Midnight Abduction

by Nichole Severn

  Her attacker stood over her, a hint of sweat and new car smell working deep into her lungs. This wasn’t some run-of-the-mill criminal set on covering up a murder. The way he moved, the way he’d targeted her wound. He was a professional. Former military, or at least trained in advanced maneuvers, and he’d put Benning and his family in his sights. “You weren’t supposed to get involved, Agent Ramirez.”

  “Congratulations, you’ve done your homework and figured out who I am.” Shaking her head, she clamped a hand over her side and struggled to her feet, only to collapse again. Blood soaked through her cookie dough-stained shirt. Mierda. Would she have any clothes left by the time this case was over? She forced her breathing to slow and swallowed the dryness in her throat. Steel resolve pulled her shoulders back, and she settled her gaze on her attacker’s. She’d made Benning a promise. She’d given him her word to protect him, protect Olivia and bring Owen home. She wasn’t about to fail him now. “What I want to know is who the hell are you? And where’s Benning?”

  A hollow laugh filtered through the pounding behind her ears. In less than two moves, he dropped the magazine from her service weapon and disassembled the gun. Pocketing the magazine, he tossed the rest, the sound of metal on wood a shock straight to her nerves.

  “I know you, Ramirez. I used to be you, so believe me when I say it’d be in your best interest to walk away while you still can.” He shot his hand out, gripping her throat and hauling her into his muscled chest. Her heart threatened to punch through her rib cage as he squeezed hard enough to constrict her airway. He cocked his head to one side, revealing a line of flawless skin between the ski mask and his leather jacket. He braced his feet apart as she struggled with both hands around his wrist. “Mr. Reeves took something that didn’t belong to him, and now I’m the one who has to clean up the mess, but I wanted to give you a choice. For old time’s sake. Give me the skull, hand over Benning Reeves and I’ll let you live, or count yourself among the casualties when I’m done.”

  The skull. He didn’t have it. Which meant someone else had taken it from the fireplace. Not the killer. Not Benning. Then who?

  “Give me... Owen, and... I’ll let you...live.” Her eyes watered, that dark gaze blurring in her vision. Or was it the lack of oxygen making her dizzy? Didn’t matter. In another thirty seconds—maybe a minute—none of this would matter. She had to stay awake, had to keep him from reaching Olivia, give Benning and his daughter a chance to run.

  “I take it you’re declining my offer,” he said.

  She dug her fingernails into her attacker’s skin, drawing blood. His grip faltered, and Ana took advantage. Releasing her hands from his wrists, she struck his knee as hard as she could with her heel, and he dropped. She wrapped her hand and wrist close to his ear and used her weight to slam the side of his head into the floor. Her throat burned as she breathed, the muscles alongside her neck already sore. “I take it you haven’t done nearly as much research on me as you should have.”

  A glint of moonlight off metal was all she noted before pain sliced across her arm. Her body twisted with the swipe of the blade, giving her attacker enough time to close the distance between them. Targeting her midsection, he hefted her off her feet, his arms locked around her waist. Ana jabbed her elbow into the sensitive bundle of nerves at the base of his spine as he pushed her backward. Once. Twice. Pain exploded through her lower back as he rammed her into the island countertop, and her laptop crashed to the floor. She blocked the hit aimed for the right side of her jaw, but the second swing came in too fast. She hit the floor. Hard.

  “I didn’t want it to end like this, Ramirez.” His footsteps reverberated off the old wood flooring as her attacker took position above her. “You were one of the good ones until you put your own selfish needs over saving that poor girl.”

  Samantha Perry? How did he—

  Lightning spread through her. Every breath, every movement on her part, taught her a new lesson in pain tolerance. Raising her head, she caught sight of her discarded service weapon. He’d stripped it down, removed the magazine, but she wouldn’t give up. The front door swung inward on its hinges, cold leaking into the cabin. Olivia had gotten away, but for how long? Alone, unarmed, unprotected, the girl wouldn’t last the night on her own out there in the woods. Blood dripped from her nose, the taste of salt and copper filling her mouth as she reached for her gun only a few feet away. “I’m not dead...yet.”

  “Then let’s get to it, shall we?” Ripping her off the floor, he dragged her toward the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the north side of the cabin and spun her back into the glass. The window vibrated along her spine, cracks spidering outward, and her blood pressure spiked higher. “Nothing personal, Ramirez. You used to be a good agent, just not good enough to beat me.”

  He landed a hard kick to her stomach, and the window shattered, sending her into darkness.

  * * *

  THE CRUNCH OF footsteps in snow pierced through the haze in his head.

  Benning pulled his chin from his chest, but his head hit something solid. Pain exploded down his neck. Son of a... Sections of his shoulder-length hair caught in his beard. What the hell happened? His shoulders ached, the cold working into his joints, but that wasn’t what was stopping him from moving his arms. He’d been tied against a tree, with rope from the feel of it. Who—

  He’d been chopping wood to distract himself after accusing Ana of being nothing more than a shell of the woman he’d fallen in love with. Regret for what he’d said had only served to push him harder, torn open the gaping wound he’d struggled to plug since she’d left. Obviously without success. He’d heard something move in the trees. Then there’d been nothing but darkness. He’d been hit from behind. Someone had knocked him unconscious. Someone knew they were here.

  “Your son is running out of time, Mr. Reeves.” Motion-detecting lights cast the man in front of him into shadow, a ski mask covering the bastard’s face. Snow crunched under heavy footfalls as his attacker crouched in front of him. Gravel coated the man’s voice, but instant recognition threw Benning back to the night Owen and Olivia had been taken. It was him, the man who’d pointed a gun at him on that construction site and abducted his son. “I gave you twenty-four hours to hand over what you took from the site, and now you’ve forced me to do something I don’t want to do.” The cabin’s outdoor lights reflected off a jagged-edged blade, stained with some dark substance along the blade—blood?—and Benning leveraged his feet into the snow. “Where is the skull?”

  “I don’t have it.” Truth. But apparently, neither did the SOB in front of him. Agent Cantrell had been right. Someone had gotten to the skull before the Tactical Crime Division had. Spitting the thick coating in his mouth into the snow, he set his head back against the tree. His head throbbed with his racing heartbeat. He tugged at the ropes around his wrists, but there wasn’t any give. “I can tell you one thing. The second I get out of these ropes, I’m going to kill you for taking my son.”

  Lightning exploded as the bastard’s fist connected with one side of his jaw. His eyes watered, blood filling his mouth as the trees, the outline of the man in front of him, everything blurred.

  “You know, Ana Sofia threatened me with the same end.” His attacker leaned in, the scent of new car smell and soap heavy in the air. “Right before I threw her through a window.”

  No. That wasn’t possible. Ana wasn’t dead. Couldn’t be. She was a federal agent. She’d been trained to fight, to protect the innocent. Nothing—not even the bastard in front of him or anything Benning had accused her of—could bring her down. Heat spread from behind his sternum as seconds ticked by, the muscles along his jaw protesting. Shaking his head, he let the tree bark bite into the wound from where he’d been knocked unconscious. She wasn’t dead. Because that meant... That meant he’d never get to tell her he hadn’t meant what he’d said. “You’re lying.”

  “Are you really w
illing to take that chance? Are you willing to bet your daughter’s life on it?” His attacker pressed cold steel against Benning’s face, and the muscles across his back tensed. “Because without Agent Ramirez protecting her, there’s nothing stopping me from doing to her what I plan to do to Owen once your twenty-four hours runs out.” The edge of the blade pierced through the thin skin at his cheek, a drop of blood trickling down from the cut. “The skull, Mr. Reeves. That’s all I want, and you and your kids can go back to your lives and forget I ever existed.”

  He wasn’t part of this world. He wasn’t trained in hand-to-hand combat, weapons or negotiation. He didn’t come into contact with killers on a daily basis like Ana and the rest of the Tactical Crime Division, but even Benning recognized the lie behind the promise. He forced his fingers to uncurl and plunged them into the snow behind the tree, out of sight. There had to be something—anything—he could use to cut himself free. He just needed more time. His finger brushed against a sharp edge of a rock. Not sharp enough to break skin, but he hoped like hell it would do the job. Setting the rock against what he thought was the thinnest section of rope, Benning worked to cut through the braided fibers as fast as he could. “Tell me whose body the FBI pulled from the fireplace on my property.”

  “Your new friends at TCD haven’t ID’d her yet?” He shook his head. “Pity what had to go down. It was nothing personal, but your nanny took her job a little too seriously, watching those kids.”

  Jo. Dread fisted in the pit of his stomach. “She didn’t have anything to do with this.”

  “You’re the one who brought her into this when you removed the skull from that site, Mr. Reeves. Not me. Her blood is on your hands. Just as Agent Ramirez’s, and just like it will be when I find your daughter.” His attacker straightened, the weight of those dark eyes pressurizing the air in his lungs. If this guy had beat Ana as he’d claimed, he’d been trained. There was no way Benning could compete with that, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Not with his daughter unprotected. Not with his son missing, and not with Ana injured—possibly dying—somewhere out here. “You’re stalling.”

  “Yes, I am.” Benning cut through the last of the ropes at his wrists and launched forward, taking the bastard by surprise. He aimed to return the hit to his jaw, but his attacker dodged the attack and used his own momentum to unbalance him and slammed another fist into his face. Benning stumbled backward, then shot out another punch, making contact. Bracing his feet apart, he lifted his hands into position as his head threatened to split down the middle. He caught the SOB’s wrist as the blade swung down toward him but left his midsection open. One hit. Another. The air crushed from his lungs as the man in the mask took advantage, and Benning had to release his hold on the knife in order to protect himself. The blade sliced down his arm, the sting drawing a gasp from between his teeth, but for a split second, the movement left his attacker open. He wrapped one forearm around the bastard’s neck and hauled him back off his feet. Only he hadn’t anticipated the elbow straight back into his gut. His grip loosened as pain exploded through his side, and he let the man in the mask free.

  The killer caught Benning’s wrist and twisted it behind him. His shoulder socket screamed right before a knee rocketed into Benning’s face.

  His vision went dark. He hit the ground, snow working under his shirt and into his boots. Every cell in his body begged him to stay down, to give up. It’d be easy, but this wasn’t how this would end. He wasn’t going to leave his kids’ lives in the hands of a killer. He wasn’t going to let Ana’s sacrifice be for nothing.

  “You don’t know when to give up, do you? But I’ll tell you the same thing I told Ana before I sent her to her death. You can’t beat me. I’ve lost once before, and I’m not about to let it happen again.” Movement registered above him, a shadow casting across his face. “Now, I’m going to give you one last chance to tell me where you hid the skull you took from the construction site before I lose my patience and put a bullet between your eyes, just as I did to him.”

  His breath sawed in and out of his lungs. Leveraging his palms into the snow, Benning struggled to his feet. His vision cleared. Exhaustion and pain tore through him, but he braced his legs wide. Ready to finish this once and for all. “I’m going to keep my word about killing you.”

  Benning kicked out, landing his boot heel center mass, then struck out with a right hook, followed by a left. Adrenaline dumped into his veins, throwing the pain and exhaustion into the back of his mind where it belonged. His knuckles met bone twice more before the bastard blocked his third attempt. The next fist made contact to the left side of his head, disorienting him. Benning stumbled back and slammed into the tree he’d been tied to seconds before. Sliding down the bark, he battled to stay upright as the man in the mask landed one hit after the other. His head twisted after each strike. He couldn’t block the punches. They were coming too fast. Too hard.

  “Leave my daddy alone!” The familiar voice sent panic through his system. Blood dripped from one eyebrow as his eye swelled shut, but Benning didn’t mistake Olivia’s small frame running as fast as her legs could carry her toward him.

  “Olivia...” The brutal attack from the man above him ceased as the bastard turned his attention on his daughter. Suddenly, the physical pain, the exhaustion, the haze closing in, it all disappeared. A growl tore from his throat. “No!”

  His son had already been taken from him. Ana had come back into his life only to be ripped away. The SOB wouldn’t take Olivia, too. Ever.

  His daughter swung the tree branch between both hands at his attacker as hard as she could, but her target stopped the attack before she could make contact. Ripping the makeshift weapon from her hands, the man in the mask advanced. Olivia tripped, landing on her rear, bright blue eyes widening in terror.

  “Stay the hell away from her.” Benning used everything he had left to get to his feet. The ground threatened to fall right out from under him, but he used the temporary rush of adrenaline to stay upright. “Your fight is with me.”

  “You’re right.” His attacker pivoted, keeping both Benning and Olivia in his peripheral vision on either side of him. One second. Two. In the blink of an eye, the shooter withdrew a gun from his low back and took aim at Benning. “It’s time to put an end to it.”

  He pulled the trigger.

  Olivia’s scream echoed in his head as Benning collapsed to his knees. “Daddy!”

  Chapter Seven

  The gunshot ripped her from unconsciousness in blinding fury.

  A gasp tore from her throat as the reality of what’d happened closed in, second by second. The intruder, the fight, the window. Ana tucked her chin to her chest, trying to sit up. A large piece of glass pierced straight through her thigh. A soft whimper escaped from between her lips as she tested the injury with one hand. Hijo de perra. She collapsed her head back into the snow, barely registering her stiff joints and muscles. How long had she been out here, unconscious? She searched the sky, the sun well behind the Smokeys. The only source of dim light came from the motion-detecting spotlights around the corner of the cabin, which ran off batteries instead of the main power or generator. But that gunshot had come from nearby. Tears burned in her eyes. “Damn it, Benning.”

  No. She swallowed the sob building in her throat. Emotions led to mistakes. Mistakes risked lives. She had to get up, had to find him, find Olivia. Given the fact she was conscious, the glass must not have cut through an artery, but she couldn’t take the chance of removing it without cutting off blood supply first—just in case. Okay. She had to use something as a tourniquet, then take care of the wound. Should be relatively easy. She’d been shot less than twenty-four hours ago, and it hadn’t stopped her from doing her job. A piece of window in her leg wouldn’t slow her down, either. She locked her back teeth in an effort to distract her from the pain. “Get up, Ramirez. You’re not finished.”

  Levera
ging her weight into her elbows, she searched her surroundings and caught sight of her SUV parked in the driveway along the other side of the cabin. There had to be something inside she could use. Rope, a bungee cord. Something. Thirty feet. She could make it thirty feet. Her exhales didn’t crystallize in front of her mouth, her body temperature dropping too fast, but she couldn’t worry about that right now. She had to make it. There were no other options. Not for Benning, and not for his family. She stretched one arm out above her head and slowly rolled onto her side, careful not to nudge the sharp tip of glass that’d cut straight through her. One hand pressing into the ground, she balanced with the other until she’d put nearly all of her weight into her uninjured leg and straightened. A wave of black washed over her vision, gravity doing everything in its power to bring her back to earth, and she had to force herself to breathe through the pain in her side. “Move, damn it.”

  One step. Then another. Blood slid down the inside of her pants. She only pushed herself harder. The faster her heart raced, the faster she’d bleed out, but she’d take that risk if it meant getting to Benning in time. She wasn’t going to deny the ache she’d had to live with since that night she’d slipped from his bed and disappeared. Throwing herself into her work hadn’t helped. Making herself numb to emotion or caring about the people around her—the people she saved—hadn’t helped. Nothing had. Until he’d kissed her.

  It’d been reckless and dangerous and wrong, but she hadn’t done anything to fight it. She’d laid out the rules in no uncertain terms when it came to what’d happened between them, but in that moment Benning had broken past the defenses she’d taken so long to build with a single sweep of his tongue past her lips. Just as he’d always been able to do. He’d stirred things inside her she hadn’t let herself feel in so long, and there’d been nothing she’d wanted more. In those few seconds she’d been stripped bare, left raw and exposed to the truth. That she... She’d been in love with him, too. She’d denied how she’d felt in the name of saving lives, when deep down the real reason had been festering all along.