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Some part of her wanted to comfort him. The guy might be some super trained efficient machine, but had he known love? Had he known comfort? Harry wasn’t exactly the most tactile or expressive guy. He expected a lot from his charge and always pushed him to give more.
“I used to have a friend,” she said, hyperaware of the vast black sky reflecting the energy of the city back down on itself. “Guy was so laid back, he thought being upright was some sort of expert yoga move. Wasn’t really the kind of guy to get himself stressed about anything, but every once in a while he’d say something real, something profound…” Raising her focus to his, Tess’s expression softened. “He used to say nothing’s too broken to fix.” The admission startled him. “Maybe things can’t be put back to exactly the way they were before, but with enough hard work, anything is possible.”
The room door opened. Without turning to check who was coming in, Daire’s finger drifted away from hers. Harry approached with a tray and an ice bucket.
Daire couldn’t help being who he was, but that didn’t change his priorities. Despite the negatives of his upbringing, he liked the regime. Taking orders, carrying out missions, those were his life and the only one he’d known. The one he chose. Tess wouldn’t change him, couldn’t. That meant she had to be stronger in protecting herself.
“There,” Harry said, dumping everything on the dresser by the TV. “Now don’t leave this room and don’t open the door to anyone.”
With a mock salute, Tess went back to sink onto the bed again. “Yes, sir. I’ll park myself right here.”
Harry glanced from her to the food and back again. “You don’t want to eat?”
“Not now,” she said, snagging the remote to put on the TV. “I’ll get to it in my own sweet time.”
“Trouble,” Harry muttered. It seemed he found focusing on Daire much easier. “Ready to do this?”
“Yes, sir.”
At an almost march, the two men left the room without looking back. They had a mission. Good for them.
Sighing, she slouched against the pillows. Living on the road, with men who didn’t trust her or believe her competent, was going to be tough. Tess wasn’t dumb enough to think that she was as capable as them. Still, it would be nice, for once, to be more than just an inconvenience in someone’s life.
TESS HADN’T MEANT TO fall asleep. The television was still on when she awoke. Sitting up, she scanned the space, trying to remember where she was and what was going on. The hotel. The mission. Harry. Daire. Three.
Inhaling, she cupped her face with both hands to scrub away the remnants of slumber. In the truck that day, she hadn’t been able to sleep. When Danny was driving, she’d never thought twice about drifting off. Somehow, it wasn’t the same with Daire and Harry in the front. Sleeping would’ve meant missing the chance to gather information. The men were open and direct when talking to each other. Not so much with her. Eavesdropping wasn’t the most enlightening plan, but it was what she had.
The dim illumination of the wall lamp didn’t help wake her up; the noise of the room door handle did that. Taking her face from her hands, Tess waited in silence. It moved again. If Harry or Daire were trying to get in, they sucked with keycards. There wouldn’t be anything wrong in using the peephole, would there?
She got as far as the end of the narrow hall leading to the door when it opened, stopping her dead. Not Harry or Daire. A stranger. A mean, capable looking stranger. The two of them looked at each other for a couple of seconds.
“Who are you?” she asked, trying to decide if she could rush him and escape. “I’ll scream if you—”
He raised a weapon. Without saying a word, he aimed and fired. Gasping in a scream of surprise, the piercing impact stung, but it wasn’t agony. Maybe her brain hadn’t got the message she’d been shot. But it wasn’t a bullet. A small silver dart jutted from her shoulder. Not a bullet, a…
Her mind slowed, the room spun, and before she could say a thing, the black veil of night consumed her.
THIRTY-TWO
LONG BEFORE HER EYES actually opened, Tess was aware of lying on something soft, of being warm and loose. The clean scent of the pillow beneath her head complemented the freshness permeating the air. The drowsy fog didn’t ascend from her senses even after her eyelids parted.
She tried to focus through the glare of bright light shining beyond the window. The hotel. Her memories faded in and out. The light, the window… she wasn’t in a high-rise building anymore. There were plants outside, some kind of trees, houses, greenery… It wasn’t The Strip.
Sitting up, she clutched her heavy head to prevent it from falling into the pillow again. Her mouth was dry, her senses dull. What the hell had happened? Where was she? All she could remember was Daire walking out with Harry.
Something had happened after. Something… Grabbing her shoulder, Tess pushed the thin strap of her dress aside to search for evidence of the dart. The smallest red prick confirmed it wasn’t a dream. She’d been shot… with some kind of tranquilizer. That would explain her being so groggy.
Shoving the white covers away from her body, she glanced up at the wispy white fabric draped over the metal frame above the bed. Wriggling to the edge of the mattress, the platform bed was almost at floor level. After liberating her feet from the canopy, cool tile met her soles. The hard surface was a nice juxtaposition to the sumptuous bed. It was something to cling to, something solid and real.
Her head still ached. At her first attempt to rise, she failed and immediately dropped to her butt. Catching her forehead on the heel of her hand, she didn’t think about the pain or the confusion. She thought about Daire. About the man who’d dedicated his life to a cause that cast him out. Whatever he was thinking, wherever he was, either he’d be basking in glory or drowning in defeat. Why was he plaguing her?
The room. The building. Wherever she was. It wasn’t the hotel. Her father and Daire could’ve orchestrated the “kidnap” to stash her somewhere out of their way. It was that or the dreaded Z had caught up with her.
Giving herself another minute to cast off the weight of sleep, Tess took stock by figuring out what she could see. Straight ahead was a low dresser with a television on it. To the left was a door, on the same wall as the head of the bed. A window occupied the wall behind her. Avoiding the light definitely helped her head.
Opposite the end of the bed were three doors. The one closest to the windows was tinted glass, so it probably went outside. The other two were closed. Three options. One to the left. Two to the right.
Forcing herself onto her feet in a wide stance, she opened her arms to get her balance. Memories of the roller rink flashed by. She wished Danny was behind her again, there to keep her steady. Forget that. Forget him. He wasn’t real.
