No Chance

by Christy Reece

  With a sob of thanksgiving, she threw herself into his arms. He held her close, whispered gruff words she couldn’t hear for the roaring in her ears. With a soft sigh, she let unconsciousness take over again.

  His heart in his throat, Gabe scooped Skye into his arms. Myriad emotions came to the surface, not the least of them was panic. Had she passed out from fear or something more deadly? Stalking back into the room, Gabe laid her on the bed.

  “Is she all right?” Cole called from the doorway.

  Pressing his fingers to the pulse at her neck, he sighed. “Yeah, I think so. Her pulse is slow but steady.”

  “You need me to stay?”

  “No. Go see if you can find Kendra. I’ll hide Skye and be right behind you.”

  Gabe heard the door close as Cole moved on. Brushing the hair from her face, he noted a multitude of new bruises on her creamy skin. Harrington would pay for each and every one of them.

  Still uneasy about her unconsciousness, Gabe lifted her eyelid. Her eye was slightly dilated and glazed. The bastard had drugged her.

  “Skye, can you hear me?”

  She moaned slightly and whispered his name.

  “That’s right, Skye. It’s me. But I need you to wake up, sweetheart. I need to find Kendra and Harrington. I need your help.”

  As if her eyelids were weighted, Skye blinked slowly. Gabe could tell she was struggling to wake up and whispered encouragement to her. “Help me, Skye. We need to find Kendra. Wake up, baby.”

  Her eyes opened halfway; his heart flipped over when she whispered, “I thought I’d lost you again.”

  Pressing a soft kiss to her bruised mouth, he whispered, “Never again. I promise.”

  Her eyes widened more as if she realized what had happened. She struggled to sit up. Gabe held her shoulders to help her.

  She leaned against the headboard. “I saw Kendra. The bastard took her away again. But she’s alive.”

  “Good. Any idea how many people Harrington has here?”

  “I’ve seen three, but there may be more.”

  “Cole’s looking for Kendra. I need to go help him. I’m going to leave you here and lock you in. You’ll be fine until—”

  “No, Gabe. I’m going with you. I need to help.”

  “Like hell. You’re injured and have drugs in your system. I’ll be able to work better knowing you’re safe.” He squatted down so he could get closer to her face. “Promise me, Skye. Promise you’ll stay here.”

  She blew out a sigh and nodded. “Okay.”

  With one last kiss to her lips, Gabe stood. Pulling a gun from the holster at his ankle, he handed it to her. “If anyone other than Cole, myself, or Kendra comes in, don’t hesitate. Don’t ask questions. Shoot. And I mean to kill. Go for the biggest target. The chest. Got it?”

  She nodded again and whispered, “Please be careful.”

  Gabe stalked to the door and then stopped for one last glance at the most beautiful woman in the world. “I have a lot to live for, Skye.” He opened the door slowly and looked out. Saw nothing. He turned the knob and closed the door, locking Skye inside. If someone wanted in, the lock wouldn’t hold them. But it would give Skye enough time to raise her gun and shoot.

  “Cole, you there?”

  “Yeah.” Cole’s voice came as a whisper. “I’m on the second floor. Took two out, a man and woman. No sign of Harrington or Kendra.”

  “Okay. I’ll finish the first floor, then I’m headed for the basement.”

  “I’ll meet you there once I’m through.”

  The layout of the house was a choppy array of rooms. The furnishings were scarce in most of the rooms, nonexistent in others. Apparently those who lived here didn’t care about the finer things of life like sofas and television sets.

  Gabe came to the kitchen and stopped abruptly. A man standing in the middle of the room held a milk jug to his mouth and was gulping sloppily. A bag of cookies sat on the table in front of him. His gun pointed directly at the man’s big gut, Gabe gave him an opportunity to get a mouthful and then said, “Got milk?”

  Milk sprayed everywhere as the man sputtered and spewed. His eyes wide as saucers, he made a grab for the gun sitting beside the cookies.

  “Touch the gun and we’re going to have a milk-and-cookies mess all over the floor.”

  The man drew his hand back. “I don’t have anything to do with what goes on here. I just got hired last week.”

  “Sorry to put you out of work so soon.” Gabe waved his gun at the refrigerator. “Get over there.”

  The man gave a longing glance at his gun and then went to stand in front of the fridge.

  Pulling handcuffs from his pocket, Gabe tossed them at the man. “Handcuff yourself to the handles.”

  The man caught the cuffs, inserted them through the double door handles of the fridge and freezer. Then, wrapping them around his wrists, he clicked them shut.

  Gabe took the gun from the table and slid it in the small of his back. “How many are here?”

  “Two or three. People are coming and going all the time. It’s hard to keep up.”

  “And how many girls are here?”

  The man’s eyes skittered away guiltily. Like hell he didn’t know what was going on here.

  “I asked you a question.”

  He shrugged. “Two, maybe three girls.”

  “Where are they?”

  “If I tell you, will that get me some kind of immunity?”

  “No. What it’ll get you is one less bullet hole in your leg. Now, tell me.”

  The man’s mouth crimped; apparently deciding he’d just soon take his chances on not talking. Gabe cursed himself. Honesty was rarely the best policy with scum. He should have promised full immunity or what ever they said on television shows to get people to talk.

  Gabe knew he wasn’t much for subtlety. Pulling his knife from its sheath at his belt, he stalked over to the handcuffed man. “Okay, I can’t really shoot you because it’d be too loud. However, I don’t mind slicing you up a bit.”

  He eyed the knife nervously, swallowed audibly, and said, “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Wrong words to say to a man who’d had a fairly shitty day. Pulling tape from a pouch hooked to his belt, he ripped off a piece and slapped it over the man’s mouth. His hand wrapped around the handle, Gabe thrust the knife into the meaty part of the guy’s upper thigh.

  A muffled scream of pain and rage quickly followed.

  “You believe me now?” Gabe asked quietly.

  Tears poured from the man’s eyes as his head nodded in frantic little jerks.

  Gabe pulled the tape halfway off so the creep could talk. “Where are the girls?”

  “In the basement,” the man gasped out.

  “And how many men are there, really?”

  He sobbed pitifully, “I told you, three or four. I don’t really know.”

  “Uh-huh, you told me two or three. Want me to go for the other leg … maybe a little higher up this time?”

  “Okay … well, I’m telling the truth now … three or four.”

  When Gabe pulled out his knife again, the man swallowed and said, “I’m telling you the truth, man … really.”

  “Okay, I believe you. If I find out different, I’m coming back. Next time I won’t be so nice—I’ll be cutting off one of your favorite parts. Got it?”

  The man gulped some air and said, “Okay … well, maybe there’s two or three more men and one woman. As I said … it’s hard to keep up with all their comings and goings.”

  Gabe gave his a nod of approval. “Good.”

  He slapped on another piece of tape and stalked out the door. “Cole … you hear that?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got two more rooms to check and then I’ll meet you down there.”

  Gabe turned to a door connected to the kitchen and opened it. A stairway led downstairs. He turned back and looked at the man, who was doing his best to jerk the handle from the refrigerator door. Figuring he’d be pulling the tape o
ff and screaming his head off, Gabe went back to him.

  The man’s eyes widened; he probably thought Gabe was going to live up to his promise to cut something off. Feeling no need to reassure him, Gabe raised his gun and conked the man on the head. The guy slumped over.

  Satisfied he wouldn’t be making any noises for a good while, Gabe headed down the stairs. Gun at the ready, he reached the bottom and peeked around the wall.

  Blood boiling and gut churning, he was in the middle of the room before he even realized it. The horror of what he saw there was almost more than he could comprehend.

  twenty-seven

  Skylar paced back and forth. The drugs were almost gone from her system, and all the anger and determination to save Kendra and help Gabe had returned. She’d promised him she would stay put, but something told her she needed to leave. That gut feeling she’d learned to heed told her something was going down and someone needed her help. Kendra or Gabe? It didn’t matter. She had to help.

  Holding the gun securely the way Gabe had showed her, Skylar put her ear to the door. She heard nothing. Unlocking it as silently as possible, she opened it slowly and peered out. Heard no noises … saw no one.

  Praying she wasn’t making a major mistake, Skylar closed the door behind her and headed in the direction she’d heard Gabe take.

  The house was ominously quiet. She stopped in the kitchen and sighed. An unconscious man was handcuffed to the refrigerator. Somehow she got the idea that her husband had been by this way. A door on the other side of the kitchen stood open. Tiptoeing toward the door, Skylar peeked inside. An empty stairway leading downstairs.

  Both hands wrapped around the handle of the gun, Skylar crept down the stairs.

  An odd noise hit her ears. She froze at the sound. Someone crying? Taking the steps quicker, she came to the bottom step and listened intently. Yes, crying … and more than one person. Sticking her head around the wall ever so gingerly, Skylar peeked. And lost all breath.

  The basement was one gigantic room. There were six queen-sized beds, three on each side of the room. Thick curtains hung in between the beds, but they were all pulled back, revealing rumpled bedclothes and their occupants. Young girls. Haggard. Drugged. Ravaged.

  And there was Gabe. Squatted down, several feet away from two young girls who were holding each other, sobbing pitifully. She heard his voice, low and soothing, as he apparently tried to comfort them. His distance from them indicated he was afraid to get too close in case they deemed him a threat.

  Skylar must have made a sound, because Gabe’s head jerked up. In his eyes, she saw a myriad of emotions. Compassion. Fury. Determination.

  “I told you to stay put.” Gabe’s voice was a low sound. He obviously didn’t want to startle the girls.

  Skylar shook her head as she made her way toward him. “I couldn’t, Gabe. Not when I thought I could help.”

  His eyes roaming over the room, Gabe said, “Thank God you don’t obey worth a damn. I have no idea what to say other than I’ll kill the bastards who did this to them.”

  “There’s not much to say. Other than we’re getting them out of here and they’ll be safe.”

  Nodding, he stood and said, “Stay here with them.” Giving her a stern look, he added, “And this time, please do what I say. I’m going after Harrington.”

  “Oh, there’s no need for that, Mr. Maddox. I’m right here.”

  Skylar and Gabe whirled around to find William Harrington once more pointing a gun at both of them.

  “I must admit, I’m a bit flabbergasted that you escaped my vault. I had it designed so air could be withdrawn to preserve my most precious belongings.” His eyes turned cold. “You should have died.”

  Gabe glared and started walking toward him. “You first.”

  William’s laugh came out like a long, dry hiccup. He was terrified and doing his best not to show it.

  Skylar backed away slowly as Gabe drew closer to William. They both had a gun. She looked down at her shaking hand. Make that all three of them had a gun.

  “I’ll give you two choices, Harrington. Drop your gun and surrender quietly or I’ll shoot you.”

  “I really don’t care for either choice, Mr. Maddox. How about I give you the same choices.”

  “I’ll admit, I’m not a math genius, but you’ve got two guns on you. In my estimation, that makes you doubly screwed.”

  “Look again,” William said softly.

  Suspecting a trick, Skylar dared a look behind her out of the corner of her eye. Now she knew why William had begun to look more confident. Two of the young girls held guns. One gun was pointed at Gabe, the other at Skylar.

  Gabe didn’t look surprised. Only angrier. “So you brainwashed these children into helping you.”

  “Children?” William snorted and jerked his head at the girl who held the gun on Gabe. “I picked Missy up in a whore house in Vermont. She was only too happy to move to nicer accommodations. And I got Lana off the street in New York. She took a bit more persuading, but she eventually came around.”

  Fury ignited within Skylar. Both girls couldn’t be more that nineteen and looked emaciated to the point of death. “You mean after you raped them a few times?”

  He shuddered delicately. “I’ve not touched these girls.”

  “What about Kendra?”

  An odd, eerie expression flashed in William’s eyes. Skylar’s stomach roiled at that look of absolute evil.

  “She’s special. A reward for the hard work I’ve put into this business. My jewel stays with me … pampered and treasured. The others are only here for training. Once they’re ready, they’ll go out and fulfill their real destiny.”

  “Training that includes raping and drugging them?”

  “Skylar.” William’s voice sounded as though he were instructing a not-too-bright child. “Nothing has been done to them that they haven’t let a hundred other men do.”

  “Other than taking away their right to choose.”

  “Rights? Oh my dear, you are so very naïve. Rights are only for those who have earned them.”

  Without conscious will, Skylar raised the gun in her hand and pointed it at the man she’d once thought of as a second father. “You are such a disgusting pig.”

  “I’m no different from any man trying to make it in this difficult economy. Times are tough. Taking care of my family is my primary responsibility. One I take very seriously.”

  “Do Margo or your children know about this?”

  William looked shocked that she would even ask such a question. “Well, of course they don’t, Skylar. I handle the finances for the family.”

  “How do you think they’d feel if they knew that their father was no better than a slave trader and a pimp?”

  A slight shrug. “Your insults have no effect on me. I’m much tougher than what you might think. Margo and my children know I do what I deem necessary to take care of them. And before you become so sanctimonious about these girls, think about what their life would be if I hadn’t found them. They have it better than if they were on the streets.”

  “You act as if you’re running some kind of charity.”

  “Oh no, my dear. There is no such thing as charity. We all pay a price.” He motioned at Lana, the girl who held a gun on Skylar. “Take the gun from Skylar.”

  Skylar knew only one thing. She could not give up her gun. Unsure how to go about that without hurting Lana, she shot a helpless glance at Gabe.

  Gabe gritted his teeth. What a fucked-up mess. Skye wouldn’t shoot the girl. Gabe didn’t want to shoot her either, but if she hurt Skye, he’d have no choice.

  Apparently, Harrington believed it was just Gabe and Skye in the house. Since the man’s back was to the stairway, he couldn’t see the size-fourteen shoes sticking out on the last step. Cole was there, waiting for Gabe’s signal.

  Now he just needed to figure out how to handle the situation without Skye or any of the girls getting hurt. All the girls, including the ones holding guns o
n them, were victims. If anyone had to die, it was going to be Harrington.

  Needing to get both girls unarmed, Gabe began to walk to Harrington again.

  Harrington backed up as his gun went higher. “Don’t come any closer.”

  Gabe stopped and held his hands up. “Guess you have us outnumbered after all.” Without taking his eyes off Harrington, Gabe said, “Skye, drop your gun, honey.”

  “But Gabe—”

  He dared a glance at her, nodded and gave her an encouraging smile. For an instant, her expression held both surprise and confusion. Gabe wasn’t a man of encouraging words and smiles. Snarls and glares were more his style. Once again, her faith in him humbled him to his soul as she stooped and dropped the gun onto the floor.

  Harrington nodded in approval. “Wise move, Skylar.” He jerked his head at Gabe. “Mr. Maddox, please kick your gun over to Lana so she can retrieve it.”

  Gabe kicked the gun so hard it flew past Harrington and landed behind him.

  Harrington glared. “Not funny.” He turned to Lana. “Pick up the gun.”

  Lana passed by Harrington and stooped to get the gun. With an almost unworldly quietness, Cole yanked her up and pressed a hand over her mouth and a hand on her neck just hard enough to cause unconsciousness. With utmost gentleness, he placed her on the stairway, out of sight.

  As if wondering why she was so silent, Harrington glanced back. Gabe flew toward him. At the same time, Cole reached Missy, who seemed frozen in shock.

  Gabe landed hard on Harrington and they crashed to the floor. The man held tight to the gun in his hand. Without any compunction, Gabe twisted his wrist until there was a loud bone pop.

  Harrington howled.

  Rage and glee combined into a surging mass of emotions as Gabe sat up and pummeled the man’s face and gut.

  Skylar’s soft voice in his ear finally penetrated the haze. He stood and looked down at the bloodied, unconscious man. Never in his life had he wanted to kill someone as much as he wanted to kill this bastard. Harrington had done despicable, vile things. He deserved death for each and every one of them. But for daring to hurt Skye, Gabe wanted to tear him from limb to limb.