The remembered pain washed over him again. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. He had seen to it that she rotted in hell, but her daughter was still alive. And so were all the other ugly freaks who were like her.
But not for long.
He would ignore Sienna's scarcely hidden contempt as he had all these years. He could resent but not blame him for not believing that Steven had been a victim of that witch. Sometimes when Molino woke in the middle of the night he didn't believe it either.
But it was true until he could make it a lie. Until he could wipe out those freaks. Until he could destroy Megan Blair and find the Ledger.
"WE'RE BEING FOLLOWED," HARLEY'S GAZE was fastened on the rear view mirror of the rental car they'd picked up at Stockholm airport. "Black Volvo. One man, I think. That probably means surveillance, not murder."
"How comforting," Megan murmured. "May I point out that there was just one man in the car that ran me off the highway?"
"Yes, but I wasn't with you." He grinned. "My reputation would be much more intimidating. I'd strike terror in their hearts."
"I don't find you intimidating."
"Because I've made an effort to tone down my aggressive nature for you." He glanced again at the rearview mirror. "I'm going to have to lose him. I don't want him on our tail when we reach the dock."
"Dock?"
"We're taking a speedboat to a private airport up the coast. We'll be flying to Paris from there." He pressed his foot on the accelerator. "Hold on. Here we go."
Hold on was right, she thought as Harley made an abrupt right down a narrow street and then screeched a left down the second boulevard.
"He's still with us," Harley murmured. "He's pretty good. It's going to take a little skill. What a pleasure..."
Pleasure? The next fifteen minutes were like riding a roller coaster, Megan thought desperately. By the time Harley was satisfied that they had lost the Volvo and they had arrived at the dock, Megan was dizzy and completely disoriented.
"Don't they have traffic police in Stockholm?" she asked as she got out of the car. "I'm surprised we didn't get stopped."
"Actually, Stockholm is very law-abiding and the traffic control is very strict here. Which is why we should jump in that speedboat and get out of town. I'm sure we've been reported a dozen times." He helped her into the boat. "I don't think Grady would like us to be detained."
"You should have thought of that before you started driving as if you were at the Indianapolis speedway."
"No, those drivers are skilled, but they have no spontaneity. I'm much better at street driving than they are. Did I mention I was once a stunt driver in Hollywood?"
"No, you didn't. You said you were once an EMT driver. What else?"
"Oh, all kinds of things," he said vaguely as he started the boat. "I like change." He shot her a glance. "And I'm not like Grady or you, who are shackled by that psychic stuff. I do what I like and let other people tote the heavy burdens."
"How nice for you. But I have no intention of being shackled by anything but my own will. I chose medicine and that's what I intend to do."
"Good for you." He gunned the boat. "Then I only have to feel sorry for Grady."
GRADY WAS WAITING FOR THEM when their chartered flight landed at a small airport in Chantilly, a short distance outside Paris.
Megan felt the familiar tension tighten her muscles as she watched him cross the tarmac toward their plane. The wind was blowing his jeans and navy blue sweater against his lean body and there was something …different about him. Before he had given the impression of contained power, but now his stride was purposeful and charged with energy. The power was present but it was no longer contained. It was channeled, flowing, ready to ignite. She instinctively braced herself as if to combat that energy.
"It's okay," Harley murmured, studying her expression. "You can handle him."
Of course, she could. And that change in Grady's demeanor could be her imagination. She nodded, rose to her feet, and headed for the exit. "No doubt about it. He just looks primed."
"He's in action mode. He usually does." Harley followed her down the aisle. "But maybe not this much..."
"Any problems?" Grady asked Harley as he helped Megan from the plane. "A tail in Stockholm. I got rid of him."
"By driving like someone from an old Steve McQueen movie," Megan said dryly.
"I'm better than that," Harley protested. "That stunt driver would never have managed to shake that tail. He was pretty good." He glanced at Grady. "What next?"
"I've made reservations at an inn nearby. I've arranged for one of the cottages on the grounds. We'll stay there while you go check everything out."
Harley nodded. "I'm on my way. I'll rent a car and start tonight." He headed for the tiny terminal at the end of the runway. "Get her something to eat. She wouldn't have anything but peanuts on that flight from Atlanta." He grinned back over his shoulder at Megan. "I wouldn't want anyone to think I hadn't delivered you in tip-top shape. I take pride in my work."
"Whatever it is?" She made a face. "Now you're acting like a mother hen. I don't believe that was one of your previous occupations."
"God, no. Now that's scary. Much too much responsibility."
She found herself smiling as she watched him disappear into the terminal. Harley was odd and quirky and not like anyone she had ever met but she felt more at ease with him than she did with people she had known for years.
"You like him." Grady's gaze was fastened on her face. "It doesn't surprise me. Most people gravitate toward Harley."
"Gravitate? That's a strange word to use."
He shrugged. "It fits. He draws people to him like a sun does a planet."
"I think he'd laugh at that simile." She smiled. "Or maybe not. He'd probably be flattered and take it as his due."
"You did manage to get to know Harley well on the way here." He took her elbow and nudged her toward the waiting car. "I believe I'm a little jealous."
She shot him a skeptical glance. "And I believe you're lying to me. Why?"
"Because I'm detecting a hint of intimacy. For the past twelve years I've been the one living intimately with you." He stared directly into her eyes. "I don't like anyone else coming that close."
She felt a surge of heat move through her. His words had come out of nowhere, surprising her. So had her response to those words. "You may have been living intimately with me but it was completely one-sided. And do you think I haven't had genuine intimate relations with other men during those years?"
"Oh, yes. One of them was a lukewarm affair during your sophomore year in college. It didn't bother me at all. The other was with that young Latin boy. What was his name? Julio something." His lips thinned.
"Now your going to bed with him bothered the hell out of me. You were feeling too much. It was a cross between screwing you myself and erotic voyeurism. It was disturbing as the devil. After that I had to find a way to close myself off from you during intimate moments."
Her cheeks were stinging as the color flooded them. "Are you trying to embarrass me? Stop talking like this. You're almost a stranger to me."
"Almost." He opened the door of the car for her. "But that's the key word. You knew me very well that summer on the beach."