Brigid yelped and grabbed the handle above her window, keeping the phone held out toward him so he could hear.
“It’s a shit show,” Force affirmed. “Rockcliff is inside with Dana and has the blinds drawn. More than likely has the alarm engaged as well. Just a sec.” A pounding erupted, and then he was back. “We’re keeping him occupied as much as possible, but it’s not going to last long. He knows you’re coming, and he’ll want you to find a mess.”
A mess. As in, Dana bloody and dead.
Damn it. Rock no doubt knew about the explosion of his lab, and now he’d want revenge. Possibly, he wouldn’t have anything to lose. “How did he find her?”
“Dunno,” Force gritted out.
Okay. Think, damn it. “He’ll be expecting me to knock down the front door.” Wolfe cut through a field, risking the undercarriage of the vehicle.
“Yeah. What are you thinking?” Force asked as more pounding echoed through the line.
“What are you doing?” Wolfe asked, swerving to avoid a downed tree trunk. Where had that come from?
“We’re approaching from different entry points, keeping him looking for us. He fired out of the bedroom window a few minutes ago.” Force yelled something that Wolfe couldn’t make out. “I don’t want anybody without combat training here. Mal sent Pippa off with the truck. Brigid? You get in with Pippa and get clear. Okay?”
Brigid shook her head. “No. I’ll be nearby in case somebody gets hurt and needs a ride to the hospital.”
Force sighed. “That’s exactly what Pippa said. I have no doubt she’s at the edge of the lane right now, disregarding Mal’s orders. And mine.”
Wolfe didn’t have time to worry about it. “I’m approaching from the north right now and will park and run so Gary doesn’t hear another vehicle. I don’t want him to know I’m there until I’m in front of him.” He looked at a very pale Brigid. “How do I disengage just one area of my alarm without going to the panel? Like one window?”
They hit a bump, and she dropped the phone onto her lap. “You need to go to the panel or disable the sensor somehow. Where is the panel?”
“It’s in the garage, hidden behind a false wall.” A plan started to form in his head, and he took a turn into the forest, stopping when there wasn’t any more room for the car to maneuver. “We’re about half a mile away, and I’m going to run from here.” He secured her phone and opened his door. “You stay here or retreat the way we came and meet us on the road. But stay away from the house. Yeah?”
“Okay.” She scooted over to the driver’s seat. “Good luck, Wolfe.”
“Thanks.” He turned and ran through the forest, his boots pounding, his ribs feeling as if they were cracking open, one at a time. Images of Dana propelled him faster, his lungs struggling with this newest fight.
Gulping, he circled around the trees to the side of his house, crab-walking between the trees and crouching against his fence, pressing speed dial on his phone.
“Force.”
Wolfe ducked down lower, swearing at the clear night. It was hot and humid with no cloud cover. “Here’s my plan.” He slowly laid it out, finishing with, “So, I go in first, and then you guys breach from every direction.” Hopefully shock and awe would throw Gary for just enough time.
Force was quiet. “That’s crazy.”
Wolfe closed his eyes against a wave of terror at what Dana was going through. “It’s all we’ve got.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Dana fought against the ropes binding her wrists as she sat on the sofa. She instinctively knew that telling Rock she was pregnant would be a mistake. “You’re going to get us both killed,” she said.
He finished attaching some weird putty to the front door and added a piece of metal to it, tweaking something with his back to her. “Yeah, but think how beautiful the blast will be.” He smoothly moved to the front window, his pack in hand. “I’ve never felt the heat of a blast, you know. Sure, I’ve set a bunch and watched everything disintegrate, but I’ve never felt that.”
God, he was crazy.
Kat howled from the pantry, and Roscoe still hadn’t moved.
Dana waited until Gary started affixing another device to the front window before edging closer to the table. He’d put the gun away after tying her hands, so now was her only chance.
“You move and I’ll cut you,” he said, not turning around. “I’m going to cut you anyway, but it’ll happen sooner rather than later if you try to run.” He looked over his shoulder, his now blank eyes freaking her out. “I wouldn’t mind getting started, but I have a couple more windows to do first.”
She gulped down fear. He’d already wired the back slider, the door to the garage, and the windows in the master bedroom and bathroom. The office was the only window left. “You don’t have to do this. If you jump out of the office window, you can run and they won’t chase you. They’ll be worried about me.” And Roscoe. She didn’t want him to focus on the dog again, so she didn’t mention him. “Just go, Gary. Live a new life or something.”
He chuckled, finishing with the device. “Live a new life? Wolfe will never stop coming, and you know it.” Snagging her bound hands, he pulled her off the sofa and shoved her toward the office. “This ends today.”
She stumbled and then walked, trying to see if Roscoe was still breathing. Red matted his fur, and his eyes were closed. Was he moving? She couldn’t tell.
Gary shoved her harder, and she fell into the office, landing on her side. Pain blew up her forearm, and she twisted, kicking out and trying to trip him. He sidestepped her and looked down. “That wasn’t nice.” Pulling his boot back, he kicked her in the thigh.
Agony exploded in her leg, and she cried out, her eyes filling.
Pounding came from the front door this time. Gary shook his head. “They think they’re distracting me.”
How could she let them know the place was wired? If she yelled, he’d be on her in a second, and he’d promised to cut out her tongue. But could she get enough of a warning out first? Probably not.
He grabbed her by the hair and lifted, shoving her into the desk chair. “Sit here and shut up for a minute.” He patted her injured leg, and she gasped, leaning forward as the pain attacked her again. He laughed. “You’re going to be fun. I can already tell.” He reached in his pack, turned, and carefully set up another device.
Tears slid down her face and her nose started to run. She grabbed a tissue from the desk, struggling since her hands were bound. “How did you find me, anyway?” Telling him about herself hadn’t helped, but maybe if he talked about himself, she could buy a little more time.
He finished with the device and zipped up the backpack. “Once I knew about you and had a couple of pictures of you and Wolfe from the wedding, it was easy. A quick search online, and your interview with Angus Force came up.”
Oh yeah. After they’d caught the Senator, she’d immediately taped an interview with Force. “So you figured that I was working with Angus Force.”
“No. I figured that Wolfe was working with Force, and you were dating Wolfe.” Gary turned around and tossed his pack into the corner. “It was a surprise to see you leaving Force’s office.”
“You followed me from there?”
“Yes. I stayed far enough away that you wouldn’t notice and then parked, running a few miles until I found these two bungalows. It took a couple of tries, to be honest.” He looked around the room. “This area is too small.”
She was going to puke, but she set the tissue down and smoothly grasped a blue pen. “Why did you kill Candy?”
He moved to the closet to open it. “Wolfe doesn’t have any good sex toys, does he?”
Her stomach heaved. “No,” she croaked.
“Shoot.” Gary shut the closet door. “I killed Candy because she was yet another nosy bitch, like you, and she deserved to die. Like you,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
“What about Theresa Rhodes? You must understand love.”
He chuckled. �
��Love? No. Her mind impresses me, and she has a hell of a body as well as excellent contacts in the heroin trade.” His gaze darkened. “Unfortunately, she’s smart enough to have planted evidence that will hang me if she’s ever harmed. Guess she thought I might kill her at some point.”
Now that was terrifying. Dana tried again. “You must feel something for her.”
“Sure, but she makes stupid mistakes.” He shrugged. “Or maybe just untrained ones.”
Dana swallowed. “Like hiring those two guys to shoot at me after the Captive party or hiring the two gangbangers to take me out after I identified my friend’s body?” Her stomach lurched.
Approval filled Gary’s eyes. “You are smart. Yeah. Hiring any of those morons was a stupid move, as was drugging both you and Wolfe. I made her regret those actions, if that helps. Well, for a while, anyway.” He clapped his hands together. “She called off the gang hit afterward, not that that matters any longer. Let’s go back into the living room. The couch is a good cream color that will soak up blood nicely.” He reached for her hands.
She jumped up, striking the pen up into his jaw, using her legs for power. As the pen sank in, Gary stepped back, his eyes widening. Turning, she lunged through the doorway, going for a knife in the kitchen.
He caught her by the hair, yanking her back and throwing her against the wall. She impacted with her shoulder. The pen was still in his neck. She scrambled to her feet, her body shaking. He laughed and pulled the pen free, spurting blood. “I’m going to stab you with this, too.” He grabbed her by the neck and threw her into the living room.
She landed on the sofa and bounced, turning and scrambling away from him, her back to the sofa’s arm.
He pulled the knife from its sheath, blood dripping from his jaw.
She fell off the sofa, crawled around the coffee table, and backed away. Something shattered in the master bath.
Wolfe!
Gary must’ve realized at the same time. He jerked and lifted the knife, rushing at her, aiming for her neck.
* * *
Wolfe dropped from the skylight in the master bath, and his knife sheath hit the mirror, cracking it loudly. Damn it. He bunched his body and exploded through the bedroom, skidding into the living room as Gary rushed at Dana. He kicked off the wall and leaped to intercept him, shoving his hand between her neck and the knife.
The blade cut into Wolfe’s palm, going through.
In one smooth motion, he twisted and pushed Dana out of the way. “Get out of here,” he ordered, throwing his free elbow at Gary’s head.
Gary yanked the knife free, and Wolfe hissed in pain as blood spurted from his hand. The phone was connected to his vest, and he leaned down to yell at Force. “Breach now.”
“No,” Dana cried, waving her hands. “Don’t breach.”
“Stand down,” Wolfe ordered.
Gary punched him in the neck, and he saw stars. Grunting, he ducked his head and charged the asshole, hitting his midsection and lifting him. They came down hard, smashing the coffee table into bits of wood and glass. “Dana, get out of here,” Wolfe yelled, punching and trying to block hits, rolling to the side and coming up on his feet.
“The place is wired. Every window and exit,” she yelled, her bound hands waving wildly.
“Except the damn skylight,” Gary bellowed. “You dick.”
He had to stop the team. “We’re wired. Got that?” Wolfe said into the phone.
“Affirmative,” Force said. “You got this?”
“Yeah.” Wolfe’s left hand might never recover, and his strength was ebbing, but he wasn’t going to let Dana down. He feinted and then kicked Gary in the face. Blood was already flowing from his neck, or rather, from beneath his jaw. “You okay, Dana?” Gary stabbed at him, and he blocked with his forearm to the handle, bending down to release his own knife.
“Yes.” She ran into the kitchen and fumbled in some drawers. “Roscoe was shot. We have to get out of here.”
Gary’s eyes gleamed. “I guess it does come down to you and me.” He twisted the weapon around in a reverse knife grip technique with the blade in. “I’m gonna kill you and then take my time with her.”
“You talk too much.” Wolfe swung with his knife, drew back, and side-kicked Gary in the ribs.
Something crunched.
Gary hissed and edged to the side, dodging and weaving, looking for a weakness. “It wasn’t nice of you to blow up my heroin.”
“I was bored and needed a hobby.” Wolfe matched his movements.
Gary swiped with the knife, and Wolfe ducked, not seeing the punch to the temple coming. Gary landed the punch, and lightning exploded through Wolfe’s head. He flew into the television set, smashing the screen. Gary rushed for him, and Wolfe pivoted and connected with an uppercut that ricocheted up his arm and down to his bruised ribs.
Gary’s teeth snapped together and he went down, his shoulders hitting the ground. He used the ground to push off, flipping all the way over and landing on his feet.
Wolfe charged, blocking and striking, seeking to draw blood. He fought hard, methodically, countering every strike with one of his own. He refused to feel pain, looking for any opening. A kick to the knee caught him unaware, and he twisted, going down to his other knee.
Gary jump-kicked and nailed Wolfe’s wrist; his knife went flying across the room.
“Wolfe!” Dana yelled.
He went from his knees to his feet, his hands out and ready. Gary attacked, knife slashing rapidly, steadily advancing. Wolfe blocked each slash, trying to protect his face and neck while sacrificing his forearms. Pain cut into him sharper than the blade.
Gary kicked him in the knee again, sending Wolfe onto the other one. Smiling with bloody teeth, Gary flipped the knife around, grabbed the handle and struck.
Wolfe drew on all of his strength, spun on his knee, launched up and side-kicked Gary in the ribs. Gary emitted a shocked oof, and bent over. Bellowing, Wolfe landed on his feet and instantly kicked up, catching the bastard beneath the jaw and throwing him across the room.
Gary yelled as he impacted the front window, which instantly exploded.
Wolfe turned away, but the blast hit him, blowing him into the kitchen, where he smashed the table into bits. His ears rang. He coughed out dust and chalk, rolling over to spit out blood. “Dana?” he gasped.
She was on her knees with the dog’s head in her lap, protected from the blast. Tears slid in dirty rivulets down her face while debris fell on her. “We have to get you to a hospital.”
Force came through the front window first, followed by the rest of the team, all with guns out.
Wolfe reached for a damaged kitchen chair and forced himself to his unsteady feet. He wavered and then stood. “I’m fine. Roscoe needs help.”
Force dropped into a slide, reached the dog, and picked him up, running toward the broken window again. Malcolm followed him, while Raider reached Dana and helped her up.
“Gary?” she croaked.
“Dead,” Raider affirmed. “Very.” He looked over at Wolfe. “You need help walking?”
Wolfe shook his head, and it almost exploded faster than the window had. He wrapped a towel around his hand.
“You need a doctor,” Raider said, shoving a shoulder beneath his arm while also keeping hold of Dana. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”
“No,” Wolfe said, allowing Raider to help him to the front window. “If Dana’s okay, I want to go to the vet’s or wherever they took Roscoe.”
“Me, too,” Dana said, grabbing Wolfe’s hand. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” Wolfe winced and limped toward the sill. Roscoe hadn’t looked good.
Chapter Forty-Four
Dana accepted the bottle of water from Pippa, and seated herself on the wide padded bench next to Wolfe at the Cottage Grove emergency veterinarian hospital. The Deep Ops team took up the entire small waiting room with Raider and Brigid in seats by the fish tank, Mal, Pippa, and Nari near the door, Serena
and Millie on a couch by the wall. Angus paced back and forth at the reception desk, his face hard and unreachable. Kat was under Mal’s chair, watching everything with wide eyes.
Wolfe’s head was back against the wall, his legs were extended and crossed at the ankles, and his eyes were closed. Fresh bruises from his fight with Gary mingled with older bruises along his neck and face. He’d bandaged his hand.
“It has been two hours,” Dana whispered, reaching out to rub his forearm. “Shouldn’t they be done?”
His eyelids opened.
Something wet, very wet, covered her palm. She lifted her hand to see red. Bright red. “What in the world?”
Raider immediately approached and pulled up the black sleeves of Wolfe’s military gear. Bloody gashes covered Wolfe’s forearms.
Dana gasped. The black material had covered the cuts. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was worried about Roscoe. These aren’t deep,” he rumbled, seeming unconcerned.
Raider frowned. “You’re losing too much blood, dumb ass.” He reached for one of Wolfe’s shoulders just as Malcolm crossed the room and grabbed the other. The two men hauled him up, giving him no choice. They pushed him around the receptionist desk.
“Hello?” Malcolm called. “We have a wolf here that needs stitches.” They disappeared down the long hallway.
Dana stared at the blood on her hand and gagged. The room spun, so she closed her eyes, leaning back the way Wolfe had. She stayed in that position for at least thirty minutes, until she couldn’t stand the blood on her hand any longer.
Glancing down, she saw that the liquid had started to dry, cracking on her skin. Sucking in air, she stood and hurried to the restroom to wash off her hand. She waited at the sink, trying to control her stomach. This night was too much. She started shaking and couldn’t stop, her teeth chattering. Tears flowed down her dirty cheeks, and she coughed.
“Dana?” Wolfe called through the door.
“Wolfe,” she said, trying to regain control between the two sinks.
He opened the door and walked in, his boots clomping on the small square tiles. His bare chest was mottled with bruises, and fresh bandages now covered his forearms and hand. “Whoa.” He reached for her.
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