“No.” Adam flung open his door. “I’m gonna go get her.”
Dylan reached out and grabbed his arm across the central console. “No, Adam – you’ll blow the whole thing!”
“Let go – I’m not just gonna sit here and lose the woman I love!”
“The woman you love? Adam, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“I love her.”
“You’ve known her a week.”
“Let go of my arm, Dylan!”
“No! Imagine all the info she might be getting right now – I’m not letting you fuck this up. Surely your dead brother’s more important than some woman you only just met!”
Adam’s leg – which was half-outside the car – was getting soaked. “She’s more than that to me.”
“Don’t do this, Adam.”
Adam hadn’t had a rough-and-tumble with his brother for over a decade now, but he needed to get to Amy. He twisted around so that he was above Dylan, then he swung his fist and punched him in the face.
The impact – and probably surprise – made Dylan let go. Adam didn’t bother to check if he was okay. He would be – Dylan was a tough cookie. He clambered out into the rain and ran towards the house.
“Fuck you, Adam!” Dylan shouted, clambering out and running after him.
Adam had no idea if Dylan had retaliation on his mind, or whether he was joining the rescue, so he quickened his pace and ran up the hill towards the house, making sure he kept ahead of his furious brother. He sped up the steps two at a time, then banged on the door.
“Tariq, let me in! It’s Adam Quinlan!”
Dylan halted next to him, gasping for breath. “You really think he’s gonna let you in, knowing she’s in there and you’re out here, seething with anger?”
“Well, what do you suggest?”
“What do I suggest? Adam, there’s a locked door between you and the so-called woman you love. What the fuck do you think I’d suggest? Break the fucking door down.”
Adam coiled his muscles, stepped back, then rammed his shoulder against the solid oak. It hurt like hell, but he absorbed the pain and shook it off. The door remained resolutely intact.
Dylan stood beside him. “We’ll do it together, okay? One, two, three.”
They propelled themselves at the rickety door. It rattled and shook, but refused to budge.
Adam raised his voice against the pouring rain. “Again!”
They rammed their combined body weights against the door a few more times, before the wood finally cracked down the middle – still remaining locked. Adam summoned his strength and kicked the splintered wood hard with his boot, making a gap big enough to squeeze through. Then, being careful not to snag his flesh, he poured himself into the jagged hole.
Dylan followed.
“Amy!” he called, heading straight for the basement. “Where are you?”
He bounded towards the steps and braced himself to shoulder-slam the basement door, but the sound of Amy screaming his name shot terror into his brain. Oh god, don’t let me be too late!
Chapter Twenty-Six
Amy leapt back and screamed in terror, as Ivan’s peaceful expression surged to shock at the sight of her. Time slowed to a slur; seconds stretched to infinity. Amy’s mind raced, battling with fear and confusion. What the fuck was happening?
Ivan shot to his feet and panted, staring at her in shock. Amy clenched her fists, feeling the room spin frantically around her – Ivan was supposed to be dead! Had Tariq kidnapped him and faked his death? But why would he do that? Ransom money? Not if he was dead. This made no sense…
Amy’s muscles coiled like a pouncing cat, as Ivan slowly held out his hands.