“Wire the payment,” said Bain. “I’ll call you when it’s complete.”
He turned off the phone before Boss could add any smartass comment about doing things right or not fucking up again. A lecture was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. Bain took a cleansing breath and set his phone back down.
The chair was empty.
Are you fucking kidding me? The little reporter moved fast. Too bad her escape attempt was in vain. His house was more secure than Fort Knox, so there was no getting out without his security code. He checked around the main floor, not finding her. The house wasn’t huge, so there were only so many places she could hide. It was fucking late, and he needed to get some sleep in preparation for his hit tomorrow. He’d have to be up early and plan out his strategy since he’d been given less than twenty-four hours prep time.
He ran back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. His bedroom still had the fragrant scent of the bath water. She was nowhere to be found, which meant she could only be one other place—the basement. He hated going down there.
After reaching the door leading to the lower level, he flicked on the light for the lone bulb. It hardly cast any light, creating eerie shadows against the walls. He took the steps slowly, cautiously. Scarlett was feisty, so he didn’t trust her not to blindside him with a pipe or crowbar. There was a lot of old shit stored in the basement when he’d bought the house, but he couldn’t bring himself to clear it out.
“I know you’re down here, sweetheart. I’m really not in the mood, so make it easier for yourself and stop playing games.”
No response.
“If I have to climb these stairs without you, I’ll lock the fucking door and let you starve to death. It won’t be fast, and it won’t be pleasant. Is that what you want?”
The sound of an empty Mason jar tipping over caught his attention. She was behind the furnace. Bain cracked his knuckles as he stalked closer. When he neared, she darted out the other side and ran for the stairs. As she tried to crawl up on her hands and knees, he caught her around the waist, tugging her back down and trapping her against the wall with his body. Bain held both her wrists down at her sides.
“Let me go!” she screamed. He gave her credit for struggling like a wild woman. It took a bit of effort to secure her thrashing body.
“Maybe if you hadn’t worn a skirt you would have made it up the stairs, but that’s as far as you would have gotten.”
“Get off me!”
“Settle down,” he said. “If you don’t stop I’ll tie you back to the chair and leave you here.” His head was fucking pounding. He released her wrist to rub the back of his neck, and she used the opportunity to pound her little fist against his bare chest.
“That all you got?”
They began to struggle again, and she managed to get up the stairs this time. Why was he even humoring her? He stopped to pick up one of his Glocks from the kitchen, and then caught her in the hallway, grabbing one arm in a firm hold.
“Hit me! I don’t care,” she shouted, her eyes filled with tears.
“How about I put a bullet in your head instead, like I should have when I found you?”
Her struggle suddenly ceased when he aimed the gun at her temple, the power in her arms going limp as if her fire had been doused. “Do it,” she whispered. “Maybe you’ll be doing me a favor.”
Her green eyes were so big and child-like even though she was very much a woman. She intrigued him. It was the way she’d said her last words. Her tone had changed, as if she’d lost her very soul. “You want to die now?”
“I’ve been to hell and back already. I’m well aware there are things worse than death.”
He released his breath. She had secrets of her own, but he’d let her keep them for now. When he didn’t feel like shit, he’d get her to confess it all.
“Well, it’s your lucky day because I can’t kill you yet.” He pointed to the staircase going up, and this time she followed his order. “I have to be sure no one knew you were at Semenov’s place. I can’t have any more loose ends. Since I have a job tomorrow, I’ll be taking you with me. You’ve shown you can’t be trusted.”
“You can’t earn my loyalty by kidnapping me.”
He closed his bedroom door behind them. “Get on the bed,” he said.
“What?”
“The bed. Get on it. It’s past fucking midnight, and I have to be up early.”
She walked backward, not taking her eyes off him. If he’d wanted to, he could have beat the shit out her, raped her, and killed her a dozen different ways. The fact she still had a look of fear in her eyes was starting to piss him off.
The light hurt his head, so as soon as she sat on the bed, he turned off all the lights. Only a faint glow from the moon filtered in through the window. He didn’t have curtains on the second-floor rooms. Bain couldn’t even count the number of nights he’d lie awake on his bed, staring up at the moon, feeling nothing and everything at the same time. He was fucked up, and there was no way to undo the damage. He was waste of breath. When he died, he’d leave nothing behind, not even a legacy or heir … just death.
He tossed his joggers and slipped under the blankets.