Deadly Game

Chapter 14

Ken moved back into deeper shadow, his gaze steady on the guard. The man was certainly engrossed in his book, and that told Ken a lot about the situation at the compound. Working at a secret laboratory was slow, tedious work. No one really considered that they come under attack or that anyone might try to break in. Most of the compound was underground, so any lost or stray hunter would find the fence, a small airstrip, and a few outbuildings. No one had come near the place for years, and Whitney had some pretty sophisticated warning systems. Apparently, the guards had been too long without incident. They had grown lazy and bored. He watched as the guard put his book down, but not once did he do more than give a cursory look around before walking along the fence line.

Ken waited until he was gone before consulting with his brother. "I'm not going to be able to hold off much longer before going in after Mari, Jack. We have to get this done and fast."

"You know we need better intel." Jack said. "I've asked for satellite views of the entire compound as well as infrared camera images to time the movement of the men. We have to have exact schematics of the entire compound-the layout, the height of the fence, and Lily will need to find someone who put the underground buildings together, so we know what we're facing before we expose the team to danger. This base is very deceptive."

"It's layers. The top layer is what the outside world sees."

"Yes, a guarded facility with a few outbuildings and a landing strip. You've got to get Mari to tell you what's belowground."

"I already gave you what she told me. Four levels, Jack. It's made of concrete, so we know there are going to be a few hollow places like we've found in the military bases. It isn't as impregnable as Whitney would like."

"Look, Ken, we can't just storm in guns blazing. Clearly there are civilians working here, and Whitney has regular military soldiers mixed with his own personal army. I'd like to get the women and get out without anyone spotting us. The last thing we need to do is hit or get hit by a friendly."

"As far as I'm concerned, anyone working at this place is fair game."

"They're soldiers obeying orders. They don't have a clue Whitney is a madman. My guess is most of them have never seen him, talked to him, or even know he's here. Their assignment is top secret, the location is, and they do their rotation and get the hell out when the opportunity presents itself."

"You know, Jack, I really don't give a damn. You know as well as I do that when you've spent time somewhere, you know what's going on-and if you don't, you hear the rumors and you guess. That guard didn't give a damn if innocent women were being used for experimentation. And where the hell is the loyalty of the team Mari and the others trained with?"

Ken's voice was turning to ice. His gray eyes were glacier cold. Jack chose his words carefully. "I agree these are all questions we need to answer, Ken, but not here. Our primary mission is a rescue. That's why we're here."

"Someone has to take out Whitney. You know it's got to be done, Jack."

"Yeah, I know. I don't want to be the one explaining it to Lily, though." Jack took a slow swig of water and let it trickle down his throat, giving his brother a little more time. Jack had always been the one pushing for a quick answer, and the role reversal wasn't comfortable. "We have a lot of work to do before we bring in the team. They're standing by, Ken, so if we want to pull her out, we have to get to work. It'll be completely dark in another half hour or so."

"I can feel her. She's very upset. I've tried to reach out to her mind, but she isn't answering me. Whatever is happening, she doesn't want me to know about it." Ken's voice was strained. "And if she doesn't want me to know about it, something bad is going on."

Jack automatically touched his mind, as he'd been doing since they were toddlers, just as Ken knew he would. Ken was prepared and kept his shields high. It wasn't easy keeping Jack at bay: they'd been shadows in each other's mind for as long as either could remember, but both had worked hard to build shields once they became aware others had psychic power as well-and the practice paid off.

Jack didn't need to know just how close to cracking he was. In that moment, Ken didn't care about the other women, or even any innocents working as techs, researchers, or guards. If Mari didn't let him know she was all right very soon, he was going in after her, and God help anyone who got in his way. He felt murderous, not cold and unemotional. Discipline was going out the window fast.

"Ken, you think I don't know how you're feeling with her locked up with madmen?" Jack crawled into a better position, his gaze sweeping the route the guard had taken.

"Whitney went after Briony because she was pregnant; he wasn't stripping her naked and laying her out on an exam table for some perverted doctor to photograph. Damn it. Jack, I could feel him touching Mari. He wasn't acting like any doctor I've ever met. And Whitney has men in there willing to rape a woman if she isn't cooperative." The knots in his belly tightened into hard lumps that threatened to climb higher and choke him.

"You have to step back, bro," Jack said, keeping his voice steady. "We'll get the intel and get the women out as soon as possible." Ken didn't answer, and Jack sighed and glanced over at him. "You know I'll go in with you and pull her out if anything goes wrong. Tell her that, give her something to hang onto."

"If I told her that, she'd freak on me. She's willing to sacrifice herself for the other women. She considers them family and she's not going to willing come without them."

"Then we make it work," Jack said. "I wouldn't leave you behind. We can't ask her to do something we wouldn't be willing to do ourselves. She wouldn't be able to live with herself."

Ken bit back a retort. He hated it, but he knew Jack was right. He wanted to go in and haul Mari out over his shoulder and lock her somewhere safe, but he couldn't do that to her-at least not right now. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if something happened to the other women, so that meant getting them all out before he went off the deep end and took her out without her consent-which would make him nearly as bad as everyone else who had taken her life away from her. He had to give her time and the opportunity to get those she considered family safely away.

Mari was a woman who wanted control of her life-deserved control of her life. He was a man whose entire being demanded that he be the one in utter and complete control of those around him. He knew it appeared to people that Jack seemed the dominant twin, always in the lead, but Ken had realized early on that Jack needed to feel in control, in much the same way Mari did, and he had stepped back, watching over his brother carefully, always protecting him, providing the environment Jack needed.

Ken tried to remember when he'd first made the decision to be Jack's front man in social situations-it had to be right after their father had been killed. He had cultivated a smooth smile and quick intervention. Jack, like Ken, was a dead-on accurate shot. It was a gift both had been born with. They worked well as a team, each looking out for the other, Ken allowing Jack whatever he needed to be able to survive. But to do the same for Mari was impossible. He needed her to be safe. He needed that.

"We came in using the river to avoid detection, but our team will need to use high altitude, low opening parachutists," Ken said. "You know they aren't going to look up unless they hear something, and they won't hear a thing if our boys come in using HALO. Our team is trained, and I'd rather use them then people we're not as familiar working with. We can pull a few strings and cancel a commercial flight at the last moment. There's enough regular air traffic over the area that no one's going to perceive a threat if we take the commercial flight path and altitude. Whoever is doing the monitoring will never suspect a thing."

Jack nodded. "Definitely the best plan. The guards are not alert. Nothing's shaken them up in the last couple of years."

"Ryland's men can back us up, but call in Logan and tell him we want our unit for this one."

Jack nodded in agreement. "That's a given. Ken, and already done. The men know it's personal to you, and they're already assembled and waiting for the intel. They're not going to let you down."

Ken knew Jack was right, but it didn't unravel the knots in his belly. "I'm checking the doctor's house. He just went in." He indicated the small bluff overlooking the cottages. "I'll work my way down to that point and go in from there. You cover me."

"Checking the doctor's house for what?" Jack asked. "You can't just go in there and blow this for us."

"He took pictures of her."

"That's his job. He had to have left them in the laboratory."

"'I'm making certain. And I'm going to find out where in the laboratory he left them."

"Damn it. Ken. You can't take a chance on tipping anyone off to the fact that we're here. Just stay put."

"He's got pictures and he knows where the other pictures are. He touched her, Jack-when she was helpless and he was supposed to be examining her impersonally-he touched her."

Mari had toned her emotions down, had even pulled away from him. but not before he'd caught the distaste, the feeling of utter helplessness, the mixture of sorrow, despair, and impotent rage that he knew intimately. He couldn't get Mari out of there and away to somewhere safe in that moment, but he sure as hell could pay the doctor a little visit. He might never be able to give Mari all the things she deserved-like a stable, easygoing partner-but he could hand the pictures-and her dignity-back to her.

Jack rubbed his mouth to keep from protesting. Nothing was going to stop Ken and Jack couldn't blame him. If it was Briony, the man would already be dead. For the first time in his life, Jack feared for his brother's sanity. Man was an unknown, but she was his wife's twin sister and his brother's chosen woman and that made her both important and a threat to his family's well-being.

Ken was, and always had been, a dangerous man. He was, by turns, controlled and deliberate, cold and efficient, and always capable of swift and brutal violence if the situation called for it. Where Jack was easy for those around him to read, Ken appeared easygoing and affable. The men in their unit found him much more approachable. Jack had always known on some level that Ken had forced himself to be the "front" man in an effort to protect his twin. He hadn't realized, until now, how foreign that behavior had been to Ken's nature.

Ken had the same hidden demons-the same nightmares and fears-and he had an even stronger dose of their father's legacy-the dark jealousies and need for swift and violent retribution. Ken had worn a mask all those years, hiding-even from his twin-the rage seething just below the surface. Between the trauma of his recent capture and torture and meeting Mari, Ken's way of life had been turned upside down. The smooth, easygoing facade was gone.

Jack sighed and glanced at his watch. "Don't get caught. I'd hate to have to kill anyone before we even get started."

Ken reached out to tap his brother's knuckles with his own in their familiar silent ritual. He scooted back into the foliage, careful to keep the thin branches from swaying as he passed through. Moving at a snail's pace, Ken inched his way down the hillside until he was within a few yards of the cottage he was fairly certain was the doctor's. The small house was set just a little apart from the other houses, and security was tighter. The guards walked the perimeter every ten minutes, two of them, switching their routine continually. The doctor had something to hide.

Ken slipped into the scraggly hedges surrounding the small community of houses just as a guard came around the side of the house and stopped, the heels of his boots within a foot of Ken's elbow. Ken's breath caught in his lungs-he stayed absolutely still, allowing ants and beetles to crawl over him. A lizard tickled his arm as it raced up it in little starts and stops, until it perched on his shoulder, pumping up and down, scenting the air.

The guard took three steps forward and halted again, turning fast as if he was trying to spot something-or someone. Ken's brows drew together. Had he made a sound? The whisper of clothes along the ground? He took care that his skin reflected the foliage around him. His specially designed clothes reflected the colors of his surroundings.

What had tipped off the guard? Ken slid his hand inch by inch along his jacket until he reached the knife strapped to the front. His fingers wrapped around the hilt, but he left it in the scabbard. He could draw and throw almost before others could squeeze a trigger. The move had been practiced hundreds of hours over the last few years, and he was every bit as accurate at throwing as he was with a rifle.

I've got him.

Jack's voice was without emotion, a statement of fact. If the guard twitched wrong, he was a dead man. and then all hell would break loose fast.

I'll take him out and hide the body. Ken was beginning to sweat. He could hear the man breathing, smell his fear, see the nerves as he searched the hillsides carefully. He's got to be enhanced. Jack. He's using either vision or hearing, but he hasn't locked onto you. They couldn't afford for the guard to raise the alarm. Something was making him nervous, but Ken couldn't figure it out. There was no telltale tree cancer where a part of Jack's weapon might be showing along the side of the tree trunk. No shiny objects. Jack had the same ability to camouflage his skin, the same reflective clothing. He disappeared into his surroundings until he was invisible. Ken knew exactly where Jack was. yet he couldn't spot him, and if he couldn't with his eagle sight, he was damned certain the guard couldn't either.

He's psychic. He's not feeling our energy when we're talking, but he's catching something else, he warned his brother. Don't move a muscle.

They both watched as the guard quartered the area with a slow, careful search. He didn't reach for his field glasses, and that told both of them he had enhanced sight. Ken tried to draw into himself, careful to keep his breath smooth and even and silent. All the while he kept his attention on the guard, not daring to risk another look at his brother. If the guard spotted Jack, Ken would have to kill him swiftly and in utter silence, before the man had a chance to either raise the alarm or turn a weapon on Jack.

Without warning Mari's fear filled his mind. It poured into him as if he were wide open with no careful shields built to protect him. His body shook with the overload. Air left his lungs in a rush, his mouth went dry, and his heart seemed to stop, then began to pound so loud he was afraid the guard would overhear. Sweat broke out on his brow-none of it was good when he was feet from an enhanced soldier.

He drew air into his lungs, pushed past Mari's fear, and stayed focused on his enemy. He was so close to the man, he knew he could get to his feet and wrap his arm around the soldier and plunge the knife in a kill zone, all in a few seconds, but the man would still have time to react. Physical enhancement made them abnormally strong, and GhostWalkers were taught to fight to their last breath. The guard might just be tough enough to have time to raise an alarm. Desperation was beginning to settle in. Ken forced his body under control and remained waiting, but all the while a growing terror for Mari's safety spread.

She'll be all right. You've got to trust her.

Jack's calm voice helped to keep Ken from rising up and taking a chance on disposing of the guard just so he could get to Mari as fast as possible. He waited, willing the man to move on. If he used mind control to get the man off of him, the outpouring of energy might very will tip off every other psychic in the compound. He breathed deep and felt for her. Mari. Her fear was for someone else. He could live with that.

The guard relaxed after another long, slow look around, and ambled off around the corner of the small house. Ken waited another three minutes to make certain the man wasn't doubling back.

You're clear, Jack said.

Ken crawled forward, sliding through the neat flower garden, a rather strange and prissy bed of color out in the middle of nowhere. The windows of the house were painted black, and where there was a small bit of streaking, he could see heavy drapes blocking any view of the interior.

The doctor doesn't want anyone prying into his business. Why else would his windows be all blacked out?

He's probably paranoid. Wouldn't you be, living here with Whitney for a boss?

Ken didn't answer. The window appeared to be clear of an alarm, but he wasn't buying it. The doctor had something to hide, and he was going to find out what. He listened for the low hum of an electronic alarm. His fingers swept the sill, searching for hidden trip wires. Oh, yeah, the place was locked down tight.

Ken placed his hand just over the glass. It was much more difficult detecting currents of energy with his body so scarred, particularly his hands. Sometimes he failed to feel things the way he should. He waited, counting the seconds, concentrating, willing himself to sense the current if it was there. If he didn't find one, he would put it down to the lack of ability in his fingertips and proceed on the premise that one was there, but if he could just spot the current running through the foil wire in the glass, things would go a lot faster.

Ken cursed the scars that left him with so little feeling. He couldn't detect the faint current, but when he listened, he was fairly certain that the doctor had an outside perimeter alarm. But the doc wouldn't just rely on that. He'd have something more sophisticated inside. A sensor system would detect infrared energy. The sensor was sensitive to the temperature of the human body. In front of each door was a harmless-looking floor mat, one Ken was certain had a pressure trigger.

The doc is protecting something. I'm going to look for the control box. He has to have one hidden around here somewhere.

Maybe this isn't such a good idea, Jack said uneasily. You go in there and you're probably going to kill the bastard, and how do we hide that?

Of course he was going to kill the doctor. The man had touched Mari. He had humiliated and embarrassed her and he'd enjoyed it. Maybe Ken shouldn't have shared her thoughts, but it was too late, the information had been exchanged and he'd let it happen. He hated himself for that. She deserved so much better. He should have gone in, guns blazing, and pulled her out, but he hadn't. He'd stood by and let them torment her. What the hell kind of man was he?

Ken. Are you even listening to me? We've got a team coming in. We're going to pull the women out of there.

What the hell would you do if it was Briony? Ken demanded.

There was a small silence. You know what I'd do.

Then shut the hell up and keep them off my back.

Ken found the control box neatly tucked away under the eaves up near the attic. He'd spotted a small cable hidden along a pipe and followed it up until he spotted the box. The controls had to be set from someone leaning out the attic window or from the roof itself. The doctor thought he was clever, but unless the roof was wired as well, it simply made things easier.

I'm going up.

You're clear now, but you have two guards circling around toward your position.

Ken went up the side of the house as silently as possible, sliding onto the roof as one of the guards strode into view. The second guard joined him, and they spoke briefly before they each went their separate ways. Ken remained still as the footsteps faded.

You're clear.

The control box was hooked up to several alarm circuits but had its own power supply. It wasn't all that difficult to disarm it and deactivate the numerous alarms the doctor had set.

Ken gained entrance through the grate in the attic. At once he could hear classical music blaring through the house. The scent of candles, sweat, and semen assailed him the moment he entered. Although the doctor had his music up loud, Ken kept his weight evenly distributed as he crept across the floor to the stairs, to prevent any creaks from alerting the man to the danger threatening him. He removed the small door leading below and peered down. The house was dark, with only a few candles flickering, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Ken's jaw tightened and adrenaline surged once again. The lights from the candles illuminated the wallpaper, throwing faces and female body parts into sharp relief.

Ken inverted as he dropped through the floor, and then righted himself, landing on his feet as silently as a cat. Floor-to-ceiling collages on every wall were of naked women stretched out on tables in a disgusting depiction of medical art. He recognized Mari. all ages, from young girl. teen, to woman. The light spilled across her face, and he could see every emotion in the various pictures, from fear to defiance and anger.

The entire room was dedicated to Mari. There were pictures of her back striped with cane marks, of her legs and bare buttocks, all naked. There were close-ups of her mouth, eyes, breasts, and vaginal area. He stopped at the edge of the wall where the doctor had been busy putting up the latest pictures. Close-ups of the inside of Mari's thighs revealed strawberries and faint teeth marks, marks Ken had put there when he was making love to her. The pictures were raw. almost sexual in nature, an obscene portrayal of what had been the most important moments of his life.

Holding Mari in his arms, taking her with wild abandon, her body willing and receptive in spite of his roughness, in spite of his scars and appearance, had given him back his life. She had given him hope, and the doctor had reduced what they had together to something vile for a sick mind. Bile rose in his throat and he fought a churning stomach as he looked into Mari's eyes. This time he saw humiliation and degradation. She hated what Whitney and the doctor had done with their lovemaking every bit as much as Ken did.

Rage had gone from shaking him to ice-cold, and that was always a bad sign. He moved to the next room and found the walls similarly covered, this time with a woman with an abundance of dark hair and light eyes. Floor to ceiling, in every room of the cottage, the walls held pictures of the same seven naked women. He recognized one as Violet, the senator's wife. Ken had never felt so dirty or sick.

He found the doctor in his bedroom, lying on his bed naked, staring up at the ceiling and the collage of all seven women. The music was loud and the man hummed as he writhed on the bed. He never saw Ken at all, only felt the sting of the knife cutting into his flesh.

"I'd be very still if I were you," Ken hissed.

The doctor froze, lying rigid in his bed with the razor-sharp edge of the knife pressed against his throat. "What do you want?"

"You're a sick son of a bitch," Ken said. "Does Whitney know what a sick fuck you really are?"

"He said it was all right, that I could have my girls with me all the time." The man's voice was high-pitched and whiny. "He knows. Ask him. He'll tell you. He comes in sometimes to see what I've done with them."

"Where are the original pictures kept?"

"Whitney has them all. He has places we can't go and keeps the pictures and files with him." The voice turned sly. "He only shares with me."

"Where does Whitney stay?"

"If I tell you, he'll kill me."

"I'm going to kill you right now if you don't tell me."

"He has rooms that no one can get into on the fourth level, down near the tunnels." He looked up at the staring faces of the women. "Aren't they beautiful? They like me to touch them and take their pictures."

Ken's stomach lurched, threatening to spill the contents. He slid the knife away and caught the man's head in both hands, wrenching hard, hearing the satisfying crack. Whatever legitimacy Whitney had once had, this house and this man were a testament to his growing lunacy.

I'm going to torch the house.

Damn it, Ken, don't do anything crazy. It's got to come down. I'll make certain it looks like the doc had a little accident with the gas, but this house has to burn. Because no one else was ever going to see what this perverted excuse for a man had done to those women. He was going to blow the son of a bitch into the sky, and when they investigated, they would find the doctor with his candles and matches and a loose gas hose.

He couldn't look at the walls as he worked, feeling slimy surrounded by the images of the women Whitney had experimented on and allowed a very sick man to abuse Who had stood up for Mari as a child? As a teenager? Jack and he had been in and out of a lot of foster homes and their father had been a rotten, jealous drunk who thrived on beating them, but they'd had their mother and then each other and finally a kind woman who had stood up for them when no one else would. His heart ached for Mari. He was going to be sick if he didn't get the hell out of there, his stomach churning and knotting in revulsion as he set the scene, careful to leave nothing that would indicate anything but an accident.

A slow leak no one caught, the house filled with gas, and the doctor, cavorting with his music and candles, naked in front of his obscene shrines, blown to pieces along with his house, quite tragically.

Get the hell under cover, Jack. They're going to comb the countryside when this thing goes off.

I'll cover you.

I'm going in. I need to get to her.

Damn it, no. Jack snarled it. I mean it, Ken. Get your ass back here. You're not that dumb.

I'm exactly that dumb. The thought of Mari locked down on that examining table, pinned like an insect while a sick pervert photographed her and touched her was more than he could bear. He had to get to her and hold her in his arms. It might be the biggest mistake he'd ever made, but he was going to her. She wouldn't be alone tonight.

Jack swore, a blistering round of curses that Ken ignored. He went out of the house and reset the alarms, leaving everything exactly the way he'd found it. Instead of making his way back up to the top of the bluff to join his brother, he began to crawl through the grass to reach the largest building. There was a way in, a duct, a conduit, a tunnel-anything left behind in the cement he could use. There was always a way.

He used sound, a lesser talent he had and one he wasn't the best at using, but he could bounce it off the cement walls searching for a hollow spot. The cement was thin on top of a spot near the south-facing wall. There were boxes and wooden pallets and crates of all sizes piled around. Obviously the supplies were dropped off nearby and unloaded. He restacked the larger crates and boxes loosely around him to help provide a small shelter while he worked.

It took a half hour to break through the thin layer, and another few minutes to dump the concrete into the hollow space he found inside. He knew there were often wide areas reinforced with rebar that were left open in between the walls of larger mainly military compounds, and once inside, no one would hear or detect him as he moved around, hopefully making his way to the lower levels.

I'm in. He found a crate and slid it over the opening to hide the hole. It would have to do and probably wouldn't be noticeable with so many crates piled around the area. Just as he slipped inside, pulling the crate over him, the doctor's house blew, exploding outward, sending debris raining down and red orange flames billowing with black smoke high into the air.

Men burst out of the guardhouse and began racing in all directions, silhouetted by the raging fire. An alarm began to sound, breaking the silence of the night along with the roaring of the inferno. Ken paused to watch the house burn. Glass showered down and black spots appeared on the walls, then were consumed by the hungry flames. There was intense satisfaction in knowing no one could get near the place, even as they began to try to tame it with water. It was too late. He'd opened every door to insure the gas had filled the house and it would look like Dr. Pervert had tried to light one of his many candles, accidentally setting off a bomb and blowing himself across the room, where he struck just right to break his neck.

Dogs burst out of cages somewhere, from a hidden tunnel to his left. They had known there were dogs, but they hadn't known the animals were kept inside. From his vantage point he could see the door swinging open to allow the dogs to escape into the space between the double fences. Whitney was taking no chances that his women might take advantage of the chaos and try to escape.

If they have one tunnel, they'll have more, Jack observed.

Are you clear? Sooner or later they'll get around to sending the dogs to look for someone, just to be on the safe side. I don't think Whitney takes much for granted.

I'm fine, Jack assured. You know he has to have a couple of escape routes. When this place is taken down, he doesn't intend to be on it. You know he prepared for that. He must have a dozen more laboratories just like this one.

I figured as much.

There was a small silence while they listened to flames roaring in anger, threatening the foliage and nearby trees.

That's a hell of a beautiful fire, Jack commented.

I want the walls burned, inside and out. He had floor-to-ceiling pictures of them all. Jack. Even when they were children. Whitney not only knew, but encouraged him. It was one of the sickest things I've ever seen.

Damn good thing the son of a bitch is dead then.

Ken took one last look at the raging flames, wishing it would take the sick feeling from his stomach, but his belly still rebelled, and he had to fight not to vomit every time he recalled the floor-to-ceiling wall of Mari's pictures. Her life chronicled by a perverted deviant. He wanted to smash something.

It was unlike him to give in to his violent emotions. When he went out on an assignment, it was always business. He was completely devoid of all feeling, uncaring of anything but getting the job done. When someone tried to kill him, he rarely took it personal; it was part of who and what he was. But this…

You're falling in love with that girl.

Go to hell. Jack. It isn't that. She needs protection.

So do the other women. Are you feeling the same way about them?

How can I fall in love with someone I just met?

You're shallow. I've always told you that, but you never listened to me.

It isn't love. She just-He broke off abruptly. It wasn't love. He didn't dare love. Love could turn into something really ugly with a man like him. He wanted her-wanted to take care of her and see that she had a better life.

Who was he kidding? He wanted to wake up with her in his arms, with her legs wrapped around his waist, his body grinding hard against hers, his mouth at her breasts and kissing her, hot, long kisses that never ended. It's sex. Straight-up. I get hard just thinking about her. Straight-up sex.

You lying bastard. Jack snorted in derision. You walk away from sex. She isn't just sex to you, bro. She's the fucking Fourth of July and Christmas all wrapped up in one neat package. Kenny's in love.

Keep it up, Jack, I'll tell Briony you stuck a gun to her sister's head.

You wouldn't dare.

Damn it. He refused to love the woman. He just wouldn't do it. He wasn't going to take a chance that he could turn ugly on her. He'd just keep her. Tie her to him. He was very experienced at sex and she wasn't. Keep her hot for him, wanting him. That was the key. Forget love. Jack was full of it. That way was disaster. This way he could keep her forever and never feel so much as a twinge of jealousy. Keep his emotions out of it and be safe.

Ken wiped sweat from his face and began to walk in the narrow corridor of cement, finding his way through the maze with nothing but Mari's touch to guide him to her, because one way or another-he had to reach her.