by Diana Gardin
When the sound of an engine pulling up in front of the house alerts us all to a visitor, my heart stutters, and on reflex I pull Decker to my side. Wagner’s phone chirps, and when he glances at the screen his face transforms into a genuine smile. A genuine smile from Wagner means nothing good for my son or me.
“Well then.” His voice is cheerful as he stands from his chair and walks toward the couch where Decker and I sit. “Guess it’s time to get the boy back to his daddy.”
I stand, moving myself in front of Decker. “I want to make a new deal.”
Wagner throws his head back and laughs. “Ah. You’re a funny girl, Rayne. I’m going to enjoy having you by my side. Now get the boy up.”
His last words are laced with a warning, but I can’t move. I can’t hand my son over to be taken away from me. Not when I know that Jeremy is on his way for us. “Can we just go upstairs and talk about this for a minute, Wagner?”
Trying to install a note of pleading, of gentleness that I don’t feel into my voice is more than a challenge. I stare up at him, the picture of innocence and openness, but Wagner doesn’t hesitate. Reaching around me, he grabs Decker and yanks him up from the couch.
“You’ll thank me for this later, Rayne.”
Decker begins to struggle as I cry out, “Wait!” I reach for Wagner’s arm and pull as hard as I can.
The two suited guards who are standing beside the doorway to the open kitchen move, but Wagner holds up a hand to them. Whipping his arm from my hold, he rears and backhands me, brutally hard, across the face.
I’ve never been hit. The impact of the blow that I wasn’t prepared for knocks me off my feet, my face on fire. But I don’t stay down. I’m rolling and back up on my feet in seconds, but I sway as a wall of dizziness slams into me.
Though my vision is blurred, I start forward again, a scream lodging in my throat when I see Horton pass Decker off to O’Shea.
And O’Shea drags him out the door.
“Decker!” This time, the scream rips through the air of the cabin.
I surge forward, just as strong arms grab me from behind. I struggle like a wild animal: biting, kicking, striking out. Nausea rises in my gut and I’m in serious danger of hurling all over the gray suit holding me in place. Through my haze of rage and panic and pain, I note that Wagner has calmly closed the door and is now striding toward me with something in his hand.
“Rayne. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this, but you’re making this much too difficult. When you wake up, we’ll be on a plane over the Atlantic.”
I glance down and see the syringe in his hand, and my scream rents the air.
At the same time the sound of an explosion blows toward us from the kitchen.
“What the hell?” The guard behind me loosens his hold and I fly forward right into Wagner’s arms.
The sharp prick in my neck registers, but then the darkness creeps in from all sides.
35
Jeremy
As we pull to a stop, Ronin speaks up. “Out. Let’s gear up.”
Climbing out of the car, I take the Kevlar that Grisham offers me and pull off my black T-shirt. Dare’s truck is bumped up right behind us, and both cars are pulled off the path.
Be thankful for your son and all he stands to inherit.
The line thrown from Horton’s lying mouth tugs at something in my gut. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Inherit? Giving me back my son was never going to be an option for Horton. And he taking Rayne away from me is never going to happen. When he spouts crazy shit out of his mouth like that it scares me even more that my family is currently in his hands.
When I pull my shirt back down over my bulletproof vest, I fit the headpiece that connects me to the team in my ear. Sayward’s voice crackles through it.
“You guys set?”
Ronin answers her, pulling a rifle out of the truck bed. He tosses one to each of us, and we each check the ammunition. Flipping open the cargo pockets on my army-green pants, I stuff extra cartridges inside.
“Sayward,” says Dare. “When we breach the perimeter of the property, I want you to call in local law. I want these assholes funneling straight into handcuffs when we drive them out of there.”
“Copy.” Sayward’s answer makes me grin. The girl is a sponge; she’s been soaking up military lingo since she first began working with us. She might not have the social graces the rest of us do, but she’s a fast learner and proving to be a valuable member of the team.
As we trudge forward, the nighttime sounds of the wood shrieking all around us, our feet nearly silent on the brush and our gazes focused on the path ahead, Grisham murmurs softly, but we hear him perfectly through our earpieces.
“Plan. Two at the entry: Brains and Swagger, Brains at point. One at the back, that’s me. I’ll create an explosive diversion; try to draw as many interior guards toward me at the back as possible. Wheels posted at the sniper position. We don’t have schematics, this we’re blind rats in this maze. So we better make sure we’re the strongest damn rats in the area.”
“Copy,” we all mutter.
We take a sharp twist and the path opens up into a clearing. And sitting in the center of it, about a hundred yards away from the trees where we’re hidden, is an ornate mountain cabin. We all stop and take in the sight, but I can’t hear anything over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. My knees feel suddenly weak and wobbly, and I place a hand against a nearby tree to steady me as my mind turns somersaults around what I’m seeing.
We don’t need schematics. I know this cabin inside and out. It’s been over ten years since I’ve been here, but I’ll never forget my grandparents’ mountain vacation home.
The magazine-worthy log architecture appears quaint and cozy nestled in the clearing, alight with lights burning in the windows and large lantern porch lights glowing yellow in the nighttime darkness. In front of the house, the two vehicles that took Rayne and Decker away from me earlier this evening are parked.
“Fuck me,” I breathe.
My three teammates send puzzled glances in my direction.
“I know this house. It belongs to my grandparents.”
“Damn.” Ronin’s muttered curse is all he gets out before our heads all snap toward the sound of a vehicle approaching from another direction.
A black Suburban with dark tinted windows pulls into the clearing just east of our hidden location. It crawls to a stop, but no one makes a move to get out of the car.
“Think that’s whoever Horton sent to pick up Decker?” asks Ronin.
My teeth grinding together, I stare at the SUV. I know exactly who’s here to pick up my son and I want to break into a run, pull the SUV doors off the hinges, and pull him out of the car by the lapels of his three-piece suit.
“Horton has six guys with him that we know of. Two of them are at the front door right there. Horton has no reason to believe we’re coming. He thinks he’s free and clear, so chances are there’s no on posted at the back. You saw them on the road. We can take them down, but we go in hot. No hesitations. If you have to fire, don’t shoot to kill. Everyone who comes out of this alive serves time, remember that. The goal is to incapacitate, and pull Rayne and Decker out safely.”
The front door of the cabin opens, and I take the first breath I’ve breathed in hours when Decker appears, held steady by Kevin O’Shea. My blood erupts in my veins like lava when I see my kid, and every instinct I have screams at me to get him.
“I’m out,” murmurs Grisham as he begins to move swiftly away from us. “I’ll skirt the perimeter until I reach the back. Wheels…hit the west side and find a perch. You two…watch the kid, but don’t give away our approach unless you have to.”
Gritting my teeth, I shake my head. “I’m not letting Decker leave here in that Suburban.”
We can’t see Grisham anymore, but his voice comes in loud and clear through my earpiece. “Wouldn’t expect you to.”
I watch, my heart thumping a jarring rhythm agai
nst my ribs, as O’Shea tries to lead Decker to the SUV. Decker is struggling like no other, and I’m filled with pride and fear. I don’t want them to hurt him for fighting.
“Wheels,” I hiss. “What’s your position?”
“On my stomach and at the ready,” he replies.
“Can you take down the two at the door?”
In answer, there’s a whizzing sound as Dare’s silencer-equipped rifle fires. One man by the door goes down, holding his knee. In less than a second, the other falls much like the first.
Kevin O’Shea, confused as fuck, turns to look at them, and Decker takes his opportunity. Swinging his backpack around to hit O’Shea as hard as he can, he wrenches free and breaks into a run.
Straight for the tree line where I’m standing.
As I step out to catch him, the driver of the Suburban breaks into a run to try and catch him. But with another quiet bullet from Dare, he goes down with a scream, holding his shoulder.
Decker slams into me, and my arms go around him. In the darkness, he struggles. All he knows is that he was free and now he’s not. Leaning down to his ear, I whisper urgently.
“It’s me! It’s me, Deck. I got you.”
He stops struggling immediately, his small body going limp in my arms. Crouching down in front of him, I watch as his eyes go wide.
“Dad!” His arms go around my neck, and it’s the best fucking hug I’ve ever had.
I smooth his hair as I hug him, and then I pull away and scan his face. “Are you hurt?”
He shakes his head, glancing back toward the cabin. “Mom…she’s still in there!”
Nodding, I gesture toward Ronin. “I know that, Deck. Look…this is my friend Ronin. He used to be a soldier, like me. Stay with him while I go in there and get your mom, okay?”
Decker opens his mouth and I know he’s about to argue, so I give him a serious look as I grip his shoulders. “Listen, Deck. This is a rescue mission, okay? And I need you to follow orders so I can get in there and get your mom. Do you think you can do that for me?”
He nods, and Ronin steps in.
“Don’t like sending you in alone,” he warns.
“Don’t have a choice.” With one last look at Decker, I step from the tree line and sprint toward the house. Just as I’m passing the Suburban, a loud explosion sounds from the back of the house.
“I got two down.” Grisham’s voice in my ear.
That means there’s only one guard and Horton left.
I’m at about the bottom of the steps when the sound of a car door stops me.
The Suburban. Not empty.
“Hello, Jeremy. I didn’t expect to see you here. Where’s my grandson?”
When I turn around, it’s to face my grandfather.
And he’s pointing a Glock directly at my chest.
“Granddad.”
The fact that my own grandparent is leveling a gun at me should be disturbing. It should be surprising. It should be devastating.
But it isn’t, because I know Mason Teague. He was always ruthless, you don’t get to the top in business unless you have that trait. But over the past ten years, since I cut all ties with that world, he’s gone to the dark side. I saw it that day at his house in Wilmington, and I’m definitely seeing it now.
“Granddad? Shit.” Dare’s curse crackles through my earpiece. “I have a shot, man. You want me to take it?”
I shake my head, knowing that Dare will see it and know it’s for him.
I take a step closer to my grandfather when a scream from inside the house rips through my insides like wildfire.
My body tenses. That was Rayne. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Granddad…you gonna shoot me? Because if you’re not, I need to get in there.” I jerk a thumb over my shoulder.
His hands are steady. “My great-grandson.”
A growl rumbles in my chest. “Will never know you. He’s gone. You think I’m just gonna hand him over? I’d let you shoot me first.”
Grisham’s voice, inside the house, sounds through my earpiece. “Hey, hey, hey. Easy now, Horton. You don’t want to do this.”
I trust Grisham with my life on a daily basis, but he’s not the one who should be inside that cabin if my woman is in trouble. It should be me. A cold sweat breaks out on my skin as a thousand scenarios of what Grisham’s seeing right now flash through my head. None of them are good.
“This mess is because of you?” I spit the words. “That Mergers and Acquisitions folder I saw on your desk? Tech companies aren’t in your wheelhouse, are they?”
His face remains stone cold, and dead serious. “They are if bringing them under the Teague Industries umbrella gets me what I want. And I want another chance to raise a Teague heir who has the balls to take over my legacy when I’m gone.”
Grisham: “You hurt her, Horton? Why is she unconscious? You know this won’t end well, right? Why don’t you hand her over to me? Then you can run if you want.”
She’s unconscious? Horton is a fucking dead man. Rage boils within me, and now I direct it right at Mason Teague for keeping me away from Rayne, back then and right now.
“How long have you been planning this? Have you known about Decker all along?” My anger is seething just below the surface, and if I don’t contain it I’m likely to explode.
His right eye twitches, a habit he’s always had when dealing with stressful situations. “Do you think I would have let that stupid little twit run off all those years ago without making it my mission to find her? She’d changed her name, but when I finally found her, Decker was about six years old. I watched, and waited for my opportunity. When she began working for Horton Tech, I researched the company. I knew it was my chance to get close to her and bring my great-grandson home.”
My jaw tightens painfully as my back teeth grind together. “And so, what? You pay out of your ass and Horton somehow kidnaps my son for you and takes my woman? And you really thought I was going to let that happen?” My words might as well have been tinged with venom.
He takes a step forward and I can almost hear Dare’s trigger finger tense. “When I figured out that he was alive, do you really think I would let my great-grandson grow up without me in his life? Or that I would let Rayne get away with defying me? Once I knew she had your child there was no way I was letting a Teague be raised by anyone else. I did this for you, you ungrateful idiot! I brought him back here for you, so you would have a chance to raise him…the right way. It was time to get rid of that little bitch once and for all. It was time for you to get your head out of your ass and for the Teague men to run my business. It was time for both of you to come home!”
I raise my voice. “There’s a red dot on your back.”
He freezes.
Inside, Grisham continues to talk to Horton. “You can drop her and walk right out that front door. I’m pretty sure the cops will be here any minute, so you don’t have much time.”
Atta boy, Ghost.
I don’t know if I’ve ever been so grateful to a member of my team before now.
But I’m done with my grandfather.
“That’s right. Did you think I came alone? My whole team is here, and there’s no way we’re letting either you or Horton walk away. So you have a choice. You can either pull your trigger and end up dead yourself, or you can lower your weapon and let us take you in to the local authorities.”
The rage in his eyes is due to the loss of control. If there’s one thing that matters to Mason Teague, it’s control. And he just lost the upper hand in a situation he thought he had all figured out.
His hand shakes as he raises his weapon, and I know what’s going to happen before I hear the whistle of the shot that Dare fires. I only have time to see the Glock fly out of my grandfather’s hands and to hear his cry of pain as he registers the fact that his hand has been grazed by a bullet before I’m turning and sprinting up the stone steps of the cabin.
“I’m grabbing him.” Dare’s voice sounds like he’s running, and I kn
ow that my grandfather won’t be able to run.
I burst through the front door just as Horton reaches it. His arms are full of an unconscious Rayne, whom he throws at me and shoulders by.
Catching Rayne, I sink down to the knotty pine floor with her in my arms. Grisham kneels beside me.
Pushing Rayne’s thick hair from her face, my stomach turns and I can’t seem to swallow past the enormous lump growing in my throat. “I’m so sorry, darlin’.”
As sirens reach us in the distance, the only thing I can think about is getting medical attention for Rayne. I look her over, being as gentle as I can. “What’d he do to you?”
Grisham looks her over, too. “I think he hit her.”
When I look at Rayne’s face, I go rigid with fury, because Horton’s fucking handprint is etched in an angry red mark on the side of her face. But it doesn’t explain why she’s unconscious. Her chest rises and falls, so I know that she’s breathing and her heart is beating. But the paleness of her skin other than the mark on her face scares the shit out of me. She’s so limp in my arms and she feels so damn far away.
Conscious of possible broken bones, I pull her to my chest. Kissing her hair, I whisper in her ear. “Come back to me, Rayne. Come back to me and Deck.”
The steady beeping of the monitors has been my saving grace. If the room had been quiet for the past four hours, I would have ripped the place apart. I would have gone completely fucking crazy. I’ve been sitting in a chair I’ve pulled next to the bed, watching Rayne’s still face as she sleeps.
After she was admitted and the doctors examined her, they didn’t find any bodily injuries that would have caused her to lose consciousness. And even after being grilled by local law enforcement, Horton wasn’t talking. The doctors completed a tox screen that revealed that Rayne had heavy tranquilizers in her system.
