Dominic nodded, then took Juliette’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “How many men have been staying in this house?”
“Um . . .” She took several hiccoughing sobs and wiped her eyes. “Five.”
“Are there any other hostages besides you?”
“Yeah. I’ve only seen him a couple of times, but there’s a man, a really handsome one.” Her voice quavered. “They cut out his eye, like they did with the others. I heard him screaming when he woke up and realized what they did to him.”
Levi’s hand was white-knuckled around the scissors he was still clutching. Dominic shot him a quelling glare and shook his head minutely. If Juliette panicked any more than she already was, she’d become a serious liability.
Four men down meant one man left—the guy at the rear of the house who’d retreated from their makeshift smoke bomb. Since none of the kidnappers they’d brought down so far had been Ramon Acosta, aka Carl Trujillo, it must be him. He’d probably ensconced himself in the room where they were holding Barclay.
“I want you to hide in the closet and lay flat on your stomach,” Dominic said to Juliette. “Bullets can go through walls, so stay as low as you can and don’t come out until the police tell you it’s safe. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.”
Dominic helped her into position, double-checked that the bound kidnapper was secure, and met Levi and Rebel at the door. “If this guy’s been backed into a corner, he’s gonna be dangerous.”
The sharp planes of Levi’s bruised, scarred face were thrown into even greater contrast by the flickering shadows. He said nothing as he looked at Dominic, but Dominic knew what he was thinking: Not more dangerous than me.
Dominic led the way as they emerged from the room. There were only two bedrooms left to search, but he detoured through the living area first to ensure Acosta hadn’t slipped out one of the sliding glass doors.
As soon as Dominic got close enough to see the doors through the gloom, he knew that would be impossible. Though he hadn’t been able to tell through the blinds from outside, both sliding glass doors had been secured from the inside with slabs of sheet metal—lowering the risk of intrusion, but also preventing easy escape.
It was a good thing they hadn’t set the house on fire, after all.
The middle bedroom was empty, leaving only the master. Dominic and Levi stopped on either side of the door, out of the line of fire in case Acosta decided to take a page from his buddy’s book, but all Dominic heard was the sound of heavy breathing.
No risk, no reward. Dominic kicked the door open with an almighty crash, then ducked inside, primed to shoot at the first sign of movement. Levi and Rebel entered behind him on either side, only for all three of them to draw up short at the sight that awaited them.
Stanton Barclay was sitting in a folding chair, facing the door, his wrists behind his back and his crossed ankles bound with zip ties. Juliette hadn’t oversold him—he was a handsome man, like a matinee idol plucked from the golden age of cinema—but now his tanned skin was sallow, his thick hair in disarray and matted with sweat. His left eye was swathed in bandages.
Ramon Acosta stood behind him, one arm wrapped loosely around Barclay’s neck and the other hand pressing a gun to his temple.
“No,” Barclay breathed, his remaining eye widening. “God, Levi, what are you doing here?”
“One more step and I blow his brains out,” said Acosta.
Levi made a soft noise of distress. Dominic couldn’t risk taking his eyes off Acosta for even the second he would need to glance sideways, but he knew Levi must feel like he was trapped in a living nightmare.
This was the third time Levi had found himself in this exact situation—first the hostage situation with Dale Slater at the Tropicana, then the hospital where Keith Chapman had used another officer as a human shield before killing himself.
Levi still hadn’t recovered from the trauma of those first two events. A third would destroy him.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Acosta said, with only a hint of unsteadiness to his voice. “I’m going to leave, and I’m taking Mr. Barclay with me. You two won’t follow me. When I’m a safe distance away, I’ll let him go.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Levi said. “I’m not letting you leave here with him.”
“Then I’ll kill him.”
“If you do that, you’ll still end up getting arrested, just with an additional murder charge.”
As if magically summoned, the wail of police sirens rent the air. About fucking time.
“See?” Levi shrugged one shoulder. “There’s no way out of this for you.”
Acosta ground the gun harder into Barclay’s temple. “Then maybe I’ll just kill him out of spite.”
Barclay gasped. Levi took an abrupt step forward, one hand outstretched.
A single ounce of pressure on the trigger, and Dominic could send a bullet through Acosta’s brain. He could probably get the shot off before Acosta murdered Barclay.
Probably.
“Take me instead,” Levi said.
Dominic went cold. Barclay had a similar reaction, judging by the frantic way he began struggling against Acosta’s hold.
“No, Levi, don’t! Just let him take me, please, I’ll be—”
Acosta’s arm tightened around Barclay’s throat, cutting off his voice. “I’m listening.”
“I’ll help you get away.” Levi raised his hands as he took another step toward the chair. Acosta’s eyes flicked to the scissors Levi still held, and Levi hastily shoved them into his pocket before lifting his hands again. “You have a better chance of evading capture with a cooperative hostage, especially one with my experience. Once we’re free and clear, you can do whatever you want to me. You just have to leave the others unharmed.”
Barclay loosed a wordless cry of protest, kicking his bound legs. The sirens grew ever closer, and Acosta seemed to be considering Levi’s offer.
“No,” Dominic said. “This isn’t happening.”
Levi turned sorrowful eyes toward him. “Dominic—”
“Let me rephrase,” Dominic said mildly. “What I’m saying is that I will not allow this to happen.” He met Acosta’s gaze straight on. “If you attempt to leave this room with either of these men, I will kill you. If you harm either of them in any way, I will kill you. And if by some miracle of chance my shot misses, my dog will tear out your throat.”
Rebel’s growl ripped through the room. Although she wasn’t in his line of sight, he was sure she looked even more fearsome now, with the last mercenary’s blood staining her muzzle and dripping from her jaws.
Dominic’s two-handed grip on his gun was rock-steady. “Any option other than your immediate and unconditional surrender doesn’t end with you in handcuffs. It ends with you in a body bag.”
In his peripheral vision, he saw Levi gaping at him. Dominic sometimes wondered if Levi ever thought about what it meant that Dominic had been a Ranger—if he ever considered the things Dominic must have done in eight years of war, or if he ever asked himself how many men Dominic had killed.
Taking a human life was never a trivial matter. But it also wasn’t something Dominic flinched from when it was necessary.
“Unless you’re ready to die today, put your weapon on the floor and kick it toward me,” he said.
There was a charged moment in which nobody moved. Dominic breathed slowly and evenly, his finger light on the trigger, prepared to do whatever he had to.
With a frustrated groan, Acosta released Barclay. He set his gun on the floor, kicked it in Dominic’s direction, and backed up with his hands in the air.
Dominic put his foot on the gun and sent it sliding even farther away. Levi rushed forward to kneel at Barclay’s feet.
“You’re okay,” he said, pressing both hands to Barclay’s cheeks. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Why did you come here?” Barclay’s voice broke. “You shouldn’t have come, Levi, you shouldn’t have ris
ked it. You could have died.”
“I’ll always come for you.” Levi moved behind the chair, where Dominic assumed Barclay’s wrists were zip-tied like his ankles.
The sirens were right outside now, the cops shouting to each other as they surrounded the house. Dominic reluctantly holstered his gun; he didn’t want his own head blown off when the police came inside.
As Levi pulled the scissors out of his pocket to cut Barclay’s bonds, Barclay’s head fell forward, his shoulders heaving with sobs. Tears streamed down his face from his intact eye.
Acosta sneered at him. “Yeah, he cried like a little bitch after he found out about his eye, too.”
Levi went still.
Dominic’s stomach dropped, and he stretched out both hands. “Levi, don’t.”
Levi had remained cool since he’d received the kidnappers’ message, dealing with one threat and obstacle after another without ever truly losing his self-control. But Dominic had been dreading this very moment the entire day.
Because Levi Abrams didn’t do cold. When he frosted over, it was only to conceal the building fire of rage within. And once that inferno was unleashed, it inevitably demolished everything in its path.
Levi shot to his feet, grabbed Acosta’s head with one hand, and jammed the scissors into his eye.
“Holy shit!” Leaping forward, Dominic seized Levi’s arms and dragged him away. Levi went with him, unresisting, dropping the scissors to the floor as Dominic manhandled him to the far side of the room.
He was laughing.
Screaming in agony, Acosta collapsed to his knees. Blood gushed from behind the hands he’d clapped over his eye.
The police poured into the room then, shouting for everyone to get down on the ground. Dominic pulled both Rebel and Levi with him to the floor, but even over the clamor of booming voices and tromping boots, the only thing he could hear was that terrible, mocking laughter.
“Don’t say a word,” Leila said as she strode into the interrogation room. “I mean it, Levi. Don’t even open your mouth.”
Levi couldn’t have spoken if he wanted to; he was too shocked by her presence. He’d been languishing in this room in the Boulder City Police Department all night, and there was no reason for her to be here.
“The city attorney invited me as a courtesy.” She sat in the chair on the other side of the table. “Frankly, I got the impression that nobody in this entire city wants to touch any of your drama with a ten-foot pole, and I don’t blame them, because you are a disaster.”
He leaned back with a sigh. What was he going to do, dispute that?
“What makes it worse is that you always know that what you’re doing is stupid while you’re doing it, but it never stops you.”
True, though Levi remained firm in his conviction that some things in life were more important than behaving with perfect rationality at all times. Some risks were worth taking no matter the danger. If he and Dominic had acted any differently yesterday, the kidnappers would have either gotten away with Stanton or killed him. Now Stanton was safe, and Levi was willing to accept whatever the consequences might be for himself.
Leila folded her hands on top of the table. “The city attorney has elected not to file any charges against you.”
Levi bolted upright, his mouth falling open in pure astonishment, but he closed it at her warning glare.
“It’s his opinion that, because your actions last night were in defense of an innocent loved one and led to the capture of five wanted criminals, it would be too difficult to convince a jury to return a guilty verdict, and therefore not worth the expense to the taxpayers.” She paused. “It probably doesn’t hurt that he’s afraid the Seven of Spades would come after him if he tried to put you in jail. Basically, the city wants to wash its hands of you as quickly as possible.”
“But—” Levi pressed his lips together until she gave him a brisk nod. “What about . . .” He glanced at the camera in the corner of the room and gestured vaguely to his eye.
“It’s a funny story,” she said, though her tone was devoid of any humor whatsoever. “On the way to the hospital, Ramon Acosta seemed to have been swearing up and down to anyone who’d listen that you’d gone all Old Testament on his eye. While he was waiting in the ER, a few members of Los Avispones came in with superficial stab wounds—which is particularly interesting because Los Avispones don’t operate in Boulder City. They ended up being treated in the cubicle next to Acosta’s, and after they left, Acosta suddenly recanted his story. He’s now claiming he can’t remember what happened or why he looks like he’s starring in a community theater production of The Pirates of Penzance.”
Blood buzzed in Levi’s ears. Los Avispones must have threatened Acosta on behalf of the Seven of Spades; there was no other explanation.
Blinding Acosta was the only thing Levi had done yesterday that he regretted. Sitting in this room all night had given him plenty of time to stew in his remorse and self-loathing, reliving the sickening memory over and over. While he was largely optimistic that Sawyer could have him acquitted of any charges, part of him believed he didn’t deserve that.
What he’d done to Acosta was aggravated battery with a deadly weapon and serious bodily harm, a Class B Felony carrying a prison sentence of two to fifteen years. He hadn’t hurt Acosta in self-defense or to protect someone else; it had just been psychotic, bloodthirsty vengeance. He should be punished.
Instead, he was just . . . going to get away with it? That wasn’t right.
Shoving his self-centered concerns aside, he said, “Dominic?”
“Dominic was executing a legal warrant in his capacity as a bail enforcement agent and is properly licensed to operate a firearm. He was released hours ago.” Correctly anticipating Levi’s next questions, Leila added, “Stanton is safe at the hospital with a police guard, just in case. All five kidnappers and Juliette Dubois are in custody. They’ll be transferred back to Las Vegas later today to face every charge I can dream up.”
“Rebel?”
Leila smiled. “She spent some time with the local K-9 unit while Dominic was giving his statement. She’s fine.”
Levi exhaled slowly, relieved that any fallout from the night before would rest on his shoulders alone. Even in the absence of legal charges, he was going to have serious explaining to do in his IA investigation. There was still a chance he’d lose his job.
“Am I free to go, then?”
“Yes. Believe me, Boulder City can’t wait to get rid of you.”
After he took care of some paperwork, Levi’s personal effects were returned to him, and he met up with Leila again in the lobby of the police station. She caught his arm before he could walk outside.
“If it weren’t for the guardian devil looking over your shoulder, you’d be fucked,” she said, able to speak more freely now that there was no chance of them being recorded. “You’d definitely be out of a job, and you’d be facing prison time. Don’t brush that off just because things went a different way.”
“I wasn’t planning to.” Levi opened the door for her, then followed her into the parking lot, where the sun was just beginning to rise. “Are you too angry with me to give me a ride back to Vegas?”
“There’s no need.” She pointed across the lot.
Dominic was sitting on the hood of their rented Explorer, his hands clasped between his dangling legs.
Levi’s heart skipped a beat. Rolling her eyes, Leila said, “See you later,” and started in the opposite direction.
“Wait! I never thanked you.” At her blank look, he said, “For sending Sawyer to me the night I was suspended.”
She frowned. “I didn’t.”
“What?”
“I didn’t ask Sawyer to take your case. Don’t get me wrong, I would have. He’s a douchebag, but you couldn’t ask for a better defense attorney. I didn’t even find out about your suspension until the next day, though.”
Now it was Levi’s turn to be confused. “Why would he lie to me about t
hat?”
“Probably knew you wouldn’t accept his help any other way,” she said with an indifferent shrug. “Drive safe.”
She continued to her car. Levi spent a moment processing this new information, then decided to let it go—as far as secrets went, this was probably the least of Sawyer’s.
He crossed the lot until he was standing in front of Dominic. “Did you tell Martine—”
“About Carolyn Royce? Yeah.” Dominic spread his hands. “I’m sorry, Levi, but Carolyn’s long gone. It looks like she took off as soon as her husband was arrested.”
Though Levi hadn’t expected anything else, the news was still a blow. At least they’d rounded up everyone else associated with the kidnapping ring. “Is Rebel in the car?”
“No. I dropped her off with Carlos and Jasmine.”
“You . . .” Levi shook his head, baffled. “You brought her to Las Vegas and then drove all the way back here to wait for me?”
“Yeah.”
That was a half-hour drive each way. Levi cleared his throat and glanced aside, unable to maintain eye contact.
Dominic hopped off the car. “Can we go somewhere to talk, maybe get something to eat? In Vegas, I mean. I’m pretty sure the local PD has orders to bodily escort us past the city limits if we don’t leave by the time the sun’s up. We never cause them anything but trouble.”
Laughing softly, Levi rounded the car to the passenger’s side. “I could use some coffee.”
Levi dozed off during the drive. Though the adrenaline of Stanton’s rescue and his anxieties about the consequences had kept him wired during the long hours alone at the police station, the fact that he hadn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours was beginning to catch up with him. Dominic had to shake him awake when they arrived at a diner near his hotel.
“Would you rather just go back to your room?” Dominic asked.
“No. You were right, we need to talk.”
They didn’t, though. They took a private corner booth and sat in silence until the server stopped by and they both ordered coffee. After she left, Dominic stared down at his laminated menu as if his life depended on reading every single word.
One-Eyed Royals Page 25
