by Diana Gardin
But why can’t I keep the wave of dread surging through me at bay?
We were careful. No one should have followed us out of town. We took roundabout routes and kept our eyes glued to our backs the entire time. So if this is Horton or his men, how’d they find us on the open road deep into the Appalachians? The thought gives me pause. From the moment the whole story about her ex-boss poured out of Rayne, we’ve been behind the eight ball. We haven’t caught up to the guy, we haven’t been able to apprehend any of his accomplices. We’ve been jumping through hoops to locate him, and based on the fact that I haven’t heard a word from the team back home, we’re still searching.
I’m missing something vital when it comes to this case, and that fact is what slams me with icy fear right now.
“Bullshit. I’m not staying in the car, Jeremy. This case is about me, right? I want to be out there with you.”
A rumble of anger rockets through my chest, at the same time a sliver of fear slices through my gut. “No fucking way, Rayne. You stay.”
I can almost hear the stubborn streak settling into place as she lifts her chin. “I go.”
Up ahead, Dare pulls off to the shoulder, far enough off of the main road not to be hit. His taillights are the brightest things in the darkening landscape. There’s nothing around us for miles. This is it.
Pulling up behind him, I reach across Rayne and open the glove compartment. I have more weapons in the trunk, including an M-16 assault rifle with a scope and a brand-new, wickedly curved hunting knife, courtesy of NES weapons locker. Grabbing hold of my 9 mm and pulling it out of the glove box, I level my gaze at Rayne.
“You have one job right now, Rayne. And that’s to stay with Decker.”
“What if something happens?”
God, I have to give this woman credit. Her voice, which was rising with anxiety before, is now mostly controlled. I can hear the slight tremor, but her tone is even and she’s trying like hell to keep her composure. I know it’s for the sake of our son, who’s petting Night in the backseat.
“Rayne.” I grind the word out through my teeth. “I’ve gotta go. Stay in the car.”
I can’t wait for her to acknowledge my order. Dare’s already out of his truck, armed, and moving with rapid steps toward the back of my SUV.
Slamming my door, I join him at the back and we both holster our guns. Our hands are free as we assume unthreatening positions, two guys just checking on an issue with our car on the shoulder of the road.
“Plan?” Knowing that my whole life is inside the Land Cruiser, I try hard to focus on my teammate.
“Wait. See if he stops. If he does, we’re ready. He’s either gonna barrel out of that car shooting, or he’s gonna have something to say. Let’s hope it’s the latter.”
At the sound of an engine roaring around the bend, we loosen our stances, turning our bodies so that we can conceal our weapons by our sides at the ready beside the car.
“Better yet, let’s hope that whoever is in that sedan just blows on by.” My grumble is lost somewhere in the wind.
Headlights breach the dusk, and the sedan rolls around the bend. The brakes send a soft screech into the night, and I can’t remember the last time a sound scared me.
But this one does.
“Here we go,” murmurs Dare.
We both rise to our full heights and face the sedan now rolling to a stop some fifty feet from where we stand behind the Land Cruiser. The headlights remain on, and I stare just off to the side of them so I won’t be blinded. Four car doors open, and four men remove themselves from the car and stand to face us.
They’re all dressed casually, except for one who apparently believes that dress shoes, slacks, and a tailored shirt are the best wear for a mountain excursion. As the group begins to approach, Dare and I pull our weapons.
“Stop.” My voice is deadly as my training kicks into high gear. “Not another step, or I will shoot to kill. Who are you?”
“Oh, I think the formalities are unnecessary at this point, don’t you, Mr. Teague? Or should I say Sergeant Teague, elite member of the Night Eagle Security Team?”
My blood begins to simmer in my veins as I lower my gun just enough to get a good look at the speaker. He moves to stand in the center of the pack of four, obviously claiming the leadership spot.
And from the polished appearance that matches every picture I’ve discovered online, I can see that this is Wagner Horton, in the flesh.
“Decide to come yourself this time, huh, Horton? Tired of seeing the dickheads you send coming back empty-handed? Ready to settle this like a man?” My voice is low, dangerous, taunting. I want to see how far I can push this asshole before he breaks. Before I break him.
Beside me, Dare shifts, and I know it’s because he’s covering all four men with his weapon. None of them have drawn, but each of their hands linger near their waists, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess why.
“Taking a vacation, were you?” Wagner continues, seemingly unimpressed by my question. He gestures around him at the gorgeous landscape. “Mountains this time of year…very pretty. The air is just about to turn chilly, the leaves are readying themselves for a change…”
Horton’s tone indicates that he has all the time in the world.
I don’t.
“What do you want? Ready to come on into our headquarters, tell us why you’ve been stalking Rayne?”
Horton tsks, and the sound of it sends a jolt of rage through my body. “Oh, yes. Let’s talk about Rayne, shall we? My former employee. She ran away without giving me her two weeks’ notice, did you know that, Mr. Teague? Very unprofessional of her. Also very unprofessional? The way she dressed around the office. She liked to tempt and tease me, you see. The woman has a hell of a set of legs on her, that’s true. And that ass, in a tight skirt…well, I can see why you’re taking her on a spur-of-the-moment getaway.”
He’s trying to bait me. It’s obvious and it’s pathetic, and I’m trained way better than that. He can’t get to Rayne. Not unless he goes through me.
“Again, I’m asking you. For the last time.” I take three steps closer, and the men on either side of Horton bristle, stepping forward.
But Horton only smiles, his teeth gleaming in the semidark glow of the early evening. “Not a patient man, I see? That, I can understand. Neither am I. So let’s get down to it. Your Rayne has seen something that didn’t concern her. And if you release her to me now, I promise not to hurt her. I just want to know what she knows, so I can do a little damage control. Explain it to her properly.”
Lying son of a bitch.
“Liar!”
Rayne’s voice approaches from the side of the car, and I let out a whole slew of curses in my head.
“Stay. Back. Rayne.” Each word is ground out, and I don’t turn my head to look at her because I refuse to take my eyes off of Horton. But I can hear her footsteps crunching against gravel, retreating once more and I breathe a silent sigh of relief.
From inside the Land Cruiser, Night begins to bark.
The fact that I don’t know where this standoff is going to go, the virtual unpredictability of it, threatens to drive me insane. Dare and I are outnumbered, that much is obvious. But I know that it doesn’t matter. These men are hired muscle.
Not trained, lethal soldiers.
But underestimating Horton would be a mistake. The fact that he’s here himself says something. He’s done waiting, he’s ready to capitalize on his end game, whatever that might be. And thus far, he’s had the upper hand. The strong desire racing along inside of me to end this can’t get in the way of my own common sense.
Without verbally communicating with one another, Dare and I begin to edge out. Our movements are so marginal, it shouldn’t be apparent to the four men standing before us that we’re slowly going to close in on them from either side.
Keep talking, Horton.
“The way I hear it, you’re a thief. Isn’t that right, Horton?” My voice is calm, steady, smoot
h. Collected. Thank God for desert ops training. Dealing with snakes in the desert is exactly the same as dealing with snakes on your own soil. No sudden moves, and always come at them from behind.
Dare and I can’t inch any farther unless we force them to break their tight formation.
Lowering my weapon, I slowly place it in its holster. “See? We can be friendly here, can’t we? We can sort all this out. Why don’t you tell me what Rayne saw.”
Let me hear you lie through your teeth some more, you son of a bitch.
The growl of an engine drifts toward us from the distance, and Dare tenses beside me. We could put our guns down for the sake of the passing motorist to prevent calling attention to ourselves, but I’d be willing to bet that the second our weapons are no longer drawn, Horton’s men will strike. So through an unspoken agreement, we keep our revolvers trained at the enemy. But as all four men glance at the bend in the road, Dare and I each take a step farther away from each other and toward them.
At this point, I hope the motorist calls 9-1-1. Having the cops show up right now would be a relief, not a hindrance. Even though at this point I wish I was still in Wilmington, where I have PD connections from when Swagger and I were on the force.
A black SUV tears around the bend, blowing past us, moving too fast for me to get a good look. But then the screech of breaks warns us that the vehicle is stopping, the loud crunch of tires on loose rock alerting us to the fact that the SUV is turning around.
What the hell? This person have a death wish?
Keeping my eyes trained on Horton, something inside me crumbles when his calm smile grows into a sneer. And I know right then that we’re in trouble. I hear the sound of more than one car door opening, but no resulting slam of the doors closing.
“Wheels.” I grind out, the sick feeling in my stomach ramping up to ice-cold, panicked terror. But it’s too late.
Rayne’s startled cry forces me to turn toward her.
Dare acts on instinct: he pivots toward the closest man to him and uses the butt of his revolver to smash it into the guy’s temple. Going down like an anchor at sea, the guy crumbles as another man pulls his gun from his waist holster. Dare’s hand snaps out, grabbing the guy’s wrist and twisting. The gun clatters to the pavement but Dare keeps twisting, snapping the man’s wrist before planting a good into his knee and bowing the man’s leg out. A scream of pain rips from the injured man as he slumps to the ground.
But I can’t go after the last man or Horton, because Rayne is behind held against a newcomer’s chest. I recognize the sickly pale face of Kevin O’Shea, private investigator. His white-blond hair is slicked back away from his face and his lips curve upward in a leer as he bends down close to a struggling Rayne’s ear.
“Now, I’d hold still if I were you, sweetheart. Gonna get your man or your boy hurt acting like that.”
She stills, all the color draining from her face.
“Let her go.” I don’t recognize my voice. It’s sandpaper brushing over rough stones, and I clear my throat as I level my gun at the man clutching my world to his chest.
“Stop.” Horton’s voice slides over us all, but I don’t turn to face him.
Dare stops, alerted by the sound of my pain, and when I glance at him he’s standing at the head of one of the men he put on the ground. He’s barely winded, and he now has his gun leveled at Horton while the last remaining casually dressed guard has his pointing at Dare’s head.
From the Land Cruiser, Night’s barks have reached an epic level of canine apprehension.
“I’ve never been a fan of weapons myself,” Horton continues. “Too Neanderthal. Too messy.” With a lazy wave of his hand, he gestures toward the other side of the Land Cruiser, where two more men, these two in a matching uniform of gray suits, stand waiting. Their suits clash absolutely with the nasty-looking rifles in their hands.
Horton aims his command at Rayne. “Instruct your son to remove himself from the car without releasing the attack dog.”
“No.” Rage blooms inside me, partially because Horton has the fucking balls to order Rayne around, and partly because of the utter helplessness of the situation. We’re outnumbered, Rayne is in the hands of the enemy, and now they’re bringing my son into the fold.
Dare stands motionless, his eyes darting, moving, missing nothing.
At least he took down two. But there are five more remaining, including Horton. And I don’t like those odds, not when the lives of Rayne and my son are on the line.
I can’t take any action that will risk their lives right here and now.
“Fuck you, Wagner.” Rayne spits the words like knives, straight into Horton’s smug face. I can’t help the tendril of pride that curls through me at the show of her strength.
That’s my girl.
“Very well. The alternative is that my men will start shooting into that car and we’ll drag him out afterward. Is that the route you’d rather take?”
Rayne’s gasp mingles with the nighttime sounds that have begun to descend on the landscape. Crickets, frogs, and an occasional stirring of leaves in the wind echo happily all around us.
With a growl ripping from my chest, I lunge at Horton, who takes a hasty step backward. His guard steps in front of him, pulling a Glock from the waistband of his jeans. He points it at me, and I freeze, but I don’t lower my weapon.
I just don’t know where to point it anymore.
If Rayne and Decker weren’t a factor, Dare and I could have taken our chances fighting our way out of this.
But now? I might as well be weaponless and untrained.
“I will murder every single one of you. Painfully. If you hurt a fucking hair on my son’s or my woman’s head. I hope that’s really fucking clear.” Gathering myself, I toss the words out for the group, pulling myself to my full height and aiming my weapon around our little cluster.
“Noted,” Horton drily. “Do it, Rayne.”
Rayne’s hands are balled into fists at her sides, her chest heaving with her own fury. Leaning down, she knocks on the window to the Land Cruiser and gestures that Decker should get out of the car.
“Fucking hell,” mutters Dare.
Everyone’s eyes are on Decker as my son steps from the vehicle, shutting the door on Night’s frenzied barks. The dog throws himself against the door, trying like hell to force it open again.
Decker surveys the scene with wide, disbelieving eyes.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Rayne’s voice trembles. “I’m right here.”
Decker glances at her, and then at me and the weapon gripped in my hands. “Dad?”
Pain as pure as freshly fallen snow explodes inside me. It mingles with the most unsullied type of love I’ve ever felt. The emotion is so strong, so goddamned true that I almost stagger backward under the weight of it.
It’s the first time he’s ever called me “Dad,” and I’m about to lie to him.
“Everything’s gonna be fine, Deck.” Attempting to keep the absolute fear I feel right now out of my voice physically hurts.
Decker doesn’t say anything else, not even a cry as one of the men in a suit grabs him and hustles him to the black SUV.
“Wait! What the fuck are you doing, Horton?” I turn to the calmest man on the scene. “You don’t need my son. You don’t need Rayne! She doesn’t have any proof. I know everything she does, and I’m a computer hacker. Military trained. I’ll teach you how to clean your system so there’s not a trace of anything you don’t want. Just leave them out of it.”
“This is your only chance to take that deal.” Dare’s voice is pure steel laced with dangerous, dark promise. He wants to murder the man just as much as I do.
Horton tilts his head to the side. I can hear Decker struggling with the man placing him in the SUV, but then the sound is cut off as he slams the door on his cries. When I glance at Rayne, she’s staring at me with tears streaming down her face. Willing me to do something.
But I just used the only card I have. I wa
nt—no, I need—Horton to take me instead of my family.
Horton’s eyes land on Rayne, and the expression I see in them scares the shit out of me. It turns my stomach, sending fingers of dread snaking through the heart of me.
“That’s an interesting offer, Mr. Teague. But Rayne here and I have a history. I’d much rather have her by my side as I prepare to take over the tech world. She knows what I like.”
I lunge again, and this time it’s Dare who reaches out a viselike arm to hold me back.
“Not letting you get a bullet put in you today. Stand down.” His harsh whisper does nothing to lessen the anger fueling me into action.
“We’ll be going now. Put her in the car with me,” he instructs O’Shea.
Despite the fact that Rayne’s struggling for all she’s worth, O’Shea wrestles her toward the sedan.
“I’ll kill you, O’Shea. I’ll fucking kill you, I swear to God.” My words are a promise, and O’Shea pauses with the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. But he follows orders, herding a kicking and biting Rayne to the car.
“We’ll go after them.” Dare’s voice is low, for my ears only.
But I barely hear him, because all I can do is watch as the last man, gun trained on us, backs away. Moving his gun off of us long enough to shoot out all four tires on the Land Cruiser, his face breaks into a sinister grin. Fuck.
“You shoot, everyone goes down.” Dare’s words thrown at him are a warning.
The man blows us a kiss as he jumps into the backseat of the SUV with my son.
“Wait! Just fucking wait a minute!” I throw open the trunk of the Land Cruiser and grab Decker’s backpack.
Sprinting to the man now waiting and watching me from the door of the SUV, I thrust the bag at him. “Take his bag. At least let him have his stuff.”
With a sneer, the man grabs the bag, closes the door on my face as I take one last look at Decker’s stricken face, and the big engine roars to life.
I watch as the two vehicles disappear back around the bend, probably standing there a beat too long, before Dare’s voice breaks into my desolate thoughts.
“We need to regroup. Check in with the team. Boss Man will say we need to turn this over to the FBI. It’s a kidnapping now.”
