s long, oval face grow flushed. She seemed artless to Sky. Innocent, maybe. But incredibly gorgeous.

“Don Tobar will tell you,” she said in a wispy voice, her smile growing. “He is a man of many surprises. Our job,” and she gracefully gestured around the room, “is to make him happy. He’s a very stressed businessman, and when he comes to La Paloma Villa, we are here to please him, make him relax and forget his business world.”

“Your job?” Sky said, frowning.

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