Running Blind

by Gwen Hernandez

  “No more talking,” their guard said, “or I will gag you.”

  “Christophe.”

  He scowled at Caitlyn and approached her chair. “What?”

  “What are we doing here? What are we waiting for?”

  Was she trying to get him to kill her?

  Christophe glared at her for a moment, and then said, “We are waiting for Mr. Lambert. He has been looking for you, and he will decide how to clean up this mess.”

  “How long?”

  Christophe’s eyes narrowed and he shrugged. “It could be minutes or hours.”

  So much for helpful information, but she had been smart to try.

  “Can we get some water?” she asked.

  “No.” He sat in his chair near the door and glowered. “No more talking.”

  For the first few minutes, he kept a close eye on them, but eventually he pulled out his cell phone and began thumbing the screen. Caitlyn and her sister stared at each other. Their similarities ended with hair color and freckles. Caitlyn had a tall, athletic physique, while Rose was short and curvy. Both were beautiful in their own way. Both were willing to risk their lives to save others.

  Both deserved to make it out of here alive.

  Some unreadable expression passed between the sisters, and Caitlyn surreptitiously focused her attention on Christophe, appearing to stare at the floor while periodically glancing up through her lashes at the guard.

  The bored sentry occasionally scanned the room, as if to ensure they hadn’t moved, but he seemed unconcerned given that their hands were bound and tied to their seats. Rose rocked in her chair, and Caitlyn coughed several times, drawing the guard’s gaze. Clamping her mouth shut, she tucked her chin to her chest as if trying to muffle the sound.

  Christophe’s attention returned to his phone.

  Caitlyn glanced at Rose, who tipped her head the barest fraction and slowly blinked, flattening her lips in concentration. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw a silver flash from behind Rose’s back. A knife? He looked at Caitlyn. She held his gaze, her eyes intelligent and fierce, and gave him the barest hint of a smile.

  If he hadn’t been in love with her before, he was ass over teakettle now.

  Some time later—but still dark through the small gaps in the wooden walls—Caitlyn jolted awake at the sound of her sister’s cries of pain. Her heart played drum major against her sternum. “What’s the matter? What’s going on?”

  Rose didn’t look up, but thank God, she wasn’t under attack. Was this part of her plan? Caitlyn blinked to clear her head and glanced at Kurt, who appeared alert, his eyes tracking their captor.

  Christophe stood and stowed his phone, hands on his weapon, eyes wide and wary, his pace measured as he approached Rose. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Rose’s upper body curled in, like she would double over if she weren’t tied to the chair. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice a taut and screechy mimic of a poorly played violin. “My stomach.” Air hissed through her teeth. “I think it might be the baby.”

  Caitlyn pulsed with shock like a struck gong.

  “Baby?” Christophe frowned and took a step back, examining her as if he could diagnose her with his eyes. “You’re pregnant?”

  Caitlyn ignored Kurt’s palpable gaze, her heart rate redlining, her mind hijacked by memories.

  Abdominal pain that brought her to her knees. Blood staining her thighs and dripping onto the cracked tile. The fear on Kurt’s face when he found her…

  So weak. So helpless.

  Goddammit. She didn’t have time to get sucked into her past now.

  This isn’t real. It’s part of Rose’s plan. It had to be. The alternative… No. Whatever was going on, she had to stay ready.

  “It’s Glenn’s,” Rose said, through a whimper, her voice weak and thready. “We were…lovers.”

  Rose’s words were like buckshot to the chest. Lovers like hell. Either he’d forced himself on her, or she’d been desperate enough to try to seduce him. Right now, Caitlyn would gladly kill him again.

  Christophe sneered and looked her up and down. “He had many.”

  Rose’s face pinched. “I know. But I loved him.”

  “It’s your lucky day, then.” Christophe’s lips curved into a nasty grin. “You can face his killer.”

  “You?” she asked him, the words thick with disgust as if he were covered in dog shit.

  “No, your sister.” He stepped back and waved toward Caitlyn.

  She would take Rose’s look—the trembling O of her mouth, her crumpled brow and accusing brown eyes, the gray cast of her cheeks—to her grave.

  “Caitlyn…?” She sounded like a little girl whose illusions about the world had been shattered. “You killed him?” Rose erupted into tears. “How could you?”

  Christophe laughed and leaned over, getting right in Rose’s face. “Nice try, bouzin. You could have been an actress. But if you loved Glenn, you wouldn’t have tried to run.”

  With a fierce cry, Rose swung her arm around and plunged the small knife that Caitlyn had slipped to her into the side of Christophe’s neck.

  Holy shit.

  “Aaggh!” He made a strangled sound and grasped at the wound, blood spurting onto Rose, the concrete floor, his clothing.

  So much blood. Just like Glenn. Nausea climbed into Caitlyn’s throat.

  Rose scrambled to her feet and turned away from Christophe as he went limp. Using the roughhewn wooden wall to hold herself steady, she bent at the waist and vomited. She sobbed and heaved and coughed.

  “It’s okay,” Caitlyn said, her own stomach roiling. To her knowledge, Rose had never even held a weapon, let alone hurt anyone. Caitlyn would have given everything to trade places with her in that moment. To spare her sister that act. “You had to.”

  Rose wiped her mouth on her loose shirt. “I know.” Squaring her shoulders on a fortifying breath, she rushed to Kurt’s corner as if she hadn’t just killed a man and lost her lunch.

  She was a goddamned Amazon.

  Rose cut his bindings and handed him the knife with trembling hands, sinking to her knees as he freed Caitlyn.

  “Are you okay?” Caitlyn asked, rushing to drop to the ground beside her, only several yards from where Christophe lay silent and motionless. She couldn’t think about him. Her sister and Kurt were the only ones who mattered now.

  Rose scooted back, putting at least a foot of space between her and Caitlyn. “I don’t know.” She looked up with watery eyes. “I can’t regret that.” Her shaky hand waved at the dead man. “I couldn’t think of another way, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be okay with it.”

  “I understand.” More than she wanted. “I’m sorry.” Caitlyn pressed the heel of her palm against her thigh. Was there anything she could say to make this better? No. “But you were brilliant.”

  Rose took a deep, shuddering breath and clasped her hands in her lap. “Did you really kill Glenn?”

  The door swung open and the other guard stuck his head in. “What’s going—”

  Kurt crossed the floor in two strides and punched the man square on the chin. Baldy hit the floor, out cold. With Caitlyn’s knife, Kurt cut a piece of rope from the coil that their captors had used to bind them, and secured the man’s hands and feet.

  He grabbed the AK and nine mil, slinging the rifle over his shoulder, and then approached Christophe, circling around him from behind. He crouched low and felt for a pulse. Catching her eye, he shook his head.

  “Let’s go.” He rose, took the .45 from the dead man’s thigh holster, and handed it to Caitlyn.

  She made sure it was loaded and the safety was off, and then held out a hand to Rose as she stood. “Our car is just down the road. Do you think you can you make it?”

  Rose took her hand and they followed Kurt as he opened the door and then waved them through after he’d determined the coast was clear.

  Skirting around the main building, they stuck to the shadows as much as possible, R
ose sandwiched between Caitlyn and Kurt. At the beginning of the long, curving driveway, they hid behind a low wall to study the two guards stationed at the entrance to the resort.

  “Did you really kill Glenn?” Rose whispered.

  “Yes.” Caitlyn’s stomach clenched. Stupid. Now was not the time for weakness. “He came at me with a knife, so I shot him with his own gun. Long story.”

  A tear slipped down Rose’s cheek, the trail glimmering in the lights positioned at the front gate. “Good,” she said, her expression hard as granite. Her hand slipped down to her belly.

  Oh, no. God, no. “You’re actually pregnant?” Caitlyn’s mouth tasted like dirt. It hadn’t been another lie in Rose’s ploy to get free.

  “Yes.” Rose bit her lip. “From the first week, he…” She looked away.

  Damn Glenn to hell. Keeping an eye on the resort behind them for threats, Caitlyn pulled her sister into a hug, something she hadn’t done in years. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She backed away and held Rose’s shoulders. “We’ll get you through this. I will support you no matter what you want to do, no matter what you need.

  Rose nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s go,” Kurt said softly.

  Caitlyn returned her attention to the guards. Both now faced the road, one of them talking into a radio while the other stood at attention.

  Moving as quickly as possible in the dim light, Kurt led her and Rose along the path they’d used to enter the resort hours earlier. They approached the Land Rover and piled inside and buckled in, and the car started without incident. Nothing moved in the dark night but the jungle vegetation fluttering in the breeze. Caitlyn’s spirits rose. They might just make it after all.

  A quarter mile down the street, she rounded a bend and slammed on her brakes. Three large, black SUVs spanned the road from jungle edge to edge, completely blocking her exit. She threw the Land Rover into reverse. A bullet splintered the windshield. She screamed and stomped the gas pedal.

  The car lurched backward as she spun the wheel to perform a nausea-inducing about face.

  “Go!” Kurt shouted.

  She slammed the car into Drive and the wheels spun with a screech before catching purchase. They catapulted forward. Right into the front of a black sedan. A sickening crunch stopped them cold as Rose cried out.

  No. They’d been so close. She glanced at Kurt and then at Rose. “Everyone okay?”

  “Yes,” Kurt and Rose said in unison.

  “What about you?” her sister asked.

  “Pissed but uninjured.” She was pretty sure. The buzzing in her ears would go away eventually.

  Two men stumbled from the sedan and aimed their rifles at the Land Rover. More men rushed the sides of the vehicle and tried to open the doors, but they were locked. The only thing she’d get out of pulling the gun she’d stolen was a bullet in the head.

  “Open the doors,” one of the guards called through the window, pointing his gun at her head.

  “Too bad Brandon didn’t spring for the bulletproof glass.”

  “Yeah,” Kurt said, popping the door locks from his side.

  Caitlyn watched helplessly as he and Rose were ordered to unlatch their belts and then tugged from the car.

  The guard did the same to her, then aimed his weapon at her chest. “You will die for the men you’ve killed.” His quiet voice vibrated with hostility.

  Caitlyn’s stomach turned to lead. She’d failed Rose. And Kurt.

  “Stand down.” A familiar voice called as a man strode into view, his icy blue eyes scanning the scene, lit by multiple car headlights.

  Caitlyn gasped, body-slammed by the shock.

  Glenn Lambert was alive.

  CHAPTER 14

  SHE’D FINALLY LOST her mind. Caitlyn blinked several times to clear her vision.

  It didn’t work.

  Glenn still stood in front of her, casually dressed in a linen button-up shirt and chinos, maybe a little pale, a slight hunch to his shoulders, but absolutely not dead.

  What. The. Fuck? She’d killed him. She’d even warmed somewhat to her role as executioner.

  He gave her a greasy smile. “Rumors of my demise were greatly exaggerated.” Cocking his head to one side, he said, “Fortunately, I can’t say the same for my father.”

  Her body turned numb. “You finally did it.”

  “Not me.” He shrugged. “Semantics. It is done. With enough money, you can fake your death and buy someone else’s.” His grin widened. “It’s good to be rich.”

  Dread did a spider-crawl down her spine. Treavor Lambert had been a criminal in the service of his greed. A professional, despite his despicable business. Glenn was a different kind of evil. Volatile and cruel.

  He turned his attention to Rose, who stood next to Kurt, the blood on her shirt a stark contrast against the white fabric. “It seems your sister isn’t the only one with a penchant for killing. I hope you both enjoy dying too.”

  Rose turned sallow, even as she thrust out her chin and pursed her lips defiantly. If Glenn’s reappearance was hard for Caitlyn, it had to be infinitely more so for Rose, who’d suffered directly at the man’s hands.

  Any lingering regret Caitlyn had harbored for killing the man vanished.

  She’d never wished to be dreaming more than at this moment. The slimy bastard with expensive loafers and a small army now threatened the two people she cared for most in the world, and there wasn’t a goddamned thing she could do about it.

  Her stomach clamped down tight. There had to be some way out of this, something she could do to save Rose and Kurt. Something she could do to end Glenn and his awful enterprise.

  Caitlyn couldn’t let him win. He couldn’t fucking win.

  Her mind raced. Could she attack the man behind her, start a diversion? If she rammed Glenn, could she take him out before his men shot her? Maybe— Shit. Everything she came up with only got her killed without saving anyone.

  Think, Cait.

  A man with light brown skin and a glistening ponytail marched up to Glenn.

  The Lambert heir nodded to Ponytail. “Alvaro, tie their hands. And make sure they’re checked thoroughly for weapons this time.” His gaze flicked toward Caitlyn. “When you’re done, bring them to the promontory.”

  Promontory was too strong a word for the brief rise in land at the tip of the peninsula on which the resort was built. That did nothing to ease the leaden feeling in Kurt’s stomach as one of Lambert’s guards pushed him, Caitlyn, and Rose through the trees and into a clearing that led to the edge of a sixty-foot cliff.

  Glenn had left them stewing for hours—each facing a different wall and forbidden to talk—while he did God knows what, but the light was still too dim to make out the landscape. Kurt could only hear the waves hurling themselves at the rock walls below.

  There had to be some way to get them out of this. He’d been a PJ, for God’s sake. He wasn’t afraid of leaping into the abyss, and he was a top-notch swimmer, with or without his hands bound. They’d fucking practiced that in training.

  But even at his peak, he wouldn’t have been able to defeat all these armed men with his hands tied behind his back.

  Man of Steele, my ass.

  Not only would attempting an escape be suicide—he could die with that—but he’d likely get Caitlyn and her sister killed for his efforts.

  That he couldn’t abide.

  Ten yards from the drop-off, Glenn ordered them to stop. He stood before Caitlyn, glowering down his imperious nose at her. “You tried to kill me.”

  She met his gaze, her chin lifted, glorious in defiance as the stiff breeze stripped her hair from its ponytail and swirled the cloud of dark copper around her head. “In self-defense.”

  “You took advantage of my father’s generosity to try to ruin my family.”

  “I saved his life. You’re the one who murdered him.” Her hands clenched behind her back, but she gave no other outward sign of emotion. She was beautiful, incredible. As brave as he
r old nickname suggested.

  Kurt’s heart cracked open.

  Glenn sneered, his face twisted and cruel in the faint glow of sunrise that filtered through the nearby trees. “He had too many rules. You should have let him die. Then all of this could have been avoided.”

  “No,” she said, deathly calm. “I should have done a better job of killing you.”

  He slapped her.

  Kurt jerked against his captors and growled. The men holding his arms stumbled, but held tight. If he were free, he’d kill Glenn with his bare hands.

  Red welts rose on Caitlyn’s left cheekbone. The fucker had hit her hard.

  Glenn gripped her chin and she flinched. They locked gazes.

  Birds chirped. Palm trees rustled. Waves crashed. Men sighed and shifted their weapons. Kurt invented a dozen never-before-imagined ways of killing a man.

  “I will make you suffer before you die.” Glenn’s horrible smile would have given the Devil pause. He released her face with a push and placed his hands on his hips as he faced Kurt and Rose. “Which one do you love more?” he asked, with a grand sweep of his arm in their direction.

  Caitlyn tensed and looked at them both in turn.

  “That’s right.” Glenn waved a hand in their direction. “You choose who lives.”

  Her head whipped back to him, eyes wide. “What?”

  He gave her an insolent shrug. “You heard me.”

  Kurt’s veins throbbed with urgency.

  At Glenn’s nod, the guards ushered Kurt and Rose toward the cliff, staging them dangerously close to the edge about twenty feet apart, on either side of a buttress of crumbled boulders that churned the deep blue waters far below. Prodded by rifles, they turned their backs to the ocean to face their executioner.

  “No!” Caitlyn fought against the men who held her arms, kicking out at Glenn’s legs.

  “Enough!” He put his index finger right in her face, a vein in his forehead threatening to pop. “You will choose, or I’ll have my men shoot all three of you, right now.”