by AJ Nuest
His brows shot up his forehead the same distance his jaw fell.
Sweet Christ in Heaven.
Love, so intense it trumped his anger, swamped his chest, and he took off at a dead sprint down the hall.
* * * *
Slow. Slow, slow, slow or this would never work.
Foot flexed, Charlie hooked her numb toes on one of the construction light’s three metal legs and tugged the base closer to the wall.
Top-heavy, the light wobbled over the uneven floor, and she quickly braced the bottom with her foot while praying she had enough pressure to steady the damn thing without tipping it over.
Adjusting her back against the damp concrete, she bent her other knee and propped her heel by her ass to increase the leverage. Icy trickles pooled along the top of her shoulders. Another careful tug and the light inched closer with a slight screech.
Her heart crammed itself in her throat, and she waited, eyes glued to the splay of light streaming through the window.
Nothing.
Maybe the thick insulation inside the walls was also doing a decent job of soundproofing the room.
Yay her.
A shiver traveled her spine, and she internally cursed over how fast time was running out. Too cold and whatever progress she made wouldn’t matter. She’d be right back where she started with no escape in sight.
She refused to accept that possibility. No matter what, she wasn’t letting Xander down again.
Setting back to work, she painstakingly shuffled the light into the corner. Tugging and stabilizing over and over until she’d successfully wedged two of the legs against the wall for support, the third jutting into the room at a forty-five degree angle.
Scooting around on her butt, she placed her back to the stand and fumbled her useless hands along the base. Her fingers located what she could only hope was the metal edge of the leg, and she firmed her lips against the shriek of her muscles, elbows bent to run the zip tie down the outer corner.
She checked over her shoulder, but the light didn’t move, and with each careful scrape, her confidence grew. Gradually increasing the pressure, she leaned into the work.
Heat blossomed in her chest. Sweat popped along her brow, but she continued scraping, scraping, scraping until the zip tie finally split and her exhausted arms swung like two dead weights to her sides.
Thank God. She tipped her head back, hissing as burning tingles flooded her elbows, racing down her forearms into her wrists and palms. Thank God, thank God, that part had worked.
Hitching her shoulders, she plopped first one hand and then the other onto her lap, concentrating on flexing and clenching her fingers. She needed them back, all movement and sensation fully functional if she stood one chance at handling the next phase in her plan.
Pushing to her feet, she shook out her arms, hopped around to get herself warm and flopped a few lopsided jumping jacks.
Okay, next. Circling her wrists with the opposite fingers, she squinted at the wire cage guarding the halogen bulb. Then did her best to clean the blood off her palms and used the tails of Xander’s shirt like a dishtowel.
Four metal tabs held the guard in place, one near each corner, screwed to the steel frame housing the bulb and reflective base. She chewed her bottom lip. Zero help there.
Unless…
One of her brows rose as she fingered the thinner, less-sturdy sides of the cage. While they were bent to cover the light, they’d been crooked to form a long metal U instead of being secured to the frame like the top and bottom. If she could just find something to pry one of those bad boys away from the light and possibly fracture the metal, she’d be home free.
Whipping her head side to side, she ran for the chair, upended in the center of the room from when Baldy had knocked her into next Tuesday. After carefully lowering the light onto its side, she fed one leg through the cage and applied pressure to the back.
The bar warped in the middle. Black paint cracked and a few flecks wafted down to float in a shallow puddle.
Dammit. She raked her damp bangs away from her face.
Shifting the leg for a better angle, she tried again, throwing her weight into it, then turned and planted her butt on the chair with a hard bounce.
The metal cracked with a vibrating ping, and she shook her fists toward the ceiling. Yes! As of this second, she was never again going to worry or complain about lugging around a few extra pounds. Thank God for my glorious fat ass!
Repeating the process with the other side, she soon clutched the exact piece she needed against her chest, eyes watering and the bruises on her left cheek smarting from her giddy smile.
Step two, check. A quick trip to carry the chair across the room and center it behind the door, and she knelt before the lock, eyes closed, fingers trembling, slipping the tumblers with an uncanny instinct Malcolm had always said bordered on precognition.
The lock retracted, and she hopped to her feet. Heart racing, she twisted the knob, and the hinges complained as the door swung in toward the room.
Baldy’s shadow turned in the hall, and she spun for the chair. Hands clutching the sides, she bent her knees to her chest and filled her lungs with as much air as they could hold.
“Standby. I got a problem.” He poked his head inside and she shoved with both feet.
The heavy door caught him square under the chin. His surprised grunt echoed off concrete walls as the back of his head banged the frame.
The door returned, and she jack-hammered her legs a second time, heaving with everything inside her.
A second slam of his head, and his two-way radio hit the tiled hallway. Plastic cracked. The pieces scattered. He grabbed the jamb and frowned as if he wasn’t quite sure what either of them were supposed to be doing.
“Get clear! Charlie, get clear!”
Xander!
She scrambled from the chair and flew into the opposite corner, hands flattened against the adjacent walls. A deafening roar filled the room, and she slapped her palms over her ears as Baldy jerked his head up, eyes blank, and slowly tipped forward like a felled tree.
A gag-inducing crunch as he face-planted the floor, and she clamped one hand over her mouth, the other crumpling the front of Xander’s shirt.
Embedded to the hilt, the thick black handle of a hunting knife jutted from the base of his skull.
Dead. Dear God, he was dead.
She lifted her eyes to Xander, framed in the threshold, and searched the heart-wrenching panic on his bruised and bloodied face.
He’d come for her. Just like he’d said. And he would do so again in a heartbeat if she asked.
Pushing off from the wall, she ran straight for his arms. In one agile move, he leapt over Baldy’s body, his long legs closing the distance, arms open to catch her mid-leap and swing her right off her feet. “Jesus, Charlie. You’re blue.”
God, she didn’t care what she looked like. How much she weighed, or if her eyes were the right color, or if anyone thought she deserved to spend the next twenty years in jail. Only that joy, love, relief… So many emotions she couldn’t process them all surged through her heart and Xander was here. With her. And she was never letting him go. She was never, ever, ever letting him go again.
Legs wrapped around his waist, she hung on tight, trying to steal as much heat from him as she could. “I’m so sorry, Xander. I swear, I never meant for any of this to—”
“Stop.” He leaned back and met her lips, one hand cradling her head and the other planted firmly on her bottom. The heated swirl of his tongue filled her senses with peppermint, and she dove in for more, loving the way he tasted and smelled and pulling every delicious bit of him deep into her soul.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He rained kisses over her cheeks and chin, her eyelids and nose before snuggling her close, cheeks touching. Just holding her. Right where she’d always belonged. “In fact, I’m pretty sure everyone including the FBI is gonna be than
king you once this is over.” He turned for the door. “Now, come on. Let’s get you outta here before anyone else shows up.”
The black SUV. Dammit, he’d been dealing with the Feds on top of everything else?
“Did they hurt you?” She ran her fingertips over the weeping gash on his cheek. Shit, this was all her fault. Exactly like she’d always worried, her stupid crap had brought him nothing but trouble and it was completely her fault. “Did they make you hand over the formula?”
One side of his luscious, non-stop mouth curled in a smile. “No, Chuck. I stashed it someplace no one will ever be able to get their hands on it except me.” Stepping over Baldy’s body, he entered the hall and glanced side to side. The frayed pockets of his jeans grazed her inner thighs as she slowly slid down his body to her toes. “As for what they said or did, none of that came anywhere close to how crazy I was without you.”
There was no way in hell she deserved him. She clung to his waist even as he shrugged his jacket and flannel shirt off his shoulders and wrapped them around her back.
“We need to get you warm.” His callused palm cupped her cheek. Tingles wound through her jaw as he ran his thumb over the swollen skin under her eye. “Who else touched you? I swear to God, if they—”
“No one.” She crammed her arms into the sleeves and he brushed her trembling hands aside, tugging the zipper up to her chin. “Just Baldy, and you already got ʼim.”
And the sad truth was, she was glad. That jerk had forced her to break a promise. One she’d made to herself years ago.
“Hey.” Xander pulled her to his chest. His lips met and held against her forehead in a fierce kiss. “No one is ever hitting you again. You got that? Never again for as long as I’m around.”
She closed her eyes, fisting the front of his t-shirt. How was it the man always knew exactly what was going through her mind? “Careful, Dade.” She tipped her head back to offer him a watery smile. “Those are some pretty hefty words you’re tossing around.”
And if she was the luckiest chick in the world, they were ones she would do everything in her power to see him keep.
The click of a loaded barrel ricocheted down the hall, and Charlie spun right. Then frowned as a woman she’d never laid eyes on before stepped forward.
A shiver dislodged her shoulders as Xander’s strong arms firmed around her back. Uh-oh… She refocused on his face. If the way he’d tensed was anything to go by, they’d just landed in some serious deep shit.
“Christ,” he whispered. “There’s no way in hell.”
Chapter 18
Shock lifted Xander’s brows, and Charlie tore her eyes off his face to reassess the woman standing near the end of the corridor.
They knew each other? Another glance between them, and her stomach flipped. And in whatever capacity that might be, the fact this new threat held them at gunpoint…the crazed anger dancing through her eyes…
Charlie didn’t need a crystal ball to know the woman had come here looking for her own special brand of revenge.
She squinted. The thing that didn’t add up was how this person from Xander’s past figured into Ryan’s kidnapping scheme. What did their history have to do with the formula? Or anything else for that matter?
The blunt edges of her dark hair grazed the shoulders of her black suit jacket as she tossed her head back, her maniacal laugh amplified by the bare walls. “I take it you’re surprised to see me…Alexei.”
Alexei? Charlie darted another peek at Xander. As in, some alternate personality he’d used during a scam?
“Loretta Swinehart.” He pushed Charlie’s hip, easing in front of her as if he’d suddenly morphed into Superman and any bullets the psycho unloaded would magically ricochet off his chest.
Right. Didn’t matter who was who. Whatever this woman wanted, the simple fact she’d shown up made Xander nervous, and that was more than sufficient to explain the level of danger they were in. “I gotta say I’m impressed. Guess I should’ve waited around a little longer, huh? Made sure the Feds had you under wraps before leaving the club.”
Loretta whatever-the-hell-pig-name sneered. “It’s a little late for flattery, don’t you think? Stroking my ego won’t save you and it won’t save your girlfriend. I told you I would get even. The only thing that’s disappointing is how you believed I couldn’t do it.”
She was a previous mark. Someone Xander had pissed off enough to set up this whole snatch and grab scenario and… What? Torture the woman he loved as payback? Make Charlie suffer in exchange for some supposed wrongdoing Xander had dished out?
Eyes squeezed tight, Charlie shook her head. If that were the case, why not just kill her from the very beginning? That would’ve been a much easier, simpler way to make him pay.
“Well, you proved me wrong, all right. Good job, Loretta.” Xander reached behind his back and motioned for Charlie to retreat a step, flicking his finger toward the open cell door.
Oh, hell no. She wasn’t leaving him out here to deal with this lunatic. No matter what came next, they were in this together. Even if that together lasted another ten seconds.
“The only thing I can’t piece together is how you ended up working for Ryan. Although, I gotta admit, scamming the mass populace does seem right up your alley.”
Loretta’s throaty laugh lifted the hair on Charlie’s arms. “I’m not working for Ryan, you idiot. I couldn’t give a shit about his stupid formula other than how handing it over to the Feds will earn me a free pass.”
Another flick of Xander’s finger, and Charlie aimed a confused frown at the doorway. What was he doing? She ran her gaze the length of Baldy’s prone body and slumped.
The knife.
It was the only weapon they had at their disposal, and if she could somehow get it to him, there was every chance he could end this before it even got started.
“That’s the trouble with guys like you. Always thinking you’re the only ones with friends in low places. The only ones smart enough to make a deal.” Loretta waved the gun around almost as if she’d forgotten it was in her hand. “I wasn’t in lock-up two hours before a stuffed-suit showed up. Some fossilized slob the Justice Department sent in, wanting to know if I’d be interested in working for them in exchange for reducing my sentence.”
Slipping two fingers in Xander’s back belt loop, Charlie angled him a step closer to the door. If he could just keep her talking. Buy them some time.
“So you agreed to do a little phishing on their behalf, and that’s when you found me.”
The barrel swept the hallway as Loretta flipped her wrist aside. “It was supposed to be easy. Become a part of Ryan’s inner circle, gain their trust and see what I could learn in the process. But all that changed when they handed me his file.” She huffed. “Imagine my surprise at finding a picture of you inside, standing beside some fat blond in front of a crappy New York tenement.” Rolling her eyes, she faked a gag. “The only thing they cared about was her. How she’d broken into Ryan’s condo and stolen his laptop. And the worst part was, I’d offered you a chance with me and instead you went for some cheap bimbo who wasn’t even smart enough to figure out the Feds were using her as bait. One look at that love struck expression on your face, and I knew she would be the key to getting anything I was after.”
The edge of Charlie’s foot bumped Baldy’s ankle, and she stepped aside. Just a little more…
“It was obvious I had to take over. Play both sides of the fence. Those morons at the FBI can’t tell their asses from a hole in the ground, and neither can the wide assortment of politicians Ryan has in his camp. The more information I leaked to either side, the more each team treated me like I was one of their own.” The rap of Loretta’s heel punctuated the silence, gun stiff and Xander centered in her sights. “It’s amazing how fast a few well-placed secrets can buy a person whatever they might need. In less than two days, I had the name of a mercenary who was only too happy to test my theory, break into her apart
ment and ransack the place so I could see how you’d respond. And when you left for Chicago the next morning, I knew I was right.
“You’d fallen in love with her, and manipulating you would be as easy as snatching her right out from under your nose. All I had to do was sit back and let The Postman bring her in, and once we had her you’d do whatever it took to get her back, including handing over whatever secrets the government was after or coming to her rescue so I could kill you myself.”
Her eyes flicked to Baldy, and Charlie froze. “Hold it right there, Blondie. I need that formula, and if you plan on seeing tomorrow, I suggest you quit fidgeting while I convince Alexei to hand it over.”
She refocused on Xander, aiming the gun at his chest. “Now, where is it?” Her high-pitched scream pierced the hallway, and Charlie grimaced. Damn, the woman was about to go postal. “Give it to me and I just may find it in my heart to let your little pork chop walk out of here alive.”
Great. And then maybe the two of them could get mani/pedis. Go shopping and pick out matching shoes at the mall.
“I hate to cramp your style but, before you pull that trigger, you should know there’s only one copy left.” Xander’s low chuckle came off downright diabolical, and Charlie zeroed in on his broad back.
Oh, no. What had he done?
“Kill me and you lose, Loretta. Ryan’s formula is hidden inside my head.”
Charlie’s pulse sped forward as she searched the side of his face, but he wasn’t bluffing. The set of his jaw was too stubborn. He didn’t blink or swallow or exhibit any signs of someone who was laying down a load of crap.
She glanced at the flipped-out woman down the hall—face beet red, gun shaking.
Charlie’s stomach sank.
And Loretta believed him as well. The only question was whether or not hearing how Xander had left her no choice but to keep him alive would push her over the edge.
Tipping her head back, she released an ear-splitting shriek toward the ceiling. Alarm skittered down Charlie’s spine, and she whirled, diving for the knife.
