by Rebecca Deel
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
About the Author
NO REGRETS
Rebecca Deel
Cover by Melody Simmons
Copyright © 2018 Rebecca Deel
All rights reserved.
#
To my husband, who constantly amazes me.
CHAPTER ONE
“Everybody down on the ground. Now.”
Sasha Ingram froze. Screams rang out in the normally quiet building. The terror on the teller’s face convinced Sasha this wasn’t a joke. Her bank in idyllic Otter Creek, Tennessee was the target of a robbery.
She’d waited ten minutes later than normal to deposit Perk’s revenue for the day, hoping to have another one-sentence conversation with a certain black ops soldier who didn’t return for his usual second cup of coffee today. If Sasha had gone to the bank on time, she wouldn’t be here now.
“Did you hear what I said, lady?” a second male voice said. “Get on the ground.” He punctuated his point by jabbing something hard into Sasha’s back and shoving her to the floor in front of teller row.
She fell on her hands and knees, her dark hair swinging forward and obscuring her vision. A heavy weight settled on her back and shoved Sasha flat, keeping her pinned there like a bug. “Hey!”
“Shut up.”
Sasha frowned. “Get off me, you oaf. I can’t breathe.”
“You won’t be breathing at all if you don’t close your trap and do what we tell you,” he growled, his voice sounding like he’d eaten a bowl of gravel for breakfast.
She turned her head enough to see the second robber. He was dressed in black from head to toe, including the iconic ski mask covering his face and the gun in his hand. Assuming these two bozos didn’t become twitchy and kill all the bank’s occupants, the police would need some kind of description to catch the criminals. Her description wouldn’t help them catch anyone. In fact, the operative she’d been mooning over the last few months wore the same thing every day sans the mask. He filled his clothes out better than these guy, though.
The first robber threw a sack to the teller. “Fill it up. Hurry.” He practically danced in place, reminding Sasha of a nervous rabbit.
“Please don’t hurt me.” The teller’s voice quivered.
“No talking. Just do what we say and nobody will be hurt.” A moment later, Rabbit tossed another bag to the second teller, an older woman whose eyes burned with fury. “Same for you, lady. Hurry up.”
When the tellers finished, the goon still holding Sasha down with his foot asked his partner, “What about the vault?”
“No time,” Rabbit snapped. “We did what we’re supposed to do. Let’s go.”
Tires screeched outside the bank. Both robbers cursed.
Sasha raised her head enough to peer through the window and saw flashing lights in the front. Thank goodness. One of the bank employees must have triggered a silent alarm. Since the police station was across the square, the officers had responded fast.
“What are we going to do?” Gravel asked.
“We got what we came for. We just need a little insurance.”
Insurance? Sasha’s stomach knotted. She had a horrible feeling she knew what his statement meant. Glancing around the interior revealed she was the only customer in the bank at the moment. The rest of the occupants were employees.
“You’re coming with us,” Gravel said, waving his gun at the young teller who had deposited Perk’s proceeds for the day.
“No, please.” The teller sobbed. “Don’t take me. I have two little girls at home.”
The man holding Sasha down shifted his weight and grabbed the girl by the arm. “You either come with us, or I’ll shoot you where you stand.”
Her shrill screams filled the room as the petrified woman struggled to free herself.
“We don’t have time for this,” Rabbit said, glancing nervously out the front door. “Let’s just go.”
“We have to follow the plan,” Gravel said.
One moment Sasha was on the floor. The next, she found herself on her feet, a hairy arm across her throat and her back pressed against Gravel’s chest.
“We’ll take the mouthy one.” He shoved one of the money bags in her hands and propelled her down the back hallway.
“You won’t get away with this.”
“Shut up.” His hold on her neck tightened, making it hard to breathe much less talk. “Be smart, lady. Play nice and you might live another hour.”
Rabbit peered carefully out the back door, then motioned for his partner to bring Sasha. Though she dragged her heels, Sasha didn’t have leverage. Gravel had several inches of height on her. He simply moved her along at a faster clip. Once through the door, he shoved her into the backseat of the waiting car and pushed her to the floor, once again holding her in place with his booted foot.
“Give me the bag,” he ordered. When she complied, he pitched that bag and the second one on the alley asphalt and slammed the door shut. “Go,” he ordered his partner.
The men had tossed the money and kept her? Why rob the bank if you didn’t intend to keep the cash? She hoped these yahoos weren’t crazy because crazy didn’t bode well for her getting out of this in one piece.
Car tires squealed as Rabbit raced from the alley. Men shouted for the driver to stop. Shots rang out and car windows shattered. The two robbers cursed, but Rabbit didn’t slow down.
He groaned. “I’m hit.”
“How bad?” Gravel demanded.
“I don’t know. It hurts bad.”
“Can you make it to the house?”
“I think so.”
“If you can’t, find a safe place to stop and I’ll take over.”
“You should give up now,” Sasha said. “Your friend needs medical help.”
“I told you to keep quiet.” A second later, the robber slammed the butt of his gun on the side of her head and Sasha’s world went dark.
She woke to the sound of two men arguing. For a moment, she couldn’t place them. Memories of the robbery and being abducted flooded her mind. Great. She was still in the hands of the two would-be robbers.
Sasha opened her eyes to slits and saw nothing. Pulse pounding in her throat, she opened her eyes wider, strained to see anything and breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed a sliver of light.
Because the bank robber had slammed the butt of his gun on the side of Sasha’s head, she had a blinding headache to go along with a world-class case of nausea.
Pain in her shoulders and side registered. Sasha tried to adjust her position and discovered her hands were
bound behind her back. She flexed her hands and while the binding moved with her, she didn’t create more room to slip her hands free. Zip ties, maybe. Giving up on freeing herself for now, she concentrated on exploring her dark prison.
Carpet fibers tickled her fingers as she maneuvered into a sitting position. She gritted her teeth as her stomach pitched and rolled. Although she hated being in the dark, in this instance darkness was good. She didn’t want to know how much worse her headache would be if the lights were on.
Sasha scooted until her back was pressed against a wall. No windows and the room felt small. A closet?
She needed to escape, but from the sound of the men’s voices, they might be in the next room. Instinct told her remaining quiet would be her best option. She didn’t want to antagonize the bank robber who already proved willing to hurt her without a qualm.
When Sasha shifted to take pressure off her shoulders, her hands brushed against her back pocket. She stilled. Her cell phone was still in her pocket. Since she wore a heavy sweater with a long hem, the robbers had missed it.
She twisted her hands to one side and wiggled her phone from her pocket. The instrument dropped to the carpeted floor. She waited to see if the men noticed the small noise. The argument continued unabated.
Calling for help would be easier if her hands were in front of her body. Sasha thought about the logistics for a moment. She scrunched into a tight ball and inched her body through the circle of her arms. When she finished, Sasha leaned against the wall a moment to catch her breath.
Feeling around for her phone, she scooped it up and crawled as far from the door as possible. Sasha tapped in her code and turned to face the corner, hoping to dampen the sound of her voice. If the robbers caught her with the phone, there was no telling what they would do to her.
She frowned as her finger hovered over the keypad. How would she tell the police where she was? She’d been unconscious when she was transported inside. Perhaps the police could track her phone signal.
Sasha dialed 911.
“911. What is the nature of your emergency?”
“My name is Sasha Ingram. I’m being held hostage. I need help.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know. They knocked me out. I woke up in a closet.”
“I’m notifying the police chief. Stay on the line, Sasha, and remain quiet. We’ll find you.”
“Tell them to hurry.”
A minute later, a deep voice filled her ear. “Sasha, it’s Ethan. Can you talk to me?”
“For now.”
“How many kidnappers are we dealing with?”
“Two men.” The argument in the other room continued and the only voices she heard were the two men who took her from the bank.
“Armed?”
“Handguns. One of them is injured.”
“Do you know how bad?”
“No. The other one knocked me out.”
“Are you injured?”
“Massive headache where the guy hit me with his gun.”
“Do you have any idea where you are?”
“I wish. They shoved me onto the floor of the backseat before one robber knocked me out. How will you find me, Ethan?”
“Stay calm, Sasha. Don’t antagonize them. Keep the phone on and with you. We’ll track your signal. If they take you out of the closet, pay attention to your surroundings. Help us out with clues if you can without putting yourself in danger. When help arrives, go to the ground as fast as you can.”
“Yes, sir.”
The sudden silence on the other side of the door made Sasha’s skin crawl. The floor creaked as someone approached.
“Someone is coming.”
“Hang on. We will find you.”
Sasha grabbed the phone and shoved it into her pocket without ending the call. She believed Ethan would find her. The question was, would he find her in time to save her life?
CHAPTER TWO
Today was the day. Cade Ramsey’s stomach tightened into a knot at the thought of asking the beautiful coffee shop owner to go to dinner with him. He swallowed hard as he scaled the climbing wall on Personal Security International’s obstacle course for the final leg of the training session with his team. He sidled over the top, leaped to the ground, and sprinted to the finish line where his team leader, Trent St. Claire, waited with the stop watch.
Cade routinely faced down insurgents, built and defused bombs as the EOD man for his team, all without breaking a sweat. Looking into Sasha Ingram’s sparkling eyes, he became a tongue-tied idiot and the butt of his teammates’ jokes.
He couldn’t wait any longer to make his move. A couple trainees and one Fortress operative had hit on her in the past two weeks. If he didn’t find a way to talk to her, Cade would lose his chance. One thing he would never do was poach on another man’s territory.
He crossed the finish line and bent over at the waist, sucking in much needed air as his teammates surged past him.
Trent scribbled down their times on his clipboard. “Good time.”
“But?” Liam McCoy, the team’s sniper, glanced up from his sprawl on the ground.
“We can do better. We have to do better.”
Simon Murray, Liam’s spotter, sent Trent a wry smile. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
“He’s right.” Matt Rainer, Bravo team’s medic, dragged in a deep breath and straightened to face the rest of them. “We might be roughed up from the last mission, but we can’t let the trainees outshine us. We’d never hear the end of it.”
Roughed up? Cade scowled. Every one of them had wounds from their latest rescue mission in Ecuador. They’d gone into the jungle to free a handful of missionaries from guerrillas out to make a name for themselves in the world of terrorism. The guerrillas might have been ill trained, but they had been well armed and unafraid to waste bullets. Each member of Bravo had come away from Ecuador with bullet or knife wounds. At least all the missionaries had been liberated without injuries to them.
“Are we finished here?” he asked Trent.
“Got a hot date?” Liam teased. “Oh, wait. You can’t have a hot date because you can’t talk to the woman of your dreams.”
Cade frowned as his teammates dissolved into peals of laughter. “All right. Laugh it up, guys. I need to shower. I have stuff to do.” A certain woman to track down.
“Hit the showers,” Trent said. “Check in with me before you take off for the night. PT first thing tomorrow morning at 6:00 sharp.”
Good-natured groans filled the air as Cade and his teammates headed for the instructors’ locker room. Fifteen minutes later, all of them assembled in the hall. Trent ran down his observations for the training session, pointing out places where they could improve their time and work better as a unit.
Before he finished, his cell phone signaled an incoming call. Trent frowned at the screen. “Wait,” he told his team, then answered the call. “St. Claire.” His frown deepened as he listened, gaze locking with Cade’s. “Where, Ethan?”
His leader’s fierce expression made Cade’s muscles tense. Whatever Trent was hearing from Otter Creek’s police chief wasn’t good. A glance at his teammates showed their attention had sharpened to mission-ready focus.
“Do you have a lock?” A pause. “Give me the number. Murphy can track the phone signal long before you obtain legal permission. I’ll text you the info as soon as we have it.” He ended the call, his attention on Cade. “The bank in Otter Creek was robbed. The two men took a hostage. Ethan needs a SWAT team. Since Durango is on a mission, we’re on call.”
Cade’s nape prickled. “Who is the hostage?”
“It’s Sasha.”
He’d known, and yet the news hit him like a physical blow. Matt grabbed his shoulder to steady Cade when he stumbled back. “How long have the robbers had her?”
“Almost an hour.”
“Breathe,” Matt murmured. “You won’t be any good to her if you can’t function.”
Thos
e words snapped him out of the daze. He clenched his hands and straightened with a short nod. “I’ll call Zane.”
“The rest of you suit up. We need to roll as soon as Z points us in the right direction.”
Cade paced the hallway as his call went through to Zane Murphy, Fortress Security’s tech and communications guru. If anyone could find Sasha, it was Zane. The former Navy SEAL was scary good at his job. More alphabet government agencies than Cade could name wanted to hire Z. He refused all offers, preferring to stay with Fortress.
“Yeah, Murphy.”
“It’s Cade Ramsey. Need a favor, fast.”
“Name it.”
He rattled off Sasha’s cell phone number, a number engraved in his memory. Just because he hadn’t used it yet didn’t mean he wasn’t prepared. “Ping the signal and pinpoint a location. Hostage situation.” He hesitated a second, then said, “It’s Sasha, Z. A bank holdup gone wrong. She was taken.”
“Might take me a couple minutes.”
“Hurry.” Cade’s voice broke. Tracing a phone signal took time, but he feared it was time Sasha didn’t have. The bank robbers must be desperate to take a hostage. How long would they keep her with them, alive and unhurt?
“Hold.” Keys clicked in the background. He heard Zane talking to someone, his voice muffled. More keys clicking.
Cade berated himself for being a coward and not pursuing a relationship with the coffee shop owner sooner. The possibility he was too late and would lose his chance forever gutted him. No more. He wasn’t waiting any longer. Of all people, he knew life was short and could end in the blink of an eye.
“Got her. I’ll text the address and send the link to your email. I have another call coming in, but I’ll keep an eye on her signal. If the location changes or stops, I’ll let you know.” And he was gone.
Cade glanced at the address, scowled. Other side of the county. Great. More delays in reaching Sasha.
Trent strode from the locker room, dressed in black fatigue pants, long-sleeved t-shirt, bullet-resistant vest, Ka-Bar on one thigh, his Sig strapped to the other, a rifle in one hand and his Go bag in the other. “Anything?”
