“He needs help, now,” she whispered, grabbing Mark’s hand and squeezing it. Whatever anger she’d harbored against Dennis seemed to be ebbing away.
“We have to keep moving,” Mark answered loudly enough for the other two to hear. “They can’t be too far behind us.” He squeezed her hand back and pulled her along as he continued forward. Their shoes became a desperate rhythm as they hurried toward a stairwell that might or might not have been there.
The hallway forked and gave them the option to continue forward and turn right, doubling back, or turn left. Mark definitely didn’t want to double back. Hiding on the third floor was an entirely different ballgame from hiding in a dark, empty basement. Its lack of easy access was enough to put the bodyguard even more on edge. So Mark took the second option and peered around the corner to the left.
“Found the stairs,” he called back. The door marked Stairs was like a light at the end of a tunnel. “Let’s go!”
Finally, he thought, some good news.
“Mark,” Lynn shrieked.
The bodyguard spun around in time to see Dennis stumble sideways, eyes barely open. Mark moved backward to catch him under one arm while Lynn caught the other. He wasn’t fully unconscious, but his knees were buckling. The towel he’d been holding fell to the floor, a bloody mess. Kelli didn’t hesitate to pick it back up.
“Keep pressure on it,” she told Lynn. Lynn was about to do just that when the stairwell door banged open.
Craig’s chest heaved. Blood trickled down his face. Mark’s good news hadn’t lasted long at all.
Craig smirked.
It made something in Mark break.
“I see you still have my gun,” the man said with obvious disapproval. “Are you going to shoot me in cold blood in front of these fine young ladies? Or maybe you can use one of these doors instead?”
Mark’s hand twitched. The gun felt heavy in it.
Shooting Craig, no matter how badly he wanted to put the crazed man out of commission, wasn’t a good move. Not only did Mark want to save what ammo he had left for the unknown trek across the lobby, but also he didn’t want Kelli and Lynn to see him shoot the man. Plus, they still needed answers.
Mark hadn’t missed Kelli’s attempt to not look at the men he’d already hit upstairs.
No, he thought with determination, I can take him on my own.
“Kelli, take this and go hide,” he whispered to her. Surprised but perhaps on the same wavelength, she took the gun he held out. Mark dropped out from under Dennis’s arm. Kelli replaced him, bolstering the weight of the nearly unconscious man between her and Lynn. “Use it if you have to,” Mark urged her.
Kelli looked as though she was going to say something, but Mark didn’t have time to listen. They were in a building potentially filled with men who needed their silence.
Mark, however, had no intention of staying quiet now.
Chapter Twenty
If Kelli had known how active her night would be, she definitely would have purchased a more flexible dress. As it was, she shuffled along a new corridor, trying to balance Dennis’s weight with the pressure to find a hiding spot, and quickly. She hadn’t forgotten about the men who had originally forced them into the basement.
“Let’s get into a room,” Kelli said to Lynn. The shorter woman was having a more difficult time supporting the tall man. It would be much easier to hide him and then hide themselves...but Kelli was realizing she didn’t want to just leave him behind. She still didn’t know the full extent of his involvement with what had really happened, but Mark had seemed to trust him. Plus, her maternal instincts were in full gear.
Dennis was hurt. Badly.
He needed to be protected.
“In here.” Lynn nodded to a door near the end of the hallway. Kelli held most of Dennis’s weight as her friend slowly opened it and peeked inside. “It’s dark.”
“Good.”
They struggled inside before Lynn shut the door behind them.
“Should I try the light?” Lynn whispered. Fear coated her words. Kelli couldn’t deny that the darkness made her heartbeat race even faster. The last time she was in a dark room, Hector had been there.
Waiting.
“Yeah, just to see what we’re dealing with.”
Lynn fumbled against the wall for a moment before flipping the switch.
“Oh, my God,” Kelli breathed.
It was a long room that—if she had to guess—was the heart of the basement. That wasn’t the only thing it was the heart of—it was easy to see the room housed an insane amount of drugs. Bags of white were boxed across a long table that ran most of the length of the room. Scales sat on the cabinets that lined the wall opposite them, along with boxes that were closed, taped up and marked Bowman Foundation, Providing Hope, Providing Light.
“Why wouldn’t they lock this door?” Lynn whispered, more panicked than before.
“We need to hide in a different room,” Kelli responded instantly, already trying to open the door again. Dennis didn’t move with her and instead went completely limp. Kelli wasn’t prepared for the dead weight, and together they fell to the floor. Like the rest of the basement so far, it was just painted concrete. Pain exploded in Kelli’s elbow as it connected with the floor that just wouldn’t give. Dennis slumped on top of her. At least she’d been able to break his fall.
“Crap,” Lynn squealed. She crouched down and tried to pull Dennis back up. “He’s so heavy for such a lean guy!”
Kelli wasn’t going to argue with that.
“Let’s set him up against the wall,” Kelli said after taking in a few breaths. Together the two heaved and pulled the man into a sitting position, propping him up as best they could against the wall next to the door. Kelli moved the man’s jacket out of the way to see the extent of his wound.
“Oh, man, oh, man,” Lynn chanted beside her. “That doesn’t look good.”
“Don’t pass out, please,” Kelli scolded. She took the towel Dennis had been using and pressed it against the wound, setting the gun down next to him.
“I almost passed out once when I accidentally saw you giving birth and I’ve heard about it forever,” Lynn said in mock offense. She was trying to lighten the mood. “We’re in a room filled with cocaine in the Basement of Doom and I’m still hearing about it.”
Kelli wanted to smile—she wanted to laugh—but Dennis wasn’t looking good. And Mark...
The last she’d seen was him walking toward the man who had killed her husband. She hadn’t wanted to leave him, but at the same time she’d known that staying would distract him. Plus she needed to get Lynn and Dennis safe.
“Put your hand on this,” Kelli ordered, her mind wholly on Mark. He’d saved her life and now was fighting to keep it safe. Lynn, despite her aversion to blood, did as she was told.
“What do we do now?” Lynn asked.
Kelli stood and surveyed the room. She really didn’t like that they had chosen it to hide in. Aside from the door they had just come through, another door at the far end led back out in the direction of the first set of stairs. Another door was opposite it, nearer her. Did it connect to the hallway Mark and Craig were in?
She had to find out.
Kelli nudged the gun on the floor with her foot. “Put that in your hand and shoot anyone who tries to shoot you,” she said, another order in a voice she hoped was stern.
Lynn’s eyes widened. “Where are you going?”
“To help Mark. I can’t just leave him to fight for us.” As the words left her mouth, she felt a surge of emotion swell and surround her heart. “I can’t leave him,” she said more softly.
Lynn could have pointed out that there wasn’t much Kelli might be able to do. That he’d made them leave. That she was a distraction. All of the things that Kelli was c
urrently thinking...but Lynn didn’t.
“Shouldn’t you take this, then?” she asked instead, holding the gun back out to her.
A weird clicking noise cut off Kelli’s response. The two women turned toward it.
“No,” Kelli whispered in anguish. Someone was turning the doorknob at the other end of the room. The one farthest from Mark. The other men who had chased them had found them. The knob twisted, and both women fell silent in fear. However, the door was locked.
“What do we do?” Lynn whispered. “We can’t just leave him here, can we?” She looked down at the defenseless man. His breathing was shallow but he was still breathing.
“No, we can’t. Come with me,” Kelli snapped. “I have a plan and it’s probably really stupid.”
Lynn didn’t question her. She put Dennis’s hand against the towel on his side and quickly followed Kelli right to the door. The knob had stopped turning, but jingling could be heard from the other side. They were going to unlock the door.
Kelli hiked up her dress and put Lynn’s hand on the fabric.
“Pull,” she ordered. Momentarily confused at the weird demand, Kelli caught on quickly. The two pulled their handfuls of fabric in two different directions. They didn’t stop until it ripped open up to Kelli’s thigh.
Where Kelli could grab Nikki’s stun gun with ease.
She pushed Lynn to the side so she wouldn’t be seen when the door opened.
“Use the gun if you have to,” Kelli whispered.
The jingling of keys stopped as Kelli slid off her shoes and aligned herself to the left of the door. She gave Lynn one quick nod and turned off the light.
The sound of metal scraping metal filled the large room.
Kelli tightened her hand around the stun gun and waited.
Keep calm, Kel. You can do this.
The door unlocked and opened. Even though Kelli would realize later that what happened next was quick, in the moment everything slowed down. Light from the hallway came into the room, but not enough to tip the men off that two women were waiting for them. The man in front took a step inside and reached toward Kelli to flip the light switch.
That’s when she acted.
Squeezing the buttons on both sides, she pushed the stun gun into the man’s chest. It crackled to life. The man never saw it coming. He dropped the gun in his hand and spasmed to his knees.
“What the hell?” his partner yelled from behind.
Kelli turned, ready to zap him, too, but he was faster. He caught her wrist and twisted hard. She screamed in pain and, like the other man’s gun, the stun gun fell to the ground. Kelli brought her foot up in an attempt to kick the man away from her, but he anticipated the move. He slung her down to the ground next to his partner using only her wrist.
Pain once again exploded within her elbow as it connected with the ground.
But pain was nothing compared to the fear that washed over her.
For the second time that night, a man had her on the ground, gun in hand.
“It’s amazing how one woman can be such a pain in the a—” he started.
“Ahh!”
Lynn let out a war cry as she rushed the man. Even though she was short in stature, the force of her body hitting his slammed him into the opened door. Kelli scrambled to her feet and lunged at the man’s gun hand. She tightened her grip around his wrist and tried to shake the weapon free. He thrashed around, dislodging Lynn and nearly knocking Kelli back down. If he moved like that again, she’d lose her grip and he’d surely shoot them both.
So Kelli took a page from the Grace toddler handbook, craned her neck over and bit the top of his hand.
“Are you serious?” the man roared in pain. Kelli bit down harder just as he used his other hand to grab her hair. He yanked back, which did the trick. She yelped in pain, releasing her hold. “It’s not so fun, is it?” he spit out. Kelli was sickened to hear a touch of humor in his voice.
“It sure isn’t!”
Two thuds sounded.
Then Kelli’s attacker crumpled to the floor.
Chest heaving, breathing painfully quick, Kelli stumbled over the man she’d shocked and felt for the light switch. When she finally found it, she winced at the pain in her wrist.
The men—the same ones dressed in suits who had chased them into the stairwell to begin with—were sprawled out next to each other. The first one who had been shocked was facedown, arms bent awkwardly away from his gun. The other was slouched against the open door with blood on his temple.
“Why didn’t you use your gun?” Kelli asked Lynn. She scooped up the stun gun and the first man’s weapon. The stun gun went back to her garter. It was warm to the touch.
“I did,” Lynn exclaimed.
“You pistol-whipped him!”
Lynn bent to retrieve the other discarded gun.
“I panicked! Excuse me for not being all Miss Bad Butt Stun Gun Lady,” she said with a huff. “But hey, we started with one gun. Now we have three, so that has to be helpful, right?”
“I sure hope so.”
* * *
MARK SLAMMED INTO the wall so hard that for a moment all he saw was stars. It didn’t help that Craig wasn’t giving him any breathing room to defend himself—let alone hit him back. Since Kelli, Lynn and Dennis had gone to hide, the man in black hadn’t let up.
Apparently he’d been partaking in a lot more gym sessions than Mark had realized.
The bodyguard ducked to the side as Craig aimed a punch his way. Instead of connecting with his face, it hit his shoulder. The pain that came from that added to a growing list of aches radiating throughout his body.
He brought up his bloody knuckle in an undercut to the man’s stomach. Craig wheezed and staggered backward. He wasn’t unstable for long.
Craig was fast—Mark would give him that—but he was also arrogant. Mark had been in a lot of fights throughout his life and he knew Craig’s type. He fought with the confidence that no one else could win. That he was invincible. That, even though Craig’s eye was bloody, his torso probably sore and his knuckles bleeding, Mark was still going to lose.
He was wrong.
Mark met him in the middle with a one-two punch to his jaw. Craig blocked before his fist could connect beneath his chin. The bodyguard countered at the same time Craig threw his punch. Mark’s fist hit the other side of his jaw just as Craig dealt a jab into Mark’s brow.
Mark felt the blood before he even felt the pain.
Both men broke apart, each in their own worlds of hurt. Warm liquid streamed down into Mark’s left eye, stinging it. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and cringed at the pain. He could have sworn he’d heard a crack but hoped Craig had only busted his eyebrow.
“You know, I could have killed you more times than I care to count over the last two years. I should have.” Craig backed up a few steps, rubbing the length of his jaw. “But no, Hector said you didn’t know anything. That you were harmless.” He laughed and spit to the side. Blood mingled with his teeth. “I bet he’ll be singing a different tune when he finds his men upstairs.”
“So—what?—Hector paid you to kill Victor and then become my neighbor? Sounds like you’re whipped,” Mark shot back. As much as he wanted to end the fight, he needed to catch his breath. If that meant keeping the man talking for a second and finding out some answers, then so be it.
Craig’s nostrils flared.
“Call it an offer of convenience. I needed a place to stay and he needed someone watched for a while. Don’t mistake that for blind obedience. I don’t work for anyone,” he seethed.
“But I thought Boss Hector was pulling all of the strings?” Mark prodded. “Or is breaking into a house to steal from a woman and child something you like to do as a hobby?”
“Like you, bodyg
uard, I have clients,” he said, a smile starting to seep through his words. “Unlike you, I know how not to destroy their lives completely.” His tone gave way to a wide grin. “They don’t resent or pity me.”
Mark recalled the soft touch of Kelli’s lips earlier that day.
The all-consuming guilt he’d felt for the death of Victor was one he’d never forget. However, that didn’t mean it would keep him from living. Trying to cut Mark down by reminding him he hadn’t saved Victor wasn’t going to work. Not anymore.
If anything, it made his resolve stronger.
“You’re right,” Mark said. It was his time to smirk. “You should have gotten rid of me when you had the chance.”
This time Mark was the faster of the two. He grabbed the man’s shirt collar with both hands and head-butted him hard. Craig let out a howl of pain and fell to the ground.
Ready to finish the fight—to knock the man out of commission—Mark went for him again. Craig didn’t try to back away or move to the side. Instead, he grabbed at his ankle and produced something that went beyond leveling the playing field to downright demolishing it.
Craig held the small revolver steady as he struggled to his feet. There was no smile left in him.
He was all pissed.
“You had another gun?” Mark asked, frustration and anger clashing inside of him.
“Welcome to Texas!”
Chapter Twenty-One
The good part about fighting in such a narrow space was that the only way Craig could easily escape was by backtracking several feet before fleeing through the stairwell door. On the flip side of that coin, Mark was in the same boat. To get out of view or range of the gun in Craig’s hand, Mark would have to run backward and hope he could turn around either corner before the crazed man got a shot off. The other option was to rush him but, by the look in Craig’s eyes, Mark knew he’d be shot in the process.
So Mark quickly weighed his limited options as Craig got to his feet. His gun never wavered. He raised his hand a fraction, getting a better bead on Mark’s head. The bodyguard tensed.
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