Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
My Harley rumbled beneath me like a caged beast, every vibration sending shockwaves through my skull.
My truck might have been the easier choice, but my bike was much better for maneuverability.
The comm system inside my helmet crackled with static, the earpiece pressing against my head like a vise.
The sounds of the other men talking were like bass drums.
I didn't give a damn.
The pain was nothing compared to the terror eating me alive from the inside. Joy was with that psycho bitch, and every second I wasted feeling sorry for myself was another second she was in danger.
My ribs screamed in protest as I leaned into the first curve, the bike responding to my commands despite the way my vision kept blurring at the edges. The doctors had said I had a severe concussion, that I needed rest and medication and absolutely no physical exertion.
They could kiss my happy ass.
“Graham, you copy?” Simon's voice cut through the static.
I pressed the comm button on my handlebars. “I'm here.”
“You sound like shit.”
“I feel like shit. Doesn't matter. How far out are you?”
“Jase and I are approaching from the water. Hart and Roan are circling around to the south side with Randy and Seth.” There was a pause. “You sure you can handle this? That concussion—”
“I can handle it.”
My voice came out harder than I'd intended, but I couldn't afford to show weakness right now. Not when Joy needed me to be the SEAL I'd trained to be for twelve years.
The lake house road was nothing more than a dirt track, full of ruts and holes that made the bike buck like an angry horse. Every jolt sent fresh fire through my broken ribs, but I held on, focused on the single goal that mattered.
Get to Joy. Stop Glenda. Bring my woman home.
“Remember the plan,” Seth's voice crackled through the comm. “Graham goes in loud and obvious. Glenda will focus on the frontal assault while the rest of us move into position.”
I gritted my teeth against another wave of pain.
We'd gone over this back at the office. Use me as bait.
Let Glenda think I was coming in like some half-cocked amateur, all emotion and no strategy.
She'd concentrate on the obvious threat while the rest of the men closed the trap from every other direction.
It was a good plan. It just required me to play the part of the reckless boyfriend, which wasn’t far off the mark today.
The trees started thinning out ahead, and I caught my first glimpse of the cabin through the branches. Small, isolated, perfect for keeping someone prisoner. My blood went cold at the thought of what Joy might be going through in there.
“Eyes on target,” I reported. “Single story, two windows facing this direction. No movement visible.”
“Copy that,” Roan responded. “We're in position on the south side. Tan Chevy Impala. Glenda’s car. Same one from the hospital.”
“Simon, Jase, status?”
“Coming up from the lake now. Quiet as a cemetery.”
“Bad visual, asshole,” I growled.
I was maybe two hundred yards from the cabin when the first gunshot cracked through the air.
My heart stopped.
“Did everyone hear that?” My voice was barely controlled.
“Copy, gunshot from behind the cabin,” Jase confirmed.
“Moving to assist,” Roan said.
“Negative!” I barked into the comm. “Stick to the plan. That shot came from the woods behind the cabin. I'm going around.”
I gunned the Harley and raced around the cabin, through the clearing toward the tree line. The bike skidded to a stop in a spray of dirt and dead leaves, and I was off it before the engine stopped running. My helmet hit the ground as I yanked it off, needing to hear everything clearly.
That's when I heard her.
“Joy!” Glenda shrieked.
The voice was high, frantic, barely human. Then came the words that made my blood turn to ice.
“Where are you, Joy? Are you playing hide and seek?”
Glenda. And she sounded completely unhinged.
I drew my sidearm and moved toward the sound, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. My vision kept wavering, black spots dancing at the edges, but I pushed through it.
Joy was somewhere in these woods with an armed lunatic, and I'd crawl through hell on my hands and knees if that's what it took to reach her.
“Joy!”
Glenda's voice was getting more desperate, echoing through the trees.
“Joy. You weren't sick, were you? It was all an act.”
I moved as quietly as I could through the undergrowth, following the sound of her voice. Branches caught at my Kevlar vest, and more than once I had to stop and grip a tree trunk as dizziness threatened to drop me.
“You made a fool out of me.”
The second gunshot cracked through the air, closer this time, close enough that I could hear the bullet hit wood somewhere to my left. I dropped to one knee, scanning the trees ahead for any sign of movement.
“I don't want to hurt you!” Glenda's voice carried through the forest, and now I could hear the hysteria underneath the words. “But I can't let you leave! We belong together!”
Another shot rang out, and this time I caught a glimpse of muzzle flash through the trees. Maybe forty yards ahead to the left, moving away from me. Glenda was hunting Joy through the woods like some kind of deranged predator.
I tried to move faster, but my legs felt like they were made of lead. The concussion was making everything harder, slowing my reflexes, clouding my judgment. Behind me, I could hear boots crashing through the underbrush. Simon and Jase, moving up to support.
My foot caught on a root and I went down hard, landing on my injured ribs with a grunt of pain that I couldn't quite suppress.
“Graham!” Simon appeared beside me, his hand under my arm, hauling me to my feet. “You good?”
“I'm fine,” I lied, accepting his help to stand. Jase materialized on my other side, his weapon ready.
“Joy! You need to come back to me, right now.”
Glenda's voice was much closer now.
The third gunshot echoed through the trees, followed by Glenda's voice, now so close I could make out every word clearly.
“You are not going to get away from me. We were meant to be together. It's our destiny. Even if we have to die. We will be together.”
The three of us moved forward as one unit, muscle memory taking over despite my injuries. I’d done this dance a hundred times in hostile territory, but never with men I trusted more than Simon and Jase.
Through a gap in the undergrowth ahead, I caught sight of them.
Joy was sprawled behind a fallen log, her clothes torn and dirty, her face pale with terror and determination. She’d fallen, but she was alive. Gloriously, beautifully alive.
And standing maybe five feet away from her, with her back to us, was Glenda. She held a pistol in both hands, pointed down at Joy’s head.
“I tried to be patient with you,” Glenda was saying, her voice a sickly sweet tone that made me shudder. “I tried to give you time to see that we belong together. But you kept choosing him. Even after everything I did to show you how wrong he was for you.”
Joy's eyes met mine through the trees. For just a second, relief flashed across her face before she schooled her expression back to fear.
Smart girl. Don't let Glenda know help has arrived.
I signaled to Simon and Jase. They spread out to either side, flanking positions. Glenda was so focused on Joy that she hadn't noticed us yet.
“I’ll always choose Graham.”
“And that’s your mistake. You should have chosen—”
I took a breath, let half of it out, and squeezed the trigger.
The shot was perfect. Glenda dropped like a stone, the pistol falling from her lifeless fingers.
Two more shots rang out almost simultaneously as Simon and Jase fired their own weapons, but it was unnecessary. Glenda was already dead before she hit the ground.
Joy stayed frozen behind the log for a long moment, her eyes wide with shock. Then she was moving, scrambling over the fallen tree and stumbling toward me.
I caught her in my arms despite the way it made my ribs scream, holding her tight against my chest as she sobbed.
I felt the wetness on her shirt. “You’re bleeding.”
Joy pulled back just enough to look down at her shoulder, her face pale. Dark red soaked through the torn fabric of her shirt, spreading down her arm.
“It’s not that bad.” Her voice shook despite the brave words. “Just a graze.”
Like hell it was just a graze. I could see the way she favored that arm, the way her breathing came too quick and shallow. But arguing with her about it could wait until we got out of these woods.
“Simon. Jase. We need an extraction. Joy's hit.”
“Copy that,” Simon responded immediately. “Calling for medical.”
I gathered Joy closer, supporting her weight as we made our way back toward the cabin. Every few steps she stumbled, the adrenaline wearing off and leaving her shaky.
“Graham.” She stopped walking and turned to face me. “I knew you'd come.”
The absolute trust in her voice nearly brought me to my knees. This woman had been through hell, shot and hunted through the woods by a lunatic, and she'd never doubted I'd find her.
“I'll always come for you.” I cupped her face with my free hand, my thumb tracing the dirt smudge on her cheek. “Always.”
She leaned into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. When she opened them again, something had shifted. Something deeper than relief or gratitude.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Just hearing those words again hit me harder than any bullet ever could. Joy Magill loving me would get me through any nightmare.
“I love you, too.” The words came out rough, scraped raw with emotion. “More than I've ever loved anything in my life.”
She smiled. It lit up her face despite the blood and dirt and exhaustion.
In the distance, I could hear the rumble of engines approaching. The other men coming to take us home. But for this moment, standing in the middle of nowhere with Joy bleeding in my arms, I'd never felt more complete.
I pressed my forehead against hers, breathing her in.
“Let's go home, sweetheart.”