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by Catherine Bybee


  Trina’s hand shook as she showed him her phone. “Ruslan is there.”

  Cooper turned a full circle.

  Trina pointed on her phone. “At the concert. This is him.”

  Avery pushed to her feet and limped over to see.

  “Who sent you this text?”

  “I don’t recognize the number.”

  Cooper put his gun away and picked up his phone as the one in Trina’s hand rang.

  It was Lori.

  “Reed just got a text.”

  “So did I.”

  “Ruslan is in Vegas.”

  Trina tried to calm her breathing down. “I know. What do we do?”

  “Reed will be on a plane and in Vegas before the show lets out.”

  The phone beeped in her hand, and Trina pulled it away from her ear to see who was trying to break through. “It’s from that number again. A video call.”

  Trina didn’t hesitate as she disconnected with Lori and picked up from the anonymous caller. She half expected to see her ex-father-in-law on the other side of the line.

  She didn’t.

  Sasha’s image flickered into place. “Are you both there?”

  “I am.” Trina heard Reed’s voice but didn’t see his face.

  “I am,” Trina said.

  The noise in the background where Sasha was calling blared into the phone.

  “First thing. Calm the hell down. I have him in my sight. Second . . . get off your fucking phones. I can’t jam all your shit at once. Reed, you’re secure, Trina’s phone isn’t on the map yet. I take it someone yakked on a text about the information at the bank.”

  “Lori took pictures.”

  “Which means Ruslan knows what you have on him.” Sasha had a half smile on her face. “And he’s nervous.”

  “What is he doing there, Sasha?” Reed asked.

  “Right now he is watching the cowboy’s show from the back east end of the arena.”

  “He isn’t there for a social visit.”

  “No, he’s grasping at a lifeline. How soon will you be here, Reed?”

  “I’m getting in my car now, forty minutes in the air once I’m on a plane. I’m an hour and a half out, sooner if I can push the pilot.”

  “Bring reinforcements. He’s reaching the end of his freedom, and he won’t go out alone if he can take someone with him. He has tabs on all of you. Radar on the locations of your phones, texts, and e-mails. Lori, Avery, Shannon, Wade . . . everyone. The only secure contacts are these three lines. Do I make myself clear?”

  Trina couldn’t stop shaking.

  “Yes.”

  “He has five men. Two flanking him, two on the side of his main man.”

  “We need to warn Wade,” Reed said.

  “I’ll take care of that. Telephone conversations only. No texting, no e-mails. Now get on the plane, Reed. You owe me. This is going down tonight. It ends, tonight!”

  Just when Trina was about to hang up, Sasha spoke to her in Russian. “I have waited a lifetime for this day, don’t panic and fuck everything up.”

  “Don’t let anything happen to him,” Trina pleaded.

  Sasha hung up without comment.

  Chapter Thirty

  He loved his job. The screaming women calling his name and telling him they wanted to have his babies, the men waving their hats in the air, his audience never got old. From ballads to songs meant to swing your honey around the dance floor, Wade sang and danced around on the stage. Much as he tried to pick out a face here or there toward the back of the crowd, he couldn’t make out much past the first ten or twenty rows. Those fans screaming and taking videos of him in the first few were given plenty of winks and smiles.

  Before he finished his fourth song, Wade tracked a familiar face in the second row.

  What was Jordyn doing there?

  The woman didn’t know when to quit.

  He didn’t think anything outside of putting a ring on Trina’s finger would stop her from trying. Even then, he could see Jordyn flirting with a push-up bra and a smile.

  Wade shook his head when she made eye contact, and then directed his attention beyond the second row.

  The band worked their way into the fifth song, and Wade lost himself in the music. Forty minutes into his set, Sebastian began his drum solo, giving the three of them a couple of minutes offstage.

  “The crowd’s on fire,” Luke said when one of the stagehands gave him a cold water.

  Wade found Jeb within spitting distance. “How are we doin’?”

  Jeb gave him a thumbs-up.

  “I saw Jordyn down there. You know about her being here?”

  Jeb shook his head. “I can keep her away if you want.”

  “No. I’ll take care of it after the show.”

  “You got it, Boss.”

  Wade rolled his eyes while someone handed him a fresh shirt. He stripped down to his jeans and shoved his arms in right as Sebastian was finishing up. He managed one button before taking the stage again.

  The ladies roared.

  You can look, he mused. But I have someone special that gets to touch.

  They played into the second half of the show.

  When Wade scanned the first couple of rows, Jordyn wasn’t there.

  Maybe she got the hint.

  Or maybe she was waiting in the wings to corner him.

  Unable to help himself, Wade sang his way to the left side of the stage and glanced toward Jeb. A woman was walking away, but Wade couldn’t tell who she was.

  He pushed Jordyn out of his mind and sang to Trina, even though she wasn’t there.

  That’s when he noticed his mother.

  She filled the spot where Jordyn had been, her eyes wide and her smile just as brilliant as ever.

  He mumbled the words of his own song and faked his way through.

  He had to concentrate or he’d end up singing his frustration with her presence.

  He made a motion with his hand, as if to tell his mother to stay right where she was so he could keep an eye on her.

  She smiled, like she did when he was in the fourth-grade talent show, and Wade forced himself to relax.

  He made it through the song and turned to Gus. “Buy me a few minutes.”

  There weren’t many times he couldn’t make it through a set without needing to pee, so Gus looked confused. Then he smiled and started a slow intro to the next song.

  Wade rushed offstage to find Jeb.

  By the time he got back out, his mother had already disappeared from the audience, and Wade relaxed.

  Ruslan lifted his phone after it buzzed in his breast pocket.

  Everything is set. Waiting for your instructions.

  Much as he didn’t like being this close to the action, he wasn’t about to leave this up to just anyone to handle.

  With a final glance toward the stage, Ruslan turned on a heel and strolled away. Two hired hands flanked his sides.

  He slowly made his way out of the arena and onto the casino floor.

  Eyes followed him, he could feel it.

  He paused at a craps table, made eye contact with a busty blonde, then turned and walked away. The hotel elevator took him up to his room on the twenty-eighth floor. Double doors opened to an empty suite.

  His guards flanked the doors, once they were shut, and folded their hands.

  Ignoring the “No Smoking” sign on the bar, Ruslan lit up a cigar while he poured himself a drink.

  He looked at his watch.

  Wade’s show should be ending any minute.

  Ruslan put his phone to his ear.

  It rang once.

  “Put me on speaker.”

  His voice was encrypted.

  He waited until he heard a female voice.

  “You’re going to look into the camera and say exactly what I tell you to say.” He pulled two silver balls from his pocket and shuffled them between his fingertips.

  “Who the hell are you?” The woman screamed the question.

 
; “Remind her of her manners.”

  Ruslan waited, heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

  She cried out.

  “Now . . . let’s do this again. You’re going to look into the camera and say exactly what I tell you to say.”

  “Okay, okay. Don’t hurt me. I have money. Please don’t hurt me.”

  Ruslan’s hands itched to be the ones inflicting pain.

  Wade said a final good night to the crowd while he and the band took a bow and waltzed off the stage.

  The roadies swept in after them, collecting anything they left behind, while the lights in the arena lit up, signifying that there weren’t going to be any more encores.

  Jeb was at his side as one of the roadies shoved Wade’s cell phone into his hands.

  “Where is my mother?” Wade felt Jeb’s energy before the man opened his mouth.

  “We gotta go.”

  Two more bodyguards flanked Wade’s front and back, their eyes in constant motion.

  “What happened?”

  “Wade?” Gus called out as he stepped close.

  One of the bodyguards cut him off.

  Jeb pulled on Wade’s arm.

  “Where is Vicki?”

  Jordyn ran up behind the stagehands. “You were on fire tonight.”

  Wade didn’t look at her twice. “Jeb?”

  He paused. “We can’t find her.”

  Wade’s blood chilled. “Where is my mother?”

  “Wade?” Jordyn pushed between him and Jeb.

  “Did you bring her here?”

  “Who?”

  “Vicki? My mom?”

  Jordyn placed a pout on her lip. The one that she’d used to get her way when they were dating. Wade saw through it then and hated it now. “I want a second chance. Your mother loves me. Doesn’t that count for something?”

  Wade pushed Jordyn aside. “Where is she, Jeb?”

  The background music in the stadium filled the PA.

  Wade started for the stage again as his bandmates gathered around.

  “What’s going on?” Gus asked.

  “My mom is here.”

  Gus smiled. “Where? I could use a dance partner tonight.”

  Wade turned to Jeb.

  “We can’t find her.”

  Panic, like nothing Wade had known before, filled every cell in his body.

  “We need you out of here.”

  “Not without my mom.”

  Jeb took hold of Wade’s arm and didn’t let go. “Ruslan is in the building. I have the house security at every exit.”

  “What’s going on, honey?” Jordyn’s words made him want to throttle her.

  Wade turned, put two fingers in front of Jordyn’s nose. “Did my mother tell you it was a risk for her to come?”

  “She said there was some drama with your new friend . . .”

  “Trina is more than a friend. That drama—”

  “Wade? We have to go!” Jeb pulled on his arm and didn’t let him finish his sentence.

  “We’re over,” he called behind his back. He forced his feet in the direction Jeb was pulling. “Make sure she gets home.”

  “I already have that handled.”

  In less than two minutes, Wade was tucked into the back of an SUV and driving away from the venue.

  “I need to be back there, looking for her.”

  Jeb had his phone in his hand, the receiver to his ear. “How far could you look? The front row?”

  The driver took the corner too fast while Wade’s phone buzzed.

  He pulled it from his pocket, saw his mother’s number pop up on the screen with a photo text.

  He clicked on the image and froze. “Good God.”

  “Wade?”

  “Sweet Jesus, Jeb, look at this.”

  His mother was tied to a chair, her lips swollen.

  “You can’t have my son. Kill me. I don’t care.” The image switched to what looked like a live feed outside of a ranch house that looked familiar. The scene flashed to Trina helping Avery inside the doors of her house. His heart plunged. The next video image was of Trina’s father, and a woman who Wade had to assume was Trina’s mother, as they sat half-asleep on a sofa, watching a television. The image then switched to a high-rise building he’d never seen before, then to Aunt Mavis’s living room. “My bombs will kill everyone you love.” Someone offscreen lifted a gun and placed it on his mother’s temple.

  “No. No. No!” Wade screamed into the phone.

  Vicki closed her eyes, pulling away from the barrel of the gun as far as she could.

  The screen went dark.

  “What the hell?”

  Jeb’s face was just as horrified as Wade’s.

  Wade’s phone buzzed.

  Turn the car around.

  Wade pushed on the front seat. “Turn the car around.”

  “Hold up, Wade. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here.”

  “Yes we do, we’re dealing with a sociopath. Call Reed, turn the car around, show them we’re following instructions.”

  “The phone isn’t secure. If I call Reed, Ruslan will know.”

  Wade looked at the driver. “Is his phone secure?”

  Considering Wade had never seen the driver before in his life, he assumed the man wasn’t connected to any of them outside of a car service.

  “Give me your phone. Turn the car around, find traffic.” Which, on the Vegas Strip on a Friday night, wasn’t a problem.

  The driver handed Wade his phone.

  “Reed and Trina have the only secure lines.”

  Since Wade had memorized Trina’s new number instead of putting it in his directory, he dialed it first.

  “Hello?” She sounded distraught.

  “Oh, baby, are you okay?”

  “Wade?” She started to cry.

  “Shh, I’m okay. Listen carefully. Get out of the house, but don’t leave through the front gate. Call your parents, my aunt. There was a condo . . . high-rise, I don’t know who that is.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He has bombs. Get everyone out quietly. There are cameras everywhere.”

  Wade’s personal cell phone buzzed.

  Fremont Street

  Wade showed the text to Jeb, who told the driver where to go.

  “What does he want?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll find out. He has my mother, Trina. At gunpoint.”

  “No.”

  “I’m headed toward Fremont Street.”

  “He’s desperate.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Stop it. Get out of the house and tell Reed where we are.”

  “Please be careful.”

  Wade hung up. “Now what?” he asked.

  “Even if Trina manages to get everyone else out, he still has Vicki,” Jeb said. “He needs her for leverage.”

  “Which means he won’t kill her.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Trina used a conference call function and dialed Reed’s and Sasha’s numbers.

  Sasha answered first. “This had better be important.”

  “Talk to me” was Reed’s answer.

  Trina ran through everything Wade had told her while Cooper maneuvered Avery through the house and out the back door. Cooper had spoken directly to the cameras Trina knew were being monitored by Reed’s team, and with any luck, they were evacuating the locations as rapidly as Trina was preparing to leave her Texas home.

  “Fremont Street?” Sasha clarified.

  “That’s what he said.”

  “How far are you out, Reed?”

  “Getting off the plane now.”

  “I have my eye on Ruslan. You find Wade and he’ll lead you to the girl.”

  “You know where Ruslan is?” Reed asked.

  “He’s sitting in a hotel room, far away from anyone with a hostage. He’s a murderer, but he isn’t stupid. I have him, you take care of Mr. Country and his mother.”
r />   “I’ve got to go. Wade said he had a bomb here, and I can’t have one more death on my conscience,” Trina said.

  “Go, Trina, get out of there. Leave the cars behind. Ruslan likes planting bombs in cars.”

  “How do you know all this?” Trina asked Sasha.

  Sasha didn’t answer. “Reed. I need an all clear when you have the hostage.”

  “You got it.”

  The line went dead.

  Trina glanced at the faces looking at her. Cooper held Avery under her shoulder. Trina’s housekeeper, Stella, stood clenching her bathrobe. “We head to the barn, quietly. Do you know how to ride a horse?” she asked Cooper.

  “How hard can it be?”

  “He can ride with me,” Avery said.

  Trina crossed to the fireplace and removed the shotgun that hung on a rack over the hearth. She pulled back the stock to find it loaded with two rounds. “If this is some ploy to get us out of the house, it worked, but we won’t do it unarmed. Avery, bridle two of my mares. I’ll wake the Folsoms and get them out.” The Folsoms were a husband and wife team that handled the livestock.

  “Not without me,” Cooper said.

  “And leave Avery and Stella alone? No, you stay with them. I will wake the Folsoms. We don’t have time to argue.”

  “Damn it.”

  “Let’s go.” Trina opened the door and felt a rush of unexpectedly cold Texas air.

  With a laptop open, Ruslan watched the blips on his monitor for sudden movements.

  Texas was sleeping. No one in. No one out.

  Wade’s aunt snored like a truck driver.

  Trina’s parents had gone to bed without realizing that their room over the garage would be blown to pieces if he made the call.

  But the target Ruslan wanted to pull more than any was the bitch lawyer’s building in Los Angeles. He couldn’t get close enough to place the explosives in her room, but they were close enough to keep her from sleeping soundly for the rest of her life.

  Blips on the radar told him no alarms had been sounded.

  Wade’s locator placed him two miles outside of Fremont.

  There were men there to take him once he stepped out of the car. He was the hostage that would get Trina to do whatever Ruslan wanted.

  The last two miles to Fremont Street were excruciating.

  Jeb handed the driver’s phone over to Wade. “Reed.”

  “Hey.”

  “How ya doing?”

 

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