Quick as a whip, I snatch her into my arms before she can get away.
She turns her head and looks up at me. Her brilliant blue eyes are bright like a summer sky. And I’m the good-for-nothing-but-killing storm that’s come barreling in to cloud them over with fear.
“Declan,” she whispers.
“Let’s go.”
She jumps, forcing me to tighten my grip on her forearm as I drag her along into the main room. Not giving her a chance to think. She’s got one choice. Me.
“Don’t touch me,” she says, jerking her arm. She’s stopped and I contemplate scooping her up and physically carrying her out of here. Instead, I release her. Without pause, she crouches down and retrieves her weapon. Then stands and stares at it.
Good girl. With strong survivor instincts. And a fast learner . . . roofies, guns. Fuck knows, she’ll be needing them. I retrieve her duffel bag from the chair by the wall, feeling the weight of her mama’s afghan inside as I slide the handle over my arm. I pause and turn back to study the scumbag on the floor. Something isn’t quite right with the scenario playing out in my head.
“Who shot him?” I gesture to the man.
Her eyes flash wide, then fill with guilt.
“Kylie teach you to do that?”
“Do what? Kill a man?”
“Shoot him between the eyes?”
Another of Hayden’s signature calling-card moves. Just like the slice-and-dice party mistakenly done to her friend. A silent message to our enemies that someone is watching them. Hayden has an eye-for-an-eye way of getting things done. Just visit Freedom’s Bluff, our training facility. Dummies with bullets between the eyes decorate the grounds like lawn ornaments.
Madelyn swallows hard. “They came charging into the room. Kylie shot two of them, each in the leg. I raised my gun toward this man’s chest, wanting to stop him and thinking my chances of hitting him would be better. It’s Kylie who told me to raise the gun higher . . . oh my God . . . to make sure I killed him, right?”
I nod, suspecting that Kylie hasn’t totally given us away. Though regrettably, Madelyn is no longer green around the ears. No longer naive. Unaware of the dangerous company she keeps. Damn, how she makes me regret things I have no business regretting.
“One of them hit her over the head with the gun. They dragged her out of the room as the other man . . .” She stares at me, anguish filling her bright blue eyes, then tries to rush by me. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”
I block her exit.
She kicks at my shin. “Get out of my way.”
“They won’t kill her.” Not yet, anyway. Not before they torture her for information. For secrets she’s already told . . . or not?
My eyebrows arch as Madelyn points her gun at me. “Move it.”
“No.”
She sucks in a breath. “I will shoot you.”
I stare at her. Her lips pulled tight. Her body rigid, yet the gun shaking within her quivering hand. I did this to her. I drove her to this.
“Tell me to go to hell, Madelyn.”
“What?”
“‘Go to hell, Declan.’ Say it.”
“No. Just move aside and let me by.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You’re not giving me any choice but to shoot you. Damn you. I’ve got to go after them. That’s my sister they’ve taken. Why won’t you let me go?”
“They’ll kill you. That what you want?” I step toward her.
“Stop it.” She waves the gun at me. “Stop pretending. Stop acting like you’re protecting me.”
I keep moving until the nose of her pistol lay directly over my heart. “You chasing after them doesn’t suit my needs,” I reply, brutally.
“Can’t you see how it’s killing me?” She looks up at me and, for a second, I wish I were a better man. For her.
She flinches as I knock the gun from her hand. She cries out as I catch hold of her waist and haul her up into my arms. She pulls back and then I feel a sharp sting as she slaps my face.
I did this to her.
I’m doing this for her own good.
“I’ve never come so close to hating someone,” she hisses, still struggling in my arms, still desperate to escape. Still not understanding that her only hope at finding Kylie has her in his arms, and is incapable of letting her go.
“And I’ve never come this close to loving someone,” I grind out, feeling as helpless and as honest as I’ve ever been.
Goddamn it.
She stiffens in my arms and stops struggling.
“Keep quiet,” I order, pulling her head against my shoulder so she can’t see my face. I step outside, and, keeping Madelyn tugged tightly against my chest, I turn to face the room. If the scumbags have decided to wait around for the other man, she won’t be hit by gunfire. Angling my head, I search the parking lot. As expected, the first sedan—with Kylie as hostage inside it—is gone.
Hayden’s going to flip when I call in.
Despite my concerns, I calmly head toward my pickup until it’s clear the danger has passed. I toss her duffel bag into the truck bed, open her door, and dump her onto the seat. Locking the door for the short time it takes for me stalk around the hood, I unlock it again and climb into the driver’s seat.
Minutes later, Shelby is a distant image in my rearview mirror. Madelyn is curled up in her spot and looking out her window. Worrying about Kylie, what else is new? I want to warn her, Think about yourself. Doesn’t she get how her life is hanging by a thread? Mine, as well.
I shake my head. Then calm myself for the call I’m about to make.
“Don’t even breathe,” I warn her, then dial Hayden.
“Declan. Report.”
“In progress,” I say, vaguely.
“In progress but not completed?” The other end is silent and I brace myself for the worst.
I clench the steering wheel tighter, feeling Madelyn’s eyes on me.
“You growing soft? Do I call Diego back to Oklahoma?” he demands. Impatient and enraged. Like I’ve defied him—which is exactly what I’ve done by prolonging this assignment.
“She had company.”
“Franco?”
“And friends. She killed one of them. Three others knocked her silly then took her.”
“Four men?”
“Five. I terminated the last one.”
Madelyn gasps. I glare at her, silencing her.
Hayden quietly listens on the other end.
“Orders?”
There’s another long pause—typical—before he responds. “Find her. Question the men about Novák’s whereabouts, then terminate them and bring her to me. I’m away on business but will be back by the end of the week. Report in then. Clear?”
“Crystal.”
“And the sister?”
Fuck me. No way he’d heard her. Yet my head’s swimming. It begins with a low ringing sound, like the hum of a swarm of hornets off in the distance. Slowly growing in volume, causing my mind to grow numb. Cold. Like those same freaking hornets decided to simultaneously sting me, injecting enough poison to dull my senses. A form of self-defense, self-preservation.
“Answer me. The sister?”
He’ll use her to manipulate you. Just like he’d used Kylie to manage Jaxson. He doesn’t know shit.