Chapter 36
Greer
Looking over Koen as he sleeps, I wipe away a tear as a nurse assigned to him by his company, which is the entire reason he’s in the fucking bed in the first place, scribbles something into her notes in his chart.
The doctor has come and gone, and only spoken to Chase.
I feel like I’m in the way. It feels like I’m holding progress back, and it’s making me antsy.
I squeeze Koen’s hand, hating how innocent and helpless he looks.
Medical coma, the doctor told Chase.
Because men like Koen don’t sit still, they keep fighting, even with bleeding wounds in their stomachs.
“You need to eat,” Chase says, rolling up beside me in his chair. His hand is warm against my cold skin, and it makes me realize how chilled I am.
I haven’t felt for days. Not since I found Koen and felt everything all at once.
I can’t leave him.
“Would he let you just waste away, though?”
I think back to the rules I signed, and wish breaking them would mean Koen would rise from the bed and spank my ass raw. “No. He wouldn’t.”
“Well,” Chase backs up to give me room to stand, “let’s go get something to eat, and we’ll talk strategy.”
“Strategy for what?”
“Food first,” he grinds out, leading the way toward the kitchen.
There are prepared foods that I assume someone brought in, because to my knowledge, Chase hasn’t left since we got back with Koen. Neither of us has.
I took a leave from work, and they probably think I’m insane the way I disappear all the time, but I don’t care.
This life is becoming more of my reality than anything that came before.
Chase and I both pile our plates with fresh veggies and dip, cold sandwiches, and grab waters from the fridge.
Sitting across from one another at the table, there’s a comfortable silence as we both begin eating.
“I’m so sorry about Brian,” I tell him, and it’s the first time I’ve spoken the man’s name in four days.
He sighs. “I always thought I’d be the first to go, you know?”
I’m stunned to silence, chewing my food robotically, the taste of it turning acrid on my tongue.
“Not that I can’t fight or defend myself, even now,” he motions to his legs. “Just, I was always the more reckless of us three.”
“You?”
Thinking of Koen rushing into danger, ill-prepared and reckless, counters Chase’s words.
“Yeah. I guess that was before, though.”
I swallow, grabbing my water to wash some of the ashen taste from my mouth.
“What did you mean earlier?” I ask in a veiled attempt to change the subject.
“About strategizing?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Koen’s ill-equipped to go in the field, and I’m better with the computers, and Brian’s… gone.”
“So that leaves me.”
He nods, drinking some of his water. “That leaves you.”
“Koen won’t be happy when he finds out.”
“Is he ever happy?”
I smirk. “No. So, what’s the plan?”
“I think I got a beat on where Helms is holding the girl, but it’s going to be armed to the teeth. I’ve called in some favors, and I’ve got some guys willing to back you up, but it’s our op. I’ll be with you every step of the way, and—”
I cut him off, “Chase, you don’t have to talk me into saving this girl. Even if it puts me in danger.”
He bites the inside of his cheek, placing his sandwich back down on the plate. “You might not walk out of it unscathed. You might not walk out. My guys have expressed instructions to protect you at all costs, but I need you to realize the reality.”
“I know.”
“If you do make it out, Koen’s going to spank your ass bloody.”
I grin, the first genuine smile in days. “I know.”
He shakes his head, laughing. “That’s probably all I needed to say to motivate you, huh?”
“Probably.”
“Well, finish your food, and I’ll show you what I have.”
I nod. There’s a lump forming in my throat, however, making it hard to swallow my food because I know not only do I intend to do whatever I can to get Director Raymond’s daughter back, but I wholeheartedly intend to kill Director Helms.
If I wasn’t a murderer before, I will be soon.
Chase outlines what he thinks we should do and where he thinks the director’s daughter is being held.
It’s an old historic mansion, dating from the turn of the century. Its outer shell looks dilapidated, with panels practically falling off. The porch looks like something out of a horror film, daring you to set foot on it, so that it can swallow you whole.
“It’s the last place I tracked Helms before he went dark. It was on our list to investigate before…”
“Before Koen was led into a fucking ambush that left him in a coma?”
“Yeah.”
“How many men did you get me?”
“Ten.”
I nod. Ten men is something, but it’s ten men that I don’t know.
“You’re going to have to listen to direction, keep coms open, and don’t make one wrong move. If I say to abort, you fucking listen. Koen will kill me if I get you hurt.”
“It’s not Koen’s decision.”
“Fuck.” Chase sits back, tossing some headphones from the desktop to the floor. “I wish he were awake and could just handle this shit.”
“Don’t we all. That’s not the fate we were dealt.”
“Yeah, but you’re a librarian. I’m sending a librarian in to do an agent’s job…”
I swallow thickly. “Hey, I’m well schooled in combat, in all different genres.”
Chase’s laugh is genuine as it barks out of him. “Now is not the time for humor.”
I shrug. “Now is exactly the time for humor.”
Hours later, I’m dressed down in new tactical gear, this set not covered in Koen’s blood, and staring at a broken-down house across the street.
I’m sitting in the back of a SWAT van, ten men surrounding me I’ve never met before, and the energy is practically buzzing off their skin, making me giddy.
Chase’s comment about my being a librarian and unfit for combat is battering my brain as I stare at the house that very well might end my life because I’m not leaving without that little girl.
Koen wouldn’t, and I’m starting to understand him the more I dip my toe in his world.
“Ready?” Chase says in my ear, and I jump.
I’d forgotten about my com while I’d been sitting stoically, staring off into space, and spiralling.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Get out with SWAT, place yourself in the middle of them.”
Usually, I’d argue.
I’m in charge of this op, Chase told me as much, but I know he’s instructed them to protect me, and I’m going to refrain from being pig-headed and do what I’m told.
I do as I’m told, pulling my gun out and ensuring the safety is off.
I swarm the house with them, all the while my heart is racing so loud in my ears that I almost miss them announcing themselves.
The man in front kicks the door in, and I’m ushered inside.
I jump into action as if this is second nature, clearing rooms right along with the men, but where I fuck up is that I go down when they go up.
They probably haven’t realized they’ve lost me.
But now, it’s too late.
A hand comes over my mouth, and a gun presses to my temple as I’m pulled inside a closet and dragged through a panel that my captor then closes behind us.
“Quiet, or she dies,” the voice says.
Helms.
A shiver works through my body, and I try to keep my fear to myself as I breathe awkwardly into Helms’s hand.
“I’m surprised, Koen let his little toy out to play.” His lips graze my ear, and I fight back tears.
This was always a possibility, and I need to remain calm. That’s the only way I get out of this alive.
“Drop the gun,” he instructs, and I have no choice but to listen.
Helms kicks it away from me, and my throat thickens with worry.
I hear the men clear the closet and then reconvene in the living room.
“Well, she was with us before we went upstairs. She can’t just vanish! Check the entire house.”
“G, where you at?” I hear before the com is ripped from my ear and tossed to the ground.
Helms stomps on it. “You won’t be needing that any more, G.”
Fuck.
The chaos of the men searching for me only continues for a few more minutes before the house goes silent.
Helms waits another thirty minutes, which feels like an eternity, before he urges me forward with the gun now at my back.
“Move.”
If the men are outside the closet, they’ll shoot me to get to him, as they were instructed to do. I try to resign myself to my death before I step into the open space.
No one’s in the house when we exit the closet, to my utter terror.
Helms shoves me forward, leading me toward the basement with his gun at my spine.
“I didn’t think you’d come to me, but I guess both of you are stupid.”
Both of us, meaning Koen.
I keep my mouth shut.
Koen always said that less talking the better in a hostage situation, which is what this is now, since I’m alone.
I can’t believe the team would leave me here, so hope still dances in my chest that they’ll come bursting back in with the cavalry to save me.
Hope is dashed when Helms moves a panel in the wall, revealing a fire door that appears to be armed and soundproof.
“Inside. Now.” His eyes watch the door behind me warily, and I wish like hell I could get to my gun in my boot and hate myself for putting it there.
Cautiously, I step inside the dark room.
Lights flicker on at the movement, revealing a young girl on a bed.
She’s battered and dirty, and without thinking, I rush her, checking her over.
Her fearful eyes are trained on Helms behind me, her mouth is gagged with a dirty rag, and one of her wrists is tied to the metal headboard.
I open my mouth to ask if she’s alright, but I know she’s not.
She might never be okay again with the trauma she’s likely endured down here in Helms’s torture basement.
“Why are you doing all this?” I ask, turning to glare daggers at Helms as he tosses handcuffs at me.
“Put those on.”
I finger them and hold them up, and the light in the room dances off the metal.
Helms waves the gun around as if I could forget he’s got it trained on me. “Put the fucking cuffs on.”
I swallow, listening because I don’t see another option. If he shoots me, I’m sitting too close to the director’s daughter, she might get hit.
Fuck, what I wouldn’t do for Koen to be up out of that fucking bed and watching me.
He’d never let anyone manhandle me like this.
That’s his job.
“Good. Now sit back on the bed.”
I glance at the girl, and she gives me a nod, fear still glazing her eyes.
Sighing, I sit back.
Helms pockets his gun, flicking his eyes between us. “One of you makes one wrong move, you’ll regret it.”
For the girl’s sake, I stay still as Helms binds my left foot to the footboard before standing back up and training his gun on me once more, as if I’m not bound to a fucking bed and helpless.
He didn’t search me, which I find odd given his training, but I silently pray that he doesn’t later. All I have to do is get my gun and lie in wait for him to come back.
All I have to do is kill him.
I’ve killed before, I tell myself, giving myself false hope as Helms exits the room.
Well, kinda…