Rayna craned over her shoulder. At first she saw nothing behind them but dark, empty roadway as their car sped over the asphalt. Soon, though, a dark-colored SUV, headlights off, gained on them quickly. This wasn’t good. She braced her arms against the front seat and held her breath as the other car rammed them again, sending them fishtailing toward the side of the road.
Once more, Sean got the car under control and accelerated. They were entering the outskirts of Portland. Sporadic houses came into view with yard lights giving them an inhabited look, even though everyone was undoubtedly sleeping and wouldn’t care that she and Sean were about to be run off the road.
It couldn’t be Ty behind the wheel of that SUV—not if he knew she was in the car. Running someone off the road was too dangerous . . . too unpredictable. It had to be Andre or someone who worked for him. Andre had sworn to kill her on sight unless Ty delivered Bree and Madison to him. In any case, whoever it was meant business and clearly didn’t care whether there were survivors or not.
Rayna swung toward the front in time to see a green light ahead of them turn yellow and then red. Sean bore down on the intersection with clearly no intention of stopping. She peered down both side streets. Empty. No one else was around at whatever ungodly hour it was.
When another SUV, also with headlights off, seemed to materialize from nowhere on the right, she didn’t even have time to scream before it slammed into the passenger side of Sean’s car. The vehicle spun in a three-hundred-sixty-degree circle, flipped up on two wheels, and wavered there for an unbelievably long time before dropping back to all four.
The airbags deployed with a loud pop, Sean shoved himself toward the passenger seat, and she lost track of him. When the front passenger door opened, she heard angry voices and the sounds of a struggle before everything went quiet.
Rayna had bumped her head pretty hard on the side window, but she didn’t feel any blood, and it was probably the least of her worries. She sank down in the backseat, hoping against hope that they didn’t know she was there. No such luck. The driver’s side rear door jerked open and a man she’d never seen before looked her up and down, clearly surprised by her presence and her bound wrists.
“What have we here? Step out of the car.” The man held out his hand like he expected her to accept his help.
Rayna ignored him and shoved herself across the seat, stepping down to the roadway under her own power, which seemed to amuse the stranger. Two more men appeared, dragging an apparently unconscious Sean by the arms, and tossed him in the back of their SUV. She didn’t have to be told. These were Andre’s men. Out of the frying pan . . .
“You’ll ride with me.” The man who’d opened her door stopped her from getting into the same SUV as Sean.
She pressed her lips together and said nothing as he hustled her to the vehicle that had rear-ended them twice.
Asking where they were taking her seemed like a waste of breath. She’d pretty much guessed how this was going to end.
The man helped her into the front seat. She was grateful he didn’t feel the need to taunt her. Alone with her thoughts in the silence of the car, disappointing Ty was heavy on her mind. If only she’d done so many things differently. From putting their relationship on the back burner while she grieved for her brother to leaving as though Ty meant nothing to her, she’d played every wrong card in the deck. Last night she’d found out exactly how much she’d been missing, and she’d never get a chance to tell Ty how much that meant to her and how sorry she was for screwing it all up. She wasn’t afraid to die, but she hated the fact that Ty would suffer more because of it.
The drive went by too quickly and soon the driver pulled into a huge riverfront warehouse. The second SUV drove in beside them. Two men exited that vehicle dragging Sean, awake and blustering his usual threats, and disappeared toward the back of the warehouse.
Her driver still waited behind the wheel, and her nerves slowly frayed, not knowing what was coming next. Seconds crawled by while her heart pounded with dread. She caught her breath when her door suddenly swung open. Andre stood there, his hands on his hips, scowling blackly.
“I figured you were skulking around here someplace, Andre.” The words shot out before she could remind herself it wasn’t a good idea to provoke him.
He only quirked a lip in scorn. Her driver opened his door, stepped out, and met Andre at the front of the car. They spoke quietly for a few seconds.
Andre’s gaze swept back to her when they were done. “Come with me.”
Rayna didn’t move, and he returned to her side and reached for her arm, drawing her from the front seat even though she was sure her legs would be too wobbly to hold her. He closed the door and pulled her with him toward a flight of wooden stairs leading to the second level.
“What are you going to do?” Her voice sounded strained even to her own ears.
He shoved her ahead of him up the stairs and into a room with a wooden desk, two armchairs, and a coffee table. She stopped in the center of the room. He retrieved a knife from one of the drawers in the desk and turned toward her.
Her time had run out. Apparently, he was all done talking. Ty and Nate said Andre didn’t bluff, but deep down, she’d never expected it to end like this. Fleetingly, she considered making a break for it but weighed the odds and came to the conclusion she’d never make it.
A weary smile touched his lips. “I’m going to do what I should have done that night in your apartment.”
Rayna forgot to breathe as Andre stalked toward her with the knife.
Her brain screamed for her to run, but her feet seemed permanently fixed in place. At the last second, her hands came up, a pitiful attempt to ward him off. He caught her wrists and the knife sliced through the plastic tie. She stumbled backward. He tossed the knife onto the desk and reached for her arm, catching her in time to keep her from falling. Her breath escaped in a rush, not sure if she should be glad or sorry he hadn’t just killed her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
* * *
“YOU’RE CRAZY! SEAN wouldn’t hurt her.” Bree leaned back in the kitchen chair.
Ty circled her. “You better hope that’s true.” He grabbed another chair and straddled it in front of her. “You turned off the alarms so he could get in, didn’t you?”
“What? No! I’m telling you—it wasn’t him.” She stood abruptly.
Ty sprang to his feet, skidding his chair out of his way as he stepped into her, pushing her back against the table. He didn’t have the patience for her games—or the time. “Sean answered her phone. It was him. You know it was because you let him in. Now, tell me where he’s taking her.”
Anger burned in her eyes as she stared him down for an instant before looking away, and a heavy sigh escaped her. “If he did this, I swear I didn’t know. I didn’t help him, and I don’t know where he’s going. If I knew, I’d tell you.”
In his peripheral vision, Ty saw movement and glanced up as Maria reentered the room, followed by Joe.
Bree looked toward her too. “Maria, please go back to Madison in case she wakes up.”
“She’s awake. She wants some milk. Is it all right if I get her some?” Maria’s distrustful gaze swept over Ty and then back to Bree.
Ty had to take a deep breath and corral his annoyance. “Get her some milk.”
The woman hurried toward the cupboard, selected a glass, and filled it with milk. Glass in hand, she strode from the room.
As soon as she was gone, Ty gripped Bree’s arm and pulled her close, glaring into her glistening eyes. “Don’t play me for a fool, Bree. I know you like to call the shots. You wouldn’t let Sean leave you in the dark about his plan. You know where he’s going, and you’re going to tell me. If you don’t answer my questions, I’ll find someone to ask them who won’t be as nice. It’s your call.”
Bree shook her head slowly, and fear crossed her face for the first time. “I’m sorry, Ty. I can’t help you.”
“Can’t—or won’t?” He
pushed her against the table and backed away, afraid he’d strangle her if he didn’t get away from her.
“Easy, Ty.” Joe stepped up beside him. “Steve and Sanchez are bringing Alex. We’ll get the answers we need.”
Alex was coming here? Ty cringed inwardly. “For Madison’s sake, you should reconsider, Bree.”
“Why? Feeling guilty, Ty? This Alex of yours going to torture me if I don’t talk?” She glared hotly.
“Stop!” Maria stood in the doorway, the full glass of milk still clutched in her hand.
“It’s okay. Go back to Madison.” Bree’s eyes held a plea.
“I can’t let them do this.” She turned fear-filled eyes on Ty. “She’s telling the truth. She doesn’t know anything.”
“How do you know that?” Joe spoke quietly as he took a step toward her.
“I did it. I turned off the alarms so Mr. Sean could sneak in.” Tears filled her eyes, and she dropped her gaze.
“Why? Why would you do that?” Bree moved toward the woman protectively.
“My son. Mr. Sean kidnapped my son six months ago. I had to do what he said. When he came upstairs yesterday to say good-bye to Madison, he said if I did this, he’d let Marco go. I didn’t want to hurt Rayna.” A sob escaped her. “I had to do it for Marco, but I couldn’t let them blame you for something I did.” The glance she threw at Ty was filled with accusation.
Ty took a few steps back until he leaned against the counter. “Do you know what Sean’s plan was?” All the anger suddenly left him, replaced by a bone-deep weariness.
Maria shook her head. “I made him promise he wouldn’t hurt her.”
Ty’s fists clenched, and he groaned. If only there was some reason to believe Sean would keep his promise.
Bree watched him. “Satisfied?” Hurt and disappointment shadowed her face.
“For now.” Ty didn’t know her anymore. Maybe she didn’t cooperate to allow Sean back on the property, but that didn’t rule out the possibility she knew where he would take Rayna. He still didn’t trust her—probably never would again.
Walker entered through the back door. “No sign of anyone out there. Too dark to tell whether the fence is still in one piece.”
Nate followed him in and closed the door. “The alarm is in working order. I don’t understand how someone got in here and took Rayna out without a sound.”
“That mystery has been solved.” Joe’s phone vibrated and he stepped into the semi-darkened dining area off the kitchen before he snatched the device from his belt.
Walker and Nate exchanged confused glances, then looked toward Ty.
“It was Sean, and he had some help. Maria turned off the alarm and reset it after he left with Rayna.” Ty spoke quietly but sensed Bree’s angry gaze on him anyway. “Not sure yet how she came by the alarm code.”
Bree crossed to Maria and enveloped her in a hug as the woman burst into tears and intermittent apologies, partially in Spanish.
“Well, damn. I didn’t see that coming.” Nate stared at the two women. “I gave her the code and showed her how to work it.” He swore beneath his breath. “She said the little girl wanted to look at the stars before she went to bed.” He took two angry steps toward Maria before Ty blocked his path.
“Let it go,” he said quietly. “She had her reasons.” If looks could kill, Ty figured he and Maria would both be dead.
“That was Steve.” Joe reappeared in the doorway. “They’ll be on the ground in fifteen minutes at a private airstrip about thirty miles north.”
“I’ll drive.” Nate grabbed a set of keys from a rack by the door. Walker followed him out.
“We’ll have some hungry people here in less than an hour. Maria, do you mind helping me whip up some scrambled eggs and hotcakes?” Joe sorted through the pans and came up with two the appropriate size.
“I . . . I’m not going to jail?” Maria wiped at the tears running down her cheeks.
“Well, not before breakfast.” Joe smiled.
Maria clearly didn’t get Joe’s dry sense of humor and quickly went back to sniffling. Ty frowned in his direction, which elicited a low chuckle. Ty approached the woman while she tossed daggers of suspicion at him. All of a sudden, he was the bad guy, and damned if that didn’t piss him off.
“Nate’s the only real cop we’ve got, and the rest of us don’t stand too much on ceremony. We operate more on principle. For example, we cut a little slack to a mother trying to get her son back from a scuzball like Sean Phillips. So, no . . . no jail time for you. In fact, we’re going to make sure you get your son back. Right, Joe?” As Ty spoke, hope grew in Maria’s eyes.
“Damn straight.” Joe’s smile morphed to a grin. “Man, I’m likin’ this not-being-in-charge thing.”
Ty pinned him with a glare and huffed a breath. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”
Bree took the milk from Maria’s hand. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She nodded as she dried her eyes and even managed a small smile.
“I’ll take this and check on Madison if you want to help with breakfast.” Bree searched her eyes like she actually cared what the woman wanted to do.
“I’ll help.” She accepted the apron Joe held out to her and tied it around her waist.
Ty followed Bree from the room and stopped her at the foot of the stairs. “I’m sorry if I was hard on you in there, but just so we’re clear, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep Rayna alive.”
A wistful smile barely eased her solemn expression. “I’m six years ahead of you, Ty, but I’m glad to know you’re finally getting it.” She climbed the stairs and disappeared.
Ty watched her retreating back, feeling like a selfish fool. She’d been doing whatever it took to keep Madison alive for six years. He was no more determined than she. Heaven help them if one of their goals began to oppose the other. Even though he’d always had a soft spot for Madison, he had no doubt which one he’d pick. He was selfish—but he was okay with that.
THE WHITE SUBURBAN rumbled up the drive and into the garage forty-five minutes later. Nate must have hauled ass in that rusty old beast to get back so fast. Ty hadn’t had an opportunity to warn him about Alex. Hopefully, he hadn’t put his foot in it yet.
Ribs barked halfheartedly. Ty swung the back door open and stepped out on the deck in time to hear a string of colorful expletives from inside the garage. An instant later, Nate appeared and stalked angrily toward the house. Behind him, Walker and four camo-covered commandos fell in step together, big grins all around.
As Nate brushed by him, he pulled his baseball cap down lower and scowled. “Nobody says that and gets away with it.” He disappeared inside the house.
Aw, hell. Ty fixed Walker with a questioning gaze as they clambered onto the deck, then studied Sanchez, who was next in line. Juan Sanchez had served with Joe and Walker in Afghanistan and was a man you could count on in a fight. He was medium height, stocky, and hard-as-nails. His short, black hair, clean-cut appearance, ready smile, and perpetual respectfulness were in direct contrast to the battle-hardened soldier Ty knew him to be.
Steve Logan appeared next and threw him an apologetic smile as he hopped up onto the deck. A veteran of the Iraq War, he met Joe after their tours were up. In his mid-forties, he was a decade or so older than almost everyone else at the compound but, except for his graying hair, it didn’t appear to make much difference.
Joe seemed to attract ex-military types, and Jim Brady was no exception. He was a big man with big hands who laughed frequently and had the laugh lines to prove it. Ty considered all of them friends and assets.
Then there was Alex. Unabashed laughter came from under the last hat in line.
“Do I need to ask which one of you pissed off my ex-partner, my friend, and our host?” Ty pursed his lips to try to look serious.
Alex choked on laughter, whipped off the hat, and silky black hair fell to her shoulders. “Um . . . I’m sorry, Ty. It was just too easy.”
Sanchez
clasped Ty’s hand. “She’s right about that.”
Even Walker laughed at that, and Ty lost it, joining in their fun like old times—as though for a few seconds he could forget how everything was so fucked up.
“What the hell did you say to make him so mad?” Ty had a feeling he already knew. Only one thing could get Nate that riled up.
Nate burst out onto the deck, jingling a set of keys in his hand. “She said my Mustang didn’t have enough juice to get out of its own way.” He reset his cap on his head and smiled, a mere baring of teeth. His muscled arm came up and pointed at Alex. “In the car—now.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Alex dropped her gear and planted her hands on her hips.
Her four companions snickered nervously, then backed away, leaving an open aisle, which Nate stomped across in nothing flat. Alex held her ground with that go-ahead-push-me-a-little-more light in her dark brown eyes, which Ty had seen often enough to take seriously.
Nate hadn’t. He didn’t stop until he looked straight into her face. “I understand . . . if you’re afraid.”
Alex snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Yeah? Then get your ass in the car.”
A few seconds of silence hung over the group before Alex spun around and tromped toward the garage with Nate on her heels. Apparently surprised she’d given in so easily, no one else moved.
Ty finally found his tongue. “Bring her back in one piece, Nate.”
The big man waved one arm and didn’t turn around. Ty wasn’t worried. That car was Nate’s baby. He might be pissed as hell at Alex, but he wasn’t about to let anything happen to his car.
A minute later, the ground rumbled as the 1969 Ford Mustang Mach I roared to life. Nate had rebuilt the car a little at a time, painting it hunter green right down to the hood scoop and shoehorned a 428-cubic-inch Cobra Jet motor under the hood. The car hauled ass.
They shot backward out of the garage. Nate slammed on the brakes and skidded the car around, sending dirt and gravel flying. He held the brake and revved the engine twice, then slammed it in gear and the car sped forward. Alex’s uninhibited whoop drifted back to Ty and brought Rayna to the forefront of his mind.
If You Only Knew Page 24
