Page 18 of Ghost

She inched her gaze up jean-clad legs and caught sight of a red flannel jacket.An image of that checkered pattern surfaced in her mind.She’d been carried through the darkness in warm, strong arms.

Her captor got to his feet and his boots grew closer.He dropped to one knee next to her.His fingers came near her face.For some reason she couldn’t explain, she didn’t jump as he eased the tape off her mouth.

Strange.He’d done the same thing before but had ripped the adhesive viciously from her lips.He flicked the tape from his fingers then reached for her arms.This time, the jerk of her body was visceral.

“Easy,” he said gruffly.

Her eyes sprang open wider as she watched him withdraw a switchblade from his pocket.Seconds later her hands were free.

Her arms dropped forward.Blood rushed to her tingling extremities so fast and hot she hissed.

A large hand cupped her elbow.“Sit up.”

Not a request.She wanted to hurl insults.To ask him if he’d be able to sit after being bound and freezing cold for hours.She didn’t reply simply because she needed to conserve her energy.

He pulled her into a sitting position.She placed her hands on the plastic-covered cement floor so she wouldn’t fold forward and pass out.The room spun and nausea assaulted her senses.She ran her tongue over her lips and grimaced as the action pried them apart.Pain pulsed through her body.Everything was sore from running, and her skull felt as if it were being jackhammered.

Her captor didn’t let go of her arm.His steady hold anchored her, keeping her from toppling forward.

She wanted to push him away.To burrow back under the warm blanket and hide from his intense glare.

He leaned closer and his face came into focus.The stubble on his jaw was thicker and darker than it’d been last night, the whites of his eyes a little red, and his mouth tense.As though he despised her.

Well, he should.Because as soon as she got her strength back, she was going to kill him—or run.

He reached for a mug.Steam billowed from it.When he placed it in her hands, she almost moaned.The heat warmed her fingers, making them throb.

“Drink.”

Another command.

She stared down at the mug.“What’d you put in it?”Her voice was hoarse, and speaking made her dry lips ache.

“I didn’t poison you the first time, did I?”

The corner of her mouth twitched.No, he hadn’t.She brought the cup to her lips and sipped the hot brew, not caring that her tongue burned a little.Sweetness filled her mouth and she fought another groan at what little peace the drink offered her soul.

He kept his hand on her.She didn’t tell him to move it.For a second, she felt he didn’t want her to fall.Which surely wasn’t the case.

She met his eyes.“You did worse than poison me.”

His jaw twitched.“Let’s start again.Anna, is it?”

She narrowed her eyes.“Am I supposed to be impressed you looked up my driver’s license?”

“No.Any idiot could do that.But I know that’s not your real name.So why don’t we start there?I promise I don’t want to do this shit.”

She would have laughed if doing so wouldn’t have used up the last of her reserves.He just wanted her out of his hair.Dead.And the sooner she cooperated, the sooner that’d happen.She needed to buy time.

“I don’t know who hired me,” she said, deflecting his original question.She took another long sip.“You’d have a better idea than me.”

He let go of her as if she’d burned him.He took the mug from her fingers and glowered at her.“I’m going to give you some time to think about it.But when I come back through that door,” he said, gesturing toward it, “you’d better have something for me.Or things are going to get really fucking ugly,Anna.”

He stood abruptly, taking away the warm coffee and storming outside.

But he left the blanket behind.

CHAPTER 7