Her vision cleared and she blinked. The figure came into focus and she felt as if she might pass
out again when she saw the man was Salvatore.
Although, after what she’d been through, she found she wasn’t surprised. He had orchestrated
the attack from his phone.
Today he had nearly hit Christie again when he’d caught her using his phone to call Belle. If it
hadn’t been for Agent Davidson, who had come to the room where they were staying, Salvatore
would have hurt her.
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known before.
He stared at her with cold calculation in his dark eyes. He perched on the edge of a metal table
in a chilly concrete-walled room. She was strapped to a chair in front of him.
She closed her eyes for a moment, as if that might change her situation. Maybe it was a dream.
A nightmare.
Cool air chilled her skin and she smelled something dank and dirty. Her head still swam and she
swayed.
“Look at me.” Salvatore’s icy command jerked her back to reality.
Her skin prickled as she obeyed. Her throat felt raw from the smoke that she’d sucked in at the
safe house, smoke that had fil ed her lungs when she’d opened her mouth to scream.
The fact that her husband had her tied to a chair in an unfamiliar room started to sink in. He
reached for her and she flinched, expecting him to hit her. Instead, he grabbed the end of the tape
over her mouth, and ripped the gray duct tape away. He dropped it onto the metal table. Her skin
prickled unpleasantly, but she shook it off.
“Look at me,
mi mariposa.
” Salvatore’s voice cut into her fog.
The words came out thick and heavy as she said, “I’m not your butterfly.” Not anymore.
He raised his hand.
“Salvatore.” His name came out in a hoarse whisper. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve never thought of you as a stupid woman, Christie.” He spoke in a slow, measured tone and
lowered his hand. “Don’t start now.”
But she
had
been stupid. She’d been blind to who he was and what he was for the duration of
their marriage. She hadn’t known the true Salvatore until she overheard him ordering the murders of
her friends.
How could she have been so foolish? She’d believed in him.
She’d loved him.
Their entire marriage had been a lie.
Tears burned at the backs of her eyes but she fought to hold them back. He’d already taken so
many tears from her by raping her more than once after she’d overheard him.
Her heart ached while her mind raged. She’d given her love to a terrible man.
He was a horrible, horrible man who schemed and ordered the murders of people who got in his
way. Her friends had become liabilities that he was discarding like pieces of trash. Had they been
the first murders he’d contracted? Not that it mattered whether or not he hadn’t done it before, but
she knew inside that he had.
“Did you hurt Belle and Dylan?” Her voice shook.
“They’re dead.” Salvatore gave a slow smile. “They were slaughtered like pigs.” He gave a dark
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***
“Oh, my God.” Christie’s mind spun. She felt lightheaded, and she was close to passing out from
the news. They couldn’t be dead. Her friends. Two more of the most precious people in her life.
Dead.
At her husband’s orders. Maybe even at his hands.
She looked at Salvatore and all she felt was hatred like she’d never experienced before. “You
bastard.”
“Language, my dear.” He gave a smirk. “But don’t worry. I’l be finished with you soon enough
and you can join them.”
Christie’s head swayed. If she hadn’t been tied to the chair, she would have slipped off and hit
the floor.
Her friends were dead. The words repeated over and over in her mind.
Belle and Dylan are dead.
It didn’t matter that he intended to kil her, too. She’d known that ever since he caught her when
she’d overheard him. There was no way he’d let her live. He just wanted her to suffer.
“Next wil be your friend, Leon.” Salvatore smirked. “I think I’l have his whole family taken out
for good measure. His wife. His kids. That leaves Marta who is clinging to life in the hospital.”
Salvatore shrugged as the horror in her body magnified. “She will be dead soon. I already have
someone there who wil finish her off. I expect a call any time now.”
Even though she had no visible wounds, it felt like blood was draining from her body, leaking to
the floor, forming a pool around her feet.
Salvatore gestured to her. “You I wil save for last. I want you to suffer through every single death
of your precious Circle of Seven friends.” At that he sneered. “You kept me out, ignoring me in favor
of them until Belle left.”
Christie’s mind was on overload. She didn’t know what to say, what to think. He was stil upset
over that, all of these years later?
A knock came at the door. Salvatore didn’t take his attention from Christie. “Come in.” He said
the order in a commanding tone.
The door scraped the concrete floor and Christie flinched from the sound.
A dark-haired man stumbled through the door as if shoved. She had a moment to see his face
before he landed on his hands and knees in front of her. He cried out as his knees hit the floor. His
body shook and Christie was certain his limbs would give out on him.
Her heart pounded faster as she looked from the man on the floor to the Hispanic man coming
in through the doorway.
“Please, Mr. Reyes.” The man on the floor’s voice trembled, but he didn’t look at Salvatore. “I’m
sorry. I’l make up for it.”
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***
The man who’d shoved Carl through the door carried a handgun but tucked it into the back of
his jeans. “What do you want me to do with him?”
“Thank you, Paco. But I’l take care of Carl.” Salvatore kicked the man on the floor in the gut, a
fierce, powerful kick. The man shouted in pain and rolled onto his side, his cry bouncing off the walls
of the small bare room. “Won’t I, Carl?” Salvatore said to the man he’d just kicked.
Carl was sobbing now. “I’l make up for it. I will. I promise.”
“You failed me at the safe house and you ran while others died.” Salvatore reached into his
pocket and Christie’s eyes widened. More fear burned her chest as he pul ed out a small black
handgun. “And you know what happens to men who fail me.”
Carl’s body shook as Salvatore took his handgun and pressed the barrel to the side of the man’s
head.
He wouldn’t.
Christie started trembling so violently her teeth clicked together. Salvatore wouldn’t
murder this man right in front of her.
At the same time the thoughts went through her mind, she knew that he could and he would.
Christie closed her eyes and turned her head away.
“You wil watch, Christie.” Salvatore’s words came out more than cruel.
In the next moment she felt hands on the sides of her head, turning her back in the direction of
Carl. Then the cold barrel of a gun was pressed to her own head and her eyes flew open involuntarily.
“I have to set examples.” Salvatore’s expression went hard before he moved the gun from her
head and pointed it at Carl. “Goodbye, Carl.”
Christie screamed, as the sound of the shot in the small room seemed to tear her eardrums. But
it was the man’s body that kept her screaming. The bul et had splattered blood and matter all over
the floor and it had sprayed across her jeans and shoes.
She couldn’t stop screaming. Salvatore slapped her so hard her chair tipped back. He caught
her by her hair and jerked her forward, stopping the backward momentum and forcing her chair back
where it was. She barely noticed the pain at her skull that radiated through her head.
Tears flowed down her cheeks but she knew there was venom in her eyes and her words as she
spat words at him. “You’re a horrible, sick monster, Salvatore.”
He raised his hand to strike her again.
She stared at him, refusing to flinch. “A sick monster.”
Pain burst through her head like stars as his hand connected with her head. This time she felt
herself falling backward in the chair, with nothing to stop her.
Her head struck the concrete floor.
Everything went black.
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***
Dylan put his arm around Belle’s shoulders, keeping her close to him as they left Agent Jennie
Ortega’s room at the Copper Queen Hospital, the same hospital where Marta was stil in a coma. He
wasn’t about to let Belle out of his sight after everything that had happened.
It was late the same afternoon after the attack and Christie’s kidnapping. The FBI would be
getting a warrant to search Salvatore’s home. Because it was a kidnapping, the FBI would be
involved.
G.I. Joe was outside the hospital with Brooks, and Trace had already headed with a team to
Tom’s office with the warrant to search for a copy of the postcard, or even the actual postcard itself
if by some chance Tom had inadvertently left it at the office when he went home.
That was doubtful, but they had to cover the bases in the warrant and nothing could be taken
for granted.
“Thank God Agent Ortega will be okay.” While speaking, Belle leaned her head on Dylan’s
shoulder. “She lost so much blood.”
“She was fortunate.” Dylan was thanking God, too. “If the paramedics had arrived any later, she
wouldn’t be here.”
He felt Belle’s shudder and wished he hadn’t put it that way. He squeezed her to him and looked
at her beautiful face. “Jennie is in stable condition, and that’s what matters.”
“What if they’ve kil ed Christie?” Belle’s features were twisted with worry as she looked at Dylan
while they walked down the hospital corridor. Her eyes were red from crying, her cheeks tearstained
and smudged with something dark, her hair falling from her ponytail and hanging loose around her
face.
“If they wanted her dead, they would have kil ed her at the safe house.” Dylan realized his words
sounded too harsh as he saw tears start to fil Belle’s eyes again. He was blowing it big time in the
consoling department. He squeezed her shoulders and pul ed her more tightly to him. “In my gut I
believe she’s all right and we’ll find her. We’re pretty sure her husband is the key in all of this, and
it’s possible he won’t hurt her simply because she’s his wife.”
“He always seemed to genuinely care for her.” Bel e shuddered in Dylan’s one-armed embrace.
“I am still having a hard time reconciling the man I thought he was with the man we believe he is
now.”
“That kind of betrayal is nearly impossible to comprehend for most people.” Dylan shook his
head. “When you trust someone and they aren’t who you think they are…” He blew out his breath.
“It’s like a death.”
He looked at her and her throat worked as she swallowed. “That’s a good way to put it.” A tremor
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***
has taken his place.”
Dylan had been through plenty and had seen a lot in his life and in his career, but this one hit
close to home. Christie was family, and the fact that her husband was probably at the heart of all of
their losses would be almost too much to comprehend for many. Hell, he was having a hard time
dealing with it.
But the pieces fit. When he thought about everything, they fit.
Belle moved out of his embrace and drew him aside in the hal way. “Have you heard anything
about Tom? Are they sure that he was the one who died in the explosion?”
Dylan sighed. “Yes. Trace gave me the report before we saw Jennie.”
The pain in Belle’s eyes seemed to magnify. “I can’t believe he and Nate are gone now. And
Marta…” Belle’s lips set in a firm line. “I want to visit Marta while you search Tom’s office. I can spend
some time with her wife, too. I would imagine she needs a friendly face and someone there who
cares about Marta as much as we do.”
Dylan’s gut tightened. “I don’t like the idea of you being out of my sight.”
“An agent is posted outside of Marta’s room.” Belle put her palm on Dylan’s chest. “I’l be safe
there. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Me?” A smile touched his lips. “I’m supposed to be the big bad agent. I’l be fine.”