Rescuing Melissa (ALPHA TEAM: Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists)

63. A Hero

SIXTY-THREE

A Hero

MELISSA

Something popped inside Melissa’s knee, sending shards of pain shooting through her leg. She crawled away from the mayhem, a nearly impossible task with an injured leg and hands cuffed behind her back. Still, she managed to find a place of safety against the left side of the van. When she was far enough from the fighting, she wiggled her good leg through her cuffed hands. Biting against the pain, she stretched to get the cuffs around her injured leg, thanking long hours of yoga practice for excellent flexibility.

With her arms now to the front, she pulled herself up the driver’s side door. The effort exhausted her, and she leaned against the van, panting with exertion. She tried to leverage herself to standing, but a brief test of her leg found her knee buckling beneath her weight.

Behind the van, the men fought.

She spared a quick glance. Scott and Pierce had knives. Pierce’s opponent parried with bare hands, while the other man faced off against Scott with a wicked blade of his own.

Scott’s face had lost all his sophisticated elegance, his enraged visage, feral and wild, was not something she would ever forget. He and his opponent circled, each man looking for an opening to attack. Their steps brought Scott closer to where she cowered against the van.

With her hands clutching the side mirror, Melissa forced herself to balance her weight on one foot. She couldn’t undo the cuffs, they were locked tight, but she didn’t need her hands free to drive.

Those men, whoever they were, had to be with CJ. He wouldn’t have let Scott take her if he hadn’t had a backup plan.

Was CJ still trapped in that hellhole?

Scott’s knife slashed. Droplets of blood spattered. The man fighting her ex-husband cursed, and a stripe of red bloomed on his shredded shirt. He came at Scott with a swipe of his blade cutting into Scott’s arm. Scott staggered back.

Scott lunged, driving his opponent back with a thrust. But he aimed too high. His knife hovered in front of his opponent’s face; his wrist captured in the grip of his opponent.

Melissa grabbed the door handle, intent on climbing inside and away from Scott, but a mass of flailing arms came at her. Belle pulled her to the ground.

“No! You belong to him. You serve him!” Belle’s brand of crazy filled the air. She kicked and spat and clawed at Melissa’s face.

“Get off me!” She slapped at Belle.

Belle flipped Melissa onto her stomach, and a shock of pain lit her knee on fire.

“You will not run.” Wildly insane eyes blinked at Melissa.

With her good leg, she kicked, connecting with Belle’s gut. Pierce’s slave doubled over, clutching at her belly. Melissa kicked a second, and then a third time, scooting herself further from the psychotic woman and moving away from the van, closer to where the men fought.

And then she saw him. CJ sprinted across the field with Mac and Jenny by his side.

How had they escaped that dungeon?

Melissa bit her lower lip and swallowed an excited cry.

A fist caught her jaw, swinging her head to the right. Stars filled her vision. Belle was back on her, kicking, screeching, and scratching again.

With a curse, she defended against the madwoman. Her knee throbbed, the pain making her want to retch. All fists and arms, she couldn’t throw Belle off, and with her hands bound, it was impossible to restrain the raving lunatic.

Grunts sounded to her left. Flashes of steel glinted in the fading light of early dusk. Belle straddled Melissa, holding one hand on her wrists and the other pressing into her wounded knee.

Melissa screamed.

“Do. Not. Move.” Belle’s eyes danced with madness.

Melissa stopped resisting and panted against the pain.

Belle’s hand eased up on her knee.

Pierce danced with his opponent, circling. Scott did the same.

CJ scrambled for one of the discarded guns. “Don’t move!”

Pierce laughed. “Go ahead, that damn thing doesn’t work.”

“Ever heard of an RFID trigger lock, ass-wipe?”

A surge of strength flowed through Melissa. She didn’t understand what a trigger lock was, but she didn’t care. Belle’s mouth gaped, and she shifted her weight as if intending to run at CJ. Melissa took advantage of Belle’s distraction and bucked Belle off her stomach. Belle launched forward and hit her head on the edge of a sharp rock. A loud crack sounded, and Belle didn’t move.

CJ’s eyes hardened. He leveled his gun at Scott, who took a step back.

“It’s over,” CJ said.

The chaos of the battle quieted with a sudden and profound hush.

Pierce froze, his knife raised before him.

Scott’s chest heaved from his exertion, blood dripping from his blade. More seeped out of the gashes across his chest.

Melissa’s vision sharpened. Breath eased into her chest, no longer constricted by fear. Strength followed. The clamoring of her heart stilled, replaced by a steady beat.

This horrible nightmare was over.

Mac searched the ground and retrieved his gun. He aimed at Scott.

No one moved.

“Drop your weapons,” CJ ordered with a flick of his gun. “Kick them away.”

Pierce glanced at Scott, his visage dark and ominous.

“This is all your fault.” Scott glanced at his hand, his brows drawing close. He made a move as if to drop his knife, but then he lunged toward Melissa.

CJ fired his weapon. The shot blasted her eardrums.

Scott took a step, his face set in a frozen mask. His chin dipped down to stare at a widening stain on his chest. His eyes seemed frozen with surprise, and then he crumpled to the ground.

She should have felt something, some relief in his death, but she felt numb and distant. Less than three feet away, Scott’s soulless eyes stared unblinking and dead into the sky.

Pierce worked his jaw side-to-side, his fingers clenching the grip of his knife.

CJ turned his weapon on Pierce.

“Cuff him, Brett.” He tossed a pair of cuffs in the air.

The man Pierce had been fighting snagged the cuffs. “Drop that knife.”

Pierce glanced at Melissa, his eyes soft and round. His gaze cut to the unmoving form of Belle. His Adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow. “You were always meant for me, my Queen. We would have been great together. I would have served you well.” He sighed. “We will meet again.”

Brett lunged as Pierce sliced across his throat. A red fountain bubbled up and spurted down the front of his chest. He landed in a sprawl of limbs on the dirt.

CJ ran to Melissa, his breathing smooth and easy.

Her ears still rang from the gunshot.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I will be.” Her entire body shuddered. She gripped his hand.

CJ cupped her cheek. The warmth of his fingers soothed her and eased her breathing.

He wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her close.

“You saved me,” she said.

“I thought I’d lost you.” He tangled his fingers in her hair. “Are you hurt?”

She couldn’t answer because in the next breath his lips found hers. The horror of the past moments fled in the heat of his touch and the press of his mouth against hers. He pulled back, their lips lightly brushing, and then he yanked her against him.

Desperate.

Hungry.

Needful.

She needed more.

With a sigh, she parted her lips and welcomed the taste of him. He broke off the kiss and pressed his brow against hers, tangling his fingers in her hair.

He breathed out a sigh. “Never do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Leave.”

Bright lights flashed down the road. She squinted against the glare.

Mac’s shadow fell over them. “Sam’s arrived,” he said.

“He’s a bit late.” CJ huffed a laugh. “Do you think he’s going to be pissed?”

“If he doesn’t fire your ass, I’ll be surprised.” Mac’s smile twisted.

“Yeah, but you and I both know he won’t.” He jerked his chin toward the van. “The crazy chick is knocked out cold, but breathing.”

Three black SUVs skidded to a stop, tires crunching against the gravel. Their headlights blinded her until she looked away. Men spilled out of the vehicles, and deep voices shouted commands. Mac went to greet the newcomers, his deep timbre filling the night with a recap of the scene.

A stranger approached, swinging a flashlight. He shined the light at CJ. Early fifties with a face scarred by acne, his expression was dark and stormy. “Never fucking listen, do you,” he said.

“Late to the party again, Sam,” CJ teased.

“Ma’am.” He tipped the brim of his hat. “You must be Melissa.”

Melissa swallowed, unable to find her voice, but she managed the slightest nod.

“Found Charlie at the house. We’re calling a victims’ response unit.” He glanced around. “What a fucking shit storm the paperwork on this one is going to be.”

CJ rocked her, and she relaxed. Within the fortress of his arms, she felt safe, the nightmare at an end. Scott was dead. He could no longer hurt her. A weight lifted off her shoulders, and she curled into CJ’s embrace.