Chapter Sixteen
Church paced in front of Miss Collins’s trailer, waiting for the woman to finish her fourth wardrobe change in an hour.
The first time, she claimed her jewelry was making her itch because it must have nickel in it. Then her boots were giving her a blister even though she’d only had them on for a short time and walked all of ten steps.
The list went on and now Church didn’t know why the hell the woman was in wardrobe anymore. All he knew was that Zee wasn’t back.
He stood in the shadow of the trailer, gazing through the bright lights of the set into the blackness, waiting for headlights to come up the road.
She must really be falling apart if she was taking so long.
God, he wanted to be there to offer her comfort and to hold her while she cried.
What if she got a flat tire? Dammit, he should have checked the tires before she left.
He texted her twice and when she didn’t respond, he pictured her sitting in the dark field, cradling Matt’s ashes, unable to go through with her plan. Or crying her eyes out because she had and regretted it.
He pulled out his phone and checked in with her again. Just then, the trailer door opened and the assistant popped her head out. “She’s ready.”
Though he wasn’t in the mood for guarding the actor as she took the dozen steps to the next set, he’d agreed to do the job and he would.
As he led Miss Collins across the grounds, he swung his head left and right, keeping an eye out for danger.
They hadn’t filmed at night before, and it was possible people could sneak onto the site more easily.
That was the only thing keeping him from grabbing the keys to the grip’s truck and going after Zee.
His fingers twitched toward his phone in his pocket. He could call one of the guys on the Black Heart. Theo or Gabe or Crew would go check on her if he asked.
Where is she? he asked Matt and got only silence, as always.
But in the back of his mind came a whisper of unease. Zee bounced around from place to place. Maybe she wasn’t just running from danger. Maybe she really just couldn’t settle.
No. She was excited to get to work in the facility. She didn’t seem to mind coming to the set with him or masquerading as his wife.
Besides, she loved it here—the views, the countryside, the people around her. She loved it enough to put down roots and scatter Matt’s ashes here.
It was possible she couldn’t go through with it—not because she didn’t want to, but because of guilt. Maybe she wasn’t ready to move on, and he’d been pushing without realizing it.
She was used to carrying everything alone, locking it down where no one could touch it. Would she decide walking away was easier than letting him in?
He dragged a hand down his face, paced once, pivoted and paced the other way, boots grinding on gravel. “Where are you, honey?”
He was going crazy thinking of her out there alone. If she had taken off thinking she didn’t belong here anymore—
His mind went darker than he liked and faster than he could stop it. He forced the thoughts back and locked them down.
He swung toward the tree line, scouring the area for movement and saw none. The wind teased the branches and he heard the whisper of leaves falling.
He turned to look at the road for the twentieth time in as many minutes.
Then headlights broke the darkness.
His muscles locked, every sense snapping to attention as the lights of a truck rolled down the dirt road.
Not his truck, he could tell by the look of the headlights. His pulse kicked up and he took a step into the shadows to watch first. The set security would handle a visitor. His job was to guard Miss Collins.
The truck came closer. And kept coming.
He rushed forward as he realized it wasn’t planning to stop in the parking lot. Then the production lights illuminated the windshield and the people inside.
Everything inside him went cold.
Zee sat in the passenger seat, her eyes wide and fear carved into her features. Across her mouth was a black strip.
Tape.
He jerked his gaze to the driver and the ice in his veins turned hot and lethal.
His vision narrowed to her and the man beside her.
Lucian Pike.
A man Church had led into battle, who he trusted with his life. They’d eaten together, trained together. Bled in the same dirt.
They’d been brothers…once.
His fingers flexed into fists at his sides and he was already calculating distance, speed, angle, timing.
Driver’s side. Lucian would be armed like a SEAL—but so was he.
He could break the window and open the door, drag her out before Lucian had time to react.
For half a heartbeat, the world seemed to stop. Sound silenced. Nothing moved.
Church’s jaw locked until his teeth ached.
The truck kept coming, and two of the security team started forward, thinking their size and strength would be enough to stop him, but Church knew better.
He sliced a look at Zee’s face again. Her eyes were even wider, and her terror hit him like a punch.
He’d sworn never to let anyone touch her, and he’d failed.
But at least she was here, he told himself. Here where he could protect her, not gone forever—kidnapped, or worse.
His gut bottomed out as he met her stare through the glass.
Help me.
He may never hear his late friend’s voice, but Zee’s came through loud and clear.
He let that connection steady him as he tracked every detail. Lucian’s posture, the control in the set of his shoulders.
The truck suddenly braked, but Church didn’t need more time. He shot forward with one objective.
Get Zee out.
He placed himself in the shadows, knowing the lights would blind the driver. As he rushed in, he saw Lucian’s head turn. Church took off in a crouch, weapon pulled. As he passed the security guards, he gave them orders in a low voice.
“Watch the set. I got this.”
The truck door opened and Lucian jumped out. Church’s muscles jerked, already prepared to take down the son of a bitch.
A weapon was strapped to Lucian’s hip, and if Church knew anything about his former operative, he had one strapped to his ankle too. If Church rushed him now, he could easily pull that weapon and take out Zee. He had to get him away from the vehicle.
Lucian jerked open the door and reached inside. When he dragged Zee out by her bound wrists, pain splintered across her face. But she didn’t make a sound.
That’s my girl.
The sliver of pride faded in a blink, replaced by cold fury.
Nobody touched what was his.
He counted down the seconds until Lucian got close enough for him to act. The plan forming in his mind was loose but he liked it that way, with room to move. To pivot and change course if shit broke bad.
But it wasn’t going to.
Church was in charge.
* * * * *
Zee had never been more aware of time in her life—not in the long, aching hours after she learned about Matt’s death, not in the numb stretch of days and weeks that followed.
Not even in the terrible moments Lucian had forced her into his truck and driven her away with tape over her mouth and her hands bound.
Time had become a new concept. Instead of seconds ticking by or hands moving on a clock, time was measured in breaths and glances.
She had to let Lucian Pike believe she really would just grab her bag and hand over the card.
She had to let him believe she didn’t have an ulterior motive in leading him there.
She kept her face turned away, using the angle and her hair to hide the way she was constantly scanning the road for Church. She knew she’d been gone long enough to make him worry, and if he was worried…there was no way he wouldn’t come looking for her.
She was guiding Lucian here on purpose. If she was going to survive this, she had to get him close enough to the security presence…
And Church.
Grant.
Even thinking his name tightened her chest.
She didn’t know exactly where he’d be on set, but she knew he’d be watching for her. She just had to keep it together long enough to get Lucian into Church’s range without getting killed first.
This wasn’t Lucian breaking into her vehicle, searching for the card. She knew exactly what he’d done and what he was capable of.
He had killed her husband and he would shoot her dead without hesitation in his cold eyes.
The truth felt like broken glass in her veins, every shard slicing deeper by the second. All this time, she’d lived with the image of Matt going down as a hero fighting for the country he loved. She had told herself that war was cruel and senseless, but now she knew war hadn’t taken Matt.
This man’s betrayal had.
The knowledge sat in the pit of her stomach, a hot coal that scorched. She curled around it and held it tight, because that truth would keep her angry enough to continue fighting.
Her wrists burned from the zip ties. Her shoulders ached and her mouth tasted like adhesive and panic. But her mind was clear.
When the truck slowed, adrenaline made her heart kick hard enough to hurt.
“What’s the fastest way to your bag?”
With a mumbling noise behind the tape, she lifted her chin toward the set that was a blur of bright lights in the darkened landscape. After sitting for long hours on set, she knew Church spent most of his time around the structures on the left.
While she couldn’t risk giving Lucian an opening to sneak up on Church, she had to steer him where people would be—where the actors gathered, where security would be patrolling.
Where Church would be.
And earlier that day, she’d watched the crew set up the pyrotechnics for an explosion scene. The grip, Luke, had walked her through the setup, explaining how it would all go off in sequence.
Lucian kept driving, barely slowing as he angled the truck toward the set where she’d directed him.
“Where?”
“Mmm mmm!”
“The tall black shapes?”
“Mmm!”
If the bright lights blinded her, they blinded him too. She just prayed Church wasn’t operating blind.
Her pulse spiked as the truck rolled closer.
Too close. Too fast.
They weren’t slowing for the parking area.