CHAPTER 8—EXORCISING THE DEMONS
Donovan obsessively called the satellite number during the entire trip. The line was either busy or was never picked up. He wasn't sure who was with Remy, but as soon as he arrived at the cabin, he was going to beat the living hell out of him for ignoring the phone. After his last call to the satellite phone, he dialed up another number.
"Yo," Lomax said jovially.
"It's Donovan," he said. "I'm on my way to the cabin. I'm taking back the assignment. Remy is in danger, and we must move her again."
"Hold up there, Hoss," he said. "Ellis is secured with another agent. What's got you so worried? You seemed fine to leave a few days ago."
Donovan steeled himself and exhaled a breath. "I was wrong, Ed. The killer knows Remy is at the cabin."
There was a catch in Lomax's breath. "How? How does he know?"
He took another deep breath and exhaled it slowly. "Call my office. Someone there will fax you the answer to your question. Wait by the machine. After you receive it, call me."
Without another word, Donovan disconnected the call and pressed the accelerator. The trip seemed endless. It didn't take long for Lomax to return the call.
"What happened, Frank," Lomax asked. For once, the joviality had left him.
"What does it look like," he snapped. "What you see is what happened. Right now, what you're looking at isn't the issue. What's important is who took it. The killer was there, stalking her the whole time. Her location was either leaked out, or this was an inside job. Whatever the case, I'm on my way back."
"Considering what this photo is telling me, maybe that's not such a great idea, Frank."
He sighed in frustration. "I don't give a fuck. She's in danger, and if I don't move her tonight, she'll die."
He hit the 'end' button before Lomax could say another word. He didn't want to hear anymore.
* * *
Remy had been trying to nap. She hadn't slept well in several days. She glanced over at the couch; her new FBI goon appeared to have little trouble sleeping. He was young, just barely out of the academy, and had told her this was his first 'real' assignment. He chattered incessantly, giving her his life history. He was cute and sweet in an Opie Taylor kind of way, but he was no Frank Donovan. Ugh, she thought. She had to stop thinking about him. With Donovan's absence, she had tried to begin a new journal, but she found she couldn't write.
Giving up on sleep for the time being, she stood and stretched. She wanted to go outside, but thought better of it. Despite his innocent looks, Opie had a set of handcuffs as well, and the idea of being cuffed again didn't appeal to her. Unless I'm cuffed to Frank, she thought wickedly. Oh God, I must stop. I must put a stop to this. Taking a risk, she unlocked the door and stepped out. The sun was just beginning to set, and it was chilly outside. For once, she didn't mind. Nothing cleared the mind more than freezing weather. Her gaze fell yet another midnight blue Suburban. The goon named Lomax had left the same type of vehicle for Opie. Her mind went back to the day she and Donovan had made love, their bodies supported by the SUV. When he kissed her the day he left, she would have let him make love to her again if he had just pursued her. He likely would have if Lomax hadn't shown up.
In the distance, from down the road, she heard the squealing of tires. Alarmed, she was certain the killer had finally made his way to her. Rooted to her spot, she watched as the car swiftly approached the cabin. It looked like a police cruiser. She turned on her heel to run back inside to summon Opie. The car came to a screeching halt. Her hand landed on the doorknob as the intruder threw open his car door.
"Remy, stop!"
The voice. Unmistakable. She turned back around just as Donovan ran up the steps to the porch. What is he doing here?
He took her by the forearm. "I don't have time to explain," he said breathlessly, "but you must get your things together. I have to get you out of here."
She wanted to argue, wanted to slug him, but the look on his face was too serious. She allowed him to lead her inside the cabin. Donovan's eyes settled on the sleeping agent. For a moment, he felt pure and utter rage coursing through his veins. He clearly identified the ugly yellow satellite phone lying within reach of the agent. Why the fuck wouldn't he answer the phone? Not bothering to be polite, he approached the agent and shook him roughly.
"Wha," he said groggily. When he encountered Donovan's intimidating stance, he began to reach for his gun.
"Before you piss your pants," he said as he took hold of the man's arm. "Look at this." He flashed his badge at the agent. "The name is Donovan, Frank Donovan. I'm taking custody of this woman. If you have any questions, call Ed Lomax if the fucking phone works." He fixed his stony gaze on her. Her terror had left her dumbstruck. "Move your ass, Remy."
She did as he instructed. Donovan was serious and this was no time to be stubborn. She stuffed her things in the bag as quickly as she could. He didn't give her any time to zip up the bag. He took her by the arm and led her out of the cabin. In less than a minute, they were inside the car zipping along the road toward the freeway. Donovan had spoken less than fifteen words to her the entire time they had made their frenzied escape.
She had begun to cry, and she hastily wiped her tears away. She had no idea what had happened. "Are you going to talk to me," she asked softly.
He had been watching the road and formulating a plan at the same time. He had yet to decide where to take her. He didn't look at her when he said, "I received a package."
She immediately knew what he was talking about. "No!"
"There were at least five copies of a photograph sent to me and my colleagues. We were being watched the whole time, photographed the whole time. I had no choice but to come back and protect you."
"Where are you taking me?"
He glanced at her. Her tears fell from her eyes in a steady stream. "I don't know."
She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob. "I'm sorry, Frank," she spat when she could speak again.
"This isn't something you could have controlled, Remy." He wanted to say more, wanted to comfort her, but his mind was focused on getting her to a secured location.
When Donovan pulled the car into the garage, he glanced over at Remy. She was curled up on the car seat and appeared to be asleep. He was risking more than he could fathom bringing her here, but he really had no choice. There was nowhere else to take her. This was the only place he trusted. He reached across the seat and gently shook her.
She awoke with a start and had the greatest urge to strike out. However, when her eyes met Donovan's, she calmed down. "Where are we?"
"Home," he said. "My home."
From the parking garage, he took her arm and guided her over to the elevators. They went up a dozen floors or more to Donovan's apartment. It was late, and there weren't many people bustling around. Those out didn't blink an eye at the cool blonde on Donovan's arm. He led her inside the darkened apartment and left her bag by the door.
He pointed toward the back of the apartment. "Take the bed, I'll sleep out here on the couch. After you get some rest, we'll figure out what to do."
She wasn't ready to go back to sleep. She needed to talk. "What's going to happen to you because of that photo?"
"I don't know, but that's not what we need to focus on right now," he said. "Go to bed, Remy."
She didn't argue with him further. She entered Donovan's bedroom and spied his gigantic bed. It was a shame that he slept in the huge thing all alone. She stripped down to her underwear and pulled back the covers. She slid beneath the sheets and was swiftly enveloped in his scent. It was all over the bed. It comforted her. However, it would have been better if he were actually in the bed with her. Remy wrapped her arms around one of the king-sized pillows and pressed her cheek into it. She felt secure and protected in Donovan's bed, and it didn't take long for her to fall asleep.
Donovan woke up when he heard a rustling noise. Ever alert, he propped himself on his elbow. Through bleary eyes, he watched as Remy dug around in her bag. He noticed she was wearing one of his shirts. She had apparently just gotten out of the shower. The blinds were still closed and he wasn't sure what time it was. Remy turned back around and noticed Donovan watching her curiously.
"Sorry about the shirt," she said. "I didn't have anything clean to put on."
"It's okay," he said sedately. He didn't mind about the shirt at all. She looked delicious. "Can I say something to you," he asked suddenly.
She nodded. "Sure." She walked over to a vacant chair and sat down.
Donovan sat up fully and ran his hand through his hair. "I'm the one who's sorry," he began. "I took advantage of you, and that act nearly caused your death."
Remy wasn't sure where this conversation was leading, but she found herself horrified at the thought of his guilt. He had taken advantage of her? Was he nuts? She had wanted him. She still wanted him. She finally understood his behavior. "No, Frank," she said. "That's not true. For whatever reason, it happened, and I wanted it to happen. How can you take advantage of someone who gives of herself freely?"
Her answer stunned him a bit. "You were vulnerable, tender, and I-"
She interrupted him. "No. It wasn't like that at all." Remy had allowed him to fumble through his off-kilter apology, but she really couldn't listen to anymore. She stood and left him sitting. She had totally forgotten about her clothing.
Donovan sat without moving a muscle for a long time. Bringing her home with him had not been a very good game plan. Something else would have to be done; other arrangements would have to be made. He stood up with the intention of going to the fridge and grabbing a glass of orange juice. However, something stopped him. He saw Remy standing in the doorway between his bedroom and the hallway leading to the kitchen. She was watching him closely, following him with her eyes. He noticed that she had unbuttoned the shirt, and it had fallen partially open. What is she trying to do to me? He debated what he wanted to do for five minutes or more, and like an idiot, he stared at her throughout his internal battle.
He knew he shouldn't move forward, knew he should demand that she cover herself. She couldn't tempt him, because his resolve was hardly existent. Neither spoke a word, it wasn't necessary. They each wanted the other, what more could be said? She stood awaiting him, his touch, and his lovemaking. What to do? What to do?
Steeling himself, but never tearing his eyes away from her, he cleared his throat. "What are you doing?"
She didn't answer him. Instead, she approached him and snaked her arms around his neck. "What do you think," she asked softly. "I want you, and if I don't have you soon, I'm going to fling myself out the window of your high-rise apartment."
Like some cliché from an after school special, his eyes said 'no,' but his body said 'hell yes.' He should have taken her arms away from his neck, should have denied her. But there was no use. His arms went around her waist and he jerked her body hard up against his. This time, he didn't have to force a kiss on her. Her eager lips were waiting expectantly. During the kiss, his hands slid from her waist to the side swell of her breasts. Before long, his hands were inside the opened shirt, cupping the soft, but unbelievably firm mounds of flesh. She moaned deeply within her throat and pressed forward with her upper body. Her nipples hardened at his slightest touch, and the little pink peaks pressed into the palms of his hands like points of steel. Her hands slipped from his neck, down to his chest, and ventured even further until they hooked into the belt loops of his slacks. She pulled him forward toward her as she stepped back.
Donovan broke the kiss as her insistent hands continued to drag him forward. She had no idea where she was going, as she didn't have eyes in the back of her head, but that didn't matter. She had the general idea where the bedroom was, and she wanted to get him in there quickly. Remy's back eventually hit the wall, and she gasped audibly. It surprised her when her back slapped up against the solid wall, but it also thrilled her. Donovan's body was slammed against hers just as suddenly, and she could feel the hardness of him pressed against her. He kissed her again, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Once the kiss was broken, she began to help him get undressed. She wondered why he insisted on wearing so many layers of clothing. It was aggravating, and after he was as naked as the day he was born, she wondered why he hid his gorgeous body.
He wanted to make love to her right there, up against the wall, but she wasn't going for that. She insisted he take her to his bed. After their frenzied episode against the Suburban, her backside had ached for days. There was no way in hell she wanted to end up with splinters and paint chips stuck up her ass. Of course, Donovan wanted to argue, but he lost that battle. Remy pushed him backward and led him to his bedroom. Without much in the way of hesitation, he took her down to his bed. Donovan took his time about touching, tasting, and caressing every inch of her body. She wanted to do her own exploring, but he wouldn't allow it. He took the upper hand, wanting to give, but not take. The last time, he had only taken, and he wasn't about to make the same mistake again. He made love to her gently, and Remy finally saw the two sides of Frank Donovan, the hard, and the gentle.
* * *
The Boss had been informed that Frank Donovan had rolled in and took custody of the whore. He was almost positive where they were, and he was even more certain that he knew what they were doing. Donovan had always had a weakness for blondes, especially blondes with very unique eyes like the whore's. He had ordered Cheeky to send copies of the photos to Donovan's UC team, and he knew that by now, they had likely received them. He considered mailing a few to his superiors, but he didn't want Donovan fired. He wanted him dead. Perhaps he would have both the whore and her bodyguard eliminated at the same time. Payback, now that's what I do best, he thought.
* * *
Remy was asleep. Her body was sprawled belly down across the bed and so very magnificently nude. Donovan was tempted to reach and allow his hand to drift down the slope of her back, but he hesitated. She needed to sleep. He had made love to her three times already, and she was utterly exhausted. Before long, he would have to wake her. He stared up at the ceiling and wondered where he was taking her with this. He was involved now, embroiled, and there was a lot at stake. He also realized the unquestionable need to find a safer hideout for her. If the killer had found the cabin, he would find her here, would probably seek her here, especially considering the photo. How am I going to get out of this, he thought. Do I even want out?
From the living room, he could hear his cell phone ringing. Quickly, he jumped out of bed and ran toward his discarded jacket. He snapped open the phone on the third ring. "Donovan," he said.
"Frank, what are you doing," Lomax's voice asked. "Smithy said you ran in, threatened him, and took the girl."
Donovan sighed. "I didn't threaten anyone. I stepped in and did my job, Ed."
"The hell you say," he spat. "You scared that little rookie. He's going to face disciplinary charges for allowing you to kidnap our witness."
He had never heard such deadpan anger in Lomax's voice before. This was so unlike him. "Ed, she needed to be taken from there. You saw the damn photo, you know."
"Frank? Are you fucking her, or was that Suburban bop a one time quickie?"
"That's not for you to know," he spat viciously.
"I see," Lomax said, reading the answer in his voice immediately. "She's playing you, Frank. She made a pass at Smithy and me. She's bad news. I wouldn't doubt that she didn't have that photo taken to blackmail you. We're pretty sure that's the way it happened with the senator. Let her go, Frank, we're about ready to drop the protection."
"You cannot do that," he said angrily.
"Watch me, boy-o."
