by Anna Blakely
“H-how? Martin, the m-military looked into it. How were y-you able to—”
“I knew the guy in charge of the investigation. I also knew he’d been having an affair for years. If his rich wife ever found out, he’d not only lose his military pension, he’d lose every dime he ever had. So, I paid him off to keep quiet and then—”
“C-covered it up on the c-company’s side,” she concluded for him.
Martin nodded. “I made fake purchase orders to cover up what Billy had done. Used my own fucking trust fund to pay off anyone else who could blow the whistle on us. And it worked, too.” He chuckled humorlessly. “That is, until Wright’s P.I. contacted me a few weeks ago. I didn’t know what else to do, so I offered to meet with him. I kept thinking I could figure out a way. Maybe bribe him, too. But everything got out of hand.”
A sinking feeling knotted in her gut. “Y-you k-killed him.”
Martin started to cry again, his mood swings bouncing from one extreme to the other. “I didn’t mean to. We met at night, down by the river. I swear, I just went there to talk. I thought I could pay him off like the others, but he wouldn’t listen. He got his phone out and started to call the police. I had to shoot him.”
Sadness filled the man’s eyes as he stared back at her. The lines on his forehead smoothed, and when he spoke again, his voice held a tone of acceptance.
“I had no choice, Brynnon. Not then, not now.”
Martin had been a part of her family for years, and her brain struggled to believe he’d killed one man, shot her brother...and had just confessed everything to her.
“I didn’t go to Billy’s apartment tonight with the intentions of killing him. In fact, it didn’t even cross my mind to bring this in with me.”
From his other pocket, Martin pulled out a long, black tube. In less than a second, she realized what it was for.
“I did, however learn a thing or two after.”
Brynnon watched as he attached the silencer to the end of the gun’s barrel. Oh, god. He’s going to kill me.
Feeling as though she had no other choice but to fight, Brynnon reached for the gun.
“No!” Martin fought back hard.
With her hands wrapped around the cold metal, growling as she attempted to break it loose from his grasp. When Martin’s finger slid down to the trigger, Brynnon used all her strength to turn the barrel away from her body.
The gun went off, a sharp zipping sound passing by her just before the bullet hit the concrete wall behind her.
“You stupid bitch!”
With surprising strength, he forcefully ripped the weapon from her grasp. Before she could protect herself, Martin swung the butt of the gun toward her head, the hard metal slamming against her temple.
Brynnon dropped to the ground, blood immediately beginning to run down the side of her face. Its warmth was an almost welcomed sensation.
“Get up!”
She felt a rough pull on her left arm as she was yanked back up to her feet. Stars danced before her eyes, the dizziness making it hard to fight back. But she still tried.
“Let me go,” Brynnon pushed against him.
“Knock it off!” Martin yanked her body close to his. “Try a stunt like that again, and I’ll shoot you right here.”
Pushed forward, Brynnon winced when she felt the gun’s barrel being pushed against her ribs.
Forced to walk quickly up the smooth ramp, she groaned, “You’re gonna shoot m-me anyway. Doesn’t really m-matter where you d-do it.”
“You’d just better pray the wind muffled that gunshot enough for no one to notice. And don’t even think about screaming for help. Anyone comes to your aid, they’ll be shot, too. Don’t think you want that on your pretty little conscious.”
Good god. The man had gone from being her father’s trusted chief of staff to someone who didn’t blink at the thought of killing an innocent person.
“What’s the p-plan? Y-you take me somewhere else and shoot m-me. Then what? N-not like you can just v-vanish.”
“Actually, I can.” He smirked. “Unlike your brother, I think ahead of the game. I made a contingency plan. Invested well and made a nice little nest egg for myself with a new I.D. and everything.”
“You’ll have every p-police department s-searching f-for you.”
“Not in Mexico, I won’t.” He glanced over at her, disappointment shadowing his expression. “After all this, you’re still underestimating me.”
A blustering wind whipped through her hair, it’s below-freezing temperature stealing the breath from her lungs as they cleared the garage’s entrance and onto the open parking lot.
If she felt cold before, it was nothing compared to now
With his free hand, Martin pulled the keys from his coat pocket and pressed the fob. An SUV parked a few spaces up beeped, its brake lights flashing to indicate the doors had been unlocked.
If you get into that vehicle, you’re dead.
Brynnon tried—and failed—to come up with a way to get herself out of this unbelievable situation. Between the intense, wintry air and the shock of what she’d learned, her mind felt as though it was shutting down. Protecting itself from what it knew would inevitably happen.
Fear, unlike any she’d ever felt before, consumed her as she realized her only chance of escape would be to run from the man she now knew was planning to kill her. He may still succeed, but against the odds or not, she damn sure wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
Before she could change her mind, Brynnon used all the strength she could muster to shove him away from her. Not wasting a second, she spun on the balls of her feet and began to sprint as fast and as far away as she could.
Though she’d anticipated it, the painful force from the bullet was a shocking surprise. Brynnon cried out as she flew forward, her legs crumbling beneath her as she fell.
Fire filled the entire left side of her back, it’s burning tentacles spreading throughout the rest of her torso. She tried to move, but the pain was too much, and this time, even the warmth from her blood did nothing to fight off the ice-cold pavement beneath her.
A string of curses barely reached her ears as Martin stormed over to where she lay. Rather than putting a bullet in her brain—as she’d assumed he would—the man reached down and wrapped his gloved hands around her wrists.
Unceremoniously, he began dragging her limp body across the rough asphalt, rock salt and the occasional rock digging into her abs as they went. Brynnon opened her mouth to scream for help, but the pain from her gunshot wound and the bone-chilling air stole her ability to scream.
Stopping in the shadows between two cars, Martin released her arms, letting them fall onto the ground above her head. He squatted down next to her, his voice barely audible over the strong wind.
“I would’ve made it quick, you know.” He gently moved some hair from her face. “I was going to take you someplace secluded and be done in one shot. Because you didn’t listen, you’ll have to lie here in the cold, waiting to die. Don’t worry.” He glanced at the wound on her back. “From the looks of it, you’ll probably bleed out soon.”
“P-please...” she begged.
“I’m sorry, Brynnon.” Martin stood. “Just remember, it didn’t have to be this way.” Then he left her there. Alone and bleeding.
She thought of her father, her heart breaking for what he’d be forced to live with if both she and her brother died tonight. Brynnon prayed Billy would pull through.
He’d most likely spend the rest of his life in prison, but at least he’d be alive, and her father wouldn’t be left completely alone.
Grant’s face filled her mind, her tears freezing against her cheeks before they could fall to the ground. Her greatest regret was that she hadn’t told him she loved him.
Brynnon continued to lay there, helpless. Dying. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but soon felt her muscles relax and the violent shivers subsiding.
Her breathing shallowed and her pulse weaken
ed. Oddly, she no longer felt cold and the unbearable pain from before had become nothing more than a dull ache. Even on the verge of unconsciousness, Brynnon knew she was dying.
When her eyelids became too weighted to keep open, she gave up the fight and slowly let them close. Using the last of her remaining mental strength, she brought forth her most cherished memory.
Picturing the way Grant looked as he danced with her, she let go and drifted off to sleep. Before the last sliver of consciousness gave way, Brynnon whispered a silent prayer her death wouldn’t push him over the edge for good.
****
Chapter 21
“Where’s Brynnon?” Grant scanned Billy Cantrell’s room, but she wasn’t there.
“She and Martin left a little while ago.” William Cantrell stood. “Why? Did you find something?”
“They left the hospital?” Fear threatened to choke him as he pulled out his phone and tried calling her.
“No. Just the room. Did you find the shooter?”
Derek scoffed. “You could say that.”
“Where’d they go?” Grant demanded, a tidal wave of fear threatening to take him over when he couldn’t get the call to go through.
Surprised by the alarm in Grant’s voice, the senator’s gaze bounced between them. “Who was it? Who shot my boy?”
Forcing himself to remain calm, Grant ignored the man’s questions. Knowing he needed to keep a clear head, he did his best to treat this like any other job and think of their best course of action.
They could wait for Brynnon and Martin to come back to the room. Logically, Martin had no way of knowing they were onto him, so there’d be no reason for him to be suspicious and take off.
Earlier, however, Coop had made it pretty clear they’d find the person who shot Billy sooner, rather than later. If the guy did get spooked, there was a chance he’d either use Brynnon as a bargaining chip while he made his escape, or the asshole could try and get rid of her, just like he did her brother.
Fuck. That.
Pointing to Derek, he ordered, “Access hospital security. See if you can find where they went.”
“How long ago did they leave?” Derek asked Cantrell as he sat his laptop down next to the sink and began typing.
“I don’t know. Half an hour ago, maybe? Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”
Grant didn’t pull any punches delivering the bad news. “Downing shot Billy.”
“What?” Brynnon’s father shook his head.
“We’re pretty sure it had something to do with what happened in Kunar, which means as long as Brynnon’s with him, she’s in danger.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Unfortunately, Sir”—Coop looked at the shocked man—“it’s not.”
“Martin’s like a son to me. He’s Billy’s best friend. He’d never—”
“Well, he did!” Grant practically shouted. When Cantrell started to argue again, he closed the distance. “I know it’s hard, but I need you to listen to me. Derek discovered an extra security system set up in your son’s apartment. There’s a camera in every room, and it’s constantly recording and sending that data to a private server. We were able to access the recorded footage from tonight, when Billy was shot. You can see Martin’s face clear as day.”
The senator shook his head. “I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just need you to trust me.”
“Oh, my god.” The senator dropped back into his chair.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, and we don’t have all the answers yet. But right now, my focus is on finding Brynnon and getting her as far away from that bastard as possible. Is there anything you can think of that would help us do that?”
Cantrell nodded woodenly. “They were going to get some coffee.”
“We could split up,” Coop offered. “Start looking for them.”
Grant shook his head. “This place is too big. It’ll be a goddamn goose chase. D?” He swung his gaze to Derek.
“I’m on it,” his teammate responded.
The seconds rolled by at a nauseating pace until finally, Derek stopped typing. He spun around, the expression on his face grim.
“I found them. He took her into the parking garage after they left here.” Derek looked over his shoulder, his next words struck with fear. “Downing pulled a gun on her.”
“What?” Both Grant and Brynnon’s father spoke at the same time.
“Here.” Derek rewound the footage and stepped aside for Grant and Brynnon’s father. “See for yourself.”
Grant watched as Brynnon and Martin entered the garage beneath the building. Martin smiled and said something to her, but Brynnon stopped walking. They exchanged a few words before the fucker pulled out a gun.
“Jesus,” Coop whispered from beside him.
Bulldozing past his fear, Grant forced himself to look at the scene with the eyes of an operative, rather than a lover. As much as he wanted to race to the garage that very second, chances were they were no longer there.
Needing to see as much as they could in order to determine where they went after this moment in time, Grant continued watching the heart wrenching footage.
Brynnon stood stoically as Martin put a silencer on his gun. They went back and forth, talking and yelling at one another, and then all of a sudden, she went for the gun.
“Oh, God,” Cantrell groaned.
Baby, no!
Grant’s throat closed up and he held his breath, praying he wasn’t about to witness her death.
Downing regained control of the situation. He didn’t shoot Brynnon, as Grant had feared, but his relief was fleeting.
Instead, the bastard pistol-whipped her on the side of her head. A violent rage unlike any Grant had ever felt soared through him as he watched her fall to the ground.
“Motherfucker,” he hissed between clenched teeth. Fists shaking at his sides, Grant vowed, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“Get past this so we can figure out where the hell they are now,” Coop encouraged.
The sped-up version showed Downing yanking Brynnon off the ground and hauling her up the ramp. When they got to the top, they turned left, and out of the camera’s viewpoint.
“Where the hell did they go?” Grant shot Derek a look.”
“I’m working on it.” Derek squeezed himself back in front of the screen. A few clicks of his fingers and then, “Here. He took her around the corner.”
Grant kept watching not willing to take his eyes off her. Less than a minute into the new feed, his world began to shatter.
All four men, including Brynnon’s father, watched as she pushed herself free and started to run. Grant’s legs nearly gave out from beneath him when he saw Martin raise the gun, the bullet hitting Brynnon a fraction of a second later.
“No!” Grant reached out toward the screen, as if he could somehow save her.
“Ah, fuck.” Coop ran a hand through his hair.
Cantrell started to cry. “He shot her. That son of a bitch shot my baby girl!”
Tears pricked the corner of his Grant’s eyes, but he held them in. The only way to help Brynnon now was to watch the rest of the footage and find out where she and Martin were now.
Ignoring Cantrell’s cries of anguish—along with his sudden urge to vomit—Grant remained silent as they saw Downing drug the woman he loved out of sight.
Less than a minute later, Martin came back into the camera’s view, walking casually to his car and driving off. Without Brynnon.
Grant could hear Derek speaking to someone, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. It was as if everything around him had suddenly become muted.
For the first time since being with her, he felt himself shutting down. Walls only she’d been able to break past began rising again, and emotions Grant had finally allowed himself to feel started to fade.
Before that happened, Derek’s excited voice broke through.
“S
he’s still out there!”
Grant slid his cold gaze to his teammate. “What?”
Derek’s hopeful eyes turned to his. “Snap out of it, man! Downing didn’t take Brynnon with him. H-he must’ve left her outside somewhere. She has to be close.”
Grateful his teammate was still thinking straight, Grant shook off his numbing fear and ran from the room. With him in the lead, all four men shot down the hall toward the elevator.
“As soon as we get outside and I have a fuckin’ signal again, I’ll call Ryker and give him everything we have, including a description of Downing’s car and license plate.”
Good. Downing shot an innocent woman on Homeland’s turf. Grant knew Ryker would send every agent available to take his ass down.
Coop slapped the button, but Grant refused to stand and wait. “Fuck this. I’m taking the stairs.”
The rest did the same, falling in line right behind him.
“I just checked the temp.” Derek ran into the stairwell. “The good news is, it’s only thirty-five with winds moving at fifteen miles per hour.”
“How the fuck is that good news?” Grant growled, running down the stairs two at a time.
Derek explained himself as the group of men continued hastily making their way down to the ground floor.
“She’s been out there long enough, hypothermia’s probably already set in. That will slow her heart rate, causing less blood loss.”
The fact that they were now praying her body temperature had dropped low enough to slow her heart told Grant just how dire the situation was.
Hold on, baby. I’m coming.
Grant’s legs moved even faster, as though he was running for his life. In a lot of ways, he was.
He couldn’t lose her. Not now. He’d finally opened himself up again, and it was all thanks to her.
After what felt like an eternity, Grant threw open the door leading into the parking garage. Running at full speed, he didn’t bother to wait for the others as he made his way up the ramp.