“No.”
“Are you absolutely positive you never told them about my child?” Lara had to know.
Cass didn’t even blink.
“I was toying with you, Lara. Just you. I would never risk the baby’s life.” There was no waver in her voice. “I swear.”
In the moment, Lara believed she was telling the truth. She lowered the gun, attention already turning to the stairs. Cass disappeared.
The stairs opened to only one side and could be seen easily from where she stood, but she needed a clearer shot. Moving quickly she aimed down the stairs and to the left at the landing. The sounds from the first floor weren’t making any sense. Her team should have already been inside and on to Mason.
It sounded as if no one had breached the building yet.
No sooner than she’d had the thought, footsteps echoed toward the bottom stairs. Thankful her vision had adjusted to the minimal light, she readied to shoot to wound if possible.
Kill if necessary.
Mason started up the stairs, his back to her. Lara placed her finger on the trigger and was about to pull, aiming at his leg, when she made a startling discovery.
The man wasn’t Mason.
He turned to start up the stairs leading to her when she yelled, “Stop!”
The words following were supposed to pose a question along the lines of, “Who the hell are you?” when she spotted the gun in his hand.
“FBI. Stop or I’ll shoot,” she quickly yelled, taking a step forward, ready.
Even in the lack of light, she knew she didn’t recognize him. He was on the shorter side, squat and wore a baseball cap turned sideways. His clothes screamed “street,” and his expression screamed “aggression.”
“I said—” she started to repeat, but the man pulled the gun up toward her.
Lara didn’t hesitate. She shot him in the shoulder. He yelled out in pain and readjusted his aim. He must not have been mistaken about who was upstairs. He’d come up with purpose. His intent was clear. What curiosity she’d had about his origin disappeared.
She shot him in the chest, sending his body violently backwards. No sooner than he’d crumpled to the ground did another man jump out to take his place.
This time it was Mason, and it was his turn not to hesitate.
He got a shot off before Lara could pull back. Instead of the bullet hitting her body, it took her gun right out of her hands, sending it careening off into the dark side of the second floor.
Fuck!
She turned tail and booked it for the stairs. There was no time to dwell on the utter frustration of the more than empty great room and its equally disappointing lack of cover. Once again she was forced to retreat to higher ground, changing the playing field and hopefully restoring it to her advantage.
“Lara, why do you always seem to be running?” Mason yelled after she was already halfway up the stairs. If she hadn’t had a head start she was positive he would have easily tagged her. Whether or not shooting her gun out of her hand had been the result of precision shooting or either one hell of an accident, she didn’t want to leave her back to the man again. As she pounded up the stairs, wincing at the punch she’d taken to the face earlier, Lara couldn’t help but wonder again where the rest of the team was.
The third floor was drastically different from the two beneath it. The stairs were placed farther back in the building, leading up to a small open room that she wasn’t sure what it had been meant for originally. It opened directly into a hallway that led toward what she knew was a partially developed balcony overlooking the water. Even from where she stood the moonlight faintly lit up the industrial plastic tarp, sectioning off the hallway near its end. It was anchored down by warped wood and building debris.
A wild idea moved her feet in that direction.
She quickly went for the tarp and kicked the wood off of its bottom. Without it the material became slack. She was able to move it over and get to the other side, careful that she wasn’t stepping off into oblivion.
The balcony had been planned to be expansive, perhaps more so than the pier. It stretched outwards a few feet, but construction had obviously stopped before it was completed. Three metal beams jutted out over the last of the pier below, indeed unfinished. Lara had been hoping there was some way to drop down to the second floor and its completed yet vastly smaller patio, but the angles were all wrong. If she attempted it she chanced tumbling past it and on to the wood below. While the fall might not kill her, she’d more than likely be sporting a few broken bones and out in the open still without a weapon.
She turned back to the tarp, still hanging to block her view of the stairs. She flattened her back to the outer wall of the building, a few feet from the unfenced ledge.
And there she waited, holding her breath and trying her best to listen.
Mason didn’t take his time. Soon she heard the stomp of his feet as he moved up the stairs and onto the same floor. Her slight hope that he’d go the opposite direction of the construction was dashed as the noise got louder.
The wood, she thought with annoyance. She’d moved the pile to get around the tarp. Mason knew she’d gone this way.
As if he heard her thoughts, he called out. “Probably not the best place to hide, Lara. Now come out, so we can talk some more.”
Lara’s body tensed. So far she’d used some less-than-orthodox moves to stay ahead of him, so why not keep that streak alive?
She spun around and charged the tarp, bulldozing through it and slamming into something solid. No shots went off as Lara and Mason slammed to the floor, making her hope beyond a hope he’d lost the gun in the surprise.
“You bitch,” he yelled, lashing out through the tarp. Though it was between them, the knee he pushed up with force caught Lara’s hip and tossed her to the side.
She scrambled to her feet as he tore the blue plastic off. He punched out. She dodged, but the second fist hit her shoulder, spinning her into the wall of the hallway. As she sucked in a breath, her eyes landed on her potential savior, lying a few feet away where the hallway opened up into the small room.
Lara threw all of her body weight against him, moving him out of her way. She scrambled, full tilt, in the direction of the gun.
“I don’t think so,” Mason roared. He moved so fast that she had no time to move out of his reach. He grabbed a handful of her hair and slung her backwards. She hit the wall hard but managed to stay on her feet.
If she could just get the gun or, at least, keep it away from him long enough for her team to arrive, she’d be okay.
From among the clutter that lined the small room’s wall, he grabbed a three-legged, cracked wooden chair that had seen much better days.
Mason let out a low guttural sound. A rabid growl that expressed raw rage. Swinging the chair around in an almost perfect arc, he brought it down toward her with startling speed. Lara barely had time to lift her arm up to shield her face and turn into the blow. The impact of the wood against her side sent her body against the floor, right knee and palm the only things keeping her from flattening out. Pain exploded throughout her body, and the edges around her vision began to darken.
Mason shifted his weight, ready to attack while she was down. Lara knew she couldn’t afford another hit like that and hope to come out on the other side. Clinging desperately to consciousness she reached out and grabbed the closest thing to her.
It was a piece of the chair’s leg that had just splintered against her back.
Time to beat him with his own weapon.
Lara gripped the wood and, fighting through her new pain, spun upwards. She used the leg as a bat and swung with everything she had. The movement caught Mason off guard just enough so the wood connected with his cheek much like she’d done with the flashlight downstairs. He let out a howl of pain and staggered backwards.
Lara went for another blow but couldn’t find her feet. Slightly disoriented, she sucked in a breath and tried to move away from Mason and the pain, though neith
er seemed possible.
Come on Lara. You can do this.
Slower than she needed, she got her feet moving forward. However, Mason recovered faster. He came at her with both hands. They gripped her shoulders before slinging her back to the ground. All of the momentum she had had the entire span of their fighting seemed to glue her to the ground. Her adrenaline had drained. There were no second winds to be had.
“You know, this shit isn’t even worth it, in my opinion,” he said, moving back a few steps to look at her without being within her reach. He was breathing rapidly, heavily too. “You aren’t even worth all this hassle.” His head swiveled to the side and stopped. He took a step toward whatever he’d seen and bent to pick it up.
Lara’s stomach flat-out bottomed past the floor beneath her.
Now Mason had his gun back.
“You won’t get away,” she said, a last attempt to stall. “My team is downstairs, and that conversation we had? They heard it all. I came wired.”
In that moment a look of anger passed across his face, thinning his lips and slitting his eyes. In the next moment it was gone, replaced by a burst of laughter.
“I always get away, Lara. I’m untouchable,” he answered, pointing the gun down at her
He cocked the gun. The sound heralding in a series of terrifying truths Lara wished she could change.
She had been beaten.
Her team wasn’t coming.
Nick was dead.
She was about to die not knowing the truth about her mother’s murder or if her child would ever be safe from the maniac who was her father.
She was about to be killed by a carbon copy version of the only man she’d ever passionately loved and then passionately hated.
Mason Moretti trained the gun at her chest, right at her heart, and smiled.
Lara closed her eyes.
A shot rang through the air.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lara’s eyes flew open as the sound of a body hitting the floor. There was no new pain or proverbial darkness encroaching on her. Instead there was Mason Moretti on his side, motionless. The gun discarded by his overturned feet.
Confused, grateful and curious, Lara pried her eyes off of the man who had been about to kill her to the woman who had saved her.
Cass was holding a gun, still pointed at her target, hand shaking like a leaf. In the back of her mind Lara wondered if it was the first person the agent had ever shot that wasn’t paper. That question was all but answered when tears started to pour over her cheeks. Her breath came out in rising sobs.
“Did I kill him?” she said around her tears in a whisper. “Is he dead?”
Lara barrel-crawled toward the gun. She kicked it away from Mason’s open hand and winced. Pain burned her back, side and face. She was tired and sore. Not to mention emotionally drained from nearly accepting her death moments before.
If she’d had her way she would have fallen back on the grimy concrete floor of whatever the hell this part of the building was supposed to be and closed her eyes for a rest. However, she still had a job to do. Whatever—whoever—had slowed down their team was still a threat.
But first she had to see if Mason was still alive.
She reached out and put her fingers against his wrist. The skin was heated from their face-off. Lara might be bruised and hurt, but she was satisfied that she’d at least done equal damage. Though, as each small movement was sorely felt, she could without a doubt say the chair move had almost cost her her life.
If Cass hadn’t disobeyed her orders to stay put...
“He’s still alive,” she answered once the rhythmic beat pushed against her skin. A small pocket of relief expanded. They could use Mason now. They could finally put everything behind them.
Lara rocked on to her heels and stood on strength she believed had been granted by relief—mostly at being alive—alone. She turned to Cass.
Standing there, Cass was nearly sobbing while seconds before she’d almost killed a man to save the woman she’d worked so hard to mentally torture; Lara believed she understood what had happened.
Mason Moretti had gotten a hold of Katya and talked one hell of a good game to get her on his payroll and in his bed. He’d gotten the former trafficking victim to work on Agent McDonner, filling her head with stories about her poor trafficked sister while working in that her agent coworker Lara Grant had slept her way around. All while ignoring victims she could have been helping. Katya, per Moretti, had toyed with Cass. Capitalized on her pain and bitterness until she’d snapped and decided to, in turn, play games with Lara. She’d been manipulated by the anonymous brother while he waited for the perfect moment to make his move. When it was clear Lara was on to Cass and the game for her was over, Mason had decided to follow the agent and kill her. She was no longer needed.
Too bad for him that Cass hadn’t lost complete sight of what was and wasn’t good and bad.
“Victoria, if you can hear me,” Lara started, tilting her head down to make sure her wire got what she was saying, “Mason Moretti is alive but has been rendered unconscious, shot in the chest. We need EMTs.”
Cass, still holding the gun, didn’t look an ounce surprised. In fact, she gave a weak smile.
“I assumed you were wired,” she said, eyes sweeping over Lara’s chest. “It’s what I would have done. It’s a good thing he was so chatty. There should be enough there to p—”
“Coming up!”
Cass was cut off by the distant voice of none other than Victoria, probably a floor beneath them. It was followed by a more faint call of “Clear!” Lara felt her body instantly sag in another wave of relief.
“Scratch that,” Lara said. “We’ll stay right here then.”
Lara heard the scrape of movement behind her too late. Her feet flew out from under her, and she landed hard on her hip, crying out in pain while all the air seemed to leave her lungs. Cass gave her own little shriek of surprise as Lara rolled away, gasping, from where Mason’s body had been crumpled against the concrete flooring. He was no longer prone. Instead he was up and moving away from the two women with another dose of speed she hadn’t expected.
He was heading for the unfinished balcony.
Lara watched as his movement didn’t slow. He neared the edge and its beams and actually sped up.
“No,” Lara tried to yell.
But it was too late, Mason ran down a beam’s length and flung himself clear off. He disappeared into the darkness. A shot mere seconds after his body pitched downward whizzed past where he’d been. Cass had tried to stop him.
Lara struggled to stand, unsure of what on her body to cradle. Everything hurt. Everything throbbed. Everything physically a part of her warned of further activity. But that didn’t mean she’d listen.
The sound of a splash echoed up to them as Lara and Cass followed his footsteps to the edge and looked over. He’d cleared the pier.
“There! He’s there, you see?” Cass yelled, pointing to the man resurfacing.
I always get away, Lara.
I’m untouchable.
Adrenaline flooded Lara’s veins. Her second wind came back with a vengeance. Despite all of the pain she was currently in, not to mention the danger, Lara ran back a few feet, stripping off her jacket as she went.
Cass turned, brows pulling together.
Lara tugged her arm holster off and tossed her cell phone on top. Next she ripped open her shirt and pulled the wire off of her skin. It stung but not as much as what was about to happen. She let her torn shirt hit the ground and, standing in her bra and jeans, fixed Cass with a stare that matched the undoubtedly cold water below.
“No one is untouchable.”
Then Lara followed Mason’s path right off of the balcony and down into the dark.
* * *
Nick’s head was throbbing.
It pounded, kicked and made him envious of his previous hangovers.
He opened his eyes slowly, starting in a squint and then widening when he tru
sted himself not to be sick. The memory of what had happened before he’d been forced to take a nap on the job trickled in just as the light from the lamp at the end of the pier lit the wood beneath his cheek.
Their evil twin cowboy had made quite the appearance.
“Get on your knees and if you make one wrong move I’ll not only shoot you, but I’ll take out Agent Grant before anyone will ever realize you’re dead.”
Nick pushed himself up much faster than he probably should have. The world around him spun, detached into two copies of itself and then reformed. It made him dizzy for a long moment.
Definitely worse than his last hangover.
A shot in the distance drew his attention away from his head. He turned toward Pier 17 and saw a flash just as another shot went off.
What the hell was going on?
He reached for his gun beneath his jacket and froze. It was gone. Nick did a 360-turn, searching for his piece. Nothing but the crushed earpiece and a splatter of blood—which he assumed was his—were around. Another shot fired in the distance. Nick recalled the splash his pistol had made hitting the water right before he’d lost consciousness.
He slipped his hand in his jacket and pulled out a small knife. It was his just-in-case weapon, and this night had definitely turned into a just-in-case situation.
Where was Mason? Where was Cass? Where was Victoria or Xander or Ty?
And where the hell was Lara?
“You’d fallen in love with Moretti.”
“You’d had sex with Moretti.”
“Then you were pregnant with his child.”
Nick’s mind tried to stick to each point—to dissect what each meant, to replay every conversation he’d had with his partner, adding in the new information—but knew it wasn’t the time. If something happened to Lara now, wouldn’t it all be a moot point anyways?
With knife in hand, Nick started to make his way as quickly and quietly as he could down the pier. Pedestrians had clumped across the street, eyes roaming over the expanse around him all trying to pinpoint what was going on. Victoria and Xander were nowhere to be seen. He was closing in on the mouth of the dock when a different sound radiated toward him. He backtracked a few feet and peered toward Pier 17, but this time changing his gaze to the water.
Tough Justice Box Set Page 58
