Chapter 28
“Jesus, fuck! I can’t see a thing,” Cole growled, inching the car down the street. The lake shimmered in the moonlight beyond a shit ton of vacant lots and the odd house.
“We’re on the right path,” Dallas said. The words didn’t give him much comfort. Moments ago, Dare had called, confirming the location Lorenzo had given them by tracking the IP address to the laptop Silas had with him.
Dallas blinked. The streetlights were few and far between, and most of the houses were set back from the road, making it tough to determine their colors and sizes.
“He didn’t say how far?” Cole asked.
“No. Just that it was on this road.” Dread sat heavily in his chest, pressing down on his diaphragm and making it damn-near impossible to breathe. He didn’t take his gaze off the landscape—unkempt grass, trees, and crumbled stone walls.
Part of him wanted to jump from the vehicle and go by foot. Adrenaline ran hot and vicious beneath his skin. He might have a heart attack before they found the property.
His eyes burned, and he dragged his hand over his face. Headlights shined in the side mirror outside his window. “Hey, pull over. Maybe this is someone heading to Silas’s now.”
Cole steered the car to the side of the road and an SUV rolled by. “Think that’s one of his?”
“Could be. Follow it.”
Cole didn’t balk at the demand. He pulled back onto the road, keeping his distance from the vehicle ahead.
“Hurry up, dude,” Dallas bit out.
“You want to tip them off they’re being followed or get to her before they can retaliate?” Cole’s question whipped out with disdain. “Sorry,” he grumbled.
Dallas massaged his temple. “No need.” Cole never apologized—at least not to anyone else. So the fact that he’d done it now revealed that he knew their situation was dire as fuck.
That there was a good chance Gemma wouldn’t be alive when they got there.
The car bumped along and the SUV, about a hundred yards ahead, turned into a driveway. Dallas sat forward and pressed his palm against the dash. “That has to be it.”
The proclamation was more of a prayer than a conclusion.
If it wasn’t it, they’d failed. He’d failed.
Cole picked up the pace. “I’ll get closer and then we’ll park and go by foot. Get ready.”
Dallas positioned his gun in his hand as they closed in on the property. Anticipation flared in his muscles.
Please, God. Don’t let me lose her.
***
Gemma sailed backwardthrough the air, and then her butt slammed hard into the chair. The plastic seat was situated on a large square patch of chipped concrete. The house was several yards away, and the garage several in the other direction. Silas stood near the garage, a cigarette in his fingers. He sucked on the end, and the red ember glowed. Before Gemma could barrel out of the chair, Adam’s strong hands anchored her shoulders in place.
Her chest constricted and she screamed, pushing all her power to her vocal cords.
“Goddammit, you scream again and I’ll cut your tongue out.”
Silas’s threat shook her to her core. She pressed her lips together, her chin trembling.
She struggled against the man’s thick hands, but he worked his fingers down her arms and claimed her wrists then bound them together with a zip tie.
She jerked and bucked, but her hands didn’t come free. Adam came around the chair, two more zip ties dangling from his teeth.
“Let me go, you bastard!” She lifted her feet and booted him in the chest. He staggered backward but clamped his hand around one of her ankles and fought her kicks to pin it next to the chair leg and secure it in place. She swept her gaze over her surroundings.
A large folded-up blanket sat on the ground next to a fire extinguisher. And next to that was a red jerry can.
Doom settled over Gemma, and the panic she’d held back broke lose. Tears coursed down her cheeks and her chest spasmed. She shook her head from side to side, squeezing her eyelids together.
This couldn’t be how she died.
Dear god, why?
Adam reached for her other leg. She kicked him in the gut, but her Jell-O-y legs made the action pathetic. He captured her calf and tied it too.
“Douse her. I want to go in and rest. I feel like shit.” Silas’s words barely permeated the fog of disbelief closing in around her, suctioning the air from her lungs and suffocating her.
The sound of a motor split the night. Headlights lit the driveway, and the slam of a car door came next. Nausea washed over her. Thick vomit clogged her esophagus, but the lead weight in her throat kept her from throwing up.
“Who’s that?” Silas asked Adam.
“Shane. He was stuck at the club dealing with police.”
A lanky man wearing jeans and a T-shirt approached. “Sorry I’m late. What a fuck—” His gaze fell to her, and he stopped in his tracks. “Uh... I’ll come back later.”
Adam chuckled as he stood. “Poor Shane. He’s got such a weak stomach.”
Silas pushed away from the garage and opened his arm to the newcomer. “Stay. It’ll be a good learning experience.”
“Please,” she cried to Shane. “I’m not who they think I am.” She tugged on the restraints, leaning forward in her chair.
Shane shifted his weight from one foot to the other as Silas pulled him closer with his arm around his shoulders.
“Shane needs a little initiation. Don’t you think, Adam?”
Shane swiveled his head and staggered a few inches away from Silas. “What? No. I was just about to go in and see the guys.”
“Nonsense.” Silas dug into his pocket and slapped a lighter in Shane’s hand. “You can do the honors of setting the bitch ablaze.” He signaled to Adam. “Let’s go.”
Adam grabbed the jerry can and unscrewed the nozzle, turning the plastic piece over so the spout faced the outside.
All the warmth drained from Gemma’s face. Blood juiced through her brain, blasting against her vessels and making her face throb.
Vomit rushed to the back of her throat again. She turned and emptied her stomach of the foul liquid, and it splattered on the concrete. One of the men let out a sound of disgust.
“Hurry up. Enough with the drama.” Silas’s cold command set Adam in motion.
He stepped forward, and Gemma turned her head as fuel splashed over the front of her dress with an icy zing. He poured the liquid over her shoulders, arms, and legs, and the stench of gasoline rushed into her nose and mouth, burning her throat and nostrils.
She choked and sputtered. Her body trembled violently. Her teeth chattered, shaking her cheeks and jaw. Her throat closed as sobs racked her.
Adam backed away, and sheer dread pulled at Gemma’s consciousness. Her brain flickered. Darkness clouded around her as the men backed up, creating a trail of gasoline from her body to them.
***
Dallas balanced hisweight on the balls of his feet as he skirted the overgrown grass surrounding the property. They’d parked the car down a narrow gravel road in case another of Silas’s men arrived.
The rustling of grass behind him assured him Cole was close. The driveway was a good hundred feet up ahead.
A woman’s scream split the air.
Gemma.
He launched forward. Cole’s hand snatched his shoulder, drawing him back before he could break into a run.
Dallas whirled around and shoved Cole’s hand away. “It’s her!”
His brother held up his palm as if placating a horse. “No shit. You need to calm the fuck down or you’re going to get her killed.”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “I can’t.”
Cole’s face turned hard. “You still need to use your fucking head.” He jabbed his own temple with his forefinger. “I’ll go through the grass. You find a way around the house. If you need me sooner, fire a shot.”
Dallas gave a sharp nod and Cole ducked into the overgrowth.
He brought the gun to hover near his chest as he broke into a jog around the perimeter of the property.
She’s still alive.
There was no way he’d be too late now. No way god would take her from him when he was so fucking close. He reached the driveway. Sweat torched the neckline of his shirt. The SUV they’d followed was in the driveway, parked closer to the single detached garage. The house was as Lorenzo had described—a shitty-looking green color and more than a little run-down. Lights were on inside.
The sensor light screwed into the side of the house bathed part of the driveway in a yellow glow.
Voices carried on the night air, and a jovial, condescending laugh struck a nerve of familiarity.
Silas.
Somehow the fucker had survived. Not for long.
Dallas moved down the drive, ducking low and keeping his body close to the foliage and away from the beam of the sensor light. He passed the first SUV then reached the second, Silas’s, and dropped to his knees. Sharp gravel dug through his pants, but he didn’t budge.
Three men stood back from a concrete slab. Silas was one of them, his profile unmistakable. He pulled one of the men under his arm.
Where the hell was Gemma? He had to get closer. He stayed low and moved to the front of the car. His shoes crunched softly against the gravel. He peered over the hood. Gemma’s long dark hair caught his eye. She wore a bright red dress, and her head rested to the side as if she’d been knocked out.
Her makeup was smudged, her face pale, and... why the hell was she wet? Strands of her hair stuck to her body, and a puddle surrounded her. A breeze wafted the stench of gasoline into his face.
His bones stiffened.
No.
Jesus Christ, she was covered in gas. Panic fired through his synapses. If he shot at the men, he could miss and hit the line of gasoline and set her ablaze.
If he got their attention, they’d surely spark the fire before he could get close.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He couldn’t even signal for Cole’s help.
The hairs on his body stirred. He had only one chance at this. Forcing a mouthful of saliva down his throat, he picked up a rock. One small distraction might not make Silas panic and react.
Might not.
He hurled the rock at the house. The stone smacked the siding, and the sound echoed in the night.
“The fuck was that?” One of the men stepped forward, shining a flashlight down the mouth of the driveway.
“Go check it out,” Silas commanded. “Make it fast. Shane needs to work up the guts anyway.” He roared with laughter.
The guard with the flashlight broke away from the group and moved toward the side of the house.
He had to act now.
Staying crouched, Dallas backtracked to the end of the vehicle and tucked his gun away. He had to do this with his bare hands.
He stood and crept over the gravel. The guard walked along the side of the house, the orb of light bouncing ahead of him. Dallas reached the grass, and the softer terrain cushioned his footsteps. He broke into a run and grabbed the guy from behind.
Locking his forearm around the man’s neck, he reared back. The guy fought, sharp gasps coming from his mouth. The flashlight fell to the ground. Lifting his free hand to the asshole’s forehead, he shifted his hold with his arm and gave one sharp snap.
The man’s neck twisted abruptly. A gurgle sounded from his throat and his body went limp in Dallas’s arms.
“All good?” Silas called from the back.
Dallas laid the man down on the lawn and scooped up the flashlight. “Yup!” he called.
Drawing his gun from the waistband of his pants, he made his way along the side of the house.
He stormed the grass, his feet pummeling the earth with determination. Lifting the flashlight, he held it in front of him.
“Here he comes, Shane,” Silas said to the guy standing near him. “You almost missed the show,” he called.
Dallas shined the flashlight at the men’s faces, blinding them temporarily. Silas squinted and turned his head away and Shane dipped his chin.
“Lower that, would ya?” Silas turned his back to Dallas and lifted a lighter.
Gemma let out a scream that pierced his eardrums.
“Light ’er up, Shane.”
Dallas closed in on the men and whacked Shane over the head with the flashlight. The lighter landed with a clink to the cement. The guy staggered forward and let out a grunt as he fell to his knees.
“What the—?” Silas wheeled around.
Shane scampered away in a crab crawl. The smell of gas hung in a thick cloud, singeing Dallas’s nostrils.
“Dallas!” Gemma’s shrill cry almost made him tear his gaze from his target.
He didn’t take the chance. Seeing Gemma up close and frantic would be his undoing. Lifting his gun, he pointed it at Silas.
Silas’s mouth worked into a grin. He lifted a second lit lighter. “Tsk, tsk. Don’t do anything stupid.” Silas opened his palm, revealing a metal Zippo lighter.
With the lid open, the flame would stay lit. All Silas had to do was throw it.
“Put it out,” Dallas said, his voice hollow.
Silas backed up a few paces toward Gemma.
Warning bells bellowed against his eardrums, but he was stuck. Damned if he attacked and damned if he didn’t.
Silas’s mouth stayed in a slimy smile.
“Not another step.” Dallas trained the gun on Silas’s head.
Silas lifted a shoulder. “You know what? Knowing that bitch will burn is worth it.” He threw the lighter on the ground.
Fire burst from the trail of gasoline. Gemma’s huge, terror-filled eyes found his.
“No!” The scream ripped from his chest as he dove through the air.
***
Flames shot upfrom the ground, and the path of fire spread in a straight line, heading right for her. Gemma coiled her body into a ball and struggled against the restraints, but it was no use.
A wall of heat charged at her.
She ducked her face close to her shoulder, screams tearing from her raw throat as violently as the angry mob of fire coming for her flesh.
Smack
Something hard collided into her, sending her chair back and into the ground. Her body slammed against the concrete, jolting her. Dallas was on top of her. “Hang on!” He seized the chair and rolled them away from the blaze, but it wasn’t enough.
The flames licked at her ankles, the sensation like hot teeth eating her skin. She kicked and flailed as Dallas’s arms closed around her and the chair.
A flurry of movement charged forward. “Look out!” she cried to Dallas.
Something covered her body, blocking out the heat. Her brain worked rapidly to figure out what had happened. Someone had thrown the fire-retardant blanket on her.
Dallas’s hands patted her down. She heard a fire extinguisher crackling over the flames, and the scent of smoke dissipated. She shook her head free from the material, her body still secured to the chair. Dallas’s face found hers, his features contorted with angst, his face red. His shirt was marred with black streaks. White foam coated the ground, blanket, and Dallas.
Disbelief sank into her consciousness. She was alive. Dallas was here.
How?
Her tongue couldn’t carry the weight of the question. Her feet throbbed, but she didn’t have the strength to look down at the burns.
“Gemma.” Dallas ran his hands over her face and hair. His lips pressed against her forehead and cheeks. The touch of his warm, comforting flesh was almost too much. She’d been milliseconds away from burning alive. She’d never shake the image of flames racing toward her. Never wash away the reeking odor of fuel.
She might as well have been branded.
Dallas choked on her name again. “Hang on, I’ll get you untied.”
“Here.” Cole, who stood a few feet away holding the flashlight, passed him something metallic.
Dallas opened the knife and sliced the restraint at her wrists then went to her ankles.
She tore off the ties and pushed herself into a seated position. Her body shook violently and her teeth chattered as if the temperature had dropped below zero. Dallas wrapped his arms around her. “Holy shit. You’re covered in gasoline.”
“Is there anyone else in the house?” Cole’s sharp demand was directed at someone on the ground.
“I-I don’t know. I just got here a few minutes before you did.”
Gemma let her head rest on Dallas’s chest and slid her gaze to the man. Shane—the one Silas had tried to convince to light the fire. Cole moved the gun to the small of his back, grabbed some zip ties from the bag on the ground, and secured Shane.
Silas.
She struggled against the cocoon of Dallas’s embrace and searched the yard. “Where is he? Oh god. He’s—”
“Shhh.” Dallas’s fingers stroked her hair. “Look.” He pointed to the ground near Cole’s feet. “Cole killed him when I reached you. Slit his throat. Don’t look, okay?”
Sirens screeched in the distance.
Cole marched forward and crouched. “I know she’s shaken. Probably needs to get the burns taken care of, but we need to get the hell out of here before the cops arrive.”
Gemma swallowed. “I’m okay.”
Cole flicked an annoyed glare her way—or at least he seemed annoyed. His scowl etched deep in his face was impossible to discern. “You’re in shock.” He turned back to Dallas. “I’ve got a hotel room where you can assess her injuries. Hospital will be the last resort.”
Dallas peeled off his T-shirt then fit it over her head, leaving him in only a white tank top.
“I’m okay—”
“No. You’re not.” Dallas tugged the material over her body. The smell of gasoline seeping from her pores prevented her from inhaling the scent of Dallas’s clothes, but the material was saturated with his body heat. Enough to lessen the adrenaline still buzzing through her veins.
He picked her up and she let her head fall to his shoulder.
“Don’t look down,” he said. His voice held a hint of warning, but she couldn’t shy away.
“I need to see. I need to know he’s dead.” She turned her head and glanced at Silas’s body. Blood oozed from a wide gash across his jugular. Other matter had emerged from the wound, and a gag hit her palate.
She covered her nose and mouth as Dallas cursed, but she kept her stare riveted on Silas’s vacant, empty one.
Thank God. He’s dead.