Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Atlas broke the surface. The taste of salty water sat in his mouth. He stayed low, exposing only his eyes, nose, and mouth to the air. He treaded carefully, staying beneath the dock.
Viper bumped his shoulder as he came up for air. He too stayed low. Rogue and Havoc were next. All four of them bobbed beneath the wooden planks.
A boat wobbled near them. It was tied to the side of the dock.
“Move in.” Rogue’s barely audible command urged Atlas forward.
He skimmed through the water until his toes touched the ground. He stood under the dock with the others.
“Havoc, you and I will circle the perimeter and eliminate hostiles. Viper, you and Striker get to the nearest door and find Molly.”
“Copy,” Atlas said.
Viper passed out their earpieces and Atlas stuffed one into his ear canal. Urgency flooded his veins. He wanted inside. Now. Viper must have sensed his mood because he waded ahead.
Atlas followed, ducking under the planks. They reached the shore. His boots dug into tiny grains of sand as he stalked up the bank. A set of stairs came into view, but he motioned for Viper to followed him into the forest.
They veered right and Rogue and Havoc went left. Climbing the stairs would be faster, but they’d more likely be spotted.
He leapt over a small stream, and his sodden boots squelched in the soft earth. He climbed up the steep hill, pushing branches and leaves away from his face.
Hungry insects feasted on his cheeks and neck, but he was too focused to even slap them away. Finally, they’d gone as far as they could. The house sat before them.
He dropped to one knee behind a large rock and studied the backyard landscape.
A balcony jutted out from the second floor.
If he weren’t mistaken, that was the room in which he’d spotted someone sleeping from the drone.
Beneath there was grass that sloped away from the house.
On the lower level was a large window. Patio stones stretched up the east side of the yard like stairs carved out of the ground.
No lights shone in the windows.
Voices sounded and grew louder.
“What’s your position?” he said into the mic.
“West side of the house,” Havoc said. “No hostiles.”
“We’ve got two approaching.”
“Hold fire until we’re in position,” Rogue ordered.
“Here they come.” Viper nodded toward the patio stone stairs. Two guards came down talking. Their words were unintelligible. One smoked a cigarette.
The men stopped near the window and faced each other. “Vinny’ll be here soon. We’re supposed to head to the dock in fifteen to welcome him.”
“Fuck that guy’s a prick.”
“Not our problem. He’ll take the bitch and be gone.”
Atlas’s hackles rose. Hot breath expelled from his nostrils.
“She got you good, huh, Chris? Are your balls as blue as that bruise?”
“Fuck you. I beat the shit outta her and dragged her back to the room. Ain’t so pretty now.”
Atlas pushed to a standing position, but Viper’s fierce hand brought him back to the grass. “Save it.”
He huffed. “That bastard’s mine. You can take the other with a clean shot if you want.”
“Fine, just wait for Rogue’s go.”
The guards continued walking, pivoting to stroll beneath the balcony.
Atlas dipped his head. “Rogue, I need clearance. Now.”
“Go.” His friend’s short response told him it might not be the best time to move in. He didn’t give a damn.
He moved around the rock. Balancing his weight on the balls of his feet, he fought to keep every step as soundless as possible. The two goons chatted, muffling any sounds his approach made.
He crept up behind Chris and swooped an arm around his neck. Chris kicked and flung, but Atlas held fast. His friend wheeled around and fumbled to yank his weapon from its holster.
Havoc was on him. In two seconds, his silencer was pressed to the man’s forehead. Then the guy’s brains sprayed on the wall.
Atlas pulled sharply on Chris’s neck, letting him wither and gasp for air. The stench of smoke was heavy on his skin. “Tell me again what you did to my girl? I didn’t quite hear you the first time.”
Chris let out a guttural sound. “Sh-She’s fine.” The proclamation came out on a whisper.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
He clenched his forearm tighter. Tendons popped and crackled beneath his skin, bringing a whole new meaning to the word satisfaction.
“Upstairs,” he croaked. He pointed above his head.
Atlas’s gaze shifted to the balcony they stood below. Hope blossomed in his chest. Just knowing Molly was so close gave him a tingling sense of peace—and wrath.
He’d come for Molly.
But he wouldn’t leave without the kill.
He snapped Chris’s neck to one side while jerking his arm in the opposite direction. A satisfying crunch let him exhale.
It was all he could do not to call out to Molly.
Molly frowned. She’d heard a sound outside. A splatter of some kind. Like a wet rag slapping against the stone house.
She lay in the same spot. Restless yet immobile. Exhausted yet wired. Scared and not the least bit hopeful.
A voice carried on the breeze and drifted through the sheer curtains. Probably just Willy’s men circling the property.
She couldn’t stop shivering. Sleep wouldn’t come, but morning would.
And Willy’s promises along with it. Soon, she’d be gone from the island and—
Thump
Was she hearing things? Losing her mind? It sounded as if someone had fallen, but she’d been unconscious twice in the last few hours and her head beat like a drum.
There was no rescue happening. Just her own fate knocking on the door.
She curled tighter into a ball. Her feet throbbed. They were probably raw from running across rocks.
Shifting on the bed like a tied pig, she grunted beneath the tape sealing her lips and flopped onto her side to face the window.
A slash of moonlight touched the bed. Jiggling her hands, she checked for any slack.
All four of her limbs were tied. If she could just get one free, she’d create more space.
She wriggled her arms, twisting her wrists against the rough ropes. Hot and heavy breaths came through her nose, and sweat moistened her brow. After struggling for several minutes, she let her arms go lax.
Despair pushed down on her.
Metal tinkled at her door. She jumped and swiveled her head just as the door opened. Terror tickled the tender spot on her neck. New shivers racked her body.
The figure shut the door and locked it then moved across the room. He didn’t speak, nor did he try to be quiet. He rounded the foot of her bed and stepped into the moonlight. Willy wore linen pants and a black polo shirt.
The acrid taste of fear burned her mouth. He placed a hand on the large knot tying her wrists to her ankles. A knife glistened.
Paralysis took over her muscles and any coherent thought. She blinked, praying that he’d disappear. That she was seeing things.
The bedside lamp clicked on. Willy brought the blade to the knot and cut it. Instantly, she pulled away, no longer hog-tied.
His grip bit into her elbow. “Sit up and don’t say a word.”
Atlas’s muscles vibrated. Adrenaline thick in his veins. He dropped Chris’s body to the ground and pivoted toward the hill the guards had just descended. With Havoc and Rogue coming around the other side, they’d successfully clear the perimeter before entering.
Viper moved beside him. They quickly ascended the steps. His boots scuffed over the concrete and his breath whooshed easily through his nose. In seconds, he’d be inside. He’d find Molly.
Had to.
Nearing the corner of the house, he stopped and then pressed his back to the stone. Peeking around the corner, he spotted a long, double-wide driveway. Palm trees flanked the laneway and a fountain sprayed water near the front door.
Creatures hissed and croaked, but there was no sign of hostiles.
Static crackled in his ear. “What’s your 20?” Rogue asked.
“Northeast corner of the house. Ready to move on your go.”
“We’re coming up the side. Removed two enemies.”
The exterior of the house dug into his back. He held the rifle against his chest, his finger near the trigger. Water trickled from his hair down his spine.
Viper stayed at his side, ready to move.
“Go,” Rogue said.
Atlas pushed away from the wall. Huddling down, he ran toward the front door. Rogue and Havoc came from the opposite side. Atlas paused on the stoop and Rogue motioned with two fingers for Atlas to kick it down.
Halle-fucking-lujah.
Adrenaline soaked his skin with fire. He faced the door and jammed his boot into the spot next to the handle. It held fast.
He pounded again. This time the metal jumped on its hinges. The door flew open. Atlas rushed inside, sweeping his rifle from left to right. A set of stairs stretched to the basement. Rogue jerked his head at Havoc and they descended.
Enemy fire flew up the stairs, but Atlas didn’t stick around. Rogue’s return shots assured him they had it covered. He raced over the marble floors of the main area.
Two guards rushed forward from the kitchen. Bullets clapped. Atlas ducked and aimed at the shooter’s chest, taking him out. Viper’s shot got the guy’s friend in the head.
“Spread out. Find Molly.”
Viper went left through the kitchen and Atlas made his way toward the living room.
Beachy furniture sat in front of a TV. A sliding door faced the side of the house.
He skirted around the couch and entered a hallway with three doors, two of which were closed.
The one on his right nearest him hung ajar, revealing a bathroom sink.
“Molly!” he bellowed.
No movement. Anxiety twisted his gut as he panned his gun from one door ahead of him to the other.
Atlas stepped toward the door on his left and tried the handle. It opened. He flung the door wide and barreled inside, sweeping his gun around the room.
A king-sized four-poster bed took up the center of the space. On it was a figure curled into a ball. Molly.
His breath stopped.
He ran to the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder. Cool skin touched his palm. No, not cool. Cold.
Too cold.
“Molly,” he breathed, bringing his fingers to her neck. No pulse.
No, no, no.
Devastation threatened to bring him to his knees. He was too late— No, he wouldn’t accept that. Couldn’t let her die. He urged her onto her back. Dark hair spilled onto the white pillowcase and he froze. He studied the unfamiliar face. Not Molly.
He expelled a pent-up breath. Sadness for the naked young woman crushed his shoulders. He backed away, his hands shaking.
She wasn’t Molly—which meant Molly was here somewhere. Had to be. He stormed across the room.
Viper came from the living room as Atlas stepped into the hall.
“A woman’s in there—dead.”
Viper’s face contorted, and he sent a fleeting gaze toward the open door, then nodded at the door that was still closed.
Atlas brought his fingers to the cool metal. Locked. “Molly!”
She was in there. Christ, he needed her to be.
Still alive.
Please, God, let her still be alive.
He threw his shoulder against the door. Wood splintered and he tumbled into the room, aiming the weapon.
His gaze locked on two figures standing on the other side of the bed. A lamp illuminated the room’s pink walls, silky sheets, and white marble floor.
Molly stood in front of Willy as a human shield. Her blond hair damp and tangled around her shoulders. Dark circles underscored her eyes and bruises marred her pretty face. Her clothes were soaked, torn, and dirty.
Her terrified eyes landed on him. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she stared at him in disbelief. As if she wanted to believe he was there but couldn’t.
Willy’s hand tightened on her shoulder. A knife hovered at her jugular. “Go on, take one more step so I can open her throat.”
A cold whoosh of calm swept over his heated skin. Molly was alive. The rest was in his hands. And he wouldn’t let her go.
Not this time.