Perfect Ruin (Unyielding #2) Read online

  “They were rather… displeased with your last email.” The stranger’s smoky voice triggered shivers to trail down my spine and my toes to curl in my running shoes. His tone was calm with a hint of a British accent, almost bored sounding. But underneath, it was threaded with danger. I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted blood.

  He tilted his head in my direction and I held my breath. I waited for him to kick the door the rest of the way open and drag me out. I prayed the shadows kept me hidden enough, but if he turned his head a little more….

  He didn’t. Instead, he tipped his head down to peer at his knife, causing a few strands of his dark russet hair to fall forward and brush his defined cheekbones. There was no question he was attractive, but if there was ever a time to use the idiom ‘looks were deceiving,’ it was now.

  “It’s delicate and the resources are difficult—” My father’s voice cut off when the man abruptly interrupted.

  “Excuses are not an option.”

  I had the urge to burst out of the closet with the broom and smash the guy over the head. But I’d never been a fighter and I sure as hell couldn’t take on a guy like this. But no matter how senseless it would be to try to get a knife from a deadly man who obviously handled one like it was part of him, I was not going to stand here and do nothing if he went for my father.

  I eyed my phone sitting beside the computer across the room. Even if I had it with me, he’d see the light on the screen the moment I pressed any buttons.

  He lowered his knife to his side then slowly turned his head and his piercing green eyes locked on the closet. I quickly squeezed my eyes closed, afraid he’d see the whites of them blazing in the darkness. My muscles cramped as I tensed, fear seizing every nerve in my body.

  Oh, God, don’t see me. Don’t see me.

  I squinted to peek at him and was greeted by a mild twitch at the corner of his mouth as if… as if he knew I was here.

  But he didn’t drag me out; instead, I heard a mild chuckle as he walked away.

  I opened my eyes and inhaled quiet gasps of air. The quivering in my body was so bad that the broom pressing into my back vibrated. I quickly stepped away and my legs buckled. I placed my palm on the wall for support while I looked at the shelf across from me, searching for anything that I might be able to use as a weapon if I needed to.

  Shelves of paper towels. Containers of hand soap. Bottles of disinfectants. Where were the hammers and nail guns when you needed them? Shit, I’d have to resort to using the broom if necessary and no doubt get myself laughed at, then killed.

  I stepped a few inches forward to peer out the door and saw him leaning up against the counter where there were several computers. He crossed his ankles and arms, the knife gone or at least hidden from my line of sight. My gaze hit the purple leather bag right beside him.

  My purse. Shit.

  Okay, it could belong to anyone. Except my dad would know it was mine. Had he seen it? Did he know I was here?

  “Kai, please. I need more time to come up with that much.”

  Kai? I’d never heard my dad mention the name and I sure as hell never heard my dad’s voice tremble before. He was always quiet and steady, solid. My mother had been the unstable and flamboyant one from what I remembered of her. She’d died in a fire when I was fourteen years old and her vast amounts of wealth were left to my dad, which he used to start his own lab. But he was never the same after she died, becoming more and more reclusive and spending most of his time in the lab while a nanny raised me.

  “They’re tired of waiting. You knew the deadline.”

  “Please.” My father’s voice rose with panic. “I need two more months.”

  “You’ve had years. Your time is up.”

  What? My father had been working on something for this man for years? How many years? Why? What was he working on? It had to be a drug, but what kind of drug?

  Kai reached inside his suit jacket and removed his knife. My heart raced and I wanted to look away, but couldn’t. With the tip of his blade, he put it under one of the straps of my purse and with a mild upward jerk, he cut the leather.

  Oh, fuck.

  He raised his chin and looked toward the closet, his brows rising with a slight grin. I heard my father sputtering on about testing, but the words were lost to the fear that skipped through me. My nails dug into the drywall as his gaze remained locked on the closet.

  Striking was the word that came to mind when I looked at him. The second word was lethal. Intense, sculpted jaw and matching cheekbones—chiseled and flawless, just like his expensive suit.

  There was an old world look to him that matched his confident expression. No, it was more than confident. It was fearless, as if he had nothing to lose, nothing could touch him. And even if I could by some miracle reach my phone and call the police, I suspected he’d merely laugh at the inconvenience of having to take his suit to the cleaners after killing anyone who tried to stop him.

  But it was his eyes that captivated me, and wouldn’t let me go. A deep jade that held amusement mixed with a dangerous glint, which completely contradicted one another.

  And just when I thought he’d walk over and drag me kicking and screaming from the closet, he put his knife away and directed his eyes back on my father who I couldn’t see. “You have one week.”

  My dad sputtered, “Kai, that’s impossible. Please, you have to tell them I can’t have it ready by then. Make them understand—”

  Kai laughed and the sound was magnetic, as if his voice alone could kidnap you and make you do anything he asked. “Your misconception of the situation is rather amusing, Dr. Westbrook.” He pushed away from the counter. “Have a shipment of the drug ready within the week.”

  I swallowed as his gaze turned toward the closet again and I leaned back further into the shadows, only able to catch a glimpse of the side of his face. My heart thudded so loud I swore he had to hear it.

  “Walk out with me, Doctor.” He moved out of sight and I nearly collapsed to the floor as every muscle relaxed and the trembling took over. Okay, he wouldn’t hurt my dad, at least for now, and we could call the police and they’d deal with him. “You have a beautiful daughter by the way.”

  My head smacked into the wall. Oh, God, he had seen me. But how did he know I was Dr. Westbrook’s daughter?

  “Don’t you dare touch her,” my dad shouted.

  My father never raised his voice in anger, he rarely became angry. He’d claimed the emotion was weak and failed to accomplish more than acting irrational.

  Kai’s voice lowered. “If this goes wrong, it won’t be me touching her… unfortunately.”

  My breath hitched.

  I heard the automatic door glide across with a hiss then close again.

  I collapsed against the wall then slowly slid down until my butt hit the hard linoleum floor. His words repeated over and over in my head. ‘It won’t be me touching her… unfortunately.’

  I waited five minutes for my father to come back, but he didn’t, so I grabbed my cell and my purse with the sliced strap and left the lab.

  As I passed familiar faces in the building, I asked if anyone had seen my father. No one had and my fear intensified with each rushed step out to my car.

  I searched the parking lot for his silver Mercedes, but it wasn’t in the usual spot. Did he go home? Please, let him have gone home. I jogged the rest of the way to my car, dialing my dad’s cell for the fifth time, but it kept going straight to voice mail.

  Dad, come on, pick up. But it was usual for him to have his phone off. That was why if I ever needed him, I just came straight to his lab because he was always here.

  I lowered my phone and pressed unlock on the doors of my car. I glanced at my hand and saw the trembling. I was normally steady and calm like my dad, but there was none of that in me at that moment. I felt like a slow-burning firecracker ready to burst into sparks of emotions.

  I jumped in the car and shut the door, tossing my purse and cell on the passenger seat, th
en leaned my forehead against the steering wheel as I tried to get back some of the calm that had been smothered by that man’s haunting image.

  I was good at figuring things out, connecting puzzle pieces, but none of this made sense. How could my dad be working on something for years and never say anything? Why would he work with a man like Kai?

  I stiffened and froze as the hairs on the back of my neck rose like little warning soldiers and my heart skipped a beat.

  Oh, God.

  That scent. It was in my car. Him.

  I slowly inched my hand toward the door handle.

  “Not a smart idea,” he drawled. “And I know you’re a smart girl, London.”

  I jerked into action, diving for the handle with both hands, but his knife was under my chin before it unlatched. The emerging scream locked in my throat as I stilled, breathing harsh, chest rising and falling rapidly as I waited for the slice of the blade across my jugular.

  “Start the car and drive nice and easy out of the parking lot.”

  The knife left my throat and I glanced in the rear-view mirror as he leaned back against the seat looking as if he were going for a ride to the grocery store. He didn’t appear angry, merely annoyed at this inconvenience with his lowered brows and lips lightly pressed together.

  I started the car and let it idle for a second as my brain calculated my options.

  “Seatbelt, my dear,” he said.

  ‘Never let them take you to a second location’ kept repeating in my head.

  I reached over my shoulder and pulled the strap across my body. I pretended to fumble with the clip and tilted my head slightly to see if he was watching me. The bastard was texting. Texting. As if he were making dinner arrangements or chatting with a friend about the ball game.

  I let the belt go and it hadn’t even snapped back in place before I had my door open and one foot out of the car. He was halfway over the seat when his arm hooked my neck.

  His grip wasn’t strangling, but it was firm and I was forced back in the car. His icy words bit into me as he whispered in my ear. “You want your father to live?”

  I swallowed and nodded.

  He slid the flat side of his knife over my chin. “Good. So do I.”

  I swallowed and the pressure of the knife increased as he caressed my throat with it. I’d seen how easily it sliced my purse strap. I knew with little effort he’d cut open my delicate skin.

  He released me and the seat leather creaked as he sat back again. “Shut the door and let’s go for a drive.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Oh, there will be plenty of time for questions, London.”

  The way his accented voice dragged out my name it was as if I’d heard him say it before. But it wasn’t my name; he’d called me something else. But that was impossible; I’d never met this guy before and he wasn’t someone you’d easily forget.

  “Where’s my dad?” Had he hurt him? Maybe that was why he didn’t come back to the lab. My grip on the steering wheel tightened as did the ache in my chest at the thought.

  “I suspect on his way home to pour himself a drink.”

  “My dad doesn’t drink,” I blurted. He hadn’t touched alcohol since my mother died. I think it was because he felt responsible somehow for her death, although he wasn’t. My mother was a heavy drinker and a careless smoker. According to the fire department, the carelessness killed her. But my dad took responsibility on his shoulders for everything.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror and he met my eyes like he’d been waiting for me to look at him. The corners of his mouth curved up. “An intelligent man. But I already knew that.” He leaned closer so his elbows rested on the back of my seat, lips inches from my ear as he whispered, “Drive, my brave little scientist.”

  How did he know I was a scientist? Or rather, studying to be one.

  I slipped the gearshift into drive and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. The automatic gate arm lifted to let us pass and I wished there were old school security guards instead of the transponder on my dashboard.

  So many thoughts whirled in my head. I could steer us into a tree and hopefully escape. That was if I didn’t kill myself. Or if I went over the speed limit, maybe we’d pass a cop and get pulled over. Or I could….

  “You’re beautiful.” His deep voice caused me to jump and the car lurched forward. “But when you’re contemplating escape, it’s rather… adorable.”

  Adorable? I didn’t even think that word was in his vocabulary. “What do you want with my father?”

  “Aren’t you concerned about what I want with you?”

  “No.” I was, but he was so arrogant that I had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of knowing I was completely terrified of that exact thing.

  I caught his reflection in the mirror and he grinned. For a brief second, a flicker of relief warmed me because his grin was mesmerizing. Not evil or malicious, it simply made him look engaging. And that was why he was even more dangerous—because it was deceiving.

  “And you heard enough to know what I want. You’re clever, London. Maybe even too clever for your own good. And, I understand, about to graduate with full honors in pharmacology and toxicology. Impressive. Following in your father’s footsteps. I’d advise not to follow too far.”

  Whatever the hell that meant.

  I glanced at my speedometer, slowly pressing on the gas and now going twenty over the speed limit. I needed to keep him talking so he didn’t notice how fast we were going. “I’m going to be late for class.”

  “Classes are done for the day.”

  I stiffened. How the hell did he know that? “It’s a yoga class.”

  He chuckled. “You don’t take yoga.”

  Holy hell. Who was this guy? “Well, I didn’t, but I do now.” Of course, that was a lie, because I could barely touch my toes never mind curl into a pretzel.

  “Mmm, I do believe you are lying, but I’ll let it slide… for now.” He moved and it was quick, agile like a sleek panther. Deadly. He had his hands on my shoulders, squeezing, but it wasn’t painful. “Slow down and take the dirt path up there on your right.”

  Path? It was hardly a path, more like a parting of trees that led into the woods. All I could picture was my body being found in the middle of nowhere, ripped apart by wild animals. I wasn’t ready to die. I wouldn’t. I may not be a fighter, but I sure as hell would fight with everything I had to survive. “Are you going to kill me?”

  He sighed. “You’re letting your imagination run away with you. I have no intentions of hurting you—unless of course you hurt me first.”

  I inwardly huffed at the thought. I couldn’t imagine anyone being able to hurt this man.

  I did as he instructed and the car bounced as it crept along the wooded path until I saw another car parked ahead. “Pull up behind it, then give me your keys.”

  As soon as I did, he got out of the back seat, but didn’t shut the door and I knew why, so I didn’t lock him out. Not that it would stop him for very long as he had the keys.

  I did have my cell though. I quickly reached for it just as he politely opened my door as if he were my date. “Out.” He held out his hand to assist, but I ignored it. He took my hand anyway, his fingers curling around mine.

  When I stood, I almost collapsed—my legs were shaking so badly. He must have noticed because he leaned me up against the car.

  “Toss the cell back inside.”

  I gritted my teeth, but I did what he ordered and he shut the door.

  “Don’t move,” he said.

  He strode to his car, his expensive suit making him appear completely out of place in the middle of the woods. I glanced toward the road and wondered if I could make it before he caught me. He was wearing dress shoes and I was in my running shoes.

  I could make it.

  “My knife is faster than you,” he said without even glancing over his shoulder at me.

  Shit.

  He opened his car door, bent and reach
ed inside. I expected him to pull out a gun, but instead, he held a cell phone—another one. He’d had one in his pocket that he’d been texting on in my car. He tapped on the screen then placed it to his ear.

  “He wants two months.” He slowly walked toward me and with every step closer, my heart pounded harder. “I know what I have to do.” He stopped in front of me and so did my breath as I stared up at him.

  God, there wasn’t a flicker of uncertainty in him. It was like the world worked around him. He owned it. Owned me. Owned my father. Owned the bloody ground.

  He stood inches away, his eyes locked on mine as he listened to whoever was on the other end. I couldn’t hear what was being said and his indifferent expression failed to give away whether he was pleased or pissed off at their words.

  “I have her already,” he said in an abrupt tone, his eyes darkening. “I’ll deal with the situation like I always do.” He stiffened and his jaw clenched.

  I licked my dry lips, refusing to look away, but the nerves in my body sparked off in warning. Of what, I wasn’t sure of yet. And I think that was his intention.

  He reached out and before I could move, his hand curved around the back of my neck, dragging me closer. I tensed as the warning sparks turned into emergency flares and my chest rose and fell erratically.

  He scoffed then said into the phone. “He’ll get the message.”

  His fingers tightened when I tried to move back and I winced under the pressure. The look in his eyes changed to amusement again as his hard, muscled body closed the space between us.

  It pissed me off and I didn’t care if he tried to kill me, I was running. I raised my elbow and hit his arm as hard as I could, dislodging his grip on my neck. I ducked and dove under his arm.

  He dove for me, his fingers latching onto the sleeve of my shirt. The material gave to the pressure and ripped, but I was free.

  I ran toward the road.

  My heart slammed into my chest and I stumbled on my trembling legs. I was not a runner, but my life depended on me being one.