fire.
“Your big, brave husband doesn’t take very good care of himself. He takes risks.”
Oh, God. Nate was right. Dylan didn’t know how to be a coward, didn’t know when to back down.
“Doesn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“I’m a patient man, Nicole. I’ve waited this long for my revenge. I can wait a little longer. Until I see Dylan riding by himself within the range of my rifle. Or maybe I’ll use a car bomb. I’m handy with a knife.”
“What do you want?”
“Do exactly as I say, or Dylan dies.”
“I understand.”
“Write down my phone number.”
There was a message pad attached to the wall and a pencil on a string. She didn’t want to follow his orders. But if she didn’t do as he said, if she failed to make him happy, the consequences would be terrible. She scribbled down the number as he recited it, then she repeated it back to him.
“Very good,” he said. “Get yourself a cell phone, Nicole. Call me at that number.”
“Of course.”
“If you tell anyone you’ve spoken to me, you know what will happen.” There was no inflection in his whispering. The lack of emotion terrified her as he continued, “I’ll destroy everything and everyone you care about. I won’t stop.”
“Yes,” she said. “I know.”
“Good night, Nicole. Dream of me.”
When she replaced the receiver on the hook, her hand was surprisingly steady. After seven days in captivity, she was more accustomed to prisoner behavior than to the uncertainty of real life. She tucked the scrap of paper with his phone number into the pocket of her robe. She had to appease Nate Miller. To keep her family safe.
“Who was that?” Carolyn asked.
“One of the neighbors. The explosion woke her.” The falsehood slid easily through her lips. She had to lie. There was no choice. “What else did Burke tell you?”
“Nate got away.”
“Of course he did.”
Nate was clever and cruel—more dangerous than any of them knew. They underestimated him, didn’t comprehend the depth of his hatred for the Carlisle family.
“Something’s wrong,” Carolyn said as she came closer. “What is it?”
“I’m tired. I should lie down.”
“Of course,” Andrea said. “Come with me, dear. I’ll help you up to bed.”
Dylan’s mother meant to be kind, but Nicole felt like snapping at her. She bit her lip to keep from saying something she’d regret. No one can know. I have to stay in control . Stiffly, she climbed the staircase with Andrea at her side. At the door to her room, Nicole turned to the sophisticated woman from New York. “I’m fine now.”
“If there’s anything I can do—”
“Thank you,” she said curtly. “Good night, Andrea.”
Nicole closed the door, shutting out further offers of help and kindness. No one could understand what she’d been through. Not Andrea. Not Carolyn. And especially not Dylan.
He’d never get it. He was too busy being tough and macho to pay attention to her needs.
She took off her robe and hung it on a peg in the closet, leaving the note with Nate Miller’s phone number in the pocket. There was no way to escape him. She’d tried. For seven days she’d tried, but he was obsessed. Just as Burke said. Obsessive. All he wanted was to destroy her family.
She slipped between the covers on her bed and leaned her back against the pillows. If she had to sacrifice herself to save Dylan, she’d do it. No matter how much he ticked her off, she still cared about him. At her core, at the center of her being, she couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without him. But could she still love him if he denied her the family she wanted so desperately?
From downstairs, she heard the men arrive. They were loud and boisterous, and their boots clomped in the entryway. She heard laughter and imagined Carolyn throwing her arms around her big, handsome FBI agent.
Without knocking, Dylan opened the bedroom door. His face was smudged with dirt. His green eyes blazed as he crossed the
“Your big, brave husband doesn’t take very good care of himself. He takes risks.”
Oh, God. Nate was right. Dylan didn’t know how to be a coward, didn’t know when to back down.
“Doesn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“I’m a patient man, Nicole. I’ve waited this long for my revenge. I can wait a little longer. Until I see Dylan riding by himself within the range of my rifle. Or maybe I’ll use a car bomb. I’m handy with a knife.”
“What do you want?”
“Do exactly as I say, or Dylan dies.”
“I understand.”
“Write down my phone number.”
There was a message pad attached to the wall and a pencil on a string. She didn’t want to follow his orders. But if she didn’t do as he said, if she failed to make him happy, the consequences would be terrible. She scribbled down the number as he recited it, then she repeated it back to him.
“Very good,” he said. “Get yourself a cell phone, Nicole. Call me at that number.”
“Of course.”
“If you tell anyone you’ve spoken to me, you know what will happen.” There was no inflection in his whispering. The lack of emotion terrified her as he continued, “I’ll destroy everything and everyone you care about. I won’t stop.”
“Yes,” she said. “I know.”
“Good night, Nicole. Dream of me.”
When she replaced the receiver on the hook, her hand was surprisingly steady. After seven days in captivity, she was more accustomed to prisoner behavior than to the uncertainty of real life. She tucked the scrap of paper with his phone number into the pocket of her robe. She had to appease Nate Miller. To keep her family safe.
“Who was that?” Carolyn asked.
“One of the neighbors. The explosion woke her.” The falsehood slid easily through her lips. She had to lie. There was no choice. “What else did Burke tell you?”
“Nate got away.”
“Of course he did.”
Nate was clever and cruel—more dangerous than any of them knew. They underestimated him, didn’t comprehend the depth of his hatred for the Carlisle family.
“Something’s wrong,” Carolyn said as she came closer. “What is it?”
“I’m tired. I should lie down.”
“Of course,” Andrea said. “Come with me, dear. I’ll help you up to bed.”
Dylan’s mother meant to be kind, but Nicole felt like snapping at her. She bit her lip to keep from saying something she’d regret. No one can know. I have to stay in control . Stiffly, she climbed the staircase with Andrea at her side. At the door to her room, Nicole turned to the sophisticated woman from New York. “I’m fine now.”
“If there’s anything I can do—”
“Thank you,” she said curtly. “Good night, Andrea.”
Nicole closed the door, shutting out further offers of help and kindness. No one could understand what she’d been through. Not Andrea. Not Carolyn. And especially not Dylan.
He’d never get it. He was too busy being tough and macho to pay attention to her needs.
She took off her robe and hung it on a peg in the closet, leaving the note with Nate Miller’s phone number in the pocket. There was no way to escape him. She’d tried. For seven days she’d tried, but he was obsessed. Just as Burke said. Obsessive. All he wanted was to destroy her family.
She slipped between the covers on her bed and leaned her back against the pillows. If she had to sacrifice herself to save Dylan, she’d do it. No matter how much he ticked her off, she still cared about him. At her core, at the center of her being, she couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without him. But could she still love him if he denied her the family she wanted so desperately?
From downstairs, she heard the men arrive. They were loud and boisterous, and their boots clomped in the entryway. She heard laughter and imagined Carolyn throwing her arms around her big, handsome FBI agent.
Without knocking, Dylan opened the bedroom door. His face was smudged with dirt. His green eyes blazed as he crossed the
Similar Books
