Chapter 20 #2
Fuse stepped in front of me. “Luca wouldn’t have gone through the effort to forge a passport and documentation if he was going to do that,” he said, his tone low and calm. “Rushing in without a plan could get you killed. And, if she’s fallen for you, that would kill her.”
His words punched through the haze of fury. I swore under my breath. I’d never been good at waiting. Or planning. My whole life was built on impulse and reaction.
Merrick and Coast pulled in beside us, killing their engines in sync. Merrick swung off his bike, cold and controlled. Coast’s gaze scanned and assessed the runways and hangars like the habit was ingrained in him from his years as a Navy SEAL.
“We’re not charging a hangar blind,” Merrick said, his tone clipped.
“I’m not going to stand here with my dick in my hand. We don’t know what he’s doing to her.” I balled a fist, ready to start swinging if they tried to stop me.
Reaper stepped between us. His calm, lethal energy matched Merrick’s.
“We’ve run point on more ops than you,” Reaper said evenly. “We’ve retrieved hostages before. You haven’t. You don’t understand how quickly this can go south.”
“She’s my woman,” I hissed. “I’m not taking a backseat while you all talk this to death.”
Coast’s eyes narrowed. “No one’s saying you sit this out.
But you charge in solo without knowing what’s inside those doors, we’ll have funerals to plan.
We need eyes, angles, and timing before we make a move.
The dark will cover us, but we need to keep the element of surprise for as long as we can. ”
Merrick jerked his chin toward the hangar.
“There’s one vehicle, but we should assume Luca’s inside with at least one more man.
First, we clear the exterior. Then we approach low and slow along that side wall.
Coast takes the far side, Reaper with him.
Fuse and I take the near side. Hatchet, you’re on me.
Don’t break formation unless I give the word. Understand?”
My instincts screamed no. But every second I argued was one more Luca had to hurt her. I ground my teeth. “Fine,” I bit out. “But if I see him touch her, I’m ending him.”
Merrick’s mouth flattened. “We’ll end him at the junkyard. I think every one of us wants to take our shot.”
We moved in sync with our weapons up. Despite our lack of military experience, Fuse and I shadowed Reaper, Coast, and Merrick like we’d trained together for years.
The smell of jet fuel and cooling asphalt burned my nose as we hugged the side of the neighboring hangar, using it as cover as we closed the distance.
Coast held up a fist, and we all froze. A black sedan rolled toward Luca’s hangar and eased to a stop beside the jet.
“Pilot,” Coast murmured. “That bird’s leaving soon.”
“We move as soon as the pilot’s clear of the car,” Merrick ordered. “Fuse, Reaper, flank left. Coast, take the pilot. Hatchet, you’re with me. We stay quiet as long as we can. We still have the element of surprise.”
The pilot climbed out. He grabbed his bag and started toward the jet.
My eyes caught a flash of movement inside the shadowed hangar.
Luca half-carried Merci out the door. She saw us before he did.
I watched her eyes widen at the sight of our shadows.
Her spine stiffened, and then, like the stubborn, beautiful hellcat she was, she started to fight.
Her arms broke free from behind her back, and she scratched at Luca’s eyes.
Irritation twisted Luca’s features as he grappled to regain control. He drove his fist into her side, putting his full weight behind it. Her body folded around the hit, and she crumpled to the ground. His boot crunched into her side twice as he swore in Italian.
My vision turned red.
Merrick hissed my name, but it was too late. I sprinted toward her, the beat of my boots echoing in the air.
Coast caught sight of me from the corner of his eye and tackled the pilot, shoving the man into the side of the car before he could process what was happening.
Luca barely had time to turn. His eyes widened as I slammed into him. He crashed to the ground, and his head cracked against the tarmac with a satisfying thud. My gun clattered away, but I didn’t give a shit. I didn’t want to use bullets anyway. I wanted to tear him apart with my bare hands.
I straddled Luca and started swinging. The sickening sound of flesh and bone breaking filled the air like a siren’s song. I reveled in the hot, thick blood coating my fists and the sounds of crunching bones and cartilage.
“Hatchet!” Merrick’s voice cut through the roar in my ears. Somewhere behind me, Reaper barked orders and Coast cursed at the struggling pilot.
I drove another punch into Luca’s cheek. A spray of red coated my shirt and my skin.
“Stand down!” Merrick snapped. The command carried enough authority to make me hesitate. A hand clamped on my shoulder. “We need him breathing if we’re going to make him pay.”
I sucked in a ragged breath. My vision refocused. Luca lay beneath me, his face a ruin of blood and bruises.
He groaned. Good. He was alive. I wanted to make him suffer for as long as possible.
I shoved off him and staggered to my feet. Reaper didn’t miss a beat, stepping in and rolling Luca to his front. He placed a knee between his shoulder blades as he shouted at Fuse to bring him some zip ties.
I stumbled toward Merci, who had started to uncurl her body. She released a wet cough and wiped her hand across her face, smearing blood that poured from her nose.
“Merci,” I choked out.
Her eyes, glassy with pain, lifted to mine. “About fucking time,” she rasped.
The knot in my chest loosened. She was alive. I dropped to my knees in front of her and helped her rise. She winced as my hands grazed her ribs. Her lashes fluttered, tears streaking down her cheeks.
“Are you OK?” I asked, scanning her from head to toe. She was bleeding, bruised, and cut up.
Merci rolled her eyes. “Just fucking peachy.”
“Where does it hurt?” I asked. She looked too fucking fragile.