Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter 32
DECLAN
I PULL THE CURTAIN BACK, peering through the grimy motel window. The sky is still dark, but there’s a light gray along the horizon. Sun will rise soon.
Sean was supposed to be back by now.
I release the curtain and return to pacing. I’ve been up for hours, creating a path in the worn carpet like a caged animal, my mind racing with best- and worst-case scenarios.
Best-case: Sean and I pull this off. We drive to the house a few miles away, the one owned by Sienna’s ex, Anthony Russo, rescue Sienna, and get the fuck out of this city.
Worst-case: I get killed. Or Sean does. But considering how trained Sean is, I think he’s going to make it.
Actually, that’s not right. The worst-case scenario is that Sienna gets killed, something I’ll do everything in my power to prevent. What happens to me is irrelevant; she needs to be safe and away from that criminal.
A rhythmic knock echoes through the tiny room—two quick taps, a pause, then two more. I exhale from the sound of Sean’s signal. I’m at the door in an instant. A quick look through the peephole confirms that it’s him, so I unlatch the door.
His expression is grim as he slips inside, his eyes darting around the room before settling on me. But he doesn’t yet speak, only exhales and sits on the edge of a twin bed. He looks exhausted, hunching forward and staring at the floor like he needs a moment.
I doubt we really have any moments to rest, but I give him some time. I prop my hip against the motel dresser and cross my arms, waiting.
When a few minutes have passed, I finally speak up. “You okay?”
My words snap him back to this room, and he rubs his forehead. “Memories from my time in the Marines. I’m okay.” His eyes are haunted, but he stands and walks to the closet.
“Is there an opening for us to do this?” I ask.
He pulls two bulletproof vests from the closet, setting them on one of the twin beds. “I think so. Russo got on a plane out of town. The rest of us were in a caravan transporting something. They wouldn’t tell me what it is because I’m just the ‘hired muscle.’ Honestly, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know about any of this. We need to get Sienna and leave this because—” He shakes his head, grabbing the gun case from the closet and setting it on the dresser. “We’re in over our heads. Even regular cops would be in over their heads. This is FBI level shit, something you do with a large task force behind you. I want nothing to fucking do with this.”
“Then I’ll give you an out. You’ve already helped me get this far. If the house has less guards, I can sneak in—”
“I’m not leaving.” He shoots me a look of disbelief, as if appalled I would even suggest it. Then he jams a magazine into the gun. “I don’t know how many men are left at the house because they ushered me and Jeremy into our own car pretty quick. Regardless, you’ll get yourself killed alone.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
He hands me a bulletproof vest. “You’re welcome.”
I put it on, feeling completely out of my element, and yet strangely calm. The insane thing I’m about to do doesn’t even register; my entire focus is on getting to Sienna. Somehow, I’ll deal with everything as it comes, in the moment, hoping my boxing skills will do me some kind of good. No matter what, I’m getting to her. I’m getting her out.
“You said Jeremy was in a car with you?”
Sean is adjusting his vest. “He was driving.”
“How did you get back here?”
“I took care of him.”
I pause what I’m doing to stare at the bodyguard I thought I knew. He said that too casually, with ice in the words.
When he notices I’ve become still, he stops to glance at me. “He’s not dead. Unfortunately.”
“You sure?”
His light chuckle breaks the tension. “I knocked him out, but yeah, he’s alive. He’s on the side of the road with no cell phone. He’ll be fine.” Sean fastens his gun into a holster and smirks to himself. He flashes his bruised knuckles. “Felt good to punch him. I did it more than necessary.”
“Wish I could have.”
He grabs some extra bullet magazines, switching topics. “If they haven’t yet realized one car in the caravan is missing, they will soon. We have a window, but it’s a small one.”
“Understood.”
Both of us put on jackets to conceal our vests so we don’t stand out.
He pulls a second gun from the case and hands it to me. “You okay to use this?”
I nod because I have no choice; the men at the house will be armed. “I had a great teacher,” I say, referencing the crash course he gave me at the shooting range recently.
Sean’s eyes only become vacant and he glances at himself in the cracked dresser mirror. I wonder what he’s seeing.
I’m seeing glimpses of the Marine he must’ve been, and it’s an awe-inspiring, though intimidating, sight. It’s also a shock to my psyche because this is a side of him I’ve never seen—his movements are precise, skilled, fast. He’s no longer the bodyguard who sits around casually reading while hyper-aware of threats. His body is actively coiled, ready to attack or defend without hesitation or doubts.
I’d go into that house by myself to save Sienna, but thank God I have Sean.
“You’re getting ten million,” I tell him.
He pulls his gaze away from his reflection and stalks to the door. “I don’t care about the money. Don’t pay me a dime. It’s my fault—”
“It’s not your fault.”
He glares at me. “It’s my fault she got kidnapped, and I’m fixing it. Let’s go.”
For the first time in my life, I say, “Yes, boss,” and follow him out.
IT’S A FEW HOURS after sunrise as we sit in the SUV parked across from Anthony Russo’s house. It’s a rectangular white brick building, flat roof. There’s a flimsy wrought-iron gate in front, and the house is sandwiched between other similar structures, with only a few feet separating each property.
Sean’s been scanning the place with binoculars for the past hour, just observing. We didn’t have time to discuss a concrete plan—an oversight I normally wouldn’t go along with—but he’s been at the house for a week, getting what information he could. He also sent me information on the security devices that Russo uses. In a stroke of luck, he uses NexaProtect. The account isn’t under his name, but Sean sent me the serial numbers of his devices and, sure enough, the alarm system for this house is from my company. I disabled them in a way that hopefully wouldn’t alert Russo.
Now, it’s just a matter of getting past his guards. Sean assured me he has some ideas about how to do that. I trust him.
“Seems to be only that one guy outside,” he says. “As far as I can tell. Haven’t seen others. No movement inside through the windows. It’s not ideal to be doing this in daylight.”
I stare at the large man who’s been standing outside the front door. “How should we enter?”
“If that guy doesn’t move, I don’t know. Might have to enter someone else’s backyard and work our way to Russo’s back patio. There’s a second-story window that’s usually open. If all else fails, we might find a way—”
Without warning, the man out front checks his phone and then turns to walk around the side of the house.
“Or we follow that guy now and take him out,” Sean says quickly, dropping the binoculars. He checks the tranquilizer needles in his pocket, then nods at me. “Ready?”
I don’t speak; I get out of the SUV.
My heart rate spikes, adrenaline flooding my system. We walk across the street, trying to look casual, then we slip down the narrow path beside the house.
At a corner, Sean signals for me to wait. I hang back, watching in awe as he vaults over the shallow, wrought-iron fence around the back patio. He disappears. I hear some grunts and shoes scuffling across concrete. I glance around the corner in time to see Sean take down the much larger man with a move so fast I barely follow it. A quick jab with the syringe, and the guard goes limp.
Sean’s breath comes in heavy pants as he shoves hair from his face, remaining squatted next to the guard to observe him for a moment. Then he searches the man’s pockets. When he pulls out keys, he grins at me.
Sean waves me over, and I quietly follow him to the back door. Passing by the unconscious man, I’m struck by the surreal nature of this moment. I’m about to break into a criminal’s house, armed and wearing a bulletproof vest. It’s something out of a movie, not the life of a tech CEO.
But then I think of Sienna, trapped somewhere inside, and my resolve hardens. This is real. This is necessary. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get her out safely.
This is for the woman I love; I’d do anything for her.
Sean sticks a key in the lock but pauses.
“What is it?” I whisper.
He pulls the key out and turns the knob. “It’s unlocked.”
“A lazy guard?”
“I don’t know. Something feels off, but we don’t have much time so…” He makes eye contact and I wonder if his pulse is pounding as much as mine.
Probably not; he was trained for intense situations like this.
“I’m ready,” I whisper, checking the gun on my hip.
There’s no time for worry or hesitation. I know Russo isn’t a stupid man; he likely knows Sean is gone. He’ll know who came for Sienna.
Fuck him.
I’ll deal with him when the time comes; he’ll get payback for kidnapping Sienna and trying to ruin my company.
I’ll deal with him.
Right now, Sienna is my entire focus.
Sean turns the knob, and the door slowly opens into darkness.
I let it embrace me.
Soon, Sienna will be in my arms again, and I’m never letting go.