24. Chuck
24
CHUCK
“Is that it?” Callum mutters as we pull back behind the cover of some trees to avoid detection by the guards on the door.
I check the tracker monitor on my phone, and nod.
“That’s it,” I reply, narrowing my eyes. “She’s in there. We just need to find a way to get her out.”
Callum lets out a long, slow breath. Dax, beside me, has not moved his gaze from the cabin for an instant. It’s a miracle he hasn’t bolted down there to bust in the doors and get her out himself the first chance he got, but at least some part of him seems to recognize that he needs to restrain himself a little longer.
We have the recording, of James admitting to the physical abuse—and the rest of it too. Truthfully, anyone who hears the way he speaks to her won’t be able to defend him, even before he came clean about physically harming her. The hate in his voice, the utter lack of respect he treats her with, it’s sickening to me. I don’t know how anyone could treat another person like that, let alone another person who they claimed to love at some point.
But I don’t have to understand. I just have to get her out of there.
“How many guards?” I mutter to Callum.
“Three,” Dax shoots back. “Two on the front door, one on the side. He was taking a smoke break when we came down, but he just went back inside.”
“And James,” Callum reminds us. The blood rushes through my veins at the mention of his name.
“He’s not going to pose a problem,” I reply. “He’s a coward. Only good at talking a big game when he’s got someone where he wants them. He’ll freak as soon as he sees us, trust me.”
Callum nods, but I can see a hint of doubt in his face. He wants to believe me, of course, but it’s not that easy for him. I know as well as he does that we don’t know exactly what we’re up against, and we could be hit with something beyond what we’re ready for when we step out of these woods.
“You ready?” Dax asks. He’s been barely holding himself back since we got to the cabin.
“I’ll take the one on the side,” I reply. “Callum, Dax, take out the two at the door. No fatalities. Keep them alive, just take them out. You understand?”
I can tell that both of them want to argue with me on that, but they seem to know better—this is what we promised her, after all, and they know I want to kill these bastards as much as they do. But we have to play it safe. Anything the authorities might be able to use against us is going to cause trouble, because of who James’s father is. It needs to be airtight, or else we’re all going down.
And then we wouldn’t be able to keep Charli out of his clutches any longer.
“Now!” I hiss, and just like that, we take off from behind our cover and move toward the cabin.
I hear a cry of shock from one of the guards on the door, but I don’t stop to investigate further—I have to keep my focus on fulfilling my part of this mission. I close in on the side door and lift a foot, smashing my boot into it a couple times till it flies open. I lift my knife and move inside, eyes sliding back and forth as I try to figure out where this third guard is.
Suddenly, I hear a squeak on the floorboard beside me—this is an old logging cabin, not unlike the one we all live in, and they tend to give away movement pretty easily. My gaze flicks to the right, and sure enough, there’s the guard, trying to hide behind the doorframe. I can see the flash of a weapon in his hand, and I move in quick, grabbing his wrist and twisting it roughly upward to send it falling to the ground.
He lets out a grunt of pain and tries to twist away from me. I wrap my arm around his neck, yanking him against me, and lift my knife to his throat.
“Where is she?” I demand.
He squirms, trying to pull out of my grip, but I press the knife into his skin. Just because I said I wasn’t going to kill anyone doesn’t mean I’m not willing to hurt them to get what I want. I can smell his blood in the air as he pants for breath, the scent of it mixing with the metallic flash of the blade. I keep the pressure steady, not doing more than I need to, but just enough to make certain that he knows I’m not going to let him get away without answering my question.
“Hey! Help!” he yells out, but I just tighten my grip on him.
“I don’t know who you’re calling out to,” I warn him. “I have my men surrounding this place. They’ve already taken down the guards on the door. Now, show me where she is, and I might just let you live. You hear me?”
He pauses for a moment. I can tell that he’s considering continuing to fight, but he thinks better of it. Finally, he jerks his head toward a door at the end of the corridor.
“That way,” he mutters. “She’s down there. That’s where he has her.”
“Thanks for your help,” I tell him, voice edged with sarcasm. Before he can say another word, I grab the back of his hair and slam his head into the wall beside us. He slides down, letting out a groan of pain, his eyes bleary and distant as he tries to regain his composure. That should keep him out for the time being—we won’t need long, not if my brothers have done their job…
As I head down the corridor, I spot them, Dax and Callum. I lift my chin, silently asking if they’ve done what needs to be done, and Dax nods.
“They’re dealt with. Alive, but dealt with.”
“Good,” I reply, and point to the door. “That’s where they’re keeping her. We need to?—”
But before I can finish my thought, the door flies open. On the other side stands the man I hate more than anything or anyone in the world.
James.
I recognize him at once. I’ve seen pictures over the course of our research, but there’s something about his presence in person that’s all the more unsettling. He’s got this wild look to his eyes, as though he’s barely holding himself together.
“Charli!” Dax yells out, trying to push past him—but James blocks his path.
“Who the fuck are you?” he demands.
Dax pushes his face close to James, his eyes flashing with anger. “Get the fuck away from her,” he mutters. But before he can say another word, James reaches into the waistband of his pants and pulls out a gun. He presses it into Dax’s gut, and Dax stiffens, the blood draining from his face.
“You need to leave. Now,” James warns him, and his eyes flick around to Callum and me. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing, playing hero like this, but?—”
“Your guards are down,” Callum replies. “We have this place surrounded. You pull that trigger, and you’ll be dead before he hits the ground. We’re getting her out of here either way. And it’s up to you whether you want to walk out of here alive.”
His voice is cool, calm, considered—he’s not going to let this fucker get to him. I can’t help but feel a swell of pride toward my brother—both of them, actually. Neither of them even had to think twice about doing the right thing here, stepping in and helping Charli when she needed us most, and I know they’ll do anything in their power to make sure she gets out of this safe.
Dax stares James down, not moving his gaze from his for a second. James glances between all of us, weighing up his options as he tries to figure out what to do.
“Fuck,” he mutters, and he drops the gun to his side. Lunging past me, he sprints for the door, dropping down for a moment to grab keys from the pocket of his man who’s sprawled on the ground below him. He doesn’t even stop to see if he’s okay; he clearly doesn’t give a damn. All he cares about is saving his own ass, and he’s not going to let anything get in the way of him doing just that. He sprints for the exit and out into the sunlight beyond.
And then a voice cuts through the quiet.
“G-guys?”
Our attention is drawn at once to the inside of the room—and thank fuck, there she is. Charli. Tied to a chair, her arms locked behind her, her face red where he must have struck her, her eyes wet with tears—but alive.
“Oh, thank God,” Callum breathes, and he rushes into the room, pulling her into his arms and squeezing her tight. I drop down behind her to undo the bindings that are wrapped around her wrists, releasing her at last, and she flexes her hands this way and that to test her newfound freedom.
“Oh my God,” she mutters, as her eyes start to leak once more. “I—I don’t know what to…I can’t?—”
“It’s okay,” Callum promises her. “We have everything we need. “Everything it’s going to take to bring him down.”
“We do? You got everything?” she asks, and he nods again.
“We got everything. He’s done for. You don’t have anything to worry about, I swear.”
“Oh, fuck,” she gasps, and she sinks her head into his shoulder, her trembling hands reaching up to grasp hold of him, as though she can barely believe what she’s hearing. I reach for her hand, covering it with my own, and Dax moves in to squeeze her shoulder, a silent promise that he’s there and he’s not going to let anything else happen to her.
And as we hold her, a rush of relief courses through me. It might not quite be over yet—but we’re closer than we’ve ever been to setting her free of his influence for good.
The thought of the freedom that lies on the other side is almost more than I can take.