Chapter 46
Callum
Got him.
The asshole shooting at me plummets to his knees, weakened by the holes I just plugged into his chest. I hope Darren shows up soon. And that Lucy—
A woman’s shriek pierces the air. Blood solidifies in my veins before a fresh burst of adrenaline floods my system.
I need to get to them. To Lucy. She has to be okay. Alive. A shriek has to mean they’re caught, not dead.
The last guard charges me, pounding down the hallway, and it’s like fury and fear narrow my world into a single goal.
My hands operate without conscious mental command, aiming and shooting at the enemy.
I discharge my gun’s final bullet and hit the guard charging me right between the eyes.
Without pausing, I withdraw the dead man’s weapon I tucked into my waistband and fire again.
My aim is true.
A red hole blooms right between the fucker’s eyebrows. He spasms to the ground. I’m already gone, blazing around the curve in this corridor and out into the living room.
The sight that greets me flatlines my heart.
“Uh, uh, uh. Not another step.” Marco Benetti issues the warning and digs the tip of his gun into Heather’s temple.
Worse by a mile, though, is the monster restraining Lucy. I don’t understand how Victor Roguilin is here and not in prison where he belongs, but the reasons are unimportant. What I need to focus on is finding a way out of this clusterfuck.
I skid to a halt at the edge of an ugly yellow rug now stained with blood. That same fury and fear storms through my limbs, tautening every muscle with anticipation. My lips curl like a rabid animal’s. “Let them go.”
Heather whimpers and hunches in fear, but despite the tremors in her hands, my Lucy stands tall. An Amazonian warrior with murder in her eyes.
“It’s simple.” Benetti presses the gun into her head with more force. “Drop your weapon, or I kill her.”
Though Roguilin holds the gun trained on Lucy in a less aggressive manner, his free hand strokes her hair like he would a treasured pet. Watching me, he leans closer and licks her cheek. Lucy’s shudders, and I summon every ounce of willpower to stop myself from ripping out his tongue.
Plan. Stick to the plan.
“I want to make a deal with you.”
I direct the question at Benetti. If I witness Roguilin do any other messed up shit to Lucy, I might lose control and go postal.
I stalk closer, only stopping when Benetti cocks his weapon.
“This isn’t a negotiation.” His finger curls around the trigger. “Drop the gun.”
Lucy gasps, and I can’t help but look. Fear for my safety grips her features, and a solitary tear tracks down her cheek.
Despite these terrible circumstances, no other woman compares to her beauty. Both her outer beauty and the inner glow that refuses to die.
I split my attention between Benetti and Roguilin. “So you don’t want the crypto wallet, then?” I tap my front pocket.
Benetti practically starts salivating. He licks his lips and nods at my pants. “Show me. Easy, or we’ll see how pretty she is with a bullet in her skull.”
Slowly, I extract the drive from my pocket. “Release them, and you get the money. We’ll trade.” I ease forward. “The women for the wallet.”
Roguilin propels Lucy closer so he can examine the device. “Looks the same, but how do we know it’s not a decoy?”
I can almost see the thoughts running through his head. Shoot me, and he keeps both the drive and Lucy.
As if to prove my point, his gun hand twitches. I raise my shirt and press a button.
The red light on the bomb vest strapped to my torso blinks on.
Benetti recoils. “The fuck is that? Are you nuts?”
When Darren swiftly rigged a phony switch on the vest, we hoped for exactly this reaction. Thanks to my friend’s in-depth knowledge on the topic, no one can tell that the button isn’t actually hooked up to the explosives.
Darren said if I got shot, they probably wouldn’t detonate.
Not especially reassuring, but here we are. I needed a way to reduce my risk of getting gunned down during negotiations for Lucy’s life, and this was the only plan we could come up with on such short notice.
“How about we don’t find out how nuts I am? This can all end with everyone remaining in one piece. Just hand the two of them over and take the wallet. That way, we all get what we want and leave happy.”
The male supermodel jerks his chin up and down. “Yes, okay. Let’s—”
“Unacceptable.” Roguilin cuts Benetti off and tightens his grip on Lucy. “We’ll trade Marco’s model for the wallet, but Lucy is mine.”
I growl, resisting the urge to stomp the fucking drive into oblivion with my boot. I would in a heartbeat if that action wouldn’t also destroy my lone bargaining chip.
The Italian’s olive skin pales. “You’re bluffing.”
I allow myself a steely grin. “Am I? I only care about one thing, and she’s standing right there. If I can’t have her, then no one will.”
I’m forced to go a little off script thanks to Roguilin’s surprise guest appearance. His tight jaw suggests he buys my willingness to kill us all to prevent him from claiming Lucy.
Just proves what an idiot he is. While I’d happily sacrifice my own life to save Lucy’s, I would never intentionally risk hers. “Do you really want to take that chance?” I glance around, searching for something to back up my threat. Anything—
“We appear to be at an impasse, then.”
At Roguilin’s calm statement, red blotches overtake Benetti’s pallor. “Are you out of your mind? No woman is worth that much money. I, for one, would like to keep my guts inside my body.”
“Are you questioning me?”
The silken threat underlying Roguilin’s query isn’t lost on me, but Benetti either misses or ignores it. “If you’re willing to get blown up over a useless woman, then yes. I can introduce you to any other model you’d like.”
“The problem with that plan is I don’t want any other model. Lucy is special. Aren’t you, my pet?”
My molars grind over the affectionate nickname. Benetti’s nostrils flare. He starts to swing toward Roguilin, lowering his gun hand a little in the process.
Capitalizing on his distraction, I pull the trigger twice in rapid succession. Blood explodes from his skull. He stumbles, and Heather screams as his weapon discharges.
When she jerks free, I plug another bullet in his chest. He hits the floor and doesn’t move.
Throughout all the chaos, Roguilin remains still. Unfortunately, his grip on Lucy never slackens, and his gun never wavers from her head. “No great loss. He was clearly a man who didn’t appreciate a priceless object when he saw one. Now, what do you propose?”
First, I propose cutting off his dick and feeding it to him for referring to my woman as an object.
Since punishment isn’t in the cards at the moment, the remaining option is waiting for him to let his guard down.
Or I persuade him to change his mind, but given his obvious obsession, I’m not banking on that happening.
Part of me understands. Lucy Marlow is the kind of woman who garners that type of devotion…unhinged or not.
The red light on my vest captivates Lucy.
I want to eliminate her quivering chin and haunted expression, but I can’t reveal the truth.
Even though the threat of explosives seem to have already outlived their usefulness.
With Roguilin unwilling to accept the wallet in exchange for Lucy, the attempt at leverage is dead in the water.
For a sane man, the vest should provide me with security from an attack.
I’m not convinced of Roguilin’s sanity just yet.
Either way. The only acceptable outcome is freeing Lucy from his clutches. I’d let him use my body as target practice before I allow him to abuse her again.
“Look, the only way you survive this is to take the trade.”
Something inexplicable contorts Roguilin’s features. “Maybe, but you’ll go first.”
After that, events play out in rapid succession.
Reading the threat, Lucy kicks back with her right foot and then sags all her body weight to the floor.
Veronika shouts from somewhere nearby. “Lucy!”
I shoot. My first bullet hits Roguilin in the shoulder, but the second time I pull the trigger, nothing happens.
Out of ammo.
Roguilin aims. “Let’s see who claims her in Hell.”
One.
“No!” Lucy’s shriek is agonizing.
Two.
I dive for the floor.
Three.
Pain blasts through me.
More shots fired.
Maybe using my body for target practice tempted fate.
My vision wavers. Warped voices thunder into my consciousness.
“Callum!”
Darren.
More gunfire erupts above me. My consciousness begins to slip like water from a rooftop, and cold creeps in quickly. I’m losing blood. Though everything in me wants to spring to my feet, my body won’t budge.
Voices continue filling the room. They sound so far away, like I’m underwater.
Lucy drifts into my frame of vision, falling to her knees to reach me.
Water spills over her cheeks. The tangy scent of iron fills my nostrils.
Time moves all at once, too slow and too fast.
Warm tears sprinkle my face. I focus on Lucy’s pretty mouth as it moves, but her words never reach my ears.
My consciousness dips down into a very black space. In this strange half-state, I cling to reality. Not dead but not living. I can’t move. Can’t hear. But at least I can see her face.
That beautiful face.
Pain sears my heart.
Lucy sobs. Darren and Veronika appear above her, stricken.
I wish I could tell them, Relax, it’s not the first time I’ve been shot, but my mouth won’t work.
Maybe I really am dying.
Events unfold like a silent film.
Jerky. Surreal.
Lucy continues to cry. Paramedics rush in to load me on a stretcher.
A needle pricks my skin. A machine beeps. The pain recedes.
Low whispers. Hushed sobs.
Lucy.
The last thought I have before succumbing to the darkness is about Lucy.
I love her, and now she may never know.