Switch (New World Series)

by Janelle Stalder

  Michael nodded. “I’m going to help any way I can. Now go get your girl and we’ll figure out our next steps. I’m going to take Seamus back to my place. It doesn’t feel right to stay here in the city. Meet me there when you’re done.”

  Pete agreed, turning to leave. He stopped in the doorway, looking back as his dad sat back in his spot beside his best friend. “Da?” He looked up. “I love you.”

  He nodded. “I love you too, son.”

  The map led them through the old underground metro lines. Most of the tunnels had collapsed during the bombings, but it appeared some had been cleared enough for passage. Another one of Douglas’ secrets. Thankfully no one was posted inside them since twenty men walking through wasn’t exactly a quiet affair. They made their way to the spot his father had indicated – an emergency exit that lead them up to the streets, right in front of the church.

  Pete was practically shaking when they found the place. All he wanted to do was rush in there, guns blazing, but he knew that wouldn’t be wise. Douglas didn’t go anywhere without a team of men. And even though they were all technically on the same side, he wouldn’t put it past them to shoot first. The lines now drawn were exceptionally blurry.

  “What now?” Trent whispered. Garrett stood beside him, his face unusually grim.

  “We walk in there like nothing is wrong,” he said, looking at each one of them. “If we come up to someone, don’t act like anything is off. Greet them how we normally would then secure them quickly. No killing. Just knock them out.”

  “What if they’re not against us?” someone asked.

  Pete shook his head. “We can’t stop to find out. It will only waste time, and we need to get in and out before they catch on to why we’re here.”

  “What if the General is there?” Garrett said.

  “He won’t be,” Tyler answered. Pete looked over at him. They had known each other for years, and there had been no doubt in his mind that Tyler would side with him if he asked. Pete trusted him. The man was only in his late twenties, but he had the confidence of someone much older. He wore his hair shaved close at the sides, longer on top. One side of his head was tattooed, as was most of his body. His eyes were green like Pete’s, but lighter and cold when he stared at you. The lower half of his face was covered in a thick beard that he’d been growing since they met. He moved from Scotland during the beginning of the war, and had been with them ever since. “He has a meeting with the council,” he said. “I heard them talking about it last night.”

  “Good,” Pete said. “That’s one thing off our plate.” Even though all he really wanted to do was slam his fist into the man’s face, he thought silently. It would have to wait. The game was bigger now, and his moves had to be smart. “Let’s move.”

  They entered the church from the side, heading directly toward the back door beside the alter where Michael had told them to go. The inside was full of dust and debris. From all outward appearances, completely abandoned. A small staircase led them underground to a low tunnel. Two guys stood halfway down, their bodies straightening when they heard their footsteps.

  “Hey Rich,” Tyler called out. Pete kept to the back, in case they were on the lookout for him in particular. Pete saw them hesitate.

  “Oh, hey man,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Douglas asked us to come by and relieve you guys from guard duty,” he said easily. “Figured you might get tired of watching the wee lasses.”

  “He didn’t say anything to us about it,” said the other guy, Patrick.

  “Well I guess it’s a surprise then,” he said, before moving swiftly to knock Patrick out. Rich started to lift his gun when Garrett stepped forward and hit him in the temple, knocking him out. “Surprise.”

  “Good job,” Pete said. “Keep moving.”

  They moved forward, meeting only two more guys before reaching the end of the hall. There was a door to the left that led into a small observation room. The window looked into another tiny room that held a single chair.

  “Shit,” Garret said under his breath. Pete stepped closer, looking in. Dried blood splattered the ground around the chair, restraints hanging loosely from the arms and legs. “You don’t think…”

  “No,” he said firmly. He could not believe the girls were killed. He would not believe it. “Search around for more rooms,” he said, turning around to look at the grim faces staring back at him. This was the only door they had found, but there had to be more. “We’re missing something. Everyone spread out and keep your eyes open.”

  The thing that pissed her off the most right now, besides that she was locked in some dark, dank cell, was that they had taken her shoes. Who does that? Her feet were freezing as she paced the small confines. The stone was cold and slimy, and all she wanted was some sort of barrier between it and her soles. It was like some sort of evil torture practice. She was just wearing a bra and panties – that she could deal with. But her shoes?

  The one guy they left to watch her, John stood against the door, his face blank as he watched her. She guessed he was chosen to stay since clearly he didn’t have a problem with hitting a girl. Asshole. Her body ached from his fists and she was pretty sure one of her ribs was bruised.

  The good thing was she could actually move still. She needed to get out of here – fast. Bridgette was already on her way to headquarters dressed in Charlotte’s clothes. She couldn’t just stand by and let her sister take this risk. If Ludwig figured it out…she didn’t even want to think about it. Wrapping her arms around her shivering body, she kept up her pacing. Think, she ordered herself. She needed to find a way out of here. Her first problem was the manacle around her ankle that was chained to the wall. That was just the first. Then there was getting around fisticuffs over there, finding her way out of the building, possibly finding clothes, and then getting to headquarters before Bridge. Yeah…she was screwed.

  “Do you think I could get a sweater?” she said, stopping to face him.

  “Nope,” he said.

  “Seriously?”

  He gave her a bland look. “Seriously.”

  She growled and started walking again, jumping a bit when she reached the end of the room just to keep moving, and then turning to walk back the other way. How long was she supposed to keep this up? By the time Bridge did whatever their father had forced her into, Charlotte was likely to die of pneumonia. That’s probably what he’s hoping for, she realized. The sounds of footsteps outside had her looking toward the exit. John’s brows drew together as he reached for his gun and opened the door to walk out into the hall. It shut behind him, muffling his voice as he spoke to whoever was there.

  The next thing she heard was a gunshot, curses, more muffled voices, a distinct scuffle, and then silence. Charlotte backed up until her bare skin hit the wall. Who the hell was out there? Could it be Pete? No, she instantly brushed that thought away. He was done with her, he made that pretty clear. Roman? Could be, she decided. He could have followed her when she left this morning and saw her being dragged away later. Maybe he just waited until Douglas left before coming in for her. She was relieved at the thought she might be saved, but the ache in her chest told her she would have much rather it be the former man than the latter.

  At this point, she rationalized, anyone will do. She just needed to get to Bridge. The door opened and a complete stranger walked in. Okay…not what she was expecting. He was large, filling the doorway, his eyes landing on her, taking her in slowly. She became very aware of the fact she was practically nude.

  “Are you Charlotte?” he asked in his Scottish brogue. She nodded. He turned around and yelled, his voice echoing down the hall. “I found her!”

  What the heck? She didn’t dare move. Okay, maybe she couldn’t…actually…move. She was cold, scared, and confused. Suddenly staying in this tiny room didn’t seem so bad. There were loud footsteps as someone ran to her room and then suddenly there he was. She made herself blink a few times just to be sure she was seeing
things correctly. Pete’s eyes landed on hers and a burst of fire ignited in her stomach. One second he was across the room and the next he had her pressed up against him, his face in her hair.

  “Jesus,” he said, his voice muffled. “I’m so glad I found you.”

  He was? Her heart raced with his nearness and the warmth coming off him as he held her. She had no idea why he was there, but she was just so happy to see him that she didn’t think twice about throwing her arms around his neck and clinging to him. She breathed in deeply, loving the familiar smell and feel of him. He pulled her tighter, his arm squeezed her waist and a pained yelp escaped her before she could hide it. He instantly let go and she frowned at the loss.

  “Look at you,” he said, his green eyes growing brighter with anger. “What the fuck did they do to you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “No you’re not.” He dropped to his knees in front of her, his head coming right to her breast. His hands ran over her body, probing and searching every bruise marking her pale skin. He forced her to turn around, even when she protested, so he could look at her back too. Then he spun her back, his fingers gently touching the cut on her lip.

  “Who did this?” he asked.

  “The guy that was in here with me,” she said. “I’m fine though.”

  His mouth pressed into a firm line and he stood up. Both hands cupped her face gently as his eyes bore into hers. “Charlotte Hatcher, I love you. More than I can express. And this,” he said, motioning to her injuries before placing his hand back on her face, “this will never happen again. I won’t let it. You’re mine now. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  The burning sensation at the back of her throat choked her as tears welled in her eyes. “I thought you hated me,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “I’m an idiot, Charlotte. I should have never listened to a word that dick said to me. I’ll never doubt you – ever. I’m so in love with you, sweetheart, I don’t even know what to do with myself when you’re not near me.” She felt the hot tears spill over and run down her cheeks just as he grabbed her and pulled her mouth to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, drinking him in. He loved her. And she loved him. She didn’t even know how to process that right now.

  Someone cleared their throat behind Pete. “Uh, sorry to interrupt,” he said. They pulled apart, and Charlotte looked over at Trent’s amused face smiling at them. “Hey Din – uh, Charlotte.”

  She laughed. “Hey.”

  “You’re looking good,” he said, his eyes scanning her slowly, one side of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

  “You better stop that, or I swear I’ll punch you in the throat,” Pete said, wrapping himself around her so she was hidden. “Here,” he said, letting her go so he could pull his sweater over his head. “Wear this.”

  She took his shirt thankfully. It was still warm and smelled like him. The sleeves fell just below her finger tips, the hem reaching almost to her knees. Pete made a weird growl noise from the back of his throat. She looked up to see him watching her appreciatively.

  “I like you in my clothes,” he said with heated eyes.

  “Seriously,” Trent said, exasperated. “We need to go – like, now.”

  Pete looked down at the manacle around her ankle. “We need to get this off of her first.”

  “Tyler!” Trent called out into the hall. “We need your expertise.”

  The Scottish man came back in, walking over to them with an air of confidence. He was bearded, tatted, and rather intimidating that she found herself just watching him closely. His hands were warm against her cold skin as he circled her ankle easily, checking out the lock. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out small tools that she couldn’t see clearly as he bent over her foot to work. In what felt like seconds she heard the lock click and the pressure around her ankle released. Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief, rotating her foot in slow circles.

  “Thank you,” she said, gratefully.

  “No problem, Lass,” he said with a smile.

  “Great, now let’s move,” Trent said urgently.

  “What about Bridgette?” Pete said, grabbing her hand. Charlotte pulled him to a stop.

  “She’s gone,” she said.

  Both of them looked at her, confused. “Gone where?” asked Pete.

  “To headquarters. In my clothes.”

  She watched as they both put it together at the same time. Curses flew from their mouths. Before she knew it, Pete had her hand again and was pulling her quickly through a dark hallway. Trent was talking about going to Michael’s, while Pete just kept cursing. Charlotte had no idea what was going to happen now, but she knew they needed to get to Bridge somehow and get her out, before anyone there realized they’d been switched.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  When they reached Pete’s father’s place, everyone started talking at once and it became utter chaos. His dad took one look at her and demanded she be put to bed. Now Charlotte lay in one of the spare bedrooms, Seamus asleep in the other, and waited. Michael had already bandaged her up, and gently checked out her ribs. Nothing was broken, thankfully. She could hear the murmur of voices from the living room down the hall, but she couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying. She would have got up and gone to listen, but Michael gave her strict instructions not to move.

  She was bored. With nothing better to do, she found herself falling asleep even though it was still light outside. She figured she’d just close her eyes for a few minutes, but the next thing she knew she was out.

  Gentle fingers stroked through her hair as she slowly regained consciousness. Soft lips traced the outline of her ear, placing a small kiss just behind it. She lay still, enjoying the feel of him as he continued his exploration down the side of her neck to the sensitive part between it and her shoulder. Unable to sit still any longer, she mumbled incoherently like she was just waking up, blinking her eyes as she looked over her shoulder.

  “Trent,” she said, making her voice sound groggy with sleep. Pete’s entire body stiffened behind hers. She rolled onto her back and started laughing the second she saw his stunned expression. It slowly turned dark, his eyes narrowing, as she continued to laugh, holding on to her sore stomach.

  “You think that’s funny?” he said, growling his words.

  “You should have seen your face,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “That was priceless.”

  “Woman, you will pay for that.” He rolled on top of her, the weight of him sinking her into the mattress. This two hands pinned hers above her head on the pillow while he snuggled his hips between her legs.

  “I don’t mean to burst your bubble,” she said, blowing a piece of hair out of her face since she currently had no use of her hands. “But this isn’t really much of a payback.”

  “Fine. You’ll pay later…when I’ve thought up an appropriate retaliation.”

  She shook her head, smiling. “You suck.”

  “You’re mean,” he said, his voice teasing.

  She raised her eyebrows in mock offense. “I’ll have you know, I am actually quite nice to you. You should see me with other people. You have no idea how much of a bitch I can be.”

  He gasped, making her giggle. “You mean to say you’re even bitchier to others? I feel terrible for the general population that they should have to endure such a horror.”

  “You should. It’s awful.” He laughed, dipping his head to run his nose over her collarbone lightly. “You really do bring out the weaker side of me. I’m not sure if I should be happy or pissed off about that.”

  “Weaker like you don’t feel the need to kick ass anymore?” he asked, running his lips up the opposite side of her neck now.

  “No,” she said, her voice breathy. “More like all I do is think about you and act like some stupid girl in love.”

  He lifted his head, his mouth stretched in a silly grin. “You are some stupid girl in love.”

  “Doesn’t mean I should act like
it.”

  He nipped her bottom lip, pulling away quickly. “Well, for the record, as long as you still want to kick ass, I think it’s okay for me to be your one weakness.”

  “So long as you’re the only one?”

  “Absolutely.” He kissed each side of her mouth, before finally planting one fully on her lips. He lingered there, nipping at her lightly and then kissing it again, before pulling back to stare down at her. “I love you, Charlotte. I know we have a long road ahead of us, but there’s no one else I’d rather walk it with than you.”

  “Ditto.”

  “Ditto? That’s the best you could do? I just spent the last hour thinking up that line.”

  “If it took you a whole hour to think up one line I wouldn’t be bragging about it.”

  He growled, lowering his head to take her lips again, this time opening hers with a brush of his tongue before plunging in and completely stealing her breath. Their tongues tangled in frantic need. He let go of her hands to hold the sides of her face, angling their heads to deepen the kiss even further. Charlotte gripped his shoulders tightly, pressing herself closer. She wanted to feel every inch of him against her.

  “I need you,” she whispered against his lips. He moaned, pulling away, his breath coming out fast.

  “There is a room full of people just down the hall, one of them being my da,” he said.

  “So?”

  He looked at her, his eyes bright with desire, his lips swollen and red from their kisses. Then he shrugged and said, “yeah, you’re right.” His mouth devoured hers, sucking her tongue into his mouth, licking and tasting her until he pulled back with one final lick over the cut on her lower lip. “Are you sure you’re okay to do this?”

  She huffed, pushing at his chest to give her room so she could pull his shirt off him. “I could be half dead and I’d still be okay to do this.”

  “That’s my girl.” He helped rip the sweater off then went to work on pulling down her panties. As he pulled them over her feet, he stood up at the end of the bed and quickly undressed, almost tripping in his haste to get out of his pants. He slipped a condom on before placing his knee on the bed, his hands gripping her thighs, widening them.