Fiancé by Friday (The Weekday Brides #3)(66)
Author: Catherine Bybee

Neil crouched on the ground and removed a detonator from his field jacket. “Stay alert. I’m bringing him back.”

With a press of a button, a smoke bomb went off in Raven’s path.

Their target shifted his body and broke through the northeast flank. Neil rushed to get ahead of him. Behind him, he heard Rick moving.

When Raven neared another diversion, Neil let the bomb go off.

The area started to fill with smoke despite the heavy rain that started to fall.

Neil lost sight of Raven.

“Where is he?” Rick asked.

“Don’t know.”

Neil scanned the area, but on ground level, he couldn’t see jack. It was times like this he wished he were built like a squirrel so he could scurry up a tree and look.

He swiveled around, in case Raven managed to dart by without him seeing. He was about to give up when he noticed a blur fifty yards west.

Right in the face of the cliff. Perfect!

“We’ve boxed him in.”

Gwen bundled into the sweatshirt she owned and used the extra material to hide the fact that she had on a couple of layers of clothing. There was no possible way Neil knew how off his friend was. She’d find a way off his property and manage a phone call at one of the stores on base. Between her brother and Carter…she’d be safe.

Safer than she was here.

She managed to maneuver through the house, placing a couple of snack bars in her pockets in case it proved difficult to wait for her brother. Every squeak in the house made her pause. The television had been turned off and the silence made her shiver.

In the backyard, she found the spot she’d abandoned the day before and pretended to pull weeds and turn the soil. Within fifteen minutes, her back ached from the previous day’s labor, not that it would stop her from acting as if she were settling into the job.

She didn’t need to look to know Charles watched. He wasn’t obvious this time by standing in a window, but she felt his eyes on her nonetheless. Once she’d accumulated a pile of weeds, she gathered them in her gloved hands and acted as though she were searching for a trash can. The side of the house was bare of cans, which she knew from the day before. There was however, a gate, leading to the front yard. She dropped the contents of her hands and eased the gate open. With her path clear, she walked swiftly, avoiding a run. The rock crushed beneath her feet and the sound of soft rain was all that accompanied her.

She smiled, despite the cold.

At the end of the drive, she turned toward the main road and rounded the corner. She peered over her shoulder and didn’t see if he followed her.

Gwen released a nervous laugh and turned toward the road.

Charles stood a few feet away. His clothes wet. “Going somewhere?”

It took every effort not to scream. Not that there was anyone near enough to hear her. And what would she say anyway? “A short walk.” She ignored the fact her hands were still covered with dirty gloves.

His humorless face strode to her. “Alone?”

“This weather reminds me of home,” she told him. “There’s no need for you to come along.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You aren’t dressed for a walk. I won’t be long.” She moved to step around him.

He blocked her path. “No. You won’t.” He reached out and grasped her arm, turning her back to the house.

“Excuse me?” She tugged away from him but his vise grip wouldn’t allow her to move. His fingers dug into her flesh beneath the layers of fabric she wore, and pain shot down her arm.

Charles said nothing as he marched her up his drive and back into the house.

“Release me,” she insisted once they were inside and he’d closed the door behind him.

He twisted the lock and chained the dead bolt, all the while holding her to the point of bruising her skin.

“Mr. Blayney, I don’t take kindly to violence. Release me at once.” Between the cold and wet of outside and the growing concern of what the man holding her was going to do, Gwen began to tremble.

Instead of acting on her demand, Charles shoved her ahead of him down the hall and to a door in the back of the kitchen. Through the pantry was another passage, one she’d hardly noticed before. Behind that was a set of stairs descending to a basement.

Gwen dug her heels into the floor and braced her hands on a doorframe.

“What are you doing?”

“What I was told to do should you attempt to escape.”

“What?” Told to do? What was he talking about?

Charles peeled her fingers off the doorframe. “Keeping you against your will for the sake of our great country.”

“That’s preposterous. I’m not a threat to your country.” Although she might consider bodily harm to the man holding her.

“I don’t know about that. Snooping around my home, finding classified information…”

What information? She’d only found pictures.

“And since you’re practically a US citizen I’m within my rights to hold you against your will.”

Her thoughts turned to Neil. Did he know Major Blayney would hold her like this? The expression on her face must have shown her question.

Charles released a sadistic laugh. “You don’t think he married you because he wanted to, do you?”

Her heart dropped. “Of course he did.”

“You go on believing that.”

Without further words, he shoved her down the stairs and into the lower quarters of the house. Like any basement, it was dark, damp, and smelled of mold. The walls were finished but the dark pegboard was less than comforting. An old sofa sat center room and boxes were stacked along the back wall. There were only a couple of lights above her head and not one window to be seen.

“You can’t leave me down here.”

“You’ve proven you can’t be left to your own recognizance.”

Charles shoved her down and twisted her arms behind her. Dirt from the couch drifted to her nose and made her cough.

“Stop.” She struggled under his grasp but didn’t manage any leverage. She felt the steel on her wrist before she realized what Charles was doing. “This isn’t necessary. Clearly you can overpower me.”

“Neil will not approve of what you’re doing.” She pleaded, using everything she could. “Your wife might come home and find me here.”

“My wife is in Florida searching for retirement houses she’ll never live in. Once she realized no one was dying I needed to give her a reason to stay. You don’t think her leaving was an accident, do you?”