Chapter Forty - Rachel #2
I can do nothing but watch as Ryder lets the soldiers regain control of him.
Diaz laughs, and the sound might be charming if it wasn’t laced with venom. His lips lower to my ear. “I think we’ll be having lots of fun together.”
“Wait,” Mary’s voice cuts the suffocating tension with Diaz, and though it’s brief, I’m grateful for the reprieve.
He turns us toward her, and the knife leaves my throat, though it’s quickly replaced by an arm wrapped around my neck. It’s not tight, but the threat of his strength looms over me.
“A problem?” he asks, leisurely stroking his free hand up and down my torso.
Mary steps forward, clearly terrified but trying to disguise it. “We change our minds. You can’t take them both.”
Mary’s eyes flash to mine, and I want to believe the regret there is fake—but it can’t be. She wouldn’t be putting her life on the line if it was.
“Yes, you can,” Vance snaps, looking murderously at his partner. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Mary and Diaz ignore him.
“Is that so?” he asks, letting the arm around my neck lower, trailing crudely down my body and inspiring a shudder.
Mary nods sharply.
“And why should I listen to you?”
I watch how her shoulders stiffen but don’t cower. How her eyes flash with a burst of confidence. How her mouth opens to answer him.
And how she collapses to the ground as a gun at my side fires, hitting her square between the eyes.
My shriek is instant and ear-splitting, but Diaz only chuckles, tucking his gun back in its holster.
He clicks his tongue, returning the arm around my throat like it doesn’t have the blood of my former best friend splattered across it. “Turns out I don’t care.”
Vance watches Mary’s body with wide eyes like he just realized the guns aren’t for show.
“I suggest playing your next move wisely, Mr. Vance,” Diaz clips. “I have half a mind to give you the same treatment and leave here with the money, brute, and my new toy. So, what will it be?”
Vance visibly swallows, sliding his gaze to Diaz with a forced smile. “No issues here.”
“Then I believe we’ll be on our way.” I feel the jerk of his nod as he signals one of his soldiers to drop the duffle in front of Vance.
Vance wastes no time taking the money and limping to his car without a single look back at the lives he’s ruined.
As Vance drives away, Diaz pulls me back, and I look expectantly to the airstrip entrance. If Moreno doesn’t get here before we’re on that plane, any hope Ryder and I have of escaping is gone.
Step.
Step.
Step.
With each one, my eyes stay locked on the entrance—waiting, hoping, praying that cars will speed to our rescue.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Nothing.
No one is coming. I cast one look over my shoulder to where Ryder is already being dragged up the steps, and I’m only a few feet from the same fate.
If no one is coming to help us, then I’m already as good as dead—which means I have absolutely nothing to lose.
With a deep breath, I accept that I may face a world of pain—or even death—but it’s better than going willingly.
Pulling from every defense lesson Ryder gave me, I thrash in Diaz’s grasp, wrenching my arms from his hold with a swift jerk.
He mutters a curse, and I crash to the ground, unable to catch myself with my arms still restrained behind me. My back hits the concrete, and all the air in my lungs leaves in a whoosh.
“Rachel!” Ryder calls, his voice thick with dread.
When Diaz gets close, I kick my legs out wildly, reveling in the grunt when one lands on his shin and another gets his stomach.
The click of a gun snaps my eyes to his deadly, somber ones. He takes advantage of my hesitation, stepping in too close for me to kick him again.
He grips a fistful of my hair and uses it to drag me to a standing position as a whimper is forced from me.
As soon as my lips part, the barrel of his gun is shoved between my lips, pressing so far back that it triggers my gag reflex.
My eyes fill with tears, and I stare wildly into Diaz’s unrelenting stare.
I realize that, while I’m huffing and barely able to catch my breath, the struggle didn’t have any physical effect on him whatsoever, and that fills me with so much hopelessness that the tears fall.
“You know,” he says in a tone that’s edging on amused, “you’re lucky the idea of having you is more appealing than seeing your head on a stick.
I’ll enjoy breaking you and using you to break him.
” He nods to Ryder behind us, who I can barely see frozen on the steps, watching this exchange with horror.
“Then, and only then, will I let you beg me to take your life—and, being the gentleman that I am, I’ll grant you that wish. Understand?”
He stares at me expectantly, and I give as much of a nod as I can manage since I can barely move with his grip on my hair and a gun in my mouth.
Diaz releases my hair, but the gun remains in place as he lifts a finger and brushes away my tears with terrifying care.
“I can’t wait to see more of these,” he whispers and finally pulls the weapon from between my lips. I’m gasping for breath when he takes hold of my upper arm, ready to pull me up the stairs.
Then I hear the sweet sound of screeching tires.