She crouched near the bushes that surrounded the house. She needed a sign, something to show her if Saxon was safe. And if he wasn’t safe, then she really needed some tip-off to indicate she should run in there like a mad woman, swinging her trusty crow-bar.
She just needed a sign…
***
“Saxon!” Victor shouted when he saw his brother. He lunged up out of the chair, his hands cuffed in front of him. “Dammit, man, you—”
“He didn’t come alone,” Tracy said as she stepped from behind Saxon. Her gun was pointed at his brother. The light in that little room shone down on them, so very brightly.
And, too late, Victor realized that Gary hadn’t been the only traitor in his department.
I am so fucking blind. Had Tracy been working with Gary all along?
“Um, who are they?” a woman with dark hair and scared green eyes whispered.
Saxon’s gaze had shifted to Zoe and his jaw hardened when he saw the bomb wired to the woman’s chest.
“Hey, baby…” Hugh stepped from behind the door. He’d been waiting, biding his time as Saxon and Tracy entered the home. “I see you came with company,” he told her.
Then Tracy leaned forward and kissed the bastard.
What. The. Hell?
Saxon used that moment, though, the brief distraction that it was. He spun quickly, and he grabbed Tracy’s wrist. He yanked the gun from her hand and, in a flash, he’d aimed it right at Hugh’s face.
And Hugh…as per usual…laughed. Hugh lifted his left hand, revealing the trigger he had there. “One touch, and your brother will be blown to bits. We all will be.”
Tracy pulled away from Hugh.
And Saxon didn’t fire his weapon, but he also didn’t lower the gun, either. “Vic, I want you to get the fuck out of here,” he ordered without looking over his shoulder. Victor knew the guy wasn’t about to take his stare off Hugh, not when the man with the detonator was the main threat in the room.
Victor heard Zoe’s breath catch.
“Run up the stairs and get out of here!” Saxon barked. “I’ll hold them.”
Hugh pushed Tracy out of his way. “Drop the gun! Drop it or we all die!”
But Saxon shook his head. “No. I don’t think you’ve got the balls to hit the button. There’s a timer hooked up to her bomb.” Saxon knew his bombs, thanks to a few undercover missions that had put him right into the line of fire—literally. “You think I didn’t see it? You’re planning to kill us, but not until you’re safely away. Too bad, asshole. Too bad…because if you don’t let my brother walk out of this pit, you won’t ever get away! I will kill you right here!”
Hugh’s finger was poised over the trigger.
“Please,” Zoe begged Victor, “don’t leave me. I don’t…I don’t want to die here.”
He turned and his fingers caught hers. “You won’t.” None of them would die there.
But then a gun blasted. He whirled back around, expecting to see that Saxon had just shot Hugh…but Saxon was the one staggering back. Saxon was the one with blood pouring down his shirt.
And Tracy raised her gun and aimed it at Victor. “Backup weapon,” she said, giving a grim smile. “Guess he should have checked for that.”
Saxon!
“Do you know…” She asked Victor, her voice oddly calm, “how much I really hate you?”
Saxon groaned and tried to lift his weapon.
Tracy advanced and put her gun right to his head. “I hate you so much,” she told Victor without looking at Saxon, “that I’m going to make you watch while I put a bullet in your brother’s head, and then I’ll let Hugh here kill you.”
***
When she heard the gunshot, Elizabeth’s whole body jerked. She was racing toward the house before she could even think to stop herself.
Not Saxon. Not Saxon. Not—
She couldn’t see anything in that house. It was too dark. She stumbled around, gripping the crowbar too tightly as she searched desperately for Saxon. She wanted to call out to him, but she was afraid—afraid of making him more of a target. Afraid of distracting him.
She stumbled, she searched…and then she almost fell in the damn hole in the floor. Elizabeth’s hand flew out and grabbed onto the ladder. A ladder that must lead to some kind of basement. As quickly as she could, Elizabeth crawled down and that was when she heard the voices…
“I hate you so much that I’m going to make you watch while I put a bullet in your brother’s head, and then I’ll let Hugh here kill you.”
***
Saxon stared up at the woman who held the gun to his head. He was so tired of betrayal. Every time he turned around.
“You fucked me, then you tossed me aside,” Tracy told Victor. “Like I was nothing.”
“I was drunk that night,” Victor snapped back.
“I can’t believe this shit,” the woman wearing the bomb—had to be the missing Zoe Peters—muttered.
“But I found someone who recognized my worth. My true worth.” She smiled over at Victor. “Want to guess who introduced Hugh and me?”
He didn’t speak. Neither did Saxon, but he did do one hell of a lot of bleeding.
“No? It was Gary. Good old, dead Gary. You see, Gary was training me…to learn how to use the FBI’s secrets. To use everyone’s secrets. It’s those secrets that can make you rich.”
“You’re not going to be rich,” Victor shouted. “You’re going to be rotting in a jail cell.”
Tracy just shook her head. “I’ll be living on an island. Sipping margaritas all day.” She turned her attention on Saxon. “You see, I know what sweet Elizabeth is worth, and I’m about to collect on that bounty.”
The hell she was.
The bullet had slammed into his stomach, a gut shot that hurt like hell, but he actually didn’t think Tracy had hit anything vital. Her mistake.
“Where is she?” Hugh demanded. “Where is the bitch?”
Saxon’s gaze drifted to him. “You’ll…want to watch that.” Because no one talked shit about his Elizabeth.
Hugh smirked at him. “You’re a dead man already. Why the hell do I care what you think I should watch?” Then he grabbed Tracy’s arm. “Where is she? I told this dumb asshole to bring her here—”
“He did,” Tracy assured him. “She’s in the car, waiting all clueless and scared. I figured we needed to handle him before we took her out. Saxon is obsessed with the woman, so I knew he’d be trouble.”
He was bleeding all over the floor. “Not…obsessed…” Saxon snarled at them. “Fucking…love…her…”
Tracy’s eyes widened, then she laughed. “Oh, that’s priceless. Priceless. Guess what you’re going to get to do? You ready for this? You’re going to get to die for the woman you love. For that clueless little bitch up there who doesn’t even know what’s happening in here.” Her fingers tightened around the gun. “See you in hell, Sax—”
Her words ended in a pained grunt. Something hit her from behind and she went down hard. When she crumbled, Saxon lunged forward. He scooped up her gun and whirled to see…Elizabeth. Standing there, breath heaving, and a crowbar clutched in her hands.
Holy hell, but I love her.
“I’m not a clueless bitch,” Elizabeth muttered.
Hugh screamed at her, and Elizabeth whirled and slammed her crowbar into his arm, too. The bomb’s detonator fell from his hand, tumbling right to the floor.
But it didn’t hit. Victor’s cuffed hands flew out, and he grabbed the detonator. “Got it,” he growled.
Yes!
Tracy appeared to be unconscious from that hard crowbar hit, but Hugh was trying to grab for Elizabeth. “Get away from her!” Saxon roared as he tackled the bastard. One hit had Hugh on the ground, and then Saxon started pounding him. Again and again and again.
No one hurts Elizabeth. You sure as shit don’t trade for her life!
“Saxon.” Elizabeth’s hands closed around his shoulders. “Saxon, it’s okay. He’s not fig
hting back.”
He couldn’t. The guy was out cold.
“Would someone please get this freaking bomb off me?” Zoe’s yell had him glancing over his shoulder even as his hand was still poised in a fist—one ready to smash into Hugh once more. He’d broken the guy’s nose and blood covered Hugh’s face.
“Please,” Zoe said. “Before that psycho wakes up!”
Victor was already heading toward her, reaching out with his hands. The woman looked like she was equipped with some kind of vest, one that was fully wired with explosives. He’d actually seen a bomb just like that during one of his other undercover missions. Though he’d done everything he could, the victim hadn’t escaped alive.
“Oh, my God,” Elizabeth whispered.
Saxon surged to his feet and immediately staggered. Damn blood loss. But then he reached for Elizabeth, running his hands over her. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she told him, swallowing hard even as her fingers skimmed his jaw. “I just…I needed you.”
“And I need some help over here,” Victor shouted. “Sax, shit, you’re the one with the bomb experience! Help me!”
Saxon made his way to his brother. Zoe was still sitting in the chair, her face pale and her eyes—a shade very close to Elizabeth’s green—were wide with fear. “I really don’t want to die like this,” she told him.
Elizabeth was at Saxon’s side, holding him tightly. His blood was on her, and the wound just kept throbbing, probably because the bullet was still inside of him. He’d deal with that, later. One thing at a time.
First, the bomb.