by Fiona Archer
Seth’s face resembled an iron mask. “Why are you doing this, Dillon?”
Dillon’s tone changed from conversational to resentful. “Everything changed the moment Adam pulled me out of the water.”
“The rescue?” Seth asked in a cautious voice.
The muzzle was pushed harder against her scalp. “Rescue? Of course, you’d see the results of a freak wave as a celebration for the Aussie street thugs.”
Harper fought to ignore the pain of the pistol jammed against her head. She wouldn’t think about him firing, what it would feel like. God, he really was twisted. Wasn’t saving his own life something to be grateful for?
Seth frowned. “Dillon, Adam saved your life. Anybody would do the same. It was a good thing.”
“You’re in a car. Where’s Adam and the others?”
“Heath’s here with me. We were heading to the café.”
“And there you go, breaking another rule.”
Harper stiffened in fear a second before Dillon slapped her lower cheek and mouth, hard enough she tasted blood. Her faint whimper yielded a chuckle from her tormentor.
“Dillon,” Seth’s agonized voice filtered through the laptop.
The bastard grabbed her jaw in his free hand, cruelly digging his fingers into her flesh and pressing her mouth against her teeth. She blinked through the tears blinding her. “The rule is all four of you must be together. Ensure they are there for the next round—if there is one.”
“Dillon, don’t do this. Put me in the fucking chair.”
“Ah, but that’s the whole point, Seth. This is about you having to sit helpless and watch as you lose everything that matters.”
Harper stared at the screen, drinking up Seth’s image. If this was the last moment she had, she had to be honest, make it count. Be as brave and honest as Sienna told her she was last night. Say what she’d been feeling since Heath’s barbecue.
“And we fire in three, two—”
“Dillon, you fucking bastard!” Seth screamed, but his gaze was riveted on Harper.
“I love you Seth,” Harper cried.
The sound of the hammer clicking on the empty chamber echoed like a crack of thunder in the cavernous warehouse.
Harper sank into the chair as all strength drained from her body.
Seth dragged in a shuddering breath as the sunlight through the car’s window highlighted his ashen complexion.
“I’m assuming you’re tracing this FaceTime. In the interests of full disclosure, I should tell you the same hacker I hired to cover the first three posts is scrambling my location. By the time you figure out where I am, our game will have been concluded,” Dillon said in a toneless voice. “You have fifteen minutes until the next call.” He clicked a remote, and the screen went blank.
Harper drew in a shuddering breath. She had to talk Dillon down from the emotional ledge he was standing on. If she didn’t, he’d put that revolver to her head again and fire.
“Dillon,” she licked her lips, ignoring the metallic taste of blood. “You could just leave. Now. Before the guys find you.”
“How are they going to find me, Harper?” Dillon chuckled and stepped a few feet away from her. The punishing pressure on her scalp disappeared as he cradled the revolver in his hands. “I just told Seth he can’t trace where I am.”
“But he can.” Time to bullshit. And make it believable. “Heath told me at my apartment that he’d just found some super hacker, a guy who could crack anything. A Russian.” Weren’t they supposed to be awesome at this shit? Christ, she had no freaking idea. “Said he was setting this Russian on the imposter’s trail. Today.”
Dillon’s eyes widened a fraction before narrowing.
She held his gaze and forced herself to keep her breathing even. “He seemed pretty confident. Told me once he had the proof he needed, he’d be back to arrest me.”
Again, he chuckled. “Do you think I’m scared to face them?”
“No,” she rushed out. Yes, totally. Face down the Justice brothers en masse? Who wouldn’t be? But she wasn’t stupid enough to insult a man when he held a gun on her. “But if you leave now, you’d get away.”
“Ah, see...” Dillon shook his head. “That’s where you have things wrong. Those Aussies aren’t nearly as smart as you think, Harper.”
Keep him talking. As long as he was occupied he wasn’t holding a gun to her head.
“What do you mean?”
“They didn’t work out I was behind everything.” He leaned forward. “I had to tell them by leaving a note on your journal.”
Her mouth dropped. “My journal? You stole it?”
“That was the purpose behind the break-in. But the idiot I hired fucked up, didn’t disable the alarm on the door camera like I told him how, so I had to go in and do the job myself. You and Heath were in your living room, and I was being the considerate guy, packing more stuff for you, and grabbed what I wanted. Nobody noticed the second small bag I kept in my car.”
Good God. He’d searched through her belongings, and at a time she’d felt most vulnerable and trusted him to protect her. She clenched her hands in her lap, clinking the small chain on the metal handcuffs.
Evil bastard.
“I read your sweet ramblings, found the cookie entry, and knew I had what I needed to use against you.” He shrugged. So matter of fact. “From there, I hired an actress to impersonate you, told her it was some indie project on the dangers of social media. You were taken down with minimal effort.”
“Why did you do this?” she cried.
“Because you mattered to Seth, Harper. More than even he realized.”
And he wanted to hurt Seth. As much as possible.
“But Dillon, you’ve already won. You outsmarted them, the four of them.” She nodded as he straightened at her words. “That’s right. Nobody else had ever bested them like that. Now’s the time to go, get away, and you’ll be the guy they can’t catch.” Desperate, she searched for the right words. “Think about this. Take the chance now. You’re not a killer, Dillon.” She desperately hoped that was true.
Dillon allowed himself a small smile. “You know, it wasn’t easy finding the right actress to play you. As soon as I saw her in the flesh, I knew she was the one. Didn’t bother looking at the portfolio she brought with her.” He walked over to a heavy canvas tarp covering a large pile against the wall. “And now I’ve given her the perfect head shot.” With a flourish, he pulled back the tarp, revealing three bodies. At the front and facing Harper was the woman from the video.
Harper gasped at the woman’s lifeless eyes that seemed to stare back at her. A neat, dark hole marred the poor woman’s forehead.
“Sweet Jesus,” Harper whispered, as Dillon dragged the woman’s body by one arm a few feet to reveal a man behind her. Harper recognized his clothing. The same as worn by her intruder. “My God.”
“No loose ends. I put a lot of planning into making this project a reality. I won’t allow an ex-con to bring me down by bragging about how he made a quick grand.” He turned the male’s body over, revealing a red bloom over his chest. “I arranged for both of them to meet me here at different times, and then I formally terminated our association.”
Such clinical language. To Dillon, killing these people was simply running a line through on a checklist.
The third body was still partially hidden. Only a pair of female legs stuck out from under the tarp. Dillon gestured toward the body. “Shame about Joanne.” He ignored Harper’s cry and kept talking. “I decided it was tidier all-around if she and I ended things in a more permanent fashion.”
The sweet blonde with the warm smile. She’d said hello to Harper. Had stood before her, alive, happy for the chance to get to know Dillon better.
Harper couldn’t slow down her racing heartbeat.
He’d killed. Three times.
A coldness seeped into her, threatening to take away her last shreds of hope.
But you’re still alive. She couldn’t giv
e in. Hadn’t she just yelled out her love for Seth? A bittersweet joy swept away the coldness. If that was the last time… She swallowed down the heartache. No, she couldn’t let that be her ending. She wanted more time with Seth. And she’d fight to get that chance. The memory of the desperation in Seth’s face seconds before Dillon had pulled the trigger would haunt her forever. For now, it served as a motivator.
Seth would want her to stay strong. Be smart. Keep herself alive long enough for someone to find her or work out a way to save herself.
Harper clenched her hands, her fingers gathering up the material of her cotton apron. Her apron! A quick feel determined Dillon must have taken her phone, but there was something long and thin…Her Stylo sharpie pen.
If she was MacGyver she’d find a Q-tip and a spare empty envelope and make a plane out of the three items, but she wasn’t. Nor was she stupid enough to attempt wrestling with a man when she was handcuffed and strapped to a chair. Even if she tried to stab him in the thigh with the Sharpie, there’s no way he’d be totally incapacitated. And that was too big a risk when he had the gun.
But the discovery strengthened her determination. Now wasn’t the time to give up.
****
Heath slammed on his SUV’s brakes and stopped behind Lincoln’s sedan rental, which was parked half a block from their target. Adam followed in behind Heath, then the two FBI Aents, McNally and Randall. A SWAT team was en route. Seth glanced at his watch. No fucking way the team would make it in time for the next deadline, which was in less than ten minutes. Heath had been forced to turn off his car’s police siren during the FaceTime session so as not to alert Dillon, but by some miracle they still made up time after the call.
Lincoln gripped his arm. “Adam called and updated me. You okay?”
Seth nodded, riding on adrenaline. All that mattered right now was Harper and getting her out safe.
The men joined their huddle. Adam dropped a bulging duffle bag at his feet and looked at Lincoln. “Tell us what you know.”
“The block appears to be vacant warehouses. No traffic in or out. Our target is made of two buildings. Both cement block. One has a rollerdoor and loud music playing. The other building has two separate entrances. One metal, the other wood. There’s a section at one end of that building that has metal sheeting over two windows. There’s a couple of holes, big enough for a glimpse inside. I clocked Harper and Dillon.”
Heath spoke first. “Right. I’m assuming control until SWAT arrives.”
“You checked this with your Captain?” Randall straightened, his ill-fitting sports coat opening wide across his slight beer gut.
“Yeah.” Heath answered.
What had actually transpired was a heated phone call with a fair amount of shouting and Heath’s captain telling him to act only if life was in imminent danger.
That worked for Seth.
“Adam, you got some emergency supplies in your duffle?”
“Flashbangs. Grenades. Goggles. Two Glocks. Two Sigs. Plus other items.”
The two detectives chose to stay silent but shared a look.
“Excellent.” Heath faced Seth. “You still handy? Been a few months since we last practiced at the range.”
“No problem.” It had been nine months actually, but Seth had always been a good shot. All the brothers were. Unfortunately, that included Dillon.
“Adam, outfit the men.”
McNally grabbed Heath’s arm. “That’s not protocol.”
Heath stared at the man’s hand then up at his face. Immediately, the FBI Agent stepped back.
Even as Adam slapped a Sig Sauer into his hand, Zach spoke for the first time. “We’re not a follow-protocol kind of family.”
No truer words.
Seth checked the Sig Sauer Adam handed over, along with a spare clip.
Heath addressed Adam once more. “You and Lincoln get down to that window and tell me the lay of the land. If you can’t get eyes on Dillon we stand down until SWAT arrives.”
So Dillon could terrify Harper some more? “Now wait—”
Adam cut him off. “Seth, we don’t go in guns blazing with no plan. That’s a sure way for Harper to get killed.”
Seth cursed to himself. Idiot. “You’re right.”
Adam grabbed his duffle bag before he and Lincoln ran toward the building and disappeared around the corner.
Two patrol cars turned up, and Heath ordered McNally to get them to block off traffic along the surrounding streets and coordinate with the paramedics he’d called to have on scene.
Heath’s phone vibrated. He put the phone on speaker. “What have you got for me?”
“Front-on view of Harper and Dillon,” Adam recounted. “She’s restrained in the chair. He’s moving around close to her. There’s three bodies on the left. Two female. One male.”
Dillon had killed already. He wouldn’t hesitate to do so again. “We need to get Harper out of there now.” He got right up close to his cop brother’s face.
Heath bit out a curse. He turned to Randall. “Chase up the ETA for SWAT.”
Heath’s phone beeped with a new photo. He opened it up to reveal a hand drawn plan of the inside of the room.
“Map showing basic layout,” Adam’s voice came through on the speaker as he outlined a plan to subdue Dillon and rescue Harper.
“SWAT’s ten minutes out.”
“That’s over Dillon’s deadline.” Seth braced for an argument. “He’ll be holding a gun to her head and there’s a one in five chance she’ll get a bullet ripping apart her brains.”
Graphic, yes, but that’s what was at stake.
Seth’s phone beeped. Dillon. “He’s sent a message.”
Changed my mind. You had five minutes left. Now it’s two.
“Dillon’s forced our hand.” Seth held the phone out to Heath. “We go now.”
His brother drew his weapon from his ankle holster as Zach updated Adam. “Then we do this right.”
A few seconds later, Seth and Zach took their positions behind Heath as Adam placed charges on the metal door.
Then everything happened at once.
Lincoln smashed a hole in the window and tossed in two flashbangs. The small charges near the locks on the metal doors detonated, blowing the lock. Adam kicked the door in and he and Heath charged inside.
“Police! Drop your weapon,” Heath yelled.
Seth and Zach dived into the room.
His gut twisted at the sight of Dillon standing next to Harper and holding a Glock under her chin. Her eyes, wild with fear, pleaded with him for help. The revolver was on the floor a good ten feet from Dillon. To the left lay the lifeless bodies.
“Drop your weapon, Dillon,” Heath ordered in an iron hard command.
“I don’t think so, little brother.” Dillon shoved the muzzle harder against the soft skin under Harper’s chin.
She clenched her mouth tightly closed, but her smothered cry was heard by all in the room.
Seth beat down the fury raging through him enough to bite out, “Dillon, it’s over. There’s six of us and one of you.”
“But it only takes one bullet, Seth, for me to win.” The man he’d called brother for the last thirteen years blinked through his watery eyes and laughed.
Dillon’s gaze seemed unfocused. The flashbangs had worked in part, but he must have been turned the other way and missed the full force. Either way, his grip on the Glock was locked firm.
“Dillon, you wanted us here, so tell us, why?” Adam’s tone of voice was calm, almost coaxing, despite the fact his weapon was still drawn on Dillon. “This isn’t you, man. Not the brother we know. Aurora would want us to talk it out.”
“Don’t tell me what she’d want. You of all people don’t get to tell me what she’d want.” Dillon yelled at Adam, his free hand waving about, while the Glock stayed shoved under Harper’s chin. “The big bad Aussie. Leader of the goddamn pack. But I was the oldest. The one who should have been in charge. Not you.”
&nbs
p; Sweet Jesus. Dillon’s revenge all started from jealousy? Seth stared at the man he’d considered a brother, someone he’d loved and admired for years. And all that time, Dillon’s hatred had festered inside of him like a cancer.
“Dillon,” Zach said gently. “Don’t make it this way. We’re family.”
“No.” Dillon shook his head with short, jerky movements. “We’re not family. Never were.”
“Okay,” Zach stood, feet apart, his gun gripped loosely in both hands. “But I’ve got to know, man. You’ve hit each of us except me. Why?”
Dillon’s upper lip uncurled. Seth watched stunned as the man’s expression gentled. “Hurting you would hurt Milly. I could never do that. I love her.” His tone sounded pleading, as if begging for understanding.
What the hell? Here was a man who had murdered three people, but spared one of his brothers because of his love for his niece.
But Dillon wasn’t finished as he continued to address Zach. “You’re a father. A child should never lose their parent. Not like I did. Mom was mine first. You all stole her.”
“When did we steal her, Dillon?” Heath stepped to the left as Adam moved in the opposite direction to open up a space between them.
“The day that fucker pulled me from the water,” Dillon flicked his chin toward Adam contemptuously. “She thought you were all so wonderful. Saved her son. Then she gave you our name. Our name.” He yelled the last two words.
His name. Seth remembered the ‘attack’ post on Dillon. The bitter, crazed man in front of him had authored that post. How personal were his words? “But it’s not really your name is it, Dillon? You were born a bastard. No dad to give you his name. And even with the Justice surname, nothing changed the fact you were illegitimate.”
“Don’t say that.” Dillon shuffled on his feet. The tip of the gun lowered an inch.
Harper’s gaze dipped. She could feel the loss of pressure. That’s it. Stay alert, baby. She glanced back up at Seth. Her caramel-colored gaze, although still showing her fear, had sharpened.
Seth kept on.
“But it’s true. Because of you, Aurora could never fully claim her place in society. You sullied her.”