Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
S iv kept trying to loosen the ropes around her wrists without her captor noticing.
They were back in San Francisco, but Foster showed no sign of slowing down.
“Where are we going?” she demanded.
“Be quiet.” He reflexively clutched the steering wheel.
“You don’t have a plan, do you?” She lowered her voice. “Do the right thing, Christian. It’s over. Man up and—”
“Quiet! This is all your fault. If you and that guy hadn’t come poking around…”
“People were dead . Their families wanted answers.”
Foster cursed. “Caro and I were going to change the world.”
“You’re deluded.”
He growled and sped up more, dodging through traffic when he could. Ahead, she saw the greenery of the Presidio. She’d been planning to visit the park as soon as she had some time off work. In the distance, she saw a glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Where are we going?” she asked again.
She got no answer.
They drove through some short tunnels on the approach to the bridge. Siv looked in the side mirror.
And glimpsed a black X6 behind them, staying back several car lengths.
Her heart jumped in her throat. Ryder and her team were coming.
The red towers of the bridge rose up ahead. Foster sped up, zipping wildly through the traffic.
“You need to slow down,” she said.
“I don’t care what you think. You helped take the most important thing in my world away.” His face twisted. “My life is over, and so is yours.”
Her pulse jumped. He’d lost it.
He accelerated and they drove onto the bridge. Siv took a second to look out across the water. Suddenly, Foster jerked the wheel to overtake a car ahead of them. He clipped the car, and the other sedan screeched to a halt, turning in a half circle. Siv looked back and saw another car crash into it.
Behind them, she saw cars stopping…
Except two X6s that sped around the crash.
“Slow down,” she tried again.
Foster laughed. “Maybe I’ll crash us right off the bridge and into the Bay.”
She kept her face blank. She continued working on the ropes, and felt them loosen and drop to the floor. She glanced out the window. She was pretty sure the bridge’s red metal railings would hold even if he crashed them into it.
Ahead, she saw flashing lights. Her chest tightened. The police had set out a barricade on the northern end of the bridge.
Foster saw them and cursed. He skidded to a stop.
“Caroline wouldn’t want you dead, Christian,” Siv said slowly.
His mouth flattened into a line. “She wouldn’t want me in jail, either.”
“A good person takes responsibility for their actions.” She thought of Ryder. He was a good man who still thought of all the people he’d lost under his care, still felt that he’d failed when he’d done everything he could and more.
Christian owned up to nothing. Ryder took on too much.
God, she loved him.
Siv bit her lip. She was falling in love with Ryder Morgan.
The Norcross SUVs screeched to a halt behind them. The men spilled out.
Vander was in the lead, striding forward. Then she saw Ryder. His hair was wet, gun in his hand.
Coming for her.
He’d never want to fight her battles, but he’d always want to help. He’d always support her as she did what she did best.
He’d never turn away from her, and always be there.
All of a sudden, Foster whipped a gun up, pointing it at her across the interior of the car. With a lurch, she realized it was her Glock.
Shit . He stared through the windshield to the police barricade. Even from a distance, Siv made out Hunt’s tall form. Then Foster looked back at the Norcross men.
He aimed the gun at Siv’s head. “We’re getting out.”
“Okay, I’ll—”
He roughly grabbed her shirt and yanked her toward his door. The console hit her hip, but she didn’t argue with the man with the gun.
He climbed out and pulled her with him. He shoved her ahead of him, and jammed the gun into her back.
“Put down the weapon, Foster.” Vander’s voice was icy cold.
“ No .” Foster shook his head. His gaze zeroed in on Ryder. “No, he has to pay for killing my sister.” He shoved Siv. “A life for a life.”
She looked at Ryder. His body was tense, his mouth a flat line.
She met his gaze.
I’ve got this. She tried to communicate it to him.
He jerked his chin.
Warmth filled her chest. Her man trusted her to do what needed to be done.
“Walk!” Foster barked.
They reached the railing separating the road from the pedestrian pathway.
“Climb.”
Siv swung her legs over and saw some cyclists had stopped several feet away, watching the drama anxiously.
The wind ruffled her hair. The Bay and the San Francisco skyline spread out before her. She’d take the time to admire the view, if it weren’t for the gun pressed to her spine.
Foster climbed over, careful to keep her between him and the Norcross men.
He dragged her to the outer railing. The water below was blue, with little whitecaps caused by the wind.
She watched Foster’s face go pale. It was a long way down, but nothing Siv wasn’t used to from her oil rig work.
“Walk.” He dragged her backward, and raised his voice. “Stay back or she gets a bullet in the back.”
The Norcross men froze. She saw anger and fear blazing in Ryder’s eyes.
They reached a spot where some maintenance was occurring on the bridge. There was white plastic draped over the railings, and some temporary signs and heavy toolboxes.
“There’s nowhere to go, Christian.” She kept her voice calm, steady. “You’re stuck between the police and Norcross. It’s time to put the gun down.”
“No.” He shook her. “I can’t go back. Caroline’s gone.” Raw pain shot through his words. “A beautiful life is gone.”
Anger festered in Siv. This guy was living in la-la land. His and his sister’s beautiful life was a fabrication. They were killers with good teeth, nice hair, and a pricey education.
Siv had seen what mattered. The small things. Being kind. Doing the right thing. Treating people with dignity. Looking out for others.
Everything Ryder Morgan stood for.
Enough . She’d had enough. Siv whipped around. Her hit sent the gun flying out of Foster’s hand.
He cried out, and she heard shouts and running footsteps.
Her guys were coming.
With a wild cry, Foster threw himself at her. He grabbed her around her thighs and lifted.
Her pulse spiked.
Oh, faen.
Everything happened so fast. Suddenly, her butt was on the railing, Foster was shoving.
Siv tried to grab the railing. She looked over Foster’s head, her heart in her throat. The Norcross men were all sprinting forward, but they were too far away.
Her gaze crashed into Ryder’s. He was flying toward her, all strength and power, arms pumping.
Then she and Foster tipped backward into the air and off the bridge.
* * *
Ryder felt his world implode. He watched, horror clawing at his throat, as Siv tipped over the railing, Foster following her.
They fell out of sight.
Off the fucking Golden Gate Bridge.
“ Siv !” Ryder’s roar echoed across the bridge.
Arms grabbed him, yanking him to a stop.
“Let me go!” He fought them.
Cam, his face impossibly grim, and a stone-faced Saxon held onto him. Ryder jerked against their grip.
“I said let me go!”
Vander stepped in front of him. His face was blank, but his dark-blue eyes were pissed.
“Let him go,” Vander ordered.
Ryder sprinted to the railing. Siv. Siv .
No . It couldn’t end like this. He’d just found her. He couldn’t have failed her too. He couldn’t live without her.
He reached the railing and looked down.
The air rushed out of his chest.
Foster and Siv both lay, spread-eagled, on a mesh platform below.
“Fuck!” Ryder yelled.
The others reached him at the railing.
“The suicide barrier,” Vander said.
“The city’s still installing it,” Saxon added. “Because of all the suicides off the bridge.”
Foster scrambled away on all fours and leaped onto the nearby work platform suspended under the bridge.
Siv leaped up, the wind tearing at her clothes, and followed. Ryder’s heart was in his damn throat as he watched her jump and land on the work platform.
With a shout, Foster charged at her.
Fucking fuck . The platform had no railings; it just held a few boxes of equipment, and stacks of metal and ropes for installing the suicide barrier.
The workers would all wear harnesses to protect them from the fall when they worked on the platform. His pulse pounded in his ears.
Siv had no harness. One wrong push…
Foster and Siv gripped each other, turning in a circle. As the pair fought, they moved frighteningly close to the edge.
“We have to get down there,” Ryder growled.
He saw Siv kick Foster. The man slammed into some boxes. He lunged up and shoved her. Siv skidded…way too close to the edge of the platform.
There was no fear or panic on her face. Despite the long fall below, she was as cool as a damn cucumber.
As Foster attacked again, Ryder realized something else. Siv wasn’t trying to kill the man. She was trying to subdue him.
Meanwhile, Christian Foster had nothing left to lose.
The sound of a gunshot had Ryder whirling.
Vander had shot the lock off some large toolboxes. He pushed open the lid. There were harnesses and ropes inside.
Vander grabbed one and shoved it at Ryder, then another at Cam. “Suit up and get down there.”
They’d all spent time rigged up in helicopters. It didn’t take long to work out the harness and slip it on. Saxon helped Ryder tighten it. Rhys helped Cam.
Vander clipped the ropes onto the railing anchor points. “Go!”
Ryder climbed over the railing, suspended in the air for a second. He saw a ladder, gripped it, and started down.
Cam came over the railing right behind him.
Ryder moved fast. The sounds of fighting were getting louder.
“Stand down, Foster,” Siv yelled.
Foster just made an angry sound. Ryder glanced over and saw the man swing at Siv.
She ducked.
Foster staggered back and glanced at the equipment. He snatched up a length of metal pipe about the size of a baseball bat.
Oh, hell.
The man swung and Siv jerked to the side.
Ryder’s boots hit the metal and he headed across the platform. He raised his Glock.
“Foster, drop the pipe and get down on your knees.”
It was like the man didn’t even hear Ryder. He swung at Siv again.
She ducked and tried to knock Foster’s legs out from under him.
“I’ll circle around him from behind,” Cam murmured.
Ryder’s brother moved around the stacks of boxes and equipment in the center of the platform.
Ryder edged closer. One clear shot was all he needed.
As Foster swung, Siv grabbed the pipe, her arms straining. She and Foster shoved at each other.
Then he wrenched the pipe free.
Siv staggered, throwing her arms up, teetering on the edge of the platform.
Fuck . Ryder fired.
The bullet flew past Foster’s ear and the man staggered, slamming sideways into one corner of the platform. He knocked into a crate full of tools. It tipped, teetered, then rammed into the platform support.
There was a groaning sound.
Suddenly, the support gave way, and the platform tilted.
Oh, shit .
Tools, ropes, and metal slid, some of it sliding off and falling like a rain of metal down toward the water of the Bay.
“Siv!” Ryder yelled.
Cool and calm, Siv crouched, gripping the metal flooring.
Foster slid with a scream. He flew off, but managed to grab the edge of the platform, his legs dangling in the air.
“Siv, come this way.” Ryder’s mouth was dry. One wrong move and Siv would fall.
No . He wasn’t losing her. He edged closer.
“I’m slipping.” Foster’s voice was high-pitched, terrified. “I don’t want to die!”
Ryder ignored the man, but Siv was staring at Foster. He saw her snag some rope nearby and tie it to the mesh platform.
There was a look on her face.
Shit . She’d lost a friend like this. This was her own damn nightmare.
“Siv. This way,” Ryder urged again.
Cam appeared, moving carefully behind Foster.
“I…can’t hold on,” Foster sobbed.
Dammit, Ryder wanted to not care. “Cam, can you secure Foster?”
“On it.” Cam grabbed a coil of rope, shifting closer.
“Siv?” Ryder asked.
“I’m okay.”
Foster made a sound…
Then his fingers slipped off the platform.
“Fuck,” Ryder bit out.
Siv sprang up, her left hand gripping the rope.
He realized in a flash what his too-tough, too-honorable woman planned.
His heart dropped into his gut. “Siv!”
She leaped off the platform, sailing out into the air, reaching for Foster.