by Kaylea Cross
They waited behind a stack of shipping containers on the dock as the crew deployed the gangway. Moments later, the first of the women appeared through a hatch on deck, blinking and shielding their eyes with their hands, armed guards overseeing the unloading.
Heath stole a glance at Chloe. Her jaw was set, her mouth a bloodless line as she stared at them with laser-like focus. A powder keg about to blow.
A sharp cry made him whip his head around. One of the guards had struck a woman. She was on her knees, holding the side of her face and cowering as he stood over her. He drew his weapon and pointed it at her head.
Shiiiiit.
“Motherfucker,” Chloe snarled, and burst to her feet, firing two shots before Heath could stop her. The guard dropped, a stunned look on his face as he clutched at his chest.
Goddammit. Heath pulled in a hard breath and surged to his feet to follow her.
Chaos erupted. Men shouted, swarming the women, who screamed and ran back toward the hatch they’d come out of. “Take out the guards,” Chloe said over the noise, and Heath had no choice but to cover her ass as she popped out from behind cover to fire at another one. “We have to get the women out before they start killing them.”
More shots came from the other direction, dropping two more guards. Ty and Megan, or maybe Jesse.
There were three more guards on deck, all armed with rifles, now returning fire. Heath fired his own weapon as they rushed for the end of the gangway, dropping a guy at the top of it. Chloe surged past him, racing up it toward the deck. Another guard appeared, the barrel of his rifle pointed right at Chloe.
Heath’s heart stopped. He aimed to fire but Chloe let loose with two shots, nailing the bastard in the chest.
Right behind her as they reached the deck, they swiveled around, searching for more shooters. “We clear, Jesse?” he asked, his heart rate elevated.
“For now, but I had eyes on three more before they disappeared through the hatch.”
Chloe stalked toward it, pistol up. “Going below to secure the women.”
She darted to the side, angled her body just as the hatch flew open. She hit the guard with a solid roundhouse to the diaphragm, doubling him over as he pulled the trigger. Shots ripped past Heath, making him dive to the deck. Another man burst through the opening. Heath raised his rifle and fired just as the first man sprayed another hail of bullets in a wide semi-circle.
Chloe jerked partway around, a grimace of pain flitting across her face as she grabbed her left hip and fell.
Chloe! Heath fired at a man who popped around the far corner, and raced for her.
PAIN SEARED THROUGH Chloe’s left hip and upper arm as she rolled, narrowly avoiding more bullets as they slammed into the deck where she’d just been.
Gritting her teeth, she jackknifed upright to fire. She hit the shooter in the chest with both shots. He went down even as she rolled onto her right side and got to her feet. Damage wasn’t too bad because she could still move her arm and leg.
Heath was racing toward her. Another guard darted out behind him. She wheeled to the side and fired past Heath, striking the man center mass.
“I’ve got you covered at the bow,” Jesse said in Chloe’s earpiece. “Get down the gangway.”
“Negative. I’m not leaving without the women,” Chloe responded. She waved Heath off but he kept coming. “I’m fine,” she insisted, keeping her weight off her left foot as she swiveled to scan for more threats. “Anybody got a view of the crew in the bridge?”
“Got all three in cuffs,” Megan replied. “They’re saying two more men are down in the hold.”
“Roger that. Heading there now.” Heath gave her an are-you-shitting-me look she completely ignored, and started for the door that would lead them below deck, confident that he’d follow.
“Chloe.”
“I’m fine. Let’s just do this,” she snapped, focused on the door, weapon in her right hand because she didn’t trust her left at the moment.
Heath blocked her, running a cursory gaze over her before sending her a hard look. “I’m taking point.”
His set expression warned her not to argue, and she wasn’t a hundred percent right now. The pain was getting worse, and an edge of shock had taken hold, her hands trembling slightly and her breathing uneven. She fought both, focusing on the mission: the women below. “Fine.”
She stayed on him like a shadow as he opened the door and swept the stairwell. “Clear,” he whispered, then started forward.
The crew had shut off the power, leaving the stairwell in darkness. She and Heath descended the stairs, the tac lights on their weapons lighting the way. Chloe clenched her jaw as she followed him, fire shooting through her hip with each step, her progress marked by a fine trail of blood spatters on the metal stairs. She slowed her breathing, forcing her body to counteract the lash of adrenaline flooding her system.
Heath paused at the bottom of the stairs near the closed hatch. She moved in to his left, keeping her weight on her right foot, grimaced as she raised her left hand to grip his shoulder. Go.
He went through the hatch, clearing the space as she came through after him. She barely caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eyes, then Heath fired. A grunt sounded, then the clatter of a weapon falling. Heath advanced toward the suspect while Chloe spun around, bit back a curse as her left leg threatened to give out, watching their other side.
“Ne tire pas,” a voice called out beyond Heath. Don’t shoot.
“Sortir,” Chloe ordered, still watching their backs. “Les mains en l’air.” Come out. Hands in the air.
“Got him,” Heath said. “Twenty yards ahead.”
“Clear behind us,” she answered, moving with him.
“Tell him to get on the ground and put his hands behind his head.”
“Monte sur le sol, et mets tes mains derrière la tête,” she snapped. Then to Heath, “Any sign of the women?”
“Not yet.” He quickly moved in on the prisoner, zip tying the man’s hands behind his back and checking him for weapons before straightening and pulling out a flashlight, giving them a decent amount of illumination. “Ask him if there’s anyone else down here.”
She asked him that, and where the women were. “Just him and the other guy. He says the women are on the other side of this bulkhead.” She nodded to their right.
“Watch him. I’ll check it out.”
Chloe divided her attention between the man on the floor and Heath as he checked the door for any sign of booby traps, then drew his weapon and entered the hatch.
A blast of hot, muggy air escaped, carrying the stench of human waste. Chloe held her breath, heart beating fast.
“They’re here,” Heath said.
Chloe limped over to peer inside the open doorway. Twenty-seven faces looked back at her, and the sight of them huddled on the floor in terror broke her heart. They sat frozen, too afraid to move, staring at her and Heath with wide eyes.
Forcing aside her anger, Chloe lowered her weapon and gave them a reassuring smile. “C'est bon. Vous êtes en sécurité maintenant.” It’s all right. You’re safe now.
She tapped her earpiece. “Hold secured, cargo accounted for.”
“Copy,” Megan replied. “We’re clear up here, and our cavalry’s just arrived on shore.”
About ten minutes too late, and now there was gonna be a lot of red tape and paperwork to deal with because their team wasn’t supposed to have been solely involved with taking down the ship. “Are they Rycroft’s?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not leaving until I know these women are safe,” Chloe replied.
“That’s what I told her you’d say. So she said to head to the RV point as soon as you can, while she and Rycroft deal with the aftermath.”
Perfect.
Bless him, Heath was already moving around the room, checking on the women. They cowered when he got close, until Chloe explained he was checking them for injuries. “See anything?” Chloe asked
, scanning the women. Christ, some of them couldn’t be more than fourteen.
“No visible serious injuries, but they all need fluids. It’s gotta be a hundred-and-ten in here, and that’s with the door open.” Anger vibrated in his voice and she decided she more than liked and admired him. She might even be falling for him.
The cops finally arrived. The head of the unit came down with Trinity to take over.
Heath walked over and stood in front of Chloe, those impossibly blue eyes burning with too many emotions to decipher. “You’re leaving now, whether willingly or over my shoulder. Which is it gonna be?”
She loved this take control side of him, and she was hurting enough to let the order slide. “How about option three, with my arm around your shoulders?”
He immediately stepped close, wrapped an arm around her waist while she reached up to lock hers across his broad shoulders. The pain and stiffness in her hip and arm were way worse now. A groan escaped her gritted teeth as they hit the stairs.
Without a word, Heath bent and scooped her up into his arms. She winced but didn’t fight. “I think it was just a ricochet,” she managed as he climbed toward the top deck.
“They still leave holes,” he growled.
Yes, they did. And they hurt more than she’d thought they would.
Megan and Ty were there with Jesse when they got topside. Megan’s gaze immediately zeroed in on the blood dripping from Chloe. She whipped around, waving for a cop near the bridge. “We need an ambulance.”
“No,” Chloe protested. “No hospital.” She looked up at the man who’d done the impossible by stealing her heart. “Heath’s got me.”
He nodded, eyes on hers, an unbreakable bond solidifying between them. “Yeah. I’ve got you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Definitely a ricochet,” Heath said as he checked the wound in Chloe’s hip and upper arm at the hotel minutes later, tamping down his anger. Because he was pissed. Pissed that she’d up and initiated the attack without prior knowledge and agreement by the team. Pissed that she’d been hit.
“They ruined my Valkyrie mark,” she complained, frowning down at the brand on her left hip. The bullet had gouged a path through the fleshy part of her hip, taking part of the mark with it. He still couldn’t believe someone had taken a fucking brand to her.
“Hold still,” he told her, pinching the edges of the wound shut so he could suture it. She’d refused to go to the hospital. He wasn’t a plastic surgeon, but his stitches were neat enough that it shouldn’t leave too bad a scar when it healed. The round had missed bone and nerve, though it had hit her glute minimus. “Can you still wiggle your fingers?”
She wiggled them. “Yeah.” Sighing, she laid back down on her side on the bed where he’d put towels beneath her to catch the drips.
She’d been lucky. A direct hit would have shattered her hip joint or pelvis and done internal damage. Then she would have had no choice but to go to the hospital—and she’d have been sidelined for months, maybe forever. “You’re gonna be sore for a while. And stiff. You won’t be able to operate like this.”
“I know.” She scowled at the far wall as he stitched.
And suddenly he couldn’t hold back any longer. “You could have gotten everyone on board that boat killed today. Including us and the women. You realize that, right?”
The scowl turned into a pout. “Can you save the lecture for later?”
Stubborn, impulsive, frustrating woman… He drew a breath, struggled for patience. “No. You need to acknowledge what you did, apologize for it, and swear you’ll never pull that shit again. And don’t just apologize to me. You owe it to the others, too.”
She turned her head to nail him with a look equal parts hurt and annoyed. “All right. I’m sorry. For everything you just said. I shouldn’t have gone off half-cocked like that, but I…” She sighed, winced as he hit a particularly painful spot. “I told you I’m not used to the whole team dynamic thing. And when that asshole pointed his weapon at the woman…” She laid her cheek on top of her folded hands. “But I’m sorry, and I’m glad you weren’t hurt. And I’ll tell the others that too.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Another sullen look. “And I won’t do it again.”
His anger faded. “Thank you.”
She eyed him hopefully. “So I’m forgiven?”
“Mostly.” It was hard to stay mad when she was lying there bleeding and looking sorry for herself. He kept stitching. “Now I’m mostly mad that you got hit.”
“At least the women are safe. And this’ll give me time to find Dubois and figure out the best way to get him.”
Heath was increasingly worried by her obsession with that, afraid she would get herself killed. “He’ll know you were involved today. You’ll be at even greater risk.”
“Not as much risk as he is,” she muttered darkly.
He shook his head. The woman made him crazy. “I want to hug and shake you at the same time.”
She looked up at him, giving him puppy dog eyes. “I could use a hug.”
He gave a grudging chuckle. “Hug after I stitch you up. Shake once you’re healing up.”
“Deal.” She went back to staring at the wall. “Wonder how it’s going with Trinity right now?”
“We left her one hell of a mess to clean up.”
“Megan said Rycroft will handle everything. I’m looking forward to meeting him one day.”
He put in the last two stitches, bandaged it, then checked the one on her arm. It was seeping, the back of the bandage nearly clean. “I’m going to put you in a sling to keep you from moving it.”
She made a face. “I don’t need a sling.”
He caught her chin and brought her eyes to his. “I know you’re tough. I know you’re badass and pretend not to feel pain like the rest of us mortals. But right now, I need you to do as you’re told and let me take care of you.”
Her eyes softened. “I am letting you.”
“Well, let me do more of it.”
She flopped down on the pillow with something between a sigh and a growl. “You’re spoiling me. If I was on my own, I’d have to just suck it up and deal.”
The image that conjured was too awful to contemplate. “Well, you’re not on your own now. And if anyone deserves some spoiling, it’s you.”
She looked up at him in surprise. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Planting a hand beside her head, he leaned down and fit his lips to hers in a soft, slow kiss.
She’d scared the shit out of him today. When he’d seen her get hit, he’d wanted to bellow in denial, his only thought to get to her. Protect her. Save her. Throw himself on top of her to shield her if necessary.
Her lips were soft and pliant under his, her restless energy subdued now. He stroked her hair and straightened. “You squeamish about needles?”
She stared at him a moment, thrown by the abrupt shift in topic, then snorted. “Please.”
Yeah, that’s what he’d thought.
He gave her a shot of antibiotics in her uninjured hip, then secured her left arm across her chest with a sling and kissed her once more. “No moving that until I say,” he warned.
“So bossy,” she said with a huff. He could tell the pain and fatigue were getting to her now. She was still and quiet, two things she rarely was.
“Damn right. And you’re going to take all three of these too.” He handed her the tablets and a bottle of water.
She looked up at him. “Can I have a—”
“No energy drinks. Just water.”
Pouting like a sulky child, she took the tablets and swallowed them with a sip of water. Then her phone beeped. “It’s Megan. She’s on her way up.”
Heath let her in a minute later. “How’s our patient?” she asked.
“Being as difficult as you’d imagine.”
“Hey,” Chloe protested with a frown. “I’m lying here being good, not moving my arm.” Then to Megan. “They ruined my Valkyr
ie mark.”
Megan stepped to the side of the bed and peeled the edge of the bandage back. “Bastards, they did too.” She tutted and covered it back up. “I’ll rebrand you later if you want.”
“Over my dead body,” Heath growled, horrified.
Both women looked over at him with startled expressions. “She was joking,” Chloe said.
“Joking,” Megan confirmed, clearly fighting a grin. “Her mark’s way more badass this way. More badass than mine. I’m kinda jealous.”
All these women were insane.
“Anything from Trinity?” Chloe asked.
“Oh yeah. She’s up to her eyeballs in bureaucratic tape and bullshit, but she’s handling it. Rycroft’s working on securing all video that might have captured us there. Basically, they’re in full damage control mode. They’re the best. By the time they’re done sanitizing everything, it’ll be like we were never there.”
“And the women?” Chloe asked.
“Were all checked out before being taken to temporary housing. Trinity supervised it personally, and two of Fleur’s colleagues were there to take over. They’re going to be fine.” She reached into her pocket. “Brought you something. I got it at the—”
Heath swiped the energy drink from her before she could hand it to Chloe. “Nuh-uh. That’s contraband.”
“Ugh, he’s just no fun at all,” Chloe complained, gazing at the can like a child denied a piece of cake at their own birthday party.
“Nope,” he agreed, not bothered in the least. “And now you’re gonna sleep until I wake you up.”
“I’m not tired,” she argued, but her lids were already drooping.
“Yes you are, and you’re gonna get more and more tired over the next five minutes.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What did you give me?”
“Something to take the pain away and make you sleep.”
Megan chuckled and came over to set her arm around his back. “Oh, I like this guy.”
Chloe sent him an annoyed look. “I like him too, dammit. But when I wake up, I want a meeting about Dubois.” Her voice was slightly slurred already, the meds kicking in. Couple more minutes, and she’d be out cold, not feeling any pain. “I’m ready to end this once and for all.”