by Jo Davis
“You bastard,” he seethed. “Where’s Eve?”
“Taking a little nap at the moment. Don’t worry. You’ll be together soon.”
The way he said it, Sean didn’t doubt that meant in death. God, please let her be okay. Get her away from this lunatic.
Pulling on the jeans, he refused to wince at the pain from his bruises. His enemy was getting far too much satisfaction from having the upper hand for him to show weakness. After he had the jeans on, he stood waiting, fists clenched.
“This, too.”
A T-shirt hit him in the chest, and he caught it, yanked it on.
“Let’s go.”
The four goons hauled him out of the house, into the night. On the way, he saw Eve’s purse and some of the contents scattered on the living room floor, and his gut clenched in fear. If he lost her, it didn’t matter what Jesse did to him. He’d rather be dead than go through that hell again.
Outside, he was dragged a fair distance down his driveway, as far as one could get from the house and still see it. Abruptly, he was pushed to his knees in the grass facing the house, and he thought for a dizzying moment that he was going to be shot execution-style in his own front yard.
He should have known Jesse wouldn’t settle for something that simple.
“Nice place you’ve got there, old friend,” Jesse called loudly. “But I think it’s time to renovate, don’t you?”
At the flick of his hand, one of the men stepped forward, a small device in his hand. And, before Sean could yell, pressed a button.
And his house exploded with an earth-shaking roar, engulfed in an orange ball of flame. He stared in disbelief as shrapnel rained down, pelting the trees.
His home, gone. Destroyed.
He looked up, locked gazes with Jesse, who sneered at him. “Before we’re done, you’ll burn, too.”
Snatching a rifle from one of his goons, Jesse flipped the butt toward the ground and slammed it into Sean’s skull.
15
1991
“It was an honest mistake,” Jesse rasped. His tan hand with the IV rested on his chest, stark against the white bandages. “I was confused. Didn’t mean to draw down on Connors. Tell them!”
“You’re asking me to lie.” Sean swallowed, sick at heart. Mired in endless hell. Little did Jesse know, he’d already told the truth.
He’d find out soon enough.
“I’m asking you to have my back. You owe me.”
“I owe you nothing. I know what I saw, and I did what I had to do.”
Jesse stared at him a long moment before his gaze slid away, suspicious moisture in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. “You said I could always count on you.”
Oh, God. “That was before I knew about the drugs, the weapons. Before you tried to murder one of our brothers in cold blood.” He backed away, toward the door. Had to run, far from this pain. “You made your bed, Jesse. I’m done.”
And then he did run, as though he could escape the agony rending his chest at Jesse’s hoarse declaration.
“No man stands against Jesse Rose. If it takes the rest of my life, that’s a lesson you’ll learn well.”
Plink. Plink. Plink.
Consciousness returned in slow degrees. With awareness came pain. With pain, the knowledge that he was still alive. Alive and cold. Shivering.
His arms and legs were frozen. No, that wasn’t right. He tried to move them and realized they were bound and his feet were submerged in frigid water. With his movements, he also became aware that there was someone next to him. Leaning against his body.
Cracking open one eye, he took in his surroundings. A halogen lamp hung on a concrete wall, throwing eerie shadows on his tubular prison. Tubular? What the hell.
A tunnel. A man-made one. Where the hell was he?
A groan brought his head around to look at his fellow prisoner. His pulse lurched. “Eve? Can you hear me?”
“Sean? What . . . ?”
She raised her head, gazed into his eyes. He’d never beheld a more welcome sight. A secret part of him was terrified she’d been in the house when Jesse blew it sky-high.
“Listen, baby. We’re in a tunnel of some sort. I’m going to—”
“Jesse got me when I tried to run back inside. I wasn’t fast enough. I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He wished he could hold and reassure her. “There’s nothing you could do. He was going to get inside one way or the other. The important thing is getting out of here.”
A metallic scraping noise from above echoed loudly through the tunnel. A manhole cover being moved aside? Footsteps descended down the rungs, legs coming into view. The body crowded past where he and Eve were bound to the metal ladder, and jumped into the knee-deep water with a splash. Jesse regarded them with a smirk.
“Good, I see you’re awake. I much prefer you to be fully aware of what’s going to happen to you and your lovely town.”
“And I suppose you can’t wait to tell me.”
“How’d you guess?” He waved a hand at the tunnel wall behind him. “See anything special? Look high.”
Sean squinted into the gloom. The light from the lamp didn’t quite reach the top, but now that he knew to look for something, he spotted what had Jesse so pleased with himself.
“You sick fucker.”
C-4, stuck to the walls. Wired to blow.
“Like my masterpiece?”
“Where the fuck are we?”
“In the drainage system underneath downtown Sugarland. These tunnels go for miles, did you know that?” He chuckled. “But I won’t need that much to turn the whole city into a smoking crater.”
“You’ll kill innocent people,” he hissed. “People who have done nothing to you. It’s me you want. So why don’t you take me somewhere away from here, settle this privately?” Beside him, Eve made a small sound of distress.
“But that would be too anticlimactic. This is pay-back, old friend. You have to die knowing that your betrayal of me came at a high price.” He stepped forward, his face in Sean’s. “And my enemies will be reminded that I’m a man of my word—anyone who stands against me will learn a valuable lesson. No matter how long it takes.”
With that, his fist slammed into Sean’s stomach, taking his breath away. He bent as far as his bonds would allow, gagging. When the waves subsided, he straightened and glared at Jesse, determined not to let him win.
“All I’ve learned is that the young man I loved like a brother never existed. He was a pale imitation of a man with character who threw a good life away for hatred and power. God, I pity you.”
Jesse snarled in outrage, delivering a few more punches to his stomach as Eve cried out desperately for him to stop. Sean’s knees sagged, pulling against his bonds, and his head hung forward. A fit of coughing made him sick, but he managed not to throw up. Barely.
Jesse stepped toward the ladder. “I’ll be back, and when I return, me and your pretty lady here are gonna have some fun before I send you both to hell.”
He climbed up the ladder and was gone. Sean couldn’t hear much over the roaring in his ears.
“Did—” He gasped in pain. “Did he replace the cover up there?”
“No, I don’t think so,” she said, voice wavering.
“Okay. I’m going to work on these bonds and get us loose. Then I’ll tell you what to do.”
“Hurry.”
The ropes at his wrists were damned tight. He struggled, twisting, working them for what seemed forever. Loosening them, a millimeter at a time. His wrists burned, became slick with what he assumed was blood. But if he didn’t get these off, a few scars weren’t going to matter. Ignoring the pain, he pushed on, rubbing them raw.
Finally, one hand came free and he shouted in triumph. “I’m loose!”
“Good! Hurry!”
Quickly, he shook the other one free as well and bent to get his feet. Grimacing, he plunged his hands into the murky, smelly water and knew a round of antibiotics was in
his near future—from his chest cold not to mention whatever bacteria lurked in the sewage.
Freed, he went to work on the ropes at Eve’s wrists. “Don’t worry, honey. Almost done.” Her whole body was shaking with cold and terror.
He got them loose and then worked on her feet. When that was done, he gave her a fierce hug and kiss. She clung to him for a few seconds, then pulled away.
“Let’s get the hell out of here!”
“You’re going without me. I need for you to call—”
“What? No!” Her eyes were huge in her face. “I can’t leave you down here!”
“Listen to me.” He took her hands. “I need for you to climb up the ladder and get help. Find a phone, call Nick Westfall, and tell him what’s happened. Tell him about the tunnels and to get here, fast.”
“But you have to come with me! That lunatic is coming back!”
“Yes, and if he finds us gone before the Feds arrive, he’ll blow the charges. I know him. I still remember enough of my military training to disarm them. They’re pretty simple.”
“Sean, please come with me,” she pleaded.
“Scoot, baby. I don’t have time to argue about this. I’ll see you soon, okay? At the police station. We’ll meet there. Go!”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I love you.”
“Love you, too. Now go before he comes back.”
She turned and shimmied up the ladder. He didn’t rest easy until she called down, “All clear up here. We’re near the diner. I’m going there to use the phone.”
“Got it!”
Adrenaline rushing through his veins, he surveyed Jesse’s sinister handiwork affixed to the walls. Shit. He wasn’t nearly as confident about handling explosives as he’d been twenty years ago. Dealing in death hadn’t been in his job description in a very long time.
Now was perfect for a crash course.
He set to work, as quickly as he dared without unwittingly bringing about the end himself. While he dismantled the explosives, his mind focused to a laser point on how to turn the tables on Jesse.
And staring down at a wire in his hand, the solution became very clear.
Jesse Rose, along with his campaign of terror, was about to be history, as he should have been long ago.
“What do you mean, his fucking house blew up?” Howard shouted into his phone. Kat, who’d been lounging in her robe watching the news and patting her pregnant belly, rose with an effort, eyes wide.
“What I said! It blew up,” Captain Lance Holliday yelled back. “Burned to the ground. I’m standing right here in the front yard watching it burn, and there are police and fucking FBI everywhere, man! FBI? What the fuck! I don’t know what the hell is going on!”
Oh, God. “Was he home? Tell me he wasn’t!”
“His Tahoe is here, Howard. I’m sorry.”
“I’m coming over there.”
“See you.”
He hung up and faced his wife. “Sean’s house just burned to the ground,” he choked out. “Lance said it blew up. His truck is there.”
“Oh my God!” she gasped. “I want to go with you.”
“Not a chance, angel. I don’t want you anywhere near there. Just lock up behind me and I’ll call you when I know something.” He paused in the act of grabbing his wallet and keys off the kitchen counter. “You can do something for me.”
“Anything, you know that,” she said softly.
“Call the team and let them know.”
She nodded, face pale. “I will.”
He rushed out, moving fast.
And prayed his best friend hadn’t been home.
Breath hitching, Eve ran away from the manhole, shoes squishing. Nearly faint with panic, she ran toward the town square, toward the lights. Toward help.
Every step away from Sean was a stab wound to her heart.
He should’ve come with her, not stayed to play hero down in a dank tunnel full of explosives. He was sick and injured. If Jesse came back—
No. She couldn’t allow herself to think that way. She’d get help, bring them here. Everything would be fine.
Reaching the diner, she nearly fell over with relief. She burst inside, heedless of the startled glances of a few folks having coffee and dessert. The dinner hour was long past.
Barely able to catch her breath, she grabbed the hostess by the arm. “I need to use your phone. It’s an emergency.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Hey, sure, no problem. There.” She gestured to a phone sitting by the register.
“Thank you.”
Stumbling over, Eve snatched it up and dialed 911. Waited.
“Nine-one-one, please state your emergency.”
“I need the police downtown, at the Sugarland Diner,” she panted. “No, not just the uniformed ones. Detective Shane Ford and, um, Kayne. T-Taylor Kayne. The chief. Hell, send everyone!”
“What is your name, please?”
“Eve Marshall, Sugarland Fire Department.” That would help give her call, which was going to sound like a wild tale, more credence. Get them moving faster. She hoped.
“Can you tell me what’s happening?”
“Jesse Rose has wired the drainage tunnels under downtown with explosives! He’s going to blow up the whole damned town!”
“Jesse Rose, you said? And you’re saying this is a terrorist threat?”
“Yes! I need the FBI, too. There’s an agent here working on this case who’ll know exactly what’s going on. Nick Westfall. Someone has to call him. Now, please!”
“All right. I’ve got units on the way to the diner now. I’ll notify the detectives of your call, and they will notify Agent Westfall if necessary.”
“Believe me, it’s necessary. Send lots of units. Downtown will have to be evacuated. We’ll need the fire department here, too, to block off the streets.”
“All right, Ms. Marshall. Stay on the line with me until our units arrive, okay?”
“Yes, fine. Just hurry.”
Within two minutes, a police car pulled up and parked in front of the diner. As Eve stared, incredulous, one cop got out.
“Okay, the unit has arrived, so you can hang up,” the dispatcher said. “Good-bye.”
“Wait!” The click sounded in her ear and she nearly screamed in frustration. Pushing out the door, she met the cop on the sidewalk.
“Eve Marshall?”
“Yes. I call in a terrorist threat and you’re all I get?” she hissed. “Someone’s ass is toast for this!”
The look he gave her said, Speak slowly and calmly to the crazy lady. “Ma’am, you know phoning in a fake bomb threat is a serious offense, don’t you?”
“Jesse Rose has wired the drainage system downtown with explosives,” she insisted. “He’s a known terrorist that the FBI is here to apprehend. Get either Shane Ford or Taylor Kayne on the phone. They’ll know what I’m telling you is true. For God’s sake, don’t you guys get briefed before every shift, especially if there’s a terrorist around?”
The man paused, and his entire demeanor changed. “Jesse Rose. Shit, that’s right! Hang on and I’ll call this in.”
“You do that. And tell them to get here, fast. My fiancée is down in that tunnel trying to disarm the explosives, and if Jesse comes back and catches him—God.”
He nodded. “Be right back.”
Eventually she’d have to tell the whole story of how Jesse had kidnapped them, but there wasn’t time right now. She listened as the officer sat in his car and spoke into his cell phone, but she couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. He made more than one call, however, and, when he was done, joined her on the sidewalk again.
“Got hold of the chief and Detective Ford. They’re sending a bunch of units out to evacuate the few businesses that are still open, and the fire department will block off the streets. Thank God it’s late and almost everything is closed.”
“Yes.” A huge blessing.
“Ford said he’d just talked to Kayne, and the man told him a fire
captain’s house blew up tonight. Sean Tanner. Said he’s your boyfriend. That have anything to do with this?”
“Wait a second—his house blew up?” She stared at the cop, trying to process what he’d just said.
“That’s what Kayne told him. The place is nothing but a pile of burned rubble.”
“Oh my God,” she gasped. Sean’s home, his children’s things. His mementos. All gone.
How much more could the man take?
“Again, is that connected to what you’re telling me about Rose and the drainage system?”
She shook herself. “Yes. Jesse and his men kidnapped us at my boyfriend’s house tonight and tied us up down in the tunnel. When we woke up, Rose showed us the explosives wired inside the tunnel. He left, Sean got us loose, stayed behind to disarm them, and sent me to get help.”
“That explains some stuff. The cops and firefighters on the scene think Tanner was in the house. I’m sure Ford will tell them, though.”
She nodded, past thinking about anything other than Sean. Fear clawed at her lungs and she knew she had to get to him.
That she had to wait was driving her insane.
Nick stalked the yard in front of the captain’s house, furious. Men gave him a wide berth as he made his way to his partner.
“How did this motherfucker lose us, Jack? We’ve been watching him for days, and he just makes like a ghost. Now he’s possibly murdered a good man who was trying to help us. Fuck!”
Enraged and miserable, they stared at the glowing remains of Tanner’s home. Nearby, Detective Kayne stuck close to Captain Holliday of the fire department, in case the firefighters found something in the rubble.
A Ford truck came skidding into the yard, the driver braking hard. The door swung open and one of the biggest men Nick had ever seen jumped out, scanned the area. The man’s jaw clenched, his expression a mixture of dread and fear. He saw Holliday and made a beeline straight for the captain. Nick wandered closer to hear better.
“Was he home? Have you found anything? Heard from him?”
“Not yet. We’ll find him, Six-Pack. I promise you.”
Easy to see how the man earned that nickname. He could likely break any man here in half without breaking a sweat.
