Undercover Rebel (The Mighty McKenzies Book 4)

by LENA DIAZ,

  He crouched and carefully parted some bushes. Sure enough, a yellow Hummer sat boldly in the parking lot, right in front of the warehouse. He crept backward, then took off through the trees again, giving the parking lot and its cameras a wide berth.

  “Ian, give me a call when you get there so we can coordinate our entry.”

  “I’m already here. Wolverine’s Hummer is here too. I can’t wait for backup.” He ended the call and turned off the phone in case his brother called back. He didn’t want the sound to give away his position. Then he leaped over the last ditch and ran to the back door of the building, picklock set in hand.

  * * *

  SHANNON STIFFENED AS Wolverine traced the knife across her throat, then used it to flick the ends of her hair.

  “Blue tips.” He snickered. “I suppose you consider yourself a rebel. A badass.”

  She strained against the zip ties that bound her to the folding chair in the middle of the room. “Cut me loose and find out. Just you and me. One-on-one.”

  He grinned and continued to circle the chair, running his knife across her hair, her shoulders, her legs, before stopping in front of her. “One-on-one time is what we’re having right now. Aren’t you enjoying it?” He leaned in closer. “I know your boyfriend will.” He laughed and pointed toward the camera on the ceiling above her. “I want him to agonize over every...little...slice.” He flicked the knife across her bare knees to emphasize each word, drawing more blood as he added to the dozens of cuts he’d already made.

  Shannon sucked in a breath at the burning pain, biting her lip to keep from screaming. She knew that was what he wanted. And she wasn’t about to give in. He wanted to send the video to Ian, her final moments. She prayed he’d never see it. But just in case he did, she wanted to make sure it was quick. She’d been baiting Wolverine since he’d enclosed her in this room and sent his men off to guard the warehouse. But no matter what she said, she couldn’t seem to rattle him and make him just kill her and end his sick game.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. He frowned and pulled it out, studied the screen. Then he made a call. “Jack, Hulk, one of the sensors picked up something in the woods. Form a welcoming committee outside in the tree line. Blade, back hallway, southwest corridor. Keep an eye out. I think McKenzie might already be in the building. Remember, hurt him. But don’t kill him.”

  Shannon made a choking sound in her throat.

  He smiled, enjoying her fear. “Looks like I underestimated your boyfriend.” He shoved the phone in his pocket. “He doesn’t stand a chance against Blade.” He grinned. “I really do love that name.”

  “Leave Ian alone,” she gritted out between clenched teeth.

  “Now, now. Don’t look so worried. Blade knows that I want your lover to see the video before he dies. He’ll just soften him up, get him ready. But he won’t kill him. I get to do that. After he sees the video.” He cocked his head. “Or should we do a live show for him? Draw him out in the open to make Blade’s job easier? Then he can watch in real time as I carve you up.” He drew back the knife and plunged it into her thigh.

  * * *

  A BLOOD-CURDLING SCREAM echoed in the warehouse. Shannon. The picklock kit fell from Ian’s hands to the floor. The metal wands pinged across the concrete. He took off running through the maze of dark hallways toward the main part of the warehouse.

  A light shone through a rectangular window in a door at the end of a hall. Ian ran to it. He could see the open part of the warehouse on the other side, all lit up, empty. And the only other rooms where Shannon could be were on the opposite side. Grasping his pistol in his left hand, he threw back the door and charged through the opening.

  A flash of movement to his left had him whirling around. Something hard and solid came crashing down on his arm, sending his pistol clattering across the concrete floor and knocking Ian to the ground. He rolled over to face the threat. Blade. He glared down at Ian, a two-foot length of iron pipe in his right hand. He tapped it against his open palm and slowly approached.

  Ian jerked his head back, searching for the pistol. Six feet away.

  Blade roared and brought the pipe down in a lethal arc toward Ian’s head.

  Ian slammed his shoe against the other man’s knee and dove to the side. Blade screamed with pain and rage as he crashed to the floor, but he still managed to swing the pipe toward Ian. He jerked out of the way, the whistle of the pipe just inches from his ear. It banged against the floor, showering both men in stinging flecks of chipped concrete.

  Blade staggered to his feet and raised the pipe again.

  On the other side of the warehouse, a pale face peered out through another glass cutout in one of the doors. Wolverine.

  Blade roared.

  Ian dove for his gun. The pipe slammed against his side. White-hot pain incinerated the breath in his lungs. Black spots swam before his eyes. His fingers cramped around the gun but he held on, fighting through the blinding pain to flop onto his back. He blinked furiously, trying to focus. Blade towered over him, lifting the pipe above his head. Ian twisted the pistol up toward him and squeezed the trigger. Bam! Bam! Bam!

  The pipe dropped from Blade’s hand. He stared in disbelief at Ian. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the floor.

  Ian struggled to draw air into his lungs as he fought through the haze of pain in his ribs. He looked across the warehouse toward the door. Wolverine jerked back from the glass.

  A gunshot echoed outside. Two more followed in quick succession.

  Another scream filled the warehouse.

  Ian staggered to his feet and then took off in a pained crouch toward the door where he’d seen Wolverine.

  * * *

  “CHANGE OF PLANS,” Wolverine snarled to Shannon. “Your boyfriend is here. You die now.” He raised the knife above his head.

  Ian was here? Shannon no longer wanted to die. She wanted, needed, to live, to keep this creep occupied to give Ian a better chance at survival.

  The knife came down in a deadly arc.

  She threw all her weight to the side, turning the chair over and crashing to the floor, the metal frame banging against the concrete.

  Wolverine fell to the floor beside her, swearing as the knife clattered across the room and bounced against the far wall. Blood smeared his wrist where the knife had cut him as he fell. He glared at her, his face contorted with rage. “You’ll pay for that.”

  A loud thump sounded against the door. “Shannon!” The doorknob rattled, but it was locked from the inside.

  Shannon twisted around to see Ian banging his fist on the glass. “Ian!” She furiously strained against the plastic straps tying her to the chair. She had to let him inside or she’d die in here. She didn’t want his last glimpse of her to be Wolverine stabbing her to death.

  Wolverine swore and shoved to his feet. He ran across the room where the knife lay on the floor. Shannon rocked her body, scooting the chair toward the door as she struggled to pull her arms free.

  “Cover your eyes!” Ian yelled.

  She turned her head away from the door and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Something slammed against the glass. It shattered, raining down onto the floor like pennies hitting a metal roof.

  Wolverine twisted around on his knees, knife in hand.

  Shannon looked back over her shoulder.

  A shadow loomed behind Ian.

  “Look out!” Shannon warned.

  He jerked away from the small opening in the top of the door where the glass window had been. She couldn’t see him. The sounds of grunting and bodies slamming against the door told of the violent struggle on the other side. She desperately shimmied and scooted, moving closer to the door.

  Another shot echoed outside. Seconds later loud banging sounded from somewhere in the warehouse. Someone else was here. Please let it be the police. Her silent pl
ea startled her, and she would have laughed if she weren’t so terrified. Who would have thought she’d ever hope for the police to come help her?

  Wolverine shouted his frustration and scrambled to his feet, holding the knife out in front of him.

  Another loud thump sounded from outside. The door rattled in its frame.

  Wolverine let out a terrifying war cry and ran toward Shannon.

  The door burst open and slammed against the wall, an iron bar bouncing across the floor. Ian stumbled inside, a pistol clutched in his hand. He swung it toward Wolverine.

  Bam!

  Wolverine’s body jerked, then fell to the floor, his knife skittering over to land right in front of Shannon. His body went limp and his eyes closed. Blood began to seep out from underneath him.

  “Shannon, oh my God. Shannon. How badly are you hurt?” Ian dropped to his knees beside her, setting down his pistol so he could run his hands frantically across the cuts on her arms and legs, smearing the blood as he tried to see how bad her injuries were.

  “I’m okay.” She grimaced when his hand touched the deep stab wound on her thigh.

  Ian swore and took off his leather coat, wincing and moving awkwardly.

  “You’re hurt,” she said. “Did you get shot?”

  “I got hit by a truck.”

  “Oh, no, Ian!”

  “Kidding. It just felt that way.” He gently wrapped the coat around her thigh and tried to tie the sleeves together.

  She gasped at the white-hot pain that shot through her leg.

  He shot her a sympathetic look. “Sorry. Trying to stop the bleeding, but this stupid leather is too bulky.” He looked around, then unbuckled his belt and wrapped it around her thigh, looping the ends together before stopping. “This is going to hurt. Bad. But it has to be done.”

  “I know. It’s okay. Do it.” She turned her face away, bracing herself. He jerked the belt tight. Blazing hot pain radiated up her body. She gulped in deep breaths, trying not to cry. But she couldn’t help the whimper that escaped.

  “All done,” he told her, his voice hoarse. “Let me get those zip ties.” He grabbed the knife and moved behind her.

  The sounds of footsteps had both of them looking through the open doorway. Ian’s brothers were running through the warehouse toward them.

  Ian snorted. “The cavalry’s here. A little late, but they still get points. I think they ran into Jack outside. He must have been tougher than he looked.” He cut through the ties on Shannon’s legs and moved to her hands.

  She smiled up at him. A whisper of noise from the other side of the room had her jerking her head to the side.

  Wolverine was staring at her, a mad light in his eyes as he brought up a pistol she hadn’t even realized he had.

  Ian dove over Shannon’s body, throwing the knife like a javelin toward Wolverine.

  Bam! Bam!

  Wolverine dropped the gun and clawed at the hilt protruding from his neck.

  Ian’s brothers raced into the room, pistols out as they scanned for danger.

  “Ian?” Shannon nudged him with her good leg. “Ian?” He lay on top of her, unmoving. “Ian!”

  Adam ran to Wolverine’s body and kicked his gun out of reach, then dropped to his knees to check his pulse.

  Colin and Duncan raced to Ian and rolled him over.

  Shannon gasped in horror at the bullet hole in his shirt. “Ian, damn you! When you said you’d jump in front of a bullet for me, I never actually wanted you to do it.”

  He groaned. His eyes fluttered open.

  Hot tears ran down Shannon’s face. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Ian?”

  “Ouuucch.” He grimaced. “I don’t know what hurts worse. Where Wolverine shot me or where Blade slammed an iron pipe against my ribs.”

  The two brothers exchanged a glance. Then Colin pulled out a pocketknife and moved behind Shannon.

  “Ian’s been shot?” Adam rushed over to them, his phone to his ear. “I’ve got an ambulance and police on the way. Wolverine won’t be hurting anyone else. He’s gone.” He got down on his knees beside his brother.

  Shannon willed Ian to look at her, but he stared straight up at the ceiling. “Ian, talk to me. Say something.”

  “What’s that crackling sound every time I breathe?”

  “I think it’s your ribs.” Duncan grasped Ian’s shirt and ripped it open. “God bless whoever invented bullet-resistant vests.”

  The plastic ties around Shannon’s wrists fell away, and Colin moved to check on Ian. Shannon reached for him, but Duncan stopped her and gently pushed her down on her back. “Sorry, lass. You’re bleeding from a couple dozen different places. We need to get the bleeding under control.”

  “How bad are her wounds?” Ian’s voice sounded oddly weak.

  “Bad enough. How far out is that ambulance, Adam?”

  Shannon blinked up at Duncan. He was pressing against her wounds, but she couldn’t feel anything. Except...cold, so very, very cold.

  “ETA ten minutes.” Adam leaned over Shannon, his brow furrowed with concern. “Don’t worry. The ambulance will be here soon.”

  “Guys,” Colin called out, sounding worried. “I don’t think all the blood on the floor is from Shannon.”

  Adam leaned over Ian, running his hands up and down his shirt. He froze, then met Colin’s gaze. “One of the bullets missed the vest. It went in through the arm opening.”

  “Ian?” Shannon called out, except it sounded fuzzy to her ears. “Ian?”

  Adam swore. “We’re losing both of them. Duncan, keep pressure on her wounds. Colin, call 911 again. Tell them we need a medevac chopper out here.”

  While Adam stripped off his coat and then balled up his shirt to stanch the bleeding, Shannon stretched her fingers toward Ian. She entwined them with his and squeezed.

  He didn’t squeeze back.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Shannon leaned back on her crutches beside one of the massive outdoor heaters, doing her best to blend into the background of the massive tent. The McKenzies were across the way in a receiving line, shaking hands with the last of their wedding guests as they said their goodbyes. Ian glanced at her, looking more handsome than ever in his black tuxedo, even sitting in a wheelchair.

  She’d teased him about dyeing his hair back to its natural black color, telling him he might have to turn over his rebel card. He’d insisted that he’d only done it so that he’d match the tuxedo better. Just like she’d chosen to wear a blue dress to match the blue tips of her hair. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was developing a sense of humor, much like his brother Duncan.

  Since the shooting a little over two weeks ago, Ian had definitely been smiling more than she was used to seeing. He seemed happier, less tense. And she didn’t think that it was because the case he’d been working on was wrapped up. It was all about being reunited with his family, especially his father. They had a long way to go to heal years of hurts between them. But they were well on their way.

  He winked and turned back to shake the hand of some senator or representative, or maybe it was a judge. She’d lost track of all the dignitaries who had attended the double-wedding ceremony of Colin to Peyton and Duncan to Remi. The Christmas weddings had been amazing, taking place in the building a few feet away from the tent. The family called it a barn, even though it had never been used to house any animals.

  The barn’s interior was rustic, but homey, filled to bursting with strands of white party lights and red poinsettias to go along with the holiday-themed occasion. Everything had been perfect, especially Ian’s family. They’d been so kind and welcoming, as if she was one of them.

  She and Ian had both been staying at his parents’ cabin, although in separate bedrooms, while they recovered from their injuries. A home-care nurse stopped by daily to check on both of them, but mainly she w
as there for Ian. Wolverine’s bullet had tumbled around inside his chest and done enormous damage. And Blade had shattered two of Ian’s ribs. It would take a long time for him to heal.

  Shannon’s injuries had been far less severe. The blood loss had nearly killed her, and she’d needed surgery to repair the lacerated muscles in her thigh. But all of her other cuts had been paltry compared to what Ian had suffered. Tomorrow morning, she was returning to the duplex.

  Ian had insisted she could stay with him at his parents’ home as long as she wanted. She’d given him some lame excuse about being homesick. In reality her savings were pretty much wiped out, and she desperately needed to get another job. She couldn’t afford to stay here any longer, even though she would have loved to continue to be by Ian’s side. Thankfully, a victim’s fund had covered her medical bills or she would have had those hanging over her head too.

  Now that the guests were gone, the McKenzies surprised Shannon by returning to the barn instead of going up to the family’s cabin.

  Ian maneuvered his motorized wheelchair until he was directly in front of Shannon.

  “Hey, pretty lady,” he teased. “Did you have fun tonight?”

  “You know I did, handsome man. I only hyperventilated twice, when the police chief shook my hand and when your boss stopped to chat with me.”

  “You’ll get over your law enforcement phobia yet.”

  She smiled. “Some of them aren’t that bad.” She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek.

  He grinned. “Whatever I did to deserve that, tell me so I can do it again.”

  “Your boss said you’d donated the use of your cabin as a temporary halfway house for the human trafficking victims. You’re an amazing man, Ian McKenzie.”

  He shrugged, looking uncomfortable with her praise. “Yeah, well. It sits there empty most of the time. Might as well serve some kind of purpose. Besides, once I met your Maria, and found out she was actually Willow Rivera, I had to do something to help her get a new start in life. I’d already failed her all those years ago. I’m just glad her stepfather lied and she was still alive. Had I known, I would have—”