Chapter 32
Erica’s cheek still throbbed, but pain wasn’t the priority. Escape was.
The house settled into evening quiet, amplifying every sound and, hopefully, every opportunity.
The brute shoved Lauren ahead of him down the short hall leading to the basement door.
“You don’t have to be so rough,” Erica snapped. “She’s cooperating.”
He gave a low, humorless chuckle. “Cooperating is boring.”
Morgan crowded behind her, his fury simmering. “You should worry about yourself.”
When they reached the top of the narrow stairwell, an electronic tone pulsed through the house.
Morgan snapped, “Now what?”
“Perimeter alarm,” a third guard she hadn’t noticed muttered from the end of the hall. “Probably those damn bobcats again.”
Another alarm sounded. Voices echoed outside: shouting, moving, urgent.
Morgan frowned. “You two go check it out.”
The new guard hesitated. “We should secure the women first.”
“I’ve got them,” Morgan said quickly. His stance shifted, still bent slightly forward.
“You sure?” the bug brute challenged. “You’re walking like you got your ass handed to you by a girl.”
The other guard snickered as Morgan’s gaze went lethal. “I said I’ve got them,” he ground out between his teeth.
The guards exchanged a look, shrugged, and headed out to investigate the alarms.
Morgan turned to her and Lauren, a gun leveled at them. “I don’t want any trouble out of you two.” He waved the muzzle toward the stairs. “Get going.”
The last of the daylight seeped through the high basement window, turning the staircase a murky gray. Lauren stumbled on the first step and grabbed the railing.
Morgan muttered something unflattering under his breath.
Halfway down, Lauren tripped again. “I can’t see anything,” she snapped. “Pretty useless hostage if I break my neck, don’t you think?”
Morgan cursed, reached past her shoulder, and searched for the switch.
That was the moment Erica had been waiting for. She slammed her elbow into his gut. Caught off guard, he grunted, doubled over, and staggered on the narrow tread, windmilling for balance.
“What the—”
She drove her heel into his knee, targeting the joint. The knee gave with a sickening crack. He lurched sideways, starting to go down.
“Lauren, watch out!” she shouted, shoving Morgan with everything she had.
He missed the railing and tumbled, limbs striking wood. His strangled cry echoed off the walls, then he landed with a heavy thud below.
She peered through the gloom toward Morgan’s motionless form. “Is he dead?” she whispered, torn between hope and dread.
Lauren, who was closer, squinted too. “He’s still breathing. I think.”
His slow, agonized moan confirmed it.
Suddenly, she spun and raced up the stairs. “Run,” she urged as she passed.
Their bare feet slapped the floor as they sprinted down the hallway in the opposite direction from the guards. In seconds, they burst into a large living room. It was dark, no lights on, the last of dusk fading through the tall windows.
“This way,” Lauren whispered urgently, tugging her arm.
Having never been here before, she didn’t argue.
Lauren stopped at a door, fumbling with the lock. It stuck.
Erica brushed her hands aside. For one terrible second, the bolt refused to move. Then it slid free.
Heavy, damp night air rushed in as the door flew open, thick with the scent of rain. They were across the porch and down the steps in an instant, bare feet slipping on loose gravel.
Low clouds and drifting mist made visibility worse in the dark. It was eerily quiet, then a too-familiar pop cracked through the night.
Beside her, Lauren startled. “What was that?”
She knew it was gunfire but didn’t want to say. “It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here. Which way?”
Lauren shook her head as she glanced around the yard. “I don’t know,” she said, voice quivering. “They never let me outside.”
More gunfire answered from deeper in the mist. Then shouting. Not Russian. English.
Something had changed, but she couldn’t afford to take the time to figure out what.
She grabbed Lauren’s hand. “Into the trees!”
They ran again. Rocks and twigs dug into their unprotected feet. Branches whipped their arms.
Lauren stumbled. “I can’t see where I’m running.”
Gunfire cracked behind them. Closer.
Light flickered through the trees—flashlights, maybe headlights reflecting off the mist.
“They’re coming,” Lauren gasped. “There’s got to be a neighbor nearby. Someone who can help.”
She hesitated. Something didn’t feel right, not that anything had since the garage.
“This way,” Lauren called.
Erica turned in the opposite direction, instinctively drawn that way. “We should stay together,” she insisted, but Lauren had already faded into the mist.
She moved to follow but stumbled over a root, catching herself before going down.
“Texas Rangers! Drop your weapons!” she heard in the distance.
Hope flared, but it died just as fast. Vince was gone.
Leaves rustled, and branches snapped behind her. She should follow Lauren. But which way? She turned full circle, squinting in the dark.
A flash of light right sent her left, away from help, possibly. Or worse, Kedrov’s goons.
After no more than two steps, the ground sloped, and she lost her footing. She pitched forward into nothingness. Did she even care anymore?
Her fall ended abruptly as an arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her violently backward. She screamed and fought, desperate not to be returned to Kedrov.
“Erica! Stop!”
The voice cut through her panic. She twisted and looked up. In the dark, she could barely make out his features, but she knew the warmth of the body pressed against her, the strength in those arms, the familiar cadence of that voice.
Relief hit so hard, her knees buckled again. She grabbed his shirt with both hands, staring up at him in disbelief.
“How?” she whispered. “I felt you die.”
He pulled her against him. “Down but not out yet. Thanks to strong bones and a well-placed rib.”
She buried her face against his chest and sobbed.
“I know, darlin’,” he breathed into her hair. “But I’m here. We’re together.”
She slid her arms around him, needing proof more than words.
He stiffened, and her head snapped up.
Seeing his grimace of pain, she insisted, “You should be in a hospital!”
“No way in hell before I got to you.”
“Vince—”
“It’s barely a scratch,” he assured her, guiding her carefully through the trees.
“Wait.” She looked over her shoulder. “Lauren!” she called into the darkness.
No answer.
“Kedrov was holding her, too. We escaped together. She went looking for a neighbor.”
“A ravine runs along this side of the property. You were headed straight for it. Lauren!” his deep voice boomed.
“She’s here, Coop,” someone called from up ahead.
“Thank goodness,” Erica breathed.
A steady rain had started to fall. Through the trees, they saw headlights flooding the front yard. Rangers’ vehicles filled the property, a dozen men behind them, weapons drawn.
O’Reilly’s voice rang out, hard and unyielding. “It’s over, Kedrov! Send your men out unarmed, or we come in and take them.”
Gunfire erupted from the house. Rangers answered from the yard.
Vince dragged her behind a tree, his body covering hers.
After what seemed like forever, silence fell.
A heavily accented voice that sounded a lot like the brute shouted, “Don’t shoot! I’m coming out!”
“Pathetic coward.” This voice came from somewhere else.
A branch creaked behind them. When they turned, a tall figure emerged from the trees.
Alexander Kedrov, a gun in his hand.
“So, the Ranger survived.” He leveled the weapon at Vince, but his eyes were fixed on her. “Pity. You’ll have to watch him die again.”
Vince shifted in front of her. “Drop it.”
Kedrov’s mouth curved. “You are in no position to give orders.”
“Killing me won’t save you,” Vince said. “Rangers are crawling everywhere. It’s over.”
“Over except for the rest of my life in a cage.” His gaze tracked to her. “She should have to pay for what she’s done. If you hurt, she does.”
The woods came to life with snapping twigs and rustling brush as Rangers closed in from the sides.
O’Reilly was among them. “Don’t do it, Kedrov. I’ll drop you before you get a shot off.”
For a heartbeat, it looked like he might fire anyway.
Vince didn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Even the woods seemed to hold still.
Then, slowly, he turned the gun on himself.
“No!” Erica screamed.
The fatal shot cut her off.
Rangers rushed forward as Vince curled his arm, bringing her into his chest. She buried her face in his shirt, having seen enough blood and gore and death in the last month to last a thousand lifetimes.
“Through the brainstem,” one of the Rangers muttered. “He was dead before he hit the ground.”
She didn’t need to hear that. Still, it was confirmation that Kedrov was gone. Her legs shook as the adrenaline faded.
Footsteps retreated less stealthily than they came. Soon, there was only the occasional call of a bird.
Erica slid her hands up his chest, feeling it rise and fall. “You’re really here.”
“I told you I would be.”
“But I felt it,” she said hoarsely. “The pain… then nothing. You were gone.”
“Not today,” he said, tenderly cupping her cheek. “Not until we’re both old and gray if I have any say over it.” His thumb brushed gently over the bruise on her cheek, and his voice went quiet. “Who did this to you?”
“Kedrov. But he’s dead, and I’m okay.” Suddenly, she remembered an important detail. “You need to know about Special Agent Morgan. He’s a double agent, Vince. Feeding Kedrov intel and taking his cut.”
“I know,” he said, bending to brush his lips lightly over the tender spot. “We’ll find him.”
“You might want to look at the bottom of the basement stairs. But don’t be surprised if he’s a little banged up.”
“You know this how?” he asked, brow quirked as he gazed down at her.
“I thought he shot you. So, I may have kicked him and pushed him down the stairs.”
Both brows rose at her vehemence.
“I’d do it again, no question,” she said with conviction.
“Remind me not to piss you off,” he teased.
“I like you, so you have nothing to worry about,” she assured him.
“Good to know.”
He chuckled, low and reserved, considering the circumstances, and led her out of the trees.
Paramedics were now on scene, the Rangers having secured the rest of Kedrov’s men.
She barely spared them a glance. She had her arms wrapped around Vince’s waist and never wanted to let go. Never wanted to feel such hollowness again.
The tension coiled inside her for weeks finally broke. Her legs gave out. Luckily, he caught her before she hit the ground.
“Hey—easy.” He lowered them both to the wet grass. But the adrenaline draining from her system left her shaking uncontrollably.
One of the medics crouched beside them. “Mind if I take a look at you, ma’am?”
Erica nodded absently as he examined the bruising on her face.
He flashed a penlight in her eyes. “How did you get the bruise and swelling? Did you fall?”
“Russian bastard hit her,” Vince growled.
The light clicked off. “You’ll need to go to the hospital for X-rays.”
“I’ll take her,” he said.
The medic gave him a skeptical look. “You’re bleeding through that bandage, Ranger.”
He glanced down at the crimson-stained gauze.
“That’s more than a scratch. You’re going too,” she insisted before he could refuse.
His brows rose. Giving orders was more his speed than hers. Then his mouth twitched, and he relented. “I’ll ride with her and get it checked while I’m there.”
He was clearly indulging her, but she’d take it.
“Wait here,” the medic said. “Ambulances are en route.” Then he moved on to the next patient.
Across the yard, Lauren sat in the back of an open ambulance, an ice pack pressed to the side of her face.
“That’s Shannon’s sister.”
He looked where she did. “Except for the blonde hair, she could pass for Shannon. What’s the story?”
“Kedrov used her as leverage with me. And did the same with Shannon. She’s been through a lot.”
Two medics exited the house, then, carrying a stretcher between them. Kyle was strapped and cuffed to it. He wore a sling on his arm and two braces, one around his neck, the other, much longer, around his leg. His face twisted with hate when he spotted her.
“You little—”
The Rangers flanking the stretcher interceded, telling him threats would be added to his growing list of charges.
“He’s injured, but I’d really like to kick him again.”
“This bloodthirsty side of you is new,” Vince said. “Aimed at someone who deserves it, I kind of like it.”
She laughed, something she hadn’t thought possible that morning. “Have I told you I love you today?”
“Nope. I haven’t either. Let’s rectify that. After this…” He cupped the back of her head and drew her gently toward him.
The kiss was slow, careful, and full of everything they hadn’t been able to say.
Her fingers curled into his shirt, not ready to let go, when he rested his forehead against hers. “Next time, we’re skipping the charity gala.”
A tired smile tugged at her lips. “Okay by me. The kids will be fine getting a big fat check, and we’ll be extra fine staying home in bed.”
“Deal,” he murmured, drawing her closer.