Adam and Jay reached Linc’s narrow curving driveway just as Jesse pulled up and jerked to a stop. Nikolai Rostov got out of the passenger seat, his fingers curled around a Desert Eagle fifty-caliber handgun. Nik Rostov was the only man who could hold a gun that big and make it look dainty.
“What’s with the Dezzy?” Adam asked, his lips twitching in amusement. “You looking to mow down a few trees?”
Nik just grinned, showing even white teeth behind his neat black goatee. “No need to get pissy just because you prefer something a little more…girly.”
Adam punched Nik’s shoulder, a blow that would have felled a lesser man. “I’ll show you girly,” he growled.
“We don’t have time for this,” Jesse said tersely. “Nik says no one’s come through the gate, so Nugent’s still here. Adam, you guys go around the pool and the tennis courts and take the back way up to Linc’s cottage. I’ll give you a couple minutes head start, then I’m goin’ up there to confront him head on.” His expression hardened. “I‘ll try and keep his attention on me so you can sneak up behind him.”
He watched Adam, Jay, and Nik take off running, his mind a chaotic jumble of thoughts and emotions. Fear settled in his belly like a massive block of ice. Christ, he had to calm down. He was no good to Sarah this way. Of all the spec ops missions he’d gone out on, none had ever been as important as this one. If he fucked this up and something happened to Sarah—
Clenching and unclenching his hands, he swiftly ran through a series of deep breathing exercises, forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand.
* * * *
How long have I been kneeling here, doing this? she wondered as her hands continued swishing endlessly through the long, spiky leaves of the daylilies. Minutes? Hours? Days? She didn’t know. All she knew was her knees ached, her back ached, her face ached. She’d found the keys five minutes ago and had buried them clandestinely in the bark mulch before crawling a little farther down the row of flowers, pretending to continue the search there. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep up this charade. How much longer she could keep stalling Phillip. He was getting antsier by the minute, waggling the gun around and muttering at her to “hurry the hell up.”
She straightened, blowing her bangs off her damp forehead. Even in the shade, it was hot and humid and she was sweating profusely. Lowering her head, she wiped the trickling moisture off her face with the back of one grimy hand. Where was Adam? Why hadn’t he come looking for her? Surely, by now, she’d been gone long enough for him to realize she was missing and, quite possibly, in danger.
“Turn around and go back,” Phillip ordered harshly, his voice strained almost to a whisper. “You couldn’t possibly have thrown them this far. And hurry up, damn you, you’re wasting time.”
Placing her feet beneath her, she pivoted on her toes to start back up the driveway. She resumed swishing, carefully avoiding the spot where she’d actually buried the keys.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Phillip snarled, sinking down to his own knees. “You’re about as useful as a tit on a bull!” Still holding the gun in his right hand, he began swatting with his left, sending mulch flying in all directions. In just a matter of seconds she heard the metallic jingle of keys. His eyes narrowed and a dangerous look crossed his face as he lifted them from the mulch. “You bitch!” he screamed, whipping the barrel of the gun across her left cheek. “You knew where they were all along!”
She screamed, hearing a crack as she sank to the ground, cradling her cheek as white-hot pain ripped through her head, momentarily blinding her.
“You fucking bitch! You deliberately hid them from me! You deliberately wasted precious time!” Grabbing her by the hair, he stood and yanked her up beside him, frog-marching her back up the hill to the car, ignoring her cries of pain. “Get in,” he snapped.
He was about to push her into the driver’s seat when the sound of tires crunching in the gravel had them both stiffening. Relief swept through Sarah as Jesse’s black Hummer came around the curve of the driveway, red and blue lights flashing along the front grill and the light bar on the roof. With a low growl, Phillip hooked his left forearm around Sarah’s neck and jerked her back against him, tightening his arm until she was choking, gasping for breath. As he pulled even tighter, blackness edged her vision and she clutched frantically at his forearm, terrified that he would literally choke her to death.
Just in time, he eased off slightly and she sagged, sucking a few gallons of air into her burning lungs. Then she felt something press against the side of her neck. Not small and round like a gun barrel, but long…thin…and very, very sharp. Oh, God…She swallowed painfully past the sudden terror constricting her throat, feeling the long, sharp edge of the blade just nick her skin, releasing a trickle of blood down her neck. Her eyes filled with horror as she watched Jesse get out of the Hummer and quietly shut the door.
For a long moment he just stood there, unmoving, staring stonily across the distance between them, taking in her torn knees, her badly bruised and swelling face, the drops of blood forming on her neck. Listening to her frantic, wheezing attempts to breathe.
Christ! His fingers itched. He’d never wanted to kill anyone as badly as he wanted to kill Phillip Nugent right here, right now. But if he reached for the Sig tucked snugly against the small of his back, as fast and as accurate as he was, Nugent would still have enough time to slit Sarah’s throat. Struggling to work the rage and terror from his expression, he stuffed it deep down inside his queasy belly, where, hopefully, it would stay until he had time to deal with it. Right now he needed to have all his wits about him to deal with a man who was jittery, desperate, unpredictable and, most likely, insane.
Drawing air deep into his lungs, he gathered the reins of his control, priming himself for battle. As Sarah watched, he seemed to grow—in height, in breadth, in sheer icy determination. He took a step forward, his face carved in granite, his obsidian eyes flat and calm and deadly. For a moment, she almost felt sorry for Phillip Nugent.
“Stay right there!” Phillip screeched, removing the knife from Sarah’s neck and brandishing it wildly in Jesse’s direction. “Don’t come a single step closer or I swear I’ll kill her right here! I’ll do it! Don’t think I won’t!” He squeezed his arm so tight, he nearly pulled her feet up off the ground. She yelped and started to kick, tugging frantically on Phillip’s forearm, trying desperately to loosen his hold.
Jesse stopped. “Let her go, Nugent.”
Phillip snorted. “Or what?” he asked, his voice dripping with contempt. “You gonna shoot me?”
“You’re strangling her.” Keeping his voice low and calm, Jesse raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just let her go, and I’ll let you go, no harm, no foul.” Working to keep his expression neutral, he sucked in his breath and held it until he thought his lungs would burst. Then he released it slowly. Trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible, he leaned against the fender, folded his arms across his chest, and waited.
When Phillip seemed certain that Jesse wasn’t going to come any closer, he allowed his arm muscles to relax slightly. Sarah sagged against him, gasping for air. Tears slid unheeded down her cheeks.
Phillip placed the knife blade back against her throat, eyeing Jesse with a gloating smile. “Say good-bye to your little slut, cowboy. We’re leaving.”
Jesse’s head tilted. “C’mon, Nugent, you’re in enough trouble already, up in Boston. Just let Sarah go and I’ll see to it that all local charges against you are dropped.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he struggled to contain the murderous rage thundering through him. Christ, he couldn’t lose her now. Not when he’d just found her again after eight years of bein’ apart. Eight years of torment and a loneliness so profound it had swallowed up his soul. If anythin’ happened to her…
His jaw locked. His chest was painfully tight. He could barely suck in enough air to keep from passing out. Forcing himself to take deep breaths and let them out slowly, he managed on
ce again to calm his inner core. He looked at Sarah and, as if she could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, she opened her eyes and met his gaze with a calmness she couldn’t explain. “Hey, sugar.” His voice was gentle. “You’re doin’ fine. Just hang in there a few more seconds, okay?”
“O-okay.” She swallowed, running her tongue around her parched lips, feeling hope beginning to blossom.
“What few more seconds?” Phillip shrieked. “What’re you talking about? What’s gonna happen in a few more seconds?” He jerked Sarah closer. “Who is this bozo?” he demanded against her ear. “He the guy you been fucking? The guy you been whoring yourself for?”
“Let her go, Nugent. I’m not gonna tell you again.”
“Shut up, asshole!” Phillip barked belligerently, raising his head and fixing Jesse with a defiant stare. “Who the fuck are you? And how do you know my name?”
“Oh, I know much more than just your name, Nugent. I know everythin’ about you.” Jesse smiled. If you could call it a smile. It was more a feral baring of teeth that should by all rights have been accompanied by a savage growl. “I know you’re a drunken, controllin’ bastard who gets off on abusin’ women. I know you’re a thief and a scam artist, who stole five million bucks from your so-called investors. I know you’re wanted by the Feds for—”
“Well, if you know all that, then you know I have nothing to lose,” Phillip interrupted coldly. “Now get that fucking car of my way. Sarah and I are leaving.” He took a step backward, pulling Sarah with him. She stumbled and sagged, effectively tightening the arm around her neck, as the knife blade left another shallow slice across her skin. Blood flowed freely down her neck. She could smell its sharp, coppery tang.
Brutally suppressing his instinct to spring forward, Jesse inclined his head slightly. “Not gonna happen, Nugent. You’re not goin’ anywhere. At this very moment, you’re surrounded.”
Risking a quick look around, Phillip barked out a laugh. “Surrounded, huh? Yeah, by bushes! You stupid hick,” he snarled. “Just because you just fell off the turnip truck doesn’t mean I did. There’s nobody here but the three of us, and two of us are leaving.” He pulled Sarah back another couple of steps. “Quit resisting, slut. You’re coming with me, dead or alive, your choice.”
Suddenly Jesse straightened, holding himself rigid, his expression unreadable. Sarah watched, unable to tear her eyes away from the man she loved so much, and as suddenly as hope had bloomed, it vanished. Her throat closed, her vision dimmed. This was it. She was going to die here, under the gaze of the man she loved. “I love you, Jesse.” Meant as a shout, it came out barely a whisper. She wasn’t even sure he heard her.
“Sarah, look at me.” Her gaze collided with his and her heart squeezed at the love and reassurance she saw there. “Trust me, sugar.”
To her utter astonishment, he strolled casually around to the front of his Hummer, completely ignoring Nugent’s hysterical orders to “Stop! Stop! Stay where you are! Stop, damn you, not one step closer or she’s dead!”
He leaned casually back against the Hummer’s hood, crossing not only his arms, but his booted feet as well, looking for all the world as if he’d just dropped by for a neighborly chat and a cold glass of lemonade. He moved his black gaze to her captor. “Phillip Nugent,” he said in a cool, even voice with no trace of his customary southern drawl, “you are under arrest for kidnapping and assault. You have the right to remain silent; if you give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court—”
Phillip just stared at him as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Then he started laughing, a crazed, completely hysterical sound that he couldn’t seem to control. “And just who’s gonna arrest me?” he asked shrilly. “You? Some cop you are, you’re not even wearing a gun!”
“—of law.” His eyes narrowed. “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be—”
“C’mon, fucker, shoot me, I dare you. Of course, if you do, my body will be jerked backward, thus jerking my hand upward, thus effectively slicing Sarah’s throat.” His voice was becoming more and more shrill. “I’ll be dead, but, then, so will she,” he taunted slyly. “Is that what you want?”
“—appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as I have given them to you?”
“Answer me, damn you!” Phillip’s entire body was shaking with rage, including the hand holding the knife. It grazed across Sarah’s skin, leaving several more scratches that beaded instantly with blood. “Is that what you want, dickhead? Sarah dead? Because I’ll surely kill her before I let you have her.”
Jesse still didn’t answer. He just stared at the enraged man with those unfathomable black eyes, making Phillip so jittery he nearly cut Sarah’s throat by accident.
“Besides,” he blustered, “even if you did have a gun, you couldn’t shoot me. You’re a cop. Cops can’t just shoot whoever they want.”
“Maybe not,” said a deep baritone voice right behind them as the barrel of a gun entered Sarah’s line of vision to press against the base of Phillip’s skull. “But I sure as hell can.”
Chapter Eleven
Adam! Oh, thank God! Sarah nearly sagged with the profound relief washing over her. But Phillip didn’t release her. In fact, he didn’t move at all, even as the color drained from his face, leaving him whiter than Elmer’s glue. “All I have to do is squeeze the trigger,” Adam went on conversationally, “and you will drop like a stone, your spinal cord severed, dead before the command to raise your arm can even form in your brain.”
“And if he misses,” came an even deeper voice off to their left, “which I highly doubt, since he is a trained sniper and has never missed a target, I will kill you.” The mountain that was Nikolai Rostov stepped forward and dug the barrel of what Sarah could only describe as a small cannon against Phillip’s left temple. If he pulled the trigger, Phillip’s entire head would be vaporized into a fine mist of blood, tissue, and bone. “Let her go, fuckhead, or it will be my privilege to send you straight to Hell, where you belong.”
“Hey,” came an aggrieved voice off to the right. “Why do you get to have all the fun! Didn’t we agree at our last meeting that it was my turn to off the next bad guy?” Jay Gillespie popped up from the passenger side of the Lexus, leveling his gun across the roof in a steady two-handed grip, aiming straight at Phillip’s right ear. He didn’t look twelve years old now.
“This one’s mine, Jay,” Adam said, his tone flat.
Jay sidled around the front of the car, his weapon never wavering. “Damn it, Adam, you never let me kill anyone any more. I miss it.” His expression was deadly serious, but his eyes were twinkling and he gave Sarah a wink.
Good grief! Where have they come from? How long have they been here? How on earth have they managed to sneak across so much gravel without making one single sound?
“Jay…trunk.” Sarah’s voice sounded harsh, shredded, as if she’d swallowed glass. “Gardener…”
Without another word, Jay tucked his weapon into his waistband, and leaned inside the Lexus to hit the trunk release button. Sarah could hear Linc’s agitated voice saying her name over and over in alarm, his speech handicap more pronounced than she’d ever heard it. She could hear Jay trying to calm the elderly man, murmuring words of general encouragement as he helped him up out of the trunk.
“He’s deaf,” Adam said without moving or taking his eyes off his target.
“Ah.” Silence fell, except for the slight rustle of clothing that told Sarah the two men were having an animated conversation. Jeez, do all of Jesse’s men speak ASL?
“Okay, dickwad, listen up,” Adam growled into Phillip’s ear. “It’s. Over. Drop the knife.”
Holding himself rigid, Phillip didn’t move. He couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. His bowels had loosened and he realized that if he did move, if he allowed his muscles to relax even the tiniest fraction of an inch, he would soil himself, like a scared little kid.
“Do
it, asshole.” This from Nik. “Or you’re a dead man.”
A shudder went through Phillip as he somehow managed to force the muscles of his right hand to open. In slow motion, the knife toppled end over end, until the tip embedded itself up to the hilt in the thick gravel, barely an inch from his toe. His arm fell like a lead weight to his side.
“Gun,” Sarah managed to wheeze past the constriction in her throat.
“Where is it, fucktard?” Adam ground the blunt tip of his Sig even harder against Phillip’s neck. But before Phillip could stammer out a reply, Nik found it and tossed it back to Jay.
“Now, release Sarah and put both arms out to your sides,” Jesse ordered, coming up the hill toward them, rapidly closing the distance with his ground-eating stride. His Sig was pointed straight at Phillip Nugent’s right eye. “See?” He smirked at the surprised look on the prisoner’s face. “I do too have a gun.”
The muscles in Phillip’s arm spasmed and Sarah gurgled as the darkness at the edge of her vision started to pull inward. For one brief, horrifying instant she thought she was dead. Then, at a slight move from Nik, Phillip’s entire body slumped, as if his skeleton had dissolved and there was suddenly no structure left to hold him up. As he crumpled bonelessly to the ground, Jesse grabbed Sarah and hauled her up into the safety of his embrace. Throwing her arms and legs around him, she held on for dear life as he reached his right arm around his back to replace his Sig in the waistband of his jeans.
Then both arms curved around her, one hand beneath her rump, the other cradling the back of her head. Fisting her hair, he pulled her head back, his lips frantically seeking hers. In a shattering explosion of joy, their mouths fused together in a kiss that was too hard, too brutal, too savage. Tongues stabbed, dueled, ransacked, lips and teeth ground against each other, heedless of the pain they were inflicting on one another, because the joy was simply too great. She was alive! She was safe! She was back in his arms where she belonged and he was never letting her go.
Loving Sarah (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 32