by D. D. Ayres
He tightened his fingers on the steering wheel, tearing through the dark well above the posted speed limit.
For the past four days, Cole had been under constant, if distant, surveillance by him. He couldn’t be spotted shadowing her. For a change, the authorities agreed: X wasn’t going to back off. He was just waiting for his next opportunity. Though there was no obvious gain in his need to hurt, humiliate, and harass Scott, they doubted X would cease until he was once again locked up.
Cole’s night duty made her the likely target. Alone, after dark, patrolling lonely areas with Hugo. X wouldn’t be able to resist.
Cole was more than happy to be their bait.
Scott had had his doubts. But DEA and the Montgomery County Police Department were in agreement to let her try. Scott fought for and won a spot on the surveillance team. He was the only agent assigned to devote full-time to surveillance. He had to be in on the takedown. This time, he wouldn’t let Cole down.
Hugo pushed his muzzle through the opening, whining as he gazed at Scott. “I know how you feel, big fella. We’ll get our chance. I promise you.”
To keep himself focused, Scott went over in his mind what he knew. Cole was a professional law-enforcement officer and should have been able to hold her own against X until backup arrived.
She was supposed to signal for help the moment she spotted him. Why hadn’t she signaled them as planned? And why had Hugo not been released?
The van. X wasn’t working alone this time.
Scott shoved aside all thoughts about what that might mean. His gaze went to the GPS. Her signal was still moving. He would find her. He and Hugo would save her. That was the only scenario he could allow his mind to entertain.
And when he got his hands on X …
* * *
Cole didn’t know how long she was out. Her head pounded. Her stomach heaved with every jolt and buck of the van flooring beneath her. Her arms were tied behind her, allowing her to bounce helplessly as the vehicle suddenly swerved when someone up front shouted, “Turn here.”
She bit back a moan as she rolled over, not wanting anyone to know she was conscious. She ignored the taste of blood in her mouth and tested her bonds. They had used plastic handcuffs, pulled so tight her fingers tingled. She opened her eyes a slit as she tried to assess her situation. Think and assess.
She was no longer wearing her tactical belt. She lay flat on her stomach. No way to tell if they had taken the gun strapped to her ankle. Probably. They were efficient. She rolled a little to the right and left as the van left smooth paved road for rough gravel. Nothing in her pockets. No cell. No badge.
She shivered, chilled by sweat from the fight. But she fought the fear threatening to close over her head. She wasn’t alone. She was under surveillance. The police, and Scott, would arrive soon. Meantime, she had to stay alive.
What did she know? She heard two men’s voices. She didn’t get a good look at them, but she knew neither of them was X. And they weren’t amateurs. She’d been attacked and disarmed by men familiar with police and military tactics.
The van slowed. She lifted her head to try to see out but it was a panel van, no windows.
“Fuck it. He said there was a park here somewhere.”
“Turn off there. Yeah. There’s his hog.”
The van rolled to a stop but Cole continued to bounce in rhythm to shocks badly in need of replacement. She choked on the irony. As if it mattered whether or not the shocks in the van that snatched her were safe. She was not safe.
“She’s coming round.” Someone reached back and grabbed her ankle. A whimper escaped her as she kicked out in fear.
“Shit!” She was released.
Maybe she was making things worse for herself. How could it be worse?
She swallowed as the doors up front opened and slammed, and then the panel door was sliding back.
There was a click and light flooded the interior from a high-beam flashlight probably taken from her belt. “Out, bitch.”
Two pairs of hands reached for her. She cowered back in spite of herself. Then redoubled back on anger. She needed to stay angry. Fear was the enemy. Help was on the way. She had to think her way through the next minutes. Stay alive. That was all that was required.
They hauled her to her feet on grass and stepped back, two male silhouettes no more detailed than bulky shadows behind the high beam. They were taking no chances on being identified, if caught.
“Well, look who we got. Rhino’s bitch.”
Cole’s gaze jerked left. X stood several few feet away. Easier to see because he wasn’t behind the beam of light aimed at her. Confirmation of target. This was good.
What else? They were in a parklike area with grass and distant trees, and the sound of running water, and road traffic. They couldn’t have taken her far.
“You’ve abducted a police officer. This isn’t going to end well for you. You should let me go.”
X moved in on her quickly and grabbed her chin in a hard hand, jerking her face up to his. “You don’t get to talk until I say so. Open your mouth again and I’ll stuff it until you choke.”
Cole met his gaze. Straight-up bat-shit crazy. Nothing there to negotiate with.
He released her. “You get her gear?”
“What we could before we rolled her up.”
X looked back at her, a grin pressing back the rows of wrinkles in his cheeks until he looked like a Joker mask. “She’s a cop. She’ll be carrying concealed. Cut her hands loose but hold her.”
The plastic around her wrists came free as the two men each grabbed a wrist and hooked a foot behind each of hers, forcing her to a wide stance.
Cole gritted her teeth, not wanting to give X the satisfaction of her fear. But the men holding her had to feel the shivers rocking her.
Then she stood taut between them as X moved in to frisk her. He found her ankle holster and removed it. She didn’t fight that. Even when his hand slid up between her thighs she looked straight ahead, giving away none of the revulsion she felt. His hand moved to the apex of her thighs. He cupped her mons and squeezed, hard. “I’m going to do a cavity check next. You know what that means.”
Cole bit her broken lip, tasted more blood. Her heart beat in strokes so heavy she shook with each one.
Help was coming. Stay alive. Lots of variations on what “alive” meant. Sooner would be better than later.
She thought she heard a siren in the distance. That wouldn’t be surprising. The men around her didn’t seem to think so, either.
“Bring her along.”
They half carried, half dragged her farther into the clearing of the deserted park. In the distance the hiss of traffic could be heard but the streetlights didn’t penetrate very far. Only the yellowish glow of the sky overhead reassured her that they were still in a suburban environment. Yet they were enveloped in darkness so dense no idle passersby would notice them.
They pulled her into the ring of light made by the headlights of the van.
X moved to within six feet of her. “Free up the bitch.”
After they had stripped her of her belt and Kevlar vest worn under her uniform shirt, Cole was let go so quickly she stumbled and had to catch herself.
“Let’s party, bitch.”
She looked up at X. He held a wicked-looking knife in his hands.
She backed up instinctively but the two other men were behind her. One shoved her back toward X, careful to stay out of range of a kick or fist.
X moved in closer, the Ka-Bar blade reflecting silver-blue light off its edge. “The Pagans have a ritual. When a bitch becomes the property of a gang member she becomes gang property. You been banging Rhino, and he hasn’t shared. Tonight you get to pay his debt. Here’s how it’s done.”
Cole looked away and tried not to hear what he was saying because the words were too ugly. She knew they were going to give her nightmares even if she really didn’t listen hard.
He beckoned her with the edge of his blade. “S
tep over here and take off your clothes.”
“No.” Her response was pure instinct.
He stalked over to her and made a slashing movement. Cole didn’t feel a thing but her tee ribboned open from neck to waistline. “Take off your clothes.”
Cole’s teeth were chattering so hard she could barely make her mouth work as she gathered up her shirt. “Come over here and take them off.”
The smile that spread across X’s face changed him from a run-of-the-mill lunatic into a cold-blooded killer. “You just bought yourself a world of trouble.”
She took another backward step, preferring her odds with his friends. They laughed but gave her space. Wolves around a wounded prey, they smelled blood and were eager for more. Except she wasn’t prey. She wasn’t a sheep.
She looked up at him, using her will to survive to steady her nerves. “You kill a police officer, they will hunt you down.” This much, she knew was true.
“I ain’t gonna kill you.” X moved his blade back and forth in slow figure eights, like a magician trying to hypnotize a volunteer. “You’ll just wish you were dead.”
The push from behind sent her stumbling headfirst into X’s embrace, a grip that held a knife. She scrambled desperately to right herself before she reached him.
The blade passed over her shoulder and down, this time slicing through her sports bra. She refused to register the hit. Fisting a hand over his shirtfront, she brought her knee up as fast and hard as she could.
She pushed herself away from him as he doubled over in pain, knife slashing out wildly. The momentum sent her sprawling. The air went out of her in a hard push. Her eyes filled with dust and began to tear even as she tried to get to her knees.
She didn’t know which of them heard it first. Engines gunning through the night, and then the bounce of headlights through the trees as vehicles tore up the gravel road toward them.
* * *
The blip on the GPS had stopped moving five minutes ago, just about the time Scott’s spit dried up.
He was in southern Montgomery County, in a parkland, if one could call the wooded stretch between the main road and the embankment of the Potomac River a park.
As he swung around a curve in the unpaved road, the woods opened up into a broad stretch of grass. His headlights lit up a van. Beyond it, in the vehicle’s headlights, he saw a figure slumped on the ground with the letters MCPD on her back. Three men surrounded her, one holding a knife.
Scott sprang from the truck, leaving the door open, weapon drawn. “DEA! Drop your weapons! And get down on your knees!”
“Fuck this!” One man broke and ran back toward the van. The second man hesitated only a few seconds more before heading off in the darkness toward the trees. Neither of them interested Scott. He concentrated on X.
X grabbed Cole by the back of her shirt and pulled her up against his chest. He held a knife, oily with blood, to her throat.
Scott could see she was bleeding from her nose and mouth, and there was blood on her shirtfront. He swallowed down his emotion. None of that was important until the scene was secured. He steadied his gun as he moved slowly forward. He might get only one shot off. “Let her go, X. You got what you wanted. I’m here.”
“Shit. You want me to do her first then deal with you? I’ll do it. I will do it.”
“I’m not going to give up my gun. You know why. You were Blue, too, Officer Harney.”
“Fuck you! I was SOG. And now Pagan. You weren’t ever one of us.”
Scott glanced back as the van spun out behind him. If he were going to be run over— No, flashing police lights were spinning through the trees. Sirens erupted, splitting the silence.
X swung Cole around, fisted one edge of her shirt and brought his knife up to within inches of her face. “Ever wonder why they call me X?”
The deep guttural barking of an enraged canine coming at him full force jerked his gaze from her face.
Cole ducked, screaming, “Hugo! Fass! Schnell!”
The force of Hugo’s attack knocked both of them off their feet. She heard X cry out as Hugo’s powerful jaws closed over his arm. She grabbed for his knife hand but he threw her off. And then the awful sound of Hugo yelping in pain.
The knife. Cole scrambled to her feet as Scott reached her. “Oh God. Hugo!”
X had regained his feet and sprinted toward his bike.
Scott lifted his weapon but Hugo had regained his footing and was tearing after the biker. He didn’t doubt Hugo’s ability to close the distance.
He looked down at Cole. “How badly are you hurt?”
She shook her head though her hand was clamped over her arm. “Help Hugo.”
“Stay here.” Scott took off on foot after man and dog.
X swung a leg over his bike and rolled the throttle. As he began to move Scott cursed. But Hugo moved into overdrive.
As X came around, intending to head for cover in the trees, Hugo launched his heavy black body at the driver. The weight and momentum dropped the bike.
Scott heard a scream as the bike came down on X’s leg and then another as Hugo clamped down on his arm, growling and tugging and swinging as he held on for all he was worth.
When he reached them Scott stepped on X’s knife hand and pointed his gun at his head. “Don’t give me a reason.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“He’s going to be fine. The knife just scraped along his ribs. His heavy coat probably confused his attacker. He missed the gut.”
Cole clutched Hugo to her as the vet examined him. “Will he need stitches?”
“A few. And antibotics. Leave him with me overnight.”
“Only if you promise to take the best care of him. Anything he needs. He saved my life tonight.”
“He’ll have everything he needs, Officer Jamieson.” The vet patted her shoulder. “Now I insist you see about yourself, young lady.” He offered Scott a significant look over her head. “You’re bleeding all over my examining room.”
Scott had stood grimly to one side of Cole, arms folded, as Hugo was examined. Cole had insisted on bringing Hugo to the vet before she would even think about going to the hospital to be examined. But now that the vet had lifted Hugo out of her arms Scott saw with a surge of alarm that the front of her tee was soaked with blood that couldn’t be all Hugo’s.
“Damn, Jamieson. You’re hurt.”
He jerked off his windbreaker and wrapped it around her before picking her up in his arms and carrying her out to his truck.
Cole, released from worry about Hugo, snuggled in against him. “I like it when you get all angry alpha male.”
“Shut up. You’re woozy with blood loss. I can’t take advantage.” His voice was light but his expression was grim.
Scott drove to the emergency room with the same urgency he had driven to her rescue, one arm holding Cole tight against him while his cherry top flashed red through the night.
* * *
“Superficial wounds.” The ER doctor held Cole’s chart in his hand. “Officer Jamieson has lost blood and is in mild shock. We’re keeping her overnight but she’ll be fine.”
Scott nodded, his eyes hooded and expression nonactive. “What else?”
“We did a bit of suturing. Luckily we were able to pull in a plastics doc to do her cheek and the nose. It isn’t broken but she may want to see him again if it doesn’t heal to her liking.”
Scott swallowed. “Did he … are any of the wounds X’s?”
“Excuse me?”
Scott made two crossing slash marks with a finger.
“No, nothing like that. There’s a superficial cut down her sternum and one on her…” He paused. “Are you family?”
“Yes. Husband.” Scott doubted any of Cole’s colleagues standing nearby, who had rushed to hospital for moral support, would contradict him.
“Very well.” The doctor pulled him aside from the others before extracting a photo from the file he carried. “It looks worse than it is.”
Sco
tt saw with the professional, detached part of his mind that the cuts on Cole’s exposed chest were superficial. Her battered face had been cleaned up. He knew the bruising and swelling would subside. But the primitive, protect-my-mate instinct was harder to convince. “Was the suspect also brought here?”
“Yes. The police brought him in first, about an hour ago. He’s suffering from a crushed leg, exhaust-pipe burns, and two serious dog bites.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping he was really hurt.”
Scott turned and walked away from the gaping gaze of the dedicated caregiver.
* * *
“I’ll look like Frankenstein in a bikini.”
Scott’s eyes lit up. “A bikini. There’s an image.”
Cole rolled her head on the pillow away from him, toward the window of her hospital room. After a moment, a sound suspiciously like a sob broke the silence.
“You’re not crying?” Scott’s stomach hit the floor. He came around on the other side of the bed. “Cole?”
She shut her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at him.
“Cole!” Her eyes opened.
He was standing over her, still wearing his clothes from the night before. He wore a navy T-shirt stained with her blood, a weary expression, wary gaze, and a heavy stubble. He scrubbed his face with a hand. “I’m not good at this sort of thing. But, dammit, I don’t care if you look like you’ve been trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. I didn’t fall for a few unblemished inches of skin.”
“I’m not being vain.” Cole sucked in her lower lip and winced. It was twice its normal size.
Scott moved in beside her bed and took her hand. “You’re the most unvain person I know. Undies choice aside.” His heart did a flip when that drew a small smile from her. “So, you’ll have a few scars. Tiny scars,” he amended when she frowned. “The doctor said a plastics guy did your face. No scarring there.” He crossed his fingers out of her line of sight. “You brought down a bad guy. Helped catch puppy-mule drug smugglers. You deserve to have some proof of your courage. Would you rather have a tattoo?”
Cole watched with quiet eyes that intensified as he held her gaze. He knew she was seeing him as she first had, like he was the best man in the whole world. It scared him to see that. It was something he couldn’t live up to. But he was going to try. So help him God, he was going to try.
