by Susan Stoker
She bent to pick up a soggy pile of paper on the ground near her feet, surprised to discover a few baby photos, a potato chip bag, and a couple of bills. Her mind reeled. “This has a Dallas address.”
Burly took the papers from her and nodded. “Tornado picked them up there and dropped it here. It’s common, especially with ones that size.”
Her heart silently ached for the owners.
“Yeah, that was easily an F4, wouldn’t you say, Rook?” Remy scratched his temple as he glanced around.
“Yes,” he replied. “We were lucky it sideswiped us.”
“Sideswiped?” She raised a brow.
Rook nodded, handing her the kittens. “Other than the trees, from the looks of it, none of this debris is ours. The roofs and buildings look fine. Except for some damage from flying debris.” He gestured with his head. “So, we need to get you back to the house, then we can assess the damage.”
Although she wanted to help, Tarah kept her mouth shut and started to walk past the side of the barn toward the house, cuddling Semper and Fi. Poor things were wet and dirty. They needed a nice warm bath.
“Where the hell are the guys?” Remy mumbled.
Rook’s forehead creased. “They should be out here by now.”
As she rounded the corner of the barn, someone yanked her hair and dragged her to the side. By the time she released the kittens, Tarah had lost her opportunity to fight back before the feel of cold steel pressed against the base of her skull.
“Sorry, boys. You’re on your own,” a feminine voice stated. “I locked the others inside. So, if you’d be so kind as to drop your weapons…slowly…in front of you, this bitch might live without my bullet in her brain.”
She could feel anger and fear rolling off the men, their expressions grim and deadly.
“Charlotte, what are you doing?” Remy asked, dropping his weapon as instructed.
Charlotte Wilson.
Finally, she had a target. No doubt the woman was the subject of her vibrating phone.
“I’m sorry, Remy, really, I am. I like you, but, you’re related to Rook, so you’re collateral damage.” The woman gave a mirthless laugh. “Kind of like your truck.”
Remy’s brows snapped together. “You did that?”
“Yep,” Charlotte boasted. “I’ve been toying with you two for over a month now. Took a little time to hack your alarm system, but it’s been worth it.”
“So you’re the one who put the kittens on the barn roof, then knocked the ladder out from under me.”
“Yes. Like I said, sorry, but I needed to get your brother here. And it worked.” Satisfaction oozed in her tone. “He even brought me a toy.”
Pain sliced through Tarah’s ear as the woman bit her. She grit her teeth, refusing to show pain.
“Oooh, I think maybe she enjoys that. Does she, Rook? I can see why you like her.”
“What do you want?” Rook growled, voice low. Cold.
Steel.
“Why, for you to suffer,” Charlotte replied in a chilling tone. “And what better way than through your girlfriend. You took someone I loved. I take someone you love. It was going to be Remy, but now…now I think pretty Tarah here is the answer.”
His hands fisted at his sides. “Let her be. It’s me you seem to have a beef with.”
As Rook baited the woman, Tarah waited for the gun to ease from her skull to make her move.
“You’re right. I do.” Charlotte’s grip increased on Tarah’s head, reigniting the sting.
Dammit. Again she grit her teeth and her eyes watered as she breathed through the pain.
“Your testimony put my father in prison,” the woman continued. “He was drunk, not a criminal. He died with a shiv shoved into his lung in that hell hole later that year.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is that what this is about? The accident I witnessed? That was nearly ten years ago.”
“I know. I was twelve. And you sent him to his death.”
Tarah could feel the woman’s agitated breath on her neck.
“Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut and not testify?”
“Because he killed a little boy.” Rook’s brows snapped together. “Ran him over in front of his parents when he jumped a curb.”
“So?” Charlotte’s tone grew incredulous. “They had two other children. I only had one father.”
Chills raced down Tarah’s spine. This woman was crazy. Revenge had warped her mind.
Rook cocked his head. “Stuart Jenkins didn’t have any children.”
“Not with his wife.” Now derision coated the woman’s words. “My momma was a waitress at a bar in Virginia Beach. He used to spend one weekend a month with us. We were his real family. Not that rich, sterile bitch he lived with in D.C. And because of you, my momma had to get a second job as a night clerk at a gas station and was killed in a robbery a year later.”
That explained why her name hadn’t flagged the first time.
“Now, toss out the guns in your boots, boys, and kick them all a little closer to me.” Charlotte snickered in her ear. “I’m not stupid. Don’t need you getting any ideas. Hurry.”
“Okay,” Remy echoed Rook.
Tarah watched the brothers comply, knowing Rook had another tucked in the back of his jeans. With luck, Charlotte had no clue.
Apparently, she didn’t because the woman pushed Tarah closer to the guns. “Now, you boys step back. You too, old man.”
Burly scowled at the woman, but did as he was told.
Rook took one step back, his hand moving very slightly toward his hip. “Look, I’m sorry about your mom and your dad, but all I did was tell the judge what I saw.”
Adrenaline roared through Tarah’s veins. He was attempting to appeal to the woman to get her to change her mind, but he was also slowly going for his gun. She needed to help him out.
Charlotte jerked Tarah’s neck. “And all I’m going to do is kill your girlfriend with your gun while you watch.”
Like hell.
She’d let the woman do enough confessing. It was time to act.
“You know what, though? Before I do, I think maybe I should share your girlfriend’s little secret.”
Tarah’s heart dropped.
“Her last name isn’t Swanson. It’s Lynch.”
She watched Rook’s face and knew the instant her name clicked in his head. He paled and life drained out of his expression. Her chest squeezed, knowing he had to be experiencing the pain she’d tried so hard to avoid.
“This morning, I made a call to Salvatore Serrano to tell him I discovered you here.” Charlotte snickered near her ear. “That’s right, sweetheart. I know all about who you shot and who wants you dead. I overheard you talking to your boss. But I’m getting tired of waiting for this godfather dude to arrive. So, I’m going to have the pleasure.”
Tarah knew she should be alarmed about Serrano, but she was more concerned with Rook and what was going through his mind. His face gave nothing away.
Pure granite.
“Now, let’s pick up that gun.” As soon as Charlotte started forcing Tarah to bend with her to the ground, she slowed her breathing, pushed all thoughts aside except exactly where she felt the woman’s hands and gun, and got ready to strike.
Chapter Eleven
‡
Rook’s mind reeled at the revelations Charlotte dropped. The biggest one…
Tarah Lynch.
The name had sounded familiar. It had taken him a moment, but his mind had cleared enough for him to remember why. The computer hacker at the Knight Agency was TJ Lynch. Tarah was his sister.
She was also an agent. One of three he hadn’t met face to face yet.
A damn agent.
He pushed his emotions aside to deal with later, and focused on the vengeful woman with a gun to Tarah’s head.
“Hurry,” the woman demanded.
She was smart. She used Tarah as a shield. It wouldn’t help if he drew the weapon he had hidden behind his bac
k if he couldn’t get a clean shot.
Then his heart lurched and he watched, as if in slow motion, as Tarah twisted to the side when Charlotte reached for his gun, and knocked the woman’s feet out from under her.
A gunshot rang out, and his heart stopped, but started again when the women ceased struggling and Tarah slowly rose to her feet. Unharmed, gun in her hand.
She turned around to face them. “Are you all okay?” Her gaze shifted over each of them, wild and dark with worry.
“We’re fine,” Burly answered. “But you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
Remy picked up his guns, walked to Charlotte, and bent down to check for a pulse. “She’s dead.”
Feelings of betrayal and anger burst to the surface as Rook retrieved his weapons and stood.
Tarah stepped closer. “Rook, I—”
“Save it.” He cut her off. “I don’t want to hear it right now. We need to get you out of here.” His phone vibrated in his pocket. It’d been doing that for the past ten minutes. He answered the call.
“Rook, good,” Knight said. “Charlotte—”
“Is dead,” he finished, watching Tarah pull out her phone. “Agent Lynch took her out.”
Pain etched across her face as she paled, holding his gaze.
“Ah, so you know. Don’t hold that against her, Rook. It’s all on me. She asked daily if she could come clean, but I told her no. Because every time I asked you if I could send help, you refused.”
“So is Serrano a hoax? A ruse to embed one of your people here to guard me?”
“No, he’s no hoax. Tarah was protecting a witness when junior opened fire. She shot back. It was a righteous shoot. Senior wants her dead. I sent her to you for protection, but gave her orders to help get to the bottom of your threats. You both needed help, son. Your refusal of it left me no choice.
“You taught me there’s always a choice, sir.”
“The alternative wasn’t an option. I take care of my own,” the commander stated. “We can talk about it later, right now, we got word Serrano touched down in Texas. I informed the FBI field office in Dallas. They’re on their way. So are we, but we won’t arrive for another eight minutes. You need to get everyone out of there now, or take cover in the facility.”
Rook drew his gun, straightened his back, and ran his gaze over the area, but with all the debris laying around, he couldn’t tell if they were alone. “Copy that.” He hung up the same time as Tarah.
“What’s going on?” Remy asked, gun in hand.
“Serrano’s in Texas.”
His brother mumbled a curse.
“Knight’s on his way,” Tarah informed, pulling a gun from inside her boot.
Apparently, her call had been from one of the agents with Knight.
“But he’s eight minutes out. We need to get to the facility.” He grasped her by the arm and tugged her with him toward the stables. Remy and Burly followed suit.
The hair on the back of his neck began to prickle.
Dammit.
They were too late.
Chapter Twelve
‡
Tarah’s heart froze.
They weren’t alone.
Shots rang out, blocking their path to the stable.
“Come on!” Rook pulled her toward the barn where Remy and Burly headed.
Once inside, they stayed low as shots ravished the weathered building. She whipped out her phone and sent a text to Knight to inform him of Serrano’s arrival, and that they were pinned down in the barn.
Rook unstacked several bales of hay, then ordered her and Burly to get in and crouch down before he started to restack the bales around them.
“Wait.” She grabbed his arm. “Let me help.”
His brows crashed together. “Hell no. You’re under my protection, Tarah. You’re going to do what I say, and I say stay put with Burly. My brother and I will whittle down the numbers.”
And before she could protest again, he stacked her in, leaving only a few cracks overhead for ventilation.
She wanted to vent. Damn man was treating her like a target. A mark. But she could help. Had to help. Judging by the sound of gunfire, Rook and Remy were outnumbered. And only had two handguns each.
Pulling out her phone to check the time, she found Knight’s text.
Be there in four minutes.
She prayed that wouldn’t be too late.
“It’ll be okay,” Burly whispered. “My boys know what to do.”
He didn’t understand.
“Handguns against semi-automatics? And Remy can only use one arm. These aren’t some two-bit criminals.” She shook her head. “They’re seasoned pros.”
A warm hand patted her arm. “So are my boys. They don’t need bullets to take out these men.”
The hail of gunfire continued, only further down the barn as the brothers drew the gunman away from her and Burly.
She glanced at the time on her phone. “Knight’ll be here in two more minutes. You stay here. I’m heading out.”
Tarah tried to push against the bales, but they wouldn’t budge. Dammit. Ignoring the man’s pleas, she shimmied up the stacks and broke through the crack.
Two gunmen were making their way toward her, methodically checking each crevice, corner, behind machinery, and firing into each stack of hay they encountered.
She couldn’t let them reach Burly.
Scurrying down the back of the bales, she heard the distinct sound of a helicopter approaching.
Knight.
Tarah shoved her gun in the waist of her jeans to remove two knives from the inside of her boots. She needed to take these men out quietly so as not to draw attention and invite more. Heart hamming in her chest, she peered around the stack, waiting for the men to get close. As they raised their weapons to fire into the hay, she stepped out from behind and threw her knives, hitting them both in their hearts.
“Well done,” Brooke said, rushing into the barn with Sam and Knight. “I taught you well, my padawan.”
A smile twitched Tarah’s lips. She nodded. “Rook encased Burly and me in that stack, then took off with Remy to whittle the numbers.”
Knight glanced at the bodies littering the barn. “They’re succeeding. What do you say we give them a hand? Sam and I will go south, you two go north.”
The men disappeared the way they’d come, opening fire, no doubt on approaching gunmen, having gained attention with their helicopter landing.
Brooke motioned to Tarah’s arms. “You all right? How did your head and arms get cut?”
Tarah glanced at her arms and blinked. Dried blood smeared her flesh and shirt. “We were hit by hail before we made it to the storm shelter.
Visions of their lovemaking flashed through her head. She clenched her jaw and fought a round of tears. Now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. She drew in a few deep breaths and focused on the job.
“We better move,” Brooke said, heading to the other end of the barn.
Tarah grabbed an M-16 from one of the dead men and followed. At the end, they each hugged a wall and peered out the opened doors as two gunmen approached from the side of the stables. Rook appeared behind them out of nowhere, and in a flurry of movement, stabbed one and broke the other’s neck before either had gotten a shot off.
And on the other side, she could see Sam moving in the same manner and two more bodies dropping.
“Psst.” Brooke waved at her and mouthed Serrano, pointing to the smug man standing in the stable doorway several yards away.
He made it all too easy.
“Ms. Lynch?” he called. “I have your boyfriend.”
Her heart dropped to her stomach. She glanced to where she’d seen Rook last.
Empty. Nothing stirred on that side of the stable.
“Come on out and we’ll talk, but make it soon or he’ll be eating a bullet.” Serrano yanked Remy out into the open by his injured arm, shoving a gun to his temple.
Agony thinned Remy’s lips and pulled the colo
r from his face.
She sucked in a breath. The idiot thought Remy was her boyfriend. She didn’t know if that was good or bad. But she did know she wasn’t going to sit around and let the poor man suffer because of her.
“Don’t do it,” Brooke whispered. “You don’t have a vest.”
She straightened from the wall. “No, but I have you.” She set down her semiautomatic before heading out the door. “Fine.” She held her hands up. “I’m here. Let him go.”
“Ah, Ms. Lynch, finally we m—” Serrano jerked, his eyes going wide as he gazed down at the knife Remy shoved into his heart. The gun slipped from the mobster’s grip and he dropped to the ground.
Three shots rang out as Rook stepped out from the shadows and sent Serrano’s bodyguards to join him.
She rushed to Remy. “Are you okay? Do you need your shoulder looked at again? I’m so sorry.”
“I’m all right,” he reassured. “No need to apologize. I had him right where I wanted him.”
Relief slacked her shoulders and she carefully hugged the foolish man.
Knight, Sam, and Brooke approached, followed by Burly, and a grim-faced Rook who must’ve gone back to free the older man.
“Well done.” Knight shook Remy’s good hand, then Rook’s. “Looks like the two of you had it under control after all.”
“Yes, sir.” Rook gave a curt nod.
“You can be mad at me all you want, son, but stubbornness is folly when lives are on the line. You two did fine with Tarah, but what would’ve happened with Charlotte if she hadn’t been here? A bomb in the house maybe? An attempt on Burly? They were certainly all possible. So, don’t take your anger with me out on her. She was just doing her job.”
The knots in her stomach tightened. She knew Knight meant well, but he was adding nails to the coffin of her relationship with Rook.
“I understand, sir. And it all worked out. So, if you don’t mind, I need to let the people out of the facility and get to work on clean up. You and the FBI can handle this other mess.” With that, he turned and walked off.
No backward glance.
No goodbye.
Nothing.
Tarah sucked in a ragged breath and fought against the burning in her eyes and throat. This was her worst nightmare. Exactly the outcome she had been afraid of.