Not one, but two bullets.
He went down.
She flicked her eyes open. She’d rather stare at the bleak, poorly lit road to doom than think about the hollowness of losing Luke.
The car stopped in front of a long, rectangular building. It was symmetrical with windows evenly spaced a few feet apart and front door perfectly in the center.
As if she didn’t have the ability to walk on her own, she was yanked from the car and hurled through the side door of the building. Ronan held her tightly on one side by her arm and Joaquin gripped her a little too tightly on the other, his nails biting into her skin. They dragged her with feet dangling down a long hallway with scuffed tile floors, white walls, and bright track lighting.
It was quiet. Eerily quiet.
They passed a number of doors before finally reaching a large desk about shoulder height. They entered the room across from the desk, where she was tossed onto a twin-size bed on wheels. The bed didn’t have modern buttons and controls to incline or lift and lower. Just a flat, light blue mattress without a fitted sheet on top.
When she attempted to sit up, she was shoved back down onto the cold plastic. Two other boys entered the room. Ronan held down one of her wrists, Joaquin the other. Two other boys strapped her ankles into leather restraints with metal buckles. She fought against their unyielding hold, pulling and tugging, kicking her legs out. But it was no use. Between the four males, they effortlessly imprisoned her.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why me?”
None of them answered her. Wordlessly, the other two boys exited the room. Joaquin said something curt to Ronan in Spanish, then stepped out of the room.
Ronan grumbled and rolled his eyes, then sank into the chair across from her bed. He leaned back, crossing an ankle over the opposite knee, and watched her.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked again. “What do you want with me?”
Without taking his ominous brown eyes off her, he said, “Soon enough, puta. Soon enough.”
His expression was hungry. Predatory. Making her uneasy. This wasn’t like the fear she’d felt at his apartment when she’d visited Miguel. Or even the fear when Ronan had snatched her from her condo. No. This was terror. Miguel wasn’t here to stand up for her. Luke wasn’t here to save her. It was just Cass and Ronan.
A shrill, ear-piercing scream erupted down the hallway, making Cass tense. Her insides recoiled at what the scream meant. The corner of Ronan’s mouth flexed up. She was surprised he didn’t lick his lips for as savage as his expression was.
“What is this place?” she asked.
It looked like an old hospital given the white walls, ceilings, and floors. The window that would’ve overlooked the street had been covered with wood and nails.
Ronan didn’t answer her question, just continued to stare at her without blinking, which raised her awareness level by a thousand. Her heart pounded. Her palms grew sweaty. Her fingernails scratched the plastic surface beneath her.
“Please,” she said as evenly as she could. “Say something.”
His eyes heated in anticipation. “Someone wants to see you.”
“Who?” Cass asked. “Who wants to see me?”
An evil tilt of his lips made her heart beat even faster. “You’ll see.”
Joaquin came back. He’d taken off his winter jacket and was now in a baggy pristine white T-shirt and jeans. “Vamonos.”
Ronan stood, sliding his cell phone into his pants pocket. Then came around to the head of the bed, kicked something underneath, and proceeded to push the bed forward. He drove her through the doorway and turned left down the hall. The lights overhead created lines in her vision each time she blinked. She twisted her wrists and contorted her hands, trying like hell to squeeze out of the restraints. They passed about five doors before Ronan slowed and then turned into another room.
He swung the bed so her feet entered first, giving her a direct view of the man standing in front of another boarded-up window. At the sound of her bed’s wheels gliding across the tile, the man turned.
He was average height. Tanned complexion. Black hair combed back against his crown. He wore a red button-down shirt with khaki pants and rich brown loafers.
“Leave us,” he said in a thick Spanish accent with bored dark eyes.
“But—” Ronan started.
The man hardened his stare, cutting off whatever Ronan was going to say. Footsteps sounded behind her out the door and down the hall.
The man smiled. “Cassandra Stone,” he said. “So nice to meet you.”
She arched her neck even farther taking in the sight of his gold chain, thick gold bracelet, and gold band around his pinky. “Forgive me,” she said. “You have me at a disadvantage. Who are you?”
His smile was sweet and cordial. As if they were meeting on the street at a café, rather than a rundown hospital while she was bound to a bed. “Me llamo José Serrano.”
She gasped. Serrano. This was the man who held all the answers. The one at the root of everyone’s problems.
Miguel.
Her students.
The gang.
The DEA.
Luke.
José Serrano could end it all.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said just as pleasant, not meaning a word of it. “Now, if you’ll let me out of this bed, there are a few things I’d like to discuss with you.”
His head fell back and a laugh sailed out. “I do not think so, Cassandra.” The way he said her name with so much emphasis on the s, he sounded like a snake. Casssssandra. Similar to the way Luke had poked fun at her the first night they’d met. Only when Luke said it, it was much more welcome. Serrano’s version sent ice-cold shivers down her spine.
The thought of Luke made her heart squeeze. She had no idea if he was alive or dead. If the rest of the men in the room had finished him off. Or if his team had rescued the prisoners.
She cleared her throat and tried again. “What could you possibly want with me? I’m no one.” Though given the fact that he already knew her name said otherwise. His calculated gaze and his cool demeanor told her José Serrano already had something in mind for her.
“You are more than you think.” He tilted his head and surveyed her. “You are going to get me what I want more than anything in this world.”
“Me?” she asked with a small, joyless chuckle. “You must be mistaken. I don’t have anything you want or need.”
“Oh, but you do, Casssssssandra.” His mouth curved into a vicious grin. “You do.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and gestured to it. “You are going to call your boyfriend and tell him where you are, so he can come and get you.”
Luke?
No.
He’d been shot. He couldn’t come.
“But, he—”
Footsteps hustled from behind.
“We’re ready.” Ronan’s voice was rushed. Excited. “Bring her.”
José’s face creased, his eyes narrowing, lips gathering into a disgusted frown. “We are not finished here.”
“I don’t care,” Ronan said.
José’s features dropped, obviously not liking Ronan’s insolent tone, and said something in Spanish. A demand of some kind.
“Fuck your revenge,” Ronan finally said, but his voice didn’t hold the same confidence it had moments ago. “We don’t give a shit about no cop.”
Cop?
They must be arguing over Luke.
Before she could react, the bed jolted backward, then José slapped his hands onto the front, stopping it. He leaned over her, giving Ronan a challenging glare. Ronan must not have cared because he tugged the bed back, then José yanked it forward. The motion, up and back, skidded her body against the smooth surface of the mattress. Her wrists and ankles ached each time she was tugged in the opposite direction.
More arguing in Spanish.
The movement of her bed stopped.
“I need her for the testing,” Ronan con
tinued through clenched teeth. “The DEA raided our fucking nightclub. They’re gonna take everyone.”
“And I told you that I do not care about your testing. I need her to lure Luke Calder here. Once he is dead, you can have her.”
Cass gasped.
Was that what he was going to tell her when he came to her house? He said he was trying to protect her. But if he’d told her why, she would’ve left him. Because he knew he was in danger?
Red-hot pain invaded her chest. She squeezed her eyes closed against it. She’d kicked him out. She’d told him they were over. That she never wanted to see him again. She’d done exactly what he said she would.
She gave up on him.
Oh, what she would do to turn back time. To do it all over again. To show him just how strong they were together.
Ronan pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it at José. His eyes filled with a crazed look. Something that told Cass he was obsessed with the drugs. The gang. An incessant need to be stronger than those around him. “Don’t fuck with me, Serrano.”
She looked at José and her breath stuck in her throat.
José stood and smoothed a hand over his gelled hair. His expression suggested he didn’t give a shit about Ronan’s ultimatum. Like he was perfectly happy for the younger man to put a bullet in him. But only after he killed Luke.
He looked at Cass. “Call your boyfriend and tell him that he has one hour.” His gaze flew to Ronan behind her. “As soon as he shows, she is all yours.”
…
Luke coughed and his chest screamed as if a lung might come up through his mouth. He dug a fist against his sternum, regretting the move as soon as the pain felt like it might cut him in half. He lay facedown, the cool surface of the floor against his left cheek. Using the same fist, he straightened his arm in an attempt to peel himself from the ground and stand up. The tenderness in his midsection made it tough, but he managed to flip over on to his back and unclip his rifle from the strap, letting the weapon clatter to the ground.
Commotion sounded all around him. People talking over one another and shuffling feet rushing by.
“Everyone this way, please,” Reese’s voice said.
Luke craned his neck to look up at his teammate. “What happened? When did you get here?”
With an arm gesturing toward the exit, Reese glanced down at Luke still on the floor. “Came in when I heard you get shot. Thank you for not dying, by the way. We’re trying to get everyone out before Serrano or whomever comes back to finish the job.”
Cassandra.
Luke scrambled to get up, wincing from the soreness building across his midsection. Managing to get into a sitting position, he reached for the straps on his vest, pulling to release the Velcro that was squeezing the life out of him. He took a deep breath, readying himself before lifting his shirt to peer at the matching pair of three-inch deep purple welts on his stomach.
“Take it easy,” Ash said, kneeling to place a hand on Luke’s shoulder.
“I gotta get to her,” Luke said, pushing to stand. “I gotta find her.”
“I know you do.” Ash got to his feet. “But you don’t have a clue where they went.”
Didn’t matter. He’d track them down some way. He had to.
Ash lowered his chin and his tone. “Help us get these people to safety, then we’ll go hunting.”
Luke rebelled against every word his best friend said, even if he knew it was the best course of action right now. His girl was gone. Taken. In danger. He couldn’t fathom what they could be doing to her. Didn’t want to.
He squeezed his eyes closed at the pain in his chest that had absolutely nothing to do with the two bullets he just took.
“Hey,” Ash said, concern blanketing his features. “Does it hurt that bad? Do you want me to call medical?”
“No,” Luke croaked out. He opened his eyes, surprised to find them blurry. He blinked away his emotions.
Ash must have noticed because he said, “Oh” and the tips of his ears went pink. Clearing his throat, Ash gripped Luke’s shoulder, bringing his face inches from Luke’s. “We’re gonna find her. Even if we have to search every goddamn inch of this planet. We’ll get her back. You hear me?”
Luke nodded because that’s all he could do at the moment. He’d never felt more out of place in his life. Not when he’d lost his mom. Not when his foster father left him to sleep outside with the dogs when it snowed. Not when he’d starved damn near to death.
Nothing he’d endured came close to the agony he felt without Cass safe in his arms.
His best friend threw a strong arm around Luke and smacked his back a few times. Luke grunted, but ignored the pain in order to appreciate the support.
Ash drew back. “Let’s get to work so we can find your girl.”
Luke left his bulletproof vest unfastened around his waist as he helped usher people up the stairs and out the front door.
DEA North East Regional Director Joseph Landry organized efforts with law enforcement. Baltimore City ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars waited outside. Luke escorted a brunette approximately twenty-five years old who had bruises on her ankles, wrists, and cheeks to the closest EMT. A blond guy around her same age approached, wrapping an arm around her waist and guided her to the back of his emergency vehicle.
Luke turned to head back into the building, but Ash intercepted him. “You gonna take a seat?” The team leader lifted his chin in the direction of an open ambulance.
“I’m good.” Luke stepped forward, but Ash’s stiff arm stopped him.
“Let me rephrase,” Ash said. “Take a seat.”
Arguing wasn’t going to get him anywhere, so Luke grumbled to himself as he planted a foot on the metal landing to hoist himself inside.
A young Latino EMT was inside, moving items around on the shelf. He pulled his attention from boxes of gauze pads. “How ya doing, man?”
By way of response, Luke lifted the hem of his shirt.
The EMT, Rodriguez based on the name on his navy uniform shirt, sucked in air through his teeth. “Damn, man. Who’d you piss off?”
Grunting a laugh, Luke said, “Not the guy I was aiming for unfortunately.” A stiff breeze decided to whip in at that moment, sending a chill across his bare skin. “I need to go after the bad guys, so can you shoot me up with some painkillers or something?”
“I think I can help you out.” Rodriguez went to the other side of the vehicle, opened a door, and rooted inside the cabinet. He turned, holding a small glass vile and a syringe, and zeroed in on Luke’s bruises. “Hurts like a bitch, don’t it?”
“Worse,” Luke said.
Tipping the vile upside down, Rodriguez inserted the needle and extracted the liquid. He flicked a finger against the body of the syringe and approached the side of the bed.
“This should ease the pain for a bit.”
“Thanks.”
Luke turned his head as the EMT lowered the syringe to Luke’s stomach. Even at his age, he still couldn’t stand needles. The prick was quick and the relief in his stomach was even quicker. He sighed long and deep, relaxing against the bed. His head fell back and he stared up at the bright overhead light.
Rodriguez prompted him to sit up so he could get a bandage wrap under him. The first responder wrapped it tightly around Luke’s midsection. By the third time around, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Glancing at the screen, he saw a number he didn’t recognize.
“Yeah,” he said, lifting his elbows so Rodriguez could continue his wrapping.
“Luke?”
He bolted upright, which ripped Rodriguez’s hands from Luke’s body. The bandage started to unravel and fall loosely around his waist.
The relief he’d felt from those painkillers moments ago was nothing compared to the sound of Cass’s voice. Rodriguez must have sensed the change in cabin pressure, because he drew back and looked at Luke with a concerned expression.
Only one person mattered at that moment and it sure as hell
wasn’t the guy wrapping Luke’s ribs like a mummy.
“Where are you?” he said. “I’m coming to get you right now. Tell me where you are.”
There was a pause.
“Cass,” he said, his emotions making the words come out sharper than he’d meant. “Tell me where the hell you are.”
“We are at the old Union Memorial Hospital, Luke Calder,” a deep male said in a thick Spanish accent. “Will you not join us?”
Luke pushed forward to the end of the bed and stood. He was out of the ambulance in half a second. “Serrano, you son of a bitch. You touch her and you’re dead, you hear me? Dead. I’ll fucking snap your neck with my bare hands.”
“Oh, Lucas,” Serrano purred. “I do not think so. But you are welcome to try. I have heard you are an excellent shot, are you not?”
Lorena. Serrano was taunting Luke about killing his daughter.
“That’s right, Serrano,” he said. “Right between the eyes. It’ll be a good fucking look on you, too.”
“We shall see, Lucas. Bring the rest of your team with you. We can trade. Cassandra for all of you. I will be waiting.”
The call ended and Luke was tempted to throw the phone. Instead, he ate up the distance between the ambo and the building where hostages were still evacuating. His only mission now was to retrieve his weapons, and get to that hospital.
“Talk to me,” Ash said, jogging to keep up with Luke’s lively strides.
“Serrano called. I’m going after him.”
“Hold up,” Ash said, trying to grip Luke’s arm. Luke brushed him off. “Hold on a goddamn second, Calder. You’re not going there alone.”
“I know.”
Ash stopped and faded from Luke’s peripheral vision. Luke slowed his pace, then turned to face his friend. “Serrano wants you three, too. So gear up. We’re heading out in ten.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ronan pushed Cass’s bed swiftly down a long corridor of additional bright track lighting, white walls, and coldness. She took in every piece of her surroundings. Luke was coming, and the direction Ronan took her was farther and farther from the entrance. She needed to remember this path if she was going to get out of here.
In Walked Trouble (Under Covers) Page 24