Hold On Tight (Lazarus Rising Book 6)

by Cynthia Eden

  No, she wouldn’t. She’d planned that, too. “So you’ve been a spy in Savannah’s life all along?”

  “Someone had to keep watch. You would not believe the secrets in this town,” Megan all but purred. “Take her father, for example. I was barely on the case for a few weeks when I realized the guy practically oozed guilt. I got the proof I needed, did a little digging, and realized I could make myself some side cash.”

  Shit. “You killed Savannah’s father.” Because he was looking at a trained killer. Cold to the core.

  Megan shrugged. “If he’d just paid the hundred grand I wanted to keep quiet, I would have taken the money, and we could have all gone on with our lives. But the jerk started blustering about calling the cops, about clearing his conscience, and I couldn’t exactly let him call attention to me, now could I? Not when I was supposed to be the one flying under the radar.”

  So she’d put a bullet in Phillip’s brain. The same way she was about to fire a bullet into Sam’s head.

  Megan glanced at her watch. No, at the text that had just come through on her watch. “Time to move along.” She offered him a sunny smile. “Can you get to me fast enough?” Megan asked as she tilted her head and looked down at Sam. “Before I pull the trigger?”

  She was going to do it. Her stalling was over. Someone had just texted her a kill order.

  Jett leapt forward, surging toward her, racing with all of his power even as—

  Bam.

  Megan blinked, then looked down at her chest. Blood was already spreading to cover her shirt. “You…no weapon…”

  “It’s not his.” Jennifer rushed forward, breath heaving. “It’s mine. Sam took my car when the guy brought us here, and I always keep a spare weapon locked in my glove box.”

  Megan sprawled on the floor, the gun falling from her fingers.

  Jett kicked it out of the way. Looked over at Jennifer.

  “Sorry.” Her breathing was ragged, as if she’d been running too fast. “I, uh, had to break the window to get in my car, then had to break the lock on the glove box. That unconscious asshole we just saved—Sam still has my keys.”

  Jett put his fingers to Megan’s throat. Her pulse was weak. And the wound to the chest told him she wasn’t going to make it.

  “Get your ass moving,” Jennifer snapped. “Go find Savannah. I don’t get what’s happening here, but I’m seeing some trippy shit, and I’m scared for my friend. Get to her.”

  Without a word, he rushed for the back door. Fast.

  Jett raced into the alley, circling around the building. But when he headed out, a team was waiting. They lifted their weapons. Started shooting on sight. He leapt to the left, to the right, and felt a bullet slide over his shoulder. Felt it burn along his skin.

  Fuck it. Jett ran faster, jumping over garbage cans, pushing himself until he knew he’d be nothing more than a blur to those behind him.

  Shouts echoed. He didn’t even look back. He turned to the left, rushing between buildings, and then the pathway spit him out right next to the Ford sedan.

  Only Savannah wasn’t sitting in the car.

  Special Agent Bennett McNeely was. The driver’s side door was open, and McNeely’s fingers were wrapped tightly around the wheel.

  Jett didn’t slow down. He barreled forward and grabbed the guy by the neck, hauling him out of the car. “Where is she?”

  A car horn honked. A long, angry blare.

  Jett turned his head and watched a dark van hurtle toward them.

  The van braked just a few feet away. The side door slid open, and Jett saw Savannah. A man with curly, dark hair sat beside her, glasses perched on his nose, and a gun in his hand. The gun—equipped with a silencer—was pressed to Savannah’s stomach.

  “You’re fucking dead,” Jett told the bastard.

  The guy smiled. “Let go of McNeely. You’re choking the life out of him.”

  Jett dropped McNeely.

  The SOB in glasses smirked. “You’ll do anything for her, won’t you?”

  “Let her go.”

  “Or is it the baby you care more about? I’ve been curious about that part.”

  He cared about them both. They were his family.

  McNeely was wheezing and gasping for breath. Jett didn’t spare the guy a glance.

  “If I let you in the van as you are, you’ll just try to overpower me. Or if it’s dark enough in here, you’ll play your shadow games.” The prick smiled at him. “You’ve grown very good at those, haven’t you?”

  “Who the hell are you? Another Lazarus doc with a god complex?”

  “No, I’m Dr. Anthony Rowe, and I’m Savannah’s psychiatrist. I’ve been taking care of her for years.”

  Fucking hell. The name clicked for him. Dr. Rowe had been the prick in charge of the psychiatric facility that Savannah had stayed in when she was just sixteen years old. He’d been the man who’d “treated” her—the bastard who’d suppressed her psychic powers and changed her memories. “You were on my list, Rowe. You didn’t have to come for me. I was going to come for you.” He’d planned to make anyone who ever hurt Savannah pay.

  For an instant, fear flashed on the man’s face. But it quickly vanished as the doc curled one hand around Savannah’s shoulder. “I’m afraid the next step is necessary, Savannah.” His gaze flickered down to her.

  Savannah just kept staring straight at Jett. There was so much trust in her eyes. Faith. She thought he’d get her out of this. I will, baby, I will.

  Dr. Rowe sighed. “Believe it or not, Savannah, I’m doing this so the ride will be easier for everyone. But take a deep breath. Maybe close your eyes. We should try to lessen the emotional impact on you. Don’t want the baby being stressed.”

  What?

  The doc’s gaze lifted. Focused not on Jett but on Agent McNeely. “McNeely, kill him. Fire the gun. Not the head. Be sure not the head—”

  Jett whirled for the jerk.

  McNeely had his gun out. Face grim, he said, “I’m sorry.”

  “No!” Savannah screamed.

  McNeely fired. The silencer had the bullet coming out with just a gust of wind. The bullet tore into Jett’s chest. Missed his heart. Jett lunged for the van.

  Bam.

  Another bullet tore into his back. Jett immediately felt his legs give way. His eyes were on Savannah as she fought with the bastard in the glasses.

  The guy hit her, driving his fist at her face.

  “You’re…dead,” Jett promised as the blood pumped from his body.

  Once more, the bastard smirked at him. “No, that would be you.”

  Darkness closed around Jett. His last thought…Joke’s on you, you sonofabitch. I don’t stay dead. You will. I guarantee it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Get him into the van! Let’s get the hell out of here!”

  McNeely grabbed Jett’s limp body. Tossed him into the van. Jett’s head slammed into the bottom of a seat.

  Savannah cried out and reached for him, but the doctor grabbed her and jerked her back.

  “Savannah, stay here!” He motioned to the driver. Even as McNeely jumped into the van and slid the side door shut, they were hurtling forward.

  Dr. Anthony Rowe. She hadn’t seen that bastard, not in years. She’d thought that he was just a nightmare from her past.

  Some nightmares seemed destined to haunt you.

  “I’m sorry I had to hit you. I couldn’t have you taking the gun from me.”

  She was going to do more than take the gun from him. She was going to shoot him. Her gaze stayed locked on Jett.

  “Have you seen him die before?”

  She had. And it wasn’t any freaking easier the second time. Savannah pulled in a deep breath, let it out. “I feel dizzy.” She made her breathing come faster. Harder. “You need to stop the van, I’m going to be sick.”

  He laughed.

  She wondered if she could vomit on him. “I’m dizzy, I-I think something is wrong. Stop the van!”

  �
�I’m not going to buy your act, Savannah. You think you can jump out and escape? Run away?” He motioned to McNeely. “Make sure she doesn’t move.”

  McNeely slid toward her. “Savannah?” His voice was low. “Look at me.”

  She was still staring at Jett. “This is the second time you’ve killed him.” Her lips curved into a cold smile. “He’s going to really hate you when he wakes up.”

  McNeely’s fingers feathered over her cheek. “She’s already getting a bruise. You said she wouldn’t be hurt.”

  Her hand pressed over her stomach.

  “Don’t fucking hit her again.”

  “It’s nothing,” Dr. Rowe huffed. “Shoot him again. Right in the heart this time. You said he recovers very quickly, and I don’t want the guy springing at me before we get to our destination.”

  “No!” Savannah yelled.

  McNeely pulled out his gun. Aimed it at Jett’s body.

  “Don’t!” Savannah shouted as she clawed at his arm, trying to wrench the gun away. “He’s already out! Don’t—”

  Rowe jabbed his gun into her stomach. “Freeze, Savannah. Right now.”

  “You won’t shoot me or the baby,” she whispered.

  “Can you take that chance?”

  No, she couldn’t risk her baby, and the bastard knew it. She stilled.

  McNeely fired.

  Savannah squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sick. I’m going to be sick. Stop the van! Stop!” She slapped her hand over her mouth.

  “Blood is already pooling on the floor. Do you think I mind some vomit?” Dr. Rowe asked coldly as he finally moved the gun away from her. “You misjudge me.”

  Her gaze cut to him. He’d been fresh out of school when she’d first met him, so she figured he had to be in his late thirties now. There were only the faintest of lines on his face. He looked normal. Not like a monster.

  Appearances were so deceiving.

  “Concentrate on your breathing, Savannah,” McNeely told her softly. “In and out. Just breathe. You’re not in any danger.”

  Was he fucking kidding her? He’d been the one to shoot Jett! He wasn’t about to—

  “Breathe. Focus on me, Savannah. Only me.”

  Her face throbbed from where Rowe had hit her. But instead of reaching to touch her bruised skin, she slowly lowered her hand. Let it slide down low, back over her stomach, as if she was cradling her baby.

  Her fingers pressed over her shirt.

  Pressed against the phone that she’d hidden in the pockets of her oversized sweatshirt. She’d had that phone with her when Rowe had grabbed her, and when he’d opened the door of the van, when he’d been yelling at Jett…

  I freaking dialed one. Jett had told her that in order to reach Sawyer, all she had to do was push one. I pushed.

  She hoped like hell that the call had gone through. She hoped that Sawyer and Elizabeth had been able to answer. Could they hear what was happening in the van? Could they trace the phone as long as it was on? She had no idea how all that tech stuff worked. She was just willing to try anything.

  Anything.

  She breathed slowly. In and out.

  Her eyes closed. Then, concentrating as hard as she could, she sent her thoughts blasting out, projecting straight to the image she’d just pulled up in her head. An image of her cousin. Sam. I don’t know if you’re the good guy or the bad guy…right now, I’m leaning hard to bad. But I need help. A guy named Dr. Anthony Rowe has me and Jett. I need help. I need—

  “Interesting,” Rowe murmured. “Since I haven’t worked with you to grow your psychic powers, I didn’t think that you’d learned how to communicate with others. I believed that I’d frozen your progress.”

  How the hell did he know what she was doing? Her eyes flew open, and her head whipped toward him.

  His smile stretched. “I heard you, Savannah. Heard you loud and clear.”

  No, no.

  “But you should know that your dear cousin has been working with me for quite some time. He’s not going to save you.”

  Had he just heard her one message to Sam? Or could he read all of her thoughts? If he could read all of her thoughts, she was screwed. He’d know about the call to Sawyer.

  She kept her fingers pressed over her stomach. Over the phone.

  But he made no move to take the phone from her hiding spot. He said, “No one is going to come for you. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you just died in a fire at your shop. No one will look for you, Savannah. Soon, you’ll be nothing more than a headstone.”

  ***

  The scene was freaking chaos.

  A fire truck had just rushed up the road. Squad cars were everywhere. Cops were running to the left and right but…

  Where were all the federal agents who’d been working the case?

  Jennifer spun around, her gaze scanning the street. She didn’t see any of those bozos. And that was wrong.

  “Jennifer!”

  Her gaze snapped over at that desperate yell.

  A uniformed cop was shoving Sam into the back of a patrol car. Good. Sam needed to be locked away.

  “Jennifer, Savannah is in trouble! She needs you!”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  The guy was resisting arrest. Fighting hard. And he was about to get his ass tased. Fine by her. Sam deserved some pain. He’d tied her up.

  Now two cops in uniform were working to shove him into the patrol car. She sauntered toward them. The fool had kidnapped a detective. What did he think was going to happen? But if he wanted to keep talking without a lawyer present, if he wanted to spill his guts to her, she’d let him.

  The two uniforms finally succeeded in shoving Sam into the back seat. They slammed the door. And glared.

  “Mind if I sit in the car a moment?” Jennifer asked the cops. “Got a few questions.” She knew the guys, and she offered them a tired smile.

  One hurried to open the driver’s door for her. Jennifer slid inside. “Thanks.” She waited a moment, waited for the cops to back away…

  “My head hurts. I think I have a concussion.”

  “And why would you think I care?” She turned to glare at Sam through the partition that kept the perps in the back. “Look, there is some trippy shit happening here. But I want to focus on why you decided to kidnap me.”

  “Savannah is in danger!” His eyes were wild. “I fake kidnapped you because I knew Savannah would come for you! She wasn’t going to let anything happen to you!”

  And Savannah had sent Jett racing to the rescue.

  “I needed to talk with Savannah. I needed a safe place for us to meet.” He leaned toward the partition that separated them. “I’m always watched.” His voice dropped. “I sold my soul to the devil, and I had to find a way out. I thought that if I could get her to the shop, where he couldn’t hear what I said to her…”

  The guy was delusional.

  “He can hear my thoughts. Stupid fucking experiment. He plugged into my head, and I can’t get him out. So, he knows that she just contacted me. He would have heard her because he can hear me.”

  “Okay.” Frustrated now, she tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. “Obviously, you’re trying to set up an insanity defense, and I just don’t have time for—”

  “You must have seen what Jett can do! He’s a super soldier. A real, honest-to-God, super soldier. And I’m psychic. So is Savannah. I know it sounds crazy. It just…” Sam banged his head against the partition. He was so far from the perfect guy he’d seemed to be. “She just sent me a message. Rowe has her. Her and Jett, and if we don’t do something soon, she’ll vanish. We’ll never get her back.”

  “Rowe?” That was a new name.

  “He’s the shrink who treated Savannah after her car wreck.”

  “When was Savannah in a wreck?”

  “When she was sixteen!”

  “Jesus, you need to calm the hell down. I didn’t know her back then. Didn’t know about the wreck, okay?”

  He sucked
in several deep breaths. “After the wreck, her dad put Savannah is some weird-ass mental ward, and when I went there…” His voice dropped. “I met Dr. Rowe. He promised he could help me, too.”

  “Help you? Help you how?”

  Silence.

  Whatever. She started to climb from the car—

  “I can hear thoughts. Pick them up so easily. I’ve always been able to do it. I knew when Savannah had the crash. I could hear her screaming in my head. She screamed for her brother over and over again, but I knew he was dead. I’d felt Steven die.”

  She whipped around to glare at the guy. “You’re bullshitting me.”

  “Sometimes, I couldn’t shut it off. It was driving me crazy. Back then, I thought…hell, maybe I should be in the same place Savannah is. Maybe I should be in the psych ward.”

  She was sure thinking a psych ward might do the man a world of good.

  “I mean, when I saw what the doctor could do, he seemed perfect. And at first, Dr. Rowe did seem to help me. My parents died when I was kid, and Phillip didn’t really give a rat’s ass what I did. So when I said I wanted to see Dr. Rowe, he just wrote checks for me. I went to the shrink for weekly sessions. I learned to channel. To focus my talent on reading specific people. I didn’t realize until much later…”

  His words trailed away. So, in her head, she finished for him…That you’d sold your soul to the devil?

  He nodded.

  “Prove this shit. Tell me something—”

  “Think something very clearly.”

  I want to kick your ass. You tied me up. You betrayed my trust, you prick. And here I’d always thought you were—

  His eyes widened. “You liked me? You thought I was sexy?”

  “No, I don’t fucking like you. I want you in a cell.” But her heart was racing too fast. “Where is Savannah?”

  “I…I think I know where they are taking her.”

  “You gonna take me there?”

  A quick nod. “But you can’t go in with a swarm of cops. They’ll clean up their mess at the first sign of trouble. Do you know what clean up means?”