Chapter 16
Mac led the way into the abandoned dog racing track. They’d found Turner’s car beside the building, a pair of wire cutters and several drops of fresh blood on the backseat, along with Ellie’s purse.
Lewis had acted like a caged animal, desperate to find his mother and go after the man responsible for hurting her. He begged to join them as Mac, Sloan, and Moto loaded their weapons and put on their protective vests and gear.
“You need to stay here,” insisted Mac. “Call the police. Give them our location. Then stay in the car. You’re more likely to get yourself shot than to help us rescue your mom, do you understand?”
“What if you need another pair of hands? I’ll do whatever you say.”
“I say stay here, and that’s final.”
Mac skated along the concrete wall, the other men on his six, and prayed the boy would listen. As a child, Lewis had been hellbent on doing whatever he wanted, rules and consequences be damned, and Mac was relatively certain that hadn’t changed, which made the boy one hell of a liability.
They moved with quiet stealth, their night vision goggles allowing them to see. Ellie was here. He could feel it, and he would stop at nothing until she was safe.
Take me, God.
I’ve done nothing good in this life.
Take me out of it, but leave her be.
Every twenty yards they’d pass an opening to a small room beyond, and the men would check it out. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Then in the fourth room, bingo.
“Ellie!”
Mac ran to her side. She wasn’t moving. Was she breathing? Did she have a pulse?
He held his fingers beneath her jaw, the steady thump of her heart the best thing he’d felt in his entire life.
The sudden burst of gunfire had him bending over to protect his wife and twisting to return fire. Turner stood half in the doorway, a handgun in his grip. Shots rang out in tandem, the painful sting of a bullet hitting Mac’s Kevlar vest momentarily knocking him back.
“Cover me!” yelled Mac, heading straight for the door. Turner took off running back the way they came with Mac in pursuit, firing at him.
Lewis had better still be in the car.
The thought came unbidden, and with it, a fear unlike any Mac had ever known.
He rounded a corner and caught sight of Turner, squeezing off two rounds before the other man disappeared around another corner.
They were nearing the entrance to the building, Mac’s anxiety ramping up with every step.
He rounded the final corner, his finger nearly pulling the trigger before his brain could register the sight.
There, at the end of the corridor, was Turner. He was using Lewis as a human shield, and holding a gun to his head.
Mac came up short, his gun trained on the pair, and his brain on fire with terror. This was his boy, his baby, everything that was good in the world.
Lewis struggled against Turner’s hold.
“Come any closer and I’ll shoot,” said Turner.
Mac kept his voice as calm as possible. “The police are on their way. They know we’re here. We called them as soon as we arrived.”
“You’re lying.”
“No. They’re going to find out you killed the woman in the bay.”
“That isn’t possible. I was at the prison for Godak’s execution.”
“That isn’t true. You know how I know? Because I was at Godak’s execution, and you weren’t there.”
He needed Turner to get the gun off Lewis, and the only way he could do that was to get Turner to put it on him.
“Everyone signs in and out. As soon as I tell the police you weren’t there, they’ll find out your alibi doesn’t hold water. And when I tell them what happened here… well, it won’t take them long to put all the pieces together.”
Turner’s eyes widened. He moved the gun away from Lewis and fired at Mac.
“Run!” yelled Mac, the flash of gunpowder blinding him as Turner squeezed the trigger again and again.
Lewis sprang into action, freeing himself from Turner and sprinting toward Mac just as Mac fell to the ground.
He was aware of someone returning gunfire, unsure if it was Sloan and Moto or if the police had arrived. He thought of Ellie and hoped she’d be okay. He was glad at least he’d gotten to find her again. He was suddenly so very tired.
“He’s been hit!” Sloan’s voice echoed through the complex, and Mac wanted to ask who’d been hit, if it was Lewis, but his eyelids were so heavy he could barely stay awake.
“Dad!”
Mac forced his eyes open at the sound of Lewis’s voice. The lights were on now, glaringly bright, and his son leaned over him, blood spurting onto his shirt. Was he hurt? He tried to sit up but couldn’t move. Lewis’s hand came around Mac’s neck, slipping against his skin.
My blood.
His hand is slipping in my blood.
Lewis was trying to hold a wound in Mac’s neck closed with his bare hand. He was talking, and Mac made every effort to focus on his words. “I’ve got you, Dad. Hang in there. The ambulance is on its way.”
Then Sloan was there, too, but Mac was drifting away. He wondered where Ellie was, unable to recall where they were or exactly why he was concerned.
“Tighter,” a voice said, from farther and farther away. “Like this. Don’t let up on the pressure.”
He was in a field of tall green grass, daisies, and wildflowers. Ellie stood across the way, a knowing smile on that gorgeous face as images of their lives together flashed before his eyes. The voices that had been hovering over him were gone. No Lewis. No Sloan. No Moto.
Joy burst from his heart as he headed toward his love. “I missed you so much, baby.”
He moved to envelop her in his arms, but she disappeared, and he was left alone, in the dark and cold.
“Wake up, baby.”
It was Ellie’s voice, but Ellie was gone. He looked from side to side, the sensation of fiery pain searing the side of his neck.
“Open your eyes.”
The field was gone. He was surrounded by darkness and the fiery pain.
“Can you open your eyes for me?”
The task had never been so difficult in his life. But it was Ellie asking, Ellie begging, and Mac opened them to find her by one side of his hospital bed, Lewis asleep on the other, with his head beside Mac’s thigh.
Mac opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Ellie held up her hand. “Don’t try to talk. You were shot in the neck. You need time to heal.”
He reached up, with some effort, and stroked her face from temple to chin. She threaded her fingers with his, then bent down to kiss him on the mouth. When she straightened, Mac drew the letter “T” in the air and looked at her questioningly.
“Turner is dead. We’re not sure yet if he killed himself or if Sloan got to him first.”
Mac nodded, then pointed to Lewis.
“He’s okay,” she said. “He wasn’t hurt in the gunfire. He’s just worried about his old man. Refused to leave your side.”
Ellie smiled. “I’ll get the girls. They’ve been waiting all night for you to wake up.”
Mac reached down and stroked Lewis’s head, grateful to be alive, thinking there was hope for the two of them yet.
Mac had his family back, they were safe from harm, and Godak and Turner were both dead.
For the first time in more years than Mac cared to think about, the future was looking bright for the O’Bradys.