Chapter 31 #3
Keep talking. “I can help you if you’ll let me.”
“I don’t know who you are,” she drawled, “but I sure as hell am done trusting people.”
“Let’s step outside before this fire kills us both, and I’ll show you who I am,” he said in a level voice, even though smoke was gathering above him, and the stable was heating up at an alarming rate.
“I always knew my parents were murdered.” She started coughing. “And I’d suspected it was by our government, and like hell will I let any traitors take over the White House.”
“Bennett didn’t kill your parents.” Knox had trained in these types of conditions before.
He could handle himself, but Nina wouldn’t last much longer with the smoke breathing down her neck, which meant she might make a move soon.
“Glenn’s lying to you. I don’t know if it was the Russians or Glenn who murdered your parents, but my .
. . Kathleen Bennett’s not responsible.”
“Maybe Bennett staged my parents’ deaths. Maybe not. But she was involved somehow, and they’ll all pay. Bennett, Sterling, Renaldo—everyone. My parents weren’t traitors like he said. And I should’ve known Leslie would run to her lover for help when I went to her demanding answers.”
Lover? Glenn?
He had to make a move. With her talking, the best time would be now while she was distracted.
Roman must’ve sensed the same because he mouthed, “Now.” Roman threw the weight of his body off to his right side, and in one fast movement, Knox rushed the stall. He let go of his weapon as he moved, allowing the rifle sling to catch its weight.
Knox pushed Nina’s forearms up, and she fired off a round. The bullet pierced the ceiling, but he quickly wrestled the gun away before she could shoot again.
He tossed the shotgun behind him. “All clear,” he announced, so Asher and Adriana knew it was safe to approach.
He spun Nina around and pinned her arms to her back. “I could’ve killed you, you know. But we’re not the bad guys,” he told her.
Asher stepped into the stall, and Knox shoved Nina his way, then he swiveled around and twisted on his headlamp so he could better view Roman.
“Fuck, man. You okay?” He grabbed his blade and cut Roman’s hands free and helped him up.
“I’m fine,” Roman said on a cough, the smoke enveloping the stall.
“She could have shot you,” he said while slinging Roman’s arm over his shoulder for an assist when he noticed the limp in his leg.
“I trusted you,” he said as they moved.
“Knox? Are you okay?” Adriana wheezed, the smoke affecting her as well.
“We’re good, but get the hell out of here.” He didn’t need her destroying her lungs.
“Is he okay?” It was Harper’s voice in his ear, worry strangling her words.
“He’s fine,” Knox told her as they walked. “I think you gave Harper a heart attack.”
Even with his headlamp, he could barely see. The heavy pulls of smoke smothered them as they maneuvered toward the side exit.
“Roman,” Chris called out at the sight of them exiting the stable. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Roman rasped.
“Let me,” Chris offered, and he took over for Knox in helping him.
He sucked in a breath of air as he searched for Adriana. A swell of relief struck him at the sight of her darting toward him.
She was okay, and he was so damn grateful.
He threw his arms around her.
“I was worried about you.” She tightened her grip, and he never wanted to let go.
“I was never in danger. Only Roman,” he said, but . . . what the hell? He stepped back and studied her. “Where’s your vest?”
“Nina’s daughter was hiding in that third stable. I had to beg her to come out. I couldn’t take her with me, and with all the gunfire out there, well, I put my vest on her.”
He cupped her face, but she squinted with his headlamp in her eyes, and he turned it off. “You’re something else, aren’t you?” Just like your mom.
“Following your lead.”
“The Feds are on their way,” Luke said on approach, walking with Nina at his side.
“How many casualties?” Nina asked, but like she gave a damn about her people. The woman couldn’t even protect her own daughter.
“Three wounded,” Luke told her even though she didn’t deserve an answer. “They’ll survive. But the one guy your husband shot in the back is probably critical. That’s on you, not us.”
“Rubber bullets?” Nina asked.
“We may have a problem.” Harper’s voice popped in their ears. “The drone is picking up movement outside the compound on the east side. I’m zooming in. One second.”
“Maybe you aren’t the—” Nina’s right shoulder jerked back, and Luke lost his grip of her.
“It’s a sniper!” Harper exclaimed.
“What the hell!” Knox yelled as another shot snapped out. Then another one followed almost immediately. “Adriana!” He flew to his right and tackled her to the ground to protect her as Harper rattled off the coordinates to the sniper.
“I’ve got eyes on him,” Liam yelled over comms, surprise in his tone. “Target is down. I repeat, target is down.”
“Any more?” Knox asked, too worried to move off Adriana until he knew they were in the clear.
“Doing another sweep,” Harper said, “but I don’t see anything.”
“I think one of the bullets nicked my arm,” Adriana whispered beneath him, and he shifted off her in a hurry.
He stood and reached down to help her up, but she stayed down, unmoving. His heart took panicky climbs.
Her hand clutched her stomach. “I don’t feel so . . .” His entire world came to a halt as he flipped on his headlamp. “I, uh, think I’m hurt.”
He fell to the ground. His heart ripped from his chest. His life on the edge of over.
“I need a fucking ambulance!” he screamed at the top of his lungs and shifted her hand away from her abdomen. Blood seeped from the wound, and she moaned as he pressed both palms over the area.
“She got hit? Fuck, I’m so . . . sorry,” Luke said, but Knox barely heard him.
“Addy.” Tears blurred his eyesight. “Babe, you’re okay. You’ll be okay.” He maintained pressure on the wound to try and minimize blood loss.
“Adriana’s down,” Luke said over comms. “Repeat, Adriana’s down.”
“I’m sorry.” Adriana brought her palm to his face, sliding it over the paint on his skin. “Don’t be mad at me, okay?”
“I could never be mad at you,” he said, fighting back a sob.
He swallowed, anger and fear raking across his skin like claws drawing blood.
He pressed his mouth to the inside of her hand and kissed her palm.
“You’re going to be fine,” he promised, but on the inside, he was begging and shouting, fear taking over.
Please, God, don’t take her from me. Please.
He held on to her hand and lightly rocked in place as tears burned trails down his cheeks.
He tipped his chin toward the heavens, unable to stop rocking, and he begged. He begged for his life to be traded with hers.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“Ditto,” she said with a half smile. “Am I Demi Moore in this situation, or Patrick Swayze?” she murmured.
“You’re not dying. No coming back as a ghost because you’re gonna be fine. And damn it, babe, stop joking.”
“De . . . flec . . . ting. Your MO,” she said and winced. “Knox?”
“Yeah?” His body shook. His chest cavity rattled as if a bomb had been dropped nearby.
“I think I can see her.”
“What do you mean?” He nearly choked on his words.
She lifted her hand toward the sky. “I see Mom.”