But she stood back and watched the lights vanish.
Jasper was behind her. He had barely let anyone see his injured shoulder. He’d just growled, “Back the hell off.”
That was Jasper.
She swallowed and hoped the mask she usually wore was back in place. “You ready to hunt?” she asked him. Not waiting for his answer—she already knew what it would be—Sydney yanked out her phone, punched in the code.
The GPS screen lit up instantly.
Got you.
Because Guerrero might have taken Logan and Juliana, but they were going after them. They would get them back.
And Guerrero would get exactly what he deserved.
* * *
GUERRERO BROUGHT HIS blade against Juliana’s throat. “You have proven to be so much trouble...”
“Then maybe you should have just killed me in Mexico.”
Logan blinked, surprised by the rough words that had tumbled from Juliana’s lips. No, no, she didn’t need to be antagonizing a killer. Logan wanted Guerrero’s anger directed at him.
Not her.
The blade bit into her flesh. A rivulet of blood slid down her pale throat. The lights were on now, too bright, too stark. “Maybe I should have,” Guerrero agreed.
“But then, you knew you’d never get your
hands on that evidence!” Logan snarled at him. “And your house of cards would fall on you.”
Guerrero looked up at him. “I’m beginning to think that evidence doesn’t exist.” But he lifted the blade from Juliana’s throat.
Logan’s heart started to beat again.
But then the goon on his right shoved his blade into the wound on Logan’s side. Logan clenched his teeth, refusing to cry out as the blade twisted.
“I mean, if Juliana had the evidence, if she knew anything about it...she’d say something...now, wouldn’t she?” Guerrero asked, glancing down at the blood on his blade.
“Stop!” Juliana screamed. “Stop hurting him!”
“Oh, but we’re just getting started.” Guerrero nodded to his henchman, and he shoved that blade in even deeper.
Logan’s hands fisted and he yanked against the ropes. “Have your...fun...” he rasped. “When I’m free...I’m...killing you.”
“Promises, promises,” Guerrero muttered.
“Yeah, it’s a...promise.” One he intended to keep. Guerrero and his torture-happy guards weren’t getting away.
The knife slid from his flesh. Logan sucked in breath, but he hadn’t even brought it fully into his lungs when Guerrero waved his hands and said, “Cut off his fingers.”
“No!” Juliana lurched forward in her chair, yanking against the binds that held her. “Don’t!”
Logan braced himself. The guard came around him and—
Logan kicked out with his feet. Idiots. They should have secured his legs. One kick broke the hand of the guy with the bloody knife. The weapon flew away. He caught the other guard in the knee and there was a solid crack that made Logan grin.
He stopped grinning when Guerrero put his knife to Juliana’s throat once more.