by Nicole Helm
The muffled echo of a crack interrupted the picturesque quiet. Gunshot. Tucker was off running before he’d even thought it through. He looked back at Duke once. He was running, too, but at a much slower pace.
“Go!” Duke shouted.
Which was all the encouragement Tucker needed to run at full speed back to the house. He’d break down the front door if he had to. He’d—
The explosion was so loud and powerful, it knocked Tucker back. He managed to stay on his feet, but for a horrible second he watched the entire house go up in flames as the sound of glass shattering and debris thundering surrounded him.
Then, after that split second, he ran toward it. What other option was there? People were inside. Rachel. Shay. But as he headed for the door, flames and smoke already enshrouding it, people came pouring out.
Tucker didn’t see Shay. He didn’t know if that was good or bad. The people were bloody, burned, coughing. He tried to find someone who looked remotely communicative, but they were all in various shapes of injury and couldn’t answer his demands as the fire roared around them.
Two figures emerged then, one dragging the other. It was Shay. He couldn’t tell whom she was dragging, but it wasn’t Rachel. It was a large man. Tucker ran to her.
“Sorry,” she rasped. She let go of the man she’d been hauling as people rushed forward to help him.
“He’d been shot,” Shay rasped. “I went to the questioning room and he’d been shot. I couldn’t find Rachel or the new guy. The Dymon guy. He had to have taken her out the back.” She swayed but Tucker managed to catch her before she fell in a heap. “The explosion went off before I managed to do anything. Got emergency services coming,” she continued as Tucker helped her into a sitting position on the ground. “But I don’t think I’m going to be much help with Rachel.”
“Give me your gun,” Tucker managed, though terror pounded through him. When she did, he handed it to Duke who huffed up to them. “Shay thinks Rachel got out—or was taken out with someone. I’m going to find the trail. You do the same,” he instructed to Duke.
Much as it pained him to leave this misery in his wake, he had to find Rachel before she met a worse fate. He had to make a wide circle around the flames to get to the back. He didn’t worry about how close Duke was. He only worried about getting to Rachel.
Debris had flown more back here, which made Tucker think the explosives had been detonated from the back. If whoever had Rachel had detonated the explosives by hand rather than remotely, it made sense. He’d have dragged Rachel out, then set off the bomb before he dragged her away.
Why drag her away and keep her alive, though? Why not let her die in the explosion?
But the guy hadn’t. He’d taken her away, and regardless of the reason, Tucker had to believe that’s what happened. Believe it and save her from this.
The yard was wooded. Tucker ruthlessly tamped down the panic gripping him. He had to think like a cop. Like the person he’d trained to be. Like his brothers. Calm in the face of crisis. In the face of someone he loved being taken.
He moved to the trees, looking for signs of tracks or struggle. There was nothing, but this was the only way the man could have gone. Tucker scoured the ground. He heard Duke’s approach, though they didn’t speak. They moved and they looked.
Tucker couldn’t let himself think of Rachel being dragged out of that house by some Vianni thug. He couldn’t think about the very real possibility that a Sons member was waiting to help—
“Wait.” Tucker stopped. The rational thing to do was head for the trees and cover. Unless there was help waiting somewhere else. He tried to orient himself—the house—where it would be in relation to the Sons. The Sons current headquarters was a few hours away, but if they were meeting someone with a car, they’d need a road. It wouldn’t have been the road Shay had instructed him to use, because that was the main thoroughfare and would be too obvious.
“Go back to the house. Get a car. Anyone you can find,” Tucker instructed, already moving north instead of his original west. “Once you’ve got a car, start driving for Flynn via Route 5. But be careful. The Sons might be involved.”
With no time to spare, Tucker took off for Route 5. It meant running through open land, and that was dangerous, but if he could get to Rachel before they got her into a car, he didn’t care what they did to him.
Chapter Twenty
Rachel slowly came to. Someone was dragging her, swearing. She could feel the ground beneath her, tell it was still daylight as the sun beat down on her face.
“Stupid plan,” the man muttered.
It was like her dream. The fear and his muttering, but she was bigger. She was a woman now. She’d tried to fight him back in that room, but then everything had gone black.
Now, everything hurt, and her head pounded with excruciating pain. He must have knocked her out. She tried to kick out, but her ankles were tied together. So were her hands. She wanted to sob, but she knew instinctively if he didn’t know she was awake, she was better off.
She wasn’t going to be able to escape him with her hands and feet tied, and she couldn’t use the button Shay had sewn into her sleeve. But she was alive. She supposed that was the silver lining. She wasn’t dead.
At three years old, she’d survived being cut in the face and losing her sight. She could survive this. She would survive this.
The dragging stopped and he dropped her without warning. She couldn’t hold back the sharp groan of pain.
“You awake?”
Dymon nudged her with his foot, and she kept her eyes closed. She let her head loll as she made another soft groaning noise, trying to pretend she was still unconscious. Or just coming to.
He muttered something. There was shuffling, the methodical plodding of feet like he was pacing the hard ground beneath them. “I need help. You can’t expect me to make it all the way to the road. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Had to shoot McMillan. No, I didn’t check. I had to get her out. Yeah, I know no casualties but things went sideways.”
Rachel realized he was on the phone, talking to someone about getting her to the road. And if he got her to the road, she’d be put into a car. There’d be more people.
How would anyone find her if she was in a car? Wasn’t there something about not ever letting anyone take you to a second location? Better to be killed than make it to that second location.
She swallowed down the fear. Somehow, someway, she had to fight. There was no waiting for Tucker or Shay to find her if there was a car waiting. Once she got in that car, she was as good as dead.
Dymon continued to grumble, and she slowly realized he was done with his phone conversation and was instead just talking to himself. Nothing important or telling, just complaints about being the only one with the balls to do the dirty work.
Rachel continued to pretend as though she were unconscious as she tried to figure out how on earth she was going to get out of this. She couldn’t get out of the bonds on her wrists and ankles—they were too tight—but there had to be something she could do.
Back in the room, this man had wanted to know about her dream. About the knife. So...maybe she had to give that to him to keep him occupied, to buy herself time.
Hopefully enough time for Tucker to intercept her before the man got her to the car waiting for him.
She groaned some more, started to move, thrashed a bit against her bonds for effect. She blinked her eyes open.
Dymon grunted. “Thought I knocked you out better than that.” He sighed heavily. “Guess I’ll have to do a better job this time. Maybe just fix the problem altogether.”
He was going to kill her. Here and now. No getting to the road. No second location, just death.
“No. No. Please—please don’t.” She swallowed at the fear and the bile rising in her throat. She had to be braver than this. “I know where it is,” she blurted out. He’d mention
ed the knife. She knew which one he was referring to. “I know who you are. I know what you did. And most importantly, I know where the knife you want is.”
“So does your father.”
“But you have me. Not him.”
Dymon made a dismissive noise, and Rachel didn’t know if it was agreement or refusal. She had no idea what he planned to do. He was simply a shadowy figure above her and she had no means to fight.
But no matter what was against her, she did not have to die without trying to survive. She knew what side of her the man was standing on, and she knew she was on a little bit of an incline. She could roll. And scream. Maybe someone would be able to save her.
If not? At least she’d tried.
She tested the incline, the placement of her own body and rocked back and forth a little. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. She counted inwardly and then did her best to use momentum to move into a roll—screaming as loud as she could while she started to gain speed down the incline.
Dymon swore at her viciously, and there was the sound of hard footsteps and a stumble and more swearing. Then her rolling was stopped as she knocked into what she was assuming was him.
“You idiot,” he yelled.
She had the impression of him getting ready to strike. She could only brace for impact, but instead of pain—a new voice yelled.
“Don’t move.”
Rachel almost cried out at the sound of Tucker’s voice, but the sound caught in her throat as cold steel was pressed to her forehead.
She didn’t know where he was, or if he could see her. She only knew there was a gun pressed to her head. She tried to see. Willed her eyes to work.
She could make out Dymon crouched above her, the gun pressed to her forehead. If she kicked out... He might shoot, but he might fall instead. They were on a hill. She just needed to place the kick in the right spot. Somehow.
“Rachel,” Tucker’s voice was very calm, and closer than it had been. “Do you remember what I told you about fighting?”
“She can’t fight,” the man said disgustedly. “I’m going to put a bullet through her brain. Then yours. Drop the gun.”
“She’s the only one who knows where it is,” Tucker said, his voice so calm and...lethal. She might have shivered in fear if he weren’t the only one who could help her survive this. “The evidence you’re after. She’s the only one.”
Rachel thought about what Tucker had said about fighting. He’d told her to always go for the crotch. She just needed to kick the man in the crotch. She could figure out that general area, as long as she could position her body accordingly, she could do it.
“Curtis knows where it’s at. I could kill her and—”
“I’m sorry, Rach. I know I promised never to lie to you again. So I won’t. Duke died in the explosion.”
Rachel jerked. It was a physical pain, even as she worked through what he’d actually said. He’d never promised not to lie to her. In fact, he had promised the opposite. So, Tuck was lying now? He had to be. He was supposed to get Dad out. There was no way Dad was dead. No way.
Please, God.
She didn’t focus on the words. On what Dymon and Tucker continued to argue about. She focused on the shadowy outline of the man. Where best to kick. Her aim just had to be right.
Or she was dead. And so was Tucker.
* * *
TUCKER COULD SEE Rachel trying to figure out the angle. Slowly, he began to crouch, acting as if he were going to put his gun down. He held one hand up in mock surrender, slowly inching his gun closer and closer to the ground.
He needed Rachel to kick, just one kick even if it wasn’t in line would push the guy back. The hill would help with momentum, the gun would go up and Tucker could get a shot off.
All as long as the other guy didn’t pull that trigger first.
“That explosion shouldn’t have killed anyone,” the man finally said after a long tense silence.
Tucker had seen enough of the wreckage to understand where the explosives had detonated. So he had to lie and hope for the best. “Only if everyone was in the front of the house. The basement is another story, and I had a man in there getting Duke out. They’re both dead.”
He hoped the lies would give Rachel some comfort that Duke wasn’t actually dead. That no one was.
Unless McMillan had died of his gunshot wound.
“What’s the point of an explosion that doesn’t kill anyone, anyway? And you clearly had an in with North Star. Why not take Duke and get what you’re after?”
“I could have,” the man agreed with a sickening sneer. “But that doesn’t finish the job from twenty years ago, does it?”
“This does, though.”
All three of them jerked at the sound of Duke’s voice, but it didn’t last long, since Duke immediately fired a shot that had the man falling to the ground. Lifeless.
“Dad?” Rachel asked tremulously.
Tucker was already halfway to her, but since Duke had come up from the direction of the road, he was closer. He was murmuring to Rachel and untying the bonds on her hands so Tucker took the ones on her feet.
“Dad.” They wrapped their arms around each other, so Tucker gave them a moment by making sure the other man was dead.
Tucker couldn’t find a pulse, but he still pulled the gun out of his hand and the knife out of his boot. They weren’t out of the woods yet, even if they’d managed to end one threat.
“We have to get out of here,” Tucker said reluctantly, since Rachel was still clinging to Duke. “I can’t imagine he was working alone.”
“He’s not. He was talking to someone about dragging me to the car. Is everyone at North Star all right? He shot McMillan. I...” Her hands were shaking, but Duke took them in his. Rachel kept talking. “When Shay took me in, they had this guy. Dymon is his name. He... I recognized his voice, from my dream.”
“He’s the guy?” Tucker looked at Duke for confirmation, and got a slight nod.
Tucker swore. She’d been kidnapped twice by the same man.
“I had to tell McMillan. I didn’t think he understood how dangerous he was. So I tapped Morse code into his palm. Then he...this Dymon guy, he shot McMillan. It was so close and McMillan has to be dead, doesn’t he?” Rachel asked, trying to wipe at her face, wet with tears. Tucker crouched next to her and used the hem of his shirt to wipe the rest of them away and clean her up a bit. She gave him a small smile.
Tucker could feel Duke’s disapproving gaze, but they didn’t have time for that.
“Shay dragged him out. They were getting him medical attention. He might make it.” Probably a bit overly optimistic, but Tucker was willing to give her that in this moment. She’d used Morse code and... God, she was a wonder, but they had to get out of here. “Is there a car down at the road?”
“Yes. Not too far. I didn’t see anyone else.” Duke helped Rachel to her feet. Tucker flanked her on the other side. The ground was hilly, uneven, and helping Rachel toward the road was no easy task. She stumbled a few times, but they both held her up.
Through the trees, Tucker could begin to make out the road, but it wasn’t as deserted as it should have been.
“Get down,” Tucker hissed, pulling Rachel to the ground as he ducked for cover behind a swell of earth.
“What is it?” Rachel asked.
“Three men and another car aside from the one Duke drove.” Tucker moved so he could get another glimpse. Two men were circling the car Duke had parked in the ditch, and one of them was on his phone. “I need a better look.”
Rachel’s grip on his arm tightened. “No. You’re not going anywhere. Let’s just head back to North Star. I know I was unconscious, but it can’t be that far.”
Tucker didn’t want to tell her there wasn’t much of North Star left, but more importantly he wanted the opportunity to capture these
men who were clearly in on the explosion and kidnapping attempt. The last thing anyone needed was them roaming free—to come after Duke or Rachel again, or whatever else was in their plans.
“Just give me five minutes. Stay put right here.” He tugged his arm out of Rachel’s grasp and had to trust Duke to keep her there and quiet.
He moved in silence, using trees and rocks and swells of land as cover, until he was close enough to see the three men. Tuck could hear them talking, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. He considered getting closer, but with Duke and Rachel not that far away, it wasn’t worth the risk.
Knowing he had to get them out of harm’s way first, he carefully climbed his way back toward Duke and Rachel.
“Just the three men, but definitely waiting for their guy here to show up with Rachel.”
“Vianni,” Duke said disgustedly.
“No, they aren’t Vianni men. Those are Sons men.”
“You recognize them?” Duke asked.
“Got files on all three. The one on the right got off on a rape case because of a technicality. The one in the middle is my suspect on a murder case, but I don’t have anything beyond circumstantial evidence and the prosecutor won’t issue a warrant. The third has been in and out of jail for dealing drugs, armed robbery, you name it.”
“Gotta love the legal system,” Duke muttered. “What do we do, then? Pick them off?”
Tucker shook his head. “Too risky. They’ve got three guys, and three more high-powered weapons than we’ve got. Even if I use that guy’s gun.” Tucker glanced at Rachel. She wouldn’t agree to this plan, but he didn’t feel right trying to make it behind her back either. “Take her back.”
“I will not—”
Duke spoke right over her. “What are you going to do?”
“They’re accessory to kidnapping, possibly that explosion. I can arrest them.”
“On your own, boy? Three against one isn’t the best odds.”
Tucker pulled out his phone. “I’ll even the odds, then.”
