Page 3 of Made of Steele
Empty.
Her heart thumped, and she let out a long breath before heading back to the other side of the space where a steel door led into the warehouse. She took a moment to consider her options.
Enter the warehouse or wait for Patrick to return? No brainer. She wasn’t a waiting kind of person.
She pulled the handle and slipped into the dark room. The glowing red exit signs above the doors and a few single bulbs at ceiling height cast shadows and left the space dark and eerie. She let her vision adjust to the dim lighting.
Voices sounded ahead. Not Patrick’s. Urgent. Demanding voices.
She drew her weapon and started forward, walking on her tiptoes. Silently. Cautiously. Entering the online sales storage area holding rack after rack of steel shelves with crates of supplies boasting easy-to-read labels.
She moved deeper into the space. Inching toward the loading dock.
Closer to the voices.
A hand shot out of the dark aisle behind her, cupping her mouth. Another arm, strong, like iron, jerked her body into the nearest aisle. Patrick sat on the floor, wrists and ankles bound. Gagged. His eyes wide. Worried.
She struggled to free herself. Kicking. Squirming. Jabbing with her elbows. No success. The man’s rock-hard arms held her in place. Not one of the Conti brothers. The fourth man. Or maybe another person Patrick had not seen.
Her mind raced, flying over possibilities as she kept struggling.
What in the world had she and Patrick stumbled upon?
More importantly, would it cost them their lives?
Drew kept his arms around the woman he recognized as Teagan Steele. She kicked. Fought. Tried to scream. Her strength surprised him. She was slender but packed with muscle. Solidly packed.
“Shh,” he whispered in her ear. “I won’t hurt you. Just keeping you from making a mistake you’ll regret.”
She struggled even harder.
“If these men find out you’re in the room they’ll kill you. Same goes for your guard here. So stop moving and making noise. If not for yourself, for his sake.” Drew put as much urgency into his voice as he could while still whispering.
She went slack in his arms and planted her feet on the floor. He didn’t let go of her mouth or her very shapely body. A body he’d admired several times when she’d stopped by to talk with the Conti brothers about how her company’s security guards were performing their duties. She was all about customer service, and Drew suspected she would comply with his demands not for herself but for the guard. Drew had restrained the guy to keep him from stumbling into something that would get him killed.
The fake feed was supposed to have prevented all of this. So what had brought the guard back here?
And now this! Seriously. This was not how Drew had expected the night to go. He could only imagine the questions going through both of their minds, the first being who the heck he was and did he plan to kill them? As much as he wanted to explain, as an undercover ICE Agent investigating antiquities theft, he couldn’t say a word.
“I’m going to secure you, just as I did your guard,” he said. “I have to release your mouth. If you say a word, I’ll kill your guard. Do you understand?”
She gave a soft whimper.
Oh, man.The defenseless sound tore at his heart. He hated putting her through this and wanted to confess his real identity. That was one of the greatest challenges of undercover work. Keeping in character no matter the situation. No matter how beautiful and charming the women he ran into.
To see a strong woman like her defenseless like this? And at his doing? That was rough. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t killing anyone but needed her compliance for her own good.
He released her mouth, keeping his hand close for a moment to see if she would cry out, ready to clamp down again.
She let out a long burst of air, but didn’t speak. He retrieved a zip tie from his pocket. When the guard started getting nosey, Drew had found ties next to flowery quilt fabric in the warehouse to contain the guard and tied a strip of the floral fabric around his mouth.
He bound her wrists together, trying to be as gentle as he could. He used the same fabric to gag her and eased her down to the floor, then zip-tied her slender ankles. She wore a body-hugging skirt and matching jacket in a pale blue color, accenting her shiny black hair. He’d never seen her this close up and looked in big brown eyes that were glaring at him with an icy stare that would freeze his emotions if he didn’t find her so very intriguing.
“Sorry about this,” he whispered. “It’s for your own good.”
She murmured something. Not likely a kind sentiment.
“Both of you stay here until we’re gone. Then you can call for help.”
