When Ginny exited the elevator, Reaper took her arm, hurrying her through the hallways. When they turned down the one leading to the front doors, he heard footsteps rushing behind them. Swiveling his head back, he saw four security guards rushing toward them with batons in their hands.
Seeing the batons, Reaper knew instinctively he needed them—or rather Ginny—alive. Slinging the glass door open, he rushed out, propelling them forward so fast that, if any guard was positioned outside, they wouldn’t hesitate at trying to take Ginny from him.
“Halt! Mr. James! Mr. Allerton just wants to talk with you as you requested!” one of the guards coming out of the door yelled out to him.
Reaper didn’t slow until they neared the Moke and saw their driver was holding his baton out.
“Ginny, stop, and I’ll order the guards not to hurt him and take him back to your bungalow.” Looking up toward the voice, Reaper saw Allerton standing on the balcony overhead.
“Don’t listen to him,” Reaper muttered, still moving toward the Moke.
“Ginny!” Allerton barked out.
Both of them looked up to see armed security officers leaning over the balcony with AR-15s, pointing red lasers at Reaper’s forehead.
Seeing his reflection in the window below Allerton, Reaper knew he was fighting a losing battle. Ginny wasn’t going to take a chance with his life.
“I don’t want to kill him, Ginny, but I will.”
Ginny pulled her arm away from Reaper. “Where is Agent Collins?” she called out to him.
Allerton made a movement with his hand, and two men came into view. Collins was pressed against a guard who had his arm around Collins’ neck and a gun to his head.
“You really don’t want to have these men’s death on your conscience, do you?”
“You’re going to kill us anyway,” Reaper yelled, as the guards who had followed them outside began circling them.
“Killing is what you do, Reaper. Unlike you, I don’t have blood on my hands.”
Reaper laughed at him. “No, you just pay someone else to carry the kill out for you.”
“I’m not going to discuss semantics with you. I don’t have all day, Ginny. Make your choice, or I’ll make it for you.”
Ginny’s eyes remained on Reaper’s forehead, and Reaper knew her choice before the words were out of her mouth. “Will you let him go?”
“Yes,” Allerton answered.
“He’s lying, Ginny.”
“If you hurt him, I swear to God I won’t tell you anything. Do you hear me?” she yelled up to Allerton before lowering her gaze back to him.
“At least you’ll have a chance on your own without me. Save yourself.”
“Ginny ….”
Before he could stop her, Ginny jerked out of his grasp and was immediately swallowed within the midst of guards.
“Take him back to the bungalow,” Allerton ordered his men as they ushered Ginny back inside the building.
“You’re a dead man if one hair of hers is hurt.”
Allerton gave him a superior smirk as he withdrew from the balcony.
The driver put his baton under the driver’s seat. “Mr. James, if you get into the Moke, I’ll drive you to your bungalow.”
Weighing his options, Reaper glanced toward the building and saw four of the guards stationed outside the resort. Climbing in the Moke, he got in the front seat beside the driver, giving him a hostile glance when he was about to tell him to get in the back. As they drove toward the bungalow, he wasn’t surprised when the driver the turned off the main road; there was line of guards waiting for them.
Bringing the Moke to an abrupt stop, the driver reached for the keys, but with his forearm, Reaper sliced down on the fucker’s wrist, nearly breaking it. The guy bailed out of the Moke with a howl of pain and took off running.
Reaper threw himself into the empty driver’s seat, realizing he didn’t have enough time to escape. Grabbing the keys and sliding them into his pocket, he was suddenly jerked out of the driver’s seat.
He was outnumbered by fourteen, so Reaper stood stoically to see what their next move would be. It would be a losing battle to take this many on at once; he had to wait until there were less of them before making his move.
“Move.”
Reaper felt a blow on his back when he didn’t move.
“Don’t make me handcuff you.” A guard with a beefy face came near him. “Move.”
Seeing the direction they were indicating, Reaper followed the men, who caged him in as they started walking toward the dock. They brought him to a halt beside a speed boat. Three of the guards got on the boat first. “Step over.”
Reaper didn’t demur. After getting on, one of the guards with the face of a pot roast, shoved him down on a padded metal seat beside the driver.
“Give me your hands.”
Reaper knew they were going to cuff him. Wanting the guards to think they were safe, he reached his arms backward, feeling the metal circle his wrists before the guy reached for the radio clipped to his gun belt.