Run to Me: A Novel Read online

  “Thanks. I’ll tell the decorator you said so. Now, what the hell do you want?”

  Gabe took another swig of beer, set the bottle on the table, and blew out a long sigh.

  A strange tension zipped up Ethan’s spine. “Must be something major for you to take so long in answering.”

  “It’s Shea.”

  The words were quietly spoken, but the impact to his heart and mind were like bombs exploding. He turned toward the kitchen window, unwilling to allow his former friend to see the naked pain. “She dead?”

  “No. If only it were that simple.”

  Ethan turned sharply and growled, “What the hell does that mean?”

  “She’s gone sour.”

  Ethan snorted his disbelief. “Shea wouldn’t turn south. I’d believe you turned before her.”

  “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Gabe waited a beat, allowing Ethan to absorb his statement. “We’ve got positive intel.”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck what you’ve got. Shea Monroe would never betray LCR. Not for money …” He shrugged. “Not for anything.”

  “Noah feels the same way.”

  “But you don’t.”

  Gabe didn’t flinch from Ethan’s direct gaze. “You know Shea was never my favorite person after she and Cole married.”

  “Shea did the right thing by marrying Cole. But that’s beside the point. Give me what you know.”

  “First I have to have your agreement on something.”

  “What?”

  “Noah wants you to find her. If she’s turned, you’re to bring her in. If she’s in trouble, he wants her rescued.”

  “Why me?”

  “Says you’re the only one who’d be able to determine if Shea has truly turned.”

  Crossing the room, Ethan slumped into a chair across from Gabe. Noah McCall had fired his ass for very valid reasons; Ethan didn’t blame him. Besides, he owed Noah his sanity and his life. The man knew he’d do almost anything for him. But this was Shea. And Noah knew Ethan would slay dragons and fight an army for the woman he’d once loved and lost. Yeah, McCall was right on the money to ask him to go in. No one had more to lose than Ethan if something happened to Shea.

  He owed Shea Monroe a whole lot … more than he could ever repay. After all, not only had he broken her heart, he’d also gotten her husband killed.

  “Begin!”

  The young man rushed toward her, fast and hard. His mouth was crimped, tight with determination; his eyes reflected the fear and nervousness of a new recruit. She waited. At the last second, she pivoted and swooped out of his way. He stumbled across the mat, teetering, unable to recover his balance. She twisted and delivered a swift, controlled kick to his head with the side of her foot. Blankness crossed his face an instant before he thudded to the mat.

  She whirled, confronted another opponent, and put him down just as easily. Eventually, they came at her in twos. With no emotion and little thought, she dispatched them one by one onto the mat.

  Panting lightly, she turned to her teacher and bowed. His eyes gleamed with appreciation and lust. She had the ability to recognize emotions without feeling them herself. Sometimes she wondered what they felt like … emotions. Most times, she didn’t think about it. She served a purpose. It gave her no satisfaction, no sense of completion. Their expectation and her fulfillment of that expectation filled her day and that was it … nothing more.

  Today was a demonstration, not training. Her superiors required her to show the new soldiers what was expected of them. If these had been highly trained fighters, she would have had more trouble. These young men were nothing more than inexperienced, unformed amoebas. They would be shaped, molded, and taught how to kill. Until then, she, among others, would show them how inept and ineffectual they were.

  One of the younger men lay before her, unmoving. She blinked down at him. Why didn’t he get up? Two others came, grabbed him by his shoulders and feet, and hauled him away. She blinked again, her knees weakening, she stumbled. Noise like a thousand tiny bees roared in her ears. What was wrong with the man? Why were his eyes still closed?

  “That’s enough for today.”

  She turned to her teacher, confusion flooding her mind with questions. “Why doesn’t he move?”

  When his eyes narrowed into slits, she knew she had angered him. Speaking was allowed only to answer a direct question. It was not her right to question anyone at the compound. Punishment would follow if the teacher chose to report her.

  “Your duties are over.” His hand wrapped around a hank of her hair and gave it a vicious tug as he pulled her to the door. Since this was the only place anyone other than the master was allowed to discipline her, she was accustomed to the sharp sting. “Go to your room. You don’t want to be late.”

  Alarm exploded. No, she couldn’t be late for her vitamin shot. She received an injection each evening to make her stronger … more focused and capable. She always looked forward to it because it did make her feel better. By the time she was given the shot, she was always weak, her mind blurring and asking questions for which she had no answers. The vitamins would race through her system, and within minutes, she would once more be strong and renewed, no longer confused or disoriented.

  Dashing down the hallway, she ran into her bedroom. Hands shaking, breath coming in near-panicked spurts, she halted when she saw him, knowing he would instruct her further.

  “You are almost late. I almost had to wait for you.”

  She forced herself to ignore the wild hammering inside as her eyes lowered in supplication and obedience. “My apologies.”

  “You know I don’t like to wait. If it happens again, I’ll withhold your vitamins for a few days. Once again you’ll see how important obedience is. Do you understand?”

  “Yes sir.” She had been punished this way in the past. Throughout the long nights and interminable days, agony filled her. Visions and nightmares of demons screamed into her mind while pain rippled through her body as though glass shredded her insides into millions of pieces.

  Through each punishment, she had been taught a proper lesson, correcting her behavior for one infraction or the other. The lessons had been well learned and well deserved. Only after apologizing and begging for forgiveness was she once again favored with an injection. She worked hard never to disappoint her master again and force him to punish her.

  “Take your clothes off.”

  Relieved that she had been forgiven, she clawed and tore at her clothes, dropping them on the floor. Once nude, she stood before him, waiting for more instructions.

  “On the bed. Now.”

  Crawling onto the bed, she lay facedown and lifted her bottom, allowing him to inject the vitamins into her buttocks. She paid no attention to the tall, silent man standing in the corner of the room. His emotionless blue-eyed stare meant nothing. He was here at the master’s command, as he often was. His presence wasn’t hers to question.

  As the vitamins swept through her, she closed her eyes in anticipation of relief. Peace and serenity would soon permeate her entire being, and she would be renewed with energy and stamina. Then, when allowed, she would go forward with whatever pleased her master.

  His will was hers, and she was his to command.

  two

  The drone of the private jet beneath his feet barely penetrated Ethan’s consciousness. Photographs spread out before him held his total concentration. The surveillance cameras were exceptionally good, especially when picking up someone with exquisite bone structure.

  Gabe was right. Shea didn’t bother to hide or disguise her face. It wasn’t as if she stared into the cameras—she just acted as though they didn’t exist. She had to know she was being photographed. That every movement of that gorgeous body and every expression on her face would be picked up. Why would—

  Breath seized in his lungs. Shea was still beautiful, her full mouth just as bewitching as before, but something was missing, and that was the part that ripped at him. The face he’d seen a million and one times in both his dreams and reality was the most animated, expression-filled face imaginable. But this woman, who looked identical to Shea, down to the velvet-black beauty mark just below her left eye, revealed no expression or emotion. It was a mask of sheer beauty and nothing more … like a mannequin.

  For a brief, wild moment, he wondered if Donald Rosemount had somehow achieved the creation of a lifelike robot. Crazy idea, but no more so than the thought that Shea Monroe had turned bad. Shea didn’t have it in her to be bad.

  Ethan’s first glimpse of Shea was a vivid, poignant memory. He had walked into an LCR training room and jerked to a stop at the sound of the most joyous laugh he’d ever heard. Whirling around, he’d spotted three attractive women. While his eyes appreciated each of them, it was the one in the middle he couldn’t stop staring at. Never had he seen a more lively, animated, or precocious expression. For a young man who’d left joy and happiness behind years before, the sound of her laughter, seeping into his soul, immediately began to heal something inside him. Sparkling green eyes had stared at him with unashamed curiosity. A wide smile curved her full lips, inviting and encouraging him to smile back. At that moment, Ethan had known his life would be changed forever.

  Most LCR operatives had come from a bad circumstance, some worse than others. Shea’s innate openness gave her the ability to share her experience with Ethan. None of the circumstances she’d endured had been her fault. Ethan had felt enormous pride in her for not only escaping but also wanting to help others escape. Her courage astounded him; her heart humbled him.

  The obnoxious buzz of his new cellphone interrupted thoughts he’d rather not dwell on anyway. Didn’t do a damn bit of good other than to remind him how freaking stupid he’d been.


  Ethan flipped the phone open. “Yeah?”

  “Nice to know your phone etiquette hasn’t changed.”

  As Ethan settled back into his seat, his mouth kicked up into a grin. “Heard you got married, old man.”

  Noah McCall snorted. “Old man, hell. You’re a year older.”

  “Yeah, but at least I’m not tied to a ball and chain.”

  Extreme satisfaction tinged McCall’s voice. “You’ve met my wife. No ball and chain could ever be so beautiful.”

  Remembering the petite, dark-haired beauty Noah had once ordered him to protect, Ethan had to agree. “You’re right about that. I understand you’re going to be a dad, too. Having over a hundred adopted kids not enough for you?”

  “You guys all grew up and left me. At least with a baby, I can have a few extra years.”

  “Congratulations. I’m happy for you.” Ethan meant that sincerely. No one deserved happiness more than the man who’d saved so many.

  “Thanks. Now, tell me how you’re doing.”

  “Fine … till Gabe showed up.”

  “I knew you’d want the opportunity.”

  “Hell, you knew I couldn’t turn it down.” Ethan picked up a photo again. The expressionless face still bothered him. “You got any more intel?”

  “Another abduction last night. Wealthy American’s wife. Taken outside a shopping mall in San Diego. No ransom demand yet, but the abduction’s similar to all the others. Meaning it’ll take another day before we find out how much they want.”

  “Shea involved in this one, too?”

  “Looks like it … from what we can see from the security cameras in the parking lot.”

  A thought came to him, something he hadn’t asked before. “And they’ve all been returned, after the ransom’s delivered?”

  “Of the ones we believe Rosemount’s responsible for, all but one was returned.”

  “What happened?”

  “Not sure. Her body washed up on a beach in Florida. Throat sliced open.”

  Ethan rubbed the persistent throb between his eyes. “Was Shea involved in that one?”

  “Don’t know. The victim was nabbed outside a friend’s home. No cameras available. There was a request for money … it wasn’t paid in time.”

  “Hell,” Ethan said quietly, “he was making a point.”

  “Yeah, not one we want to see repeated.”

  “The ones returned … they couldn’t help?”

  “No. Drugged and blindfolded the entire time.”

  “How many have been taken so far?”

  “With this particular pattern, seven that we know of.”

  “All American?”

  “Only two from the U.S. … including the one last night. One from Italy … the rest from Mexico.”

  “And you’re sure it’s Rosemount’s group?”

  “Oh yeah, we’ve seen several of his henchmen. Took us some time, but we were finally able to track one of them. Lost him for a while, then our people picked up his trail in Ixtapa.”

  “And Shea’s been involved in two … make that three … after last night?”

  “We’ve got positive intel on those three, not sure about any others.” McCall blew out a long sigh. “You know her better than anyone. You think it’s possible she’s turned?”

  “Not just no. Hell no. She’s gone deep cover … that’s the only explanation. Cole’s death messed her up.” Ethan was grateful that Noah didn’t say the obvious. Cole’s death had affected someone other than Shea. “Shea always acted first and thought later. And you know deep cover was never her strong point. She’s probably in so deep, she can’t get out. But no way in hell would she turn.”

  “I trust your judgment. You got everything you need?”

  “Got an exact location yet?”

  “Not yet. Last time our people checked in, Ixtapa was still as close as they’d gotten. They’ll be waiting on the ground for you and should have more by now.”

  “Good.”

  “Sure you don’t want Gabe with you?”

  “No, it’s best I go in alone.”

  “I don’t want you sacrificing yourself. You can’t get her out, make damn sure you get out alive.”

  Ethan didn’t bother to respond. If Shea was no longer on this earth, he didn’t see much point in being on it either. He’d just make sure he took Rosemount with him.

  “I’ll be in touch when I can.”

  McCall ended the call with a gruff “See that you are.”

  Picking up another photograph, Ethan tried to read something in her expression. There had to be something … anything that would give him an idea of what was going on in that beautiful head. The photograph was black and white, so her vibrant colors didn’t show. Shea had startling green eyes and deep, rich auburn hair. But still, there should be something … some kind of emotion or expression. There was nothing. She looked like a beautiful doll.

  What had happened to the vivacious, emotional woman who could laugh or cry with such ease? He remembered being completely stunned the first time he saw her cry. Ignoring his grumblings, she’d dragged him to a chick flick with a happy ending. The theater had been dark, so it wasn’t until they were walking to the car that he saw her frantically wipe at her eyes, as if she didn’t want him to notice.

  Seeing Shea cry had done something to his heart that day. Melted it? Who the hell knows. He remembered grabbing her shoulders and pulling her to his chest. She’d broken down then, soaking his shirt. He’d held her, kissed the top of her head from time to time, and relished every tear she shed. A part of him envied the ability she had of so freely expressing her emotions. Wondered how that would feel.

  He always thought that might have been the day he’d tumbled off the precipice and fallen completely in love with her. Only to crash and burn a few years later.

  “Mr. Bishop, we’re landing.”

  He nodded at the flight attendant, gathered the reports and photographs, and slid them back into the large envelope. Tonight, when he was alone, he’d take them out and try to make sense out of the unexplainable.

  The plane made a soft bounce against the tarmac, and within minutes, Ethan was saying good-bye to the small crew and heading down the stairway toward the man and woman waiting for him.

  The man, medium height with a handlebar mustache and a wide smile, greeted him, “Ethan, good to see you. I’m Gibson.” He gestured to a tall, slender woman. “This is Maria.”

  Ethan shook their hands, accustomed by now to hearing only first names. LCR often used fake names, so he doubted either had used their real ones.

  “Good flight?” Gibson asked.

  Ethan jerked his head in a nod. “I understand there was another incident last night?”

  Gibson waved his arm toward a dark green SUV gleaming in the late-afternoon sun. “Let’s get out of this heat. We just got some new information I think you’ll be pleased to see.”

  Ethan hadn’t even noticed the warmth of the day, but poor Gibson’s mustache drooped with sweat. He headed for the vehicle and jumped into the front passenger seat, not for the first time appreciating the powerful influence of LCR. Bypassing customs was one of the many perks operatives were allowed.

  While Maria drove, Gibson handed him a packet and updated him on what they’d learned. “We believe she’s in a compound about thirty miles outside Ixtapa. Of course, the land belongs to a corporation buried within other corporations, but we’re almost certain Rosemount owns the property.”

  “And Shea’s been seen at the compound? We got anybody on the inside?”

  Maria shot Ethan a regretful look. “Our people have seen someone who strongly resembles Shea walking around the perimeter, but we’ve been unable to infiltrate the compound. We’ve seen Rosemount’s men go back and forth, so we’re fairly sure he’s been there. Since the man is almost a complete recluse and none of us knows what he really looks like, we, of course, can’t verify that.”

  Ethan nodded, aware that this was how Donald Rosemount had avoided capture for so long. Only those people who worked for him knew what he looked like. The ones who no longer worked for him no longer lived. An added danger for Shea. Getting her out was one thing, but if she’d seen Rosemount, and Ethan assumed she had, the bastard wouldn’t rest until Shea was dead.