You Are Mine (43 page)

“Tremain?” Zac asked.

“Yes, indeed. Poor Guy. Who was going to go to Mr. Woolf with his information. I wasn't happy with Elijah for missing his target, but then we discovered he has no memory due to the head injury so that turned out for the best. He's an old friend after all so I thought his life worth sparing.” He frowned. “I'm not pleased about Conrad, though. Mr. St. James will have to pay for that at some point.”

“He's paid enough already.” If the man was in the mood to talk, then Zac wasn't going to stop him. It was all information that could be used later.

If you manage to get out of this alive.

No, there was no “if” about it. He would. And if he didn't, then he'd make sure Eva would.

“You mean being made to be Conrad's catamite?” Another one of those smiles. “That was purely business. As was having to make sure Daniel stayed quiet.” He let out a soft breath. “Honestly, if people only did what they were told, we wouldn't have all these problems.”

“What do you want?” Zac snapped, losing patience.

“I'm sure you can imagine. I'd like you and your friends to do as they're told and stop interfering in things that don't concern them.” He shifted against the desk, his cold eyes meeting Zac's. “And since you've seen fit to ignore my warnings, I've had to take action. I told Miss King last night that she was irrelevant. That she didn't matter, and to some extent it's true. But then again, she's quite high profile and that could potentially be useful to me.” Another icy little smile turned his mouth. “As leverage.”

Zac found his hands wanting to clench into fists again. He kept them straight. “I see.”

“Do you, Mr. Rutherford? I think perhaps you don't. Because if you had, maybe you would have taken better care of her.”

So. Fitzgerald had found the one chink in his armor. And was exploiting it. Ruthlessly.

Of course he should have expected it. Of course, he should have foreseen it. The bastard was right. He should have taken better care of her. But he'd thought …

You were as arrogant as this prick here, thinking that because you'd protected her, she'd be safe. But she's not. Like Theresa wasn't.

A red haze had begun to cloud Zac's vision. He blinked hard to clear it, forcing aside the rage. “Stop posturing,” he said coldly. “I'm assuming you're now going to use Eva as hostage for our good behavior?”

Fitzgerald lifted a shoulder. “Naturally. Killing Mr. Woolf and Mr. St. James is problematic. You, on the other hand, are not as high profile as they are. I should imagine I could kill you with impunity and no one would notice.” Another small smile turned his mouth. “I'm quite adept at finding people whom the world doesn't care about, you see. Anyway, I'm sure you'll be pleased to know, I decided against it. Killing you makes no business sense whatsoever. You're a highly skilled man, Mr. Rutherford, and I could use some of those skills of yours.”

The man clearly meant it as a compliment. But all Zac felt was rage. “What makes you think I would ever let you use them.”

“Oh, I'm sure I can get you to do any number of things for me with sufficient inducement. Take Miss King, for example. Did you know she was my favorite? The homeless girls were always the best because all they needed was food and a nice bed, and they'd do anything you wanted. Eva particularly. A quiet, biddable girl and not without talent.”

The urge was there to shut the man up with his fists. To smash that blandly handsome face into oblivion. He imagined it in his head, imagined how satisfying it would be.

But he didn't move. Kept his hands in his pockets. The more the man kept talking, the longer it gave Zac to come up with another plan. And he would come up with a plan. All he had to do was wait.

“You're failing to make your point, Mr. Fitzgerald,” Zac said with exaggerated patience. “Yet again.”

Fitzgerald gave an icy little laugh. “My apologies. I'm only reliving happy memories. I'm actually quite proud of Eva, did you know that? I've been watching her and her company rise for several years now, and it's fascinating how she did it. I even like to think I had a hand in it—I mean, if I'd left her on the streets, she certainly wouldn't be where she is now, would she?”

The bastard was trying to push him, no doubt. Make him angry, perhaps angry enough to use his fists.

Zac stared into the other man's cold, cold eyes. And knew that Fitzgerald was waiting, looking for an excuse, a reason to hurt Eva.

“Eva is where she is now because she's intelligent and driven, not for any other reason,” Zac said with equal coldness. “Now, I presume you're going to get to the point sometime this century?”

Something sparked in the other man's eyes. A ripple of emotion that hadn't been there before.

About fucking time.

“A man in your position might like to be a little more polite,” Fitzgerald said, his voice mild, though the look on his face was anything but. “I was merely expressing my admiration of Miss King's ambition. And maybe of her, herself. She looked beautiful last night, truly a woman, not the skinny little girl I fucked seven years ago.”

Both the word and the image it conjured up were designed to shock, to anger, of that Zac had no doubt. And they did both.

Christ, he had to have a plan. He had to
think
. He'd never been in a situation he couldn't get out of, not once in his long career, and he was
not
going to be in one now.

He said nothing, staring back at Fitzgerald. Giving him no reaction at all.

“I want your skills, Mr. Rutherford. They would be useful in my business, very useful indeed. I also want your friends off my back.” His cold smile vanished utterly. “And if I don't get those things, I'll turn Miss King back into my own personal fuck-toy until you change your mind.”

Rage swept through Zac, deep and hot, and it was only long experience of repressing his emotions that kept him from lashing out.

All it would take was a bullet. One tiny little bullet right between the eyes. And all of this would go away. Problem solved.

You can't. You have to protect her.

Fitzgerald tilted his head at Zac's continued silence. “You don't believe me? Perhaps you'd care for a demonstration.” He turned and went back around the desk, sitting down in front of the computer screen again and hitting a button. “Bring her in Elijah.”

Zac stiffened. Fuck, no. Not here. Surely not—

The door behind him opened and he turned sharply to see it admit Eva and Elijah. The mercenary was following behind her closely, a gun pointed at her back.

Despite his best intentions, Zac found his fingers had closed around the butt of his Glock and he had to fight the urge to pull it out and blow the mercenary away. Perhaps he could. He'd been in situations like this before and had managed it. He'd always been fast.

Elijah, clearly taking no chances, pulled Eva abruptly closer, the muzzle of his gun pressed firmly to her spine. The look on her face was blank, nevertheless Zac saw fear lurking beneath like a shadow.

Shit. He couldn't take action now. No matter how fast he was, he wouldn't be fast enough to stop Elijah from pulling that trigger. Eva would be dead before she hit the floor.

“Welcome, Miss King,” Fitzgerald said, as if he was inviting her into his home for tea. “I'm so glad you could join us.”

She said nothing. Her gaze flickered toward Zac then away again.

“Take her out,” Zac ordered, putting every ounce of authority he possessed into the words. “She doesn't need to be here.”

But Fitzgerald only raised an eyebrow. “Au contraire, Mr. Rutherford. She'll need to hear about our little agreement, don't you think? Women like to know what men sacrifice for them, or at least that's my experience.”

“You know nothing about women,” Eva said unexpectedly, her tone dripping with loathing. “Or sacrifice.”

Fitzgerald only shrugged. “You got me. I don't. Nor am I interested. The only thing that concerns me is my business. And speaking of which, as much fun as this little drama has been, I suggest we move on to why we're here. Or at least, why both of you are here.”

“You've made yourself clear,” Zac said. “It's a ridiculous overreaction, but never mind, I'll let it pass. Certainly, I'll get the others off your back. My only stipulation is that you leave her alone.” Better to agree quickly, get her out of here. He had people he could contact who'd help him get her away from Fitzgerald. Then he'd take her to his island where she'd be safe, where he could protect her better.

She'd turned her head toward him. “What are you doing, Zac? What are you talking about?”

He ignored her. Didn't even look at her. He couldn't allow distractions. The only thing that had any meaning was that she be put out of Fitzgerald's reach forever.

Fitzgerald's mouth twitched. “I think you've misinterpreted who has the power here, Mr. Rutherford.”

“Really? I don't think so. You assume my friends and I have no evidence against you, a patent error on your part.” Perhaps he should have taken up poker. Seemed bluffing was his forte after all. “If anything happens to Miss King, I will get them to release what we have on you, and I guarantee it will destroy you.”

The older man studied him for a long moment. Then he shrugged. “I guess it depends on how badly you want my destruction and whether Miss King's life is worth it.”

“Oh shit, no,” Eva murmured. “He's using me to get to you, isn't he? God, are you insane, Zac Rutherford? Don't do it.”

Fitzgerald smiled that cold little smile. “And if he doesn't, you and I go back to our … old arrangement.”

Zac kept his attention on the older man, but he could almost feel Eva's shock radiating through the room.

“I see,” she said, her voice fraying. “Well, what do I care? It's only sex. And not very good sex at that.”

Fitzgerald laughed. “That we can fix, Miss King.” Then his gaze flicked to Zac, the amusement in his face abruptly wiping clean. “No, I'm not striking any bargains with you, Mr. Rutherford. You will go where I tell you to go. Do what I tell you to do. That's if you want to keep your pretty angel whole and healthy. And if you perform well, I may just decide not to revisit old memories with her. Then again, that's entirely up to you.”

Powerless. He was fucking powerless and the prick knew it. Trapped by his feelings for the small woman standing next to him. Helpless, impotent rage welled up, pushing against the restraints he'd laid on it, a rage that seemed somehow as familiar to him as his own name.

“I'll do it,” he said through clenched teeth, trying to force the emotion back into his cage. “I give you my word. Only leave her out of it.”

The lack of emotion on Fitzgerald's face was chilling. “Your word, Mr. Rutherford?” He said the words as if they were poison. “You really think I'd let a man like you off the leash with only your word to back it up? This is business, not fucking Eton. Your word means nothing. Collateral, assets, money. Those are the only things that mean anything and those I already have. Miss King is collateral. That's all.”

All Zac's frustrated anger boiled up, threatening to choke him. And he was reaching into his coat, pulling out his Glock, and aiming at Fitzgerald before he could think straight. “Let her fucking go,” he said, coldly. Clearly.

“Oh, come now,” the older man said with mild irritation. “Haven't we already been through that tedious drama? If you hurt me, etcetera.”

“You'll still be dead.”

Fitzgerald looked bored. “And so will Miss King.”

But the rage inside him didn't seem to care. It wanted blood. It wanted release.
Kill him
, it said.
Think of all the people he's hurt. All the people he's trapped. Think of all the people you'd save.

Yes. Men like him deserved to die. Men who preyed on others, who took advantage of the weak. It was men like him who'd killed his parents. Who'd killed Theresa.

Bullshit,
his rage whispered.
The only person who killed Theresa was herself. And she made you watch.

If only he hadn't loved her, it wouldn't have hurt. He wouldn't have felt so helpless, so fucking angry. But he did love her. And now here he was again, in the very same position with another woman under threat. A woman he couldn't save because he cared too much.

Emotions. They were the problem, they were the weakness. They made you helpless. If you didn't care, then no one had power over you. It was that simple.

His hand had started to shake. He steadied it.

Killing this man is the only way. It will make the world a better place, save a lot of people. You can't let him have the power.

He took at step forward, keeping the Glock pointed firmly at Fitzgerald.

Something flickered through the older man's cold blue eyes. The first glimpse of a reaction. “Careful, Mr. Rutherford. Be very careful indeed.”

Behind him he could hear Eva's fast, ragged breathing and something inside him hurt, but he ignored it. The red haze had descended again and he couldn't clear it. What was the point anyway? Rage like this was power. It was strong. It could save, like he'd used it to save that woman all those years ago. And if he'd killed a man, then what of it?

Zac took another step. He was right in front of Fitzgerald now, the muzzle of the Glock inches from the man's forehead.

He hadn't been able to stop Theresa. He'd had to watch her die, unable to do anything. But he could do something now. He had his rage and a gun. He wasn't helpless and he could make it stop.

One bullet and he could save everyone.

But not Eva.

The expressionless mask on the other man's face had begun to crack, fear leaking out. “She will die, Mr. Rutherford. Are you prepared for that?”