by LENA DIAZ,
He made choking, gagging noises, his one good arm flailing against Devlin’s chest, feebly trying to push him away.
“Did Cyprian give the orders?”
Bloody saliva dribbled down his chin. “Uwes, uwes,” he gurgled.
Devlin pulled his gun out of Gage’s mouth and wiped the barrel clean on Gage’s pants. “Was that a yes? Cyprian gave the orders?”
He nodded vigorously, spittle dripping down in a long string to his shirt.
Kelly made a choking sound.
Devlin glanced at her. He’d been so furious and focused on making Gage confess his role in Arianna’s death that he’d forgotten about Kelly. Her eyes were wide with fright, her face so pale it was translucent. Her body shook as she stared at Gage, who’d sunk to the floor, blubbering and moaning.
The stink of blood and sweat and urine filled the room. Kelly’s terrified gaze locked on Devlin now. She seemed more afraid of him than of the man who’d whipped her and tied her to the bed. While she stared in fright at Devlin, Gage lay in a puddle of his own piss, brokenly sobbing the name of his dead sister.
Devlin slowly lowered himself to the floor and dropped his face in his hands. The haze of anger drained away, leaving nothing but a hollow, empty space inside him, and one thought running through his head over and over and over.
What would Emily think of him if she saw him now?
Would she trace her fingers over his tattoos and tell him how she admired him, that he was a good man? No. She would say he was no better than the men he’d killed, that he was kidding himself thinking he did what he did to save others, that inside, he was no better than any of them.
And she’d be right.
“Devlin?” Kelly’s soft voice called to him hesitantly, as if she was afraid he’d hurt her if she spoke above a whisper.
God, how he despised himself right now.
He holstered his pistol and squatted down in front of her. Her eyes were wide, wary.
He tried to smile, to reassure her, but he didn’t have any smiles left. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you? I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. But everything’s going to be okay now.”
He unsheathed the knife at his waist and sliced through the ropes binding her wrists to the bed. Reaching up, he tugged a blanket down to wrap around her bare shoulders.
She smiled her thanks and gathered the blanket close.
“Can you stand?” he asked.
In answer, she pushed herself to her feet, surprising him with her strength after what she must have gone through.
“Where’s the other woman?” Devlin asked. “Is she tied up in one of the other rooms?”
She gave him a look of alarm. “Other woman?”
“The woman who escaped, Virginia Hawley, said there were three other women being held captive. That would have been you, Nancy, and someone else. Am I wrong?”
“Oh, uh, no. There was another woman. Poor thing.”
She waved a hand toward Gage, who had pulled himself to a sitting position and scooted away from the puddle, closer to the wall.
“He killed her, just this morning. It was . . . awful. So awful.” She shuddered.
Devlin tensed. Something wasn’t right. Something was . . . off.
“Yancy, Kelwee keel Yancy.”
Kelly shot Gage an irritated look and grabbed the rope Devlin had just cut off her. “He’s twisted and crazy,” she spat. “I’ll tie him up so he can’t hurt anyone else.”
“I hardly think that’s necessary.”
“Trust me. It is. He’s still dangerous. I’ll tie his good wrist to the bed.” She looped one end of the rope around the footboard in the same spot where she’d been tied and quickly made a knot. She took the other end and started toward Gage.
Devlin stared at the knot. The same fancy knot she’d tried to teach him years ago. What had she called it? A double overhand knot. The way the rope crossed over itself created an X shape.
Or, if you turned it sideways, a cross.
His eyes widened. He went for his gun a second too late. Kelly yanked it out of the holster and scrambled back, aiming his own gun at him.
“Sorry, Dev. I got a little sloppy with my extracurricular activities and needed a fall guy.”
He stared at her, stunned. He’d been so sure Gage was the one behind everything. Not once had he considered that Kelly might be faking her own abduction. Until he saw that damn knot. He fisted his hands beside him.
“Extracurricular activities? Shannon? Nancy? Is that how you get your kicks these days? Beating and torturing other women and then killing them? Why, because they’re weaker than you and can’t fight back? That’s what all of this was about?”
Her eyes narrowed. “My kicks? You always did think you were better than me. Judging what you could never understand.”
He waved toward Gage, who was scooting back toward the window as if to get as far away from Kelly as possible. “You came here to kill him and pin that on me too, didn’t you? But you couldn’t resist a little sick, twisted fun first. You kept him tied up, beat him, but he broke loose. That’s why you were tied up when I got here, isn’t it? That’s why you said he’s dangerous.”
“If you’re expecting a confession, you’re wasting your breath.” Her hands tightened around the gun.
“Hold it,” Devlin said, trying to buy some time as he inched a little closer. “Are you saying you framed me for your kills, for what? To keep from getting into trouble with our boss?”
“He was getting suspicious.” She shrugged. “I needed a fall guy.”
“You expect me to believe that you went to such elaborate lengths to make me look guilty just so you wouldn’t be declared rogue? I’m not so sure Cyprian would ever declare you a rogue, no matter what you’d done. He adores you too much for that.”
She snorted. “You give me far too much credit. Even I’m not immune from Cyprian’s reprisals.”
Something flickered in her eyes, telling him she was lying. Did Cyprian know about her fetish for beating and killing other women? Had he turned a blind eye? If so, then why draw attention to her kills by trying to make it look like Devlin was the one killing the women?
“If you wanted me dead, why not just kill me outright? It would have been a lot simpler.”
“Right. And have every enforcer in EXIT trying to figure out who killed you? I wouldn’t have lasted a week. I needed to make you look so bad no one would care when you died.”
Devlin raised a brow. “So you decided to frame me, make it look like I was the one guilty of your sick crimes.”
“My sick crimes?” she spat. “What about your crimes? Hacking into the EXIT databases? Did you really think you could get away with that?” Her eyes widened with dismay. She obviously hadn’t intended to tell him that.
The ramifications of what she’d just said stunned him. “Kelly, all I did was download dossiers so I could do my job better, with less risk. Are you saying there’s something else in the EXIT databases worth killing me over? What exactly is Cyprian hiding?”
“You’ll never know, will you?” She tilted the gun up toward his head.
He slammed his left fist up beneath her right arm so he could wrench her gun away. Just before he could make contact, she danced back and whirled around, slamming the side of her leg against his ribs. His Kevlar vest took the brunt of her kick, but the force of the blow still sent him staggering back several feet. He gritted his teeth and inched his hand, ever so slowly, toward his waist.
Kelly laughed. “Really, Devlin? Did you think I’d forgotten that little trick of yours? Knock my arm and grab my gun?” She bounced on the balls of her feet like a boxer, ready to go another round. “Don’t you have any new moves?”
“Why don’t you toss the gun away and find out?”
Just a little more. His hand was almost in position.
She waggled her pistol. “You’re afraid I’ll shoot? My, my. Big, bad Devlin afraid of a woman. Or is it someth
ing else? Maybe your precious rule you threw in my face years ago—never hurt a woman?”
He unsheathed his knife and threw it in one smooth motion.
She screamed and staggered against the bed, clutching at the hilt of his knife buried in her abdomen.
“It’s more of a guideline than a rule.” Devlin rushed toward her.
She swung the pistol toward him again.
Bam! The front of her chest exploded in a bloody mess that would have made a horror movie fan cringe. She flopped end over end like a rag doll to land in a lifeless, crumpled heap by the door.
Stunned, Devlin looked past her to the other side of the room. Gage was on his knees under the window, holding a pistol, the same one Devlin had shot out of his hand earlier. Damn. Devlin had allowed Kelly to distract him or he would have retrieved the gun instead of forgetting about it. He tensed, prepared to lunge at him, but Gage dropped the pistol to the floor and pushed himself to his feet.
“Kelwee keel Yancy,” he said, repeating his earlier mantra.
Now Devlin understood.
“Kelly killed Nancy, right? That’s what you’re trying to say?”
He nodded, tears flowing down his swollen cheeks. “Sawwee kill Erweannah. Sawwee Ace fire.”
Sorry kill Arianna. Sorry Ace fire.
Because of Gage, his fiancée had died a horrible death. And because Gage had thought that Devlin had killed Nancy, he’d sicced Ace on Devlin’s family, nearly destroying them. Devlin should hate him, but at that moment all he felt was pity.
Emily had ruined him as an enforcer.
“Come on. Let’s get you to a hospital.”
Pitiful relief flashed across Gage’s face and he tried to smile, like an abused puppy begging its master for a kind word or a pat on the head. But the bloody, gap-toothed attempt just made his battered face look gruesome.
Devlin had never hated himself more than he did at this moment.
He started forward.
The glass in the window behind Gage shattered with a loud boom.
His head exploded like a too-ripe watermelon and his lifeless body dropped to the floor.
Devlin dove down as another shot sliced through the air, burying itself in the wall above him. Crouching down, he swiped his gun back from Kelly and yanked his knife out of her body. He scrambled on all fours into the hallway, flipped the granite-topped table on its side, and ducked behind it.
Silence reigned inside the house once again. He should get out, run for the cover of the trees before whoever was shooting at him cornered him in here. But he couldn’t move. Not yet. He just needed . . . one . . . damn . . . minute. He drew his knees up and rested his head against the wall behind him.
Kelly had earned what had happened to her. Her death didn’t bother him, except that he was still left with unanswered questions—like just what exactly Cyprian was hiding that was worth killing for. No, he wasn’t sad Kelly was gone. She’d paid for her crimes. But Gage . . . He squeezed his eyes shut, but that didn’t block out the image of Gage’s last, horrific moments on this earth, and Devlin’s role in those moments.
In spite of everything Gage had done, seeing him die that way after what Devlin had put him through had grief and shame welling up inside him. He allowed himself another minute before he ruthlessly bottled his emotions up and locked them tightly away. Later, he would grieve and swear and probably break something. But right now, he needed to focus on surviving. Because someone outside wanted him dead.
And he had a pretty good idea who. Ace.
He crept down the hall toward the stairs. Halfway down, a high-pitched, agonized scream cut through the silence outside. It was far away, so far that he’d barely heard it, but what he had heard made his blood run cold. No, it couldn’t be her. She was back in town, safe, under guard. Wasn’t she?
He practically flew down the stairs, taking them two at a time until he was flat against the wall by the open front door, waiting, listening.
The scream sounded again, driving like a knife straight to his heart.
Oh, God. Please, no. Not Emily too.
Chapter Twenty-Five
* * *
THE ACHE IN Emily’s shoulders from having her arms tied to the tree behind her was nothing compared to the throbbing pain of the burns on the side of her face. Where was her tormentor now? Was Ace hiding in the trees on the opposite side of the clearing? Waiting for Devlin to try to rescue her, so he could kill him?
She still couldn’t believe he’d gotten the drop on her back by the house. She’d been so intent on getting to Devlin that she hadn’t paid attention to the woods around her until it was too late. Ace had grabbed her gun, tied her to a tree, and made her watch as he aimed his rifle toward the same window where she’d seen movement earlier.
Moments later, he’d fired. The resulting smile on his face had terrified her that he’d shot Devlin. But then he’d suddenly lowered the rifle, his face contorted in fury as he swung it violently against a nearby tree, cracking the wooden body of the gun. He’d pitched the ruined weapon down and glared at her.
There was only one reason Emily could think of for him to be that mad. The second shot was meant for Devlin, but for some reason Devlin was no longer in range. She couldn’t help the smile that had curved her lips.
And then he’d pulled out the lighter.
She hadn’t wanted to scream, figuring he wanted to use her to draw Devlin out. But willpower alone wasn’t enough to keep her silent when the white-hot agony exploded across her nerve endings. He’d dragged her back through the trees, deeper into the woods to this clearing, and tied her up again. And then he’d disappeared.
Did he think Devlin would follow her trail to this clearing? Did he hope to shoot Devlin in the back while he bent down to untie her?
The Buchanan family had suffered so much these past few days. Were they doomed to suffer another more permanent loss? The loss of Devlin? Hot tears tracked down her cheeks. But they weren’t tears of pain. They were tears of anguish and fear for a man who mattered far more to her than she’d ever have thought possible a few days ago.
The hairs on her arms suddenly stood on end, her skin prickling with alarm. Something was wrong. The birds, the insects, even the warm breeze had stopped, as if the forest knew a predator was close by. Devlin. He was here. She sensed it in her heart, her soul. Somewhere under the cover of trees and bushes he was watching her.
Don’t come for me. If you try to help me, he’ll kill you. Stay away.
Suddenly, Devlin burst into the clearing. He moved so fast he was a blur, dropping to the ground in a tumbling roll as a hail of bullets rained down from one of the branches above him. He whirled around on his knees, firing his pistol up into the trees.
A crashing, cracking noise followed by a solid whump told Emily that Ace had jumped or fallen from his perch.
Devlin raced toward her, pistol in one hand, knife in the other. He dropped to his knees and cleanly sliced through the ropes binding her to the tree and immediately turned around, shooting his pistol in a deadly arc across the other side of the clearing. He hauled Emily to her feet as he continued to fire.
“Run, Em!”
Needing no further encouragement, she took off for the trees behind them while Devlin ran backward, firing to protect her flight until they were almost at the tree line. He turned and grabbed her, shoving her behind a tree as another volley of gunshots boomed across the clearing.
He hissed and arched back as he fell to the ground.
Emily jumped out from the cover of trees, grabbed his gun, and fired back toward the clearing to cover him. Bam! Bam! Bam!
“Dev, can you get behind the trees?” She fired her pistol again.
“Damn it, Emily,” he growled. He grabbed her by the waist and yanked her behind the tree with him.
She blinked in surprise to find him standing with his back to the tree with her facing him, pressed against him. She smiled, almost giddy with relief.
“You’re okay. I thought he
shot you.”
His eyes widened and he grabbed her arm.
She looked down, and her face flushed hot to see him turning her gun away from his stomach. She’d totally forgotten she was holding it. Again.
“I suck at this,” she grumbled as he took the gun from her.
“No, you don’t. I took a bullet to the vest, but if you hadn’t laid cover fire, he might have hit me somewhere more vital. You did good, Em.” He gently forced her chin up. She knew the exact moment he saw her burns because the look on his face sent a shiver of dread straight down her spine. She would never want to be his enemy.
“That bastard is going to pay for hurting you. You must be in terrible pain. Are you injured anywhere else?”
“Just my face. I’m okay. Did you see Pierce anywhere when you were looking for me? We were supposed to meet in the woods at the back of the house, but Ace found me first.”
His knuckles whitened around the grip of his pistol. “No. I’ll find him. And give him hell for bringing you here. But I’ll have to take out Ace first.” He grabbed a magazine clip from his pocket and put it into hers. Then he shoved the pistol into her hand.
“Wait, what are you doing? Do you have another gun?”
“I’ve got this.” He patted the lethal-looking knife sheathed at his waist, the one he’d used to slice her ropes. “And I’ve got you as my backup. What could go wrong?”
He winked and leaned down to kiss her. The throbbing pain of her burns faded as his lips worked their magic, so soft, so sweet, so achingly gentle because he was trying not to brush up against her burns. He ended the kiss and before she opened her eyes again, he was gone.
Her shock quickly turned to frustration. How could she back him up if he kept leaving her behind? The man had no clue how to be a partner, or how to accept help from anyone else. He’d been a loner for far too long. It was high time he learned how to let someone else help him.
She knew firsthand how ruthless and violent Ace could be. So she wasn’t going to sit and cower while Devlin risked his life for her. Or while Pierce lay somewhere hurt. But she wasn’t going to run into the middle of anything either. She couldn’t let fear or adrenaline control her. She had to stay calm, focused, and think things through.
