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The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance Page 15
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“Hannes, I need the account numbers where you want this transferred.” With no answer, she turned in the chair. He leaned against the bureau staring at her. His serious face let his emerald eyes cut into her. His hair was mussed with soft layers that brushed his collar. Butterflies whirled in her stomach. She quickly spun back to face the laptop. Dammit—all he had to do was stand there and she’d melt. Her heart tightened. She would never, could never, love someone who killed for a living.
She sighed. “Today, Hannes.”
“I will enter the numbers.” His voice came right beside her ear, startling her. How did he move so quickly without making a single sound? He’d done that before to her.
Leah scooted from the chair. “Hit enter when you’re done.” After a few seconds, he closed the laptop. Leah kept her back to him. So many emotions filled her: thoughts of her dad and how he didn’t truly abandon her, strange feelings for a man who was an absolute pain in the ass, fear for a child she desperately wanted to save and would never forgive herself if she didn’t.
Hannes cleared his throat behind her. “That’s a start. What else can you give me?”
Leah’s jaw dropped. How greedy can one person be? “I-I don’t have anything except my clothes.”
He leaned forward and held out his hand. “Those will do.”
Her eyes popped wide. One look at her face and a laughing fit broke Hannes’ stern manner. She spun and dropped into the chair, hiding her burning face. She pushed her head into the cushion and cursed him under her breath. If he wanted to get personal, then she’d get personal.
Remaining faced away from him, Leah shoved up her sleeves. Any self-censorship she usually controlled evaporated. “I should’ve expected that from you. All you want is the sex. Women are objects you throw away and replace whenever you want. You don’t give a damn about their feelings. Just as long as you can leave when you’re done.”
She waited for his heated reply. He kept silent. Ivan opened the door, and Leah jumped up. She snatched her toothbrush and paste from his hands and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door closed.
She could hear Ivan through the door speaking with surprise. “I was only gone for a second. What did you say to her?”
Hannes chuckled. “It’s just women, kid. Hopefully one day you’ll understand them better than I do.”
Jerk!
TWENTY-SEVEN
Leah and Ivan slacked behind the commander on their way down the stairs to breakfast. “Listen carefully, Ivan.” She laid her hand on his cheek and focused his eyes on her. “I’ve made a deal with Hannes to get us off the boat alive.” She pointed a warning finger at him. “But keep your mouth shut. Don’t say anything because it may jeopardize the plan.”
With his fingers, he zipped his lips closed then made a motion with his hand as if throwing away a key. If she’d known shutting him up was that easy… She grinned.
As they descended the last steps, Leah realized her attacker would be in the same room, at the same table. Her feet stopped, eyes fixated on the wall next to the galley door.
“Hurry up. We’re waiting on you.” Ivan popped his head out the doorway. Steeling her emotions, she curled her hands into fists. She could do this. He did not control her.
Painting on a big smile, she walked into the aroma-filled room. She felt Korhonen’s gaze--her heart sputtered. Her knees wobbled. She was going to pass out!
Gracefully, she took her customary seat, opened the napkin and put it in her lap. Everyone commenced eating as she wrapped her hands in the white linen, strangling the blood flow to her trembling fingers.
A few minutes into the meal, Hannes glanced at her untouched plate, and then at her with questioning emeralds. Leah’s faux smile wilted on the ends. If she remained out of sorts, he would drill her for an answer. She didn’t want to talk about the attack or ever think about it again.
Her steady hand lifted a fork and put food in her mouth. With a smirk, Hannes shook his head and returned his attention to his plate. After picking out the onions in the scrambled eggs, her fear ebbed. The routine of living would bring her back to her usual self.
The commander set his fork on a crumb-covered plate. The men snapped to full attention. “At ease. Keep eating. Time is short this morning.” Firm and in control, he spoke with an authority and grace Leah had never seen. “As you know, there has been a change in schedule. The ship is docking for emergency repairs in Ponta Delgada.” Filled with respect, all eyes watched him. “I’m assuming everyone has made their travel arrangements by now.”
Leah glanced at Korhonen. His cheeks glowed with red splotches, and the veins in his neck pulsed close to the surface. Maybe his and Hannes’ disagreement last night in Hannes’ cabin was over “protocol” and what was to happen to her and Ivan. New fear ran through her. Could Hannes physically stop Korhonen if it came to blows?
“Portside, this mission’s extraction will terminate. I will contact you about payment later. Any questions?” Silence. “Topside in thirty minutes.”
Standing in the center of the deck, Leah drew in a breath of cool air. Even though the ship was towed by a tug a fraction of the vessel’s size, she didn’t want to get any closer to the side until time to disembark.
The rising sun cast a warm glow on row upon row of light colored buildings squashed against the waterfront. Chicago also packed against the water, but this area had a “long ago” sense. She felt the history here.
Ivan wrapped his black T-shirt around the knee hole in his jeans then pushed up his sweatshirt sleeves. “Wow. Where are we? Look at all the little buildings.”
Maricio put his hand on Ivan’s shoulder. “We are in Les Açores. A place of great history and beauty.”
Leah held her breath while the seven-hundred-foot boat gently docked against the port with only the tugboat for assistance. And she thought parallel parking a car was impossible!
Behind her, all of Hannes’ men gathered. Korhonen stood next to Hannes--not a word exchanged.
The commander led the team onto the pier stacked with hundreds of metal containers identical to those on the ship. In front of the warehouses, a long-haired man wearing sunglasses stood next to three black sedans. He handed Hannes a packet of papers and a set of keys. Leah assumed she and Ivan were to follow.
“Hey! Let go! Leah, help!”
She whipped around and saw Korhonen dragging Ivan toward the car on the far end. “Ivan!” She ran toward him.
Behind her, Hannes’ voice rang out, “Leah, no!”
She kept running.
“LEAH!”
She stopped and looked at Hannes then back at Ivan, punching Korhonen with no effect.
“He’ll be okay.”
She turned and glared at Hannes.
“I promise.”
Ivan yelled for her. Her heart crushed. Tears burned her eyes. How could she leave the one who taught her to be strong? Who inspired her to find faith in family? Who gave her back the ability to trust and care?
She started walking, then running toward Ivan. Korhonen was trying to shove the boy into the front seat of the car when Leah reached them.
“Back off, asshole!” She glared at the beast, swallowing her fear to protect Ivan.
Korhonen’s eyes narrowed, but he dropped the boy and walked away. Leah scooped him up and held his head between her hands, close to her face. His lip and ear piercings were gone. She clasped his hands in hers and looked at his colorless nails and bare wrists. “Why did you take everything off?”
He sniffled. “I don’t need anything to tell me who I am. Men should be judged by what they do, not how they look.”
Leah hugged him. He was paying attention when Hannes said those words days ago. Her heart cried when she let go. This was his chance to live, to find a better life.
She laid her hands on his shoulders and looked into his wet eyes. “When you get home, promise me you’ll find new friends. Kids like you, who don’t force others to conform. Do something good with your life.�
�� She bit down on her tongue to keep from melting into tears. What was she going to say to convince him everything would be okay? A viable excuse popped into her head. “Listen to me, Ivan. They have to split us up for security reasons.”
Tears poured down the young boy’s cheeks. She brushed thick bangs out of his eyes. “Korhonen won’t hurt you. Hannes told him not to. We’re both going to be fine.”
Not able to talk through sobs, he nodded. Leah wrapped her arms around him. “Don’t tell the media or police anything that would make you a target for these guys to come find you. You have to keep your family safe. Okay? Can you do that for me?”
He nodded, wiping at his face.
“And when we get to the Consulate, get inside the building as fast as you can. Don’t look back, keep going forward…always.” She released her grip and kissed his forehead. “Be good. Now, get in the car.”
He sat in the seat, and she closed the door. This was the last time she’d ever see him. Once again, someone she loved was ripped from her. She fought the overpowering sadness. Why did she let herself get attached? She knew how it would end: alone.
Korhonen slammed his door shut and started the engine. The middle car with the others men sped off behind Korhonen. Leah sprinted to the last car. She threw open the passenger door and knelt in the middle of the seat. She grabbed Hannes by the shirt, and pulled herself toward him.
“If that bastard hurts Ivan, I swear to God, I will find a way to kill him and you for letting him.” Her body shook, vehement hostility pouring from her heart.
Hannes stared into her watery eyes and remained silent. She wanted to scream at him, hit him upside the head, wrap up in his arms and hide from the world. She released her grip on his shirt, sat, and closed the door. Leaning her forehead against the cool window, she fought the tears threatening to break her spirit.
Several minutes later, Leah spoke with a strong, steady voice. “How will I know if Ivan gets to the place safely?”
“You’ll watch him go in.”
They drove in silence. She stared out the window, seeing nothing. When they slowed and pulled into a parking lot, Hannes reached into the backseat and lugged his backpack onto the console between them. He opened a pouch and took out a cell phone and a pair of binoculars.
He parked the car and stepped onto the asphalt lot. Talking on the phone, Hannes came around and opened her door. He raised the binoculars and looked across the street.
A modern three floor building with cream colored exterior sat back from the road. In the center above the main entrance, a rounded balcony jutted out under a window on each level. A raised concrete flowerbed out front featured red flowers around a sign reading American Consulate.
Hannes handed Leah the binoculars and pointed down the street. “Watch the intersection down there.”
Leah raised the binoculars and followed the street’s path to her right. A dark colored car turned the corner and slowed in front of the circular drive. The passenger side door opened, and a thin body ran toward the building. The car screeched away. Tears of relief sprang to her eyes. He was alive and safe.
On the back side of the colorful garden, Ivan stopped and leaned against the edge, huffing and watching the road. Shortly, a guard exited the front doors and approached him. The conversation between the two was short before the guard headed back inside with Ivan in tow. Ivan shook loose of his guide and ran down the drive, looking along the street. What was he doing?
Then she realized--he was waiting for her. Tears threatened again. She hadn’t told him she wouldn’t be joining him for his trip home. She watched Ivan push away the guard and grab onto the fence.
Leah whispered, “Go, Ivan.”
The guard gently pulled the boy away and led him up the drive. Shaking with sobs, Ivan disappeared inside the building, forever gone.
Blinking away tears, she felt satisfied he was safe. She lowered the binoculars and shoved them into Hannes’ stomach. “We can go now.” She opened the car door, swallowing a huge sob.
TWENTY-EIGHT
While Hannes drove, Leah stared at the world zipping by. Mercenaries killed for money. Things didn’t look good. She breathed out a short sigh.
“The boy’s safe. There’s nothing to worry about.”
She faced forward in her seat and dropped her chin onto her chest. There’s nothing to worry about--she’d call that the understatement of the century. She giggled. Her giggles led to laughter that quickly escalated to snorting. She laughed even harder. Tears rolled from her eyes. Hannes peeked at her from the corner of his.
She finally calmed, with a stray giggle escaping here and there. The turmoil inside her eased. Too much had happened in the past several hours. And Hannes didn’t push questions or tell her to shut-up. He gave quiet support, like a real friend.
After passing a laundromat, a huge plane barreled along a runway parallel to the street. Veering away from the main airport terminal, they approached a set of private warehouse hangars next to a two-room building.
Hannes parked in the back lot and stepped out of the car. Leah released her seatbelt. He strode to a corporate jet similar to what a company rented to fly its big wigs around. Parked outside the hangar, the plane’s engines hummed, and the pilot stood by the mobile stair unit leading up to the cabin entrance. Except for a couple of guys in blue overalls, the tarmac was empty.
Leah opened the car door and put one foot on the ground. Leaning on the door, she stared in awe as another aircraft lifted off the runway and passed directly overhead.
A whistle, barely heard over the plane’s roar, grabbed Leah’s attention. She turned her head toward Hannes. He motioned for her to get on the jet. Carelessly, he had left her alone at the car. She could make a run for it. But to where? The fencing was ten feet high. She hadn’t had much luck with chain links recently.
With a heavy sigh, she pushed the car door closed and traipsed to the jet, no need to rush. The pilot boarded. Hannes leaned on the stair rail and looked back at her trudging along. He lifted a fist and wagged two fingers in an upside down V. She smiled despite her grim mood and quickened her step.
She climbed the stairs and ducked under the entryway. Stepping through the entrance, she stared into the most opulent room she’d ever seen. Hannes guided her to the plush leather sofa and then dropped his backpack onto one of two oversized, rotating leather chairs.
The room smelled like a floral garden from vases of flowers on the glass-top end tables. Hannes passed her and stepped between two oriental rice paper screens separating the front cabin from the rest of the plane. Behind the screens, a rectangular conference table filled the middle of the fuselage. He disappeared through an opening in a rear burl wall.
It must’ve cost a fortune to rent this. If luxury was how he liked to travel, then why in the hell was he on a cargo ship? Some men never made sense.
When Hannes returned to the front, she slid around on the sofa and looked out the stretched window. His reflection mirrored in the left side of the glass. Even though she didn’t want to see him, her eyes never wavered from the image.
He lifted his laptop from his bag then pulled out a dark granite tray table stowed in the wall. After placing his laptop on the table, he sat in the leather recliner, opened the top, typed, and then stared at the screen.
He constantly projected a fierce intensity, never letting his guard down. Had he always been like that? Sensing sadness in him, Leah wondered what his life was like. What made him the criminal he was? As a child, did he live in poverty and search trash containers for food? Were his family violent gang members? Or was this the path he chose for himself?
The pilot rang over the intercom. They taxied to the runway. No seatbelt instructions were given; chances were the leather sofa cushions could not be used as a flotation device.
The lights in the cabin dimmed. The engines whined louder and the plane gently rolled forward. Leah stared at passing houses and wondered what fate had in store for her. Without turning, she asked,
“Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer immediately. “Where do you think we’re going?”
“I don’t know.” Leah shrugged. “Spain. Or Finland.”
Hannes returned his attention to his laptop, not even caring to answer her. Jerk. Her chin rested on the back of her hand on top of the sofa cushion. How could she get out of this? Faking the Stockholm syndrome might work.
She could pretend to befriend him, come across sympathetic to his cause, caring. Then when his guard was down, and after learning the lay of the land, quickly and completely disappear. Should be easy--that’s what she’s done half her life: run.
With a plausible escape plan, the adrenaline and endorphins keeping her mind and body at peak performance for the past several hours drained. Exhaustion devoured her brain. She grabbed a pillow from the corner of the sofa and collapsed her head on it.
* * *
Eyes peeking from the corners, he watched her stretch on the sofa, her back to him. He studied her peaceful image. This woman flummoxed him more than any person ever has. He considered himself an excellent judge of character, knowing when someone was lying by smell.
He understood her deep desire for revenge and her agonizing guilt over the role she played in her family’s death. But she was child at the time. She wasn’t to blame. He didn’t have that excuse or any, for that matter. He was to blame for not being there to save Catalina.
He fought her memory. They haunted him every night and day for three years. If not for his obsession for justice, he would’ve joined her long ago. But now, he wanted to wait.
The phone in his pocket buzzed. He read the screen and shook his head. The millions of dollars cleared into his account. She made absolutely no sense. Why had she been living on the streets when she had access to so much money? Who was this woman that caused a constant pain in his arse? And what did Roclas want with her so badly?