Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Vander coughed. The smoke made his eyes water and his ears were ringing.
The explosion had been a little bigger than he’d intended.
He rode through the adrenaline rush, trying to focus. It was like everything was moving slowly, a little out of focus.
He staggered to his feet. Through the smoke, he saw the door had blown out. He also spotted several bodies littering the floor in the corridor, some of them moving weakly.
In the lab, stuff had blown everywhere. He coughed again. A layer of dust coated everything, including himself. His clothes and hair were thoroughly dusted. Nearby, the roof had partially collapsed.
Fuck. Rhys.
He started searching the debris. “Rhys! Rhys.”
Fighting back a coughing fit, he shoved broken furniture and rubble aside.
Then he heard a groan.
Vander swiveled and zeroed in on the sound. He moved some rubble out of the way and saw an arm reaching up.
“I’ve got you. Hang on.” He shifted more of the debris and a cloud of dust wafted into his face. Ignoring it, he leaned over, wracked by another coughing fit. “Rhys.”
He heaved some broken furniture off his brother.
“I’m…okay.” Rhys sat up, blood and dust coating his hair and face. His black hair looked gray. He coughed.
Watching him, dizziness hit Vander, and he fought to stay upright. “We need to go. There’ll be more guards incoming.”
“No shit. I’m pretty sure everyone on the entire island heard your explosion.”
Vander gripped him and hauled him to his feet. He slid an arm around Rhys’ shoulders.
They staggered through the doorway.
The guards were all down. One tried to sit up, and Vander kicked him. Then he scooped a gun up off the floor.
Smoke billowed in every direction. Shit, which way?
Rhys looked down the hall—left, then right. “Left.”
Left it was.
They started hobbling down the hallway. They took a corner. Navarro’s basement was a damn maze. They needed to find a way out.
Suddenly, bullets slammed into the wall beside them.
Vander spun, knocking Rhys to the floor. He dropped to a knee and lifted his stolen gun.
All he could see was a haze of smoke.
He released a slow breath and felt his senses sharpen. He trusted his instincts and aimed at the shadows.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
A pained shout. There was no more gunfire.
“Up.” He heaved Rhys to his feet again.
“I’m fucking dizzy.”
“You probably have a concussion.”
“I’m fine,” Rhys insisted.
“Yes, that’s why you’re bleeding everywhere.” Vander trusted his brother to know his own fitness. In the field, they’d had to learn to gauge their injuries and push through.
He picked up the pace, but soon heard shouts and the sound of running footsteps.
“Dammit.” He stopped, pressing them back against the wall.
The guards came into view. Vander fired.
Two went down. He winged a third, and a fourth dove and rolled out of range.
Vander kept firing.
The gun clicked on empty. He stepped in front of Rhys.
One guard rose. His gaze locked on Vander. He had a bald head and a cobra tattoo on his arm.
Shit. It was the fucker from earlier in the cell—Rocco. His nose was swollen and he had tape over the bridge of it.
The guy grinned and raised a gun.
He fired at the exact same time Vander moved.
He felt a burn on his left arm, pain tearing through him. He rolled and came up on his feet. In a seamless move, he leaped and slid forward, feet first. He swept the guy’s legs out from under him.
Vander landed on top of the man, grappling with him. He’d trained in jujitsu and several other wrestling disciplines. He fought to pin the guy down.
Rocco grunted, fighting back and heaving his weight up. He was a big guy and it was a hard, brutal fight.
But Navarro’s guard was no match for Vander.
He got the thug in a chokehold and pulled back hard. The man’s feet hammered the floor, and Vander pulled back with all his might.
Come on, asshole. Pass out.
Finally, the guy sagged.
Vander released him and sat back, drawing air into his lungs. His muscles were burning, and his gaze was hazy again. He glanced at his arm. Thankfully, his bullet wound was just a graze. It was bleeding, but he’d live.
Nearby, the guard he’d clipped rose unsteadily. When he spotted Vander, he aimed a gun at Vander’s head.
Fuck.
Vander’s brain flicked through options at lightning speed. There were footsteps, and two more men arrived.
“Elio, finish them off,” one man barked.
Bam.
Vander didn’t jerk, but his pulse spiked.
The guard’s gun clattered to the floor, there was a brief pause, then he toppled over.
There was a hole between his eyes.
Vander looked back over his shoulder, and through the fading smoke, he saw a slender form in black stride toward them. They were holding both arms straight out, gun aimed. The shape coalesced into his wife.
“Get her!” one of the other two guards yelled.
Vander’s gut clenched, his muscles tensing. No.
Vander was alive.
She knew he was hurt, but he was alive, and she felt the full force of his attention on her.
But she focused on the two men charging at her.
She kicked one, whirled, then rammed her palm into the second guard’s face.
Both staggered back.
Suddenly, another big body charged into the fight.
Justin.
He hit the first guard and they both slammed into each other, and they struggled. They whirled in a tight circle.
She turned to face down the other man.
With a roar, the guard lowered his shoulder and charged her like a football player.
He picked her up, carried her several steps backward and slammed her into the wall. Hard. The air rushed out of her.
She brought her feet up and pressed them to his gut. There wasn’t much room to move, but she kicked him.
With a grunt, his hold loosened. That was all she needed. She shifted and snapped an elbow up into his nose. There was a sickening crunch of cartilage. With a groan, he let her go and lurched backward.
And found himself facing a lethal nightmare.
Vander grabbed the man. He tossed the guy to the floor, and he skidded several feet.
Vander advanced, looking like something out of a horror movie.
His face and shirt were bloody, and the rest of him was coated in light-gray dust. He bent over and slammed an unforgiving punch into the man’s face, then another and another.
The guard fell back on the floor, struggling to stay conscious. Vander kept punching. Relentless.
“Vander.” She grabbed his arm. “He’s down.”
She pulled him around to face her. His eyes were black and enraged.
She pressed a palm to his cheek. “I am damn happy to see you alive.”
He yanked her to him. “I knew you’d come. I was fucking terrified.”
“I was terrified for you.”
“You shouldn’t have come here.”
She rolled her eyes.
He made a rough sound, then his mouth slammed down on hers.
Brynn slid her hands into his dusty hair and kissed him back with everything she had. The taste of him filled her, his heat and scent wrapped around her. Her mind finally accepted that he was alive and okay.
When they broke the kiss, she kept her lips pressed to his. “You worry about me, but I worry about you too.”
He gripped the end of her ponytail and tugged. “No one worried about me before you. Everyone knows I can handle myself.”
She smiled. “I’m pretty sure your mother did.”
“She worried about me never getting married and giving her grandbabies.” His hand pressed to her stomach. “You shouldn’t have risked yourself.”
“I can handle myself. I need you to trust that.”
He lowered his head and pressed his forehead to hers.
“I didn’t rush in here unprepared,” she added. “You know I’m careful. And I had help.”
Vander looked over at Justin. The other man was helping Rhys to his feet.
“Thanks, man,” Vander said.
Justin dipped his chin. “I swear I didn’t know she was pregnant when we first busted in here.” He glanced at Brynn. “But she’s a badass. An unstoppable force.”
Brynn lifted her chin. “Thank you. Now, we need to get the hell out of here.” She looked around. “What the hell happened? Did Navarro’s men set off grenades?”
Rhys snorted. “That was Vander.”
She stilled. “What?”
Vander cleared his throat. “It’s not important now, we need—”
“We got trapped in a lab,” Rhys continued. “Navarro’s making drugs. Vander rigged some chemicals to explode.”
Ice slid into Brynn’s veins. She turned to stare at her husband. “You mixed deadly chemicals to cause an explosion…?”
“Brynn, it worked out fine.”
“You blew up the villa! On purpose!”
“Brynn—”
“A villa where you were trapped inside the basement.”
This time, he wisely closed his mouth.
She gripped the front of his shirt. “I love you, Vander Norcross. But you’re not to take stupid risks like that again. Understand? You’re going to be a father.” Her voice lowered. “I need you. We need you.”
He cursed, then she was in his arms, and he kissed the hell out of her.
When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, she pressed her face to his chest.
“It was a calculated risk, baby,” he said. “I’ll never leave you. I’ll always fight to find my way back to you.”
Everything inside her melted. She felt the full force of his love. It wasn’t soft or delicate, it was dark, strong, and intense. Just like him.
“We’re going to have company real soon,” Justin said. “I’m pretty sure Navarro is not going to be happy about you blowing up his villa.”
“He deserved it,” Vander said. “He’s the one who believed his stupid nephew.”
“So this was Tommy’s doing,” Brynn muttered. “I guessed as much when I realized they were related.”
“Old Tommy tattled to his uncle,” Rhys said. “But didn’t share all the details.”
“Yes, I heard Navarro complaining that he thought he’d nabbed a small-time PI.”
Vander’s dark gaze narrowed. “Oh, I’ll deal with Tommy when we get home.” His tone was as sharp as a blade. “For now, let’s get out of here.”