From Evil: Books 4-6

by Pam Godwin

  “Then he’s definitely banging her.”

  “You know, you weren’t always such an insensitive dick.” Cole lowered his arms to his sides, and the hard lines of his face smoothed away. “I’m sorry about Semira and your family. Had I known what was happening, I swear, Tiago, I would’ve warned you. I would’ve done something to stop it.”

  Her throat tightened, and she grabbed Tiago’s hand. God, they really did know each other. No wonder Cole had located Lucia so easily. Tate would shit himself if he knew about this crazy connection.

  “The job came with risks.” Tiago said softly. “They told us no attachments. No spouses. No weaknesses. We knew that going in, and we walked away losing everything that mattered to us.”

  “You were both betrayed?” Her mind churned to fit the pieces together. “It sounds like you were the good guys, fighting on the right side, and that side fucked you over. Is that what happened? You lost a fiancée, a wife, and a family because people you trusted turned on you?”

  “Something like that.” Cole stared at Tiago.

  “Explain it to me,” she said.

  “There was a defection in our ranks.” Tiago flexed his hand around hers. “Two of our colleagues—a man and a woman—defected from the agency and leaked our personal information to known enemies who were willing to pay a small fortune for it. The female traitor threatened Cole’s fiancée, but his best friend protected her.”

  Did the best friend fuck her before or after he protected her? Maybe there was more to the story, but holy crap… Poor Cole.

  “The other defector was responsible for the deaths of my family.” Tiago’s voice scratched, and he cleared it. “He sold classified information about me to an enemy, fully aware it would turn my home into a bloodbath. It wasn’t personal. He just wanted the money.”

  “That’s why you both switched sides.”

  Cole straightened. “I didn’t—”

  “I know for a fact you did a job for Van Quiso.” She glared. “Which side do you think he’s on?”

  “Given your friendship with the capo of the Restrepo cartel,” Tiago said, “it’s safe to assume you’re no longer working for the American people.”

  “Right.” Cole blew out a breath. “Sometimes I work for criminals and walk a blurry line. But I don’t murder or kidnap innocent people for money. And when I was betrayed, I didn’t go on a ruthless killing spree. I faked my own death, went into hiding, and lost my goddamn soul mate.”

  “Good for you.” Tiago laughed hollowly. “I guess that makes you a better man than me.”

  “No.” Her hackles flared, and she grabbed Tiago’s arm, turning him toward her. “I’ve never condoned the things you’ve done, but you know what? Cole didn’t lose his parents and only brother. He didn’t watch someone heartlessly gut his wife. There is no comparison. I don’t know him that well, but if someone murdered his fiancée in front of him…” She jabbed a finger at Cole. “I think there would be a very different man standing there.”

  “You’re defending him?” Cole asked with more hostility than she appreciated. “Do you know what he did to Tate and Lucia?”

  “Yes.” She jutted her chin.

  “Are you free?”

  “What?”

  “Are you free to walk away from him? Right now?”

  A numb, paralyzing thud echoed in her ears, and her neck ached to shake her head. Now was the time to tell him, to let him know she couldn’t escape.

  Tiago would never release her. He would never let her see her friends, or pursue a career, or carry a loaded gun, or go for a walk alone. Cole needed to know this. He could help her. But her muscles wouldn’t work, and her voice deserted her.

  “She’s not free.” Tiago’s fingers shackled her wrist as he shoved open the freezer door. “If she wants to go with you, I won’t allow it. If you try to take her—”

  “You’ll kill me. I figured as much.” Cole flicked his gaze to her. “This isn’t over, Kate. I’ll get you out.”

  “The fuck you will.” Tiago ushered her out of the freezer, into the warm kitchen, and toward the hallway, where Arturo waited.

  “Hang on.” She dug in her heels, trying to slow his long strides so she could explain the situation to Cole. “I just need to—”

  An enormous explosion erupted somewhere in the house. The percussion was so forceful it reverberated in her ribcage and rang in her ears. She lost her balance in the heels, and in the next breath, strong arms came around her and her feet left the floor.

  Tiago hoisted her against his chest and swung back toward Cole. “Tell me that isn’t an assassination attempt on the President.”

  “With that bomb? It must be.” Cole raced past them and poked his head in the corridor. “It probably dropped from overhead.”

  “Drones.” Tiago’s entire body turned to stone. “Goddammit, there will be more. We need to get the fuck out of here.”

  She choked down the sound of undiluted fear as it tried to escape.

  A cloud of dust shook from the ceiling. Alarms, shrill and deafening, blared to life, and in the distance, the blast of gunfire rent the air.

  “Opposition activists.” Cole shoved a hand through his brown hair. “I heard a rumor the Colombian president was rallying an attack.”

  “And we’re caught in the middle of it?” Her heart lurched.

  “Gonna need you to run, Kate.” Tiago lowered her feet to the floor. “Kick off your shoes.”

  He supported her balance as she toed off each heel. Then he guided her arms into the sleeves of the jacket still draped over her shoulders.

  At her questioning look, he said, “In case there’s any flying debris, the jacket is better than nothing.”

  “The rear exit is blocked by the gunfight.” Arturo appeared in the doorway. “We’ll have to leave out the front with everyone else.”

  “Mass fucking exodus.” Tiago pulled her into the hall and laced their fingers together. “No matter what, don’t let go.”

  The flashing, screeching alarms in the ceiling fucked with her bearings. By the time she scrounged up a nod, he was already dragging her at full speed toward the ballroom.

  Cole and Arturo stayed on their heels. Until the second bomb hit.

  It detonated so close it threw her against the wall. The acrid scent of smoke burned her nose, and she tasted the grit of dust as she coughed.

  Given the noise of glass, the ear-splitting howls of people, and the rush of nearby footsteps, the explosion must’ve blown through the ballroom. If her sense of direction could be trusted, that was just around the next bend.

  “Keep moving.” Tiago hadn’t let go of her hand and pulled on it roughly, urgently, propelling her forward again.

  Her pulse thrashed past her ears as she sprinted to keep pace with his strides. Around the corner and through a doorway, they burst into what was left of the ballroom.

  Dirt and smoke scattered into the atmosphere, creating a nebulous, eye-burning fog. Windows shattered. Shards of glass and twisted steel continued to drop in a groaning, deadly rainfall from the huge bite that had been taken out of the far side of the room.

  Furniture tipped upside down, legs in the air. Debris and breakage covered the dance floor, the musicians gone. And the partygoers…

  Some lay on the floor in fetal positions, trying to protect their ears and organs. Most ran toward the exit. Others stood off to the side, shell-shocked and unmoving. The rest had been tossed amid the blast, at least a dozen dead.

  Tiago spun toward her and gripped her shoulders, shouting with his eyes. His mouth barked commands, but she couldn’t hear him over the deafening noise.

  He surveyed the glass-covered floor, glanced at her feet, and scooped her up into his arms. It was a considerable distance to carry her over the wreckage from one end of the demolished ballroom to the other, but gratitude overrode her stubbornness.

  Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she pressed her face into his neck and held on.

  She assumed Artu
ro and Cole followed behind, but she was afraid to look. A barrage of closely spaced gunshots broke out around them, firing close enough to damage her eardrums.

  The President’s opposition might’ve been here to assassinate him, but if they were willing to bomb a house full of people, they didn’t care who they hit in the crossfire.

  Tiago tucked her close to his body, bowing over her with his head ducked as he ran like hell.

  She wished she had a gun, so she could shoot back. She wished they’d stayed in bed and skipped the fucking party. But wishes wouldn’t help them. They needed a fucking miracle.

  The din of the surrounding chaos redlined her heart rate. The blaring alarms, panicked screams, and approaching gunfire pounded from every direction. She lifted her head.

  Twenty feet from the exit. Almost there.

  As every nerve ending in her body stretched toward that door, a great thunderous clap blew apart the world.

  One second, she was in Tiago’s arms beneath a vaulted ceiling. The next, she was airborne under the open nighttime sky.

  Then everything went black.

  CHAPTER 31

  Kate floated in a painless state of silence and disorientation. Every few seconds, a series of flashes burst through, like the intermittent vibrations of a dying heartbeat.

  She couldn’t hear anything. Not her cries or her breath. Was her head detached from her body? Or her limbs? That didn’t make sense. But why couldn’t she move?

  “Tiago.” His name chanted from her mind, but she wasn’t sure her voice touched the air.

  The floor shook violently beneath her. More explosions, farther away. Alarms strobed, but the wailing didn’t penetrate her ears. People stumbled and ran, but she couldn’t hear their screams.

  As she attempted to recover her senses, a blanket of hellish heat saturated the front of her body. Blinking through semi-blindness, she stared up at a pillar of fiery smoke and dust. It rushed out through sections of the roof that had been destroyed by the blast.

  Blackened orange flames billowed from the rubble near the exit, baking the startled air. A pressurized wind swept through the room, pulling on her, as if trying to draw her into the fire.

  “Tiago!” She struggled to turn her neck and found herself lying by a wall some distance from where he’d been carrying her.

  Panic tortured her heart, and her muscles refused to respond. It was so dark, so confusing. Why couldn’t she see him? Or feel his hands on her? He would never leave her behind.

  The blackness shuddered with jarring flickers of light. Bullets ricocheted, kicking up dirt across the floor. She tried to sit, until she felt the reverberation of approaching feet.

  She held still, her stomach clenching as a dozen black-clad men with guns ran past her, their boots stepping close enough to bounce the broken pieces of wood beneath her.

  Her hearing detected fragmented sound within her body, like the whooshing of blood and crackling static. Was she hurt? She couldn’t sense pain or time, and her brain didn’t seem to be working right.

  Consciousness shriveled to a pinprick of light, and she strained for it, desperate to stay alert.

  After a while, something touched her. Frantic hands, shaking her shoulders and rousing her awake.

  Oh God, she’d passed out? For how long?

  She opened her eyes, her mouth, struggling to identify the face hovering over her.

  Brown hair, blue bow tie, American features—none of the details she ached to see.

  Cole Hartman jostled her limp body, his lips moving without sound.

  “Where’s Tiago?” She braced a hand against the splintered debris beneath her and pushed up. “Where is he?”

  Her head pounded something fierce, and sporadic noises filtered in, making the pain unbearably worse.

  She must not have been unconscious for very long, because the same chaotic level of disorder raged around her—the fire, the gunfight, the exodus of terrified people.

  Tiago was nowhere in sight.

  They were on an island. Did that mean there wouldn’t be fire crews or ambulances? Where the hell was the mob of people running to? Where would they go?

  Away from the fire and spraying bullets.

  As Cole tried to speak to her, she focused on reading his lips.

  Can you stand?

  Are you hurt?

  We need to go.

  She wasn’t going anywhere without Tiago.

  Shoving off the floor with trembling muscles, she staggered to her feet and scanned the darkness. “Have you seen him?”

  A rush of adrenaline accelerated her pulse, shaking away the crippling shock that had pinned her to the floor during those long, wasted minutes.

  Cole’s arms wrapped around her, lifting her off the floor and forcing her with him. She pushed against his chest, trying to get down, to stand on her own.

  He tightened his hold and took her away from the rubble where Tiago must’ve been buried.

  “Nooooo!” She screamed in horror, frantically searching the destruction for his body. “I’m not leaving without him!”

  Cole didn’t slow as he veered around crumbled piles of masonry, wood, and steel. With each step, her hearing returned. As did her determination.

  “Go back!” She thrashed in his unbending arms. “Take me back!”

  A shooter sprinted past, sweating the room with bullets. Cole took cover, dodging the gunfire while fighting down her flailing hands. Then he burst into a sprint, carrying her through a demolished doorway and into a thick haze of smoke.

  “Tiago!” She choked through the suffocating smog and realized the blackness overhead was the sky.

  He’d taken her outside and wasn’t stopping. His legs ate up the ground, hauling her farther and farther away from the burning mansion.

  No, no no!

  A sob opened her throat, and a flood of wailing screams fell out.

  “Can’t leave him! Put me down. I have to go back!” She couldn’t stop crying. Couldn’t see through her blinding panic and tears.

  She howled and writhed until his hand clapped over her mouth and his furious eyes came into view.

  “You’re going to get us killed,” he whispered harshly. “Shut the fuck up.”

  She shoved his hand away. “But Tiago—”

  “He’s dead or missing.” He ran down an embankment and jumped onto a small deserted dock. “If you run back there, you’ll be dead, too.”

  He dumped her in a waiting speedboat. Before she had a chance to scramble out, he slipped the tether free, fired up the engine, and shot into the black expanse of the ocean.

  The sudden momentum knocked her into one of the vinyl seats. She twisted toward the rear, gripping the headrest as the island drifted away.

  Rags of fire whipped along the skyline and wafted plumes of smoke above it, making the darkness even darker. The boat crashed against the waves, and as the distance stretched, reality clawed its way in.

  Tiago was in that inferno, and she’d left him there.

  Grief consumed her, wracking her body with violent, shuddering sobs. She’d abandoned him, something he would’ve never, ever done to her. He would’ve launched himself onto an exploding bomb before he let someone drag him away without her.

  Because he loved her.

  Not once had she said those words back to him, and the thought only made her more miserable. Guilt lashed in her stomach. Defeat bunched her shoulders around her ears. Despondency pounded in her head, and emptiness carved out her chest. She was utterly wretched and inconsolable.

  Cole must’ve thought she’d completely lost her mind. She didn’t know how to explain her feelings, but she had about thirty minutes to figure it out before he stopped the boat.

  He killed the motor, and waves lapped around them. The ocean bled into darkness. Nothing to see or hear for miles.

  After checking something on his phone, he turned his angry gaze to her.

  “I don’t extract unwilling people.” He rose from the driver’s seat and a
pproached her in the rear of the boat. “Tell me I didn’t make a mistake.”

  “You made a mistake.” She was numb. Depleted. Heartsick. “Turn the boat around. Take me back.”

  “You want to go back to the man who poisoned Lucia for eleven years, mutilated Tate’s back, shackled him in a shack for three months, and held you against your will?” He crouched beside her and softened his tone. “Did he rape you?”

  An ugly mass of emotion swelled in her throat, and she looked away.

  “You care about him.” A sigh billowed past his lips. “It’s okay, Kate. You have Stockholm syndrome. I see it all time in these situations and—”

  “What if it’s not that? What if my feelings are real? And I just…” Another sob rose up. “I just left him there to die.”

  “He received the same military training I did. If he’s alive, he’ll get out.” His brows knitted together, and he glanced down at her thigh, where her scars peeked through the slit in the gown.

  He spent the next few seconds examining her for injuries. Cuts and bruises marred her body. Her ankle was sprained, and he claimed she had a concussion.

  She felt none of it. Nothing but emptiness.

  “You’ve been through a lot. You need safety and friends and time to heal.” He checked his phone and returned it to his pocket. “Your ride will be here any minute.”

  “What ride? Who’s coming?”

  “People who care about you.” He removed a small device from another pocket. “I need to do a sweep for transmitters. Did Tiago put anything on your body? Like a small chip under your skin or maybe a piece of jewelry?”

  “You mean a GPS chip?”

  “Yes. You can’t go to the Restrepo estate until we’re certain you’re not being tracked. The location is a highly guarded secret.”

  Her heart slammed as a fresh wave of sorrow washed over her. Tiago would’ve absolutely chipped her, and she knew exactly how. She didn’t even care if he meant to track her. In fact, she loved that about him.

  She loved his possessiveness.

  She loved his bossy mouth, his sexy Spanish accent, his cruel eyes, and his addictive masculine taste when he kissed her. She loved everything about him, and so what if that made her a head case?