8. Easton
Easton
“We’ll need a distraction once we’re there. Something that buys a few seconds.” Zoey steps away and begins to unzip her jacket before calmly tossing it.
What am I missing?
She flicks her white T-shirt and gestures to the outside where it’s still raining. “Half these men don’t think with the right head, if you get what I mean. Especially Todd, and he’s our first barrier to getting in. I’ll distract him.”
Those men had Gwen on the plane, and they have her now, dammit.
“I’ll take the hammer.” She picks it up and grabs a torque wrench for me.
I go to take it from her, but my hand goes still as I catch sight of the white-gold wedding band on my ring finger. No need for this anymore. I take it off and toss it onto the bench before accepting the wrench.
“My ring is stuck.” She holds up her hand, shaking her head, then quietly slides the hammer at the back of her jeans and covers it with her shirt.
I tuck the wrench into my cargo pocket, and then we start for our target location, moving like shadows in the night.
The rain continues to pour as the jungle closes in on us with every step.
The floodlights create reflections on the wet metal as we move, and by the time we reach the side door, we’re both drenched.
Zoey approaches Todd first. “Got caught out here in the rain. Don’t have a jacket I can borrow, do you?” She lets go of a soft laugh, then leans in and rests her hand on his shoulder.
“You had your jacket on when you left here.” Observant fucker. “And why are you back?” He points a gloved hand at me, his other resting on his holster. “He’s not allowed in here.”
She goes for her hammer so fast Todd doesn’t have a chance to react. She strikes him hard at the temple, and I slam the wrench into the hollow of his throat.
He coughs out one breath, and I proceed to beat him to death with the damn thing.
Once he’s down for good, we disarm him—she takes his Glock, and I snag his blade—before we drag him into the bushes. I ditch the wrench and stow the knife in my cargo side pocket as Zoey swaps the hammer for the Glock, hiding it at her back.
She punches a code into the panel—still works, thank God—before laying her thumb on the scanner. While the door slides open, I signal “eyes up.” Zoey answers with the single finger of “ready,” and we stack. She’s first in, tight against the wall.
Inside, light strips buzz and doors line the hallway. An unmasked patrol appears at the bend. His pace is slow, and like Todd, he’ll know I don’t belong here. I have a running list of shit I’ve seen him do that warrants his death, and if there’s ever a time . . .
“Jezebel sent for both of us,” Zoey wastes no time in telling him.
I step up next to her, catching him slanting his eyes over Zoey’s white shirt. “Forget your jacket?” he asks, and I take the opportunity to move.
It’s been a long time since I’ve stabbed—or beaten—someone to death. But I force away both my soul and what’s left of my humanity to brutally kill him.
We strip him of his Glock and rifle. She takes the M4, and my hand flexes around the grip of the 9mm as we press on.
The next corridor narrows. Footsteps bounce from the stairwell to our left. From the sounds of it, two sets are heading toward us. We flatten our backs to the wall on each side of the stair entrance and wait, every hair on my arms standing.
The guards spill out together, and we move like one body.
I take the first, and Zoey deals with the second.
My world reduces to the grind of boots and CQB as my forearm slams into my target’s throat.
The cartilage gives out as I tuck the Glock under his vest and fire two rounds.
It bucks twice in my hand. The suppressed pistol barks sharp and violent, the shots snapping to my unprotected ears like a firecracker.
As soon as Zoey’s mark is down, I blink hard, forcing past the shrill ringing in my ears to move again.
Hall after hall, we flow deeper into the belly of the building in a rhythm that’s obscene and natural all at once: lead, stack, cover—only it’s the two of us instead of the typical three for this pattern.
The bodies add up, and my pulse continues to drum in my ears like a countdown.
Please still be here. Be okay.
Zoey abruptly halts and raises a fist, and I turn to the side to watch our sixes as she checks the next turn.
“We’re here,” she whispers. “Three doors down. Two were posted outside her room when I left. Only one now, but that means she should still be in there.” My hand goes for my piece as Zoey’s breath hits my ear again. “Soundproof rooms in this hall. Take the shot.”
I step around her, line up the red dot sight, and fire two headshots. The shots register more as a vibration than noise, my brain refusing to process how loud they are. When the guard hits the tile and quivers, we rush to the room.
Zoey enters her code, then sets her thumb to the scanner.
“Cover the hall,” I say as the lock releases and the door cracks open.
My world instantly pauses at the sight before me. I’m stuck in place, and inside one of those nightmares where you can’t get to someone you’re trying to save.
Gwen’s pinned to the wall, and from what I can tell, she’s naked.
Jezebel is nowhere in sight. But there’s a lowlife bastard fumbling with his belt. He realizes he’s no longer alone, as something inside me detonates.
I unfreeze and move, setting my gun on the table as I rush over to her in two quick strides.
No warnings. Not shots. Too risky with her trapped behind his frame.
I step next to him, snapping hold of his wrist that’s squeezing Gwen’s throat.
When he spins around to deal with me, I drive my knee into the tendons of his leg. The bone strike is precise, and he buckles. I sweep him down, the floor greeting him hard, and climb on top of him.
From the corner of my eye, I spot Gwen going down. She bends her knees to her chest, hiding her body. Her hands must be bound behind her back, because I can’t see them. Just wide, terrified eyes.
I take a hit to the face, and my hat flies off at the quick movement. While pinning my forearm across the son of a bitch’s windpipe, I snatch the knife and press the blade tight to his throat without cutting him.
Through the open slits of his mask, his eyes thin in terror. I should question him about Jezebel, but I can’t think straight. All I want to do is take my time killing him.
But Gwen’s safety is more important than revenge. So, I only give myself five seconds. Five seconds to slowly drag the knife across his flesh.
One.
He jerks around.
Two.
I cut deeper.
Three.
Blood is now on my hands.
I vaguely hear Zoey quietly calling out my name in warning to hurry.
Four.
Four and a half.
Four and three-fucking-quarters.
I angle my head, leaning forward so my breath is on his skin, and my eyes are the last thing he sees before I hit five. “Enjoy Hell.” I make the final cut to kill him.
“Easton.” Not Zoey this time. Gwen.
My name from her lips snaps me back to the room. To the present. To her.
I toss the knife and swipe the blood from my palms onto my pants. Rolling off his body, I land on my knees in front of her.
She’s rattled. Shaking hard. Teeth clicking together. Staring at his dead body as I carefully urge her forward so I can get to whatever’s holding her arms back.
I quickly untie the ropes binding her wrists.
“Hurry,” Zoey calls out from the doorway, continuing to cover us.
Yeah, well, first things first. “Are you okay?” I’m careful not to touch her knees, which are pinned to her chest.
For a heartbeat, it’s August all over again, and I’m back in that hospital waiting for her to wake up.
When she finally looks at me, shock clouds her pupils. “E—Easton?” she sputters. My name is even more ragged on her lips this time. A half plea, half anchor. “You’re really here?”
“I am. It’s me, and I’ve got you.” I desperately want to pull her onto my lap and hold her, but we don’t have time. “One second.” I reach out for her jumpsuit, but when I face her again, I realize her ankles are cuffed and I won’t be able to get this thing on.
What’d he do, strip her, then re-tie her? If only I had more time to torture him.
“Are you hurt?” I ask again since she never answered the first time. “Did he . . .?”
She shakes her head no. “You got here in time.”
Relief hits hard and fast in a way I don’t know how to describe, but I temper the emotion when I remember we’re still in danger.
I turn to the side, briefly meeting Zoey’s eyes and getting a We’re short on time look. I locate the key to uncuff her on the table and grab it.
As I free her ankles, she begins to sob.
I have to hold her now. No way around that. I need to feel her heart beating against mine.
I shift to my ass and guide her on top of me. She doesn’t even hesitate. Lifting my eyes to the ceiling so she can lock her legs around me, I flatten her body to mine and wrap her up in my arms, resting my chin on her head.
A round pops off from out in the hall, and when she shudders against me, I tangle my fingers in her damp hair as I keep a tight hold of her for as long as I can.
My other hand skates gently up her bare back to check for lashes, and I find none. Thank God. “We, uh, should probably get going.” Should already be on the run, in fact. “More will come once they realize we’re here.”
Jezebel’s paranoia about being hacked is our saving grace in having no eyes on us now, but someone is bound to stumble on the bodies soon.
Keeping one hand at the center of her back to steady her, I search around for where I dropped the jumpsuit and grab it. “Are you able to stand? To put this on? Or do you need me to help you?”
“I need help. Please.”
I close my eyes—not ideal for a hostage rescue—and somehow guide her off my lap to stand.
“You can look. I really don’t care,” she whispers, but I’d really prefer not to be the one to dress her.
“I’ll swap places with you,” Zoey offers, knowing I’m trying to gentleman my way through this, especially after what that animal tried to do to her. “I’m here.”
I hate letting go of Gwen, but I force myself to unhand her and swap the jumpsuit for Zoey’s M4.
The hall is still clear. Well, minus the new body Zoey must’ve dropped, along with the piece of shit I killed who was guarding the door.
A minute later, Zoey pats my shoulder, and I twist around to see Gwen standing there, trembling. I pass the rifle back to Zoey, and without a second thought, I lock my fingers with Gwen’s. Cupping her cheek with my free hand, I promise, “I won’t let you down ever again.”