Wicked and Bound (Wicked Lovers: Soldiers For Hire #10)

Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

W ith a huff of frustration, Haisley smashed the button on the remote to turn off the TV and jumped up from the sofa. Chewing absently on a ragged fingernail, she paced.

Three hours—Nash had been gone that long. It felt like the longest three hours of her life. She was losing her mind, wondering what was happening at the auction, if the raid to take down the Velvet Cove was going down as planned. If Nash would come back to her safe and unharmed.

The alternative was too awful to contemplate, but no matter how much she told herself to stay calm, she couldn’t get that pit of dread out of her stomach. Couldn’t stop picturing all the terrifying things that could go wrong.

Absently, she thought about opening that drawer in which Nash had shoved the little bit of clothing she’d been given and the potential devices she might need to survive. She’d gotten used to being naked nearly all the time, and when Nash was in the room, she felt fine. Safe. Desired and adored. Now that he was across the compound and potentially in danger? She felt vulnerable and exposed. Like a sitting duck. The feeling wasn’t rational. A slip of a dress, a gun, and a phone wouldn’t do much if Gray and his minions marched in…but she still felt compelled to be as prepared as possible, just in case.

But the minute she withdrew those devices, security would know she was armed. Surely they’d perceive that as a threat and come running. Then what?

Haisley was still trying to decide if the precaution was worth the risk when an explosion rocked the island—and their suite.

She gasped. Froze. Nash hadn’t mentioned explosions. Had something gone wrong? She’d expected pandemonium while they took down the scum running this island, but…so early in the evening? Nash hadn’t shared plans of the raid with her, but she’d gotten the impression it would go down after the auction, somewhere near dawn—not in the middle of it.

Her windows rattled. Crystal glasses tumbled from the bar cart. Haisley stumbled as she raced to the window. She braced on the adjoining seat as another blast followed, closer this time. Her heart slammed against her ribs.

Something had gone wrong. She felt it in her bones.

Acrid smoke drifted up and past the windows. Beyond the glass, fires raged on the east side of the island, licking at the supply docks. People ran across the grounds, their shouts muffled by distance and thick hurricane-proof windows. Red emergency lights began flashing in the hallway, visible through the crack beneath the door.

Nash.

Her chest constricted with fear. The two years she’d spent without him had been hell, but at least she’d known he was alive somewhere out there. The thought of losing him completely, of existing in a world where he didn’t… She couldn’t bear it. She’d been fooling herself in Cali, pretending she was just fine without him. But she’d been lying. She had never stopped loving him. She knew now she never would.

Would she ever see him again?

The power flickered, then died, plunging the suite into darkness broken only by moonlight and those hellish red emergency strobes. Down the hall, doors slammed. Boots thundered against marble floors, growing closer.

They were coming. For her?

She pressed a protective hand to her still-flat belly. Hopefully, Nash was out there, fighting the good fight, and he’d come back to her and their baby. He wasn’t here to save them. He couldn’t be. She was going to have to do it herself.

In near pitch blackness, Haisley shimmied into her bra and panties, then raced to the dresser, yanking out one of the gauzy silk slips they’d provided and pulled it over her head. The fabric clung to her curves like water, but at least she wasn’t naked anymore. Beneath the negligees she found what she really needed.

She grabbed the burner phone, tucking it into her bra since the slip had no pockets. Then her fingers closed around cool metal—the Glock Nash had left her. The weight felt foreign in her hand. She pushed aside her discomfort. She could do this. She had to. After all, she’d been shooting a few times, mostly because Nash had taken her out and taught her, but that had been years ago.

She wracked her brain to remember how to handle the weapon. Fingers trembling, she racked a round, vaguely trying to remember if Glocks had a safety. It was too dark to see, and she didn’t have time to look. She’d have to carry the gun carefully.

A loud click in the relative silence told her someone had unlocked the door to the suite—and she doubted it was Nash.

That meant she was no longer alone.

Her heart leapt in her throat. Adrenaline pumped, making her body weak-kneed and hyper-aware as she scanned the suite in the dark, looking for somewhere to hide. But this place was designed for luxury and comfort during long-term stays, not tactical defenses.

With her options limited, she darted into the bathroom and eased the door mostly closed, hoping she wasn’t making a fatal mistake. Through the gap, she had a clear view of the entry, so she crouched, watching and waiting.

Seconds later, the main door swung open. Dr. Haynes strode in, flanked by two armed guards. Her white coat gleamed eerily in the red emergency lighting flooding in from the hall. The doctor scanned the room with cold efficiency.

Why were they here? Maybe they intended to round up all the women in the tower to use them as hostages and human shields against EM Security’s raid. But if that was the case, why would the doctor be leading the search? Surely, she was too important to the Velvet Cove’s cause to be fetching all the women.

Through the crack, Haisley watched Dr. Haynes’s face harden. “Spread out. Find her. She’s our number-one target. Black Velvet wants her locked up in medical immediately.”

Black Velvet. The mastermind behind this nightmare wanted her first and foremost. Why?

“Check the closet,” the doctor ordered as she moved toward the rumpled bed and checked behind the curtains. “The bitch can’t have gone far.”

Haisley’s fingers tightened on the gun. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she weighed her options. She could try to shoot her way out, but the guards were heavily armed with scary assault-rifle style guns. One stray bullet and… Shaking, she pressed her hand to her abdomen again. She couldn’t risk it. Not with Nash’s baby—and their future—at stake.

She needed help. The phone!

Haisley just hoped that backup didn’t come too late.

Carefully, she retrieved the burner device from her bra. The screen lit up like a beacon in the darkness. Smothering a curse, she quickly dimmed it, then typed out a text to the only number stored in its memory:

Guards + doctor in suite. Armed. Help!

A guard’s boots scraped closer to the bathroom. Haisley held her breath, easing even deeper in the shadows of the shower stall. The massive glass enclosure might offer some protection if bullets started flying, and she was tucked out of the direct line of sight from both the giant mirror over the sink and the entry.

The bathroom door creaked open. Haisley bit the inside of her cheek to hold in a whimper. She tasted fear and blood.

“Clear!” the guard called after a cursory glance into the dark room.

Haisley’s knees nearly buckled with relief. From her hidden position, she watched him backtrack to the suite’s open area.

“She’s not here,” the other guard reported. “I looked under the bed, in the closet… But the drawer is open. From our surveillance, that means she took her master’s gun. She’s armed.”

Dr. Haynes cursed. “Spread out. Search the whole floor. She can’t have gone far in just a few minutes with the elevators down. And she’s carrying precious cargo now. We can’t risk her life or let her harm herself. And she cannot—under any circumstances—get away.”

Precious cargo. The words sent chills down Haisley’s spine. These people saw her baby as a bargaining chip and a commodity to be sold to the highest bidder.

Over her dead body.

The suite door clicked shut. Haisley counted to twenty before creeping from the bathroom. The hallway beyond their door would be crawling with guards. She needed somewhere to hide until Nash could reach her. Somewhere defensible.

Her heart ached. Was he okay? Fighting his way to her? Or… No. She couldn’t think the worst. Nash was the strongest person she knew. He’d come back unscathed from many ops, and he’d survived two years without her. She couldn’t lose him now. Not to death. Not to anything.

Fate wouldn’t be that cruel, right?

She’d taken two steps when the connecting door to the neighboring suite burst open.

More guards poured through. Haisley dove behind the couch, heart in her throat. Three, no, four more armed men. Plus Dr. Haynes was still in the hallway. The odds were getting worse by the second.

“There!” One of them spotted her. “Don’t shoot! Black Velvet wants her unharmed.”

Haisley scrambled backward, keeping the couch between her and the guards. Her mind raced. Her choices were so damn limited. The bedroom connected to the next suite. If she could just reach the door…

A lone figure appeared in the doorway behind the guards. The blonde’s hair was tied back, and she wore black, head-to-toe tactical gear. But even in the shadows, Haisley recognized her face.

Karliah.

The female operative took out the nearest guard with a brutal throat strike, then swept the legs out from under another. “Haisley! Run!”

Dr. Haynes burst back through the main door, brandishing a syringe. “Grab her! Don’t let her escape!”

Haisley sprinted for the bedroom as Karliah engaged the remaining guards. The doctor’s heels clicked against the marble as she continued her pursuit. Haisley slammed the bedroom door and turned the lock. That wouldn’t buy her much time…but that handful of seconds might be the difference between life and death.

Across the room, the connecting door to the next suite was locked. Of course it was. She fired two shots at the handle, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. The lock shattered.

Behind her, someone began ramming the bedroom door. The frame cracked.

Haisley yanked the connecting door open and ran through the darkened suite beyond. Stay here and make a stand…or try to reach the stairwell to dash out of the tower? As much as she hated it, she was no match for the squadron of trained soldiers and their assault rifles while she was barefoot, pregnant, and outgunned. She had to find somewhere to hide. Somewhere to hope for the best. Thank god she had Karliah on her side.

Hold on, little one. She pressed a hand to her belly as the other gripped the Glock. Hold on.

She pictured Nash fighting his way to her, refusing to let anything stop him. She had to be just as strong. Had to survive. Had to protect their baby.

She could not lose either of them.

Or her world would end for good.

Nash bolted through the dark chaos as fast as his legs would take him. When he’d strolled into the Midnight Sanctuary a few hours ago, he’d mentally assessed the length from his seat to the door—about thirty feet. He’d covered half that distance before Mila called him out, hell unleashed, and the room descended into dark chaos.

“Run!” Kane yelled in the pitch-black room. “We’ve got your six.”

Grateful as fuck, Nash sprinted, hell-bent for leather, toward the exit.

Before he reached it, another explosion rocked the building with devastating force. He stumbled, slamming his head against a pillar. His ears rang as smoke poured in and his vision threatened to go black. Screams filled the room. Around him, the elegant ballroom devolved into anarchy—crystal chandeliers swaying ominously, guests stampeding toward the exits, guards shouting orders that were swallowed by the din.

The backup generators kicked in. Red emergency lights bathed everything in a hellish glow. Through the haze, Nash spotted Kane and Ethan flanking him, weapons in hand at their sides, but there was no time to coordinate. His entire being focused on one goal: getting to Haisley.

Before someone else did.

He lurched forward and took down the first guard with brutal efficiency, stripping the man’s weapon before launching himself at the door and out of the ballroom.

Soldiers stood in the smoky hallway, weapons drawn, as if they’d been waiting for him. As if they’d been stationed there to prevent him from escaping Mila Benedict’s evil clutches.

Freshly acquired M4 in hand, he feinted right and plastered himself against the shadowy wall, crouching to hide his abnormal height as he let the horde stampeding out of the ballroom swallow him up.

In the inky confusion, he pushed past the shouting guards, then lurched from the throng and chugged to the stairwell, shouldering his way inside, weapon drawn. The elevator would be locked down, so he charged up the stairs three at a time. Every second that ticked by with Haisley potentially in danger felt like acid disintegrating his heart.

“Nash!” Kane’s voice crackled through his earpiece, barely audible over the havoc. “Fed teams are breaching the perimeter but meeting heavy resistance. Black Velvet planned this. She’s set up reinforcements we didn’t expect. What’s your position? Ethan and I are coming?—”

“No. I’m headed up.” Nash rounded another corner. His tactical training warred with the primal fear clawing at his throat as he dropped another pair of guards silently—one with an elbow to the face, the other with a stealthy snap of his neck. Fuck if he was going to risk giving away his position or ricocheting bullets. “Get to the control room. Cut their surveillance. Communications. Everything.”

“You got it.”

The acrid smell of smoke followed him up the stairs, mixing with the metallic tang of blood oozing from his head wound and into his mouth. His legs burned, but he surged on, ignoring everything but his drive to save Haisley. Nightmare images of danger, of losing her and their baby, spurred him on.

Not again. Never again, goddamn it.

Sweating and frantic, he reached the top floor and crept from the stairwell. His heart nearly stopped. The doorframe was splintered, shards scattered across the floor like broken bones. Inside, signs of struggle were evident in the overturned furniture, the shattered lamp, the curtains yanked from their rod now hanging precariously.

His gaze zipped to the open drawer where he’d hidden the Glock. Empty. Pride warred with soul-deep terror. Good girl. She’d taken the weapon and fought back. Two spent nine-millimeter shell casings near the connecting door confirmed that she’d fought back. His tactical mind catalogued the scene—signs of a firefight, but no body. No major blood loss. She’d survived, thank god.

But where the hell was she now? And how had these bastards threatened her to force her to pull the trigger?

The sat phone in his pocket buzzed. He ripped the device from his pocket. Karliah. “Where is she?”

“The doctor has her. I took down three of the four guards, but three more were waiting in the hall. I eliminated one of them but?—”

“Location?”

“Main floor. Medical wing. I’m en route.”

He was already moving. “On my way.”

Please, please don’t let me be too late.

“Hurry!”

As quickly as he’d charged upstairs, he hurtled back down, his superior training allowing him to punch, pistol-whip, or headbutt every guard who got in his way with brutal efficiency.

On the main floor, panicked guests scattered in every direction. He blended in, slipping past the overwhelmed guards.

In the medical wing—a sprawling T-shaped space—shadows danced in the emergency lights, bouncing off thick concrete walls. The main treatment room intersected with a longer hallway connecting to labor and delivery. He’d memorized the layout his first day here, knowing it might become crucial. Now that knowledge might save Haisley’s life.

The sound of female voices behind a blue metal door brought him to a screeching halt.

“Damn the guards for leaving me as soon as we got here,” Dr. Haynes griped. “Give me the gun, bitch!”

“No.” Haisley’s voice shook but held firm. “Get that syringe away from me!”

Shuffling, followed by a scuffle. Feminine grunts. Chairs scraping against linoleum. Then a crash that sounded like someone shoving a medical cart that collided with a wall.

Veins filled with icy terror, Nash yanked on the door.

Locked.

The keypad wouldn’t be simple to breach. He didn’t dare risk shooting it for fear of hitting Haisley. Fuck, he needed to clear his head, to think. Normally, he’d be cool and tactical…but this was the woman he loved—and their baby. Fear choked him, clouding his thoughts.

“Get away from me!” Haisley insisted.

“You better give me the fucking gun or Black Velvet will kill you.”

“I won’t. I’m not giving up.”

More commotion followed. Nash’s fingers whitened on his weapon as he heard the high-pitched desperation in her voice.

Nothing was more lethal than someone with nothing left to lose.

“How can you help these monsters ruin innocent women’s lives?” Haisley demanded. “How do you live with yourself?”

“Don’t you dare judge me! I was taken three years ago and told I could either work for them or be sold to the highest bidder. What would you have chosen?” Dr. Haynes’s voice broke. “Now cooperate and let me administer this sedative. It won’t hurt you or the baby.”

“And once I pass out, then what?”

“That’s up to Black Velvet. But if I don’t do this, they’ll kill me.”

“What makes you think I won’t?” Haisley challenged.

“Nash.” A whisper behind him. Tiptoed steps in his direction.

He spun to find Karliah and pointed at the keypad. “Combination?”

She shrugged. “There’s a connecting door through labor and delivery.”

He remembered now. “On it. Watch my six.”

With a nod, she followed.

“Location?” Ethan’s voice cracked through his earpiece.

“Medical wing. The doctor has Haisley trapped inside.”

“Mila is heading that way. We’re in pursuit, but she’s surrounded by guards. She’s armed, and she’s pissed off.”

Not the news he wanted. “ETA?”

“We’ll be there in two.”

Goddamn it, he feared this battle would be over before then. And if he and Karliah couldn’t reach Haisley in time…

He refused to think the worst.

Ethan went on. “Feds are rounding up all the buyers and are getting the women from tonight’s auction to safety.”

Good. “And Gray?”

“Dead. I double-tapped that son of a bitch in the head and planted another one in his black heart just for fun. He felt Kaylee up before he ‘sold’ her to me, so I took care of him. Personally.”

Ethan was a good-timing, beer-drinking manwhore who loved pranks and had a snarky sense of humor. But Nash had always known his roommate was lethal—not a man smart people crossed if they wanted to live.

“Good. One less armed pervert to contend with.” Nash swiped blood and sweat from his face as he reached the next door. Unlocked, thank god.

In case the hinges squeaked, he eased it open. He couldn’t give away their approach, but he didn’t hear Haisley anymore. That unnerved him.

Dread twisting his gut, he crept into the labor and delivery room, crossed the dark room dominated by three empty beds with blank monitors and empty incubators beside them. Women gave birth here, probably before they had their newborns ripped from their arms forever.

His fury climbed another ten notches. Every one of these fucking monsters deserved to die. And for threatening his woman, he’d be more than happy to start with the doctor first.

“Back up or I’ll shoot you.”

Haisley. Nash nearly sagged in relief to hear her trembling voice again.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he caught a glimpse of her through the observation window, wearing a flimsy blue shift, torn in the scuffle, and a narrow-eyed glare of determination.

His training screamed at him to act, to protect, to eliminate the threat. But one wrong move, one misplaced shot through this maze of medical equipment and thick glass, and he could get Haisley killed. The doctor was using her as a shield too effectively.

His fingers whitened on his weapon as Dr. Haynes advanced with the syringe.

“You won’t shoot me.” Dr. Haynes’s eyes held a desperate gleam as she took another step closer to Haisley. “You don’t have it in you.”

Haisley’s hands trembled on the Glock. Nash saw the war in her eyes between survival and the weight of taking a life. He’d been there. That moment before your first kill changed you forever. He wanted to spare her that burden, but he couldn’t fucking reach her in time.

“Stay back!” Haisley shouted, her voice trembling even as her hands remained steady.

“One little stick, and this will all be over. Black Velvet just wants what’s hers.”

“Fuck you both. I’m not property.”

“You’re whatever we say you are!” The doctor lunged suddenly, syringe poised above Haisley’s neck.

Nash was already moving, but he was still twenty feet away, separated by a maze of medical equipment and the thick observation window. His heart skidded to a shuddering stop. Everything slowed to terrible clarity—the glint of the needle, Haisley’s wide eyes, the distance he couldn’t cross fast enough to save her.

“No!” The desperate roar tore from his throat.

A gunshot cracked through the air. Shock blanched across Dr. Haynes’s face, replacing her cold superiority as she clutched her chest. Then slowly she crumpled to the ground.

Haisley stood with the Glock still raised, seemingly frozen in shock. A bruise was forming on her cheekbone, but her eyes blazed with righteous fury.

Nash burst through the door and raced for Haisley. Karliah followed him into the medical office, skidding to her knees to check the doctor’s pulse. He held his breath until the female operative shook her head.

That was it. The bad doctor was dead.

He cupped Haisley’s face. “Are you okay?”

She looked at him, pupils dilating, terrified and lost. She was breathing too hard and trembling from head to toe. “S-she was going to drug me. Take me to Black Velvet. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let her.”

“I know. You did good. Real good. Listen, Black Velvet is?—”

“Here,” a female voice snarled from the portal.

The guards parted like a dark sea as Mila strode into the medical wing, her designer heels clicking against blood-stained linoleum. Her caramel hair was wild around her face, her evening gown splattered with blood. Gray’s? Nash hoped. But it was her eyes that stopped him cold—fever-bright with triumph and madness.

She moved with predatory grace, each step precise and measured, like a lioness cornering her prey. Guards flanked her in practiced formation, weapons raised, hemming them in from all sides.

Fuck. He should have gotten them out of here the moment Dr. Haynes went down. With every exit blocked, they were trapped in this concrete hell. His mind raced as he did a quick count. More than a dozen armed men, all with automatic weapons, plus whatever backup Mila had brought.

Against him, Karliah, and Haisley, who was still shaking from having to take her first life.

Their odds were catastrophically bad.

He scanned the room frantically for options—anything he could use as cover, a weapon, a distraction. But there was nothing. Just medical equipment and cold steel tables that wouldn’t stop bullets. They were cornered like rats in a sterile cage, and he had no way to protect Haisley or their baby.

Beside him, she gasped, horror transforming her face. “Mila? You’re…you’re Black Velvet? All those women… All those babies…”

“All that money. All that power,” Mila parroted with a snarl. “And you’re not bringing me down.”

Suddenly, gunfire erupted from all sides. Nash shoved Haisley behind a steel medical cabinet, prayed like hell, and opened fire, dropping the first guard with a head shot. The second took two in the chest before he fell.

Karliah dove behind an overturned gurney, taking out another guard with precise shots. “Nine o’clock!”

Nash spun, catching a guard trying to flank them. His shot caught the man in the throat. Blood sprayed across sterile white walls.

But for every guard they dropped, two more seemingly appeared. They were being herded away from the exits, pushed deeper into the corner. Nash counted ammunition—six rounds left. Not nearly enough.

A bullet whizzed past his ear, so close he felt the heat. Another struck the cabinet by Haisley’s head, making her flinch. His heart rattled in fear. They were running out of cover, out of options, out of time.

Through the chaos of gunfire and shattering glass, he caught a glimpse of Haisley’s copper hair as Karliah shoved her to her knees. Crouching, the female operative began guiding Haisley though the pandemonium, toward the exit—and safety. They were so close. A few more feet and…

“Stop them!” Mila’s command cut through the chaos like a blade.

Every guard in the room swiveled and trained their weapons on Haisley.

Mila crossed to them and hauled Haisley to her feet in a cruel grip. “Well, well. The noble warrior’s pregnant prize.”

Nash kept his weapon trained on her as he assessed their situation. The guards had them surrounded—six blocking the main entrance, four covering the connecting door, five flanking Mila. All armed with automatic weapons. His mind raced, calculating angles, searching for any opening that wouldn’t endanger Haisley or their child.

Rolling medical carts wouldn’t stop high-caliber rounds. The observation window was reinforced. The hallway was a killing zone. They were trapped in this sterile death chamber with a woman who’d spent years perfecting the art of breaking people.

The odds tightened like a noose around his throat.

His finger tightened on the trigger. If they were going down, he’d at least make damn sure Mila died first.

“One twitch of that trigger, and your child grows up an orphan. Assuming I let it live at all.” Mila glanced at Dr. Haynes’s body with sneering disdain. “Seriously? I needed the guards to get me safely across a compound crawling with feds. Five fucking minutes, and the bitch couldn’t handle one pregnant girl? Figures. She was weak, and she deserved to die.” Mila clutched her weapon with fever-bright eyes. “And you’re all fools if you think you can defeat me. Admirable little effort, but did you really think I was stupid enough to let you take down my empire? I built it from nothing while men like my dear, departed George played their petty power games and fucked their useless whores. So I framed him, and they both got what they deserved. I made sure of that. And I’ve transformed this island into something extraordinary.”

“It’s a pig with lipstick. Evil dressed up in luxury,” Haisley spat, not a trace of fear in her voice despite the guns aimed at her. “And you’re a pathetic slave of the rich and powerful, groveling to do their bidding for a few bucks.”

“Pathetic?” Mila’s laugh echoed off sterile walls as she pressed the gun against Haisley’s temple. “Haven’t you figured out yet that the world caters to the powerful, you naive little slut. You can either give them what they want and reap the rewards or watch them destroy you. I grew up the dirt-poor daughter of a drug addict and a prostitute, eating flour and catching bugs to survive. Your lofty morals are a hindrance. They’ll never put food in your belly or money in your bank account. I wanted more. I wanted better. So I figured out what the elites want. I’ve broken hundreds of women in this very room. Watched them scream and beg as I sold their bodies to the highest bidder, then took their babies for profit.” She gestured to the empty incubators lining the walls. “This is true power—having the ability to reshape someone’s entire life—and make a fortune doing it.”

Nash’s finger tightened on the trigger, but Mila grabbed Haisley by the hair and dragged her close, using her as a shield. His heart stopped as she gouged the barrel of her gun against Haisley’s temple.

Every muscle in his body froze. His head whirled. One wrong move and he’d lose everything—Haisley, their baby, their future.

“Maybe I’ll end your baby-daddy’s miserable life and let you carry this baby to term before I rip the child away forever.” Mila’s voice dripped poison. “I’ll send you videos of the auctions so you can see exactly the pervert who will make your kid’s life hell. I don’t usually mix business with pleasure, but watching you cry and beg will be my supreme delight.”

Nash’s mind raced. Logic screamed that offering himself was pointless, but desperation clawed at him. If there was even a fraction of a chance, even the slimmest hope that he could somehow save Haisley and their baby…

He’d lost one child through fear and silence. He wouldn’t lose another.

“ Take me instead,” Nash said into the horrible silence, forcing his voice to steady. “Let her go. Do whatever you want with me.”

Mila’s eyes lit with intrigue. For a fraction of a second, her grip on Haisley loosened.

“Nash, no!” Haisley lurched for him. When the guards yanked her back viciously, her yelp tore at his heart. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but her eyes held steel. She wasn’t giving up. “You can’t!”

“Ugh, you’re ridiculously noble.” Mila laughed. “But I’m not interested in your bargain. You see?—”

A flash-bang grenade crashed through the observation window, detonating in a burst of sound and light. The world exploded into chaos. Stars exploded in his eyes. His ears rang.

He shook his head to combat the effects and saw Haisley twisting from Mila’s grip—giving him just enough space to move in.

He dove for Haisley, tackling her to the ground and covered her with his body as gunfire exploded from all directions. “Stay down!”

The noise was deafening in the enclosed space, bullets punching through medical equipment and ricocheting off steel. An IV machine exploded beside them, raining plastic and metal. Rounds tore through the air above them. A bullet struck the floor inches from his face, spraying concrete dust into his eyes.

Somewhere to his left, Karliah was providing covering fire, her shots precise and controlled against the guards’ wild barrage.

Then, through the chaos, Ethan and Kane breached the room, weapons blazing. Their coordinated assault cut through the guards’ ranks with tactical precision. Brass casings pinged against tile as the guards returned fire, bullets chewing through medical equipment and sending plastic and glass flying. Sparks rained down as rounds shattered overhead lights.

But Mila was still standing, her face contorted with rage as she raised her weapon. “You can’t stop me!”

She swung the gun toward Haisley.

“Drop it!” a fed behind her snapped.

Mila spun and pointed her gun at the agents. Time stretched, the moment feeling like half an eternity. Her finger tightened on the trigger. The feds took aim. Everything narrowed to the space between heartbeats.

The agents fired first. Mila’s body jerked as rounds caught her center mass, her final shot going wide. The maniacal smile never left her face as she crumpled, her blood painting the sterile tiled floor.

The remaining guards, seeing their mistress fall, lowered their weapons and surrendered.

Finally, their nightmare was over.

Nash crushed Haisley to his chest, relief racing through his veins when he felt her heart thundering against his. His hands shook as they roamed her body, checking for injuries. “Are you okay? The baby?”

“We’re fine.” She clutched him just as tightly, her tears soaking his shirt. “You idiot. You were going to sacrifice yourself for us?—”

“Always.” He cupped her face, thumbing away her tears. “My life is worth nothing without you, baby.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Ding dong, the bitch is dead,” Ethan grunted, favoring his shoulder where he’d taken a bullet. Blood seeped between his fingers, but his grin was cocky as ever.

Kane did a final sweep while federal agents secured the scene. “Compound is secure. We found their servers. Records of every sale, every victim. The feds have assured me they intend to track down as many as possible and bring them home.”

More good news.

The first rays of dawn began to filter through the broken window. Nash kissed Haisley’s forehead, then each tearstained cheek before claiming her mouth. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, breathed her in, caressed her belly where their baby rested safely between them.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered. “Build the life we should have had all along.”

Haisley’s smile was watery but blindingly beautiful as she squeezed his hand. Nash had never loved her more. “Home sounds perfect.”