by Zoe Dawson
She was helpless, bound, but the look on her face, that defiant, tough girl stance made his heart beat double time. He took a breath. If he gave up this information, they would be ambushed, and he’d have to live with it for the rest of his life. Ruckus, Scarecrow, Cowboy, Hollywood, Blue, Tank and Echo, and Wicked.
But they were Navy SEALs and battle was what they did. Live to fight, fight to live.
“Time’s up,” Anderson sneered. “What will it be?”
There was no contest here, no choice. He gave up the information. Betrayed them and took the hit against his honor, against his trident, against everything he’d ever stood for.
In that act of betrayal, he found what he was looking for. Found the answers to his questions once and for all. He might have followed in his father’s footsteps and gone into the SEALs because he was trying to be worthy of his father. But right here, right now, he made his own decision, was his own man and that decision was to be fearless, take batshit crazy to a new level.
He didn’t have a fucking death wish. He delivered death to the enemies of the country he served even and especially if they were her native sons. And, he met Paige’s stricken eyes, watched as tears slipped down her cheeks in wet tracks. He wanted to live. He wanted her to survive. And, in that moment, he understood Cris’s betrayal to save his family. Thought about that precocious little girl, the smart, charming boy, and his beautiful wife.
The big doors started to open and the tail end of a truck, its staccato beep warning it was backing up, pushed through the metal doorway.
They were loading the weapons, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. But he heard what the rebels said and tucked the intel into his head.
No matter what, they were going to all get out of this alive. He was going to see to it.
They started to load the boxes and the two rebels left. “Dean, she’s all yours.”
Every muscle in his body clenched. He met Paige’s eyes and his message was loud and clear though he never uttered a word. Stay alive, fight, win. Babe, I’m coming for you.
He stared Dean down, and Kid could tell he was scared of him. “You’re a dead man.”
Reggie cracked him from behind, right in the same motherfricking place he’d hit him before and pain exploded in a flash burst. He fell to his knees, but his eyes never left Dean’s as he backed away, his hand wrapped around Paige’s arm.
“Take them to the village. I don’t want any blood in the warehouse. Kill everyone. I’ll take care of the SEALs.” He turned to go. “Oh, and Reggie, save these two for me.”
Cris exploded from the floor and went for Anderson’s throat, screaming at him, but Reggie grabbed him from behind and wrestled him away. Cris continued to scream until Reggie hit him in the temple and Cris went out like a light.
Through it all, Kid watched as Dean dragged Paige away, and they disappeared out of the double doors.
The muzzle of the gun dug into his back, and Kid wanted to shove it— “Get up.”
He complied. He was eager to get back to the village where Cris’s family was being held, where that goon was taking Paige, where his brothers were coming in to kick ass. It was time to take back the night, and he was just batshit crazy enough to do it.
After forcing Kid into the back of an SUV, Reggie tossed Cris on top of him, shut the back door and got behind the wheel.
About fifteen minutes into the trip, Cris woke up. He groaned and looked at Kid. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do,” he said, his voice ragged and desolate.
Kid captured his battered gaze. “I do,” he said. “Pull yourself together. If you want to save your family. Do exactly as I say.”
Hope lit his eyes and his head came up. He nodded.
Dean had tried to engage her in conversation from the moment they got into the truck. He’d actually buckled her into the seat and that almost made her laugh. She knew what he was planning the moment he got her to the village, and it wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t going to allow him to take something she wasn’t willing to give. Her body belonged to another man, her heart his. She couldn’t help but wonder if she had focused more on the job and less on Kid Chaos if this would have ended up differently. But now they were all in mortal danger. Dean just as big a psycho as Anderson, and hellbent on taking what he’d wanted from her the moment she’d met him.
He kept squeezing her leg, sliding his hand too close to her groin, but going no further. She couldn’t help wondering if it was because of Kid’s threat. That look on his face…my God, she got scared and nervous from those deep blue pools broadcasting mayhem, promising pain, delivering retribution.
She couldn’t believe he’d given up the coordinates for her, for Cris’s family.
She took a breath, reminded herself to stay calm, to stay focused, to not give in to the wave of panic trying to wash over her. Men like him underestimated a woman, every time, but she wasn’t just a woman. She was a seasoned NCIS agent and this POS wasn’t going to intimidate her.
After the interminable ride where she’d wanted to throttle him several times for touching her again and again, she was ready to scream. He parked the truck and came around and got her out. Dragging her toward one of the small huts, she started counting down in her head. When they reached the door, and he pulled her inside, she turned and hooked his ankle. With a deft swing of her leg, he went down in a very satisfying tangle of arms, legs, and automatic gun. She turned toward the door and started to run.
She got all of ten feet before she was hit from behind.
“Not that easy, wild cat,” he said with a laugh, “I like them feisty.”
He dragged her back, and when he got there, he threw her on the bed.
Advancing on her, he climbed on top of her and got into her face. “Fun times.” He pulled out a knife. “Did I also say that I liked it when they screamed? Pain and fucking go so well together…don’t you think?”
Dean’s dark gaze held hers, and there was no mercy there.
15
The second the back of the SUV released and before it had fully retracted, Kid grabbed the big man’s wrist pushing the semi-auto down and away from their bodies even as he slammed the palm of his right hand straight up under Reggie’s chin. He felt the bone give way, and he was betting he’d broken the bastard’s jaw. The gun fired—too late to do the man any good. From the angle, Kid knew the bullet went into the bumper of the car.
He'd had plenty of time to use a maneuver to break apart the flex cuffs and free himself. Then he’d released Cris. He was ready when they stopped. It was a fight for their lives.
He kicked backward at Reggie, connecting with the man’s torso, the subgun flying out of his grip and landing somewhere in the shadows. Cris went for him before Kid could stop him, and Reggie backhanded him to the ground. Dazed, Cris worked at trying to get up. But Reggie dismissed him, he knew where his mortal opponent stood ,and his attention went back to Kid, his look as heavy as a charging bull elephant. With a flash of white teeth against the dark skin of his face, he pulled out a knife, the kind of knife Kid loved.
“Let’s see what you got, commando.”
Long, sharp, the edge honed to a killing edge, glinting in the moonlight. Yeah, he had knife envy. As soon as he took that knife, he was gutting the bastard.
Kid blocked his first strike and, at the apex of Reggie’s next swing he instinctively went for control, grabbing the man’s wrist and using his leverage to swing the merc around and slam him into the side of the SUV.
With that maniacal grin on his face, Reggie rushed Kid, his bigger bulk knocking him into the side of the car. Backed up against the vehicle, Reggie bore down with the knife, his muscles bulging, sweat breaking out on his brow. He pressed his arm closer, bringing his hand nearer and nearer Kid’s neck, pushing hard, forcing the knife toward Kid’s jugular. The guy was bulldozer strong, like a freaking machine.
Fuck.
Kid kneed him, threw an elbow strike, blocked an incoming punch…and kept holding
the knife at bay, twisting Reggie’s wrist and forcing the lethal tip in another direction.
He took a blow to the body, and then another. Mustering his strength, he slammed Reggie even harder into the SUV, but the merc wasn’t one of those CIA spooks. He was a warrior, and his blows came fast and hard, one after the other, each one a pile driver. The bastard caught him up the side of the head, and pain shot through Kid like a whip crack. Then another strike came at him sharp and fast and deep.
Fuck.
He knocked Reggie’s next blow away and twisted under the man’s other arm, bringing it over his shoulder and jerking it down hard, leveraging it against Reggie’s elbow and having the satisfaction of feeling the joint give way.
Reggie let out a surprised grunt.
The knife fell to the ground from his suddenly nerveless fingers.
But even as Kid went for the knife, Reggie’s good arm snaked around his throat, holding on tight, squeezing him hard and dragging him down to the ground where Cris was struggling back to a sitting position, pulling himself up against the SUV, his eyes glazed with pain.
He curled his legs around Kid’s thighs, his hold punishing. Kid worked at his forearm, but it was huge and sweaty, hard to get his fingers around it.
He struggled and bucked, but was unable to break his hold as the edges of his consciousness went gray.
He was gasping for breath, the pressure against his throat pinching off oxygen, his struggles using up whatever stores he had. He reached down, frantically searching for the knife. When his fingers curled around it, he was almost out of time. He jammed the business end into Reggie’s thigh. The big man howled and let him go, but grabbed the back of his head and slammed Kid’s head against the side of the vehicle.
Kid bounced off, disoriented and reeling, his vision graying again. If he passed out, it was all going to be over. But Reggie despite the broken joint and the upper thigh laceration, was on the move. He grabbed up the knife and climbed onto Kid who was prone on his back. He pinned Kid’s arms down with his knees, his weight pinning him.
He raised the knife. “I guess Bryant is going to be disappointed.”
He had seconds to live.
Sonuvabitch.
He tried to twist clear, heaving his body up and out from under, but he was bucking a solid two-forty hulk off his chest, and that goddamn knife was going to pierce his heart before he could do a damn thing.
Except, a shot rang out.
From where he was, buried under Reggie’s bulk, he heard the gun go off, loud and cracking, an explosion of sound. He felt Reggie’s body jerk hard and then slump on top of him, felt the violent dynamic energy of the merc’s whole being still reaching for him, still in the fight despite his broken elbow joint, and then he felt Reggie collapse, all the fight and energy draining out of him in an instant.
He dragged himself out from under the limp body and immediately snatched up the knife. He saw Cris, the rifle’s muzzle smoking, Cris’s battered and bruised face full of rage.
Impressed with his steadiness and his recovery enough to actually pick up the weapon and hit the guy in the dark made him one lucky Navy SEAL. “Good shot,” he said and with a tight-lipped mouth, Cris nodded.
Reggie’s breathing was ragged, and he clutched at his lower abdomen. He knelt down in front of the guy, bringing them face to face, and pressed the tip of his blade into the side of Reggie’s neck. The guy knew what came next.
“You can bleed out here in this jungle, Reggie,” Kid said. “Or you can tell me where Cris’s family is.” His tone was flat and empty and Reggie could read him loud and clear. It was in his fierce black gaze and in the strength he was using to keep from showing any weakness.
Yeah, Kid figured Reggie was considering his ultimatum very seriously.
Not as dumb as he looked.
Reggie was thinking, staring at him, and struggling with the pain that had to be exploding through him, blood seeping through his fingers.
Now it was time for him to think about betrayal and what he needed to do. Anderson wasn’t just a boss to Reggie, that had been clear to Kid. He was his friend and they were close. Anderson trusted him explicitly.
Good.
“It’s a one-time, limited offer,” Kid said, pressing the blade in a little deeper. Then Cris walked up and set the muzzle against Reggie’s forehead. A few days ago, Kid would have thought this man wouldn’t hurt a fly, but all bets were off when Cris’s family was in danger.
“Where. Is. My. Family!” Cris put his finger on the trigger and Reggie said, “Last hut down the end of the street.”
Kid opened his mouth to ask about Paige, but Reggie collapsed, his eyes rolling up into his head until only the whites were showing, all the tension going out of his body.
Kid stood. He had only moments to save everyone. Cris’s family, Paige, and his brothers in arms. He was torn, then he closed his eyes. The SEALs could take care of themselves. They had signed up for this, even as guilt and anguish washed through him. Paige, more anguish, worse, deep, penetrating. She was a federal agent, and she also knew how to handle herself, but Cris’s wife, his two children were total innocents, caught up in horrible, terrifying circumstances. If he didn’t get them out before the shooting started…they were going to die.
Torn in three different directions, Kid growled out his pain.
“Let’s go get them,” he said, and dipped down to search Reggie. He pulled out the SUV’s keys. “Get in and drive it down to the end of this lane as close to the hut there. See where I’m pointing?”
“Yes. Thank you for doing this. Even after I got you into this terrible mess. Betrayed you.”
“Look, we don’t have time for confessions and redemption right now, Cris. Paige is still out there and my friends are on their way here.”
“Right. Okay.” Kid took the semi-automatic out of Cris’s hands and after another search found three more magazines.
Cris started up the engine and Kid was on the move. He crouched low and ran along the crude fence line of piled stone. The sheep baaed as he passed them, nervously moving around in their pens. There were plenty of rebels in this area, he was just lucky they were preoccupied with the arrival of the SEALs and too far away to worry about a couple of gunshots. He came around the back of the hut and carefully peered into the window. There were three rebels, one was harassing Ariane, the two children huddled in the corner, Riky holding his sister, both of them terrified. They had ripped Jhosselin’s little pink coat, there was dirt on her face, tracks from her tears. His jaw clenched, all his protective instincts mixed in with the rage. Bastards.
He couldn’t help it. He wondered if his father had gone through the same kind of dilemma, caught between saving the SEALs that had died with him or the family.
Kid had an added layer of stress. Paige. He was compelled to go after her, almost to the point of pain, but he knew what his duty was here. She knew what his duty was as well. She would agree. He knew it down to his soul.
But, if he lost her…he cleared his mind. He couldn’t think about this, not about her, not about his father. Kid would do what his own heart and mind told him to do.
He slipped up over the sill and vaulted into the room, bam, the first one went down, bam, bam the second tango was blown away, and Kid turned just as the third brought up his rifle. But Kid was faster and a much better shot. The guy never even got his finger on the trigger.
Cris burst through the door. Ariane cried out his name and ran to him. Kid rushed to the kids and picked up the little girl, who bit her lip but didn’t dissolve into tears. Brave little thing. Grabbing Riky’s hand, he said. “Let’s go.”
They ran to the SUV. Pulling open the door, he ushered Riky in and while he was setting little Jhosselin in the seat, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. Ariane was already pulling her own door closed. “Get out of here and don’t stop for anything.”
“Good luck!” Cris said as Kid closed the door on the sweet family and then Cris gunned the engine, the tir
es tearing up loose stones and grass. He barreled out of the small village.
Kid turned toward the rest of the huts. Paige was in one of them, but he had to take out the rest of the rebels. They were going to eliminate any witnesses.
He refused to have that blood on his hands.
He shouldered the strap, pushing the gun to his back and pulled out Reggie’s beautiful knife. Stepping forward, he melted into the shadows and disappeared. It was time to go on the hunt.
Hang on, babe, I’m coming for you.
Paige’s hands were free, the flex cuff had snapped from the force of her fall and her weight and Dean’s coming down on top of it.
Three successive gunshots went off, all in a row. That was five altogether, but it was clear Dean was antsy. He raised his head and turned it toward the window. “Ashe is coming for you,” she whispered.
Fear swam in his eyes before he pushed off her, slapping her hard across the face. The stinging pain thundered into her cheek, watering her eyes.
He went to the window. Paige rose off the bed and shook out her arms and hands, rolling her tingling shoulders.
Then she took two breaths and let them out. Dean turned and looked at her, then did a double take. His eyes narrowed when he saw her unbound, but not running, just standing there.
He brought up the gun, and Paige said calmly. “You need a gun to handle a woman, Dean?” Then she made soft clucking noises. His gaze narrowed even further, the bravado of his ego taking over his common sense. She was banking on that and this asshole didn’t disappoint her. Men like him liked to think they were superior to women. Hurting them? That was just one of his perks. Once again, he underestimated her. It was going to be his fatal mistake.
She was an NCIS agent, and she’d had the best training money could buy.
He set the gun against the wall and chuckled. “You wanna spar, missy? Let’s see what you’ve got.”
She raised her hands into a fighting stance and smiled coldly. “No, let’s see what you’ve got.”
