Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,83

clenched her teeth on a scream of frustration. She could kick her own butt. Trying to help a fellow human being had backfired, big time. Double backfired. If she hadn’t covered Glacier Eyes, No Neck wouldn’t have found her. If Glacier Eyes had gone into shock, he wouldn’t have been conscious enough to trip her. She didn’t regret covering him. She did regret screwing up and leaving behind the blanket packages—emblazoned with the store’s name and logo. Exhaustion, worry and her rush to get back to Con had cost her.

Glacier Eyes stared up at her. His face was contorted with pain, but he still found the energy to sneer. “Even with two broken legs, I took you down. What do you think of me now, Fairy?”

She kept her face expressionless. “You’re not worth thinking about.”

He scowled. “Oh, hey, Rico, watch yourself. There’s a—”

Bailey’s heart stuttered. He was going to tell No Neck about Con! She nudged his left leg with the tip of her boot and winced when he screamed. Then he passed out. She cringed. Who knew he’d faint? She’d merely intended to stop him from ratting out Con.

“What’d you do that for?” No Neck…what had Glacier Eyes called him? Rico sounded incredulous. Obviously, not the sharpest crayon in the box.

“He got on my last nerve.” She hadn’t wanted to hurt the man. But protecting Con was her number-one priority. Now, she needed to redirect Rico’s attention from his buddy’s cryptic message. She tugged against his grasp on her curls. If one more Neanderthal yanked her around by the hair, she would break his fingers. “Let go of my hair, you cretin.”

Amazingly, Rico complied. Bailey spun to face him. She wasn’t scared. She was heartily sick of being afraid. She was mad. No, mad didn’t do how she felt justice. She was livid. Raging.

Breathing fire.

She planted her hands on her hips and glared at her captor. She was outgunned. Outmaneuvered. Out of options.

“Take me to Tony,” she demanded. “Now.”

Chapter 14

3:00 a.m.

Con jolted awake, his heart thundering in his chest. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He struggled to sit up. Where was he? Darkness pressed in from every corner. A hammer clanged inside his skull. Dizziness and nausea broadsided him, making him reel. His instincts were screaming. Bailey’s face hovered in his thoughts.

Bailey!

He didn’t search. Didn’t call out. The vast emptiness, the frozen despair in his guts told him she was gone.

Where?

Loyal to the point of death, Bailey would never desert him. He flung off the blankets, as thick and heavy as the fog muddling his thoughts. Had Syrone radioed for help while Con was out? As much as he’d like to think so, he didn’t believe it for a second. Syrone wouldn’t endanger Bailey’s life. Under any circumstances.

He peered at his watch, the illuminated dial stark blue in the icy gloom, and his queasy stomach pitched. He’d been dead to the world over an hour. Was Bailey with Nan? No. He’d barricaded mother and baby inside the salon. Bailey couldn’t get to them.

That left one possibility. One he couldn’t bear to consider.

Like an answer from his worst nightmare, the receiving light on the blue walkie-talkie blinked. A surge of adrenaline blasted his sluggish reflexes, and he attached the headset with unsteady hands. Dread jittered inside him as he turned on the unit. He didn’t have to say anything. The corresponding light on the robbers’ unit would show he’d connected.

“About friggin’ time,” Tony’s graveled voice said. “I’ve got someone here who wants to speak to you.”

Con’s heart stopped beating. Oh, Lord. Please, no!

“C’mon, cupcake. Deliver the message,” Tony demanded.

Taut silence hummed over the line. Con held his breath.

“Noncompliance. We’re gonna have to do this the hard way.” Tony sighed, but he sounded almost pleased.

Without warning, Bailey screamed. A high-pitched blade of pain, slicing Con’s skin, drawing blood.

His heart slammed into his rib cage and tried to hammer out of his chest. What had the bastard done to her? His throbbing brain conjured up half a dozen horrifying images, and he squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t help. “You sonofabitch,” he snarled into the mic. “Plan on having a closed casket. Because when I get done with you, what’s left won’t be recognizable.”

“Aha. The anonymous thorn in my ass speaks up at last. I want you. Unarmed. In the multiplex. Ten minutes…or the cupcake dies.” Tony laughed, low and ugly. “And I’ll make sure it hurts.” He broke the connection.

Bile surged into Con’s throat. He was shaking like a rookie in his